by Leopold Hazard, Duke of Symbicore
In the 30 minutes since I rescued you from that band of dangerous highwaymen, you know what I’ve been thinking? I’ve been thinking about how beautiful you look. Sure, your face is flushed and you’ve been crying a little, and I don’t blame you. That was a close call. This whole journey has been stressful, what with us trying to hurry to London to rescue your brother from the gallows. I’m not sure if he’s really being framed for murder like you say, but hell, I saw a needy woman with big bosoms and went along with it.
But speaking of need, I need you now. I have my sizable manhood. You have a quivering ladyflower. Why don’t we pull the carriage over right now and satiate our unquenchable lust for each other?
Well yes, it would be rather dangerous, especially since the real murderer, the evil Lord Precipice, could be right behind us. But if we let them control our human wants and needs, then haven’t they already won? I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. When you came to me for help, you left me so wild I had no choice but to summon my carriage for a ride to Madame Minerva’s, where I tupped a strumpet but thought of you the entire time.
Yes, I know you were very nearly gang-raped, but doesn’t that make you long for some comfort, for a soft body to twine yourself with? You’re killing the romance here. Work with me, Lady Maguire. Yes, I know my kiss might remind you of the foul breath of the cretins as they slobbered all over you. But this is different. When it’s true love, you don’t let a little attempted rape stand in your way of passion. Besides, I have excellent breath.
What’s that? You say you’re a virgin? I thought you were a widow. What do you mean your husband was an impotent beast of a man who smoked crack and had sex with the footman? How awful. I’m sorry for that. But your lack of experience will not matter, as I am sure you will have at least three or four orgasms in our very first interlude. Trust me on this.
OK, we can wait. If you insist. But this passion cannot be contained forever, Lady Maguire. In fact, I see a small inn up ahead. We shall stop there and pay off the innkeeper not to give away our presence. We’re tired and dirty, we should probably get some sleep. But if my need for you should become overpowering, if I should somehow awake with sweat glistening on my muscles and erotic thoughts of you in my head, don’t be surprised if I come to your room. Well, yes, I suppose I could take care of that problem by introducing myself to Viscount Right Hand. But that’s not how it goes, damnit. Haven’t you read any of these things?