Lord Richard Sweeton III was growing more surly and discontent every day. Since the death of his wife Rowena last year he had spent his days carrying out his duty in the House of Lords and his nights in the various bawdy houses of Cheapside. If he wasn't busy gambling away his deceased wife's sizable inheritance he was burying his prick in one or two of the harlots or even a dandy from time to time. This was quickly becoming tiresome for him and he longed for the days of having a warm cunny at home to use at his whim and indiscretion. Not that his late wife Rowena had a particular warm cunny or disposition, but she was his and he didn't have to pay her. He had never been particularly inclined to the idea of marriage until he was introduced to Rowena who was an heiress to an estate much lar
