the gate by a bewigged, liveried footman. The manor house was breathtaking even in
the dead of night. Windows ablaze with candlelight, the sounds of voices and faint
strains of music permeated the chill night air. Immediately, Felicity felt the electricity;
the charged atmosphere that was the Sapphire Club.
Her quim tingled at the thought of conducting an assignation with her husband
here. As she approached the large door, it opened to reveal the butler she recognized
from her previous visit.
"Good evening, Your Grace," Hampton said, bowing deeply in deference to her
consequence.
"Good evening, Hampton. I've come to join my husband."
"Yes, Your Grace, he is in his usual room."
"I am afraid he forgot to tell me where the room is located."
"I would escort you but—" Just then, several more people arrived. "It is on the
second floor, turn left, last door on the right."
As she scurried up the marble steps, she remembered Serenity telling her about
viewing rooms. She'd even pointed some out as they'd walked. Upon reaching her
destination on the second floor, she easily located the viewing room door and entered.
The room was no bigger than a small closet, fitted with two comfortable chairs.
She removed her cloak and placed it in one of the chairs. She sat in the other.
Immediately before her were small, rectangular cutouts, used to see what took place in
the adjoining room. She leaned forward slightly.
Her heart began to pound as she saw her husband, standing in front of the
mantel, sipping from a brandy snifter. He looked so handsome. Soon the door opened
and a handsome young man entered. She could hear them speaking in greeting, though
neither smiled.
"I'd hoped you hadn't meant what you said, about being done with me, that is."
"Just get out of those clothes," the younger man said sternly, as he walked away.
Phillip complied, neatly folding each garment until he stood naked, his cock
erect. Before her mind could formulate an idea as to what was happening, the young
man spoke again. "Go over to the ladder."
Her husband walked to a wooden contraption that looked similar to the ladder
she'd seen the gardener use to trim the trees. Though, the contraption appeared
different in that the rungs were padded. Phillip leaned his long body against the
padding while the younger man kicked his feet apart and secured them to the wooden
legs. Phillip's arms were wrapped around the other side and strapped in place.
Felicity blinked, then blinked again, not believing what she was seeing.
What is
happening?
She kept asking herself over and over again.
The younger man picked up an implement with several tails, which appeared
made of leather. He stood off to the side of her husband and snapped it in the air.
Soon she heard Phillip's voice. "Lay it on, Haynes."
With that, Haynes, whose name she'd just learned, struck Phillip with all his
might across the buttocks, leaving red marks. Phillip's head lolled forward, a groan
emanating from him. He was struck again and again, his buttocks becoming a dark red.
She saw blood and nearly lost control of her senses. Why was this man whipping
Phillip? It was quite confusing and not a little upsetting.
Haynes stopped the thrashing and freed Phillip, who remained standing against
the ladder. Haynes put the whip away then stood silently until Phillip turned around.
His cock still erect, Phillip had a feral look in his eyes.
With a nod of Phillip's head, Haynes removed his clothing, just as Phillip had
done minutes before.
"Bend over the bed."
The young man complied. Felicity thought her husband would now thrash
Haynes.
"Spread your legs wide." Phillip's tone was not angry but masterful. Haynes, a
well-built, muscular man, did as he was bid, his buttocks high, certainly in the proper
position for a spanking.
Phillip went to the drawer in the bedside table and took out a small bottle,
poured some on his fingers, and then to her shock, inserted two fingers into Haynes's
rectum. The man grunted, but stayed in place.
"I do love your tight ass," she heard her husband say, as he swatted the deep
pink skin and pumped his fingers in and out.
A sense of foreboding came over her as the situation before her took on more
meaning. In a single moment of clarity, her whole life crashed down around her.
Chapter Twelve
She wanted to close her eyes to the truth that was playing out before her. Her
husband liked men. Certainly, he had been a wonderful lover to her, but what did she
really know about such things? He'd given indications that he enjoyed her bottom, but
he'd never gone beyond the one time, though she wouldn't have minded if he did.
She'd never heard of men who preferred other men. Despair overwhelmed her,
as she continued to watch, seeing her husband position himself behind Haynes and
plunge his massively engorged cock into him. Haynes gave a loud grunt, then lifted
himself just slightly. Phillip's hands gripped the man's hips, holding him steady, as
Phillip, his eyes closed, pounded into the younger man over and over again.
It soon became a frenzied coupling, as her husband apparently came to his
climax. He shouted as he finished, then pulled free of the other man. Her eyes were
riveted on her husband's naked body as he walked toward the washstand. Her
attention was drawn away by the orgasmic sounds coming from Haynes. She watched
him taking care of his own pleasure as her husband washed himself.
Finally, Haynes stood and walked to the washstand as well. The two exchanged
no affection, which left her feeling empty for them.
Without another word between them, Phillip dressed, leaving off his cravat, and
left the room. She heard his footfalls pass right by the door to the room she sat in,
stunned and more in need of sexual release than she had ever been before.
This explained so much, but evoked questions aplenty. Is that what he wished to
do to her? Why wouldn't he just introduce it as a part of their marriage bed? Her mind
was jumbled and her heart ached.
She felt an intense need to go home, before he arrived and discovered her gone.
She grabbed the cloak and slipped out of the room, retracing her steps as she made her
way to the entrance hall.
As she got to the bottom of the stairs, she heard voices and recognized one as
that of her husband. Panic momentarily replaced the jumbled emotions she'd heretofore
been feeling. She raced for the door, dropping her cloak. Upon hearing footfalls coming
closer, she didn't want to chance retracing her steps to retrieve the garment, so she
dashed out of the door, down the steps and into her carriage. Not until she was well on
her way did the chill air overtake her, leaving her teeth to chatter all the way home.
