ThePleasureDevice (6 page)

“Mrs. Phillips, my apologies. My associate is out this
afternoon and I am handling all our cases today.”

Julius was, of course, rather surprised to see the lady,
although he tried not to show it. He also tried very much not to gawk at her.
She was stunningly beautiful, with rich auburn hair darkened by age and full
lashes framing mossy green eyes. Seeing her unaccompanied by her daughter made
her own attractiveness rather apparent.

“Thank you, Dr. Christopher.” She sat in the chair
indicated. “To be truthful, I really don’t know why I am here.”

“Oh?” He took the opportunity to study her lovely features.

“You see, Charlotte, Lady Banbury I mean, suggested I talk
to you. Specifically you.”

“And for what reason?” Julius knew why. Lady Banbury was one
of his most ardent devotees and she recommended him to all of her friends. She
had, in short, made him a wealthy man. And now, he realized, Sophia Phillips
was to be his first experiment in his new way of thinking—teaching his patients
how to heal themselves.

“I have been feeling, well, not myself of late. I usually
love the Season, the parties, the people, the company—the gossip even. I’m
meant to be an example for my daughter this year, to show her off, introduce her
to the finest company. To get her married, really. But I feel uninspired,
perhaps apathetic.”

“If I may, Mrs. Phillips, I understand your husband is
absent this Season. Is this the first time he has been absent at this time of
year?”

She screwed up her face, trying to remember. Julius could
not help thinking how endearing she looked at that moment. Beauty deep in
thought. It was very appealing. He drew up a chair to sit and hide his arousal.

“I suppose you’re right about that. He’s always tried to be
in England at this time. It is the best time of year to be here, really. He
says California can wait for January.”

Julius smiled—and when he did, the lady smiled back at him,
an expression he swore was tinged with invitation.

“Mrs. Phillips, please do not think me impertinent, but I
must ask.” He leaned over, his elbows on his knees, further masking his growing
erection. “Are you and your husband intimate when he is present?”

“Intimate?” She looked genuinely confused at the question. “We
share all our secrets. How do you mean?”

“I mean in the marriage bed. Do you spend time together in
bed, your bodies joined intimately?”

Mrs. Phillips’ blush only heightened her perfect features. “Yes,
Dr. Christopher. We have a very close relationship in that regard.”

“Very good, very good.” For the first time in a very long
time, Julius found himself feeling a bit self-conscious. He drew in a breath
and reminded himself he was a doctor treating a patient, no matter how
exquisite she was, no matter how strong his desire. “I would imagine that you
are finding yourself slightly bereft of your husband’s presence and affections.
You miss him and your relationship with him, especially during this most
important time in your daughter’s life. What I find helps in this type of
situation is stimulation of the senses, re-enlivening them, if you will. I can
provide this treatment myself but what I would prefer to do is to provide you
with the tools to help yourself. When you are feeling disquieted, this
technique will invigorate you.”

“Oh yes, please. Lady Banbury had mentioned you knew special
methods to help women.”

“Yes, well…” He really needed to stop hemming and hawing. “I
use what is called pelvic massage. It is traditionally a treatment for hysteria
but I find that it helps for other psychic maladies as well.”

“Pelvic massage? Where? On the hips?”

“No, madam.” Julius inhaled, his breath shuddering in his
lungs. “Between the legs. At the apex of the thighs.” He indicated on his own
person, attempting to simultaneously cover the insistent bulge.

Mrs. Phillips blushed crimson. “Dr. Christopher, do you mean
where my husband and I touch my body for my pleasure?”

Julius could not believe what he had just heard. “Your
husband touches you there? May I ask more details about where?” He sensed he
needed to dampen his enthusiasm from the astonished look on her face. “Please
do not be insulted. I only inquire as I have never heard any woman state this.”

She shifted in her chair uncomfortably and could not look
Julius in the eye. “He places his hand here,” she indicated between her thighs,
“and rubs a sensitive spot until I have…” she hesitated, glancing up at him for
the briefest of seconds, “spent and am ready for him to take his own
satisfaction.”

Good God!
“And please, I find this a most unusual
activity for husbands, I must ask, how did he come to know this?”

