12 comments/ 83376 views/ 36 favorites A Use of Power By: krr1957 This story deals with themes of female domination in a lesbian setting; if you are likely to be offended by such material please try a different story. Chapter One I was about five years old when I first began to understand the power and influence I could wield as a niece of the king. I made life a misery for the courtiers who were responsible for me, but it availed me nothing when, ten years later, I was betrothed to Alphonse de Guigane. De Guigane was nearly sixty years old but it was an expedient match. Fortunately, my reputation as a woman of beauty had spread abroad and it was the king himself who decreed that the marriage would not be consummated until my eighteenth birthday. He knew I was a prize and obviously hoped, in the course of time, to reap greater political capital from my potential as a bride. Unfortunately, de Guigane did not co-operate by dying in the intervening years and the day had come for the bargain to be fulfilled. The last of my things were being packed for the journey south to de Guigane's castle when my maid brought Cecile to my room. The young woman looked terrified as well she might do. She was the daughter of a minor noble who had had the misfortune to pick the wrong side in the war. Her father was executed and his estate was forfeit leaving her an orphan but her ample charms had caught the eye of the king. She was employed at court as a music teacher to the boy prince but her real value was to serve as the king's bed warmer. I too found her fascinating. Her body was undoubtedly that of a woman but her pretty face lent her an appearance of ethereal youth. Sadly for her, the king had moved on to a new favourite and he had effectively made a gift of her to me. I was to decide whether or not to let her join my retinue but she knew, as well as I, that if I turned her down, she would be cast out penniless on to the streets. I glanced at Maurelle and she gave me the slightest of nods. She had been my ladies maid and companion since my childhood and no one knew me better. As she drew back into the shadows I put out my hand and lifted Cecile's chin just a fraction. "What am I to do with you? I find that I am not in need of a music teacher. Do you have any other talents that you think I might employ?" Her eyes found mine but as quickly darted away. They were all the same. Some of them had never known that women such as I existed and, when confronted with it, most abjured it and others even feared for their mortal souls. "You have nothing to say for yourself? Then I will have Maurelle take you back and I will tell the king that I have no use for you." With that she threw herself at my feet and she began to plead but she was not the first and I had to struggle to keep the smile from my face. "Compose yourself...stand up...and undress for me." Any lingering hope that she might have harboured was now extinguished. She slowly rose to her feet and looked towards Maurelle in the darkened corner. "Ignore her. You will look at me and you will undress." It took an age before her trembling hands began to work the fastenings of her dress but I was in no hurry and her obvious distress was generating a very pleasant heat between my legs. "Those too.." She had stopped when she reached her undergarments but now proceeded to strip herself completely. "Take your hands away." She was standing folded up into herself with her arms covering her breasts and her hands crossed in front of her sex. It took a great effort of will for her to bring her arms to her side for she had never felt more truly naked Before ushering her into my presence Maurelle had seen to it that she was bathed and had then applied a blade. The knives themselves were ivory handled and tempered from the finest Toledo steel. It amused Maurelle to demonstrate the keenness of the edge by dropping a length of silk across the blade to watch it fall to the floor in two pieces. It ensured that her charges remained perfectly still as she completely denuded them of body hair. Some of them no doubt thought that the ritual arose from some perverted need of mine to make them look like children but that was not true; had I wanted children I could have easily indulged myself. No, the truth was that I wanted them to be cleansed, to understand that this was something transcendent, a world away from the rutting of men. Her sex still looked a little pink but it shone with the application of a soothing unguent and I was only too aware of how soothing it could be when applied by Maurelle. "Hold yourself straighter." She lifted her shamed face and pulled back her shoulders a little allowing me a better view of her delightful breasts. She understood the effect created by her impressive décolletage, and the King's particular partiality, and I had often imagined what lay beneath the armour of her tight bodices. The truth was that she owed no debt to the dressmaker's art. Her breasts were firm and fully rounded with nipples very dark for someone so fair of hair. In the slight chill of the room they had already swollen and I felt my tongue move in my mouth. I could wait no longer and I delighted in the shock on her face as I slowly let my robe slip to the floor to reveal my naked body beneath. She had been raised in a society in which only those in menial positions would find themselves in the presence of other naked women, be it their betters or others of their class, and so it was only natural that she would want to look away... but she could not. I had already broken the taboo by having her undress and now her eyes guiltily appraised me. Unlike other women at court who would try to disguise any southern blood in their veins with the judicious application of face powder I was proud of my dark colouring. I have a full head of thick black hair and I scoffed at the current vogue for wigs. I am told that my dark eyes smoulder and the artist Bouvier described my mouth as the most sensuous he had ever painted. My breasts are modest and I do not have the swell of hip that men seem to find so appealing but I like the shape of my legs helped by the many hours that I spend riding. Finally her gaze fell to the floor and I moved to take a seat in the audience chair. When she looked up again she gave an involuntary gasp as she found me sitting with my legs shamelessly parted. "Come here Cecile." She remained frozen to the spot her body shaking with indecision. Every fibre of her being was telling her to run from the room but she knew that her only salvation lay in the commission of this one unthinkable act. "You know what you must do..." For a moment I wondered just how much Maurelle had said to her two days ago. Had she been vague? Or had she taken delight in explaining the most intimate nature of the service that was required of her giving time for her anguish to grow? I suspected that it was the latter. She almost stumbled forward as she forced herself to her knees before me. "Open your eyes. I want you to see what you are doing." For a split second a look of hatred flashed across her face only to be replaced by pained resignation. She tentatively reached towards by sex but I slapped her hand aside. "Just your mouth." Oh how I wish I could hold on to that final moment. Those last few seconds as they fight with themselves before the inevitable surrender is just so delicious and so it was now. I could see the pinpricks of perspiration on her brow as she girded herself and then leaned in. Some of them take time, resisting to the last, but others try to get it over with and so it was with Cecile. She licked me with a broad sweep of her tongue and I was amused to watch as she tried to suppress a shudder. Her face registered the initial sharp tang but she gave herself no time for reflection as she quickly licked a second time. That first magical touch heated my sex so that she now caught the true essence of me and I waited for her reaction. I have seen those for whom that first real taste is enough to transform them, others accept their fate stoically, and then there are those that will never overcome their inhibitions. Cecile was one of the latter and, as she began to lick rhythmically, a tear broke from her eye. Unfortunately for her this display of distress simply made me weep in an altogether different way and I sensed her distaste as I felt my sex getting wetter. I let her continue for a few minutes, in her own clumsy manner, and I could almost read her mind. She was feeling disgusted but thought that it was not as bad as she perhaps feared. She was trying to set her mind free as she willed herself to get through it but it was time to give another lesson. "I want to feel your tongue inside me..." She looked up at me from between my legs her eyes wide in disbelief. It was obvious that she had never enjoyed this particular pleasure herself which was hardly surprising as, from my understanding, it is a very rare man indeed who would be prepared to abase himself. "Don't keep me waiting..." Her body gave an involuntary shiver but she managed to get control of herself and made her first hesitant attempt. Her tongue brushed against my nether lips and it was tempting to tell her to linger there but I wanted her total surrender. She slowly applied a gentle pressure but, aroused as I was, it was going to take an effort on her part. She firmed her tongue and tried again and I sighed as I felt that wonderful initial parting. With her tongue deep rooted I could now hold her in place as she came to terms with the heat and wetness of my inner core. There would be time for more intensive lessons but for now my body demanded release. "Don't close your eyes!" Her face was a picture of misery verging on horror as I sought out that single pleasure spot with my well tutored fingers. Her nurse had no doubt warned her of the dire consequences of such self indulgence but now she was being forced to witness it from intimately close quarters. I rubbed quickly and purposefully, my fingers soon slick with moisture, and then, bearing down on her captive tongue, I set myself free. For a few seconds I was still, my body unbending, but then I groaned as the familiar waves of pleasure washed over me. When it had passed I slumped, unladylike, my brow perspiring, but my muscles were still reflexively embracing her tongue. I had to force myself to relax in order to release her but I made her keep station. The reek of my arousal was heavy in the air and I wanted her to be familiar with it because it was going to dominate her life for a long time to come. Finally, I stood up and retrieved my robe and I was pleased to note that she remained on her knees awaiting my instruction. She gave a quiet sniffle and wiped a tear from her blushing cheeks. Taking her cue Maurelle emerged from the shadows and we exchanged glances. Over the years our understanding of one another had become almost telepathic and she smiled as, out of Cecile's sight, she started to undress. She always wore black and her clothes were plainly tailored for comfort eschewing courtly fashions. She had spent almost her entire life trying to blend into the background and to remain anonymous. She removed her cap and shook out her lustrous brown hair and, when naked, she became an entirely different woman. She was a little more than ten years older than me but could pass for much younger if she so wished. With me she had the freedom to be who she wanted to be and she held herself with a proud bearing that would have astounded anyone else who knew her. I thought her beautifully proportioned and I had always been envious of her heavy breasts with their large perked nipples. She never applied face powder or other artifices but she was not in need of them. Her dark brown eyes were beguiling as was the fullness of her sculpted lips. She too had high born antecedents but it had been her choice to enter into service to avoid, what for her would be, the living hell of an arranged marriage. Her natural nobility was now apparent as she moved to take the seat that I had so recently vacated. She had obviously not forewarned Cecile of this additional duty as the young woman shied away and cried out in refusal but I rebuked her sharply. "I do not give much for your chances out on the streets; I suppose a