Partners In Rhyme | Tuesday 10 pm

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

#11 House of Dorset (formerly Middlesex)

This red brick townhome with black shutters is the home of the infamous Earl of Middlesex, now Lord Dorset after the death of his father. A black wrought-iron fence surrounds the modest front yard. In the back is a well-tended garden and a small fountain with a statue of Venus in the center.

 

 

When she had received Lord Dorset’s note to meet him at his manor in disguise, Anne-Elisabeth’s first idea was to dress in an outfit made entirely of beads like a native of Barbados. The beaded ensemble, which had been stored in a sturdy chest along with a few of her other possessions, had been recovered intact from the shipwreck, one of the few things that had been salvageable in the rubble. It was quite suggestive and she thought that the handsome Earl would adore it.

 

Eventually, she decided against it, for perhaps there was a reason he wanted her to arrive incognito. He was betrothed now to the daughter of a Duke. Maybe that Duke was having him spied on to make sure no women visited him. She could conceal her native attire under a cloak and arrive by carriage, but that might also look suspicious. People often saw what they wanted to see.

 

However, if she wore her noble male disguise and walked to his house, there would be no doubt that he was being visited by a gentleman. And it would be the perfect opportunity to show it off. The only person who had seen her in it was Lord Chichester. The elegant Earl had told her that she did not make a convincing gentleman, but maybe she would be taken for one at a distance.

 

Bess dressed her in a plum, teal and gold brocade justacorps over a teal waistcoat and plum-colored trousers. Her stockings were deep gold and her shoes were black and shiny. A lace cravat completed her ensemble, fastened with a bejeweled pin. The outfit looked quite nice from a distance, but up close, a discerning eye would be able to tell that it had not been made by a professional tailor. It looked like the work of someone who was more experienced in making women’s clothes. Upon her head sat an immaculate black periwig that itched like hell.

 

Anne-Elisabeth had  then spent a couple of hours taking advice from her male servants on how to walk and behave like a man. In the middle of her instruction, she had been interrupted by a visit from Lord Ranelagh, but had continued to practice after he had gone.

 

Now she strode down the road to Dorset’s residence. The night was rather chilly, and unfortunately she did not own a gentleman’s coat. A woman’s cloak would spoil the disguise. But she walked briskly, and that helped warm her up considerably. The coconut rum she assumed Dorset would serve her would warm her up even more. And if one thing led to another …

 

Smiling at that enticing notion, the Barbadian Countess stepped up to the door and knocked (or used the door knocker if there was one).

 

[Blackguard]

Dorset's manservant answered the door, expecting the lady's arrival and, while expecting a disguise, was taken aback for a moment as he found a gentleman standing at the door.  It took a moment to realize otherwise.

"You are expected ... sir.  Do come in."  The door closed behind her.  Dorset had two drawing rooms, one more formal and small near the front door.  Anne was led past that one, which was dark.  Instead, she was led to a brighter room at the back of the house, full of comfortable sedans with copious pillows.  A fire burned brightly in the fireplace.  An adjacent door was likely an entrance to Dorset's study.

"His lordship shall be with you momentarily.  Is there some refreshment I can provide?"

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

The manservant who answered the door looked confused for a moment when he beheld her. Have I fooled him? It seemed as if she hadn’t since he claimed that she had been expected, but at least he played along by addressing her as ‘sir.’ Perhaps Dorset had told him that she would be in disguise. I should have come up with a name and title so that I could introduce myself, she thought. Unfortunately, it was too late for that now.

 

Her response was what she hoped was a masculine nod and she strode after the servant as he led her to a cheerful drawing room. She immediately gravitated to the fireplace to warm herself. “No, I’m fine,” she replied to his question, deepening her voice to the tone she had used with the printer to publish her novel while wearing a male commoner’s clothes.. Anne-Elisabeth had a naturally low and sultry voice and she had had a bit of practice. Her servants had told her that it was convincing, but maybe they had just been humoring her because she paid their salaries.

[Blackguard]

It was not long before Dorset appeared.  He wore an ornate yellow silk robe that had embroidered foreign letters on the cuffs.  He wore a small black mask over his eyes.

"I thought it only fair that I wear a mask if I asked you to arrive in disguise," he announced gaily, knowing his tiny mask did little to hide his identity.  He collapsed onto a sofa as if he were but an ornamentation to it and offered a broad smile.  "Let's have a look at you as a man," he laughed.  "Do a twirl and try and walk like a man," he encouraged.  "There are many ladies that dress as gentlemen at court.  Some are better than others.  Let us see which category you fall into shall we?"  He waved his hand as encouragement.  "How deep can your voice go?"

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth stretched her hands toward the fire. It had been a lot colder outside than she had expected. Bess was sewing a gentleman’s coat for her, but it wasn’t even close to finished. With my luck, she’ll complete it during the heat of summer.  It would have been better to have one made by a tailor, but she did not know how to locate one. It seemed that the art of making a gentleman’s attire was a closely-guarded secret and never spoken of to ladies.

