Splish Splash | Saturday September 17th, evening

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

WINDSOR BATHS

 

'Bathhouse' was, in truth, too austere a word to describe the cornucopia of decadent entertainment to be found at the Windsor Baths. While they certainly served their hygienic purpose well, no elite leisure is ever simple, and such held as true with a bath house as it did with a palace salon. The exterior showed no particular promise, being an older complex reminiscent of the years before the extravagance of the Baroque style fully developed, but a step within proved the Baths were well up to modern fashions. The baths were a place not only for washing, but for primping, preening, and socialisation. The less formal attire required for bathing made for an easier atmosphere to that of the palace, one in which the impropriety Charles' court was famed for could truly run rampant.

Comfort and luxury were the order of the day as far as the baths were concerned, and no expense had been spared. A lavishly decorated foyer allowed access to two separate areas - to the left, a heavy blue velvet curtain allowed entrance to the men's baths, to the right a red for the ladies. A servant always stood watch to ensure proper segregation, but it was not unheard of for sufficient distraction to shake her concentration upon the task at hand.

The hefty sum of a pound was charged for entry.

 

LORDS

Wearing underwear sufficient to only cover the most sensitive areas of a gentleman's anatomy, a gentleman entering the baths would find himself first in a room dominated by an enormous, sweet-scented bath. Steam rose constantly from the surface, the heat inside the bath house a comfortable contrast to the bitter cold outside. To one side of the bath, a wall was dominated by a Romanesque fountain, sirens and mermaids lounging amidst cascading water that ensured the room was never silent. Sitting by the fountain, one might almost be assured of private conversation. From one mermaid's hands a fountain of warm water spouted high, then down direclty into the baths.

For those seeking to perform their ablutions with an even greater semblance of privacy, curtained archways gave way to several rooms hosting smaller pools that might fit up to 5 gentlemen.

Another archway was sealed with a door rather than a curtain, behind which would be found a room heated to almost unbearable temperatures. In its center burned coals, with a water handy to be tipped over them and bring forth steam. Just beside the door outside, a stone cold bath was recessed into the wall.

One more door led to a walled outdoor area. The freezing cold air temperature was tempered by a dip into a steaming hot bath. Three sides boasted stone walls - the third was a wicker fence, behind which lay the ladies baths. It was an easy thing to hear and converse with the ladies on the other side, and a very enterprising man might find the occasional illusive peekhole...

 

LADIES

Upon entering the central bath, clad only in her shift, the bathing lady would find herself first with a choice - lavender, sage and mint, or rosemary? Three baths formed a ring about a central fountain, occupied by musician cherubs, from whose lips and instruments water flowed forth.

For those seeking to perform their ablutions with an even greater semblance of privacy, curtained archways gave way to several rooms hosting smaller pools that might fit up to 5 ladies.

Another archway led to a room in which the bath was filled not only with water, but also with a hint of honey and buttermilk. From the cloudy water rose an almost irresistable scent, overhanging frescoes giving the room an almost cavelike feel.

In the same manner as the men's baths, a doorway led to a sauna, accompanied by a cold bath.

The women could enjoy an outdoor bath, one wall being wicker instead of stone, beyond which bathed the men. The enterprising lady was just as capable of gaining an elusive glimpse through the fence as her male counterpart, should she so choose.

 

 

How can gentlemen stand to wear periwigs?

 

Waiting for Dorset at the entrance to the bathhouse, Anne-Elisabeth gave into the urge to scratch her scalp. Two ladies walking by quickened their pace. They probably thought she had lice. At first she had thought the periwig itself was causing the itching, so she had bought a more expensive one just today while she had been exploring the town. Unfortunately, the problem persisted. At least the new one, which was a deep burgundy color, looked great with her outfit. Her ensemble consisted of a 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 it, 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 was the only gentleman’s attire she currently possessed.