pretty girl like you might find a new benefactor but at what cost? With me you are guaranteed privilege and position but you will obey me in all things. Come, surely it is easier than being the King's whore?" My barbs struck home and for a heartbeat or two there was rebellion in her eyes. She knew nothing of Maurelle and assumed that she was being asked to humble herself with a mere servant. Maurelle, for her part, sat serenely, with her legs parted, confident in the outcome. Cecile knew she had no other choice, at least for now. She was, no doubt, thinking that she must endure until we had journeyed south when she would try and seek salvation. I was equally sure that I would devise a way to unbreakably bind her to me She mutely took her place and stared uneasily at the raw beauty of Maurelle's womanhood. In the midst of a trimmed thicket of dark curls her prominent labia were already a little swollen to reveal a glimpse of sweet pink promise at their heart. After what seemed an age she plucked up courage and made an assay with the tip of her tongue. She fastidiously licked along the exposed fringes and Maurelle smiled indulgently. Like me, she liked nothing more than breaking in an ingénue but she was, if anything more demanding. She tolerated Cecile's timidity for a few moments but then she pulled her in tight and I laughed as I heard the squelch of moisture. Her captive struggled but she was held close and her futile attempt to get away only served to increase Maurelle's excitement. One of her many skills lay in the preparation of perfumes and for herself she favoured a distillate of frankincense. After her daily bath she would anoint those parts of her body that she would have served as Cecile could now attest as the heady scent rose from the heated thighs of her tormentress. It was from this, perhaps, that she had cause to reappraise Maurelle's status. No lowly serving woman would aspire to purity in this manner and, I was willing to wager, nor did Cecile herself. Maurelle closed her eyes and gave a murmur of satisfaction which could only come from the pleasure of having a tongue, willing or otherwise, deeply engaged. Assured of Cecile's acquiescence she slipped her legs over her shoulders letting the weight of them keep her captive in place I recognized the signs and retired to my dressing room to get myself prepared for the day ahead. When I returned, almost an hour later, Cecile was still on her knees. I could see from the set of her body that her knees ached and her neck was cramped and I wondered if Maurelle had allowed her any respite. On seeing me return she smiled and lazily relinquished her position. As she rose from the chair I could not be sure that I had ever seen anyone as red of face as Cecile at that moment. Her damp hair was matted to her head and she could not quite close her mouth altogether. Out of her sight I mimed a scolding face to Maurelle but she demurely smiled back in mock apology for we both knew that the true extent of Cecile's torment was only just beginning. Chapter Two The journey south took seven days but, two days out, I sent Maurelle and a small escort on ahead. Ostensibly she was to check that all preparations had been made for my arrival but in reality she would circulate amongst the servants to see what information could be usefully garnered. Maurelle was the most intelligent person I had ever met. She told me that her friends and family were dismayed when she gave up her own prospects to take up a position of lady in waiting at court but, in so doing, she could avoid marriage and indulge her love of books. Her accumulated knowledge was far reaching and she had a grasp of politics which would put most men to shame. I think that we would have forged a friendship under any circumstances but when she recognized in me that which set her apart a unique bond was formed. Whilst my father confessor preached the sanctity of marriage and subservience to ones husband Maurelle taught me how to be true to myself. When I felt unholy urges in the night it was Maurelle who introduced me to the forbidden text describing what the Greeks called the "kleitoris" or "little hill". She explained that everything I felt was natural and that there was no sin in touching myself as I wished. Much later she introduced me to a willing serving girl of my own age who helped to complete my education and that particular reminiscence prompted a tingling between my legs which I knew exactly how to satisfy. We were spending the night in the country manor of the sieur de Bremme. The family was of low rank but the manor house was the best fortified building in the immediate area. The Seigneur was both obsequious and tiresome but I observed the niceties and retired to my chambers as soon as was polite after a banquet that seemed never ending. A fire had been laid and the bed turned down and it was bliss to strip out of my heavy clothes and lay naked upon the coverlet. After a few moments there was a quiet but familiar knock at the door. I closed my eyes and spoke just loudly enough to be heard. "Come." I could not see her but it amused me to imagine her face when she found me naked. Emma was a foreign seamstress in my employ. She had been recommended to me during a formal visit in the north and I quickly found that her talents stretched to far more than dressmaking. She was some years older than me but in the time of our brief acquaintance the poor girl had convinced herself that she was in love. When the time came for our delegation to leave she begged me to take her with me. I explained the impossibilities and in her desperation she said that she only wished to serve. She probably thought that, over time, I would submit to her charms once more and I suppose I should have stood by my refusal but the prospect of having that delightful mouth at my disposal whenever I wished was too tempting. I insisted that she vouchsafe herself to me alone and this had an unforeseen advantage. It transpired that the longer I denied her the more desperately she tried to please when I deigned to grant her access to my person. It had now been more than a fortnight since last we were together and I lazily ran my fingers over my sex knowing just how much it would inflame her. Tonight I would avail myself but first I would tease her a little. Over the past weeks I had added a new condition to the terms of our relationship. Whenever she travelled with me she was required to seek out potential bed mates for me and only if she was successful was she afforded any privileges. This was deliciously cruel in so many ways not least because I was very particular about who I would take to my bed. There was also the danger of her being caught out in her enquiries. Such a proposal was almost tantamount to witchcraft and I, of course, would deny everything. Added to all of this was the jealousy that she must feel but still she was prepared to demean herself. Without opening my eyes I asked. "Have you found someone?" When she answered in the affirmative I sat up sharply. We had only been at the manor for a few hours and the answer was unexpected. As she stepped back to the door I quickly covered myself and then had to contain my shock when Marie-Élise, wife of the Seigneur, walked into the room. For a moment I felt a sense of panic, wondering if I had been found out, but quickly dispelled the notion. Marie-Élise favoured me a conspiratorial smile and closed the door behind her. A Use of Power Over dinner she had played the dutiful wife and I wondered what the dullard had done to win himself so lovely a prize. Her beautifully curled blonde hair and piercing blue eyes spoke of the north lands but her name implied otherwise. I pride myself on being able to intuit a woman's true nature but I saw nothing in her to suggest that she was other than she appeared to be. Perhaps it had been the way in which she doted on her young son that had cast a veil. She half turned and lightly ran a finger over Emma's shoulder. "A pretty young thing..." Now I understood. Emma had not found her out, it had been Marie-Élise who had made the advance. How surprised then had she been when Emma brought her to my room? Or perhaps that had been her plan all along. I looked at her with renewed respect. "Would you like her to see her undressed?" Emma looked shocked but Marie-Élise's eyes sparkled now safe in the knowledge that I was indeed a kindred spirit. "Yes...I think I would." Emma stood uncertainly until I roused her from her stupor. "Don't keep us waiting!" As she hesitantly started to remove her clothing I was intrigued as to how this game was going to play out. "Oh my, she is like a little girl!" As Emma stood naked before us Marie-Élise was fascinated but her denuded sex which was at odds with the perfectly brushed red tresses which hung almost to the small of her back. I, of course, had seen Emma naked innumerable times and it was interesting to see how she was viewed by another. Completely unabashed, she ran her fingers over Emma's smooth mound before surveying the plumpness of her freckled breasts but I decided that the time had come to reaffirm my control. "Emma, make our guest comfortable, help her to undress." Marie-Élise stood still and allowed Emma to remove her clothing. Her body, thus revealed, was very much like my own and I noted her appreciation as I relinquished the sheet with which I was covering myself. In making her own comparison she absently used her fingers to comb the blonde growth that dressed her sex and looked, once more, towards Emma. "Can she...?" For a moment I was unsure what she was asking but then realized that she wanted to know if Emma was proficient with a blade. I answered quickly. "Of course...but your husband?" "...prefers more meat on the bones. I have produced his heir and he now has no need for me in his bed." Her theatrical pout told me that the arrangement suited her eminently. "Emma, fetch water and oil." A small cauldron sat in the side of the fireplace with water for my ablutions and Emma decanted some into the porcelain washing bowl. The mention of oil was enough to confirm what was required of her and she produced my trousse de toilette. Marie-Élise took a seat at the fireside and, without hesitation, she spread her legs wide to accommodate Emma who looked at me for permission. I gave the slightest nod and she went to her knees. Using a cloth she carefully washed Marie-Élise between the legs and then poured a measure of oil into the palm of her hand. It was a secret blend of Maurelle's created from the leaves of the myrtle and I watched Marie-Élise's reaction with amusement Emma would never be as skilled as Maurelle but she was not without abililty. As she began to work oil into the wet hair Marie-Élise would be feeling a pleasant warmth and then a sharp chill as Emma took her hands away. She paused a moment to let the oil do its work and then she deftly set to work with the blade. A few bold strokes were enough to almost complete the task followed by a precise caress to ensure a perfect smoothness. As Emma washed her for a second time Marie-Élise mewled with delight and could hardly wait to run her fingers over her own bare skin. It warmed me to know that the process would only have heightened Emma's desperate need to please me but Marie-Élise too was greedily aroused. "Don't just look! I want you to lick me!" Emma looked at me in desperation and I smiled as I spoke. "She is devoted to me alone. I find that denying her only helps to fuel her ardour." Marie-Élise looked piqued but responded quickly. "I will trade you a mouth for a mouth." She rose from the chair bringing with her the embroidered cushion. She dropped it at the foot of the bed and turned to Emma. "Come here." I now had some inkling of what she intended and, loathe as I was to relinquish my hold over Emma, the prospect was too tempting. Again, Emma looked to me for guidance. "Just do everything that she tells you." Emma moved closer to the bed and Marie-Élise pointed at the floor. "Lie down with your head on the cushion." Emma now understood and as she took her place she wore the hurt expression of one who had been betrayed. When she was prone Marie-Élise moved over her and, very slowly, she sank down onto her captives face. Once settled she slyly beckoned me with