The Dowry

by C W Lamb

  He knew this was the moment of truth, as she needed to cover half the distance between them to make this work. If she didn’t, he would topple onto her, blowing both his sophisticated approach and any chance of a relationship as he must have misread her intentions. Much to his relief, she leaned in, taking his head in her hand and guiding his lips to hers.

  “You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that,” she said as they paused kissing, her hand still at his neck.

  Quietly placing his glass on a nearby table, he reached for hers as well, setting it beside his own.

  “There is more if you like,” he replied with a smile.

  This time Robert came to her, taking her in his arms as she wrapped hers about his neck. Their kisses were soft, almost timid as they measured each other’s response. He could feel her start to intensify, only to back off as if she were about to lose control. He felt her shift positions next to him, neither willing to break their kiss as she moved her body beside him.

  It was then he felt her fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, as she pressed into him with her lips. Making quick work of the shirt buttons, she had begun working on his belt when he finally managed to speak.

  “So just how private is this backyard?” he asked as she sat inches from his face.

  Rather than answering, she suddenly stood before him. Reaching back behind her neck with both hands, she unbuttoned the collar that held the near backless garment in place. Her arms were still up as she released the collar and let the dress fell away, leaving her standing in only the matching black lace thong underwear.

  Placing both his hands on her hips, Robert drew her to him, kissing her stomach before she climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. Her small frame made it so she hardly had to bend down to find his lips with her own, her passion now on the rise. He could feel her earlier hesitancy completely gone as she ground her hips into him while they kissed.

  Sandra seemed to pause as she let her lips wander from his, moving to his cheek and then ear. As she did so, she shifted position to offer Robert someplace else to place his lips, arching her back slightly and raising up off his lap and onto her knees. Placing both her hands on his head, she guided him first to one and then another breast, running her fingers through his hair as he pleasured her offerings.

  His hands still on her hips as she straddled him, he felt her slip off him as she backed away just far enough to once more pull at his belt. Wordlessly, the couple worked at removing the rest of Roberts clothing in a hurried pace. At one point, he had started to rise as he attempted to stand, only to find Sandra pushing him back into his seat.

  Once he was naked, still sitting in the padded seat, he watched as she stepped back and slowly slid the thong down her legs, flipping it to one side with her bare foot. Then she brazenly stepped forward, straddling him once more, both hands on his shoulders as he took hold of her hips.

  Shifting his position ever so slightly, he could feel her hips moving in his lap as if searching for something, the warmness of her against his skin inviting. He found her parted lips with his as he guided her movements with his hands, a moan passing from her mouth to his as they found the position they both craved.

  “Sandy, are you home?’ the pair suddenly heard from inside the house as it was followed with a slamming door.

  “Oh god, my sister,” Sandy whispered in frustration as she hurriedly slipped off Robert’s lap and scrambled for her discarded dress.

  “You out back?” they heard, slightly louder indicating the new arrival was headed their way.

  “Just a sec, be right there,” Sandy shouted in return, hoping to delay the intrusion as she slid the dress up her naked form.

  Robert had just slipped his pants on once more when he heard a noise to his left.

  “There you…, oh my, I’m sorry,” Sandy’s sister said as she caught her sibling still naked from the waist up and then glanced at Robert.

  As she was standing in the doorway, Robert could see the young woman was definitely Sandy’s sister, the two so close in appearance as to almost be twins.

  “Jess, this is Robert,” Sandy replied, motioning with her elbow to the bare-chested man as she worked to fasten her dress in place.

  “You missed something,” Jess replied as she pointed to the thong underwear near Sandy’s feet.

  “A pleasure to finally meet you, Sandy has said wonderful things about you,” Jess added as she crossed over, hand extended in greeting.

  “The pleasure is mine,” Robert replied as he took the offered hand warmly, the action requiring him to pause in his attempt to slip his shirt back on.

  “Jess, why don’t you come back later, much later,” Sandy said as she snatched her wayward garment of the ground at her feet and then maneuvered herself between Robert and her sister.

  He could hardly explain it, but the untimely interruption had triggered an unexplained sense of guilt inside, one he barely understood. Did he truly feel he was cheating on a woman 150 years dead?

  “No, please stay. I certainly don’t wish to be rude to your sister,” Robert replied to Sandy as he slipped his shirt on and then motioned for Jess to sit.

  “I’d be happy to stay,” she said with a smile.

  From that point the three sat, at first in awkward silence, until Robert managed to coax the pair into conversation. Sandy’s irritation slowly faded as the night wore on, with Jess commandeering Robert’s wine glass as he shifted to nonalcoholic beverages.

  ----*----

  Hunter happily greeted Robert as he returned home just after midnight. The three had stayed up talking, drinking, and laughing for several hours. When it was time for him to leave, Sandra had been quite persuasive in her attempts to get him to stay the night. In the end, she conceded that the hound needed him as well and he had an early start the next day. So, it was a very weary Robert that climbed into bed with a 6 a.m. alarm.