 

If Dorset likes me dressing as a man, perhaps he can assist me in obtaining proper male clothing.

 

She turned around when she heard a single pair of footsteps enter the room. Dorset looked quite handsome in his yellow robe. Is he wearing anything underneath? His mask was rather redundant, and when he commented on it, she tilted her head to the side, studying his face. “It would never fool anyone who knows you but it does add a mysterious flair.” She didn’t deepen her voice this time, for he was well aware of her identity.

 

Anne-Elisabeth watched as he sprawled upon one of the couches adorning the room. His smile made her entire body tingle pleasantly. So he wanted to assess how well she impersonated a man? She feared he would be disappointed, but perhaps he would give a few pointers. With the intriguing Earl as her teacher, she would be able to fool even the most skeptical of courtiers.  Maybe he would even take her with him to places frequented only by gentlemen just for the fun of it.

 

Deepening her voice as low as possible, she feigned shock. “You want me to twirl? Real men don’t twirl.”

 

Squaring her shoulders and holding her head up high, she swaggered over to him and gave him a sweeping bow. If she had been wearing a hat, she would have used it for dramatic effect. I’ll have to remember to acquire a hat as soon as possible. She wished she could take off her periwig instead. It was so itchy that it felt like ants were crawling around on her head. How long would she be able to ignore it?

 

Rising from her bow, she looked straight into his eyes. “Good evening, Lord Dorset. I am pleased to make your acquaintance."

[Blackguard]

Dorset had a pair of breeches and stockings showing under the robe, should she care to observe it; but, he seemed to be without a shirt under his robe.  Some blond chest hair could be seen as he lounged.

"Quite right.  We do not twirl," he laughed.  "We pivot."
He judged her walk as she approached. "Women, the graceful ones anyway, walk like a feline whereas we men walk like canines," he observed.  "Except those fops that enjoy their mince.  I suppose a ladies could better emulate a fop."

He smiled at her bow.  "It needs work.  More bend at the waist, and the head has to tilt at just the right angle," he counseled.  "Eyes upward as you do, to see if a lady extends her hand."

"What shall we call you sir?  If I should write further correspondence to the ... gentleman ... I see before me, what name might I use?"  He sat up as he thought to her liquid refreshment.  "Real men drink whiskey," he noted as he pointed to a full bottle on a nearby table.  "Men help themselves to liquor."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

I need to start thinking like a man. Of course they pivot instead of twirl. Anne-Elisabeth had twirled in front of Lord Chichester when she had shown him her disguise. Was that why he had told her that she was too womanly to impersonate a man? Then again, he had known who she was. Perhaps after this lesson with Dorset, I’ll be able to fool him if I can obtain another set of clothes.

 

A man walked like a canine while a woman walked like a feline. A very clever observation, she thought, but she already knew that the handsome blond Earl was more astute than most gentlemen at court. Apparently, he was also fond of watching people, a diversion that amused her as well.

 

The young Countess hoped she didn’t look like a fop, although pretending to be one had its own appeal. She loved to make people laugh and fops were definitely humorous, especially if one played up their flamboyant aspects. It was something to consider later. At the moment, she wanted to learn how to act like a sophisticated and confident courtier, much like her impromptu teacher.

 

Dorset gave her some excellent advice about her bow. It was the first one she had ever attempted and the fact that he didn’t fall on the floor laughing told her that she didn’t look too ridiculous. She almost pointed out that there were no female hands to kiss at the moment, but she knew that she should still look upwards. A man wasn’t expected to lower his eyes demurely like a lady. Not that I’ve ever done that myself. ‘Demure’ was not a word one would associate with the Countess of Cambray.

 

He asked for her name. I should have picked one in advance, as well as invented a persona for myself. Anne-Elisabeth had done just that when portraying a commoner in order to get her novel published. Now she would have to think of a name on the fly. And a title. Though she would like to say she was an Earl, she didn’t want to attract too much attention to herself. There were not that many Earls at court and a new one would invite a lot of scrutiny. Barons, however, were a dime a dozen.

 

Grinning at Dorset, she smartly pivoted on her heel and strode back to the fireplace with what she hoped was a loping gait. She had set the box that contained the chalice he had given her on the floor. With her back toward him, she bent down and opened it, giving him a perfect view of her shapely arse and the enticing curve of her hips. Gentlemen, so she had heard, enjoyed watching women in breeches.

 

Chalice in hand, she pivoted again, walked over to the table, and poured herself a glass of whiskey. “I shall pretend we are meeting each other for the first time at a court event,” she told him, keeping her voice deep. It was difficult to bow with a full glass in her hand, but she managed, bending lower at the waist and tilting her head so that she could look upwards. What an awkward position! How do gentlemen do this all the time?

 

“Good evening, Lord Dorset. I am Lord Edmund Hightower, the Baron of Summerhall.. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

[Blackguard]

Anne considered his advice in silence, which was a good sign to Dorset.  In his experience, women preferred to argue or explain.  She did neither.

