Free The Switch by Lynsay Sands Page B

dumbly, she sighed and leaned to the side.
"Here now." Her smile was sprightly as she straightened again, whip in hand,
fondling the grip suggestively. "Is it just the threat o' pain ye like, or will ye be wantin' the real thing?"
    "Tell me more about this Aggie. She will be gentle with the boy, will she not?"
    The strumpet's hair almost hid the way she rolled her eyes at his question. She was likely frustrated, too. Radcliffe had been fretting over the boy ever since they had entered the room. It was most annoying. He was entirely too preoccupied with that damn boy. She had been cooing and petting him for several moments now and he was not even hard. He couldn't concentrate.
    "Aggie will be most gentle, my lord," the woman murmured huskily, raising her eyes to cast him an alluring look as she continued working on the buttons of his shirt. "She has been in the business a long time. She'll break him in proper and with care."
    "Aye, of course she will." Radcliffe forced a smile and tried to concentrate on the woman's attentions as she finished with the buttons of his shirt and slid her hands across his chest. Still, it was most difficult. He could not get the boy out of his head. It was rather like an annoying hangnail, irritating and nagging.
    Grimacing at his own foolishness, he raised his hands to her shoulders and drew the woman up for a kiss, trying to work up some enthusiasm.
    A loud scream brought an end to his efforts, making his head whip toward the wall. There was no mistaking the panic and pain in that
shriek as belonging to Charles. Cursing, Radcliffe pushed the woman away from him and hurried for the door.
    He was crashing through the door of the room Charles was in before that first shriek ended, but came to an abrupt halt in the doorway at the sight before him. Charles was staked out and tied down to the bed as if on the rack, his whole body stiff with tenor, his head raised off the bed, his wig somewhat askew, his mouth wide open in a second shriek. That was only half of the picture, however. The second half, the one that made Radcliffe goggle somewhat, was that the aging Aggie was seated astride the lad's thin chest, with what looked
very much like a whip in her hand.
    "What the devil is going on here?"
    Mouth snapping shut, Charles swiveled his head toward the door, relief swelling across his face when he spied the man standing there. "Radcliffe." That breath of sound was soaked with relief. Pausing, he swallowed to regain his breath somewhat, then roared, "Get this hag off of me!"
    Radcliffe was across the room in a trice. "Madam, I suggest you remove yourself, else I shall be forced to do it for you."
    Aggie scowled from the lad she sat on to the man looming above them menacingly. "Is this more game-playing?" she asked uncertainly.
    Unable to restrain himself further, Radcliffe lifted her bodily from the lad, then set her away from the bed. She began to protest at once.
    "Here now, what're ye doin'? The lad asked fer it! He was wantin' me to do such 'n the like to 'im."
    Radcliffe paused to arch one eyebrow at Charles.
    "The silly old strumpet misunderstood everything," the boy informed him with apparent disgust. "Hurry up and untie me. I want out of this den of iniquity."
    "Oh, no!" the old bawd fluttered behind Radcliffe helplessly. "Now don't be untyin' him, he's a slippery little eel an' it took me forever to be trussin' him up in the first place."
    Ignoring her whining complaint, Radcliffe untied Charles, then turned to face the now irate Aggie. She was protesting still, but had added threats to her words, wanting to be paid for this fiasco. The boy had kept her jogging about like a horse at the races, she said, and she was deserving payment for it.
    Charles scooted off the bed, sidling around to the bottom of it as Radcliffe faced the old cow and the younger woman who now joined in the complaining.
    Silencing the harping women at last, Radcliffe shook his head. "I shall pay you both as soon as I