The Awakening, Zuleika and the Barbarian (10 page)

"You are delicious,
mademoiselle,"
he complimented her. "I shall look forward to my return from Roma in a few months' time."

Arising from her bowed position, she turned to face him. "I will be pleased to receive you, Count," Marguerite said, remembering her aunt's admonition that every man should be made to believe he was the one who gave her the greatest pleasure. She kissed Count Cirello upon his fleshy lips, smiling as he patted her bottom.

"Now I had best return to the duke,
messieurs,"
Marguerite told them. "I hope I have pleased you both. God speed you both in your travels." She hurried from Josie's room and back to her own, where she quickly washed again, lying down next to the duke, relieved to have a moment to herself. Then it dawned upon her that she had entertained three randy cocks this evening within the space of two hours. And the night was yet young! Just barely midnight. There absolutely could be no more going back now for her. Like her aunt, she had become a courtesan.

The duke awoke and availed himself of her body twice more before he departed her bedroom. Marguerite did not awaken until almost noon of the following day. She was sore, and her head hurt from all the wine she had consumed the previous evening. Indeed the carafe on the table was empty. She suspected that her aunt had put something in the wine to encourage and sustain passion. She would get used to it as one could get used to anything.

That evening she joined her aunt and the others in the salon. Her gown of rose brocade with its silver bows was exquisite, and flattered her fair coloring. She was still tired, but Josie and Leonie were full of energy. The redhead was wearing a bright green gown, but Leonie was more sedately garbed in cream and sky blue, which favored her blond coloring. Renée, as always, wore black.

"You are still fatigued, I can see," Renée fretted. "The duke obviously was at his best."

Josie giggled, and Leonie bit her lip to restrain her laughter.

"What?"
demanded Renée. "What have you two wicked creatures done? Tell me at once!"

"While the duke was sleeping, you know Madame that he always sleeps afterwards to restore his stamina, so while he slept we brought Marguerite in with us for a short time."

"And who was with you then?
Mon Dieu
, do not tell me! The baron and the count?" Renée was almost scandalized.
"Ma petite."
She turned to her niece. "Are you all right?"

"It was interesting,
tante,"
Marguerite said. "I do not enjoy the count's perversion, and will not do it again, if given the choice; but the baron is rather amusing, and his spankings did not harm me. Rather I found it was arousing. But then the duke awoke less than an hour after I had returned, full of life and eager to fuck, which he did several more times before he departed my bed. I suppose after a time my endurance and tolerance for such active evenings will increase."

The two young courtesans burst out laughing, but Renée was not amused, scolding them roundly. "Shame on the pair of you! Such a night was much too much for my niece her first time. If you ever do anything like that again, I will put you both out on the street!"

"Tante, tante,"
Marguerite interceded for the pair, "they did not force me. They asked me, and I agreed, for I am eager to learn whatever I must as quickly as I can. It will but add luster to your already peerless reputation. Please do not be angry. I am tired. Nothing more. And with each passing night I shall be less tired as my strength builds." She kissed Renée on both of her cheeks. "Now say you forgive Josie and Leonie. They have been very helpful to me."

But Renée was not to be easily placated. She fixed her blue eyes on the two miscreants, and said,
"You have been warned."

At that moment the guests began to arrive. Marguerite seated herself at the pianoforte and began to play. The count and the baron were missing, as was Monsieur Georges, who had returned to Nantes. Several of the gentlemen were, as usual, playing cards; the duke and his cousin were nowhere in evidence, having obviously not arrived. The two princes came and sat on either side of Marguerite. They pressed against her, smiling. They were both very handsome, and to her surprise, their eyes were gray. She would have thought the twins had dark eyes, given their exotic origins.

"How does one tell you apart?" she questioned.

"Most don't," Prince Kansbar answered.

"When you have finished your charming tune," Prince Kurush said, "will you come upstairs with us,
mademoiselle?"