 

Anne-Elisabeth had stopped in front of the tailor’s shop this afternoon and had considered going in and saying she wanted to surprise her younger brother with a new suit and that he was the same size as she was, but she had not been in the mood to be laughed out of the shop. Other ladies who liked to disguise themselves as gentlemen had probably tried the same tactic, and tailors were known to be pompous and arrogant and overly proud of their work. They would never concede to fashion garments for a lady.

 

She hoped maybe Dorset would have a solution, though she didn’t plan to ask him about it tonight. Tonight was for pleasure, companionship, and witty conversation. Passion suffused her young body at the very thought of her handsome and intriguing lover. He had wanted to see her dressed as a man again. She wondered what he would think of her new, but extremely itchy, periwig. The rest he had seen before.  Remembering the lessons he had given her, she was attempting to act like a man even just standing it front of the building.

 

[Blackguard]

Around the corner came a gentleman in a dark cloak and a wide brimmed hat.  He watched his step as he approached.  "Evening good sir."  It was Dorset, though hard to see in the dark.

The baths had closed early, just before midnight, and the Earl gave four slow knocks.  He smirked at Anne as he waited for the outer door to open.  It did and  large servant ushered the pair inside.  "Good evening Mister Charles," the doorman greeted.  The door was closed behind and locked.

Dorset waved her silently into the men's bath house.  Once they were alone on the men's side, from out of the cloak he made appear two brushes, one for backscrubbing and a much smaller one ... for smaller areas.  He also produced a bar of heavily perfumed soap.  

"Right, now proper gentlemen do not go through any ceremony.  We drop our attire and enter the waters in a utilitarian function ... meaning we wish to soak with dispatch, and sneak a peek through the wicker when we can."

There were stools for draping one's attire and Dorset started disrobing at once.  "How did you find that attire?" he asked with a smile.  He knew what she was thinking.  "Men do not disrobe each other, or act provocatively when we undress in front of another," he advised, assuming his former role of tutor.  Once entirely naked, he was ready to splash into the pool.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“A pleasant evening to you too, sir,” Anne-Elisabeth replied, deepening her voice as Dorset approached. She envied him for wearing a cloak. Bess was making one for her, but it was not yet finished. Wearing a cloak made for a lady would have ruined her disguise, and so she shivered in the cool night air.

 

His smirk sent flames of desire spiraling through her young body, warming her instantly. He had apparently rented the entire bath house for the evening. As the servant did not address him by his title, she assumed that he was in disguise as well, perhaps as a rich merchant. Though the baths’ attendants had probably seen it all,  servants were prone to gossip. He would not want it known that he had secured the bath house for a rendezvous with another gentlemen. Anne-Elisabeth didn't want to contemplate what Pembroke would do with that information.

 

Preceding Dorset into the men’s section, she looked around with interest. She had expected tubs, not a Roman-style bath. Fragrant steam rose from the pool and formed wispy patterns in the air. She grinned mischievously when he pulled two brushes and a bar of soap from his cloak. The dark-haired Countess especially looked forward to using the smaller brush on him.

 

Anne-Elisabeth had planed to divest Dorset of his attire and seductively remove her own, but he informed her that gentlemen disrobed in an efficient fashion. As he began to undress, she pulled off her periwig and threw it against the wall. “How do you gentlemen endure wearing these things all the time?  They itch like hell."

 

As to her outfit: “It’s the same one I was wearing the last time I posed as a man. Only the periwig is different.” She began to disrobe, a bit more slowly than he did, for she was not accustomed to either dressing or undressing herself, no matter what she was wearing.

 

Anne-Elisabeth was down to her shirt and breeches by the time Dorset was completely nude. She took a moment to admire his naked form before pulling her shirt over her head, revealing the band she used to bind her breasts. “I really need to find a tailor who is willing to make a few decent sets of clothing for me.”

 

Edited January 21, 2023 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

The waters were still warm and the steam rose accordingly. The baths could be rented for private use after midnight and before sunrise if the price was right.