  The next morning, he managed to drag himself out of bed and after a shower and shave, loaded Hunter into the truck and headed south. Still quite early, he postponed the morning call he had planned, thanking Sandra for a wonderful time. Before he left last night, both had agreed to a late lunch today at the house site. Sandra needed to come out anyway to measure windows and Robert was anxious to see her again.

  It had been some time since he had felt this way about a woman. Her passion for her work and the fact that the two of them both shared an intense love of old homes felt right. Robert realized that it was that common thread that had been missing from his marriage. Heather was beautiful, energetic, and could be quite charming, but their personal interests were about as far apart as possible. Heather’s idea of camping was a weekend at the Ritz Carlton.

  Reaching the front gates, he was again reminded of the day they opened for him, while the technician’s note explained that as an impossibility. He now had to question his original assumption of what had occurred. He had speculated that the wind and poorly latched gates might have given him the impression of an automatic opener. Now he was delving into supernatural thoughts.

  Regardless, they stood open this morning and beyond, Robert could see several other vehicles parked up at the house, the work crew already at it. Pulling up alongside RD’s truck, he let Hunter out and began climbing the stairs to the front porch. Wandering inside, he eventually found RD in the kitchen as the first of the cabinets were to be installed.

  “Wow, you look like crap,” RD said as the weary Robert entered the room.

  “Thanks a lot. Yeah, late night.”

  “Oh, so a good date?” RD replied with a knowing smile.

  “No, a great date,” Robert answered, returning the smile.

  “And I can tell you for certain there were no marks from stings, bites, or pin pricks to be found,” he added with a laugh.

  “Lucky dog,” RD said.

  “Not as lucky as you might think, but a great night none the less,” he added cryptically.

  With the subject closed as far as Robert was concerned,
still struggling to explain the guilt he felt, the two men began supervising the installation of the kitchen cabinetry. Examining the room, Robert noted the restoration of the walls and floors was beyond his expectations. He told RD that the craftsman must have been plucked right out of the 19th century to do such accurate and detailed work.

  Working through the morning and into the early afternoon, Robert was satisfied to see the kitchen take form. The last piece of cabinetry to be installed was the center island. In his updated design, he had located a farmhouse sink at one end of the central island and configured the opposite side as an informal eating area, the whole thing sized for bar stools.

  Unlike modern kitchens where the workspace was oriented outward, with the working surfaces lining the walls, and the center space left open, the Victorian kitchen focused inward. In a Victorian home, the primary workspace was in the center of the kitchen and was usually an overly large, heavy table. That’s what made Robert’s design so ideal, as it incorporated the central focus of the kitchen island while making it the modern version with a farmhouse sink and eating space.

  With the pedestal in place, they were just discussing the countertops, which were to be delivered early in the morning, when Sandra came into the room. She held a large bag of food in one arm and a sleeping bag tucked under the other. Rather than her usual dress or skirt, she had jeans, and a T-shirt with a cartoon Yellow Minion on the front.

  “Hi,” Robert said as he greeted the redhead with a kiss, then stepped back.

  “What’s that?” he asked as he pointed to the sleeping bag.

  “I thought I would spend the night here with you tonight.”

  Chapter 11

  Foxworth House, January 1861

  Feeling particularly isolated, Charlotte sat alone in her parlor as she looked out the front windows. It was her favorite room of the house, the one that gave her the most comfort. From where she sat, she could see her husband busy in the carriage house across the way. With Christina and her husband away in Boston for nearly a year now, Jefferson had been her only companion and he now saddled up his horse to join Florida’s Confederate Cavalry, leaving her alone.

  Business had been particularly slow this winter, and the free time had allowed her to get to know her husband in a way that was new to her. Either the concerns of the war or the extended time together had changed the way he treated her. The two had opened up to one another, sharing their thoughts in a manner that was new to their relationship. He was also becoming more of a lover to her, something that surprised her greatly.

  She recalled a recent evening, when the two had just finished eating and she was in the kitchen cleaning up. She had just finished the last of her work there, putting the crockery away when Jefferson had approached her from the rear and wrapped both arms around her waist while whispering in her ear.

  “I have a surprise for you.”

  Taking her by the hand, he led her from the kitchen and out onto the back porch. By this time the sun was in the final throws of lighting the day, the red cast hues giving way to a creeping darkness. From the porch Charlotte could see the torchlight at the end of the dock, the flames acting as a beacon for the couple as they wandered toward their glow.

  “What’s this?” Charlotte asked as she indicated about them as they reached the end of the pier.

  Surrounding them, she could see where Jefferson had spread blankets and pillows, providing some comfort on the otherwise hard decking. The soft breeze off the river was blowing away the heat of the day, as the cooler evening air still held the hint of the earlier humidity.

  “I thought we might sleep here tonight,” he answered as he motioned all around them.

  Taking her hand once more, he directed her to the center of the padded space he had created, her already bare feet noting the change from rough wood to soft material. The both of them were already changed for the evening, her in a simple white shift and he in loose shirt and trousers. She let Jefferson guide her down, he mimicking her actions, until they both lay on their backs, side by side and hands interlocked.

