Newland started to rise. If she would not take her leave, then he would go. But May refused to let him pass and nudged him back down to the chair.

“It’s late,” he said, almost pleading.

“It would please me if you stayed.” When he looked confused, she explained. “I’m going to pleasure myself and I would greatly appreciate your company. That is, if it isn’t any trouble for you . . . husband.”

Newland opened his mouth to speak, but the look on her face stopped him from proffering any further excuses.

May pulled the chair he had set in front of the fireplace and placed it directly in front of him so that he would have a complete view of her orchid when she sat down and spread open her legs. From a side table that Newland never opened and so made a fine hiding place, May retrieved one of her French toys. She held up the faux manhood for him to see.

“I’ve been looking for this,” she said, smiling devilishly at him, as though she had misplaced the device.

What she had in store for this evening, Newland could only guess. And despite his affinity for theatrics in the bedroom, his anger was still weighing gravely upon his mind. All he could think of was how he had been deceived by the family—or more accurately, the families—and how he had been carefully manipulated by this small societal group.

His mind turned to thoughts of Ellen. He was plagued with horror when he considered what she must have thought when May told her she was with child, his child. What must her Granny have thought? Clearly, Granny had enough foresight to hand Ellen her hat and send her abroad. How convenient May’s timing had been to dispose of the matter. Although Newland could care less what society thought of Ellen and him. After all, he had been prepared to toss opinion aside for his happiness.

May moaned loudly, gaining Newland’s attention, and he suddenly knew that the sound was for his benefit. She must have been moaning softly, but he had been distracted, not even watching her as she pleasured herself, which of course, was so unlike his nature.

May dipped the faux member inside her sheath, not taking the full length of it, but only teasing the crown inside and out. “Are you sure you won’t join me, dear?” she asked, her eyes half closed, her jaw loose, her head lolled slightly back.

“Oh, May,” he said, not having an appropriate answer. Then he glanced down and saw that his trousers were unfastened and that he still hung limp. He had been so distracted that he had not bothered to adjust the pants.

“You’re tired, my dear,” she said hoarsely. “Let me pleasure myself for your enjoyment, if nothing else.” She licked her lower lip. And when he started to fasten his trousers, she said, “No, don’t, dear. You may change your mind yet.”

He started to get up from his chair again.