When she returned with chalice, Anne would know that the matching chalice was at a nearby table.  Dorset grunted his approval as she returned,  If he had been enjoying the view the only evidence was his continuous amused grin.

"A better bow," he complimented.  "As for Lord Edmund, you should consider that when you dress in disguise, unless a farce, the goal is to not attract attention to yourself.  You wish to blend in with the crowd so that you are subject to less scrutiny," he advised.  "Never adopt a title, especially as a man,  Half the ladies at court are on the prowl for a titled lord.  They will scrutinize you instantly, will they not, imagining what it would be like to be married to you and bear your children," he laughed.  "Will they not?"  Certainly he expected Anne to know better than he.  "They will imagine how they might dress you differently to please them.  They will wonder whether your nose or chin will be present on the face of their children."  It was amusing to tell a lady of such things, as opposed to a young man coming to court.  "They will want to know all about the Hightower family and the Summerhall estates.  It will be a veritable inquisition, I assure you.  Contrast that with being simply Edmund Hightower, a man of mystery.  You say and reveal little and move along as soon as you are subject to close examination."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth wanted to learn how to realistically portray a man, and that meant following instructions without complaint, especially when they were given by a paragon of masculinity like Dorset. She was absolutely certain that there was no better instructor of gentlemanly behavior in all of England. Perhaps he was just amusing himself by giving her a few pointers, but what mattered was that she learned from whatever advice he was willing to give her. She was also not a particularly loquacious lady, finding it more prudent to listen than to prattle on and on.

 

Why did Dorset’s complement incite a feeling of pride? Was it because she wanted to impress him with her ability to grasp new concepts and implement them even though they were foreign to her? She had already dazzled him with her wit, but there was more to her than her knack for composing limericks on the fly.

 

Anne-Elisabeth stood in front of him while she listened to him expound upon the benefits of not claiming a title for her male persona. He spoke from experience, of course. What lady in her right mind would not seek the attention of a double Earl? He spoke of ladies fawning over a gentleman because he was titled as if it was a burden. Maybe it was. She certainly wouldn’t want gentleman to swarm around her like flies because they were more interested in her dowry or  connections than they were in her.

 

A gentleman did have at least one advantage in that situation. He could reject his ugly admirers in no uncertain terms and take the pretty ones to his bed. I’m starting to think like a gentleman already!

 

She nodded tn answer to Dorset’s questions, not wishing to interrupt until he had finished speaking. The raven-haired Countess had cloaked herself in a veil of mystery since she had first come to court, and it had served her well. People were curious by nature and found the enigmatic much more exciting than the mundane. It was a skill she could use as a man as well.

 

“A very good point, my lord.” Anne-Elisabeth kept her voice low. “I am more interested in interacting with other gentlemen than flirting with ladies. And I suppose I look a little young for a Baron.” Dropping her act momentarily, she grinned. “Titled gentleman can usually grow facial hair.

 

“What do I do next, as a gentleman who is meeting you for the first time?” She was going to milk this little training session for all it was worth, even though the thought of sitting in his lap was quite enticing.  Glancing toward the chalice that matched his own, she added:  "Does a man pour a drink for another man whom he respects?"

Edited August 10, 2021 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

"Untitled men have facial hair too," he reminded Anne.  "There are false moustaches and sideburns if you wish to delve whole-heartedly into the role."  It did seem a considerable amount of time and expense to really try and fool someone.  "Mostly you will fool the lazy," he declared.  "It is too difficult to fool the keen of eye.  Those sorts are best avoided I should think, if you are serious."  

Anne professed a desire to interact with gentlemen more than ladies.   "What do you seek to learn, one gentleman to another I wonder?"  Many ladies merely sought the ruse to learn what the males thought of the female.

"A gentleman never pours a drink for another unless he is the host ... or he has come to beg a favor," Dorset observed.  "Have you come to beg a favor?"

 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“I was warned against false facial hair.” Lord Chichester had given her that advice. Perhaps he had seen ladies wearing mustaches that looked fake. “But I think I shall need some if I am going to pose as an adult.” Anne-Elisabeth had noticed how young she looked when she checked her appearance in her bedroom mirror. She resembled a boy, not a man. I should have expected that.  I'm only eighteen.  “If it’s professionally done, then maybe it will appear realistic enough to fool most people.”

 

Stepping out of character for a moment, she grinned at Dorset. “You own a theatre. Do you think one of your makeup artists will be able to solve my facial hair dilemma?”

 

Before she answered his next question, she lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to hold her goblet as she imagined a gentleman would. How did a man drink? She doubted he sipped delicately from his glass. She wished that Dorset was drinking too so that she could imitate him. As it was, she took a gulp of whiskey, managing not to wince as it flamed down her throat. The Barbadian Countess much preferred rum, but if real men drank whiskey, she would get used to it. It had an interesting taste once the burning sensation began to fade.

