Alice And The Colonel

by Jaye Peaches

“Yes, it is. Most exciting,” agreed Alice. What little did her friend know about her life with Edmund.

  Ann left shortly after breakfast. Alice immediately pined for her company, but when Edmund suggested he take her out in his phaeton carriage for a ride, she cheered up. Cracking his whip, they set off at a pace along one of the paths that led to the lake.

  “Did I do wrong with my ghost story?” Alice asked.

  Edmund held the reins tight in his fist as the horses became lively. “Wrong?” he repeated. “No, dearest. Your quick thinking impresses me. Although, perhaps the explanation was a little elaborate. However, it is a matter we need address. We cannot have the servants or any guests making a discovery as to what we do in private.”

  “Is what we do so wrong?” The thought troubled her. After all, her parents never seemed to make much noise about the house, neither in arguments nor in romantic interludes.

  “Wrong. This is a word you seem taken with this morning. Not to you, or me, but that does not make it suitable matter to speak upon in any company. You blushed at the mere thought of it at breakfast. In public, we will be the epitome of a proper husband and wife. In my bedroom, I am your master, Alice. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. Yes, I do.” She clasped her hands to her heaving bosom.

  Edmund halted the carriage and turned to face his wife. “You will be dutiful, wait upon me, have no fear in your nudity or desires, and be most compliant to my wishes. You have nothing to fear as long as we keep this secret.”

  The multitude of butterflies returned to Alice’s belly. She dreaded they might take flight and spring forth uncontrollably. Hearing his words, his expectations in the bedchamber, filled her with longing and trepidation, but no fear. Gazing into her husband’s grey eyes, watching the breeze toss about his chestnut locks, she smiled at him.

  “I am yours, sir.”

  Chapter Nine

  “In my opinion, there is no reason to legislate any new labour laws. We mill owners should be left to deal with such matters ourselves,” boomed Mr Huddlestone across the dining table.

  “Indeed, indeed,” chanted the parson, Mr Melrose.

  At the head of the table sat Henry Aubrey, the host for the evening’s party. Alice knew that politics didn’t interest her father. His engineering mind was happy to pour over numbers and diagrams, build machinery with his hands, but his considerable intellect had never extended to matters of social welfare or the rights of business owners.

  “Times change,” said Henry. “The days of machine breaking luddites, fortunately, has long passed. Child labour is not, I believe, beneficial to society, especially young children. I do agree with this new law limiting their use in the factories.”

  “Indeed, indeed,” proclaimed Mr Melrose, the aging parish rector.

  Alice wanted to glare at the reverend. He had failed to contest anyone’s opinion while making no mention of his own. Her lips stayed tightly sealed, as were the other ladies about the table; her mother, Mrs Melrose and Mrs Huddlestone. Alice was secretly amazed the latter person could hold her tongue for such a long period.

  “Whatever the law,” said Edmund from his end of the table, “It is not for the army to enforce. It is a sad day when Englishman fights Englishman and soldiers fire upon their own people. If we had a police constabulary, as they do in London, laws would be better enforced.”

  Mr Melrose opened his mouth to repeat his customary agreement but shut it quickly when he saw Edmund’s grey eyes despatch a glare at him.

  Alice’s mother tossed her napkin on to the table. “I think ladies it is time for us to retire and leave the gentlemen to their debating.”

  Alice’s mother had arranged the evening’s gathering at Dodsworth House. She had been keen for some time to show off her married daughter and, in particular, to ensure the Huddlestones wouldn’t find any cause to mention ever again Alice’s mishap in Macclesfield.

  Lucy and Philippa hadn’t helped. Alice had found out from her mother, upon their arrival earlier in the day that her frivolous friends continued to talk about the incident, knowing it could harm Alice’s reputation.

  “They do mention it still?” had gasped Alice mortified. The whole episode filled her deep shame.

  “Foolish girls.” Her mother shook her head. “But you must not worry. These things take time, but the matter will be concluded. Perhaps,” her mother had hesitated, “perhaps, if you were to host some grand social occasion at Westfell. I’m sure if our neighbours could see you in your splendid home it would assist in the demise of this lingering gossip.”

