by Louisa Neil
“You need to learn the wines,” Gaston told her, “but first you must learn not to overdrink. Small sips only,” he told her.
“And always with food,” Stewart added.
She didn’t know how long they lingered over the meal, only that the men made her laugh at the stories they told her of people who drank too much and tales of life on the boat. She felt relaxed and safe and asked the question on her mind.
“Will we have…sex tonight?”
“No.” Stewart sounded firm. “We’ve decided since your birthday is at the New Year we’ll wait until then. Phoebe told us you were turning twenty-two. How did you manage to stay virginal until now?”
“I always worked in the nurseries.” She glanced to each man. “I learned to stay away from the rest of the workers at the workhouse as much as possible. It didn’t do to make friends and lose them when their time came to leave. I believe they mostly forgot about me as long as the babies were quiet, and that was why I was allowed to stay as long as I did.”
“Smart girl,” Stewart said aloud.
“Just surviving,” she whispered. “Most of the women there didn’t like me because I’d been chosen as a private nanny. When the family moved and I came back, I was put directly to work with the children. It was a coveted position, and some felt I took their place.”
“It was just that you were more experienced,” Gaston told her.
“I agree, but in a place like that…” Bettina hesitated, not wanting to bring up bad memories, but found herself continuing, “especially since my time at Phoebe’s was worse.” She had to believe this new life would be better. She still couldn’t believe they didn’t want to have sex with her. “Are you sure about no sex? I was under the impression you paid for my services.”
“Yes, in a way, but we’ll wait a bit longer. When we’re home and settled we’ll avail ourselves of your services.” Gaston nodded to her.
“Oh.” Suddenly she was disappointed and nervous at the same time. “Do I not fit your needs?”
Both men laughed, but Stewart answered, “While we’re at sea we’ll use this time to get to know each other.”
“I figured you’d want what you paid for.”
“Bettina, we understand your upbringing has been unconventional, but this is a new life for all of us.” Gaston reached his hand out and placed it over hers. “We’re not customers at Phoebe’s now. We’ll be a family.” He squeezed her hand. “Now tell me which books you looked at this afternoon.” He put a bit more wine in each of their glasses and sat back.
“There were so many it was hard to choose.” She looked to each of the men. “I choose Robinson Caruso today. When I was a nanny, I’d read the beginning and decided I should finish one before starting another.”
“A wise idea,” Stewart told her.
And so their evenings began. Each night they would sit at the table over their evening meal and teach her about wines. They talked about books and what Manhattan would be like. While they both touched her often, a kiss on the cheek or a hand over hers, they made no overt sexual advances. At first she was disappointed, then relieved. She understood they were trying to make her comfortable with them.
On the third day at sea she woke not feeling well. At first she thought it was the rough seas that the men warned her about. But it became apparent her woman days had begun. She was embarrassed but had no choice, so when Andrew came to wake her she confided in him. With a swift nod of his head, he disappeared, returning shortly with a stack of clean rags for her to use. Bettina knew her face was bright red but accepted the supplies he offered.
Over breakfast, she decided it would be best to tell the men why she wasn’t feeling well. “I have a confession,” she began while sipping her now customary hot tea. “I’ve begun my flow,” she said, not looking at either man.
“Do you need any supplies?” Gaston asked.
She shook her head no. “I asked Andrew for help,” she answered, using his word.
“Fine. If you don’t feel well, you’re free to rest or sleep,” Stewart added.
“I’m fine, just embarrassed. But I thought you should know if you decided to change your mind about your rights.”
“We won’t change our minds, but it will be over soon, and when we get home we won’t have to worry about it for a few weeks.” Gaston nodded his agreement with Stewart’s comment.
She was oddly relieved that she’d told the men. She knew such matters weren’t to be spoken about, but she didn’t see another choice under the circumstances.
“While we’re on the subject, you should know we’ll be using coverings when we’re together so you won’t get impregnated.”
“I see.”
“You sound disappointed,” Gaston noted.
“When you mentioned marriage, I assumed you wanted an heir.”
“Eventually,” Stewart told her. “But for a while, let’s just get to know each other. Babies can come later. You’re very young, Bettina. You’ll have your children in a few years.”
“Thank you for understanding.” She was excited that the men didn’t want her to have babies right away. She knew once she did, they’d view her differently, and for now she just wanted to enjoy the men, even if their arrangement wasn’t the norm.
“Do you know about feeding a baby?” Gaston asked.
“I know a baby feeds from a woman’s breasts.”
“Yes, it’s called lactating. After giving birth, some women use wet nurses, other women who feed their babies so they’re not inconvenienced.”
“I know. The lady I worked for had one. But I never understood why. I mean, if it’s my child, why wouldn’t I want to nourish it?”
“Some women don’t like the sensation.” Stewart sipped from his wine.
“I don’t know about that,” she whispered. “I saw a woman once. She was at Phoebe’s, and when she gave birth, she gave the child away.” She glanced at her hands in her lap.
“Go on,” Gaston prompted.
“Well, it’s not a subject I think I’m supposed to talk about.”
