Lucien

His first lover had been one of his mother’s friends. Another wh*re like her, a woman who found it thrilling to tease a young teenager. He had been all of thirteen when she had finally taken him to bed, laughing gaily as she taught him how to pleasure a woman.

His eyes wandered to the edge of the lawn. He noticed the gardeners’ boy Philippe, standing, a grin on his dark face. Young Philippe, his mop of dark curls bobbing as he shook his head to something Ria and Piers had said.

Little Claude, fists waving, small plump face pink with exertion, was trying to keep up with his...