The Liberation of Miss Finch by Diane Gaston

Author:Diane Gaston [Gaston, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Goodreads: 12769411
Publisher: Harlequin Historical Undone
Published: 2010-12-31T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

For three glorious days Louisa and Claude made their way to Ascot. With their copy of Cary’s New Itinerary in hand they plotted their course. Much of their journey was on the Great North Road, parts of which had been built over ancient Roman roads.

Louisa fancied that she and Claude rode in the footsteps of the Romans. She loved the bustle of mail coaches, private carriages, wagons, and other riders who shared the way with them. Every moment brought new sights and new experiences.

But the nights offered so much more. Because she shared Claude’s bed, the nights were ecstasy.

Never had Louisa imagined relations with a man would be so pleasurable. Never would she regret losing her virginity to this man, who had once merely been her friend and now was so much more. The first time, Claude had given her one new sensation after another, leading to a convulsion of pleasure that exceeded anything she could have imagined. She’d thought surely nothing could be better, but each succeeding lovemaking surpassed the others.

Imagine it. She, who had never been anywhere or done anything, reveled in the wanton glory of nakedness. To feel his hands upon her bare skin was bliss. The touch of his fingers on her breasts created waves of glorious sensation inside her. But when he touched her most private places—words could not describe the rapture.

Another surprise, she delighted in his nakedness, as well. His body was ridged and hard-muscled, as if honed by hard work. She loved to trace her fingers over the rough shadow of his beard and run her hands down the peppering of hair on his chest.

Not in a millennium would she have believed she’d relish exploring a man…down there…or thrill to wrapping her fingers around his erect male member. Whoever could guess quiet, dutiful, poor relation Louisa Finch was secretly a harlot! She giggled at the thought and pined for their next night together.

Near Ascot.

Mid-morning they reached the nearby village of Egham where they would stay for the racing days. After leaving their bags at an inn there, they rode to Ascot Heath.

The Heath was a bustle of people, walking everywhere, riding in fine carriages or sporty phaetons drawn by beautiful horses. It was very like a town fair and much the way she remembered Newmarket had been on racing days. Several hundred booths were erected on the Heath, offering food and drink and games of chance.

Even Odd wheels spun, and men shouted when the ball landed in its slot. Men rolled dice at hazard booths. Thimble-riggers fleeced their marks. Sharks and pickpockets mixed with exquisitely tailored gentlemen and finely—or gaudily dressed ladies.

As the hour of the first race approached, they bought a racing card and, after studying it, placed their wagers. They joined the crowds assembling for the first event, filling the grandstands or watching from their carriages and wagons.

Suddenly a roar rose from the crowd. Amid much fanfare and shouts of “Long live the King,” George IV arrived to take his place in the Royal Stand.

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