  “Yes, it would,” murmured Alice. She daren’t mention her desire for a ball without Edmund’s sanction. The last time she mentioned it, not long after Ann’s departure, she’d been met by his refusal yet again. She had bit back a huff of disappointment, but it must have shown in her face.

  Edmund had patted her hand. “We will go about this matter at a leisurely pace, my dear. There is no rush. I need not remind you it is my decision, not yours.”

  Since their arrival at her parents’ house, Alice had played the role of dutiful wife to perfection. Her determination to prove to Edmund she was ready to play hostess remained at the forefront of her mind. She had bit her tongue on numerous occasions, holding back from blurting out inappropriate remarks or asides. She knew she had done well when her husband despatched her a smile of approval across the dining table. However, he still had made no mention of any impending ball to her parents.

  Seated in the drawing room, the ladies played cards. Little attention was paid to the game as all present were subject to Mrs Huddlestone’s continuous stream of speech. Her rambling served to cover up the obvious fact she could not see her cards without her pince-nez and the proud woman refused to wear them.

  Mrs Melrose had said nothing all evening. A mousy woman with greying hair and little eyes, who probably served her husband well by being invisible. Alice thanked her good fortune that her husband treated her as his intellectual equal and fostered her opinions when they mattered. Then there was Alice’s mother: pale and distracted, she seemed lost in a world of her own. She listened to Alice’s recounting of her first dance at Buxton Assembly Rooms—minus the salacious gossip about Caroline Fanshawe.

  Alice had attended Caroline’s modest townhouse in Buxton, taken tea and met her feeble but charming brother. With no mention of her outburst at the dance, Caroline had warmly welcomed Alice. The black-haired spinster was very knowledgeable on many affairs, spoke three different languages, and played the pianoforte like a virtuoso. Alice considered it a shame that she had devoted her life to caring for Frederick when she would have made some gentleman a fine wife. Now she realised the source of the gossip, the eligible young ladies of Buxton were jealous of Caroline, even if she did not attempt to capture the hearts of their suitors.

  Alice had invited Caroline to visit Westfell Hall and the date had been set. Unfortunately, in the meantime, she had to visit her parents and listen to Mrs Huddlestone bemoan the world in general.

  Salvation came in the form of the gentlemen, who had finished the cigar and port, and re-joined the ladies. Edmund, choosing to stand by the fireplace, looked especially fetching in his tailored coat and tight-fitting breeches. Alice smiled to herself knowing that she had touched the flesh that lay beneath.

  Edmund cleared his throat. “Ladies. Gentlemen. It gives me great pleasure to announce my wife and I shall be hosting a ball at the end of the summer. You are all most welcome to join us at Westfell Hall.”

  Alice’s jaw dropped slightly and she wanted to applaud Edmund’s declaration with a kiss. Instead, she sat meekly and appreciatively, her heart filled with love for her husband. It seemed her life was to be her own again. Society would meet Mrs Seymour and see what a fine upstanding lady she was and there would be no more talk of soldiers in alleyways.

  “It will be an opportunity to invite the esteemed of both Macclesfield and Buxton,” continued Edmund. “Two great towns brought together under one roof.”<
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  The other guests congratulated Edmund on his idea and Alice’s mother looked visibly joyful, her father relieved.

  Retiring to bed, after the departure of the townspeople, she gushed with enthusiasm. The only point lacking from his announcement had been a precise date and when the invitations could be issued.

  “End of summer,” he reiterated.

  “It is some time a way, a whole month and more!” she sulked.

  “Alice,” said Edmund, propping himself up on his elbow and looking down at her. “Don’t ruin our evening here by returning to your impatient ways. Slowly and sedately, remember?”

  “Yes, Edmund,” she spoke with a tiny voice and immediately hated herself for being ungrateful. She remembered how delighted she had been when he announced the news and thought better of her demeanour. She dismissed her complaints at the timescale and beamed at him enthusiastically. “I am grateful. I wish to show you that gratitude in some way that will please you. Something special.”

