(Content Notes: What’s worn beneath the kilt, class dynamics, philosophy in the bedroom, commission of capital crime, maximization of felicity)
Gervase Reveley, Viscount Raxdell, did not feel at all tired, in spite of the lateness – earliness? - of the hour. What a very fine ridotto the Contessa had contrived, what a very excellent time all had had. What a very witty thing Clorinda said. And really, he did not feel at all tired, in fact –
A shadow clouded his good mood. In the morning, no doubt, he would find himself faced with the dour Calvinistickal glare, as Clorinda had so aptly named it, and – oh, he dared suppose he might apologise, say he had not taken any consideration of antient enmities when selecting his costume –
He caught sight of himself in one of the mirrors upon the landing, and could not help smiling. As Clorinda often would remark in like case, sure I am a vain creature, and he could be in no doubt that he was quite entirely a young girl’s romantic vision of a Highland hero out of the novels of Scott, and that it was a very pleasing effect. Except –
He pushed open the door to his bedchamber.
And paused. He had not expected to find, seated upon the bed, clad in his own fine blue silk banyan – a colour most exceeding becoming to the present wearer – a book in his hand, his dear, his contentious, bello scozzese, immediately jumping up in a fluster and throwing down the volume.
Why, my dear, I hardly expected you to wait up for me.
Oh, Gervase, I am a wretched jealous creature that grudges you a little entire refined pleasure and indeed, showing due civility to that excellent woman Contessa by attending. I could not sleep for thinking how ill I behaved.
He grinned. He had not anticipated the most exceedingly pretty manifestation of Sandy’s contrition quite so very soon after the initial dissension between them. Why, do you wish to make some gesture of apology, perchance there are better uses for that tongue of yours than preaching.
Sandy stood up, the silk slithering from his body in a most distractingly arousing fashion – surely he could not have deliberately planned that effect? Could he have been soliciting lessons from Clorinda in how to disrobe alluringly? No, it had to be a happy accident. Removed his spectacles to place them where they would be safe.
And then went to his knees, with an expression that suggested that the serious, civilised, free-thinking Edinburgh MA had long dreamed of being forced to serve the carnal lusts of a wild Highlander.
What a convenient garment to the purpose was the philabeg –
How very agreeable it had been to discover that one ever interested in finding out matters and understanding things would go with quite the same fervour about exploring carnal pleasures. Even was it occasionally a little disconcerting when there was a pause and some comment more fitted to an experimental philosopher than one engaged in amorous undertakings.
Indeed, at this moment, while entirely appreciative of Sandy’s endeavours upon his prick, Gervase began to feel that it was perhaps less worship of the generative principle and more of an exercise in observing the effects of particular caresses at particular points (he could not ever entirely banish the suspicion that sheer scientific curiosity might have, or could yet, at some time or another impelled Sandy into Clorinda’s bed). He did not desire to be the subject of experimental philosophy.
What he desired…
Was somewhat that would be a vengeance entirely pleasing to both of them…
Now, MacDonald, over the end of the bed with you.
Sandy looked up, his eyes more black than grey, visibly swallowing nervously.
And obeyed. It would be by no means the first time they had enjoyed that act, for a philosopher was obliged to investigate &C&C, and the results of the investigation had been pleasing, and indeed, somewhat surprising to both of them.
Gervase took his time over preparing himself, anointing himself very thoroughly. Behind him he could hear Sandy’s ragged breathing. Walked slowly over to contemplate the sight.
Still the finest arse in all the kingdom, he remarked, slapping it affectionately, remembering that unfortunate, yet ultimately most exceedingly fortunate, drunken speaking aloud of his thought to his prim secretary. And then he began upon a pleasingly slow wicked preliminary teazing of and toying with his lover, until all philosophical calm was gone, and there was whimpering and writhing, gasping, and finally the desperate demand, O, Your Lordship, fuck me, now.
Maximized felicity? he asked, as they clung stickily together in the aftermath.
Yes, damn you, came the gruff murmur against his shoulder.
Why, takes a deal to wipe the dour Calvinistickal glare from your face, but seemed only proper to do so.
Sandy thumped him in the ribs. Indeed, he said, ‘twas entire fitting recompense, if somewhat of hire and salary, not revenge. And now, he went on with a sigh, I shall have to stumble, mayhap crawl, to my own humble quarters before the household stirs.
They both sighed. Though they might find themselves in a happy position of not being obliged to gratify their desires with furtive hasty fumblings, the necessity of caution was still an imperative consideration. Jerome might be most exceedingly discreet, but it was entirely better that he did not observe matters too plainly: so, after embraces, Sandy struggled back into his clothes, peered around the door, and crept away.
Gervase looked at the discarded banyan. Might he not give out that he had grown tired of it, and pass it on to Sandy, who became it so well? No, would likely cause comment in the household: and one does not pass along one’s discarded garments to a secretary, they were the perquisites of one’s valet and Jerome might well be in expectation of its eventual reversion. However much he trusted Jerome, it was best to give no cause for resentment. And it could not help but cause comment did he have one made most especially for his lover. He sighed.