“Between the three of us, we can talk about anything.” Stewart dropped his hand over hers and drew it back to the tabletop.
“It’s just that I know some of the men paid extra to drink from her.”
“Some women enjoy being suckled,” Stewart said.
“I got the impression that it was a taboo.”
“Only if you don’t like it.” Gaston leaned closer. “When you’ve had a bit of experience, you might find having your nipples sucked on pleasurable.”
“I know some of the women did. I just didn’t know it was proper after giving birth unless it was to nourish a baby.”
“Anything we all agree upon together is proper. As long as we keep it between the three of us.” Gaston sat back and watched her.
Bettina felt her face heat yet again. “But I don’t have milk like she did. I thought you had to have a baby to have milk.”
“Not necessarily.” Stewart sat forward and looked directly at her. “Some women like it so much that after a while of their men suckling, they begin to give milk automatically. It gives them a new kind of pleasure.”
“You mean down there,” she whispered.
“Yes. It’s called an orgasm. Some women have orgasms from men suckling.” Stewart glanced to Gaston and back to her. “Time will tell. Now tell us about what you read this afternoon.” Bettina decided that was his way of ending that conversation.
The rest of their time on the ship she experienced her flow. It was uncomfortable, but she was thankful it would be over soon after they got to her new home. For the rest of the voyage, they would meet for an early meal and she’d stroll the decks with the men when the weather allowed. The rest of the day she rested and read. At night, they shared a meal and taught her more about wine and living in a new place.
What surprised her most was their promise that on their next journey, they’d take her with them. That she would spend time in Boston with her me
n, too. It was a nice dream, even if it never happened. In reality, she decided that no matter what happened she was still better off with Stewart and Gaston then she would have been if left with Phoebe.
* * * *
Manhattan was a magnificent sight as they sailed into her harbor. There was so much to see it was overwhelming. She was glad they’d arrived at dusk, when everything shimmered against the water. Bettina still couldn’t believe she’d actually made it this far. Every night when she had dropped onto her cot in the small room beside the men’s main cabin, she was afraid when she woke in the morning it would have all been a dream. Yet here she stood at the bow of the boat with Stewart’s arm wrapped around her waist as they approached the docks.
She knew from their shared meal last night that once they docked, she’d go with Stewart to their new home while Gaston oversaw the offloading of his cargo. He promised he’d be home for the morning meal and tell her all about it.
Her first steps in New York State were magical. So many sights and smells to take in, it was all a bit overwhelming. Yet she didn’t allow fear to enter into her mind, but rather chose to accept the experiences as the beginning of her new life.
There was a carriage waiting for them when they disembarked. They rode directly to Stewart’s town house. While she would have liked to see more of the city, she didn’t dare ask. She understood the men had a plan and they would let it unfold in their own time. For now, she accepted the newness with hope.
Their carriage pulled up outside a huge brick home. It had a small area gated from the street with iron fencing. Once through the gate, they walked up a set of stone steps to the large front door. The house was red brick, with white-painted trim and shutters. The front windows were covered with fine lace curtains, making patterns of light reflect on the light layer of snow.
“It’s…it’s the finest home I’ve ever seen,” she gushed to Stewart. The front door opened, and a tall, thin man dressed in a black suit nodded to them. Bettina decided he had to be at least sixty. She’d never known any person who lived so long. With Stewart’s hand on her back, she tentatively took the steps, pausing before taking the final one into the grand foyer. She knew the black-and-white flooring was called marble. There was a large chandelier of candles lighting the space.
There were doors to her left and right. On the right wall, a large circling staircase led to the upper level. She didn’t know what kind of wood the banister and steps were made from, only that they glowed from polishing.
“Good evening, sir. Welcome home.” The man took a step back and waited while Stewart handed him his hat and coat.
“Benton, this is Miss Duvall, Gaston’s niece we told you about.” He nodded to her.
“Bettina, this is Benton. He’s our home version of Andrew. If you need anything and Stewart and I aren’t around, you’ve only to ask him.”
“Miss, welcome to Jahan House. I hope you’ll be happy here. May I take your coat?”
“Yes, thank you, Benton.” She was a little embarrassed about the shabbiness of it but decided it didn’t really matter.
“Are our rooms ready?”
“Of course, just as you requested. Everything pertaining to your business is on the desk in your office.”
“Good. I’ll take Bettina up to her room and then come down to go through it. Please have coffee waiting for me and bring a pot of tea up to Bettina in her room. She’s exhausted.”
“Of course, sir.” He turned and walked past the staircase and through a back doorway.
“Come, I’ll show you your room. You must be exhausted. It’s late and it’s been long days on the ship.” Stewart eased his hand to the center of her back and escorted her up the grand staircase. At the top, he turned them to the right. She was amazed when he paused in the center of the corridor. “Gaston’s room is to the left.” He opened the door to show her a glimpse of a large bedroom with brown and gold drapes and spreads. Then he opened the one to the right. “This is my room.”
It, too, was large, but done in shades of blue. “It’s beautiful.”
