by P. F. Kozak
“Because, there is a time and a place for such things. The hallway is certainly not the proper place for a liaison.”
“All right then, Mr. Stuffy, I’ll see you at dinner.”
“Indeed.” Peter smiled as Pamela sashayed into her room and closed the door. He could hardly believe this unexpected change in Pamela. She had become a beguiling siren seemingly overnight.
He had to consider the implications of this situation. Under the terms of Sir George’s will, he still retained guardianship of Pamela. However, according to the law, Pamela had long since come of age. Certainly at twenty-two years, she could make her own decisions about such matters.
Of course, the gossips’ tongues had already begun wagging, fueled by the jealous venom of Constance. Only today, a colleague had inquired about Pamela being at his home and the perceived impropriety of the situation. He had dismissed the inquiry with a wave of his hand, saying Pamela could stay in his home as long as she cared to stay, as Sir George had asked of him.
He could certainly stand in the face of any and all scandalous rumors. The legacy of Sir George left him with his own personal fortune and a respected position in the courts. However, he had to consider Pamela’s reputation. He did not want the vipers near her. He would not allow them to debase Pamela’s character in any way.
An unsettling thought occurred to him. What would happen if Pamela were to marry? That is what he had been wanting all this time. Now, that had all changed. They had discovered their feelings for each other. How could he let her go?
In all his days, he had never fallen under the spell of any woman as he had with her. She positively bewitched him. When he thought of her voracious curiosity about carnal matters and of everything he could teach her, his prick turned to stone.
Even with her reckless decision to go to Nellie’s today, Peter had to smile. He tried to resist the underlying urge to be amused, as a parent is loathe to smile at the actions of a mischievous child. But Pamela’s brash, fearless nature had always appealed to him. To have that impetuous spirit transfer into such a beautiful woman absolutely captivated him.
As he started to disrobe in order to wash up before dinner, Peter noticed something on his pillow. When he saw another copy of the The Pearl lying there, he chuckled. He picked up the journal, went back to Pamela’s door and knocked.
“Yes?”
“I have something that belongs to you.” Pamela opened the door wearing nothing more than her camisole and petticoat. “Do you always open the door in your dainties?”
“No, but since it is you, I fancied doing it.” She glanced down at his bare chest. “I see you have come into the hall with your shirt undone.”
“It seems I have at that. Do you mind?”
“Of course not. Do you mind that I am only in my camisole and petticoat?”
“I should mind, but it is difficult to say so in the face of such beauty.”
Pamela blushed, turning pink down her neck onto her chest. “Thank you, Peter. It means everything to me to hear that from you.”
“I think this belongs to you?” He held the journal up for her to see.
Pamela giggled. “I had Lucy leave it on your pillow for bedtime reading.”
“I see. Do you think I should study this scholarly bit of literature to increase my knowledge?”
“Perhaps. I do not yet know about such things, or if you need to study more.”
“It seems you know much more than I had anticipated.” With one last look at her bosom, Peter tucked the journal under his arm and returned to his room.
Before returning to her room, she laid her hand on Peter’s closed door. She whispered, “Soon, my love, soon.”
Even though she would have preferred a nap at that moment, Pamela set about preparing herself for dinner. She had only a few dresses left from those she had carried on the train. Thankfully, Lucy would soon be unpacking the clothing she had shipped. With those, and Peter’s promise to take her shopping, her choices would be plentiful.
Needing help with her hair, she rang for Lucy. Within a few minutes, Lucy knocked on her door. “Miss Pamela?”
Pamela opened the door, still in her camisole and petticoat. “Hello, Lucy. Could you please help me dress for dinner? You always manage my hair much better than I am able myself.”
“Certainly, miss.”
Pamela sat at her vanity. She watched Lucy in the looking glass as she pinned her hair. “Lucy, may I ask you something?”
“Of course, miss.”
“How do you manage when Jack is not with you?”
“Manage what, miss?”
Pamela’s face grew warm as she continued. “Lucy, I am having difficulty controlling my urges. I thought perhaps you could tell me how you manage them when Jack is not with you.”
Lucy giggled. “Miss Pamela, such a thing to ask!”
“I’m sorry, Lucy, if you would rather not speak of it…”
“Oh, no, miss, I don’t mind a bit. You and the mister have some hankerings, all right. I’ve seen them, I have.”
“Oh, Lucy, sometimes I simply want to scream with the cravings.” Pamela closed her eyes. “What do I do when I want to scream with it?”
Pamela felt Lucy’s hand on her shoulder. “You touch yourself, miss. It’s what I do.”
Pamela reached up and put her hand over Lucy’s. “I do sometimes, Lucy. But it’s not the same.”
“No, miss, it isn’t. But, if you do it right, it can still be plenty satisfying.”
“What do you mean, Lucy, do it right?”
Lucy slid her other hand down Pamela’s shoulder to the top of her camisole. “Your bubbies, miss, do you touch them?”
Lucy touched the lace covering the top of Pamela’s breasts. Pamela’s breath quickened. “Sometimes I do, but mostly I touch further down.”
