The Tribulations of Tobias

by L. E. Thomas

  He was delighted when, with a moan of need, Lucy almost took charge, half-straddling Tobias and rocking her hips eagerly against his thigh. He could feel her heat even through her skirts and grasped her tightly as she undulated against him, her thighs gripping his, his hands and mouth at her breast, increasing her ardor.

  Her body tensed and shook and he kept a firm grip on her, not only to add to her joy of the moment but also to ensure that they both did not tumble abruptly from the couch to the floor and rudely interrupt her bliss.

  Afterwards, as Lucy gasped for breath, Tobias slid his hands to her waist and gave soft nips of kisses to her delicate throat as she recovered. He was aware of his aching arousal, but that somehow did not seem too urgent right now.

  Having Lucy in his arms, soft and warm and pleasured was more than enough for the time being. Also, although they had almost forgotten themselves, he was dimly aware of his surroundings and the fact they were in the middle of a party where causing the scandal of the decade with family members present was probably best to be avoided.

  Following a few minutes of recovery, Lucy lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were blazing brighter than the lamplight and she murmured, “Oh, Tobias,” with something like surprise in her voice.

  She snuggled into him again and he clasped her trembling body tenderly and stroked her back soothingly until the clatter of the musicians starting up made them both realize how much time had passed.

  At this, Lucy sat up and put a hand to her hair. “Dear heavens, I must look a fright!” she exclaimed.

  “You look wonderful,” said Tobias truthfully, admiring her flushed cheeks and bright eyes and the expanse of deliciously bare skin exposed to his view.

  “I must tidy myself up,” Lucy said, tucking her neckcloth into the bodice of her dress as a temporary measure. She rose from the sofa, then she hesitated and bent to plant a sweet, unexpected kiss on Tobias’ lips. “I’ll see you back at the party?” She asked in a hopeful way.

  “Of course,” Tobias smiled reassuringly at her as she gathered her fan and with a backward wave to him, hurried to the ladies’ withdrawing room to restore her toilette.

  Tobias was left in the little parlor, giving Lucy enough time to return to the main room without giving rise to any speculation, and also waiting for the front of his breeches to become entirely flat again before joining his fellow guests. He beamed happily, overjoyed at this proof of having gained Lucy’s affections and even the privilege of sharing her passion. He felt like the luckiest man in the county.

  When he returned discreetly to the main room, he joined a few gentlemen who were in the hallway. This was so it looked as if he had passed the while in conversation with them. When they all entered the reception room, the first set of country dances was underway. Although she was in mid-twirl, Lucy seemed to be attuned to his appearance and rewarded him with a glowing smile, which was warmly returned.

  Tobias made sure to dance with the spare ladies, both youthful and of mature years. However, he and Lucy seemed to gravitate naturally toward each other during the evening and their partiality for dancing together and for one another’s company was noted indulgently by the older members of the party.

  Indeed, it was the perfect occasion for a young couple to deepen their acquaintanceship into something more substantial among a gathering of friends and neighbors. Lucy and Tobias were too occupied with each other to notice the cheerful speculation. However, Mrs. Holbourne was smiling amicably at the turn of events as if well pleased that her wilfully single daughter might, at last, be partial to a suitable bachelor.

  The dancing ended with a final flourish from the musicians, which was the cue for the guests to start thinking about wandering their way home, perhaps after a final libation. As the Canon left, that good gentleman’s wife, his mother’s cousin, with an encouraging comment made a particular reference as to how well Miss Lucy looked this evening.

  Lucy and Tobias had to make do with a formal farewell at the door, overlooked amicably by the remaining company. However, even a gentle peck on his cheek seemed to Tobias to be full of promise. As he and his borrowed steed ambled home, he was as content as could be, with all his worries far behind him.

  Despite not have imbibed heavily, he still felt dizzy and almost intoxicated. For once in his anxious and slightly befuddled life, he suddenly felt sure he was on the right path. This was romantically symbolic, as his steed would most likely plod its way back home from the ends of the earth without any steering whatsoever.

