MASTERING THE MARQUESS
Written
by Lavinia Kent
by Lavinia Kent
Published
by Loveswept
by Loveswept
July
29, 2014
29, 2014
ISBN:
978-0-553-39416-0
978-0-553-39416-0
One night of fierce passion and unbound pleasure
leaves two strangers craving much more in Lavinia Kent’s sumptuous novel of
sensual discovery.
leaves two strangers craving much more in Lavinia Kent’s sumptuous novel of
sensual discovery.
The time has come for the widow Louisa, Lady
Brookingston, to move on, but she refuses to remarry at the cost of shaming her
late husband’s memory. Their six years together were wedded bliss—even if a war
injury prevented him from fulfilling his marital duties. Only one woman can
help Louisa: Madame Rouge, the discreet proprietress of a club where London’s
elite explore their wildest fantasies.
Brookingston, to move on, but she refuses to remarry at the cost of shaming her
late husband’s memory. Their six years together were wedded bliss—even if a war
injury prevented him from fulfilling his marital duties. Only one woman can
help Louisa: Madame Rouge, the discreet proprietress of a club where London’s
elite explore their wildest fantasies.
Geoffrey, the Marquess of Swanston, has no
intention of agreeing to deflower an anonymous virgin. But when Madame Rouge
tempts him with the absolute power he’ll have over a woman who knows nothing of
carnal delights, he’s intrigued. Control is the one thing he cannot resist—and
control is what he loses during his night with the blindfolded beauty. He longs
to take her further, to leave his mark upon her perfect behind, but the mystery
woman refuses to see him again. Instead Geoffrey reluctantly agrees to take a
wife, the widow of his dear friend, Lord Brookingston—fating them both to a
wicked surprise.
intention of agreeing to deflower an anonymous virgin. But when Madame Rouge
tempts him with the absolute power he’ll have over a woman who knows nothing of
carnal delights, he’s intrigued. Control is the one thing he cannot resist—and
control is what he loses during his night with the blindfolded beauty. He longs
to take her further, to leave his mark upon her perfect behind, but the mystery
woman refuses to see him again. Instead Geoffrey reluctantly agrees to take a
wife, the widow of his dear friend, Lord Brookingston—fating them both to a
wicked surprise.
Mastering the Marquess is
an erotic romance intended for mature audiences.
an erotic romance intended for mature audiences.
EXCERPT 4
(Chapter Three)
The handle on the door turned and he stepped in.
She had only the impression of largeness and gray silk before she
hurriedly shut her eyes.
hurriedly shut her eyes.
She wasn’t ready. Heat rose on her face. She would tell him it was a
mistake, tell him she’d made a mistake.
mistake, tell him she’d made a mistake.
“Is everything to your liking?” His voice filled the room, vibrating
about her, husky and deep, a river cascading over rocks.
about her, husky and deep, a river cascading over rocks.
She opened one eye and saw his mask, white cotton and plaster
covering his whole face, dark, unruly curls rising above it. She remembered
what Madame had said, how she’d worked to ensure Louisa both privacy and
comfort. “Can you see anything?”
covering his whole face, dark, unruly curls rising above it. She remembered
what Madame had said, how she’d worked to ensure Louisa both privacy and
comfort. “Can you see anything?”
“Not a thing. There is a halo of light at the periphery of my
vision, but that is all.”
vision, but that is all.”
“Oh.” He couldn’t see her. See this silly, transparent gown. See the
deep rose darkening her cheeks.
deep rose darkening her cheeks.
“I’ll ask again: Do you like what you see? Is everything to your
liking?”
liking?”
Louisa opened her other eye—and stared. He couldn’t see her. He
didn’t know if she was staring at him or at the ceiling. She could look as much
as she wanted and nobody would ever know.
didn’t know if she was staring at him or at the ceiling. She could look as much
as she wanted and nobody would ever know.
It was freeing in a way she had never imagined.
He was large. Well, not so much large as tall. She’d never
considered herself short, but next to him she felt small, fragile. And she was
in her bare feet. Not even an inch of heel to help.
considered herself short, but next to him she felt small, fragile. And she was
in her bare feet. Not even an inch of heel to help.
She stepped forward and looked at his feet. They weren’t bare, but
shod in black velvet slippers. Very large—almost huge—black velvet slippers. They didn’t add much height, but still
. . .
shod in black velvet slippers. Very large—almost huge—black velvet slippers. They didn’t add much height, but still
. . .