* * * * *
Lucien escorted Phillip into the entrance hall, the two chatting about the
innocuous things that men talk about. Phillip was relaxed, more so than he'd been in
days, but then again, his sessions with Haynes usually had that effect.
Lucien bent down to pick up a black garment that was piled on the black-andwhite-marble tiles. "I wonder what this is doing here."
Phillip's attention was drawn to the fur, and he recognized it immediately,
though he had no idea how it could have gotten there.
"It looks like the cloak I had made for Felicity for Christmas. May I see it?"
Lucien handed it to Phillip, who examined the area around the neckline. There in
gold threads were the initials, FAL, the A larger than the rest. "I'll take this, Damrill."
Phillip was out the door before Lucien could answer, conjecture and anger building in
equal measure.
His mind splintered into a million pieces at the implication of finding Felicity's
cloak. Had she been at the club? The answer seemed quite plain. Also obvious she'd left
in a hurry. He had a passing thought as to how cold she would be on the drive back to
town.
However, all too soon, his concern turned to all-out anger. What if she'd seen
him with Haynes?
Those infernal viewing rooms!
How would he explain? He had no
defense, and he knew all would be lost.
He'd grown used to Felicity's smile, her warm body. He didn't want the
acrimony that could develop between them if she confronted him with what she might
have seen.
His life had been so ordered, so predictable. He'd like it that way. He always
knew what to expect from each day. He'd argued powerfully in the House of Lords
over many issues through the years and had always been able to make his opposition
see his point of view. He feared he could argue until his face turned blue, but Felicity
would never understand his need for fucking men. Good Lord,
he
didn't understand it.
Further, he didn't want to understand it, nor was it required of him. Simply a fact, he
wasn't about to try to explain, it was what it was.
The carriage seemed to fly to Grosvenor Square, with Phillip lost in his thoughts
and excuses. He had no idea what to say once he entered his home, but confront Felicity
he must. If she had followed him to the Sapphire Club, she must be chastised.
The door to his home opened as he approached. A wave of satisfaction washed
over him, as there was always someone on duty to attend to his every whim. He paid
well for the privilege and expected the impeccable service he got.
Without acknowledging the sleepy footman who'd opened the door, Phillip
made his way up the stairs to his wife's bedchamber. He'd decided to confront her with
the evidence and see where the night went from there. She could hardly deny the cloak
was hers, now could she?
He entered the room to find Felicity lounging before the fire on a settee. She was
wearing a wrapper, her hair was still pinned up, and she still wore her stockings.
He walked to her and without saying a word, wrapped the cloak around her
shoulders. He sat in the empty space beside her and took her hands in his. "You must be
freezing. You really shouldn't go out without your cloak."
She looked at him and all he saw were sad, dark eyes with a glimmer of moisture
lurking in the corners. She looked beaten, which told him all he needed to know.
"Ask me anything you wish and I will answer as honestly as I can." Though he
had entered the house on the defensive, one look and he knew he owed his wife more
than his anger. Somewhere inside him, he wanted her to understand. Then maybe she
could help him to understand, and they could go on as before.
"I'm sorry, Phillip."
"Sorry for what?"
"I followed you, to surprise you. I wanted to see more of the club, to maybe
experience why the club is so important to you. I wish to learn, but tonight, I learned
more than . . . ."
"You shouldn't have gone there, Felicity."
"Were you ever going to tell me?"
"No." What else could he say? He'd never intended her to find out. His
mortification was complete with her next statement.
"You prefer men to women, yet you married me. You have made love to me, all
the while wishing I were someone else. How am I to feel about that?"
He stood and began to pace the room. His mind was a jumble, negating the
effects of the thrashing that usually helped to put things in perspective.
"The answer isn't as simple as you assume it to be. If only it were. It isn't that I
only prefer to be with men, it's just—"
She interrupted before he could continue. "It is either one or the other. How can
it be both?"
"I don't know the "hows" and the "whys". All I know is the truth. When I am with
you, it is wonderful, but when I am with a man it is wonderful too."
"Do you care for Haynes?"
Strangely, relief came over him. For whatever the outcome of this discussion,
she'd know what he was. He had no clue why her knowing felt so important to him, but
suddenly it seemed paramount. Living with the lies and secrecy had taken its toll.
"Why did you go to the club?"
"I wanted to be with you. It's my birthday and I wanted to spend it with you."
"Your birthday? Why did you not tell me?"
She shrugged.
Now, he felt like the greatest sort of cad, as well as all the other horrible things he
felt. He should have been with her, not dipping his cock into . . . .
"I am sorry, dear. I didn't know. You must inform me of these things."
"It is a bit beside the point, is it not?"
"I suppose it is, yes, but I should have known. Tomorrow, I will take you
shopping. I will buy you anything you want."
"What I want can't be purchased."
His heart lurched. Her statement was ambiguous, but the implications clear.
"What do you want, Felicity?" There it was. For better or worse, he'd just opened
himself up for disaster.
"I want to be your wife, as I promised to be."
"And you are."
"Not if you wish to be with someone else. How do I compete with a man, Phillip?
I have nothing with which to fight back."
"I would never ask you to compete. It is something about which I'd hoped you
would never learn. I can't explain it."
"You never answered my question. Do you care for Haynes?"
As Phillip thought about her query, he knew the answer would paint him in yet