 

Her voice deepened as she again took on the persona of Edmund Hightower. “I am an aspiring astronomer. I want to attend scientific lectures and get opinions on the star charts that I am in the process of making. I would like to expand my knowledge of other forms of science as well as politics.” Anne-Elisabeth grinned. “And I’d love to become a member of the Merry Gang.”

 

Her dark gaze moved from the empty chalice to Dorset’s handsome face. “No, I have not come to beg a favor … not yet anyway.”

 

Striding over to one of the unoccupied couches, she sat down, stretching her legs out the way she had seen gentlemen do at parties. Her legs were slender, but they were more shapelier than any man’s. She hoped that he would correct her seating posture if she had not gotten it right.

 

“I just want to engage in conversation. Have you heard that the King plans to hold a poetry competition soon? It seems he was inspired by a mysterious Countess with raven hair who can compose limericks in the blink of an eye.”

Edited August 25, 2021 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

"A stage expert can make up a man to look a woman or vice versa, though it is a lengthy affair.  You must have the patience of Job, or so I am told," he replied with a languid tone.  "Best to save those efforts for a major ball and not routine affairs."

As Anne draped herself on another couch, Dorset stood so as to recover his own chalice and pour some whiskey for himself.  As he returned, he sat more upright, not wanting to spill any liquor on his own furniture.

"Astrology is an intriguing study.  Frankly, I wonder whether it or religion has substance at all.  The two seem at odds with each other.  I cannot recall a single Biblical verse that discussed the astrological aspect of Jesus, or anyone else for that matter.  The study of the stars seems a very deep affair, one that I have little patience to solve.  I would rather rely on the efforts of others," he confessed.

"The Merry Gang is merciless to women," he commented as to her stated goal.  "Nell has been one of the few to hold her own in our company but I suppose you have demonstrated sufficient mental and emotional fortitude," he complimented indirectly.  "It is not without its costs.  Literally, we fools are prone to spend too much coin on drink and wagers.  They'll not spare you if you want to be a regular member.  And, of course, the ladies at court will assume you are a whore despite your title.  We men get away with it far better.  You should give the matter further thought," Charles advised.

"I should think there will be no poetry contest any time soon.  Between the intrigues of the French, Dutch, and others and the imminent arrival of a royal heir, His Majesty has  been distracted, though we in the Gang are contemplating kidnapping him for a night of entertainment.  Perhaps later this month." 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“I can be patient when the reward is advantageous and worthwhile.” Anne-Elisabeth thought she could endure a bit of boredom if a theatrical professional could transform her into a believable man. How much, she wondered, would the process cost her? “And I don’t so anything by halves. I throw myself into everything I do with unparalleled passion. I think I should like to try it when a promising opportunity comes along.”

 

Her dark eyes followed Dorset as he stood and walked to the table and poured himself a glass of whiskey from the chalice that matched her own.  She took note of every move he made and memorized the details that she had gotten wrong. Surely there was no better gentleman to emulate than he. When he sat up straight, she corrected her own posture as well and took another sip of her drink.

 

The handsome Earl was certainly not the first person to confuse astronomy with astrology, The two disciplines had only recently diverged paths and the science of studying the physical properties of the heavens was relatively new. “I’m interested in mapping the stars in the sky and observing them through my telescope.”

 

Anne-Elisabeth leaned forward, careful not to spill any of the whiskey. She spoke now in her own voice. “My dream is to discover a new star or even a new constellation. I don’t believe in using them for predicting the future. I believe that one’s destiny is determined by one’s own actions and not by the arrangement of heavenly bodies.”   A wicked grin.  "Well, not those in the sky, anyway." 

 

Had Dorset just given her a compliment? Did he truly think she had proven herself worthy to become a member of the Merry Gang? The young Countess preened inside, quite pleased by his words. Though she had not yet met the woman, she had heard quite a few intriguing things about Nell Gwynn. She seemed to share Anne-Elisabeth’s boldness, her irreverent sense of humor, and her disregard for propriety. Yes, she thought she would get along quite well in the Merry Gang, even if she had to drink and gamble profusely. She was certainly not adverse to the idea.

 

“I’ll give it some thought.” Favoring him with a cheeky smile and a nonchalant shrug, she added: “I don’t give a flying fuck about what other ladies think of me. Many of them believe that all widows who don’t remarry after the mourning period is over are whores."

 

It was true that with everything else going on, the poetry competition might be postponed until the following season. The King had a lot on his mind even without the recent murder in the gardens. Anne-Elisabeth was considering whether to mention it it to Dorset but his comment about kidnapping the monarch distracted her. Her eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “He probably needs a break from his worries.” Rising from her chair, she stood in front of him. “If you didn’t already have a drink, I would pour one for you because now I wish to beg a favor of you. Will you let me come along that night, either dressed as a gentleman or as myself? It could be an excellent opportunity to see how well I fit in with the Gang.”