  Edmund smiled. “I will think upon that wish. There is much to teach you in the art of pleasing a man.”

  “I have a good teacher.” She rested her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats. “And I am your most earnest pupil.”

  * * *

  Edmund entwined his legs about Alice, creating a knot of limbs. For a moment, she struggled against him, before bursting out laughing.

  “Trapped.” She chuckled. “What will you do to me?”

  Edmund rolled his body over hers. “Um… I have been thinking upon your wish.”

  “My wish?”

  “The one you offered me last night at Dodsworth. Remember?”

  “Oh, yes. I did make such a brash statement, did I not?” She rested her bare arms above her head, fingering the headboard.

  Having returned home, the day had dragged by and even downing a deer with his rifle hadn’t speeded the hours along. Edmund had been thrilled to find his wife, naked and reclined on their bed waiting for him.

  There had been a frantic coupling and it had satiated his immediate need. Thinking upon plundering her a second time, he had been reminded of forgotten desires.

  He sat up. “You must be quiet.” He briefly put a finger to lips to emphasise his point.

  Her eyes widened and a puzzled expression fell on her face. “Am I not?”

  “Sometimes you do cry out loudly, it scares the pigeons outside.” He cocked his head to the shuttered window. “Lord knows what the servants in the attic think.”

  “You tease me, sir,” Alice shook her breasts. A blatant attempt to entice him further. It worked, as it usually did.

  He ran a finger over a breast, pinching and rolling the upright nipple. Closing her eyes, she jiggled her hips, parted her legs and beckoned to him her flushed pussy. It wasn’t quite what he had in mind. With a swift movement, he rolled her on to her belly and spread her cheeks apart.

  “Sir?” Her voice muffled by the bedcovers.

  “This is what I wish to take.” A finger touched her bud and it flexed as she recoiled.

  He rose, and fetched his discarded cravat. Rolling it into a tube of cloth, he brought it over to where she lay, watching him intensely with her sharply focused eyes. The whites enlarged as he touched the linen to her mouth.

  “To muffle only. I will follow your speech.”

  She didn’t resist him as he bound it about her mouth, tying the cravat behind her head.

  “Speak!” he commanded. “Say your name.”

  “Alith,” she said lisping.

  Edmund patted her bottom. “Good.”

  Next, he found the bottle of oil. Removing the stopper, he tilted it high above her buttocks and then slowly drizzled it down her crack.

  “Cold,” she shrilled through her gag.

  “It will warm quickly.”

  Placing the bottle to one side, he smeared the oil with a finger, circling it around her tight hole. He took his time. He was determined she should enjoy his intrusion and let him take his pleasure, as she had requested. She stretched out her hands, searching for something. With her knuckles turning white, she took hold of the poster drapes, scrunching the golden velvet in her fingers.

  Edmund continued to work her hole, stretching, probing, while occasionally dipping his erection in her pussy, which he found to be malleable and welcoming. Each shallow thrust was met with a light moan. A damp patch of oil and her sweet nectar formed on the sheet beneath her. Never before had he seen her so wet and pliable. Exactly as he needed her to be.

  “Do not complete. It will make this harder for you.”

  “Hurry,” she spluttered.

  “It will hurt more if I do. Be patient.”

  His cock rocked up and down her slit, and he eased it higher into her crevice. His hands separated her cheeks and he deemed her ready. Holding the veined shaft, he pressed the tip of his cock against her little bud and entered her.

  * * *

  She felt a stabbing pain. Alice could not hide her reaction to it. She yelped into her makeshift gag and tried to scurry up the bed away from him. To her relief, Edmund withdrew. He sat back on his haunches, his expression slightly bemused and thoughtful. Leaning forward, he untied the gag and tossed it aside.

  She pulled a face at him, embarrassed by her response while nervous about his intentions. “It hurt too much. Did I do something wrong?”

  He stroked her back and the gesture calmed her nerves. “No. You tried. I don’t want it to hurt you, not like that. It doesn’t mean anything is wrong.”

