Taming Taylor — Madelynne Ellis

Genre: F/M/F; Historical; Regency England
Series: Romps & Rakehells
Length: Long short story (Novelette)

Consummate rakehell, Taylor Hulme has two passions in life, extravagant clothes and buxom women, in that order. Never without a spare coat, Taylor, always keeps at least two lovers, just in case the first cannot satisfy his needs. Naturally, he takes utmost care to ensure his lovers never meet.

When Amelia Percival and Verity Quinn discover they're both being wooed by the same man, they join forces in order to tame Taylor's rakish behaviour. Holding him captive in his bedchamber, they subject him to a night of erotic torture. Come dawn, Taylor's sworn to change his errant ways, but he isn't the only one who has learnt an important lesson about relationships. When passion burns with such intensity, sharing isn't always such a bad thing.


Excerpt:

Part One
An Unfortunate Stain

Two. He'd brought two, and yet neither could be found.
Outrageous! That's what it was. Damned, bloody outrageous -- almost, but not quite, as infuriating as the port stain on his cuff that would necessitate a change of outfit before he descend into the throng below. One didn't maintain one's position as a fashion leader with horrid liver spot blemishes afflicting one's arm. The port had made an absolute mess of the blue damask, a colour he'd made his signature. He'd have to exchange it for the Florentine silk instead. Although, Lord Egremont had remarked that particular shade of grey left him looking exsanguinated.

The Right Honourable Taylor Hulme cast a final glance over the swirling figures in the ballroom below but failed to spy either the white-gold hair of Miss Percival or the alluring dark beauty of Mrs. Quinn. Though where either of them could possibly have got to at a such a soiree was entirely beyond him.

House parties were not typically Taylor's thing. He much preferred the crush of an assembly ball to this more intimate gathering. In town it was possible to lose one's self in the crowd, be absorbed into it and become anonymous, and while this gathering at Rievaulx House was large for such an event, there were still only forty or so people dotted around the place, many of them related, and all of them known to one another. Well, mostly known to one another. Naturally, he'd taken great pains to keep his two beloveds apart. He did not care to have them gossiping and discovering they both occupied space in his heart. Such knowledge would only result in discord and vexation. Miss Percival would probably weep, and Mrs. Quinn… In all truth, he preferred not to dwell on what that lady's actions might be. Something hideous involving shears and his wardrobe, no doubt.

Taylor walked straight into the chamber he was sharing with Branwell Locke, knowing his friend to be downstairs. He knew also that his valet wouldn't be present for he'd dismissed the man for the evening, and hence he'd be off doing whatever it was that gentlemen's gentlemen did when they weren't organising clothes. Thus the presence of a figure perched upon the foot of Taylor's bed was all the more surprising.

Miss Amelia Percival beamed at him, her apple-blossom smile turning her pale cheeks rosy. Well now, Amelia's presence here at least explained why he'd been unable to spy her in the ballroom, but didn't explain why she was in his room. If anyone saw her here, the resulting outrage would bring the house party to an abrupt close.

“Amelia?” He addressed her, coming forwards with both hands extended towards her. He made no more than five paces before the chamber door slammed behind him. Taylor glanced back, assuming a draft or the weightiness of the door to be the cause, only to find Mrs. Quinn planting her abundant derrière against the wood. “Verity?” he squeaked, immediately disgusted with how guilt-ridden the noise made him sound.

Taylor took stock and swallowed slowly, anticipating a verbal backlash if not a physical assault. He was no craven, but still he edged a few pac