a single finger and I required no further bidding. I slid to the end of the bed and sat with my legs parted. She wriggled a little to encourage Emma to begin and then, with a lascivious smile, she extended her tongue and licked her top lip. As she did so I blinked in surprise. Her tongue was unnaturally long as she demonstrated by stretching it further to touch the tip of her nose. She laughed at my reaction and then leant forward and closed her mouth to my sex. In this there was a second revelation. Her mouth was incredibly warm and, though I do not consider myself as superstitious, I felt a momentary unease. I had experienced something similar only once before when Maurelle had bidden Emma to take a long draught of mulled wine before she attended to me but Marie-Élise had no such aid. She drew away from me just a little. "I think that it was God's design that I should love another woman." With that she re-engaged and my body thrilled as her tongue began, what seemed, a never ending incursion. When, finally she was fully home, I could feel the very tip seeking out nectar with the fluttering delicacy of a hawk moth. I could have remained impaled on that agreeable tongue for hours but she was breathing just a little harder now as she began to succumb to Emma's own particular skills. She tightened the grip of her thighs and began to slowly rock back and forth but she was not to know that Emma, in this regard, had a particular fear of being closed in. It amused me to test her limits from time to time and, in her efforts to please me, she would tolerate the ill-treatment but this time she was being required to put her faith in a complete stranger. Marie-Élise withdrew her tongue and began to lick my sex rhythmically as she tried to balance the giving of pleasure with the receiving of it but the motion of her hips was becoming less controlled. She was discovering the delights of a bare mound lubricated with a mix of perspiration and arousal and her natural scent vied with mine to thicken the air. Her moment of release was fast approaching and I wanted her to seek out my clitoris so that we could reach the pinnacle as one but, as she started to come, she thrust her tongue deep inside me once more. This sudden invasion triggered something. Usually, I build slowly towards the tipping point and only relinquish control at the last and, in some odd way, I felt cheated but I could not deny the pleasurable sensations which coursed through my body and I gave an exultant cry. Marie-Élise began to suck at me even as she announced her own release with a series of animal groans that vibrated deep within my sex. It took me some time to gather myself but I was returned to reality by a muted scream of distress from Emma. Marie-Élise was breathing hard, all energy spent, and, in her relaxed state, she was bearing down full weight on Emma's unfortunate face. I extended a hand and helped Marie-Élise to her feet to relieve Emma's anguish but I smiled as she was revealed to the light. Her perfectly groomed hair was matted to her head and I had never seen her so flushed. She was perspiring freely but there was evidence of a creamy rime around her mouth. The sight of her in this state fanned the embers that were still glowing between my legs and, on a whim, I squeezed Marie-Élise's hand. "Swap places with me." It was hard to say which of the two of them was more surprised but, in all likelihood, it was Emma. She knew that I could be capricious and demanding when it came to my own needs and only very rarely did I return the favour. Marie-Élise was only too happy to comply. She found a new lease of life as she took my place on the bed whilst I came to rest on Emma's mortified face. I eased back a little pressing down on her chin prompting her to open her mouth. I wanted her to concentrate on my clitoris and she immediately began to comply with intuitive understanding. I wondered, briefly, if it was still enjoyable for her following on so quickly from Marie-Élise's ill-use but it mattered not. I now surveyed Marie-Élise's sex which lay open before me. Only once before had I ever seduced a married woman but she had not borne children. I was not sure what to expect, and perhaps in some unconscious way I was looking to my own future, but she was perfectly formed. Her inner lips were flawless matched twins and her clitoris, peeking from its pink retreat, was enticingly plump. I looked up at her and smiled as I slowly licked along the whole length of her sex to savour the taste of her but then I loitered at the apex and began to trace a lazy circle around her sensitive bud. Very quickly it began to engorge and I flicked the tip of my tongue beneath it just inside her sex. The ancients, so more enlightened than us understood the pleasure of women and Maurelle had secretly shown me a translation of an ancient text which illustrated and spoke of this swelling, or orgasmós. Had Marie-Élise had more patience Emma would have demonstrated all of the skills that she had been taught but now it fell to me to open her eyes. I kept my touch so light that I could feel her quickening pulse and my nose filled with the scent of her as she began to leak. Her body tensed a little, and I think that she was surprised that she found herself so responsive, but she was fighting her own demanding instincts waiting to see what I would do. For the next few minutes I concentrated on that one spot occasionally varying the speed and pressure of my tongue whilst, all the while, Emma continued to slowly bring me to the boil. Marie-Élise began to whimper softly but I held her at the edge. I smiled to myself as she massaged her painfully swollen nipples but the time was not yet right. Occasionally, I let my tongue slip inside so that I could gauge her heat and wetness but always I came back to her clitoris. Twice I increased the tempo, allowing her to believe that the moment had arrived, only to ease back but when, finally, my own orgasm was imminent I pursed my lips around her delicate bud and began to suck softly. For all my teasing she came gently and I imagined the warmth enveloping her body as it was mine. Emma had worked her magic but she did not stop. For me the first was just a precursor as I was about to demonstrate to Marie-Élise. I licked the warm wetness from her sex but then returned to that same tantalizing rhythm. It elicited a groan that may have spoken of weariness but I knew her body was capable of more. It took much longer this time but I could be infinitely patient not least because I knew that Emma would not stop until I finally told her to do so. The candlelight was beautifully reflected from the sheen of perspiration on Marie-Élise's skin including the high points of her fulsome breasts but, tempting as they were, I kept to my task. She had reached that point where resignation had given way to a realization that it was, after all possible, and now she was beseeching me to bring her to the moment of crisis for a third time. Locked beneath me I doubt that Emma could hear, particularly as my thighs had in the past few moments pressed more closely to the sides of her head, but she understood. She began to work her tongue deep inside me and I provided the same service for Marie-Élise. Her body began to shake with the strain of gaining the summit once more, and I sensed her growing despair that she might fail, but she reckoned without her unfailing guide. I sought out her clitoris again but this time I rasped it roughly with the flat of my tongue. Within seconds she was crying out as she was wrenched by jolts of pure pleasure, surging one after another, completely unaware that I too had at last surrendered to Emma's slavish ministrations. When, much later, we had all recovered I dismissed Emma brusquely and it was Marie-Élise who was invited to share my bed for the night. Chapter Three It was the following day, and we had almost reached de Guigane's castle, when I discovered the note amongst my things. It could only have been left by Marie-Élise and it said, quite simply, "Beware Gilbert". It could only be referring to de Guigane's younger son but he was unlikely to be at court. He had recently married into the family of de Guigane's eastern neighbour and there had been rumours of border incursions from the south which would keep him occupied. I put it to the back of my mind as I had more immediate problems to deal with. I had requested no fuss on my arrival but de Guigane had, nevertheless, sent an honour guard to escort me. A small, desultory, crowd turned out to greet us but I did not feel slighted. De Guigane had already sired two children by his first wife who, unfortunately, had died in childbirth. The people knew that this second marriage was a matter of political expedience. I begged leave to rest and make ready before being introduced to my husband to be but, in reality, I was anxious to speak to Maurelle. My chambers were nicely appointed but I assumed that it was Maurelle who had arranged for the abundance of fresh flowers. I greeted her effusively and alluded to the one question which had been preying on my mind "Well?" Maurelle looked downcast. "The rumour has it that, despite his age, he still has a voracious carnal appetite." My heart dropped. I had hoped that de Guigane might be beyond such things. I was not fool enough to think that he would ignore me altogether, after all I was accounted one of the most beautiful women in the kingdom, but it seemed now that there would be more than just a token consummation. How ironic, that for all my experience, I was still officially a virgin, and given a choice I would have happily remained so. I looked up to find Maurelle laughing. "It is true that he ruts like a stag...but he keeps catamites for the purpose." "Are you sure?" "It seems to be an open secret. There is even some question as to the paternity of his two sons." That night I met de Guigane with lighter heart. There was a banquet in my honour to which all of the local nobility had been invited and there was a pleasing lack of formality. I was a child when I first met de Guigane but he had aged well. He was a kindly man who put in mind of my own father and when it came time to dance he partnered me just once insisting that I would have a merrier time with some of the younger men at court. He further endeared himself to me by announcing that the wedding would not take place until the King found leave to attend. That night I showed the note to Maurelle. She told me that there were rumours about the southern alliance but nothing substantive. She suggested that we might learn more from the Countess Bergeron whom she had already marked out as someone who might be "tired of her husband". Over the following weeks I settled in to my new life. Alphonse continued to afford me every respect and made it clear to all the nobles at court that he expected nothing less of them. The epitome was an invitation to join him at council where affairs of state were regularly discussed and legal arguments heard. As days passed Alphonse began to sound out my opinion. It was just trivial things at first but later we discussed more serious matters. I was almost childishly pleased when I overheard him telling the Abbé that I was possessed of a keen intelligence and an intuitive understanding. I was so caught up in the unexpected political status that I had assumed that, for once in my life, my physical desires took second place. Emma and Cecile still assuaged my immediate needs but I had not felt the urge to cast my net further afield. That changed when the Countess Bergeron returned to court. She, too, was an exile from the north forced to marry a politically important dotard. At dinner she looked quite radiant. She wore her blonde hair up in the latest style and, like me, she kept her use of paint and powders to a minimum. She was five or six years older than me and her large blue eyes gave her a look of flirtatious innocence but there was a shrewdness about her. She had a beautifully shaped mouth and when leading on her young male admirers she would put a finger to her lips in a charmingly coquettish manner. The following morning I asked Maurelle to extend an invitation to the Countess to attend me in my rooms after prayers. She returned with a positive reply but she was still