"We do not wear wigs often," he replied as he descended into the pool naked.  "It is more a French thing.  Ladies can wear monstrous wigs too you know."  He was floating on his back.

"I can take you to the tailor.  All we need say is that there is a court masquerade ball and you need gentlemen attire.  You need the right fit, so we do not want you borrowing clothes from other gentlemen.  You need a color like grey so that you can blend in.  In disguise you never want anyone to notice you," he advised again.  "I will get you a full suit and have the tailor send me the bill," he offered, unsure whether Anne really had wealth or not.  Beside, he needed to give her a gift episodically. 

 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“Unfortunately, I must wear them because gentlemen don’t grow their hair as long as mine.” Anne-Elisabeth removed her breast band and began unfastening her breeches. The first items she had taken off had been her stockings and shoes. Ladies from Barbados were accustomed to going barefoot and the floor was a lot cooler than the beach sands and not as perilous to walk on.

 

“I’ve seen a few Frenchwomen wearing them. I hope wigs never become fashionable in England. I have so much hair, I wouldn’t need one anyway. My maid could arrange my own tresses into those ridiculous styles.”

 

Stepping out of her breeches, she was now completely nude. As Dorset entered the pool, she began removing the combs from her raven hair, which tumbled down her back and over her shoulders in a silky profusion of curls.

 

Anne-Elisabeth's dark eyes widened when he promised to take her to a tailor and have a suit made for her. “Thank you, my lord!” she exclaimed. “You are always so good to me. I need to look the part when I approach printers with my epic.” Though she preferred bright hues, she agreed that she needed a subtler color when posing as a man. Calling too much attention to herself would make others scrutinize her more closely.

 

Without thinking, she made a shallow dive into the pool, coming to the surface beside Dorset. Anne-Elisabeth was close enough to touch him, but she restrained herself. “I suppose that is not how a gentlemen enters a bath.” She splashed him playfully, careful not to get any water in his face. “I’ll only be a man again when I put my disguise back on. Nobody would believe that I’m male while I’m naked. I have the wrong plumbing.”

[Blackguard]

Though he seemed lost in thought, Dorset watched her undress.  It was not as if it was a first experience with her for him, but each change of scenery and garb created a flame of excitement.

"How is your epic coming?" he asked quietly as he watched her ready to enter the pool.  With a splash she was beside him.  As she toyed with him, he returned with the statement "it is so dark in here, I might not be able to tell if the person next to me is a woman or man.  Perhaps you could do something to demonstrate you are indeed a woman?" he jested, failing to keep a straight face.  "I could have sworn I saw a man there that entered the pool."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth could feel Dorset’s eyes on her as she shed her garments, which was why she made a show of letting down her lustrous raven hair, which she considered one of her best features. She had disrobed slowly out of necessity, being unfamiliar with men's clothing and undressing without assistance.

 

She didn’t answer his question until she had entered the bath. “At the moment, I am studying the form of famous epics so that I will get it right.” The young Countess rolled her eyes. “If I don’t, Rochester will probably say it doesn’t count. I do need to start writing it soon. I haven't yet decided on a theme.  Do you have any suggestions?  Any role you would particularly like to play?"

 

His teasing made her laugh. So he wanted her to prove she was a woman? That was easy enough. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed her slick body against his. Anne-Elisabeth was not voluptuous, but she did have feminine curves in all the right places. “There,” she whispered into his ear, unable to resist a playful nibble. “Is that proof enough?”

 

[Blackguard]

Dorset watched her slip into the water and draw near.  He was content to float mostly motionless.

"The themes of Pembroke are most heavy drinking and violence.  Yet, even when sober he plots murder.  He is a ravenous beast dressed in court finery," he suggested.

As she drew close and rubbed against him, she might feel something stiffening beneath the waterline.  "Call me a skeptic, but I will need further proof."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

A beast disguised by court finery. That was an intriguing concept and Anne-Elisabeth might be able to include in her Arthurian idea if she used it. There were so many options, it was difficult to choose. Maybe I should just start writing and see where my brilliant mind takes me.