[Blackguard]

Dorset had meant mostly the lengthy time of applying layers of makeup.  It could take hours.  "Let us find you a grand event to try it then.  Perhaps a masquerade ball where you can pretend to be a gentleman and hear some lady prattle on and try and get into your breeches, or play coy when you try to get under her skirts," he laughed.

 "A new star.  How glorious," he observed.  "But are any stars truly new?  Perhaps we should pick a random star of the thousands in the sky and call one the Sackville star and one the Devereux star?"

"Do not say I did not warn you," the earl cautioned again.  Her bravado was something to admire but did she have the finances and patience to endure?

"His Majesty would be quite cross if we were to bring a woman unless it is for his carnal pleasure.  There are some that would revel in swiving a woman in front of an audience and then there are those who like a bot of mystique with the fairer sex.  His Majesty is the later."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Though Anne-Elisabeth wanted to impersonate a gentleman so that she could discuss science and politics, she supposed it would be amusing if a lady tried to seduce her. She understood the appeal of the unknown and many ladies would be curious about a mysterious young gentleman in their midst. “The next ball, then, which will hopefully be this season. We certainly need some entertainment after four days spent in Church.

 

“I will need another set of clothes, though. My maidservant made this ensemble for me and I doubt it will pass a gentleman's inspection.  Would one of your costume designers be willing to make a gentleman’s suit to my measurements?” She knew better than to ask Dorset to recommend a tailor. A tailor would be appalled to make male attire for a woman. They were quite a snobby lot, judging by the little she had heard of them.

 

The young Countess shrugged. “Maybe the stars have been in the sky since the beginning of time, but I don’t think they have all been identified yet. Telescopes are becoming more powerful and eventually we will be able to see them more clearly.” Anne-Elisabeth grinned. “If I can pinpoint one that has not yet been recognized, perhaps I shall name it after you. My telescope is not one of the best, but I am waiting to replace it until they become more advanced.” She didn’t mention that she couldn’t afford one. If she won enough money from the Merry Gang, perhaps that would change.

 

So it was to be that kind of entertainment. Anne-Elisabeth certainly didn’t want to attend a swiving party, and she had no desire to be the King’s mistress, or even a one-night stand. “Never mind then,” she said. “I do want to impress the King, but not in that way. I wish to become part of his entourage, those witty individuals whose company he prefers. Master May has been helping me by bringing me to his attention, and I think I am well on my way, but …” she sighed. “I am not quite there yet.  Any advice you can give me will be greatly appreciated."

 

Her head was itching dreadfully and she feared it would soon be too painful to ignore.

Edited September 29, 2021 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

"I suppose I could arrange our wardrobe manager to see if you could be fitted," Dorset acknowledged.  "The fit might not be snug."

"The question is how might you know if a star is charted or not?  There must be a million stars in the sky.  Not all have been named or charted, as it would surpass a lifetime to do so.  Thus, I think we just enforce naming rights on a star of our choice and let some astronomer object if he believes it to be worthwhile."  It seemed to Charles that any attempt to chart and name the stars must be a tedious affair.

She asked for his advice about impressing the King.  "It is a skill to be learned," he acknowledged.  "The crown weighs heavily upon the brow of any ruler, especially those whose heart yearns for merrier distraction.  It is never more so than when weighty matters about plots, politics, and pettiness are presented.  Humor and wit ease the stress and provide the escape.  What busy person does not imagine an escape?  If you can provide that escape and have something intelligent to say when you get that opportunity, you will advance in your goal."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth didn’t want a secondhand stage costume that only looked good from a distance. She wanted a few sets of authentic gentleman's clothes. She didn’t believe that Dorset would have her dress in a costume either, Perhaps he knew of where to find ready-made outfits that could be altered to fit her.

 

“Gentleman’s clothing is never as snug as a lady’s,” she agreed. “Gentlemen don’t have to wear corsets.” She had foregone hers tonight, of course, and she could breathe so much more deeply. It often seemed to her that corsets was the reason some ladies’ voices sounded so breathless. As the young Countess had a naturally narrow waist, she had never laced hers too tightly. Yet it was constraining all the same.

 

“I think people have been charting the stars for thousands of years.” The ancient Greeks had discovered and named the constellations that could be seen with the naked eye, after all. “It is true that not all of them are named yet, so I suppose we could just pick a couple of them out and call them after ourselves. If we speak of them frequently, everyone else will use those names too.”  It did seem like a fun and daring thing to do.

 

Anne-Elisabeth barely kept herself from wincing. It felt like ants were crawling around on her scalp. Ants had never been remotely close to her scalp, but she imagined that they would feel like the itchiness that she was now experiencing. “We can look through my telescope and choose two of the brightest and I can write their names on the star chart that I’m making. How does that sound, my lord?”

 

She concentrated on Dorset’s advice to take her mind away from the annoyance of her periwig. “So far I think I have done quite well, but I doubt he thinks about me when I’m not around. I believed your kidnapping scheme might be an opportunity to amuse him again, but it seems to be a gentleman’s only occasion. I suppose I should join his morning walks more often so that I become ingrained upon his memory. Getting up so early … Oh!”

