The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecelia Stanton by Viveka Portman Page B

enjoy himself. I believe this enjoyment was mostly due to the wine he had consumed.
    I feel I must state that my Lord husband is a devilishly handsome man. Fine of form, with thick dark hair and lively blue eyes. I took care to watch him that eve. His shoulders were broad and stretched the cloth of his fine coat as he moved. I noticed other women offering him admiring glances. Though I could see his physical fineness, his shamelessness in attitude was quite repugnant. He has a swagger, you see, a cockiness and sureness of manner that distresses and amuses me in equal measure. William’s gaze upon me was crudely hungry. I could verily see the wicked thoughts cross his mind behind his sparkling eyes. Shameless, that is what he was.
    It was soon time for the bedding. Many a ribald comment was made as we farewelled our guests and retired to my rooms. Bess was awaiting us, solemn-eyed and patient.
    ‘A maid?’ William chortled, and waved Bess away before he turned to me. ‘This night, my dear, I shall be as your maid. I shall serve you, however, in a vastly different manner.’ He laughed once more.
    I watched with trepidation Bess’s retreat. When the door clicked behind her, my stomach knotted.
    ‘Here, Ceecee. You look lost. Shall I order her to stay? I don’t mind an audience!’ His voice was thick with mirth.
    What a singularly inappropriate man.
    William chortled again at my evident surprise. ‘My lady, let me help you out of that damnably prudish gown. Why would you choose such a thing for wedding?’
    I glanced down at the white damask gown. I had thought it rather elegant in a tight, uncomfortable way. The stays were constricting, but the material very fine.
    ‘My stepmother chose it,’ I said quietly, willing my cheeks to not bloom with the embarrassment his words provoked.
    He grunted, his long fingers working at the laces and wrenching them apart. ‘You look incredibly uncomfortable. Dare I say you look as though you’ve had a cock up your arse all evening.’ He paused and surveyed me with those sparkling blue eyes. ‘But I said to myself, “William my man, she can’t possibly have a cock up her arse, you’ve not bedded her yet!’” He chortled again, slapping his thigh in evident merriment.
    I choked and flushed at his words. ‘My stays are too tight,’ I whispered in shame. Mortification made my words thick, and eyes glisten. Is that what he planned to do to me? Bess had never done such a thing – not that she’d divulged to me at any rate.
    He sobered minutely. ‘No matter. Let us rid you of the beastly garment then! But rest assured my dear, if you wish to walk about looking as though you’ve a cock in your arse, you need not wear tight stays. I shall gladly accommodate you in that regard.’ His laughter boomed around the room and he swatted playfully at my derriere.
    The sharp slap brought a paroxysm of surprise rushing through my body and I cried, ‘My lord,’ at the unfamiliar contact and stepped away. ‘I am quite ill-used to this bawdy talk. Forgive me, if I cannot join in your merriment.’
    William rolled his eyes, chuckled some more before he stripped off his shirt. It danced to the floor in the flickering lamplight.
    ‘I offer you no apologies, Ceecee. You shall become used to my manner, I hope, and if I do say your rump looks ripe for a rogering…’ He smirked.
    What did he mean? Though Bess had educated me in many of the ribald vocabulary of the lower classes, I was not entirely certain of his implication, and nor on this occasion did I care to investigate.

Chapter 2
    My husband freed me of my clothing then, stating that the feminine form was too beautiful to be encumbered by cloth at times such as these. I personally disagreed and began to say as such. Alas, as he was wont to do, William laughed at my prudishness. His deft fingers made short work of my garments and soon, I stood naked before him.
    The candles in my room flickered and my body felt taut and uncomfortable