  Having settled the horse in his stable, with a light heart, Tobias made the short walk to the vicarage. He gazed up at the bright stars in the night sky that twinkled back hopefully at him. As he entered the silent vicarage, he felt entirely blessed with his lot.

  All was right with the world, he thought hazily, and with the granting of lovely Lucy’s favors, his happy future was finally assured. He was fairly sure of the lady, who must now be aware of the depth of his affection, he reasoned optimistically as he reached the top of the stairs. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

  Chapter 8

  Tobias started the Sabbath day in a buoyant mood. When in church, old Mr. Hodges woke up from a vivid dream in the middle of the sermon, no doubt recalling some ancient wrongdoing. He yelled loudly when Tobias was in full flow about turning the other cheek, “I’ll get ye for this if it’s the last thing I do, ye rotten bastards!” Even this slightly awkward interruption did not disturb Tobias’s sense of inner well-being.

  After all, he had virtually plighted his troth to the lovely Lucy Holbourne at a party a few days before. His churchwarden might be interfering beyond the limits of his role and his housekeeper selectively deaf, but these everyday irritants could not spoil his sense of all-pervading gladness.

  On Tuesday, this equable frame of mind was slightly dampened. He was out and about on his scheduled visits within his parish of Stratton-over-Wye and therefore on foot. Looking down the street, he thought he spotted the lithe form of his Lucy. His confidence in her feelings was such that he felt emboldened to call out to her, sure that she would be equally glad of this unexpected meeting. However, she simply carried on walking away from him.

  Tobias was too busy to think much of it at the time, but later in his study, while trying to helpfully critique a specimen sermon at his curate’s request, his mind kept mulling over the small incident. There were a thousand reasons why she had not responded, he reasoned.

  For one, it might not have been Lucy, after all, just someone with a passing resemblance to her at a distance. Or if it was Lucy, she might not have heard him, as the street had been busy and there was considerable background noise, both human and of traffic.

  Even as he made these rational excuses, a worm of disquiet started to bury itself in his thoughts. Finding himself gazing mindlessly at his curate’s cramped handwriting, he dismissed these for the time being. He decided that all would be made clear and hopefully happily when he next met with the lady properly.

  There was no great delay over such an opportunity. As the autumn weather continued to be relatively fine, there were frequent casual social occasions in the district. These were arranged to take advantage before the wet and cold of the winter came and effectively closed the roads with a deluge of mud.

  Although Tobias and Lucy attended these same events, he was not able to get a chance to talk with her. She always seemed to be surrounded by a gaggle of girls or was conversing with someone else when he attempted to approach her. Tobias did not count himself as one of the more percipient of beings, nor was he easily affronted. However, as this pattern was repeated over and again, it gradually occurred to him that she was deliberately avoiding him.

  To be fair, this was done subtly. She did not toss her head, avert her glare, and deliver a cut direct. There was no anger in her manner, which Tobias rather sadly thought was more like indifference. There was also no gossip about Lucy quarreling with him that reached his ears. As far as his neighbors were concerned, t
hey were virtually an established couple.

  He puzzled over this. On that recent evening at the Glossops’, only a week or two previously, she had responded to his kisses with something more than warmth and seemed to find nothing but bliss in his arms. What could have changed in so short a time? Was she ashamed of such wanton behavior? If so, then this was a unique situation for him. Frankly, the ladies with whom Tobias frequently shared physical pleasure did not seem to have the word shame in their vocabularies.

  Perhaps she regretted their brief intimacy and wished to get their relationship back on a merely friendly setting? There was no point fretting over this. If only he could get the opportunity to catch her alone, then at least he might know one way or the other.

  During a convivial afternoon at the Canon’s, his relative by marriage, he managed to stand next to Lucy as the person on her other side was engaged in conversation and so her attention was temporarily free. Tobias began to speak some social pleasantries to Lucy, who responded politely while firmly gazing over his shoulder. Knowing that time was short before they were interrupted, he rather desperately began to ask what he had practiced saying to her.