 

“Also, to rhyme or not to rhyme … that is the question. Blank verse would be easier but rhyme would be more impressive.”

 

She had already expected that Dorset would claim he needed more proof, even though she could feel him stiffen under the water. Another game was on. Reaching down, she stroked his cock briefly and then glided to the other side of the bath.

 

“In that case ...” Anne-Elisabeth favored him with a sultry smirk. “Seek and you shall find.”

 

[Blackguard]

"I like rhyme but certain self-described literati believe that rhyme is for plebians and otherwise for patricians.  Yet, I find patricians enjoy guilty pleasures too.  Rhymes are easier to remember and do we not want immortality for our words?" he urged.  He knew she favored rhyme.  O'Neill, on the other hand, was a student of the art form, so he might eschew rhyme in favor of allure of aristocratic semantics.

Anne slipped away to the other side of the bath, inviting him to approach.  He had expected her to climb upon him, but she retreated instead.  "I suppose I will need to probe your flesh for evidence," he uttered in a mock serious voice.  As he reached her, his hand slid slowly up her thighs towards the anatomy that would confirm her gender.  His index finger found her pleasure spot and began rubbing in increasing tempo.  "This small projection seems to small to be a penis, but I will try to excite it into greater proportion, so that a scientific judgement can be made."  He provided a snide smile as he hoped to drive her mad for release with hs rigorous titillation.

 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth had never heard that hypothesis. “His Majesty enjoys rhyme and nobody would call him a plebeian. Any poem, written in any form, will be remembered if it touches the soul of its readers. I’m leaning toward rhyme, but I won’t be composing it in limericks. I tried and … well, let’s just say that my efforts helped to fuel Mademoiselle Vauquelin’s bonfire earlier this evening.”

 

She had planned to evade Dorset and lead him on a merry chase, but he was too fast and caught her before she could slip away. So he insisted on examining her to make sure she was female? His game sounded like more fun than hers. “If you insist,” she replied. “I think you will be pleased with what you discover.”

 

His hand slid sensuously toward the apex of her thighs, inciting a sweet and tantalizing ache between them. When he began to rub the pearl of he pleasure, Anne-Elisabeth gasped at the intensity of the sensations that he evoked in her. Her back arched, her exposed breasts thrusting upwards.

 

It was difficult to concentrate with bright little thrills shimmering through her, increasing by the moment. The soft waves rippling against her naked flesh increased her desire to a painful intensity. “Are you satisfied yet?” Her voice was low and seductive. “Because if you continue much longer, I will be.”

[Blackguard]

"Rhyme is more entertaining," he argued.  "It requires a special skill.  As for limericks, they are best conjured on the spot as a magician might conjure a flame.  In five lines you can praise or defame, using jut enough truth to draw a smile."

Speaking of conjuring on the spot, the Earl opted to conjure pleasure on Anne.  "I think you will be satisfied then by my further probing," he predicted with a smile.  His fingers moved further upward and then inward, and then picked up a tempo on the spot that would cause the greatest pleasure, happy to be unselfish in seeing her rewarded with a release. 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“I do find that it is more difficult to write a limerick than to produce one spontaneously.” Anne-Elisabeth shared Dorset’s love of limericks for the exact same reason.

 

All thoughts fled as he continued his tantalizing ministrations, moving inside her and then back to her pearl. Though she would have liked to take him with her to the pinnacle of pleasure, she decided to allow him to satisfy her, as he seemed to find gratification in doing so.

 

Placing her hands on Dorset’s shoulders so that she wouldn’t lose her balance and go under, she gave herself up to the thrilling sensations suffusing her body and mind. Anne-Elisabeth pulled him close and pressed her lips to his as flames of delight shot through her, filling her with exquisite ecstasy. Her tongue sought to dance with his if he allowed it. He would be able to feel her shudder with bliss over and over again.

