by Tia Siren
At nine thirty, Mr. Pickford knocked on the door. ''Splendid, Victoria, you're here. I've been looking forward to seeing you all weekend. Show me which is your room.''
Victoria didn't say anything as she walked up the stairs with him behind her. When they entered the room, the daffodils were lying on the bed. ''Please sit down next to me on the bed,'' she told him.
His breathing began to get faster and shallower, but his excitement was interrupted by a loud bang on the door, and another one. He got out and shouted down the stairs. ''Who the devil is it?''
After a few seconds, one of the girls shouted up the stairs, ''It's a man called Mr. Jones. He says he wants to speak to Victoria.''
''Tell him to go away,'' Pickford shouted back.
''That's not a good idea, he's got a large threatening man with him.''
Pickford went back downstairs closely followed by Victoria. ''Mr. Jones,'' she exclaimed. ''What on earth....?''
''It has taken me a very long time to find you,'' he shouted. Victoria remembered his voice and how loud he had been in Haslemere. ''I went to the mill first, and they were very reluctant to tell me where you were,'' he looked at a chair and sat down to catch his breath. He was wearing the same red breeches he had a few days ago. ''It was only after Mr. Jesop intervened that they were forthcoming.''
''Ah yes, Mr. Jespon, hello,'' Victoria said.
''Hello, Miss,'' he smiled.
''What's all this about. She's one of my employees, and she should be working, so say what you have got to say and go,'' Pickford stated.
''Victoria,'' Jones began. ''There has been a development in you favor. I am here to hand you the deeds to the Landsborough Estate.''
Victoria didn't say anything she just stood there with her mouth wide open.
''Don't you want it?'' Jones asked with a kind smile on his face. “It's yours again if you want it.''
''Of course, I want it,'' she squealed. ''Oh Mr. Jones how can this be happening?''
''You should ask the Duke, Miss. He instructed me last week to make the estate over to you, with no conditions whatsoever. Mr. Jepson here gave me a lift here in his coach, and if you so wish, he is willing to take you and your belongings with us back to your rightful home.''
''Goodbye, Mr. Pickford, you will be hearing from me in the future, I can assure you. Just count yourself lucky you didn't lay a hand on me today.''
*****
Landsborough Hall was in a state of some disrepair. It wasn't uninhabitable, but it had a leaking roof and damp walls. Victoria had no idea what she should do about it, just as she had no idea how to run the estate. When she arrived, she found she had two servants. One of them was Rosie.
''What on earth are you doing here,'' she asked.
''The Duke asked me to look after you. I am a ladies maid, and there is no lady at the Hall, so I am better employed with you. If you are agreeable.''
''Of course, I'm delighted. In fact, a bit overwhelmed.''
''The Duke asked me to tell you that his advice is to hand over the running of the estate to a firm called Stephensons Land Agents in Haslemere. They will do the day to day running for you, leaving you free to make the big decisions and enjoy your new life.''
''Splendid,” Victoria said. ''But why can't the Duke come and tell me that himself?''
''Oh Miss, the Duke is ashamed to come and see you. That's what he told me.'' Rosie shifted from one foot to the other.
''He thinks he wronged you when he didn't just give you the estate in the first place. And if you ask me, Miss, he's love sick. He does nothing but mope around; it is very sad to see.'' Rosie took a deep breath happy that she'd unburdened herself.
*****
When Roberts answered the door, he was delighted to see Victoria. His boss had been intolerable since she had left the house so suddenly a few days ago. ''Miss Victoria, oh how lovely to see you, please follow me.''
Edward was in the library, staring into space. When Roberts announced Victoria, he jumped off his seat and almost ran to her. At the last second breeding took over and he gently shook her hand.
''My Lord, thank you for the great act of generosity you have shown to me. You have made me happier than you know,'' she said.
''I'm very pleased. I'm sorry about the first time I.........''