not sure as yet as to the Countesses' proclivities. I was mildly disappointed when she arrived in company with her two maids and so I asked Maurelle and Cecile to remain with me. We chatted amiably, and inconsequentially, for some time exchanging news from the north. She gave no obvious clues until I asked about her husband's ill health when her answer was curious. "Don't you find that men can be so tiresome? "How so?" "I sometimes feel that the world would be a better place if it were a gynaecocracy." Maurelle and I had privately discussed this notion in the context of the ancient philosophers but it was a dangerous strand of thought for public discourse. I paused a moment and smiled before replying. "Perhaps a world devoid of men altogether?" "And what of procreation?" "Were it possible, I think it might be altogether gentler and more loving amongst women." The cards were dealt and it was now for her to show her hand. "I must admit to a certain distaste when I see those young boys cast as women in the court plays. I wonder, perhaps, if I should feel the same were it two women called upon to kiss?" I understood, then, that she was an ingénue, unsure of herself and looking to me to enlighten her. "Perhaps a tableau? Just for the fun of it. Your maid, what is her name?" I could not help but notice that one of her attendants was as pretty as the other was frumpish and it was towards her that I looked. The Countess responded by touching her fingers to the prettier girls russet curls. "This is Sophie. She has only been with me but a short while." I beckoned Cecile to my side and whispered in her ear. She tensed on hearing what I had to say but the prospect of life on the streets was even more threatening now that we were so far from home. She approached Sophie who stood naively before her completely innocent of all that the preceding conversation had portended. She tensed as Cecile took her face in her hands and then awkwardly brought their mouths together. She was unsure what the Countess expected of her and she struggled half-heartedly but Cecile, mindful of my admonition not to disappoint, held her firmly in place. It amused me to think that for all of the oral skills that she had developed this was almost certainly the first time she had kissed another woman so intimately For the first few seconds she held herself as if posing for a painting but, in serving my physical needs, she had long been denied the true warmth of emotional contact. This, and perhaps the thought that Sophie was similarly abased, led to an intriguing transformation. A Use of Power She dropped her hand to the small of Sophie's back and held her close whilst she gently stroked her cheek. Within seconds the younger girl had surrendered to her and they were kissing deeply. Maurelle looked quietly amused but I was trying to read the Countess's expression. She was clearly excited but there was something more. It took a moment to realize that she was envious and I had not considered the possibility that she might covet Sophie to herself. As if to confirm my surmise she turned to me. "Bid them stop." Cecile seemed reluctant to respond and I had to speak tersely. "Leave her!" Both girls looked discomfited as they adjusted themselves but, for the Countess, the fuse had now been lit. "It seems that kissing comes naturally to those of our sex but in our new world order the bringing forth of children would, perhaps, require a greater intimacy?" The import of her words was not lost on me nor, curiously, on Cecile. She was looking at Sophie with something akin to lust in her eyes. Still tiptoeing carefully I took another step. "If we were to have them undress and see what suggests itself?" The Countess's eyes widened just a little as the words were spoken but I struck whilst the iron was hot. I turned and simply said "Cecile..." She had grown used to undressing on command but, right then, she held herself just a little more proudly. She did not take her eyes off of Sophie as she stripped naked but the younger girl seemed to be looking fixedly at a point somewhere over Cecile's head such was her reluctance to admit to herself what was happening. The Countess had no such reservations. She appraised Cecile as if she was a prize mare but she seemed particularly interested in her denuded sex; so much so that I gave a polite cough and raised an eyebrow. She gathered herself and I eagerly awaited her instruction to Sophie to get undressed but she surprised me. "Mathilde, come here and take off your clothes." Mathilde had tried to blend into the shadows but she now came forward as demanded. She was a plain girl of indeterminate age with the ruddy complexion and the stocky build of someone raised on a farm but she must have evinced some talent else she would not be in the Countess's service. She kept her eyes to the floor as she quickly undressed and judging by the manner in which the Countess looked at her she had not previously seen her naked. In truth, the girl was well made and it was her poor posture that leant her a hangdog appearance. Her breasts were large with nipples more oval than round and they would be an asset to her if she were only to square her shoulders. She was pleasantly plump with good legs suggestive of many miles of walking and she was blessed with nice skin. I had already noted, with approval, that the women of the south seemed more fastidious about personal cleanliness than their cousins in the colder north. It was clear that the Countess was looking to me to take the lead and I duly obliged. "Sit down Mathilde." The girl looked to the Countess for approval which was given with the slightest nod of her head. She took her place on the chair with her legs tightly closed and her hands clasped in her lap. I bade Cecile to come forward and her face was a picture. She cast a forlorn glance towards Sophie and then looked at me silently entreating me not to humiliate her further. I turned from her and addressed myself to Mathilde. "Place your hands on the arms of the chair and open your legs." With seeming reluctance she unfolded herself but, in that instant, I caught something in her eyes. There was a spark there of keen intelligence but there was also a hint of knowing slyness. I immediately re-evaluated her deciding that she was not as guileless as she at first appeared and this seemed borne out by the way in which she now sat just a little more confidently. I carried on looking at her even as I addressed myself to Cecile. "You know what you are required to do..." For a space of seconds Cecile did not move and I turned to look at her. "Don't make me have to ask again..." She visibly shook as she made the effort to move and I could see the look of hatred in her eyes. Whether or not it was directed towards me or at Mathilde I could not say but it was of no consequence. I never ceased to be amazed that, even amongst the lower orders, there was a conception of station in life and Cecile no doubt believed that I was forcing her to degrade herself with someone of markedly inferior rank. With reluctance weighing down every step she approached the chair and slowly sank to her knees. One of her regular duties was to minister to Maurelle with a comb and a blade to keep her sex perfectly dressed and she could now see, at first hand, the benefit of so doing. Mathilde's sex had a wild covering of mousey curls that encroached upon her inner thighs and even shadowed the lower reaches of her belly. Her womanhood could barely be discerned and Cecile had to use her thumbs to gain access. The Countess touched me on the arm, without looking away from the two girls, as if to confirm that I was flesh and blood and that this was not a dream. Mathilde must have been having similar thoughts as her quivering breasts betrayed her rapid shallow breathing. Cecile revealed to our gaze a vivid pink wetness and then steeled herself for what must be done. At the first touch of her tongue Mathilde groaned and whispered under her breath. "...mon Dieu" Her eyes closed and a red blush spread across the surface of her breasts as her nipples slowly engorged. The room seemed unnaturally silent and all that could be heard was a low moaning from Mathilde with each breath that she took counterpointed by the quiet lapping of Cecile's tongue. They were opposed, with Mathilde hardly daring to believe and not wanting it to end whilst Cecile was doing all within her power to bring about a swift conclusion. Cecile began to suck and I imagined that she had her tongue at work on Mathilde's clitoris which must have had the desired effect as moisture began to drip from her chin to form a pool on the floor. Even now the maid looked toward her mistress, her innate servility forcing her to reaffirm that she really did have permission to savour this ultimate indulgence. For just a fleeting second I thought that the Countess was going to have them desist but she remained silent. Mathilde closed her eyes and surrendered to the inevitable. Her instincts were driving her to close her legs and hold Cecile in place but she did not recognize them for what they were. She did not know the rules of the game and she held herself tensed as Cecile drew the bow ever tighter before finally granting release. Mathilde bit down hard on her knuckle to stop herself from crying out as her body shook under the intensity of the assault even as she pulled Cecile to her. This was unnecessary as Cecile's own conditioning demanded that she remain in place until the final ripples had ebbed away but she released herself as soon as she was able. Her anger was seething but she sat back on her haunches awaiting any further commands I might choose to give I looked at the Countess and smiled to myself. She was trying to maintain her composure but she could not hide the look of wild excitement in her eyes. I was tempted to take her to my own bed but I sensed that this was not quite the right time. Instead, I spoke quietly at her ear. "You would, no doubt, have words with your maids in private. I will retire with Maurelle and you may attend upon us in my chambers when you are ready." Cecile, seeing that she was not included in this, looked to me expectantly for instruction. "You will stay with the Countess and you will obey her in all things as you would me." The Countess did not miss the nuance in my choice of words and nodded her head very slightly in thanks. Without another word I left through the communicating entrance that let onto my bedchamber and Maurelle secured the heavy door behind us. As soon as we were ensconced Maurelle closed the shutters at the windows which, save for a single candle, plunged the room into darkness. It was Maurelle who had explained to me, at a young age, the necessity for checking all of our accommodations for the presence of 'peep holes'. Sometimes they were designed into the fabric of the walls and, at others, they were later additions. In the castle de Guigane they were a feature of the original building and Maurelle had quickly found them out. At my request she had enlarged the aperture between my two main chambers, a not inconsiderable labour which had taken some hours. Once the work was complete she had mounted her magical tapestry to cover the now larger opening. She would not tell me how or where she had originally acquired it except to say that it came from the east. It gave the appearance of being a being a woodland scene with exotic birds not seen in these lands but, when viewed from the other side it looked blank and offered an almost unimpeded view. In order for it to work the room being viewed had to be brightly lit, it did not work nearly so well with candlelight, and the viewer need sit at an angle as though to look through the weave. Today, with my bed chamber bathed in sunlight, the view was almost perfect. It took my eyes a few seconds to accustom themselves but then I was rewarded with the sight of a clearly reluctant Sophie as she slowly removed her clothing. I noted that the fetching dusting of freckles on her face was mimicked on her modest breasts which were blessed with deliciously red nipples. Her naturally pinched waist owed nothing to corsetry and the curve of her hips drew the eye to her coy sex with its light fluff of curls. She tried to preserve her modesty with her hands