 

As the sensations began to fade, she grinned up at him, her face flushed becomingly. “Are you certain now that I am not a man?” She reached down to softly stroke his cock, intentionally making ripples so that he would feel the water lapping around it.  "I know the perfect place for this, unless you would rather me bathe you first."

[Blackguard]

There was a grin as she lay back to enjoy his ministrations.  As expected, her thirst for kisses came alive and Dorset was happy to join in the union of lips and tongues.

"Well," he played along, "if it is the perfect place for it, who am I to refuse?"  His aroused grin returned.  "Perhaps you could guide me to the spot."  Her grip as a pleasant sensation and he allowed her to direct his member to the place she recommended.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

It looked as if bathing would have to wait. After the pleasure he had just given her, Anne-Elisabeth was not surprised that Dorset didn’t want to wait for his own satisfaction. His amorous grin sent waves of desire washing over her  She was ready for him again. Like many supremely confident women who thought highly of themselves, she was able to have multiple orgasms in a short amount of time. Gentlemen had to recover before a second round. That’s where the bathing would come in.

 

“I assure you, there is no better place for it,” she purred. The water’s buoyancy assisted her in jumping on top of him so that she could wrap her legs around his waist, while guiding his rigid member inside her at the same time. Her inner muscles contracted, trying to pull him in as deeply as possible and her arms entwined around his neck. Oh, how amazing he feels within me!

 

“There,” she said, beginning to bounce up and down gently. The warm water swirled around them. “We fit together rather well, do we not?"

[Blackguard]

Dorset watched Anne move to mount him with the eye of a theatrical producer watching an actress perform her part.  He too had been thinking a bout could be followed by abath and then another bout.

"It does feel perfect," he exclaimed with a husky voice as she rose and fell on him.  As things rose to a crescendo, he was raising his own pelvis violently to meet her fall.  Such wild penetration only hastened the scripted ending, which came with splashing water and a submerged explosion.

"We fit together like lock and key," he declared.  "I just need to keep the lock well-oiled."  There were some quiet minutes of bliss that passed before he called "now where is that brush?"

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“It is divine,” she whispered close to Dorset’s ear, blowing into it to increase his ardor. Anne-Elisabeth ground her pearl against his pelvis each time he lifted it. The water lapping around it added to the alluring sensations flowing through her, as did the glorious feeling of his cock striking her back walls. Harder and faster she rode him, her need for him increasing with every second.

 

She leaned back slightly to increase his pleasure and her own, her hands digging slightly into his shoulders. Her pert breasts bounced enticingly and she moaned sensuously as she reached the pinnacle of euphoria, closing her eyes while white-hot thrills of bliss consumed her completely. This climax was more intense than the last, most likely because her handsome lover was sharing it with her.

 

Anne-Elisabeth continued to bounce softly as her rapture subsided and little aftershocks rippled through her body. Her arms again entwined around his neck. “This particular lock needs frequent oiling,” she murmured as her breathing began to slow.

 

Dorset asked where the brush was and she glanced over to where he had placed the brushes and the bar of soap. “I will fetch it.” Reluctantly, she pulled away from him. “I feel so bereft now.” Her full lips turned down into a sensual pout, “as if something vital to my existence is missing.”

 

Quickly submerging, she glided underwater to the edge of the bath and came up from air. Gathering all three items, Anne-Elisabeth splashed back over to him. “Which one do you want to use?” she asked with a playful smirk. She playfully caressed his wet chest with the larger brush. “Or shall I do the honors?”

 

Edited March 1, 2023 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

Each thrust and grind increased the temperature in Dorset's body, far beyond the warmth of the water.  Heat and pressure built within, not unlike a volcano.  His voice rumbled like a volcanic quake  The release in the seconds leading up to the eruption.  The release produced the same white-hot thrill that she felt and, like her, the strength flowed from his limbs as the inner explosion ebbed.