  She moved her head until it lay at his shoulder, the night sounds all around them a chorus of life. Her eyes closed as she felt the tension leave her body, then she sensed her husband’s movement as he shifted nearby.

  “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, his warm breath in her ear as his finger lightly traced the outline of her face.

  Charlotte allowed the tingling sensation created by the caress to travel her body as she mentally followed its path. Passing his finger over her lips, he slowly made his way to her neck, allowing more than one finger to add to the effort there. Moving down her body until her reached to top of her garment, she started to reach up to unbutton her dress.

  “Let me,” he whispered as he took her hand and returned it to her side.

  Returning to stroking the bare skin at the top of her dress, she felt his fingers dwell there as they worked back and forth alone the top of the garment. Soon, one after another of the buttons released its hold on her garment, but Jefferson making no effort to pull the fabric away just yet. As he worked his way down the length of her, Charlotte could feel the building sense of anticipation within.

  Occasionally as he worked his way down her length, he would pause and allow his fingers to slip inside the shift. His touch excited her as it softly caressed the bare skin beneath. First, he paused between her breasts, then the flat of her stomach was treated to the teasing. Hopeful as he worked his way down, her frustration increased as the target of attention at her hips was not the place she desired most, but the tops of her thighs on either side.

  Returning once more to the top of her dress, the last of the buttons vanquished, he started his caresses once more. This time his movements were not only intended to stimulate her, but also in slowly uncovering her body. The warm night air touching her bare skin in a kiss of excitement, as his fingers started tracing circles around her breasts. She could feel the goosebumps on exposed flesh as first one and then another of her nipples became erect.

  Unable to control the urge, she arched her back, pushing her breasts out, inviting more intense stimulation. A slight gasp passed her lips as her husband gently rolled each nipple between his fingers in reply. Allowing his hand to continue its journey down her body, his lips replaced his fingers, working first one and then the other into his mouth.

  Charlotte was oblivious to the world around her, the touch of her man the only sensation she cared about. Through half open eyes, the flickering torchlight provided a gentle glow before she closed them once more, Jefferson’s fingers arriving at their destination between her parted thighs.

  Her hand now resting on the back of his head as he kissed is way down her stomach, she felt herself applying pressure in an attempt to speed his travel downward. With only a moments interruption, tongue replaced fingers and she seized his head with both hands, her moans continuous now.

  She barely acknowledged his hands as they firmly grasped her butt cheeks, pulling her into him as he increased his efforts.

  “Oh yes!” she blurted as his efforts pushed her over the edge, her body spasming in a series of pleasure waves.

  By the time she had recovered, she felt her husband sliding up the length of her body, her parted thighs as his guide. As he entered her, gently but firm in his desire, he slowly began working her toward another wave of release. Lips locked in a lover’s kiss; her breath was ragged as they worked their bodies against each other.

  Almost as one, they moved in unison, rubbing and grinding into one another until she heard the sound of liberation come from the man above her. Like a trigger, it was the missing piece to her own reward, the intensity of her release even greater the second time around.

  Both satiated from their efforts, she felt Jefferson roll to lay at her side, his breath as labored as her own. Together the couple shifted, Charlotte discarding her garment as they entwined their naked forms into one another.

  As they lay there looking up at the star
s, the gentle whispers of the flowing river as it passed beneath them lulled them both into a deep sleep. The early morning sun had awakened them both, still side by side as she wrapped herself around her husband’s large frame. The morning kiss they shared spoke more to her than any words as she could hope to hear from his lips.

  It was that feeling of connection, more than anything else, that had upset her most when they received the news that Florida had voted to secede from the Union. Almost immediately, Jefferson had begun to prepare to leave Foxworth House and join up with the Confederate troops gathering north in Georgia.

  “I am almost ready,” Jefferson stated as he entered the parlor, bringing her back from the memory.

  “Must you go?” she asked once more, already well aware of the answer.

  “You know I do. Father is quite upset with me over this decision, but will not cut us off,” he replied once more, thinking it reassured Charlotte.

  “I don’t care about the money. Both he and my father think you are making a mistake. This escalation of hostilities could lead to fighting,” she responded, hurt that Jefferson believed money was her concern.

  “That’s why I must leave, I do this to protect you. I do this to keep you out of harm’s way. We are to travel north and join the forces in Georgia, Tennessee and Virginia. There, we will make our stand, not here.”

  Charlotte rose to embrace her husband, kissing the man and then holding him tightly. After a long embrace, she released him as he stepped back, still facing her.

  “I have to go,” he said once more before turning and leaving the parlor.

  Through the windows, she could see him mount his horse and head up the path that led west from the house and into the woods beyond where she knew the roadway turned north, and away from her.

  Foxworth House, Present Day

  “Sleep here tonight?” Robert repeated as he followed Sandra back into the parlor.

  “Sure, why not? You said there is nothing to be afraid of, right? Besides, Jess has no idea where this place is,” she said with a smile as she dropped the sleeping bag on his cot and turned to face him.