"Of course,
monseigneurs,"
she agreed. "I hope I can please you, but you must remember this is but my second night."

"We will broaden your education,
mademoiselle,"
the prince to her left replied with another smile.

Again her room glowed with candles, and the scent of summer lilies. Helping each other, the trio quickly disrobed and adjourned to the big bed, where the two men began to kiss and caress Marguerite. She found their attentions extremely exciting, and while her mind remained detached, her body responded enthusiastically, which but aroused them to great heights of passion. The twins almost came to blows over who should have her first, but Marguerite calmed them.

"I am told you enjoy taking a woman together. One of you may fill my love sheath, and the other my mouth. And then,
chéris
, you will reverse yourselves. Is that not fair?" She spread herself open, and the prince who had been licking her thighs immediately covered her fair body with his own body, while his brother positioned himself above her so that he might put his distended cock between her lips.

It was an interesting situation, Marguerite considered as she matched the rhythm of her lips and tongue to the rhythm of the lover who rode between her legs. And as she had been assured, the twins came together, their love juices overflowing on one end and almost choking her on the other. Both were delighted and satisfied with Marguerite's solution for them. They cuddled her between them afterward, praising her skills. Then she brought them wine to drink, and bathed their private parts tenderly as well as her own. After a while they began a second bout of passion, this time changing positions so that the first prince now filled her mouth and the second fucked her enthusiastically.

Afterward the princes took Madame Renée aside downstairs in the salon and engaged her in conversation, both men speaking excitedly, their hands moving as if to punctuate the points they wished to convey. But Renée shook her head, gently at first and then more strongly. A look of identical disappointment suffused the faces of the two princes, but Marguerite could see Renée had finally somehow placated them. They kissed her hands, and joined Count St. Denis and Monsieur Eustache at a card table.

Madame Renée walked across the salon to join her niece. Linking her arm in Marguerite's, she said, "They wanted to buy you from me, and were very disappointed that I refused them, but I explained that I had promised your husband I would always take care of you, and swore a blood oath to him on his deathbed. That was the only way I could prevent them from making off with you,
ma petite
. Gracious! You have pleased all the gentlemen who have visited your bed so far. The duke is filled with praises for you, and I had notes from both the baron and the count before they departed Paris. This was not the life I wished for you, Marguerite, but you certainly seem to have become quickly skilled at it in a very short time. Perhaps I misjudged Charles's prowess."

"Non,
tante
, you did not. Charles was a pedestrian lover, but it would seem that I have a talent for being a whore," Marguerite said to the older woman. "I enjoy most of it, and I seem able to do so without thinking too greatly on it."

"Thank God for that,
chérie,"
her aunt remarked. "Guilt has no place in our lives. We must truly be daughters of joy for the men who come to us. Ahh, here is César and his American."

The two gentlemen immediately greeted Madame Renée, and then she introduced Marguerite to the duke's cousin. He bowed over her hand.

"Will you be in Paris long,
monsieur?"
Marguerite asked him.

"Until the spring," he answered her.

"I hope that you are enjoying your visit with your cousin."

"César and I are very different," Beaufort d'Aubert replied. "His life is spent in the pursuit of pleasure, having learned absolutely nothing from his revolution. I, on the other hand, am a man of business. I own a large plantation on the Mississippi River about twenty miles north of New Orleans."

"Are there red Indians there?" Marguerite asked him.

"Yes, but many of them are being driven further west with the expansion of our country," he explained.

"What do you grow?" she inquired.

"Sugar, mostly, some indigo, and whatever we need to survive. We are very self-sufficient,
mademoiselle."

"You are married?"

"My wife is dead," he said. "In childbirth last year, but she left me a son."

"I, too, am widowed," she told him. "I have a little daughter at the convent school of St. Anne here in Paris."

"Why do you do this,
mademoiselle?"
he queried her. "You do not seem like the others. You are finer."

