Sherry, already in his cups, said to Tony, “Hair be damned, it was her magnificent tits that dazzled him. His Highness is a breast man, you know.”
Tony, lightheaded herself from cherry brandy said, “Likes breasts, does he?”
“The bigger the better. S’pect he was weaned too early. Queen had fifteen, y’know, popped ’em out like pups. Poor George wasn’t as fortunate as a pup. When a pup gets shoved out at least it can suck hind tit.”
Tony blinked rapidly. She knew the prince could hear every word Sherry uttered, but instead of taking offense he concurred with his friend’s analysis. The prince winked at Tony. “Sherry isn’t a breast man. Ask him which part he prefers.”
“Pussy,” announced Sheridan. “Like ’em small and tight.”
Tony wasn’t precisely certain he meant what she thought he meant, but Good God Almighty, what other part of a woman’s body could be called a pussy?
She looked up as the Duke of Devonshire approached the Prince of Wales. “Your Highness, Georgiana will be mad as fire if we don’t soon join the ladies.”
“My pleasure, Devonshire.”
When Prince George stood up the connecting doors to the large salon were thrown open so that the sexes could once again mingle. Tony scanned the dining room for Adam Savage and saw him in deep conversation with her friend, James Wyatt. Good God, she must be on her guard when they came face to face. If anyone could recognize that she was Antonia, it would be the gifted architect.
She could hear music and wandered out to the ball-room. She stood admiring the painted ceiling, but when she lowered her eyes she saw to her dismay that three young ladies had gathered about her. Speculation or invitation was in every eye and it was patently clear they were all expecting Lord Lamb to partner them in the dancing. Tony rubbed her leg and murmured, “Came a cropper yesterday; jade threw me.” She limped away stiff legged and took refuge in the card room.
Tony took a goblet of wine from a proffered silver tray and thought she might learn a few things by watching the card players. Georgiana called to her immediately. “Tony, come and hold the faro bank for us, Sherry’s too foxed.”
Tony with confidence bolstered by the amount of wine she had imbibed, sat down at a baize-clothed table across from the prince and his equerry and watched the faro box produce one solitary card after another. She noticed that little heed was paid to the game and reasoned that it was no wonder the Duchess of Devonshire lost consistently.
The Prince of Wales looked at Georgiana, wondering if he dared ask her help with Maria Fitzherbert. Georgiana was his closest and most intimate friend. She knew things about him no other living person knew.
When he first set eyes on her he had been smitten badly. She was a tiny creature with the prettiest face in England. She reminded him of a kitten. They met at a low point in his life. His mistresses had all been chosen from the stage and his latest liaison with “Perdita” Robinson had ended in disaster.
He had been a naive young fool, sending her flowery letters of undying devotion, filled with their sexual intimacies. When the affair ended. Perdita threatened to publish the letters and he had been forced to pay a fortune to get them back. The worst part of it was his devotion had been sincere. He wore his heart on his sleeve and the grasping little actress had taken gross advantage of him.
When he saw Georgiana he swore off actresses for life, vowing his next mistress would be a lady. He wooed Georgiana with sincere flattery and undivided attention until he won her. Their rendezvous had been a total disaster. He remembered every painful detail.
They were extremely affectionate toward each other, touching and kissing and calling each other pet names.
“Kitten, you have such exquisite taste in gowns, I am breathless to see what you have beneath.”
“Towser, you are a wicked boy. Surely you don’t expect me to take off my dress?”
“Of course not, Kitten. I shall do it for you. Come and sit on Daddy’s lap.”
Georgiana had come eagerly, breathless that a Prince of the Realm was about to bestow the honors of his manhood upon her. He recalled undoing all the tiny buttons and fancy geegaws as she sat upon his knees, hindering him by pressing teasing little kisses all over his face. His royal scepter inside his satin inexpressibles was almost to the bursting point as she wriggled about in his lap.
When he got her down to her petticoats she playfully began to undress him. He was well endowed and extremely proud of it. He was more than eager to show himself off to his little kitten. Her happy giggles were silenced, however, when he stood before her jutting out a mile. Georgiana had suddenly lost all enthusiasm for her big doggy and he recalled how he had to tease her back to a playful mood.
After what seemed like hours he managed to remove the last of her pretty undergarments one by one. It was now his turn to lose enthusiasm. When he removed her frilled corselet, he also removed her delicious curves along with it. Kitten owed her tempting little figure to padding.
She stood before him, breastless, hipless, and thighless. She had the body of a ten-year-old child. Seven rampant inches of princely erection dwindled to less than an inch in the space of a heartbeat. They climbed beneath the bedcovers glumly yet gamely, determined to salvage what they could in the face of their differences. No amount of kissing, cuddling, rubbing, or stroking could persuade Towser to harden. They tried every trick they had ever heard of to arouse him and coax him from his wrinkled cowl, but all to no avail. They were distraught. They were both on the verge of tears. Then sweetest Georgiana had saved the day.
“Darling Georgy, let’s be best friends instead of lovers! We can share each other’s secrets and dreams and private thoughts that we would never dare divulge to another soul. Being best friends is the most intimate relationship in the world!” Bless her. She was his dearest darling. He knew he need have no qualms with her whatsoever.
“Georgy darling, I want you to add Maria Fitzherbert’s name to your guest list and you may let it be known to London’s hostesses that unless Mrs. Fitzherbert is invited, I shall not attend any function.” He was well aware that no ball was of any significance without his presence. To be snubbed by the Prince of Wales was social suicide.
From the corner of her eye Tony saw Adam Savage enter the card room trailed by Lady Sefton. He wore a polite mask, but Tony knew he was bored to death by the woman. Savage waited patiently while she stopped to speak with the hostess and the Prince of Wales.
Without mincing words George said, “Isabella, I’m very vexed with you at the moment. Why on earth didn’t you bring that charming creature Mrs. Fitzherbert with you tonight?”
Her eyebrows went up. “Maria is only just out of mourning, Your Highness, and very retiring.” Lady Sefton, seeing which way the wind was blowing, trimmed her sails accordingly. “As a matter of fact I’m having a musical evening next week in Maria’s honor. It would be a privilege if you would grace our gathering, Your Highness.”
“The privilege is mine, dear lady.”