The new girl will arrive on Friday," Cathryn said over her shoulder while she poured two generous glasses of red wine. "Until now she has only worked in York, but she is promising to say the least. Practically a virgin, though."
Lovelace, sprawled out on the sofa, laughed. "A virgin in this house? Well, that would be a novelty."
Cathryn looked as if she wanted to say something, but when Lovelace narrowed his eyes, she changed her mind.
"There are a few things she needs to learn, but I think you will like her. I will see to it that she is ready for you Friday evening."
Lovelace did not look at her, but watched his own long fingers play with the frilly lace on his cuffs. "I may have other obligations," he said finally.
Cathryn sighed and sat down close to him on the sofa, arranging her skirts around her. "I know you do not want to speak about it, but we are old friends, so I will anyway. You should stop thinking about that silly girl. The way she behaved would have driven any man insane."
Lovelace’s green eyes flashed, but his voice was cool, "I am not thinking about her, not at all."
"Good, then drink your wine and tell me who you want to spent the night with; Fran or Mary, or perhaps both?"
Finishing his glass of wine, Lovelace still refused to look at her, but his hand slipped underneath the hem of her petticoat and made its way up until it rested on the soft inside of her thigh. "Not tonight, Cath."
Resting her head on his shoulder, she looked up at him, her painted lips pursed into an attractive pout. "You could stay with me then, just for old times' sake?"
Lovelace grinned and then bit down on the fleshy part of her shoulder. "Tempting, very tempting, but I have a few letters to write." The grin grew wider when he looked at her face. "I know, awfully boring, my dear, but it needs to be done."
He rose from the sofa, gallantly took her hand and pressed a feather light kiss on it, studiously ignoring the accusing blue eyes. "I bid you good night, my dear."
Cath did not reply, just gave the maid a few orders and Lovelace waited on the front porch, until Roberts, his driver, came running from the kitchen to fetch the carriage.
Head leaning against the back seat, Lovelace looked out of the window into the poorly lit streets. Here, in this part of the town, there were just a few lanterns and in some of the more narrow streets and alleys, none at all. Despite his background Lovelace actually preferred surroundings like this, just as he preferred to visit brothels and establishments of the sort that would disgust his aristocratic father and would make his mother faint.
Lovelace grimaced when he thought of Jack Belford, his friend, who had often accompanied him on his escapades. Of course, Jack was no longer his friend, had nearly killed Lovelace and lived in another part of the country now. He missed Jack and regretted the turn of events, but he could hardly regret having survived Jack's ferocious attack.
There had been quite some gossip and some people had behaved rather coolly towards him for a while, but Lovelace had an old name and enough money to make most people forget about the past.
Shaken from his thoughts, Lovelace sat up straight, when Roberts suddenly shouted a warning and made the horses come to a stop. Lovelace opened the window and leaned out. "What are you doing, you fool? Are you trying to get us killed?"
Roberts turned to look at him, his face pale in the faint light of a nearby lantern. "Apologies Milord, but there is something big lying on the street and I was afraid the horses would injure themselves.
"Well, get it out of the way, man, and quickly." Lovelace startled when suddenly a small, dirty face popped up in front of him, belonging to a boy, perhaps nine or ten years old. In the half dark Lovelace could only just see bright round eyes underneath an unruly mop of hair.
"Buy nice jewellery, Sir?" the boy asked, his voice shrill and high pitched like a girl's. A small hand, its nails dirty and broken held up some sort of chain with a pendant on it.
Lovelace leaned out to have a better look and started to laugh when he saw the rough material and the clumsily made hole in it. Then suddenly the clouded sky broke open and a bright moon appeared, throwing its glow over the stone and the laughter died in his throat. In the moonlight the stone seemed to come alive, small brilliant specks sparkling in the dull brown material.
Lovelace’s common sense told him it was an illusion caused by the light; it just had to be, but even though it was silly, he wanted it. He took a coin from the little pocket of his coat and handed it to the boy. It was insane, that thing was not worth a tenth of it, but he held it up in his hand and showed it.
"Here you are, you little devil," he said and grabbed the necklace, while the child snatched the coin from his hand and took a run for it. *Probably before the idiot he had fooled came to his senses*, Lovelace thought wryly.
Inside the carriage the pendant was back to what it really was, an ugly piece of stone, but still Lovelace could not bring himself to throw it out of the window. Shrugging, he slipped the chain over his head and underneath his clothes. A few minutes later the carriage started to move again and Lovelace forgot all about his purchase.
It was near midnight when he was finally home and could retreat to his bedroom. His valet, William, almost stumbled in his haste to help Lovelace out of his clothes. The man was clumsy, always fretting and Lovelace had a good mind to fire him.
In the mirror his eyes fell upon the pendant resting on his chest and with a snarl he pulled it over his head and flung it into the corner of the room. He was already in bed when William picked it up and carefully put it into the drawer of the big dresser.
"Good night, Milord."
Summary: Lovelace has a new valet. This is part of the The Stone Amulet verse
Rated: NC-17
Categories: Crossovers Pairing: Lovelace/Viggo
Warnings: Non-con, ViolenceChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 4 Completed: Yes
Word count: 4199 Read: 3213
Published: 11 May 2011 Updated: 11 May 2011
Story Notes:
Lovelace is a character owned by Samuel Richardson and we've just borrowed him to play with. Written for fun, not for profit and a bunch of dirty lies.