Dutifully, Anne retrieved the brush and soap.  In response to her query, he considered that he had serviced her first in the foreplay, so was supported in his view that it was her turn.  "Ladies first," he declared, as he swiveled position quickly and presented his back with a laugh.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth had no idea why, but her climaxes with Dorset were longer, more powerful, and more exquisite than with any of her previous lovers. Maybe he was simply more experienced than her other partners, or maybe it had to do with the similarities in their personalities. They were both creative, intelligent, and lusty libertine poets with playful dispositions who enjoyed indulging in frequent carnal pleasure.

 

Though at the time she had been wary, now she was glad that she had accepted his offer at the New Year’s ball to shag him for an introduction to the King. If she had refused, she would have never known what she had missed, both in bed … or baths … and without, for he was as intriguing to converse with as he was to shag.

 

The young Countess submerged once more and came up pushing her hair away from her face. When the water became soapy, it would no longer be prudent to do so. Setting the brush on the side of the pool, she dipped the soap in the water and lathered his back, caressing it enticingly. “I didn’t see you at the bonfire tonight,” she remarked, picking up the brush and beginning to scrub him with it. “It was quite satisfying to sacrifice a play I wasn’t happy with to the flames. The party would have been much more fun if you had been there too.”

[Blackguard]

Dorset almost purred as she scrubbed his back, not as a servant might.  "I did not know of the bonfire," he admitted.  "With proper notice I would have brought an effigy of Pembroke to burn.."  He sighed at the thought.  "Did you bring a Sedley play to burn?" he laughed.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

Anne-Elisabeth definitely didn’t scrub Dorset’s back like a servant. She caressed him lightly with the brush, while occasionally running her nails gently down his bare skin.  His soft rumbles sent waves of delectable heat through her body.  “You didn’t know?” she asked incredulously. “I figured that Rochester would have told you. He was there and he did ask if an effigy would be burned. I suggested it should be his and he, of course, said it should be mine.”

 

Dorset was taller than she was, and she had to stand on tiptoe to nibble on his neck, pressing her body against his to get close enough. Stepping back, she resumed her sensual scrubbing. “I sacrificed a play of my own that I was working on last season. When I started researching epics, I realized it was crap. It was very satisfying, watching the flames lick the pages one by one.” Before she said ‘lick,’ she washed the soap off of the center of his back and licked his spine immediately after she uttered it.

 

“But there will be other libertine gatherings this season, I'm sure. Is the Gang planning anything yet? I wish I could throw a party of my own, but it would be crowded in my tiny little room with my cat.”

[Blackguard]

"No, I did not know," Dorset admitted.  "Sedley came to me in the afternoon and told me that Merriweather is dead.  His servants said suicide but a Life Guard judged it murder.  I think it murder too, for Alexander had too many enemies."  The sensual feelings were dampened by such dark talk. 

"Did the Irishman teach you about epics then, or did you have an epiphany that your play was crap?" he offered with a laugh to restore the mood.  He moved to sit down in the pool so that Anne would not need to stand.  "Have you a plan for your epic?"

It was only later , when she raised a party, that Dorset returned to the more somber topic.  "I think a night to celebrate Merriweather's life by getting roaring drunk.  Johnny will suggest raping someone in his honor, but you should ignore it." 

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Anne-Elisabeth could only remember speaking with Merriweather once, when he had escorted her to the Banquet Hall after the limerick competition at the New Years Eve Ball. By her standards, he had been respectful (meaning he had only propositioned her once) but she had heard a lot of rumors about his lecherous behavior since then. It didn’t surprise her that he had been murdered. The culprit was probably the father of one of the women he’d raped.

 

She could sense that Dorset’s ardor had faded a bit, which was perfectly understandable. However, she was certain that her arousing ministrations would bring it back before long. The next time she gently ran her nails down his back, she didn’t stop at the waterline but moved under it to give his bum the same treatment and rubbed her curves teasingly against him.

