Mistress - Amanda Quick [40]
The stone female sat astride the naked loins of a reclining male figure. Her thighs were splayed wide, emphasizing the cleft in her buttocks. Her spine was arched, her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed, and her mouth was open in an expression of what could only be acute agony.
The male figure looked to be suffering equal torment as he jutted his hips upward. It was apparent that his stone shaft was buried deep within the marble woman.
“Most unusual,” Iphiginia managed weakly. She hoped the lamplight concealed her hot face.
“And so provocative to the passionate senses, don’t you agree?” Lartmore gestured with a limp hand to indicate the dimly lit room. The eyes in his skull glittered. “My collection is filled with the unique and the unusual, as you will see. I insist that every piece of statuary I collect be imbued with true antique sensibilities.”
Iphiginia debated whether to inform him that none of his statues were in the true antique mode as far as she could see. She tried to study some of the nearby figures with an objective eye.
It was not an easy task. The faintly glowing lamps revealed a room full of stone and marble statues that appeared to have only one thing in common. They were all images of men and women posed in astonishingly intimate and exceedingly odd positions.
A buxom female crouched on her hands and knees, her buttocks arched high. The male figure positioned behind her gripped her hips as he thrust into her.
“That one is called Unbridled Passion,” Lartmore murmured. “One of my favorites.”
“Indeed.” Iphiginia could not think of anything else to say.
“Over there is A Taste of Delight.”
Iphiginia gazed at the figure of a woman seated on a rock. A man crouched between her widely spread knees. His face was buried between plump stone thighs.
“I see.”
“And this one I call The Elixir of Life.” Lartmore touched a stone leg and smiled at Iphiginia.
She frowned as she studied the figures. At first Iphiginia thought the female was praying. She blushed furiously when she saw that in actuality the nude had a very long length of marble manhood in her mouth.
“Good heavens,” Iphiginia whispered.
“I am especially fond of my newest acquisitions.” Lartmore led the way toward the far end of the hall to where a series of sculptures had been arranged. He beamed with pride. “I should dearly love to have your opinion on them, Mrs. Bright. Everyone knows that you are an expert in these things.”
Iphiginia’s initial reaction to the series of statues was relief. The first few pieces appeared to be much more decorous than the others. These figures were at least clothed.
Relaxing slightly, Iphiginia took a step closer to get a better look at the shadowed statues. In the first of the series a young woman wearing a prim gown sat on a stone bench. A properly attired man sat beside her. They appeared to be conversing politely.
Then Iphiginia noticed that the man’s hand was on the woman’s leg beneath her skirts.
“What do you call this?” Iphiginia asked uneasily.
“The entire series is called The Breaching of the Virgin’s Maidenhead. You will notice that with each succeeding statue in the collection the figures become increasingly more intimate until, in the last one, the deed is done. Amusing, is it not?”
Iphiginia cast him a sidelong glance. She noticed that the expression in Lartmore’s colorless eyes had become a hard gleam. A sheen of sweat had appeared on his balding skull. Even as she watched, he edged closer to her. His cadaverously thin body was touching her white skirts.
It was definitely time to return to the ballroom. As much as she hated to admit it, Marcus had been right. Clearly it had been a mistake to come in here. There had to be another way to get into Lartmore’s library tonight.
Iphiginia cleared her throat authoritatively. “As you have asked for my opinion on your statuary, my lord, I fear I must tell you that these examples are extremely poor imitations of the antique mode.”
“My dear Mrs. Bright, how can you say that?” Lartmore looked