but the Countess bade her to stand with her arms at her side whilst she surveyed her as if she were carved from marble. I sat with bated breath hoping that the Countess would now take it upon herself to join them in their nakedness but she was still not entirely comfortable. I watched, intrigued, as she beckoned Cecile to her and made her lie at full length along the chaise longue. Cecile looked uncertain and the more so as she was told to open her legs and put her feet flat to the floor. She was thus cruelly exposed and I was taken a little by surprise when the countess reached down to stroke the smooth expanse of her stretched sex. I had no doubt that, despite her reluctance, Cecile became sufficiently heated by our encounters that she found her own relief once she was dismissed but it had never been in my presence. That was all about to change as the Countess told Mathilde what was expected of her. In truth, little could be heard particularly if the speaker was turned away from the aperture but the expression on Mathilde's face told all. She looked down at the recumbent Cecile with an expression that seemed to mix disgust with guilty curiosity but she could not disobey. I dearly wanted to know what Cecile was thinking as the roles were now reversed and it was Mathilde who went to her knees to serve. She hated all that I made her do, and no doubt feared damnation, but how would she now feel when, for the first time, she was to be the recipient. At first Mathilde was clumsy but even this maladroit snuffling was enough to draw a series of gasps from Cecile. Emboldened by this apparent success she began to lick in a more controlled manner, trying to emulate what had been done to her, and it seemed that she was beginning to relish the task. I was so engrossed in this intriguing spectacle that I did not notice as the Countess discretely divested herself of her undergarments. This only became apparent as she stepped forward leaving them pooled on the floor. With the gracefulness of a tutored dancer she lifted the hem of her dress from the floor and then, in a single movement, she mounted the chaise. I caught the merest glimpse of her legs as she slowly settled, like a nesting bird, completely hiding Cecile's upper body from view. Her captive's distress was immediately made manifest by a sudden jerking of her legs but Mathilde secured them with her burly arms and continued with her appointed task. For a moment I almost felt sympathetic towards my poor suffering servant. The Countess was a woman of solid build and her posture suggested that she had relaxed to the extent that her whole weight was centred on her victims face. Included in that was the burden of her heavy court dress. The countess still favoured velvet here in the more temperate south and Cecile must have been plunged into total darkness. I was also prepared to wager that she had been aroused for some time and the layered folds of material would serve to deny Cecile any hint of fresher air. Perhaps it was these thoughts that brought a smile of contentment to the Countesses face but, more likely, it would be the effect of Cecile's well trained tongue For a few moments she remained quite still but then she exhorted Mathilde to greater effort presumably expecting a reciprocal response from Cecile. I assumed that this was forthcoming as she began to rock her hips and her breathing became audible. I thought it one of God's great jests that he had bestowed upon women the gift of an orgasm which, by all accounts, was more intense than any man would ever experience and yet he had rendered men all but incapable of fulfilling this expectation. As I watched the countess, with all her years of marriage, I could see that she too had been denied. She might, perhaps, know the pleasure of her own fingers but she was beginning to discover the unique sensations of being brought to a climax by another. She threw back her head in abandon and cried out unheedingly as her body visibly shook in reaction to the pleasurable contractions. Whether by design or by good fortune Cecile found release almost at the same time. Her body arched powerfully, with only the weight of the Countess pinning her down, and Mathilde struggled to hold her legs in place. At the finish they both slumped exhausted but the Countess made no move to abandon her station. Rather, she told Mathilde to take up where she had left off and, after a momentary hesitation, the maid ruefully obeyed. It took longer but I recognized the familiar signs as the Countess began the slow ascent for a second time. She was more controlled as she came to understand and tame the responses of her own body. Once she had reached a simmering heat she held out her hand to Sophie who approached hesitantly. Nothing in her sheltered existence could have prepared her for the events that had unfolded but hers was but to obey. As she drew close she froze as the Countess reached to run her fingers through the curls of her hair and there was a hint of resistance as she was pulled closer but her mistress simply tightened her grip and brought their mouths together. I envied her the experience of that first kiss. The softness and understanding of another woman made mockery of the clumsy attempts of men. Sophie's surrender seemed complete and she gasped as the Countess cupped her breast and teased her nipple with her thumb. I had formed an idea that I might take advantage of Sophie myself but something about the demeanour of the Countess suggested that such a request might not be well received. They remained locked in a kiss for a long time, the Countess all the while exploring the smoothness of Sophie's youthful body, and I suspected that for all her exertions there would be new discoveries after night fell. Finally, the Countess broke off their embrace and drew a deep breath as a second orgasm held her in its grip robbing her of remaining strength. Tears broke from her eyes with the sheer joy of it and it was some time before she held out her arms and asked both Sophie and Mathilde to help her to her feet. They assisted her with her clothing before dressing themselves and then she led the way from the room without even a backward glance at the exhausted form that was Cecile. Chapter Four In the ensuing days the Countess and was cold with me and, in truth, I was affronted. No doubt she feared that I might ensnare Sophie but, without me, she might never have begun to tread the path. When we met she was condescending, as if nothing had ever taken place, and her conversation was very formal. I was driven to imply that she should remember my station but she simply laughed intimating that there were things unknown to me to which she was privy. In the heat of the moment I challenged her and she retorted by saying that I had not even been aware of the threat to Alphonse's life. I was shocked by this and had Maurelle try to learn more. It seems that there had been an attempt but I had not been told to protect me from anguish. It was seen as a means to destabilize the southern alliance and there seemed to be some merit in the argument. The three dukedoms had formed the bulwark against our enemies ranged along the border for over twenty years. As long as control of the main passes was maintained an incursion could be held until the main body of the army could be marshalled in support from the north I was fiercely loyal to my King and country, and all that it represented, not least the respect that women were accorded. It was by no means perfect but it was paradise when compared to the prospect of an invasion from the south. When I asked what had become of the assassin I learned that there had been an arrest. My surprise was all the greater when I was told that the attempt had been made by a woman. Her weapon was poison and on arrest she had been taken for a man. Only when she was stripped of her clothing had the truth become apparent. De Guigane refused to countenance the use of torture on a woman and she was still being held within the castle. One part of me was pleased with this confirmation of Alphonse's compassionate nature but another was angry that he had not done all within his power to protect the realm. I determined to find out more and when, a few days later, Alphonse left to visit the Duc Fouché, now father to his son Gilbert, I feigned illness and claimed to be too unwell to travel. Maurelle discovered where the woman was being held and led me deep into the bowels of the castle. I had instructed her to bribe the guard to turn a blind eye but she had clearly offered a generous inducement. I expected to be taken to the cells but we walked past the sombre compartments to a well lit space beyond. I suppose I had conceived of a torture chamber as a dark, horrific, place designed to instil terror but this room was as brightly illuminated as any within the castle walls. It even had a fireplace of carved stone set with a small blaze giving warmth to an otherwise dank interior. The tools of the torturer's trade were set neatly on the walls as if he were as much a craftsman as a carpenter or a smith. Some had obvious uses, making me shiver, most had not. To one side of the room was a heavy chair fixed solidly to the floor. I noted the leather bindings for arms and ankles darkened with anguished sweat but then my attention turned to the centrepiece. I knew of the rack, and had been told that it was often sufficient by itself to elicit a confession, but nothing could have prepared me for its actuality. It was as narrow as a single cot but much longer with rope encircled cylinders at each end. I was surprised by the detail of its construction. Its heavy wooden components were beautifully jointed and the iron reinforcements each bore de Guigane's coat of arms. Our would be assassin lay stretched within its dark confines with a look of hate filled defiance on her face. A Use of Power "How long?" Maurelle understood my question and answered flatly. "An hour so far, but we can take as long as we choose." I suspected that this was not quite true; the guard would not leave his post indefinitely but then I realized that she had said it to try and unnerve our captive. I could see how she might pass as a young man. Her hair was shorn and her face had angular features which when set firm, as they were now, gave her a brooding look. A little dark powder to suggest a beard would be all that it would take. She wore only a white shift and her body, thus revealed, was lean and muscular. There was something about her that made me think she would be good with a bow perhaps suggested by her square shoulders and modest breasts. "How does this work?" I trusted that Maurelle, having arranged this particular form of restraint, had versed herself in its intricacies. "The skill is to take it slowly. The body must be allowed to adjust to the stretching each time. The pain comes from the ligaments and not the muscles. A skilled man can keep a victim on the verge of dislocation for hours and I understand that it is particularly agonizing." I did not look at the woman to see what effect Maurelle's well studied words had had upon her. Instead I moved to the head of the rack and toyed idly with the sturdy wheel which turned the drum. "Another notch perhaps?" The wheel moved smoothly but took more effort than I imagined. The ropes gave a satisfying creak and then the pall of the ratchet found its home securing the ground that I had gained. The woman did not cry out but the strained muscles in her arms and legs stood out as her body fought against the irresistible pressure. My original intention had been to interrogate her in her cell. I pride myself on knowing more about the ways of women than most, and I hoped to extract something from her, but this new turn of events engineered by Maurelle was beginning to excite me in a way that I would never have considered. "She looks strong enough..." Maurelle cast a sharp look at me as I took hold of the wheel once again. This time I had to brace myself as I gave it another fractional turn but I was rewarded by the anguished groan which escaped from between the woman's clenched teeth. With the wheel once again locked in place I was sorely tempted to experiment with some of the implements that lay to hand but I feared to cause some permanent damage