 

The young Countess could stand it no longer. She pulled off the periwig and tossed it toward the door with all the strength she possessed. “How do gentlemen stand these things? They make one’s scalp itch dreadfully!”

 

Anne-Elisabeth’s thick raven hair was braided, coiled at the back and top of her head, and fastened in place. “I wish I could let my hair down but I can’t see the pins and they might prick me if I try.”

[Blackguard]

"That is the spirit," Dorset encouraged.  "Be daring on each occasion."  She had accepted his idea at last to name their own stars.  "Pick a bright star for me," he asked in jest.

"Not too many morning walks," he warned, "or you will become a nuisance.  Something is more special when it is rare, is it not?"

"Come over here and sit beside me. I will take out the pins and let your hair down," he instructed.  "It is only natural that you wish to be free of your constraints.  I can aid you in that regard."  It was clear that the pins were not the only constraints being referenced.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“If you visit me on a clear night, you can look through my telescope and pick out your own.” Anne-Elisabeth grinned. “Or, if you trust me, I can select one for you.” Which would, of course, be close to her own.

 

As impatient as all young people, she had planned to participate in every walk the King took. Dorset’s wise words make her rethink that idea. It was true that the rarer something was, the more one valued it. She remembered her promise to herself when she had first come to court … to be mysterious and intriguing. That should be her plan concerning the King as well. “Very true, my lord,” she agreed.

 

Dorset didn’t have to ask her twice. Anne-Elisabeth had been standing in front of him and she immediately sat down beside him, turning her back to him so that he could remove the pins from her hair. The double-entrende in his words sent a white-hot thrill dancing down her spine. “If you do, I shall be eternally grateful."  It was not a witty comment ... it was hard to be witty with imaginary ants crawling on your scalp ... but it was sincere and punctuated by a smile thrown over her shoulder that managed to be appreciative and saucy at the same time.

 

Edited October 10, 2021 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

He saved his responses until Anne moved next to him.  The pins in her hair vanished and the dark locks cascaded from her head.  "The mites are on your jacket."  He moved to remove her jacket, knowing that she had been eager for it.

"Or," he countered, "we could go outside and select a star with our naked eyes.  Any star worthy of being called the Sackville star must be seen plainly in the sky."   He stood  and was looking at her with a feral smile.  "Speaking of naked and an eye for it.  I think it is high time you learned to undress as a man.  For educational purposes of course.  "I would demonstrate but I only have on my robe."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Little sounds of pleasure whispered from Anne-Elisabeth’s lips as Dorset removed each pin. When he was finished, she undid her braid so that her raven curls tumbled down her back and over her shoulders, all the way down to her waist. The young Countess was not a classical beauty, but she had been told many times that she had an absolutely stunning head of hair ... thick, silky, and luxurious. She shook it out and it flowed around her, gleaming with red and gold highlights in the glow of the candles.

 

“Then you must remove it at once!” she exclaimed as if appalled. Of course there were no mites on her jacket. She kept her clothing and her body fastidiously clean. In fact, she had taken a bath strewn with rose petals right before she had donned her male clothing. But she would play along. It was getting rather hot in the parlor anyway. Anne-Elisabeth shrugged out of it with his assistance and turned to face him. “Thank you, my lord,” she breathed. “I feel so much better now.”

 

Dorset suggested they go outside and select their stars. Most of the largest ones had already been named in ancient times, but there were still thousands of them that weren’t called anything in particular. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a couple of bright ones to name after themselves. Anne-Elisabeh was about to advise consulting her star charts first, when he stood up and proposed another, much more intriguing, course of action. Flames licked through her nubile young body when she beheld his wicked smile.

 

“I suppose I do need to learn how to undress like a man,” she mused, a slow sultry smile curving the corners of her lips. She rose and once again stood before him. “You can tell me how. I am a very quick study. And you are wearing breeches. You can demonstrate how to remove those when we get to that point.” Her smile transformed into a cheeky grin. “For educational purposes only, of course,” she repeated.

[Blackguard]

Dorset knew Anne had come to discuss astronomy and to try her hand at dressing as a man, but the purpose of the visit was clear ... she wanted a good shagging and he had been willing to encourage it after his boring dalliances with his betrothed, Frances Cavendish.  He had concluded already that their marriage would be an unhappy one.  It would not be the first.  She was one of the prime choices as wives went, but Dorset was not always motivated by standing.  He preferred the merry life.  That did not rule out marriage, but it made one think carefully about the sort of wife that could bear such a relationship.

"Yes, I suppose I could," he smiled as she turned the table on him.  "Dropping one's breeches in front of another man is really nothing but a series of utilitarian motions designed for speed rather than the erotic.  Of course, we can be know to wave our jewels at one another if we are good friends,"  he laughed, "bragging about the size of our manhood..  "You will have difficulty with that move tonight."

