Free Submitting to His Lordship by Em Brown Page B

comfortable?”
    “I did, thank you,” Miss Herwood replied. “Bhadra has been quite helpful and attentive.”
    Marguerite looked at Halsten. “Bhadra has been a wonderful addition to the staff. How long do you intend to stay?”
    “Three nights,” Halsten replied.
    “In the West Wing? Or do you plan to venture into the East?”
    He could feel Miss Herwood’s inquisitive gaze. “The West Wing.”
    Marguerite turned back to Miss Herwood. “My chateau is at your disposal. If there is anything you require, do not hesitate to ask it of me. If I may be presumptuous, and I often am, you are in good hands, Miss Herwood.”
    He noticed the color intensify in Miss Herwood’s cheeks and briefly wondered if he would be able to keep his hands off of her during their excursion.
    “As it is plain you intend to go out for a ride, I will keep you no further.”
    She waved them away and went back to her magazine.
    As he escorted Miss Herwood to the stables, he knew it would not take long for her to ask, “What is the East Wing?”
    He eyed her carefully. “The activities in the East Wing are more...intense.”
    She regarded him with equal care. “How intense?”
    If he were too explicit, he might frighten her. “The guests in the East Wing have been to Chateau Follet many times.”
    She waited for more information but he did not provide it.
    “We will confine ourselves to the West Wing,” he assured her.
    She looked at him squarely. “Have you been to the East Wing, Lord Rockwell?”
    He paused. “I have.”
    “Do you prefer it?”
    “At times,” he replied candidly, “depending upon the company.”
    To his relief, she changed the subject. “Madame Follet seems a lovely hostess.”
    “Did you expect otherwise?”
    “In truth I had no specific expectations, but in what manner was her husband acquainted with the Marquis de Sade?”
    Perhaps he should never have made mention of de Sade. What righteous young woman would not be alarmed by that name?
    “They were imprisoned in the Château de Vincennes at the same time, both under a lettre de cachet . Their fellow prisoner included the Comte de Mirabeau.”
    “Was Monsieur Follet a writer of erotic works as well?”
    “In truth, he wrote political essays, but his letter de cachet was the result of an affair with the wife of an influential Marquis, who claimed Follet had attempted to abduct his wife. Follet said the kidnapping was consensual, a form of titillation, and that he was liberating her from an abusive husband. She took her own life shortly after Follet was imprisoned.”
    “How very sad. Did you know Monsieur Follet well?”
    “He passed some years ago. I am better acquainted with Madame Follet.”
    He could discern her thoughts: she wondered if he and Madame Follet had been intimate. He would not have abhorred any feelings of jealousy from her, but while he could often read her mind, he was far from certain as to how Miss Herwood truly felt about him.
    “She is very comely,” Miss Herwood said. “I wonder that she has not married again?”
    “I know not her interest in matrimony, but she has not had a shortage of lovers.”
    She turned her clear eyes upon him, her gaze asking, “Are you one of them?”
    They had arrived at the stables. Two horses had been saddled, one of them carrying the picnic. He assisted Miss Herwood onto the chestnut while he took the grey. The afternoon proved temperate and their ride a pleasant one as they took the horses over rolling hills and across green fields. They found a flat area above one of the hills and set up their picnic.
    “What a lovely landscape,” she murmured as she looked out at Chateau Follet in the distance. The fresh air and minor breeze agreed with Miss Herwood.
    After setting out the bread, cheeses, and sweetmeats, he poured two glasses of wine.
    “I am allowed?” she asked wryly.
    “I have no intentions to ravish you.”
    “Why not?”
    Her forwardness had him taken aback. He handed her a glass of