  “Lucy,” he said quietly. “Have I offended you in some way?”

  She suddenly met his eyes, startled out of her cool repose, and spoke with her former warmth of manner. “Oh no, Tobias!” She exclaimed, “How could you ever offend me?”

  He began to speak again, to inquire further, but at that very moment she was addressed by another of the group and the moment of connection was broken. When Tobias attempted any kind of casual conversation later, Lucy’s reserved veneer was firmly back in place.

  Rather than having any kind of definitive answer, Tobias felt more confused than ever, and rather wretched. If Lucy was not annoyed with him and her feelings toward him had not changed, then why was she acting so coldly? He did not believe for a moment that this was some kind of cruel game of courtship that some ladies indulged in, which he privately surmised to be the human equivalent of pulling wings off flies.

  Nothing in his long-time knowledge of Lucy’s character led him to believe that she would partake in such unkind pastimes. However, he was bemused at her changed attitude and did not know what to do.

  The one person he could have confided in was his intimate friend Meg, who had recently become a friendly acquaintance of Lucy’s, with mutual approval on both sides. Tobias was a little hazy over the etiquette of discussing romantic relations about one lady with another with whom he had been frequently and energetically intimate.

  However, Meg had proved herself a true friend and support and her somewhat unorthodox life experience made her hugely understanding of the vagaries of human behavior, well beyond Tobias’ rather narrow limits. Unfortunately, the gentleman at whose leisure she was currently employed was frequently visiting the little cottage he had hired for her in Titterington. Tobias was limited to writing a brief note, then resigning himself to wait for her counsel until she was less occupied.

  Adding to his misery was a letter from his mama, full of expectation about his burgeoning courtship of Lucy. He could not blame any particular tale-carrier as the news could have come innocently from several people at the Glossops’ who had seen them so happy together. He quailed at her future fury and disappointment that he had upset another potential and socially acceptable bride-to-be. Once that happened, no doubt he would find himself engaged to the most odious of the Lowe sisters before a week was out.

  But these circumstances made him realize that Lucy was not simply a more pleasing alternative to a Lowe (for some obscure reason, still favorites for his hand in his mother’s estimation, no doubt due to their father’s bank balance rather than their attractiveness). This was not about the necessity of making a financially rewarding match with some lady or other who he could tolerate to spend at least part of each day with.

  Now it was too late, he was aware he cared for Lucy for herself and the reciprocated tendresse she had appeared to have for him, however briefly. Their affection for each other had gradually crept up over the past few months as they had got closer, kindling only into a flame of love and passion on that fateful evening. It was only now that this seemed to have fallen to ashes that he appreciated the strength of his emotions and regard for her.

  For the first time in his life, Tobias was lovelorn. He nursed his wounded heart as all around him (at least for those in his immediate circle) expected him to rejoice in his new-found happiness.

  With no immediate end to his romantic plight, Tobias plodded on through his duties, even using them as an excuse not to join in the social round. Seeing Lucy under the current circumstances was too painful. He felt inured in his little bubble of misery and just tried to find comfort in the thought that at least things could not get any worse.

  * * * *

  Regrettably, subsequent events proved this supposition to be false. When he arrived at his home from the sickbed of a parishioner one late afternoon, he was greeted by Mrs. Slack, his housekeeper in the hallway of the vicarage. Her normally vacuous countenance looked near to agitated or even irritated as she pointed toward the drawing-room door. “You’ve a visitor,” she said in a voice of doom before scuttling back to the bowels of the kitchens.

  Puzzled and slightly apprehensive, Tobias squared his shoulders before approaching the drawing-room door. He opened it to find to his surprise, his middle brother Tom, resplendent in his military dress, lounging on the settle, booted feet resting on the worn arm, with a brimming glass of Tobias’ best claret in his hand.