and something told me that she was still prepared to resist. I decided that I would take a different approach, one that she would be least expecting. As if reading my mind Maurelle handed me a short bladed knife and I carefully eased it under the neckline of the woman's shift. The poor material, dampened by her sweat, yielded easily to the knife's keen edge as I ran it down to the hem. Two more deft cuts at the arms allowed it to be peeled from her body altogether. She braced herself, no doubt fearing the worst that the chamber had to offer, but she expressed complete surprise as I gently ran the back of my finger over her nipple. It was surprisingly dark, with almost no surround, and notwithstanding her predicament it came quickly to attention. I teased its twin to similar prominence and was amused at the shocked look on her face as I licked my finger and thumb. I pinched at the pronounced teat with a pressure just short of pain and was pleased to feel an increased swelling. She tried to twist her body to avoid the contact but only succeeded in adding to her own torment. She relaxed once more, to the extent that the ropes would allow, and reluctantly submitted to my ministrations. Over the next few minutes I caressed her nipples by turns and her struggle to escape pain transmuted into an effort to deny the ever increasing arousal that she had begun to feel. When I had her primed I began to run my hand over her exposed body. I could feel the coiled tension in her muscles which relaxed momentarily with my passing only to seize up tightly once more. Now she tried to raise herself to meet my hand but I kept my touch as light as possible flitting across her arms and legs before returning to her torso whilst still teasing her nipples. I could see from her eyes that she had no idea what to make of this. No doubt, before she set out, she had made her peace with God and girded herself for the possible consequences but the particular nature of this exquisite agony was beyond her imagination. Only when she began to pant did I bring my hand lower. The covering on her sex was dark and silky but very sparse making me wonder if she attended to herself but I doubted it. She gasped as my fingertips grazed her mound and then I cupped it in my hand. Her look told me two things. Firstly, she had had no experience with another woman and, secondly, she was fearful. I found it amusing that she had demonstrated extreme, if misguided, bravery in her thwarted attempt only to tremor at my touch. "Would you like to tell me who sent you?" In answer she closed her mouth tightly for which I was glad. Had she given me a name so soon I am sure it would have proved a lie and, besides, the game had just begun. I smiled at her and gently increased the pressure on her sex and wondered if, perhaps, she was a virgin altogether. The temptation to find out was strong but I held myself in check. Over the next few minutes I kept up a gentle palpitation doing little more than allowing the weight of my hand to rock back and forth. At one point she tested herself against the unyielding ropes and grimaced as the pain immediately reasserted itself. This played into my hands as it served to reinforce the efficacy of my soothing touch. I looked to Maurelle and, with a nod of my head, I beckoned her towards the head of the frame. She knew what was required of her but she displayed an unaccustomed reticence causing me to issue a terse command. "Another turn." The girl looked at me in horror. She had been unwillingly lulled by my hand, and taken to a place where pain could be overcome, but now I was determined to make her even more dependent upon me. Maurelle was stronger than I and the wheel turned more easily in her hands. I could almost feel the coiled tension in the forbidding framework as the rope groaned once more accompanied by a muted scream from the girl. I could see that she had reached her limits and, if Maurelle was correct, her joints would be burning with the fires of hell but I was about to offer her succour. To begin with I soothed the rigidly strung muscles of her inner thighs but then I returned my hand to her sex. This time I used my middle finger to seek out the taut juncture between the base of her sex and that darker place. I massaged gently using just the pad of my finger and I could feel her quickening pulse. I was delicately poised, representing both a promise and a threat. For her, it was an abhorrent choice but my touch was now all that stood between her and a world of pain. With calculated slowness I drew nearer to her sex and then traced a line along the length of her exposed lips. Her body tensed, causing immediate anguish, but this was counterpointed by the totally new sensation of my knowing caress. Her sex was elongated and the matched wings were delightfully pink and russet fringed. As I made a second pass I could feel them swell beneath my touch and I knew that she was mine. Candlelight played over her skin as I continued to take my time repeatedly stimulating her lips but no more than that. After some while her whole body glistened as she became ever warmer and, in spite of the pain it caused, she tried to raise her hips. Now, with each traverse, I began to linger at the apex to her sex where her clitoris remained well hidden and her eyes widened in surprise at the power of this new stimulation. She began to push against my hand with more determination as if the pain had been conquered or had, somehow, been turned inwards and allied to the relief I was granting. I found this fascinating. In fulfilling my selfish desires I know that I am guilty of bestowing a measure of discomfort upon my supplicants but it is of no consequence to me. Here, however, was the suggestion that pain could be subsumed and perhaps even desired. I made note to investigate further. A bead of sweat formed between her breasts and I used it to moisten my finger before returning my attention to her sex. I carried on as before but this time with just a little more pressure and I was rewarded as I felt an increasing oiliness beneath my touch. By degrees, I probed more firmly until my finger was sliding deeply along her cleft and her face reflected her bewilderment as her body betrayed her in ways she would never have imagined. Now, deftly, I turned my hand and she stopped breathing as I purposefully invaded her with my two fingers pressed together. She was no virgin but it was certain that she had no true concept of the act of lovemaking. Notwithstanding my talents I found her surprisingly wet, so much so that the squelch of moisture was audible within the room. She looked quite mortified and so I began to gently thrust at her to increase her embarrassment. Within moments her body gave all the signs of approaching release, possibly for the first time in her life, and I slowed my movements to a stop. She looked at me with an unalloyed craving in her eyes. She now sought not just relief from pain but the fulfilment of an, elusive, fundamental urge. When her breathing had settled I resumed where I had left off and proceeded to bring her to the brink once again only to cruelly deny her. By the time I had repeated the process four times she had the expression of one on the edge of madness. Her eyes were wide and her body flexed as she traded pain for the possibility of an unfathomable outcome. It was time for the final refinement. I parted her sex to reveal the succulent interior and, with a single finger, I began to tease her clitoris from its lair. She began to pant as she incredulously realized that an even more intense experience was within my gift but there was a price. I brought my face close to hers and the touch of my finger was so light that we were joined by no more than the dew of her arousal. She turned her eyes towards me and desperately whispered "please...". I judged the moment and drew her to the very edge before easing away whilst, at the same time, I spoke at her ear. "Who sent you?" I could see the inner battle rage, and tears shone on her cheeks, but she knew that she was lost. As she whispered the name I triggered her release and watched as her stretched body tried to accommodate both the agony of restraint and waves of pleasure the like of which she had never known. Chapter Five That evening Maurelle and I talked long into the night trying to make sense of what we now knew. Why did De Guigane's youngest son want him dead? We could not fathom what he had to gain. Should he die the eldest son, Donald, would return from court to assume the title. The next day I sought out the countess and asked her what she knew of the two brothers. She described Donald as a loyal, personable, man but of limited intellect. His brother, by contrast , was thought a schemer. He presented a cold demeanour to all who met him but he remained his father's favourite. Maurelle, for her part, went out into the market. Many of the stallholders were recently returned from the annual fair at castle Fouché and she hoped to pick up some gossip. What she learned only added to the intrigue. Rumour had it that woodsmen were being paid to work on the borderlands and the perceived wisdom was that the defences there were being strengthened. Maurelle remained unconvinced. She obtained a map of the borderlands and showed me where castle Fouché stood dominating the narrow plain with hills forming a natural barrier to either side. We were ignorant militarily but neither of us could see where new defences might be usefully thrown up. It was later that night, as I fought for sleep, that I was struck by an idea. I hastily summoned a slightly ill-tempered Maurelle from her bed and bade her to produce the map once again. I asked myself what purpose might be served in employing woodsmen if Gilbert's intention was to harm the kingdom rather than protect it. Our whole defence was based on the idea that the south could be held until the armies of the north rallied. I enjoyed a moment of superiority as Maurelle failed to see what had occurred to me and then I put a finger on the map pointing to the river. In the spring it was navigable from the border all the way to the capital. "You think they are felling trees for boats?" "Why not? They could be crudely built as they would be needed for but one journey." "But the river turns and narrows. It passes less than a league from here." "And my husband to be would no doubt be alert to it...but Donald?...in the confusion of an accession?" "You think that Gilbert conspires with our enemies?" "I only know a little of him but it makes sense. He's unlikely to inherit and his ambition is not served by a political marriage to the Fouché family." The more we talked the more sense it seemed to make.but we had no way of proving any of it and certainly no way to convince anyone. We were no further forward in our thinking when, two days later, a general commotion ensued. My husband to be had returned unexpectedly in company of his son and daughter. Maurelle surmised that Gilbert was anxious to ascertain the fate of his assassin but it gave me an unforeseen opportunity to judge him at first hand. Gilbert and his wife made a striking couple and I was given some inkling of how handsome Alphonse must have been in his prime. His son was lean and well muscled with dark eyes dominating his attractive face. I knew his wife, Isabel, to be a few years older but it did not appear so. She was well made and her green eyes sparkled with a youthful vitality. She was very aware of her own charms and dressed to enhance them. At dinner Gilbert was polite but aloof and paid me no more attention than protocol demanded. Isabel, by contrast, was garrulous and presumably saw in me a kindred spirit. I listened to her patiently but, all the while, I was watching Gilbert noting his self assurance and the way his father doted on him. I feared that there was no way that Alphonse could be turned against him. Later that evening I conferred with Maurelle. I was minded to find an excuse to go north and try and find someone at court to hear what I had to say but she dashed my hopes. She concluded that whatever was schemed must be imminent. The failed assassination attempt attested that and she believed that Gilbert's presence in his father's home had a darker purpose. It was then than she outlined