"Merci
, Monsieur d'Aubert. You are kind, but I do
this
because I have no other means of supporting my child. My husband was an English nobleman, who like yourself was widowed. I married him when I was seventeen, having met him in London during my season. My parents were the Comte and Comtesse de Thierry. They were murdered in the time of the Terror. Madame Renée is my aunt. Her sacrifice saved me, although being an infant I remember nothing of it. She sent me to school in England when I was six. The Duke of Sedgwick was my guardian there. My husband was some years my senior. His son was not much older than I, and bitterly resented his father's remarriage. That is why we came to France to live. After Charles died, his son destroyed the will providing for his half-sister and for me. He sold our home, and left us penniless and helpless. Please,
monsieur
, do not presume to judge me."

"Could not your aunt take care of you?" he asked her.

"She saved my life, and saw that I was raised as my parents would have wanted me raised, but how can I ask any more of her? This life is my choice,
monsieur
, not hers," Marguerite said, irritated.

"May I take you upstairs?" he requested of her.

"Of course,
monsieur
. I hope your cousin, the duke, has spoken well of me," Marguerite said, taking his hand and leading him from the salon up the stairs to her room. Once inside she turned and, slipping her arms about his neck, kissed him.

Beaufort d'Aubert untangled her from the embrace. "Let us sit down and talk,
mademoiselle."

"You do not want to fuck me?" She was surprised. Both Josie and Leonie had said he was a vigorous lover.

"Perhaps, eventually, but for now I would prefer just to talk with you. Will you bring me some wine?" He smiled a quick smile at her, and Marguerite thought how unlike the duke he was. Where César d'Aubert was extremely handsome, his cousin was not. The American had a rather plain face, but his eyes, which were green she noted, were kind. She poured a crystal goblet of wine and brought it over to him. He had seated himself on her settee, and now patted the cushion next to him. "My Christian name is Beaufort, but I am called Beau by my friends,
mademoiselle
. Shall we begin as friends?"

"If it pleases you, of course. I am called Marguerite," she replied. "Tell me, Beau, do you always come to a brothel to make friends?" Her blue eyes were questioning. No, he was not quite plain, yet in comparison to the duke . . . but she must not compare this man to his cousin, she decided. "Were you born in the Americas?"

"No. I was born here in France, but we left for the Louisiana territories when I was six. My grandfather had just died. He, my father, and my uncle, César's papa, anticipated, though not entirely, what was to come. My father and uncle attended the Estates-General in May of that year, 1789. They saw that the king was reluctant, no matter his fine speeches, to cooperate with the reformers. He was distracted by the fact the dauphin was ill. The nobility wanted nothing to change. The church wanted nothing to change, although they were sympathetic to the Third Estate. The Third Estate was suspicious of the king, the nobility, and the church. My family could see there was going to be violence. César's father took his family and servants to Rome to wait out the storm. My mother's godfather had left her lands in the Louisiana territories, and so my papa decided that was where we would go. A month after we departed—we were at sea, in fact, when it happened—rioters seized the Bastille, killing its governor and several others. By the time we reached our destination, the Assembly had voted to abolish all privileges and feudal rights belonging to the nobility. We did not learn of that for months afterwards, but such things are not important in the Americas."

"In the Terror," Marguerite told him, "my father, my mother, and Tante Renée were arrested for no other reason than they were nobility. There was, my aunt tells me, no hope when that happened. You went to tea with Madame la Guillotine just for the accident of your birth. But she was just sixteen, and didn't want to die. My family was in a cell with all manner of people, and there was an old whore. When her brother wasn't looking, my aunt spoke with this woman. Then she boldly demanded one day to see the governor of the prison. When he learned that this sixteen-year-old daughter of the nobility sought an audience, he was curious. She seduced him. In return he allowed her to save my life. I was put into the same convent where my own daughter goes to school today. My aunt became the governor's mistress."