Mrs. Phillips glanced up again, perhaps emboldened by the
doctor’s admission of surprise. “He confessed to me that his father arranged
for him to visit a woman—a courtesan—for his first time, when he was becoming a
man. She taught him.” Mrs. Phillips chuckled. “She taught him a great deal. I
will say, Doctor, I am aware that my marriage is somehow different.”

“And your husband taught this to you as well?”

“Yes.”

“So you pleasure yourself, Mrs. Phillips?” Julius tried to
steady his breathing.

She seemed a tad breathless herself. “Yes, Dr. Christopher.”

It was the right thing and the wrong thing to say. He could
not get the image of the lady stroking herself to orgasm out of his mind.

“Mrs. Phillips, my treatment for a woman complaining of your
symptoms would be to release pent-up frustrations with manual stimulation. Are
you pleasuring yourself in this manner?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“With what frequency?”

“Every other day, sometimes every day.”

Julius swallowed hard hoping against hope that it would
somehow relieve the tension building in his trousers. He tried to remind
himself, to no avail, that he was a professional. “Really, that is quite
impressive,” he choked out. “I’m not sure what more I can do for you. I am so
sorry, Mrs. Phillips.”

She offered her hand upon taking her leave, her fingers cold
and trembling even through her gloves, sending shock waves of desire pulsing
through him. When she looked at him, her eyes held a touch of despair, a touch
of regret and a touch of pleading.

After Mrs. Phillips left, Julius sank into his chair,
cradling his head in his hands. The woman missed her husband, the husband who
could give her the one thing she could not give herself. Were his theories
utterly devoid of merit? Was it true women could only feel ultimate release
with male penetration?

Sophia Phillips had just presented to him some most
interesting challenges. Women were indeed the more mysterious of the sexes.

* * * * *

When he had gone out on the terrace during the Roxtons’
musicale, Nicholas could not believe the screeching noises he had just fled
from were meant to be mating calls to all the available men in the audience. It
was a shame Viscount and Lady Roxton had not thought to display other, more
obvious talents of their two daughters.

But when he had finally been introduced to the lovely Miss
Helena Phillips, it all seemed rather bearable.

He remained on the terrace after she had left, leaning
against the railing, turning his hat in his hand, looking out at the garden,
thinking of her. How absolutely lovely she was, with her form-fitting dress of
orange and olive that set off her hair and eyes perfectly. How wonderfully
agreeable she was, their instant rapport indicative of a meeting of minds. How
positively interesting she was, being more fascinated than appalled by an
erotic novel.

How absolutely unobtainable she was given his recent choice
to give up his titled heritage and try to succeed on his own. It was the first
time he felt a pang of regret for his decision. But would Helena Phillips be
worth the shameful groveling and possible violence he would be subjected to by
his brother and father? And even if he did debase himself before Jack and the
earl, would they accept him back into the fold?

Besides, he wouldn’t really be the direct heir to his father
anyway, and Miss Phillips was meant to marry someone with a definite claim on a
title. Someone, Lavinia had said, like his brother.

Nicholas sighed. He would have to simply content himself
with dreaming of gazing into her mossy eyes, running his fingers through her
brilliant coppery hair, wrapping his hands around her tightly cinched waist,
nibbling on a delicate earlobe. He closed his eyes and lifted his face to the
warm sun, breathing in her delicate fragrance lingering in his memory.

“Dr. Ramsay, sir. You’re still here.”

Her mellifluous voice drifted from behind him. He turned
around perhaps a bit too quickly, hoping the action did not seem overly
anxious.

“Yes. My employer generously gave me the afternoon off. I
had thought I would enjoy the sunshine and view a bit longer before I returned
to my office.”

“So you are a working man.” She seemed slightly
disappointed.

“Yes, I am in the professions,” he acknowledged
apologetically. “A bit odd for a man like me to be at such an event. But I find
myself in similar circumstances as yourself. Apparently, I’m here to find a
wife.”

“And have you found one yet?” she teased.

He grinned at her. “I haven’t seen enough talent flaunted in
my direction.”