She stepped towards him and put her finger to his lips. ''Shh, it's alright, I understand. Any man who is able to see the error of his ways and change direction without being too proud to do so is a brave man indeed.''
He looked down at his feet and contemplated an answer. He was afraid to ask for what he really wanted, but Victoria was not.
''Will my Lord please kiss me?''
*****
''I left Rosie at home,'' Victoria said as Edward walked with her up to his bedroom. We are both adults and no one need know what is about to take place. Need they?''
''No quite,'' he answered. ''Once we are married it won't matter, will it?'' She shook her head.
In the bedroom, Edward was suddenly very unsure of himself. Victoria had been around enough earthy women to have picked up a few tips, and she took the initiative.
''Get out of your clothes,'' she commanded. He did so eagerly. When he pulled his trousers and underwear down, she gasped at the size of him. It was the first time she had seen a penis and in his, she was impressed. When she touched it, she remembered what Mary and the girls had always said men enjoyed. When Edward felt her hot mouth on him, he moaned and pulled her hair. He felt long and smooth, and it turned her on.
She was eager to feel his body on hers, and he looked on, as she stood up and began to undress. When her breasts fell free, he sucked greedily on her nipples, making her gasp. She stepped out of her garments and stood before him, ready.
He pushed her to the bed and lay next to her. His hand caressed her breasts and stomach, hardly daring to go where he most wanted it to. ''Touch me there,'' she whispered. It was all he needed to hear and his touch electrified her. She played with him as he stroked her. The texture of his manhood fascinated her. The coarseness was totally alien to anything on her body.
When she could bear his strokes no longer, she opened her legs and pulled him to her. When he lay on her, she rubbed her hands over his back and buttocks, down to his hairy thighs and up again. His hard angular body felt strong on her, and she liked the feeling of giving herself to him. She felt his penis prodding at her, trying in vain to find her opening. She helped him, and when his penis was at her entrance, he thrust hard into her, making her cry out. He wasn't gentle; he was passionate. She took his pounding body and even thrust back at him, urging him on. She felt her body begin to tighten and had no idea what it was except it felt pleasurable. Every time he made a down thrust, she felt a wave coming from her womanhood. The longer he thrust, the more the pleasure until she could stand it no more. She exploded. She cried out his name and dug her fingers into the skin on his back. The sight of her breasts shaking uncontrollably at her orgasm excited him so much. He came immediately after. The warm surge she felt inside her was the best feeling she had ever known, and she clung to him and kissed the side of his face until his breathing returned to something like normal.
*****
''What the hell are you doing here,'' Mary asked as Victoria walked into the mill. ''I thought we'd seen the last of you.''
''In two minutes you will have,'' she answered. She walked along the line of bobbins that were spinning at a terrifying rate, and past a pool of women working on sewing machines. She had almost forgotten what a noisy place it was. She walked down past another row of women and into the next building. It was the packing department, and it was always cold. The machines in the main mill kept people warm but in the packing area, there was no warmth. Lizzie was standing at the end of a line of women, packing thread into boxes.
She looked at Victoria and screamed. ''What are you doing here?''
''I've come to get you. You're never setting foot in this place again. I need someone to help me run my ho
use and the estate.''
******
On the twenty-first of June eighteen hundred and fifteen, Victoria Lambert/Landsborough, became the Duchess of Haslemere. Lizzie was her bridesmaid, and Mr. Jones gave her away. Mr. Jepson was the Duke's best man.
Lizzie lived in Landsborough Hall when Victoria moved to Easingborough Hall. Lizzie married Lieutenant David Wilkinson. She had three children, all boys. Victoria had four children, two girls, and two boys.
Mr.Pickford was attacked by an angry father three years after Victoria's wedding. He died of his injuries a year later.
****
THE END
A Rake’s Revenge – A Regency Romance
Her Majesty's Prison Conway was built on the edge of a marsh in the Thames Estuary. In winter, it was often inaccessible due to flooding, and in summer the inmates and staff were eaten alive by bloodthirsty mosquitoes. It was built in seventeen thirty-six, with room for two hundred criminals. On the day Emily Lucas first visited the prison, it held over four hundred inmates in the worst situation of overcrowding ever known in an English prison.
