Under a Stern Reign by Raymond Wilde Page B

eyes had gazed at this shameful evidence, her moist lips pouting, silently beckoning him...
    If she were to stay with him alone it would be too tempting, he knew. No, something would have to be arranged. He would have to engineer a suitable marriage for her, to remove her as a temptation. But who would be suitable, during such volatile times?
    Then his befuddled thoughts weaved their way to Genevieve. How precious a beauty she was, too! Growing lustful he recalled her timid nakedness, so unaware of the exquisiteness of her innocence and loveliness. He remembered her as she undressed, and how hard it had been to resist latching his lips to those rosy nipples on perfect breasts as she coyly loosened her camisole. How fine were those buttocks that quivered before him as he rained his crop down upon them. He had sought to meet her eyes after the beating but she looked at him too fleetingly, shame and pain covering her face and making her eyes tearful. And yet during the beating he had distinctly seen how her hips squirmed. Oh yes, she was so coy, but there was a female of passion beneath.
    Strange, though, he considered; he had punished her more than Elise, fully knowing she was almost certainly innocent of any wrong. Could he, perhaps, have stronger feelings for her than he’d ever realised? It must be so...
    And it was as he reflected on the lovely Genevieve that the thought suddenly struck him; a marriage between a de Tranville and a de Montvert would be a very fine match! Why had it never occurred to him before? Yes, it was not a bad idea at all.
    He was getting on in years, he knew, and for so long now, it seemed, he had been in mourning. His home had become a shrine to the dark sorceress that was Elise’s mother. Surely this could not go on forever? Surely, sooner or later, it would be time to pull back the veil of darkness and let the light of summer break into his life again. And the fair girl, why she was as close to the wonder of a bright new day as any girl could be. Yes, the idea was a splendid one!
    As the plan took root in the count’s tipsy head he began to grow cheerful. Things might not be so bad after all, with a new and beautiful wife. They would still have to go to Portugal as exiles it was true, but surely not forever. And one day he would return, his treasure of a young wife by his side, and then, perhaps, they would have heirs.
    He would have to remove Elise from the picture, however. For with her around his cock would never be at peace and could not be trusted to be discreet. Her dark beauty would always shadow him, stirring desires that should be buried. Who could he find as her suitor?
    He tried to call to mind the eligible sons of other French nobles he knew. How many were still alive? How many were still in the country? It was impossible to say. But what about the young gentleman who recently dined with them - that dandy, Rodolfo? All right, he was Portuguese. But he was of noble blood. Could a marriage be set between him and Elise? Why not? He would be meeting the young man in a week and soon he would meet his father. Conde de Agora would certainly understand that the wealth and name of the de Tranville’s could not be erased by this vicious revolution. The old world order would have to come back sooner or later. So Rodolfo would be marrying into good prospects. They would still have to live in Portugal for some time, but not forever.
    The coach drew up at the chateau. The coachman descended to help him again, but the count stepped down unaided. There was even a slight spring in his step. Why hadn’t he come up with the marriage ideas before?
    What a funny day it had been, he reflected as he entered his home. The morning had been so gloomy, but now he felt good. Perhaps he could tell everyone of his marriage plans now? No, perhaps not, for they would see he was still drunk and not take him seriously. Tomorrow then. But he had cause for celebration now.
    The count crossed the hall,