  With his emotions having been limited only to varying levels of unhappiness for the past while, Tobias’ sense of violent outrage almost overwhelmed him. “Hello, Tom,” he said. “This is a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?” He added, doing his best to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

  “Ah, there you are, old chap,” Tom said lazily, as though Tobias was the one who was lolling about and he had been kept waiting for hours. “Jolly good claret this. Is it from Pa?”

  Tobias nodded stiffly in assent, stopping himself from adding childishly, but it’s mine now.

  Without changing his relaxed posture, Tom continued to enjoy his refreshment, completely at his ease. Tobias had to desist from sweeping the large feet in those very shiny boots from his fittings and fixtures. It might be that he was often in the habit of adopting the same pose himself, and it wasn’t as if anyone could ruin such an ancient appliance. But for heaven’s sake, it was his home and his furniture for him to despoil, not his wretched brother’s.

  Warily, since Tom had annexed the best seat in the room, Tobias occupied the armchair opposite that had seen better days. “So, Tom,” he restated, thinking that continued repetition might be the only way he could get a straight answer. “Why are you here?”

  Tom waved an arm lazily, almost sloshing the precious liquid over the brim of his glass, “Well,” he drawled. “I had some spare leave and thought I’d drop in and see you for old times’ sake.”

  The only old times that immediately came to mind were in his adolescence when Tom was in the habit of ducking his younger brother’s head in the stable trough for his entertainment. On more than one occasion, he only desisted when physically tackled by their elder brother to allow Tobias to emerge sodden, dripping, coughing and barely able to breathe.

  “So why did you not go home?” Tobias asked shrewdly. This resulted in another languid hand gesture.

  “Oh, you know,” Tom said. “I only have a few days’ grace and it didn’t seem worth my while to go all that way. Anyone would think you weren’t glad to see me!” He added jocularly.

  Tobias demurred mendaciously while thinking quickly. Firstly, he was glad to learn he did not have to host his extravagant brother for more than a minimum time, as he would easily go through a few months’ carefully calculated budget in a week at the rate he was slugging back that wine. Also, his unwillingness to go back to the bosom of his family, where he would be amply fed and watered and be abl
e to scrounge extra funds from his father was suspicious in itself. Tobias considered the possibilities.

  Either these few days away from the regiment were a punishment rather than actual leave and Tom had been sent away to cool his heels and dare not admit this to his mama, or he had behaved so badly at home last time that he was wisely waiting until the storm had passed. Tobias briefly wondered if further tidings of Tom’s former mistress, the outrageous Miss Fifi Fontayne had sullied their mother’s ears in the meantime. That might explain why Tom was too scared to go home.

  “A few days, you say?” He murmured while calculating swiftly. “That’s two? Or maybe three at most?”

  “Two full days,” Tom said smilingly, as though this must be a rare treat for his younger sibling. “I’ll be traveling back after that, most likely.” Before Tobias could think, thank heavens, he added considerately, “Would you like some of this claret? It’s rather good.”

  Gritting his teeth, Tobias desisted from snatching the receptacle from his brother’s hand and tipping the contents all over his immaculate uniform. Instead, he rose wearily and went in search of another glass before Tom could drain the carafe.

  To say that the next day was trying would be an understatement. Tobias had made the strategic error of drowning his sorrows on the previous evening. He had resignedly reckoned that if Tom was going to drink his way steadily through the contents of his wine cellar, he may as well join him. The result of this miscalculation was Tobias slumped at the breakfast table, his head so heavy that he could have happily lain it down on the unpolished surface and slept the day away.

  However, there was the unpleasant fact of a full day of pastoral calls looming ahead of him. In contrast, Tom was infuriatingly as bright as a lark and was chattering unnecessarily though a full cooked breakfast supplied grudgingly by Mrs. Slack.

  Although he couldn’t remember much of the morning, by mid-afternoon Tobias had revived somewhat due to a plentiful supply of tea and cake during his visits. He arrived back at the vicarage feeling slightly less delicate. As he took off his coat, he espied an object in the hall table that did not ordinarily belong there. The workaday furnishing was now adorned by a splendidly oversized and colorful bonnet.