At nineteen, Emily was a beautiful young woman with fair hair and a fresh complexion. There was only one horse-drawn coach a day from London to the prison, and as it was always full, a place had to be reserved well in advance. As Emily looked out of the window, she saw over the marsh to a large gray building surrounded by the mist of a damp spring day. She shivered and pulled her shawl around her slender frame.
''Ain't no escapin' from here,'' the woman next to her said as she nodded in the direction of the prison. ''My husband’s been here for six years. He was a fine-looking man when he went in. Now he's half the size, and he's riddled with worms from the bad meat they serve 'em.''
Emily thought about asking what the lady's husband had done, but she didn't really want to know. Perhaps he'd murdered someone, and she would have it on her mind for the rest of the day, if not the week.
When they arrived outside the forbidding facade, the coach driver helped the women down and gave them their luggage. Emily had brought apples and some fresh bread and butter. A large man with a barrel chest and a huge mustache came out to greet them.
''Who hasn't been here before?'' he asked. Only Emily put her hand up. ''Right then Miss, you stay close to me.'' He led them to the enormous oak door and opened a smaller door within it. When Emily stepped inside, she felt her heart sink. It was dark, cold and noisy. Very noisy. It wasn't pleasant noise like the chug machine or birds in a dawn chorus; it was the shouts and groans of male voices.
They were standing in a huge stone corridor between the main entrance and the prison. As they walked towards another large door, the sounds became louder, and Emily wanted to go back. But she'd promised herself. The warder opened the next door and showed the women to a room on the left. It had stone walls and no source of light except for a few candles hanging on the walls. Every few yards there was a table and two chairs.
''Right Miss, you sit here,'' the warder said, pointing to a table in the far corner of the room. ''He's not a violent man like some of the others.'' He nodded to the tables closer to the door. ''We keep those tables for violent men. When they start being aggressive, we can shove them back into the prison more easily from there.''
Emily looked around her. There were about ten tables in the room, and the six women she had arrived with all had a seat. A whistle blew from somewhere, and the barred door in the corner opened. The first man to come through Emily did not like the look of. When her father came through the door, she stood up to greet him and was instantly shocked. When he'd been sentenced for crimes of a financial nature three months earlier, he'd been a tall man with blonde hair and a muscular physique. Now he stooped, and his face was dirty. His hair looked as if it hadn't been washed for as long as he'd been in the terrible place.
''Father, oh father,'' Emily cried as she held her arms out.
''Sit down, Miss,'' the warder shouted from his seat next to the door.
''You look so tired. Are you alright?'' she asked.
Her father looked at her blue eyes and beautiful face and smiled. Emily gasped when she noticed he had a tooth missing. ''I'm as well as can be expected, my dear.
''It's a horrible place. I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier, it is so difficult to get here, the coach is always full. I tried and tried but....'' she felt tears coming but stopped herself. She had to be strong for him.
''Don't upset yourself. You are my darling daughter, and it pains me more than anything else to see you upset.'' He took her hands in his. The warder stood up and walked over to them. When he was confident Emily was not passing her father anything sinister, he went away again. ''Are you happy living with your cousins?''
''I would be happier living with you and ma'ma,'' Emily said as she looked at his long finger nails.
''Of course, my dear. But we can't go back. When I close my eyes in the evening, your mother talks to me. She tells me to get out of here safely and to look after you. I miss your mother terribly but she's in heaven now, and we can't bring her back.''
''I wish we could,'' Emily said dejectedly. ''I feel so alone without you and her. It was so lovely when we lived in Kingston, in our house with the garden and the river. Do you remember the tree father?'' her face lit up momentarily. ''You made me a house in the tree, and we sometimes sat up there and drank tea.''