an audacious plan. I listened in stunned silence. It was foolhardy at best and dangerous beyond measure but Maurelle spoke with a passion that made it seem possible. I wanted pause to consider but she insisted that it had to be done now. Gilbert was still deeply immersed in conversation with his father and it gave me the excuse that I needed. I had not felt afraid for such a long time that it took a moment to recognize the fear in myself as I went to Isabel's room. She was already attired for bed and looked surprised to see me but then smiled in welcome. I spoke quickly before I had a change of heart. "Our men folk seemed determined to ignore us and I, for one, feel aggrieved. Would you pass the time with me? I have a new dress from the east and would value your opinion." She looked momentarily confused but her obvious love of fine clothes, and a sense of mischief, won out. She touched me on the hand. "Wait for me. I will call my maid." I smiled at her. "We have no need of maids for are we not like sisters?" With that I took her by the hand and drew her out into the corridor. I feared that my boldness had frightened her as she set her eyes warily about her but I whispered reassurance. "My apartments are just here..." Our rooms were near opposite and she was palpably relieved as I ushered her inside. I went to my wardrobes and sought out the silk dress that Maurelle had obtained from a ship's captain and gifted to me on my eighteenth birthday. With its whorls of exotic flowers and animals intricately woven it could not be worn at court but it afforded me a private pleasure beyond measure. When Isabel's eyes fell upon it I could see that she too was enraptured. "It is beautiful, but how is it worn?" As if on a whim I held it out to her. "I would see it on you." She looked excited but at the same time uneasy. "I have no underclothes..." "No matter, I will turn my back." I theatrically turned on my heel and smiled as I sensed her hesitate but then I heard the rustle of her embroidered night shift. A moment later she gave a delighted squeal and I turned to find her admiring herself. "It's so soft...but so daring" The silk flowed with the movements of her body delineating the beautiful curves of her breasts and hips as well as the swell of her derrière. She looked at me conspiratorially. "To wear anything beneath it would be a sacrilege..." "Alas, I can only wear it for my own delight...but wait, I have another you must try." I handed her another gown and turned around once again. As she changed she giggled girlishly. "I need your help with this." In truth the fastening was simple but to one used to being dressed by a servant it might prove awkward. I moved to assist her closing the buttons at the front not without difficulty as she was more fully endowed than me. The gown lifted up her milky breasts and as I completed my task I brushed my finger across the taut surface. "Your skin is so beautifully smooth. You must let me have your secret." Her initial shock passed quickly replaced by a glow of pride induced by my flattery. "Now you must turn your back." She turned away but found herself looking at the full length mirror I had brought with me from the North. It was a present from the King himself and I had never seen its like. It was a perfect reflecting surface as she could now attest. I stripped naked, in seeming innocence, confident that she would take advantage of the offered view. Maintaining the pretence I slowly slipped into the silk gown she had just removed and made a play of smoothing it down over my body. "You may look now..." As she turned to face me I anxiously awaited her reaction. If she did not immediately make her excuses and leave then I knew there was a chance. She looked unsure but my apparent flaunting of all the rules of social intercourse had her intrigued. Over the course of an hour she tried on several gowns including my trousseaux. With each change of clothing she became more at ease and undressed in front of me without thought. For my part I kept an anxious eye on the tapestry on the wall and when, finally, I saw the faint glow of a candle behind it I could not suppress a gasp. Fortunately, Isabel thought I had reacted to her as she bent naked to retrieve her own discarded clothes. She smiled playfully touched her own derrière. "My husband finds it fetching..." If all had gone to plan her husband would be afforded a view that was far from fetching. Maurelle had remained stationed in the corridor knowing that, at some point, Gilbert would demand to know what had become of his wife. Her daring plan was to lead him to my communicating chamber and then incapacitate him. Her woman's body belied her strength but she was physically no match for Gilbert. She intended to render him insensible with the ring she had given me for protection as a young woman. Its face could be lifted to reveal a pin which was impregnated with the venom of a snake not native to our shores. A Use of Power The dose was not enough to kill but, as she had demonstrated on a large sow, it caused an almost instant paralysis of the muscles. The candle was the signal that she had been successful and that Gilbert was now an unwilling spectator to all that was taking place. I was almost frozen with terror at the enormity of what we were undertaking but Maurelle had done her part and there was no going back. Before Isabel could begin dressing I crossed the divide and placed my hand at the small of her back. "Your curves are beautiful enough to have inspired the sculptures of the ancients; if there were ever anyone whose nakedness was deserving of being preserved for all time then surely it is you." She was clearly shocked at my forwardness but, at the same time, she held herself just a little more aloof. I let my hand drop just a few inches and continued. "How must it be to know that, years from now, men, and women, might still marvel at your beauty and perhaps feel it beneath their hands with a quickening of their own desires." As I spoke my hand traced the curve of her derrière whilst I allowed the implication of my mention of both sexes to take seed. She did not move away but she looked at me uncertainly trying to decide, even now, if all was spoken in innocence. She whispered almost inaudibly. "...it might be the spark of a woman's desires?" As she spoke an idea sprang unbidden to my mind. I moved to face her, our bodies scant inches apart. "I hear tell that women would creep out into the night. They would seek out the statues of the most beautiful of their sex in the hope that one single stolen kiss would grant them fertility. She was breathing just a little more shallowly as she answered. "I have never heard of such a thing." I smiled and leaned into her. "How much more potent then the real thing?" Before she could react I brought our lips together and kissed her softly. She looked startled but she did not shy away. She stood quite still as I slid my tongue into her mouth and then her eyes widened as I began a knowing exploration. For a moment she remained frozen but then, slowly, her tongue found mine and I knew that she had never been kissed quite like this before. With men a kiss is an incursion, a show of possession that hints at the cruder assault that they would visit upon you. Now, I was inviting her to enjoy, as an equal, the slow sensual experience that it could truly be. She began to take the lead as she sought out the warmth and sweetness of my mouth and I could sense her surprise as I demonstrated a dexterity borne of years of experience. Almost imperceptibly I drew her to me finding a genuine pleasure in allowing my hands to slide over the contours of her body and was rewarded when I felt the first tentative touch as she encircled my waist. Her growing excitement gave cause for her to break our kiss and draw breath but I could see that she was anxious to resume. Her eyes were bright as she whispered. "You will most certainly be blessed with child." "Perhaps, but we have not quite worked the trick; for it was not the custom of the women to place a kiss upon the lips..." She looked at me in puzzlement but I was already sinking to my knees. As I did so my hands slid down her back to the roundness of her derrière allowing her no escape. I trailed kisses down her body and the evidence of my nose told me that my aim was all but achieved. Her sex was dressed with a silky growth of silver blonde which had already darkened with moisture. I brushed my face against her causing her to take a sharp intake of breath but, at the same time, I distantly heard a muted howl of frustration. There was no doubt from whence it had emanated but it must have taken a superhuman effort. Maurelle assured me that the venom acted on the muscles of the throat rendering the victim mute but as quickly as it started it was cut off and I guessed that she had resorted to a more orthodox gag. Isabel must have heard but, if she did so, she paid it no heed. She was unnaturally still, not wanting to break the spell, finally comprehending what I was about to do. I made her wait as I breathed in the rich scent of her arousal and I was excited to see that a bead of moisture had leaked to run down the inside of her thigh. I was sorely tempted to lick it from her skin but, for the moment at least, I had to maintain the illusion that I had conjured. With mock reverence I used my thumbs to reveal her sex and I placed a kiss at the very heart. As I did so her whole body shuddered but I held her close and looked up at her. Her eyes met mine, and I could see her inner conflict, but she had reached that point where her curiosity would not be denied. I smiled at her and ran the tip of my tongue over my lips. "A taste of heaven..." For a second or two she looked quite stunned. The idea that someone would do such a thing, and find pleasure in it, was beyond her realm of experience and it confirmed for me that she was another locked in the unimaginative confines of a masculine dominated marital bed. I kept my eyes locked on hers as I leaned in and languorously licked from the base of her sex to the very top where I lingered for a heartbeat to give some hint of what might be This time I feared that her legs might betray her. I rose and held her tightly until the feverish hammering of her heart settled a little. When I was sure of her I began to slip out of my robe and was pleased as she helped with the fastening. Now we were both naked I held her again allowing her to experience the unique pleasure bestowed when the bodies of two beautiful women meld into a single conjoining of warmth and softness Her head nuzzled into my neck as I entwined my fingers in the waves of her long blonde hair raising a subtle scent of rosewater. We remained like that for a long time and, in truth, I had probably done enough to achieve my aim but now I was caught up in the excitement of introducing another of my sex to the true pleasures of the flesh. I eased her backwards until she came to rest on an upholstered seat that I had set for the purpose. She was reluctant to break our embrace but I stroked her face soothingly and went to my knees before her. She sat uncertainly with her legs closed and for a few moments I did nothing more than hug myself to her knees but the slight movements of my head her drew my hair across her thighs in a gentle caress. At one point I was aware that she had brought her hand to her breast to try and ease the aching firmness of her nipple but I kept my gaze averted not wanting to alarm her in any way and knowing that she sat in full view of her husband. After a while I felt the tension in her legs relax and my hair now cascaded between them. She gave a muted groan and I was immediately enveloped in the heavy musk engendered by her increasing excitement. I began to stroke her calves, making occasional forays up to her inner thighs, and inch by inch her legs slowly began to part finally allowing me to interpose myself. Her secret grotto now lay open to me and for a few seconds I simply stared. "You are so beautiful..." The compliment was heartfelt. The lips of her sex were heavy but they were bedewed with tiny specks of moisture and I could see that the seat of the chair was already sodden. Her clitoris was fully revealed and stood out a livid red against a dusky