  She settled on her knees with her oiled bottom touching her heels. Something about his face brought out a sense of her own disappointment. She ran a hand up his arm, over his broad shoulder until her fingertips reached the puckered white scar by his collarbone. He didn’t flinch as she circled the old wound.

  “Tell me?” The last time she had asked he refused to answer.

  His grey eyes latched on to hers. “Waterloo. Musket shot,” he said with brevity.

  Alice soared with pride. Her husband had fought in a grand battle. She shuffled forward on her knees and as tenderly as she could, kissed the scar. Sitting back, she was determined to try again and show him how much she wanted to please him. “Help me. I’m sure I can do this for you.”

  He fondled his erection and smiled, as if a revelation had come to mind. “Let’s try this differently. Lie on your side, face away from me.”

  She lay down as instructed, resting her head on the pillow. He nudged her knees up, curling her into a foetal position before slotting his own form behind her. His body fitted snuggly against hers.

  “I don’t want this to hurt so much that you cannot bear it. If you can’t, I will stop.” He kissed her shoulder and she closed her eyes.

  His thumb shifted a buttock cheek, lifting it up and then she could feel his stiff erection probing against her, seeking out her unspoiled anus.

  He gripped her hip between fingers and thumb and anchored his penis in her. Slowly he edged farther into her while his panting breath hit the back of her neck. He groaned, almost sweetly and longingly, as if he had rediscovered a lost passion.

  “Good, so good,” he growled softly.

  This time the pain didn’t scare her away. She allowed her thoughts to drift and her belly to relax. Inhaling deeply, she drove out all unwanted distractions and focused on his cock. Each time he shifted, the rings of resistance gave and accommodated his girth. She remained in position, not easy to do and her occasional yelps of discomfort she stifled by biting on the pillow. With her fingers coiled about the nearby drapes, anchoring her to the bedpost, she could feel his shaft move within her, sliding back and forth. She judged he hadn’t gone deep in her recess. Content to half occupy her, he rocked his hips and moaned continuously.

  His hand moved and wrapped about her waist. His embrace captured her, dragged her even closer to his body until she could feel every muscle flex with his exertions. Strong muscles, which had survived wars, now kept her locked in his arms unable to
escape. Fingers reached for a breast and cupped her soft malleable flesh in his palm. He squeezed his hand with each slap of his thighs against her bottom. A heavenly occupation. She would never had thought being despoiled in such a place could be so deliciously intoxicating.

  Kisses showered breathlessly on her increasingly sweaty shoulders and hair, as he thrust with mounting vigour. “Put a finger to yourself. Find your own pleasure, dearest.”

  Alice had never touched herself before, not between her legs for the purposes of carnal lust. Her bud had grown in size, poking out from its protective covering. She was amazed at how tender and sensitive it had become. The little nub seemed to sizzle with a life of its own each time she touched it. Instinctively, she circled her fingertip over the hood and around her swollen lips.

  The orgasm surprised her. She clenched not just her vagina, but also her penetrated anus. Edmund juddered, stilled and made a strange noise before going limp next to her. She felt his essence drizzle out of her as he carefully withdrew.

  Alice drifted. Faintly aware of his caressing hands and a damp cloth, which bathed and cleansed her. Finally, Edmund draped a thick cover over her shivering body and lay again next to her.

  For a while nothing was said. Alice shifted, turned to face him. Grey eyes blinked back at her in the dim light.

  “That is what you wished for?” she asked.

  “Yes.” His thumb ran along her jawline.

  “Why?”

  “You enjoyed it,” he replied with a shrug.

  “So did you, Edmund. How knew you that I would enjoy this?” she persisted. She wished he could open up to her and share his thoughts. His army training had taught him to be reserved and disciplined in all aspects of his life. A contrast to her own lackadaisical upbringing.

  Edmund removed his thumb from her face and sighed. “It is not scandalous in some quarters, but you must never speak of what we do, Alice.”

  She tensed; fearful he might speak of something ungentlemanly, but she had to find out. “Please tell me.”