 

“Master O’Neill has given me a few pointers. We are conspirators in this challenge, not competitors. I’ve been reading the epics he suggested and I realized that I was writing my play all wrong. There was nothing I could do but discard it and start over, though I won’t have time to write it until my epic is done. I’m still considering different themes for it. So far, nothing I have written is worth reading."

 

Dorset sat down in the bath, but Anne-Elisabeth remained standing and moved to his neck and shoulders, every now and then nibbling his ear and blowing into it. She seethed inside when he told her of Rochester’s suggestion. The Countess might be a flamboyant libertine who broke all the rules and damned the consequences, but she did not condone non-consensual sex in any form. “I won’t ignore it. I shall thrash him for it the next time I see him.” It would be such a spectacular thrashing that Pembroke himself would take notes.

 

“Well, count me in. I will bring some of my coconut rum.” In one graceful movement, she twirled in front of him and plopped down in his lap. The water swirled around them. “I’m done with your back. What part would you like me to scrub next?”

[Blackguard]

Dorset enjoyed the ministrations.  Who could not enjoy such caresses?  Nevertheless, his mind wandered as they spoke.

"Johnny would not rape anyone, I think, but would call for one, tongue-in-cheek, to celebrate a degenerate's life.  The man had more money than I could fathom.  He was said to be a precious metals and gems trader, but his business was shrouded in mystery.  Whenever we needed coin, he was happy to oblige.  He was a man that hoped money would buy wit, in a way that Catholics hope money purchases indulgences.  He was both and neither."

After a long sigh, he appearance brightened.  "Apologies for a moment of darkness in the small hours.  Tell me instead of something funny or scandalous to right my mood," he implored in jest.

The talk of epics seemed abut premature, so the Earl did not follow up on it for the moment.  Later he would seek an insight, or assist her if she asked.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“I still won’t let it slide,” Anne-Elisabeth insisted. “At least let me kick him in the balls when he suggests it.” She had not known that Merriweather was so wealthy. He had not struck her as witty enough to earn a place in the Merry Gang. Now she understood that they had allowed him among them because they wanted him to fund their scandalous parties and other mischief. She felt a bit sorry for him, until she reminded herself of all the women he had raped. Who gets his money now that he’s dead?

 

Dorset had not told her what part of his body that he wanted her to scrub next, so she wriggled around and make herself comfortable on his lap. “No need to apologize.” Lifting her head, she kissed him lightly. “Who is going to throw the party? I would like to help plan it.”

 

Anne-Elisabeth hadn’t heard or seen anything he would be interested in and she didn’t want to depress him more by telling him about what he had missed at the bonfire the previous evening. “Well, I’m hoping my epic will be both funny and scandalous. In truth, I could use a little help. Master O’Neill’s is going to portray Pembroke as an anti-hero. So he should be the villain in mine and you shall be the hero."

Edited April 8, 2023 by Anne-Elisabeth Devereux

[Blackguard]

"Please," Dorset replied with a smile forming, "kick Johnny in the stones whenever you like."

Her move to his lap was a welcome thing as she kissed him.  It was evident that his spirits were lifting, as well as a part of his anatomy.  "We do not plan parties," Dorset announced flippantly.  "We gather, drink heavily, insult each other, have some laughs, create ridiculous contests and dares, solve all the problems at court with pithy banter and then forget most of it after we retch ourselves to sleep," he offered insincerely.  "Did you have a better idea?" he asked in jest.

As for Pembroke, his name elicited a frown.  "I think the man an animal, rather than an anti-hero.  He keeps a menagerie of fellow animals around himself.  Is it because he is a predator and he is part of the pack, or is he really prey behind the facade of bravado brought on by drowning himself in the false courage of liquor?  I leave it to you to sort," he offered with malice starting to rise at the thought of him.