He discarded his robe and Anne could see his bare chest with blond curls.  "I've removed my shirt.  One starts there.  Then you go to the breeches.  So, why don't you remove your shirt?"  Now it was his turn for a cheeky grin.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth chuckled at Dorset’s explanation of how a man dropped his breeches and waved his cock in front of his friends. “No, I suppose that is something I will never be able to do … unless I stuff them with an actual sausage.” Bess had sewn and stuffed a ‘bulge’ in the front of her breeches, but she doubted it looked very realistic. Then again, it was designed to be covered by her waistcoat and justacorps. She wouldn’t be surprised if the charming Earl laughed when he saw it. Maybe he would have a better idea to solve that particular problem.

 

He took off his robe and Anne-Elisabeth tried not to stare at his chest and deny the desire to run her fingers through those blond curls. When they had shagged in the Lord Chamberlain’s office, they had not removed their clothes as there was a risk that they would be discovered. She had not thought much about what he might look like nude, but his fine physique pleased her and sent white hot thrills cascading through her body.

 

She hoped that Dorset would be as delighted with her own, though she was not fashionably plump but slender and lithe. Perhaps he would not notice the scar running down her right leg.

 

“Very well, but I must remove my waistcoat first.” The dark-haired Countess made quite a show of it, slowly unfastening the buttons and letting it slip sensuously from her shoulders and down both arms, where it fell to a pile of teal silk on the floor. Turning slightly and bending over so that Dorset could get a quick glimpse of her shapely backside, she rose, folded it neatly, and placed it on the sofa.

 

Now she was dressed only in her cream-colored shirt and plum breeches as well as her shoes and stockings. The shirt was opaque but the outlines of her already taut nipples could be clearly seen. With a saucy wink, Anne-Elisabeth leisurely lifted it up, revealing her flat stomach and tiny waist before pulling it over her head with a melodramatic flourish. At the same time, she shook her long mane so that a plethora of raven curls fell over her shoulders and covered her breasts. This was intentional, designed specifically to tease him.

 

“Did I do it right?” she asked, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. The soft silk shirt dangled from one hand. “Or should I put it back on and try again?”

 

[Blackguard]

There was a look of pleasure on his face as he watched her undress her top in two steps.  He had likewise not seen her naked.  She seemed a bit scrawny and tanned, something rarely encountered in a lady, but it made the unwrapping all the more interesting.

"Men usually have hair on their chest," he remarked as he saw Anne's hair draped over her upper torso.  "But, you have taken it to new heights, or depths, as you consider it," he laughed.

Fallowing a minute of silence, he revealed "I was pondering whether or not to have you repeat the process multiple times."  He would enjoy the show.  "Yet, you passed the first test, so it would be punishment to have you not get the credit you deserve."

He took to his feet and began to unfasten his breeches.  "On the one hand, men rarely are bashful about undressing in front of other men, with the general understanding that the other men will not gaze at the undressed man's privates.  It is a code of sorts that I doubt ladies encounter the same, as they are creatures that like to judge and compare everything from dress, hairstyles, jewelry and the like, so why not the same critical eye for another  woman's nudity?"

"So to save you from that temptation that other men should avoid, lest the be accused of being afflicted with the Italian disease, I shall turn my back for now." The breeches fell to the floor, revealing a toned buttocks.  He too planned to reveal his privates in stages.  Women enjoyed assessing their lover's posteriors and it helped their anticipation of what was to come.  He craned his neck to regard Anne.  "Your turn." 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

The pleasure on Dorset’s handsome face eased her fears that he might be displeased with her unfashionable form  and encouraged her to tantalize him to the fullest as she undressed. Anne-Elisabeth laughed at his comment about chest hair. “That’s why I tossed my hair forward, so that I would look more like a real man.” In truth, that idea had not crossed her mind. “Unfortunately it’s not quite where it should be and there’s a bit too much of it, I think.” Despite that remark, she did not shake it back over her shoulders.

 

The Barbadian Countess wouldn’t have minded if he had commanded her to redress and then undress again, but she was quite pleased with herself that she had gotten in right the first time. She sensed that the enticing double Earl was not the kind of gentleman who flattered others effusively and she was elated by his compliment. “I told you I was a quick study,” she preened.

 

Anticipation made her heart race as Dorset began to unfasten his breeches. His view of ladies was spot on. They judged others of their gender quite harshly, whether they saw them naked or not. Though she wasn’t certain where they looked when a gentleman undressed in front of them, Anne-Elisabeth imagined the eyes of bold ladies went straight to his groin, interested in the size of his tool. Size didn’t matter as much to her as what a gentleman did with what God had given him, but she couldn’t deny that massive cocks excited her.

 

Anne-Elisabeth pouted right before he turned his back. Despite his speech, she suspected that he just wanted to tease her in return. Or perhaps he wanted to show off his fine arse, for fine it most certainly was. Heat spiraled through her nubile young body, intensifying at the apex of her thighs.