“Take off your shoes?” she said.
“What?” Had he growled?
“Would you please take off your slippers?”
“Why?”
What was so difficult about this? A minute ago she’d felt free, and
now suddenly she felt she was doing something wrong. Perhaps men didn’t take
off their shoes when they . . . She’d always thought they did, but perhaps
she’d been wrong. She’d never really thought about it. She was sure that they
didn’t need to take off their shoes to use their—their penises. She should have
asked Madame more questions. Madame was correct: She did need more experience
if she was ever to pretend to having had a normal marriage. “I am sorry, you
don’t have to if you don’t want to, if you don’t normally . . . I really don’t
know . . . I just thought . . .
You’re just so tall . . . I thought you’d be less frightening without
your slippers. I don’t know why. I guess feet seemed calming.”
now suddenly she felt she was doing something wrong. Perhaps men didn’t take
off their shoes when they . . . She’d always thought they did, but perhaps
she’d been wrong. She’d never really thought about it. She was sure that they
didn’t need to take off their shoes to use their—their penises. She should have
asked Madame more questions. Madame was correct: She did need more experience
if she was ever to pretend to having had a normal marriage. “I am sorry, you
don’t have to if you don’t want to, if you don’t normally . . . I really don’t
know . . . I just thought . . .
You’re just so tall . . . I thought you’d be less frightening without
your slippers. I don’t know why. I guess feet seemed calming.”
“Feet seem calming?” His growl turned to a chuckle.
“Are you going to question everything I say?” This was not going at
all the way she had planned—in fact, she could never have imagined its going
like this. She turned and paced away, trying to decide what to do next.
all the way she had planned—in fact, she could never have imagined its going
like this. She turned and paced away, trying to decide what to do next.
“Don’t go,” he said.
“I thought you said you couldn’t see.” She turned back, suddenly
frightened.
frightened.
“I can’t, but I can hear.”
Had she made noise? She supposed even with bare feet there’d be some
soft treading upon the carpet. “Oh.” She stood there not knowing what to do
next. She’d hardly glanced at him beyond his slippers.
soft treading upon the carpet. “Oh.” She stood there not knowing what to do
next. She’d hardly glanced at him beyond his slippers.
She let her gaze slide up. Black trousers. Silk. Very loose, not at
all the normal fit. And a robe—gray, some type of brocade. Very thick and soft.
That was what she’d seen when he’d first come in.
all the normal fit. And a robe—gray, some type of brocade. Very thick and soft.
That was what she’d seen when he’d first come in.
“Do you still wish me to remove my slippers? Will it make you feel
more at ease? Even without seeing I can feel how stiff you are.”
more at ease? Even without seeing I can feel how stiff you are.”
He could? “Yes, please, but only if you customarily do. I want
everything to be normal.”
everything to be normal.”
“Normal. I told Ruby I wasn’t the man for this,”
he said in a whisper surely not meant for her ears. And then much louder, “I
can assure you that I do remove my shoes, although on occasion I enjoy keeping
on my boots.”
he said in a whisper surely not meant for her ears. And then much louder, “I
can assure you that I do remove my shoes, although on occasion I enjoy keeping
on my boots.”
She swallowed and hoped he couldn’t hear. He kept on his boots?
Shoes she could almost understand, but boots? Why would a man wear boots when
he . . .
Shoes she could almost understand, but boots? Why would a man wear boots when
he . . .
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About Lavinia Kent
Lavinia Kent is a former two-term
president of the Washington Romance Writers and a four-time Romance Writers of
America Golden Heart nominee. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family
and an ever-changing menagerie of pets.
president of the Washington Romance Writers and a four-time Romance Writers of
America Golden Heart nominee. She lives in Washington, D.C., with her family
and an ever-changing menagerie of pets.
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with Lavinia
with Lavinia
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with Loveswept
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MASTERING
THE MARQUESS GIVEAWAY
THE MARQUESS GIVEAWAY
Nadene's addiction to reading began at an early age, when a family friend gifted her a copy of Wuthering Heights. From that moment she was never without a book.She will read anything as long the material is compelling enough to hold her attention. She gained many experiences through the pages of the books she had the opportunity to read.She created this blog to share her love of books with like minded individuals hopes that in sharing reviews of the books read visitors to the blog will discover their next addictive read. When not reading, Nadene enjoys cooking, listening to music and watching television.
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