background. As I watched a thin runnel oozed from her and this time I could not resist. I crouched low and caught it up with my tongue before the seat could be further soiled. Close in, I could feel the incredible heat of her and now, fired by the intense taste teasing my tongue, I sated my own desire. I slowly lapped at her lips all the while threatening a deeper invasion but, for now, it was enough to have her pleading for more. Her eyes were closed and her hands were tightly gripping the chair's low arms as she moaned softly begging me not to stop. I continued for a while longer and then I gently took hold of her leg. She looked down at me, initially shocked when she understood what I intended, but then she cooperated as I rested each of her limbs over the arms of the chair. Thus stretched I could see the glistening of moisture on her thighs extending all the way to that nether region. I began to lick it from her skin enjoying her special taste underscored with the slight tang of salt. I wanted her to signal the final surrender and so I continued to preen her for some time until she could take no more and she pulled me to her with both hands joined behind my head. Her sex was a molten mire and she cried out as I speared her with my tongue. I thought, for a moment, that this had been enough in itself but she took pause and then I felt her muscles adapting themselves to the firm pliability that impaled her. I quickly found her rhythm and adapted to it pushing inwards each time she relaxed allowing her, in turn, to bear down on me. I knew full well the pleasure this elicited but it was revealed to her for the first time and I could sense her anxiety that it might end too soon matched with an unconscious desire to know how much further it could go. She could, and would, reach a crescendo from this alone but I wanted it to be truly amazing not just for her sake but for that of her emasculated onlooker. She gave an anguished whimper as I withdrew but then began to pant almost uncontrollably as I started to flick my tongue over and around her clitoris. Some women are simply more sexually alive than others and I could tell Isabel, given the chance to flourish, could be one such. I could feel her body attuning to the touch of my tongue, every fibre making ready for that one final joyful release. She began to scream but I had no fear of being overheard other than by those for whom it was intended. It was tempting to ease off and to build again but her whole body was shaking, crying out for it knew not what. I took the firm bud between my lips and sucked gently whilst I increased the rapidity of my tongue. Her own instincts took over and she drove herself upward to hold at the zenith for one blissful second before allowing the towering waves of ecstasy to crash over her. Her orgasm was beautifully protracted and I laughed as my face was with drizzled with gushing moisture. It took some time for her to recover and I remained between her legs intermittently kissing her thighs and licking up the sweet residue. Finally, I arose from my stiffening knees and helped her to unhook her legs. She got to her feet unsteadily but then took me by surprise as she held me in her arms. Before I knew it she was kissing me passionately tasting herself on my lips and in my mouth. Slowly, she turned me towards the chair and then encouraged me to sit. With a playful smile on her face she took each of my legs in turn and had me place them over the arms in the same way that I had posed her. This was completely unexpected, and unplanned for, but I could not refuse. The seat beneath me was still warm and wet and I felt wickedly wanton. She wasted no time. She dropped quickly to her knees and applied herself ravenously to my sex. I could feel her sucking at me even as her tongue reached deep inside. Within seconds she was swallowing greedily as if feasting on ambrosia. I wanted to tell her to be more gentle, to explain my particular desires, but I was caught up in the same gale of lust that was fuelling her. For the first time in a long while I relinquished control altogether and simply allowed my body to respond as it would. She was almost growling and it vibrated to my inner core driving me on; I had not appreciated just how aroused I had become and my orgasm was building quickly. For a moment my real purpose was forgotten but the sudden remembering of it, the delightful cruelty of knowing that he was helplessly watching, made me groan with excitement. It then took little more to set me ablaze. It was a short but incredibly intense finale as my body tensed almost painfully and then soothing ripples of pleasure reached out to all my extremities. Only when it was finally over did Isabel relinquish possession of my sex but as she drew away I felt myself leaking copiously. She smiled up at me and, as I had done, she began to lap this seepage from my skin. This was enough to stoke up the embers of arousal which were still smouldering and, on impulse, I decided to test how truly she was in thrall to me. I settled more deeply into the chair raising my hips just enough that she could now see the full splendour of my derrière. The mere thought was sinfully stimulating and a bead of moisture teased its way downwards towards that forbidden place. For a few seconds she kept her attentions to the smooth mound of my sex but then, hesitantly, she began a more daring exploration. My skin was now scented with her essence as well as mine and she gently licked the newly revealed expanse of flesh. She took her time, still nervous of the unspoken desires that were threatening to overwhelm any last semblance of decorum, but I could see that she was being drawn into heart of darkness For my part, I was expectantly tensed. I could feel my tight rosette visibly flexing, beckoning to her. Still she hesitated and so I brought my fingers to my sex and undammed a fresh flow to inevitably follow its natural course. With a keening of desire she caught up the flow and I almost swooned as I felt her tongue along the full length of my furrow. She was aware of my reaction, and sensed the reason for it. I know that women are cruelly used but she was reaching an understanding that, without men, there is a more beautiful experience in which all things are possible. She applied herself once more but now she began to tease. Her tongue danced around the very place for long moments until I began to fidget in expectation at which point he laughed quietly and then took mercy. I gave a sigh of gratification as I felt the very tip of her tongue at the opening itself relaxing muscles that had been under strain for too long. I had no expectations beyond this; she had, after all, only just been introduced to this new world of possibilities but she continued to surprise. She began to test her strength against my body's natural resistance and it was a few seconds before I noted her intent and forced myself to relax. As I did so she applied an undeniable pressure and the breath rushed from my lungs as I felt her lodged deep within. I remained totally still but my heart was pounding as she flexed her tongue. It was a wonderful sensation of being filled combined with a tingling that radiated from deep within my sex. I closed my eyes as she tried to press further home and my muscles worked to draw her in. I did not want it to end and she tried valiantly to please me but the strain finally became too great and she reluctantly withdrew. It was time to further our plan but when I looked down at her there was a look of feral excitement in her eyes. Caught up in the madness I rose from the chair and led her to my bed where I immediately introduced her to the delights of soixante-neuf. Chapter Five We must have dozed because I was awakened from between her legs by a quiet but insistent knocking. I threw the covers over Isabel as I grabbed for a robe and opened the door to a stern looking Maurelle. "We don't have much time." The realities of the situation rushed in at me with a renewed sense of dread. I told Isabel that her husband was still not abed and that she needed to clean herself and leave as soon as possible. She pouted at me coquettishly as she washed herself down and I felt a strong pang of guilt for the way in which I was using her. When I had finally ushered her from the room, with empty promises of a further liaison, I cleaned and dressed myself and returned to the great hall in company with Maurelle. Alphonse, as was his custom, was seated with his senior minister poring over the petitions that were to be heard the following day. He was plagued with pains in his joints and sleep did not come easily to him. Instead, he would work into the night and would simply doze during the day to make up for it. He was surprised, but clearly happy to see me. He asked me to wait a moment whilst he finished what he was reading and I quickly conferred with Maurelle. "How long?" "He's a strong man. He was already recovering when I left him. No more than ten minutes." As she said it a terrifying thought entered my head. "What if he goes to her first! What will he do to her!" "The lady Isabel will be alright. I told him that we were on the way to his father to tell him everything. He will come here." I wished I felt her assurance. I was physically shaking and Alphonse came and anxiously took my hand. "Are you unwell? "No, I am fine, but I have something I must tell you." He bade me take a seat and I, in turn, beckoned Maurelle to relate the gossip she had picked up from the market. He listened carefully and paused to consider. We, for our part, did not apprise him of our suspicions in the hope his thoughts might travel the same path as ours had. I could see, from his expression, that he had concluded that there must be an innocent explanation. He thanked Maurelle and was just patting my hand comfortingly when the doors crashed open and Gilbert strode into the room. His eyes were crazed and, on seeing me, there issued forth from his throat a blood curdling roar. In an instant his sword was drawn and in a dozen strides he was halfway across the room. Alphonse's bodyguards were slow to react, confused to see Gilbert acting in such a manner, by the time they realized that there was real danger he was already past them. In that instant I thought I would die. My brain was telling me to run but my body was not mine to command. I stood rooted awaiting the blow but Maurelle was alert. She tumbled a chair in front of the onrushing madman but he simply kicked it aside. For a heartbeat his eyes blazed at her but then he looked directly at me. "You die this night!" As he said it the first bodyguard reached him and pulled him back by the shoulder. The man had not drawn his sword but Gilberts battlefield instincts took over. He turned and ran the man through bringing his blade up under his cuirass. The remaining three drew swords and stood off but Gilbert's rage was unholy. He charged at them even as Alphonse bellowed. "Don't kill him!" The men evaded his impotent charge and then surrounded him. As he made a renewed assault on the one immediately to his fore the others dashed in and pinioned his arms. He was brought before his father, his eyes bloodshot and his beard flecked with spittle. "What is the meaning of this!" Gilbert looked at me with burning hatred. "This...witch...has lain with my wife!" Alphonse looked stunned and confused. He looked at me and I realized for the first time that what he felt for me was something more than affection. It was the look of an adoring father for a beloved daughter. "Is it true?" "I would be friends with Isabel, we have much in common, I invited her to my room and Maurelle witnessed all that transpired." Compared to the perceived madness of his son I sounded entirely rational and Alphonse had little choice. Gilbert raged and swore but he was consigned to a cell to cool his heels. Alphonse was clearly shaken but I struck whilst the iron was hot. I suggested that Gilbert was not presently of sound mind and it might perhaps do no harm to check out the rumours. He perceived the wisdom of this and, also being mindful of the assassination attempt, two men were sent forth. Alphonse asked if I wished to return north for the time being but I assured him that I felt safe whilst Gilbert was restrained.