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    The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2)
    The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2)
    The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2)
    Ebook103 pages1 hour

    The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2)

    By Viveka Portman

    4/5

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    About this ebook

    'Beautifully written regency romance with highly erotic overtones' - AusRomToday


    When faced with a rakish, lusty husband, what is a proper English wife to do but educate herself in the art of bedplay?

    “Marriages are strange things, none stranger perhaps than this betwixt me and my lord husband.”

    Lady Cecelia is married to the dashing and philandering Lord William Stanton, a situation that would distress even the most composed and refined gently–born lady. However, Cecelia has a secret balm to her dissatisfaction: her maid, Bess Miller.

    Cecelia's inexperience and William's insatiable appetites fuel her desire to learn, and Bess is a willing teacher. Then, when Cecelia blossoms into pregnancy and can no longer accommodate William's needs, he distances himself, and Bess becomes her only solace and comfort – and the channel for her most intimate desires. As Cecelia struggles to understand her own feelings, gossip begins to spread. William starts asking questions, and wicked confessions must be made...
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins Publishers Australia
    Release dateDec 1, 2013
    ISBN9780857991096
    The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2)
    Author

    Viveka Portman

    Viveka Portman is an author of romantic erotic fiction, and has a fascination about times past. With a bachelor degree in anthropology, Viveka weaves historical fact into fiction to create lively, realistic and thrilling tales, sure to titillate and engage the most discerning reader. Considered an upstanding member of society, Viveka does not make a habit of eavesdropping, gossiping or making vulgar displays of impropriety - except, that is, in writing.

    Read more from Viveka Portman

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    Reviews for The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2)

    4/5

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    • 4/5
      I received this book as an ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecelia Stanton was really very good in terms of literary voice and its romantic activity. I do wish however it had been longer and had more plot development as the story did span 7+ years in the lives of the main characters. As a novella, the book ended somewhat abruptly just when Cecelia's revelations could have let to some interesting plot developments.
    • 5/5
      The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecilia Stanton by Viveka Portman(Novella #2: Confessions (?) Series)Source: PurchaseRating: 5/5 starsRound two of Viveka Portman’s Confessions series, The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecilia Stanton is every bit as entertaining as the first book in the series, The Secret Diary of Lady Catherine Bexley. Cecilia Stanton is a regency era young woman who has, much to her great delight, just married Lord William Stanton and she is aware of Lord Stanton’s reputation she is sure his appetites will be curbed now that they have wed. And then her wedding night happens and Cecilia’s hopes for her future are dashed.Admittedly, Cecilia knew her first sexual encounter with her new husband would be difficult but wretched and awful was not what she expected at all. To make matters far, far worse, Lord Stanton made it perfectly clear that he would be visiting his wife nightly for more of the same. Following her disastrous first attempt at sex, Cecilia is attended by her long-time friend and maid, Bess. After a humiliating cleaning up, Cecilia confides in her friend about the horrible sex and laments the life she is now tied too. Thinking all is settled, Cecilia is taken aback when Bess tells her that pleasure does not always have to involve a second person nor is pleasure derived solely between a man and a woman. Along with Bess’s explanation comes an offer, to teach her mistress about pleasure and how one can best experience pleasure. As the months and weeks pass Cecilia gains valuable knowledge and some very intense pleasure from Bess; thankfully, what she learns from Bess carries her through the nights with her husband. Thinking, once again that all is right with the world, Cecilia is blindsided by both her pregnancy and her husband’s reaction to her condition. The further Lord Stanton strays from his wife, the closer Bess comes and the two women forge an even stronger relationship and become indispensable to one another. And so goes the life of Lady Cecilia Stanton until the rumors begin. Turns out, people have a tendency to notice when two people seem abnormally close to one another and during this time period, it was simply not acceptable at any level for those two people to be two women. What happens next not only involves the entire cast of characters but is a delightful twist that I must say, I did not see coming.The Bottom Line: Woo and hoo!!! Round two of Viveka’s Portman’s Confession series brings a good story, fine characters and, some delicious sex to the table. Though I still giggle at some of the naughty bits terms and words, I do have to give credit where credit is due. Portman builds the scene and remains faithful to the time period so the funny words remain. I also love the idea of women like Lady Cecilia, a woman who is living ahead of her time and taking control of her life, her sexuality, her pleasure and, the people she seeks that pleasure with. As with book one in the series, I was completely satisfied with this read and would certainly recommend it to lovers or mild erotica, historical fiction and HEAs.

    Book preview

    The Wicked Confessions Of Lady Cecelia Stanton (The Regency Diaries, #2) - Viveka Portman

    Chapter 1

    Thursday 17th June 1813

    Wiltshire, England.

    I am with child, again.

    In the unfortunate event I do not recover from this birth, I write my confessions in this diary. I do so in the hope that should word of my most intimate affairs ever become public, then these confessions may give insight into the reasons behind them.

    This is not an easy disclosure, and yet I must, in part to distract myself from my growing fear, but also to remind those I love of why I have taken this path, and perhaps explain why rumours abound regarding my husband and myself.