 

And now it was her turn. “As you wish,” she replied with a sweeping bow that gave him a brief peek at her bosom before her hair settled over it again. After folding the shirt and placing it atop her waistcoat, she kicked off her shoes and then rolled down one of her deep gold stockings in a seductive fashion, sliding it off of her foot. The other followed just as slowly. She hoped that Dorset thought she was going to drop her breeches in front of him too, but she turned around and smiled sweetly over her shoulder. “I will spare you the temptation as well, for if you only suspected that I was a woman, then you would be eager to discover whether you were right.”

 

She divested herself of her breeches in much the same way he had. When they dropped to the floor, she bent over, giving him a splendid view of her own derriere, and picked them up, folding them and placing them on her clothing pile. Straightening up, she threw him another glance over her shoulder. “What is the next step in my education?”

[Blackguard]

Though still turned away from her Dorset craned his neck to observe the progress of her disrobing,  She copied him in turning her back but not before removing stockings.

"A splendid ... job," he offered when her turn was complete,   "Now then, gentlemen once disrobed will act casual about it,  We will sit next to each other and then talk about manly things like politics, money and women.."  With that he turned non-chalantly and watched where her eyes went as he walked calmy to join her seated on a love seat.  Moving next to her, he sat down and patted the seat next to him.  "So what topic should e discuss?"

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth sensed Dorset’s eyes on her as she removed the remainder of her clothing and hoped that he liked what he saw. When she was done, he complimented her again. “Thank you, my lord,” she replied, still gazing over her shoulder at him. How strange they must look … completely nude and with their backs turned toward each other. Who would be the first to turn around? Was this to be yet another competition between them?

 

No, for after he advised her on what gentlemen talked about while nude, he faced her and walked toward her. It was tempting to lower her eyes and discover how well he was endowed, but she was unwilling to give him the opportunity to remind her that gentleman never looked at each other’s cocks. And so, with great difficulty, she kept her eyes glued to his face as she too, turned around.

 

Would Dorset look at her pudendum? Her luscious raven mane was not long enough or in the right place to cover the source of a gentleman's greatest pleasure. One would think that area would be covered with a mass of raven curls too, and once it had been. In Barbados, sweating was always a problem, and she had started trimming her mound. There was a thin line of closely clipped hair running down the middle of it.

 

Anne-Elisabeth sat down beside him. Her hair, still flowing over her shoulders, pooled between her thighs, covering her private parts. “Science would be my topic of choice, but I’m also  interested in politics.” Her voice lowered again as she took on her male persona. “With war on the horizon, I think the French will try to persuade His Majesty to change sides while the Dutch will attempt to keep him on his current course. I’m sure there are spies from both countries at court, keeping tabs on the situation. Yet to what lengths will they go to stop each other from reporting to their rulers?” 

 

She was surprised that she could speak  coherently with him so close to her.  He intoxicated all her senses in a most delightful way.

 

[Blackguard]

He was equally nonchalant about her nakedness, never hazarding a glance.  It was what gentlemen did.

"More whiskey?"  He reached for the bottle, helping himself to more amber liquid first.

'The French will try and fail," he replied as if speaking to another gentleman.  He crossed his legs languidly.  "More likely, they will pay to delay our entry into war while the Dutch will pay to accelerate our entry.  Sitting on the fence can be profitable.  As for you, what assurances can you give me that you are not in the employ of either to try and coax something from me?"  The comment was offered in a light-hearted way.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“Yes, please,” Anne-Elisabeth replied, holding out her glass. Momentarily breaking character, her voice returned to its normal sultry tone. “Is that the way gentleman respond to an offer of a refill? Do they say ‘please’ or is that the feminine way to answer?”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dorset crossing his legs and barely stopped herself from looking down. So is this the game we’re playing now? See who looks down first? The dark-eyed Countess was determined to win this contest just as she has won the limerick competition.

 

“A very ingenious strategy.” Anne-Elisabeth was truly impressed. Then again, His Majesty was quite clever. Perhaps she could make a covert reference to that brilliant ploy in a limerick. “It’s also an excellent way to increase the royal coffers.”

 

His playful accusation made her smile (hopefully in a masculine way). “I need give you no assurances but my word, my lord.” She nonchalantly flicked her hair back over her shoulders. Now all her charms were on full display. “A true gentleman never breaks his word.”

 

Now let’s see who can’t resist a peek.

[Blackguard]

As she pushed back her hair, his eyes started to move downward, as if by instinct, but were paused and righted again.  Yes, there seemed to be a competition, and why not?

"A true gentleman never breaks his word," he repeated with amusement,  "Can you name one true gentleman at court?  It would be hard to find one, other than myself of course.  Has His Majesty ever broken his word, or York, or the various members of the Privy Council?  I wonder."  He said it in such a way as to suggest he had an opinion.

"So, I shall have to give you a test.  Do you believe in divine right of monarchs, or do you believe that a republic with a constitutional monarch is better form of government?  Do you believe that the end justifies the means? Do you believe that the English court is corrupt?  Your answers could be telling," he insisted.