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“I’ll tell him you gave me permission after I do it.” Anne-Elisabeth wasn’t certain whether she would be bold enough to actually kick him in the nuts or not. It likely depended on how much she was drinking when the opportunity presented itself. If their party turned out to be true to Dorset’s description, that would probably be quite a bit.

 

“Maybe you could set a date, time, and place,” she suggested, “so that nobody who wants to attend will miss it.” She understood the appeal of spontaneity but didn’t want to miss out on the revelry herself. Then again, Dorset would hopefully send her a note when it happened. And she would tell Master O”Neill. Or perhaps he would be informed first and contact her.

 

Anne-Elisabeth could feel him rising to the occasion again. It didn’t take him long to recover. Though she wanted to straddle him and guide him inside her, she slid off his lap instead to prolong their anticipation. Handing Dorset the brush, she presented her back. “Your turn.”

 

His thoughts on Pembroke were similar to others she had heard. “I often hear him described as an animal, so maybe that will be my theme. I shall write about him as a beast.” She threw him a smirk over his shoulder. “I guess that makes you the beauty.

 

“With that in mind, I should be able to write the outline in a day or two. I would like this epic to completely blow Rochester’s mind. You know him better than I do. How would you suggest I impress him?"

[Blackguard]

"Sedley was the one closest to him," Dorset remarked about Merriweather.  "He had financed several of Sedley's plays.  I suspect that he may suggest Friday night, in a wine cellar perhaps, or maybe at Merriweather's house.  I shall let you know."  He was fairly certain that Sedley would allow Anne and James to join.

As she presented her back, Dorset took the brush with a smile.  "I think you need a heavy scrub to get all of those dirty thoughts out of your mind."  With that, he applied the brush vigorously to her back, but listening carefully for objection.  "Extra soap I think," he announced as he paused to apply some.  "If it is too rough, you can turn and I will do a much lighter caress of the brush against your front."  The offer was there.

As she asked for his ideas about an epic, Dorset did not have a ready answer.  "Better to find a unicorn than hope to impress Johnny," he advised.  "Best to impress yourself and the gathering.  That Irishman could help you more, I should think.  Johnny seems to like him."

[Anne-Elisabeth Devereux]

“I look forward to receiving your message.” Anne-Elisabeth narrowed her eyes teasingly. “Or do you plan on fetching me yourself? If so, come a bit early and you can help me choose what to wear.” She rather doubted that Dorset would take her up on that offer, but it would be fun if he did.

 

She laughed. “Then I suppose I should have scrubbed you harder too?” He was quite rough, but she didn’t mind. It was invigorating and the feel of the silky soap tantalized her bare skin. The young Countess planned on taking him up on his offer but not quite yet.

 

“A unicorn?” She laughed again. “You are a unicorn.” Reaching back, she lightly stroked his cock. “And I love your magical horn."

 

Anne-Elisabeth sighed. “If I manage to write an epic at all, I will impress myself. It is a daunting task, and I shall ask you for your honest opinion when I am done, as well as Master O’Neill’s. I believe we will eventually collaborate on a project or two and I’m certain that I can learn a lot from him.”

 

Finally she turned around to face him, scooting closer so that Dorset could reach her. “Do you think that the King will hold his poetry completion this season? I need more opportunities to impress him if I want to become part of his entourage like you and the Merry Gang.”

[Blackguard]

"I suppose you are fetching," Dorset began, "but I do not plan to do the fetching," he added for a laugh.  "I suppose we should wear something black," he uttered aloud.  "I will let you know."

As for the ode to Pembroke, "maybe they call it an epic because it is so hard to write," he offered with a grin.  "I am sure that it shall be a fine work.  You have a quick mind,"he offered as a compliment.

She turned and he thought Anne wanted to become intimate.  Instead, she wanted to discuss ways of catching the King's eye.  It might be easier to catch another part of the King's anatomy, but he withheld such thoughts.  "If there is no contest this season, then we shall just have to intrude upon him one day and lambast him with limericks until he agrees to do as we wish," he laughed.