Three. Noelle MackЧитать онлайн книгу.
and not a minute longer.
Harriet did not seem to notice that her cousin wasn’t saying a word. “So you sleep in pearls, do you? You are a lazy cat, Fiona.” She squinted at the triple strand, which Fiona had forgotten that she still wore. “Or perhaps a sentimental one. Were they a gift?”
“Yes.” Not that Fiona would confess who the giver was. She reached up and turned them around so the clasp was in the back again.
Harriet cleared her throat. “Hmm,” she said slyly. “I think I recognize the clasp. From Coburn’s Jewellery, is it not? All the married gentlemen shop there. But not with their wives. And not for their wives. Not that I am one to talk,” she giggled. “Dear Ned never asks what I am up to while he is gone.”
“And you don’t know what he’s up to, either. He probably has a wench of every color in every port.”
“No doubt,” Harriet said affably. “In any case, those pearls are very pretty, Fiona. Now, do tell me who gave them to you.”
Fiona drew the flat lapels of her robe high up around her neck. “No. There is no reason for you to know.”
Harriet looked hurt. “But we share every confidence, my dear cousin. I tell you everything. I know that I may speak to you with perfect frankness, on every subject under the sun and that you will never judge me or tittle–tattle.”
Fiona knew that the best thing to do was distract Harriet, which was never difficult. “I am glad that you think so. Now, what do you have in that bag?”
Harriet looked down at the bulging reticule she had set on the floor and gave it a little kick with a silk–shod foot. Whatever was inside chimed softly once more.
“They are Celestial Spheres—have you not heard of them?”
Fiona shook her head. Harriet reached down and picked up the bag, drawing apart the strings that closed it and taking out two smooth balls of ivory, as big as eggs but perfectly round. She rolled them back and forth in her palm, making their cleverly hidden mechanism chime as they struck each other. Fiona looked more closely. She could see no seam in the ivory where the halves of each sphere had been fitted together.
“Ned said that the Chinese give these toys to their women, as it is impossible to keep all of their wives and concubines sexually satisfied.”
“Ah.”
Harriet nodded and let the balls roll in her cupped palm again. “He showed me exactly how to use them.”
“Hmm. Then he does have other women.”
“What of it?” Harriet said nonchalantly. “But he is very good to me, Fiona, when he is in London.”
Fiona laughed. “So long as you are both happy. Now explain the Celestial Spheres, if you please.”
“The woman lies on her back, with her hips raised on a soft silk pillow. She puts the balls deep inside her pink blossom—Ned says the Chinese have many names for that—and rocks her hips so that they move and make her love petals wet with dew.”
“I see.”
“He gave me a little book with pictures of a concubine demonstrating their use.”
“Thoughtful of him,” Fiona said.
“You can see the ivory balls within her since she seems to have no hair there—well, I have the book, Fiona.” She patted the reticule and smiled. “The pictures on the fifth page are delightfully lewd. Two younger concubines hold the lady’s thighs apart and put the balls in, then make her clasp her pink blossom with open fingers. They help her bounce her pretty bum up and down on the pillow while a third one licks between the lady’s fingers, dainty as you please, and she has her climax with all of them watching. The Celestial Spheres are supposed to give great pleasure.”
“And do they?” Fiona inquired. She looked at the balls in her friend’s hand, wondering how they would feel inside her.
Harriet shrugged. “I have not tried my set as yet, even though Ned has been home for an entire week. He brought me several sets, in different sizes, for my toy chest, as he calls it. I shall try them, you may be sure. He likes to see me enjoy his presents, especially if I put one toy in my cunny and another in my arse.”
“Both at once?”
“Sometimes.” Harriet didn’t even blush. “He always wants to spread my arse cheeks first—he loves it that I am so big and soft behind, Fiona.” She wriggled that part of herself against the seat cushion of the armchair and continued. “He begs very nicely for the honor of putting in a small dildo, if that is my pleasure. I have him put a dab of French cream there to ease the way.”
“Of course.”
Harriet sighed happily. “Just talking about arseholes makes him so hard.”
“That’s a sailor for you,” Fiona murmured.
“Well, yes. If he is very good, I bend over and let him touch the tight puckers with a fingertip and rub in the cream but no more. It excites him exceedingly. He knows I know it.”
“Go on,” Fiona said, quite amused. There was no stopping Harriet once she began to talk about sex. “What next?”
“I part my cunny lips and slide a huge rod inside, all the way up. Ned is mad for such play, especially when I finally ask him to gently stimulate my arsehole with the little rod I prefer there—watching his dear wife experience penetration fore and aft is his greatest desire, he says. Sometimes the sight makes him come without my even touching him.”
Fiona shook her head, reaching out to take the spheres from Harriet’s hand. “And do you moan long and low? Such a show requires appropriate music.”
“Indeed I do,” Harriet laughed. “Ned says he could find me in the darkest whorehouse just by the noise I make.”
Fiona could think of no reply to that. Harriet most certainly did speak frankly about every subject under the sun. “Well, well. Thank you for the spheres, Harriet. Are they the largest of the sets you have?”
“Yes. I put these aside especially for you, my dear friend. Of course I prefer the real thing, Fiona.”
“As do I. Still, these are interesting. And the sound they make is very pleasant.”
Now that Fiona was playing with the spheres, Harriet had her hands free to look inside the reticule on her lap once more. “The book—ah, here it is. I will leave it with you.” She handed it to Fiona with a wink. “Do you understand Chinese?”
“You know perfectly well that I don’t.”
“Then enjoy the pictures, as I did.”
Fiona riffled through the small volume. “The secrets of the East are revealed at last. It seems that they enjoy the act of love as we do.” She stopped at one page and turned the book sideways, then upside down, to study it. “Good heavens. However did they manage to get into that position? One would have to be an acrobat, which I am not. But thank you, Harriet. I will peruse it later.”
Harriet clucked to her spaniel and they both watched Beastie wiggle out from under the ottoman, then jump into her ample lap. “Perhaps your new friend will enjoy the pictures as well. What did you say his name was, Fiona?”
“I didn’t say.”
3
As the day continued fine, Lady Fiona decided to ride out in Hyde Park after Harriet’s departure. From the open carriage that she drove herself, she looked down upon the crowd jostling each other in the leafy paths and edging by their superiors, whose numbers were far fewer.
The breeze puffed out the dresses of the promenading ladies, whose sedate pace did not alter no matter how high their hems were lifted. It was as good a way as any to permit the gentlemen a glimpse of pretty shoes and stockings that would otherwise be hidden, Fiona thought.