Lucy quietly slipped her hand fully inside Pamela’s camisole and cupped her breast. “You have to touch both, miss, at the same time, like this.” She massaged Pamela’s breast, then rolled her nipple between her fingers.
Pamela squeezed Lucy’s hand and sighed. “That feels good, Lucy.”
“You have to use one hand like this, on your bubbie and the other hand between your legs.” Lucy pinched her nipple and Pamela moaned. “See, touching your bubbie makes it better.”
Pamela shifted on the stool. Leaning back, she rested her head on Lucy’s belly and opened her legs slightly. Lucy continued to massage her breast. “My God, Lucy, I want to touch myself.”
“Go ahead, miss. It’s just the two of us. I don’t mind.”
Pamela tugged her petticoat up and found the opening in her drawers. She found the throbbing pinpoint between her legs and rubbed it. Lucy lowered Pamela’s camisole to her waist and stared at her breasts in the looking glass. “Oh, yes, Miss Pamela, your bubbies are fine ones, they are.”
Lucy guided Pamela’s free hand to her breast. Lucy stroked one breast and Pamela massaged the other, all the while caressing the throbbing heartbeat in her privy parts. Squirming on the stool as her passion increased, Pamela thought of Peter.
Her belly ached with wanting to feel his thick prick inside of her. She thought of him lying on top of her and in that moment, everything stopped. All sense left her as she called his name. “Peter, oh, sweet Peter.” Lucy held her steady as her body shook with desire.
Somewhere, in the sensual haze that surrounded her, Lucy softly murmured, “That’s good, miss. Think of the mister when you spend.”
Images of Peter swirled in her head, his cock, hanging thick and heavy. His shirt undone, exposing his chest. His eyes while he watched her. She burned with an unquenchable thirst for him.
Lucy supported Pamela until she quieted. With her usual matter-of-fact efficiency, Lucy restored Pamela’s camisole to its proper place and smoothed her petticoat over her lap. “Now, miss, we must see to your hair. You don’t want to keep the mister waiting.”
“No, Lucy, I certainly do not want to keep him waiting.” Lucy finis
hed Pamela’s hair and helped her into a dark purple evening dress. “Did all of my crates arrive today?”
“Yes, miss, they are in the back hallway. I’ll be asking Jack to open them up in the morning.”
“Splendid. I hope I have enough room for everything.”
“I’ll see to it, miss. There is room for another cupboard if we should need it.”
“Lucy, I don’t know what I would do without you. Thank you.”
“Miss, I enjoy being in your employ. You and the mister have been awful good to me.”
“I’m pleased you want to stay here, Lucy. We are quite fond of you.”
As Lucy fastened Pamela’s necklace, they both heard Peter’s door open. He knocked. “Pams, are you ready for dinner?”
“Yes, Peter. I’ll be there in a moment.” With one final glance in the looking glass and a squeeze of Lucy’s hand, Pamela opened the door.
“You are exceptionally lovely this evening, Pams.” When he saw Lucy standing inside the room, his tone became more formal. “Won’t you accompany me to the library? I believe we have time for a glass of wine before dinner.”
“I would be delighted.” Pamela slipped her arm through Peter’s. They walked together down the stairs as though they were entering a grand ballroom.
Pamela sat on the sofa while Peter poured them each a glass of wine. “Pams, I have a bit of news to tell you.”
“What would that be?” She noticed Peter seemed serious. “Is everything all right?”
“Nothing to be alarmed about, but I do have to leave London for a few days.”
“Peter, why?”
“I received the annual report from Samuel Lamton today, along with a letter. Do you remember him?”
“Of course I do. He is the solicitor Papa appointed as the resident agent of his estate in Gloucestershire.”
“He has asked me personally to tend to matters of some import that have arisen. I am taking the train on Sunday to meet with him. I may be there all week, depending on the outcome of my review.”
“Peter, what has happened that demands so much of your time? That property has always been self-sustaining and profitable.”
“I am surprised you would know that.”
“It is my land, isn’t it?”
“Yes, of course it is. But I have never known you to show any inclination toward your business affairs.”
“You have always sent me the reports!”
Peter chuckled. “Yes, I had to, by law. You are the owner until you marry. However, I never thought for one moment that you read them.”
“What a bloody pompous thing to say! Of course I read them. I have studied every single report you sent to me, and in fact, have on occasion, discussed them with others.”
“Is that so? And who would you trust with the private matters of your financial affairs?”
“Richard Pankhurst. He is a barrister who knew Papa. I have had correspondence with him, and his new wife, Emmeline. They are good friends.”
Peter looked into his wineglass for several seconds before he spoke. “Pankhurst is a radical in the Liberal Party, Pamela. He is notorious for his activities there.”
“Peter, his ‘radical activities,’ as you call them, are the best chance I have of keeping the inheritance Papa left to me. He is trying to change the law, so that if I marry, I do not forfeit to my husband everything that is rightfully mine.”
“So, Pankhurst is the one who has educated you about property law. Pamela, I will protect your holdings. That is why I am making this trip.”
“Peter, have you suddenly gone deaf?” Pamela stood and paced across the room. “As the law now stands, the moment I marry, my husband controls my holdings. You cannot change that. Richard is advocating changing the law, and is on the very brink of doing so.”