She giggled and colored an alluring shade of pink, then let
him gaze into her green eyes probably a bit too long for propriety’s sake.
Feeling a touch of discomfiture, Nicholas glanced around the terrace. Except
for a few furtive couples, they were quite alone.

“Miss Phillips, aren’t you supposed to be chaperoned?
Whatever would Lady Banbury think of you speaking to a strange man?”

“But you aren’t strange. We’ve been introduced.”

“But we are alone,” he reminded her.

She glanced down and bit her lip. “Yes, I suppose we are.
Well, not really. I mean, Lady Banbury is only over there.” She pointed across
the terrace.

There he saw Lady Banbury lying, probably asleep, on a
chaise longue. He chuckled. “Why don’t I escort you nearer your chaperon?” He
held out his arm.

She slipped her hand around his elbow. As she had earlier
that afternoon, she gripped him as if needing stability, sparking a pang of
desire in his core. A moment later, she loosened her hold, the warmth of her
touch and her closeness sustaining the excitement within him.

“And really, Dr. Ramsay, it’s all right. You’re just a
doctor and I’m supposed to marry a duke or something.”

Just a doctor
. The words hurt even though he knew
they weren’t intended to. “What about an earl?”

“I think I can marry one of those too. Aren’t they all old?”

“Earls?”

“Men with titles.”

“I suspect your parents want you to marry an heir to a
title. They’re not always old.” He leaned in just a bit. “Some are even
handsome.”

She glanced up at him, then quickly looked away, her cheeks rosy.

Her artless modesty was beguiling—and thrilling. The
excitement deep down flared, warming him all over, a heat intensified with the
afternoon sun. Never had such innocence aroused him, her arm in his, their
perfect ambling rhythm, her subtly seductive scent—

“What sort of doctor are you?” she said at last, changing
the subject.

“Family doctor. At least, I’m in training to be one.”

“Like for children?”

“Yes, mothers, children, that sort of thing.”

“Did you have to study a long time to do that?”

“Well, I have been studying a long time, but I’ve only just
secured practical work in a medical office.”

“Why did you want to become a doctor?” she asked with
sincere interest.

He thought a moment. “I wanted to help people, to heal them.”
A memory of his mother flashed in his mind, distracting him for a moment before
the delicate weight of Miss Phillips’ hand on his arm brought him back to his
rather enchanting present. “And I like science, I suppose.”

“I like science too,” she said with giddy energy.

Nicholas stopped and turned to her, seeing for himself the
enthusiasm in her eyes. “You do?” It was simply too much to ask.

“Oh yes. I’ve just read
On the Origin of Species
,”
she said proudly, then quickly lowered her voice. “Although Mama says I’m not
to tell anyone that.”

“You read Charles Darwin?” He had to dampen his incredulity
so as not to appear impolite. He resumed their stroll as if he met debutantes
who read scientific treatises every day.

“Oh yes! I found it ever so fascinating.” She bit her lip, a
charming little quirk that seemed to indicate girlish mischievousness. “Those
are the sorts of books I usually read, Dr. Ramsay.”

Nicholas laughed. “And what compelled you to read Mr.
Darwin?”

“Papa bought a very fine copy for his library and he
recommended it. He knows I’m interested in the natural world and we were
discussing why some of the plants he sees on his travels are so different from
what we have here.” Her eyes twinkled at him. “I even know the Latin names.”

“You know Latin?” This was too good to be true.

“No, not really. Just for plant names and such. I just
studied by myself a little. Nothing formal in school.”

Good God. She was inspired enough to learn Latin on her own?
Nicholas broke out in a grin.

She giggled, at what he did not know, but it was a lovely
sound, a sound that was music to his ears. She giggled again, then blushed and
bit her lower lip. A very plump and enticing lower lip.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Speaking of Mr. Darwin,” she said quietly, “I think we’ve
witnessed a bit of natural selection today.”

“Because the Roxton twins have only demonstrated they are
quite unfit for the marriage mart?”

That made her giggle more, sending a thrilling quiver from
her body to his. He wished she would clutch at him more tightly again and lean
into him. But alas, she kept her proper place.