Her father nodded and smiled again. ''Listen to me Emily,'' his grip increased on her hand as if that would make her listen more closely. ''You will be safe at your cousins. Aunt Beatrice, Helen, and James are good people. They will look after you, and help you over the next five years until I get out of here. Who knows, you may even find a husband in that time,'' he said trying to lighten the mood.
Emily wanted to fall in love and be as happy as her parents had been. She'd seen how beautiful their love for one another was. Emily suddenly thought about her mother and how awful it had been when she'd died. Her mother had been the cornerstone of the family. Her father had owned a very successful building company, and he'd been well respected in London. His services had been in demand by the rich and famous, and at some point, he became so busy he'd employed a firm of accountants to deal with his finances. The family were suddenly rich and had moved into a large house on the Thames, in Kingston, a well-to-do suburb of London. Despite taking advice as to the reputation of the firm of accountants and its owner, he found himself bereft of funds very soon afterwards. When he couldn't pay his bills, he was arrested for non-payment of tax and sentenced to five years in prison.
''I've brought you some apples, bread, and butter,'' Emily said lifting the bag onto the table. The warder came across and looked.
When it was time to go, Emily clung to her father and had to be pulled away from him. When she was outside in the fresh air, she vomited. ''Don't worry about it, young lady, it gets us all like that the first time,'' a fat lady with a dirty coat said.
*****
''Emily, Emily,'' Helen shrieked as she bounced into Emily's bedroom. Emily was lying under the covers thinking about her father and the awful place he was in. ''We're going to a party, look.'' Helen looked at the bed and saw Emily's face appear.
''That will be nice,'' she said in a melancholy tone'' She hadn't slept and she had dark rings under her eyes.
''Emily, I'm going to take you in hand. It's no good, I can't stand by and watch you torture yourself anymore. Now sit up and listen to me.''
Helen was nineteen and full of life. She'd had a privileged upbringing in a large house, with servants and acres of garden to play in. Her mother Beatrice, Emily's mother's sister, had married a stock broker who'd died at a young age and left her a fortune. She'd never remarried and brought Helen and James up by herself. ''We've been invited to a party by Roger Carruthers, it's his twenty-first birthday. Do you know the Carruthers family?''
''No, I don't,'' Emily said looking at the gold colored card in Helen's hand.
''Well, they are very rich, and all of society will b
e there. I know you are feeling melancholy about your father, but you can't do anything about the situation. You need to start eating more, you're so thin. We'll find you a beautiful dress and a lovely pair of shoes, and we'll go to the party and enjoy ourselves.''
Enough Emily told herself. Helen was right, she couldn't change the situation, so she would begin to live her life. ''Do you have a dress I can borrow? All my dresses went into the auction when they sold our house.''
''We will do better than that. I'll ask mother if we can go shopping. We'll both buy a new dress and new shoes and new everything,'' Helen threw her hands into the air in a gesture of jubilation. Emily laughed, Helen's mood was infectious.
Helen somehow managed to convince her mother that she and Emily desperately needed a new dress each, and new shoes, and if mother could possibly afford it, new shawls. Aunt Beatrice was concerned about Emily and thought it would do her good to go out into town and be treated. Helen jumped up and down when he mother nodded in agreement. ''Can we go today mother, please?'' she begged.
That evening, Emily and Helen stood in Emily's room and looked at the spread of new clothes in front of them. Two dresses, two pairs of shoes and two magnificent shawls. ''Come on, let's dress up,'' Helen suggested. When Emily nodded, she rang for her lady's maid. When Jane arrived, she was confronted by two giggly girls standing in their undergarments. Jane was twenty-three and had been with the family for two years. She was from Yorkshire, a no-nonsense woman with a dry sense of humor.
''Right, Miss Helen, stop dancing around and stand still,'' she said as she put the dress over Helen's head. It was a navy blue and made of satin. Helen raised her arms, and it fell down over her. ''Mrs Jones really has a good eye, doesn't she,'' Helen said of the lady who owned the dress shop in town.