“Thank you. I hope you’ll like your room.” He took a few steps forward and opened the end door, showing her the first glimpse of her room. There was a huge bed centered on the main wall with tables on each side. Under the window was a sofa with a table beside it. Across from it under the other window was a dressing table with a trifold mirror. What struck her most were the beautiful gold and white colors. Everything glistened around her.
“This is your toilette area,” he said and pushed in a door she hadn’t noticed. She only had to stick her head in to realize it was the most modern thing she’d ever seen. It had a huge, shiny white bathing tub and a mirror over a stand with a wash bowl. Tucked behind the door was a strange contraption. It looked like a chamber pot fitted into a chair. There was a wooden box suspended above it with a long chain. He stepped around her and pulled the chain. Bettina looked on in amazement as water came down a pipe and washed the pot. The contents drained into the bottom, out of sight.
“I’ve never seen anything like this.”
“Yes, it is quite a new concept. Very hygienic, we’re told. The servants will fill it with water each morning and empty the bottom, too. When you want a bath, just let Benton know and they’ll bring up hot water for you to bathe with.” He gave her a wide smile, obviously pleased with her delight at the new invention. “So, can you be comfortable here?”
“Comfortable? It’s like a palace! I’m afraid to touch anything.”
“No fears, Bettina. This is now your private room.”
“All this just for me?”
“Yes, just for you.” There was a knock on the main door, and Benton entered with a tea tray. He placed it on the table near the window and excused himself. “Now, enjoy your tea and get some sleep. Tomorrow will be busy.”
“Doing what?” she asked and realized how impertinent she sounded. “I’m sorry. Whatever you have planned will be fine.”
He smiled at her. “Tomorrow we’ll have the dressmaker come and take your measurements.”
“More new dresses?”
“Made just for you.” He took her hand and drew her to the sofa near the tea table. “Have your tea.” He walked to the dressing table and picked up a stack of material scraps. “Look at these tonight. Decide if you like any of them. Most important, decide which you don’t like.” He laughed and handed her the scraps. “Tomorrow we’ll go over your choices and decide from there.”
“Oh thank you, Stewart.” She didn’t want to gush at his generosity but couldn’t help herself.
“I’ll be downstairs in my office for a while but I’ll check on you when I come up. I hope to find you sound asleep.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Oh, before I forget.” He walked to the armoire and pulled out a long white linen gown. “You can sleep in this until we get you a proper wardrobe.” He handed her the soft garment and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Sleep well, Bettina, and welcome home.”
She was too overwhelmed to answer and tried to pull back the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks. Stewart left her and she stood in the center of the room, not believing this was truly all hers. Bettina stripped off her clothing and slid the linen gown over her head. It was clean and soft against her skin. There was a tie at the open neckline and another under her breast line. The long sleeves fell free at the wrist. She’d never had a sleeping gown before.
Then she went to the sofa and drank her tea while looking at the material pieces. They were all beautiful, except for a brown wool sample. It reminded her of the dress she’d worn at Phoebe’s. That one she put aside. The rest were all fine silks in beautiful patterns. There was one special one, a white silk that had flowers in soft colors embroidered across it. “This would be a lovely ball gown,” she said and laughed. “Maybe a wedding gown if Stewart decides to marry me someday.” She yawned and realized Stewart was right. She was exhausted.
Bettina walked to the bed and hesitated. It was all
too beautiful to spoil, but she pulled back the coverlet and slid between the soft layers of bedding. She was so excited she thought she’d never sleep, but the softness lulled her to relax.
Chapter Seven
The next few days were a blur for Stewart. Business had piled up while he’d been away. He found himself cussing the stacks of pages that needed his attention when he wanted to be spending time with Bettina. He made a point of seeing her each morning and each evening, trying to reinforce that they would have more time together when he was caught up. It had never bothered him before that work kept him busy every day. Since meeting Bettina, he’d become jaded to the work, wanting to spend time with her.
He knew she spent most of her days in her room, reading and resting. In the last days he’d seen a new, refreshed woman each morning and at each evening meal. He knew deep inside that she was confused. Neither he nor Gaston had the time to take her out to see the city yet or even to just walk with her window-shopping. It couldn’t be helped. This was his busiest time of the year, and he had commitments to fulfill. Hopefully after the New Year work would slow down.
He noted she never asked for more than she was offered. Never complained about the lack of social life. He decided she was just thankful to be away from Phoebe’s Gentlemen’s Club and Providence.
He put his foot down on Christmas day. Both he and Gaston stayed home and spent the day with her. She looked lovely in her new gown, and beamed at their attention. At one point, she looked out the window, and he knew she wished she could be out there with the rest of the world. Soon, he told himself, soon he’d present her as his fiancée, but not yet. Just when he was about to tell her so, she turned and cleared her throat.
“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had. But I feel bad I don’t have gifts for you.”
“You are our gift,” Gaston told her. She blushed at his comment and turned away.
“You’ve given me a new life, new home, and new clothing. I feel as if I should have something to give you back.” This time she didn’t look shyly away.