From the Baroness's Diary: The erotic escapades of Baron Beardley's wife

Chapter 7

Collette Comes Calling

Mon Cher Journal,

I was making my way back from the stables to the manor after a morning ride when I saw a shining black Rolls-Royce park at the front doors of Beardley Manor.

A liveried chauffeur alighted and opened the door.

"Collette," I called out in an unladylike fashion and waved.

"Chloé!" she screamed, in a more unladylike fashion than mine, ran to me, and got me in a tight embrace. "Ma chérie! It has been such a long time."

We walked back to where the car was and Jean, her husband, waited, and she introduced us. With a charming smile, Jean brought my hand to his lips. "Enchanté."

He is a tall man, dark-haired and green-eyed, with an athletic physique. It is easy to see why Collette had fell head-over-heels in love with him. I would, too.

I invited them inside and showed them their rooms, offering to have refreshments or even lunch brought to them.

"Oh, non," she said. "I am rested enough. Give me half an hour to unpack and change."

But Jean appeared in the doorway and, winking to me, said to Collette, "Make that an hour, mon amour."

"Bien sûr," she answered her husband and, with a mischievous smile on her face, waved at me.

I heard the lock engage when their door closed, followed by Collette's excited giggles and Jean's deep voice.

I sighed and went to my bedroom, trying not to imagine the beautiful pair together in bed.

To take my mind from lustful thoughts, I critically eyed the fresh flowers arrangements that I have ordered done for Collette's arrival.

I have put my friend and her husband in Beardley Manor's best rooms, planned carefully the menus with the manor's chef and selected the best silverware, porcelain, and table towels. They are my first guests and I am loving to play the hostess. Everything will be perfect during this week.

As I chose a dress for the afternoon, my eyes caught my mirrored reflection. I am a beautiful woman. I am not short, but not tall either. My hair is a dark-chocolate hue and long, my eyes, caramel. My breasts are heavy in a good way, my waist slim, and my hips and buttocks abundant, but not too much.

Yet, the baron has never looked at me in the same lustful way Jean gazes at Collette. Perhaps, I am not coquette enough, I thought, and made a mental note to ask Collette for some advice.

As usual, the dowager baroness talked incessantly, pausing only to breathe, during the lunch and hours afterwards.

After tea, Jean said he wanted to rest a bit and soon after, I pretended to have a headache and leaving my mother-in-law to play cards and chat with her friends, I retired to my bedroom towing Collette with me. We spent the hours before dinner reminiscing about our time in school and she told me all the news on the friends we made there.

I realized during dinner that my married life is not even close to what Jean and Collette have. The baron is very polite and attentive, but Jean is all that, plus charming and romantic. And young and handsome. And fit and...well, you get the idea, n'est ce pas?

My mother-in-law retired early for the night. I inquired to what my friends wanted to do and Jean asked if he could see TV. I blushed and explained the baron didn't approve of television. Jean looked at me as if I were an alien and Collette exclaimed her surprise, "What! You have no TV here?"

I shrugged. "The employees do. Joseph is very studious and prefers to spend his free time reading. We have an extensive library and we spend many hours there. Would you like to see it?"

Jean said yes, he would be very much pleased if he could peruse the baron's library. Of course, I let him inside the two-story high, gloomy place, ordering Mr. Longman to bring coffee and liquors to us. Collette suggested we go for a walk, saying Jean would entertain himself inside that paradise made of books.

I don't know if she was saying the truth or just being tactful, but as I longed to talk with my friend, I took her to see the pool, which is directly across my rooms.

We sat on a lounging chair there and she asked, "When is your charming baron arriving?"

"I am not certain. A week or so," I answered, not telling her that my husband was never at home during my periods.

"Ah, what a pity." Then she looked at me with a gleam in her eyes and asked in a whisper, "So, le baron prefers to spend the nights with you, hmm? Naughty man! Does he have a big cock?"

That prompted me into a fit of tears.

Having a friendly shoulder to cry on, I opened up. I told her all about my husband's business trips and his visits to my room with the sole purpose of getting me pregnant. I also told her I had never seen my husband's rod—or rather, cock—and that we did it in the dark, with most of our clothes on.

Horrified exclamations fell from Collette's mouth as my tale unraveled.

Feeling as if I was betraying my husband's gentleness, I added, "Oh, it's not that he is a bad husband, non. He takes me on horse rides and strolls in Beardley Park. He pays for my clothes and I have full authority over the manor employees. And he always brings me gifts when he comes back from his trips."

"Chloé!" Collette exclaimed. "You are living as if in the eighteenth-century! No TV?"

"We didn't have TV in the convent and we had lots of fun there. I don't care much about it." Well, it was not completely true. During my three months outside the convent I had the opportunity to see some TV shows and, sometimes, in the evenings the baron was not at home, I went to the employees entertaining room and hidden, I stole peeks at what they were watching. I found it fascinating. And then I blurted, "In fact, I am always changing clothes, and arranging my hair, and bathing, and shaving, and oiling my skin for Joseph to stick his rod inside me."

She took my hands in hers and asked, "Does he, at least, give you pleasure?"

I nodded and explained in detail a night with Joseph, finishing lamely, "It's nice."

Collette was speechless and I could not fault her. This is the twentieth-century after all: women work, have fun, and...and...I don't know what else, but I am sure they do much more than I do. Perhaps, the problem is in me being too boring and naïve and that is the reason why my husband leaves me here and goes travelling around the world alone. "I don't know much about what to do in the bedroom. I am not making him happy."

"Ma chérie!" she said. "It's not you who is not making him happy. It's your husband who is killing your spirit."

I could not deny it. I have been feeling unhappy and despite my efforts to keep my hopes high, each day I feel less and less inclined to smile.

"Le baron Cochon must learn to treat women well."

"Oh, Collette, my husband is not a pig," I said and asked, "Can you help me?"

"Fret not. I'll teach you many things during my stay," Collette said with resolve. She stood up. "Your lessons start tomorrow. Now, let's have a good night rest."

As we made our way back to the manor, arm in arm, I was already feeling better.