“And if he succeeds?”
“Only then will I consider marrying.”
Peter swallowed his entire glass of wine in one gulp, and went to pour another. “You also lose everything if you leave my guardianship before you marry. Your father saw to that detail.”
“I know.”
“So, if Pankhurst fails in his mission to change the law, you intend to live with me until your hair turns grey?”
“It seems those are my options. Now, are you going to tell me why you have to go to Gloucestershire?”
“Lamton tells me he has been approached to lease the rights for collieries. There is a large vein of coal running through the property, extending from the adjoining estate. They cannot mine it, because the vein cuts a path directly across your property.”
“Peter, that land has always been farmed. If I recall, one section of it is leased to a man who raises Cotswold sheep.”
“You continually amaze me, Pamela. You are correct on all counts.”
“You were not going to speak to me about this decision?”
“Before any decision is made, I have to speak to Lamton and audit the accounts.”
“The last report you sent to me showed the profits from the land up from the previous year. I have not seen the current report you received, but the indications were that the land would prove even more profitable this year.”
“Yes, and—”
“Peter, do not condescend to me! I understand the implications of this decision. Unless there is a loss reported on the books, I want the land to remain as it is. I do not want it mined.”
“My dear, you do not have to convince me. I am inclined to the same decision. However, Lamton sees it differently. He is convinced that the collieries are necessary.”
“But why, Peter? How on earth can he justify that recommendation?”
“That’s what I’m going to find out. Something is amiss there. I have a suspicion he is being offered a handsome sum to convince me to allow the mining operation to proceed.”
“And what will you do if that is the case?”
“No doubt dismiss him. I need…” Peter paused and studied her. “Correction, we need to have an agent we can trust to oversee the property as we want it managed. If that is not this chap, I will find someone else. That is why I do not know how long I will be there.”
Pamela set her glass down and came up to him. “Would you have informed me had your decision been to mine the land?”
“Before this conversation, I would have to say no. Perhaps I would have mentioned it after the fact, but I would have singularly made the decision.”
“And now?”
“It seems your education is much broader than I could have imagined. I expect I will involve you as much as you care to be involved. However, I would expect you to defer to my considered opinion on matters where we disagree. I have managed your holdings for six years. There are many things of which you have no knowledge.”
Pamela put her arms around Peter’s neck. “What I do not understand, you will explain. I learn very quickly.”
“I am counting on it.” Peter set his glass down beside Pamela’s. He held her tightly against him and kissed her, with passion beyond any he had ever known. She returned his kiss, with her own passion meeting his.
Pamela broke the kiss. The thickness of his organ pressed into her side. “Peter, please, let it be tonight. I want to be with you.”
“Pams, I have agreed to what you have asked of me. But it will not be tonight. The first time only happens once. I want it to be special, to be a memory you will hold in your heart forever.”
Tears welled up in Pamela’s eyes. “You are leaving on Sunday. If I can’t be with you tonight, at least let me come with you to Gloucestershire.”
“This is not a holiday, Pamela. I must have my wits about me to properly conduct the business at hand. There may be some unpleasantness before it is all settled.”
Pamela wiped the tears from her face. “You are absolutely correct. I would be a distraction.”
Peter caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. “I am pleased you understand.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier, but I do unde
rstand.” Another tear slipped down her face. Peter brushed it away with his thumb.
“Tomorrow, we are going shopping. I know of a shop that imports the latest fashions from Paris. We will be sure to pay a visit.”
“Peter, dresses are not what I want. You are what I want.”
Peter smiled. “This shop imports more than dresses. I understand it is where the most sought-after courtesans purchase their lingerie.”
“Now, how would you know that?”
“Word of mouth, of course. How else would I know?”
“If we walk in there and they address you by name, I will expect a full explanation.”
“I will keep that in mind. Now, shall we see if May is about to serve dinner?”
“Peter…”
“Yes?”
“When you return, will you promise me you will not make me wait?”
“When I return, we will see if you still feel as you do tonight. If that is the case, we will take the appropriate action.”
Pamela kissed him on the cheek. “I will hold you to that.”
“Something tells me I will fancy being reminded of this promise. But you must promise me something as well.”
“Anything, Peter.”
“While I am gone, you must consider the consequences of this liaison. Rumors about us are already spreading. The longer you live in my home, the more scandalous it may be perceived. I also expect you will wish to marry eventually. You will not have your chastity to give to your husband.”
“Unless, of course, I marry you. No one would speak ill of us if we are married.”
“Pamela, get that thought out of your foolish head this instant!”
“Oh, pooh! Emmeline married Richard. She tells me they are expecting their first child. There are twenty-four years between them. There are only thirteen between us. Why couldn’t we marry?”
“They are hardly an example to follow, Pamela. Your father wanted his daughter to marry into a peerage. That is where you shall find a husband.”
“We will see.” With that, Pamela gathered her skirt and went to check on dinner.
Peter followed her into the dining room just in time to see her disappear into the kitchen. A few minutes later, she came in carrying a tureen of oxtail soup.