The Lords of Kendal Manor

Chapter 7

~ Lisieux, Pays d'Auge France, Monday, 19th June 1815. ~

Audrey lifted her head from his chest, kissed his nipple and gifted him a cheeky grin.

"Thank you, Lachlan. Once again, you have outdone yourself." She praised him, lifting from his side, and abandoning his arm encircling her back, leaving his hand to fall limply upon the sheets rather than upon her hip.

Their agreement was perfect.

She never stayed with him. Insisted on using a sheath and explored her pleasure with him in multiple and complex ways. She disposed of all evidence when she left and never filled the moment with inane chatter nor emotional garbage. And while it felt like a role they were commissioned to, it was a very pleasant and inspirational undertaking regardless, scratching itches for them both.

Wherever she learned the art of copulation, he was supremely grateful to the gent for her splendid efficiency. She shuffled to his side of the bed and hovered over his upper body, delivering a swift goodbye kiss.

Her generous breasts swept forward with her motion, rosy nipples remaining peaked. Her stomach was taut, the curls across her mons wet from his attentions, a fact further hinted at with the lingering taste of her sex upon her mouth where he'd passionately kissed her as he drove himself deeply and aggressively into her body, through her orgasms, for as per her lessons, he ensured her sexual pleasure first before allowing himself to climax.

She was a vastly pleasant diversion and a generous lover; in another life, he'd be tempted to fall deeply in love with her, and yet she appeared appropriately pleased to keep their experiences transactional.

"I will come to you again on Thursday." She informed him. "Rest well tonight Monsieur Surly." She suggested, offering an impish smile as she draped her nightgown over her nakedness before him and then made her way to his door.

"Good night." He offered impassively, swinging his legs over the edge of his bed and walking naked to the dresser, giving her his back as she exited the room. A pitcher of freshwater stood awaiting him beside his basin, a cake of soap and luxurious sponge beside it.

Audrey always determined the schedule as per his design so that he knew she didn't feel pressured in attending him, and so he knew ahead of time when their next encounter would be. As a result, he was always prepared for her and the intimacy of their encounter.

Throwing a towel upon the floor, he stepped upon it and began attending his ablutions.

The old dresser had once been magnificent, and the mirror at the rear of this fine piece remained useable; as such, Lachlan could see the changes that six months of good living had altered in him physically.

His hair required a tidy last week, for the length around his ears became annoying. His wound from battle, the wound which cursed him to death and then convicted him to insanity, was a twisted mess, but it was healed. The tissue held no restrictions upon his movement, despite the unsightly puckering, but also, the colouration was fading to a natural hue.

Arms, chest, and stomach remained lean, and he didn't need to promote his strength to see those muscles flexing beneath his smooth skin, free from the sores which had plagued him in the asylum.

Having paid attention to his upper body, he sluiced water and suds across his lower half, cleaning his intimates rigorously, despite their sensitivity post-coitus, before moving on to attend to his legs.

The cannonball knees were gone. Lachlan's musculature indeed returned through good nutrition and hard work. Now, standing before the mirror, he was no longer the waiflike apparition but a slim and virile man.