    My name is Lady Cecelia Stanton, wife of Lord William Stanton of Stanton House, Wiltshire. By September next, we will have been married seven years. In those seven years, with God’s Grace, I will have delivered five healthy children – providing of course I birth this one successfully.

    One may be tempted to deduce from our ever-growing brood that we have a highly compatible marriage – though such deductions would be incorrect. Our marriage has been fraught with difficulties.

    I married William at the somewhat tender age of eighteen. I recall at the time, I neither wanted nor relished the prospect of marriage, but my father was adamant as fathers often are.

    Our marriage ceremony was a quiet one. My husband, it must be stated, was known to be something of a rake. It was his family’s most ardent wish that marriage to me would settle him. No thought however, was given to the fact that I personally found the idea of marriage, particularly to him, abhorrent. It has always rankled me that what is best for the gentleman is not always the best for the lady yet society seems bent on keeping it these inconvenient methods.

    Prior to my marriage, I was never the sort of young lady to fawn over young men. Of course I found the odd one attractive, and frequently pondered over the occasional swelling in a male’s breeches – but never for too long. You see, my interest had already been taken. Many young women fill their minds with the hope of suggestive glances from young handsome men, the improper reading of scandalous books, skilful sewing, or the sweetness of puppies or kittens. My interest and affections however were taken with one Bess Miller.

    I met Bess when I was fourteen, when she was a mere scullery maid. I was an unruly child prone to wickedness even then. I took inordinate pleasure in causing mischief for my governess and nanny.

    I recall my first meeting with Bess with vivid clarity.

    I had been exploring the estate’s greenhouse one morning with the specific objective of avoiding my governess. It was there I happened upon a most outrageous scene. The gardener, a Mister Thistleswaite, had his breeches about his knees and appeared to be urinating over one of the potted lemon trees. His manhood was limp and withered, reminiscent of a butchered turkey neck. I found this sight shockingly amusing, and veritably squealed with hilarity. Unsurprisingly perhaps, Mister Thistleswaite turned and saw me, his face as red as a beet. He frantically tried to make himself decent, but I turned and fled, laughing uproariously as I did. I could hear him call to one of the gardening lads, but I headed toward the kitchens. My hysterically amused flight made me careless and as I hurtled through the kitchens, I stumbled. With arms splayed, my fall overturned a boiling pot of potatoes. The scalding water washed over my hands, and my laughter turned to screams.

    I shudder to think of the damage that may have been done had the pot overturned upon my head, alas, at the time the injury to my hand was pain enough.

    As I cried, it was Bess who first came to me.

    A tall, wiry and strong girl, she lifted me to my feet and rushed me to a bucket of icy water, which the cook used to wash vegetables before consumption. Without waiting for my approval she thrust my hand into the chilled, dirty water. I screamed louder and tears stung my eyes.

    Cook then came to the rescue.

    ‘What you doing, Miss Cecelia?’ she chided, shooing Bess away. She pulled my hand from the water and glanced at it. ‘Serve you right. Young ladies like yon self shouldn’t be straying where they’ve no place.’

    She was of course correct. I had behaved in a fashion singularly inappropriate for my station.

    I looked upon Bess then. She had her back toward me and was busy cleaning the mess of potatoes. Her maid’s uniform stretched over her broad back and her sleeves were rolled up her arms. I admired her then, so strong, calm and composed, yet only a year older than I.

    Cook shortly ordered Bess to wrap my hand in some muslin after the scald had cooled. The feel of Bess’s work-roughened hands, and the simple tenderness of her touch simply took my breath away.

    I feel I must express something here. As a child of the peerage, my education in women’s arts was of the utmost importance. It left little time for naïve and silly things such as displays of affection and kindness. So Bess’s attentions awoke something within me. Our friendship blossomed, and at times it felt as though we were part of the same body. I was the left hand and she was the right.

    So it was I made myself a vow that day. I would no longer be the silly, flighty girl I had been. I would be stronger, I would be calmer. I chose to become more mindful of my behaviour, though I often went to seek Bess in the kitchens. My sole intent on these occasions was to steal her away. Occasionally, I was successful. We would to spend the afternoons whispering and laughing behind the sitting room curtains – away from Cook’s red-faced glares and my governess’s haughty disdain.

    It is little surprise then that it was Bess who opened my eyes to the world of men and women. The first time she tumbled in the hay with Carter, the son of our head groom, she recounted the wicked details to me with glee.

    I’ll confess, I was mightily jealous of her, sinful though it was. You must understand, I had no desire to tumble with Carter, who smelled of horseshit and had teeth like the animals he managed, but I did want something. I was merely unsure of what.

    My jealousy however did not just stem from wanting someone to tumble with. It also came from knowing Carter touched Bess in a way no one had touched me, and likely never would. I ached for even the simplest form of affection. When Bess would touch my hand, I was suffused with joy.

    Internally, I would question myself. I understood not why I felt this way, and wondered if Bess may feel the same. She gave no indication that she did.

    It continued thus, until

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