“Now to the vow…”
“I’ve signed it, haven’t I – that is enough!” Quinton had to give a bit of fight all the way.
“Vows must be said, before man as a witness, and before God!” Father Hannah commanded and carried on, starting with, “Do you take this woman...”
“Bloody hell! Yes, yes – mutter anymore and I shall run from this hall shouting like a madman!”
Each of the men savored being present, they were in heaven, doing a deed they each relished – to them, the most perfect revenge. Father Hannah turned his attention to Suga, “You, pay attention! Do you – take this man, Quinton Thaddeus Caine, to be-…” Cutting him off, Quinton grabbed her arm roughly, shook her a bit, and harshly ordered her, “Say yes! Say it, just say it! So that I may be done with it.”
“Yes…” She immediately squeaked, her mind spinning, her ears popping, wondering what was going on? Never in a million years would her mind believe that she had just married him, a white man, this was not possible. Yet… what was happening?
With his lips curled in a snarl, Quinton had to feel as if he would get in the last word, “It is done-…”
“Not quite.” Father Hannah smiled, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce, that you are hereby man and wife. You may now, kiss your bride.” The four witnesses burst into laughter. Suga stood dumbfounded and wide eyed.
“Laugh – laugh all you bloody well like, I am no less of the aristocracy and you are no less the common bloody peasants that you are! Think I care? Don’t look so smug, as I said, it was never my intention to entertain thoughts of a wife – now or ever – thanks to the lot of you, I need not worry over the matter! You’ve done me a favor!”
They did feel smug, as their smiles showed.
“Are we now dismissed?” He asked sharply.
Before Father Hannah could speak, Richard McKinney spoke up, “There is the matter of consummation, after all – you’ve had the wench all this time, without touching her, so you claim – the marriage is not a marriage true, without consummation!” Quinton glared at him, “What are you saying?”
“To be sure the marriage is binding; there must be a deed done to see it completed; otherwise, who is to say, you might somehow try and wriggle out of it.”
Quinton’s eyes shot to Father Hannah, “Surely you’re not suggesting…? You – a man of God, would condone such a request.”
“As a man of God, who am I to argue with his process? Is it not He, who through creation, gave man, and woman the means in which to become husband and wife?”
“I will do no such thing!” Quinton blasted.
“Is it not so, that at one time, it was the tradition of your king to be granted the right of deflowering the virgin on her wedding night?” Henry J. Bancmen stated with lust filled eyes, “Therefore, it cannot be too unfamiliar to you, that perhaps if you are unable, one of us – or myself – are more than able to see the job done.”
“What you speak of is barbaric!” Quinton felt his face flame, his head spin with what he knew they wanted; even father Hanna had lust in his eyes, “If you are – unable.” He agreed. He had no choice, he could see that now, or see her raped by one of them. It had gone further than he had wanted, but there was no way out of it.
“If I must be cursed with the burden of a wife, an ill chosen one at that, I will be damned before another will do the deflowering!” At the same time that he prayed for God to forgive him, he turned, dragging her behind him towards the table he had at first stood at before them, going to the opposite side, he slung her to it, bending her face down, trapping her in place by the back of her neck, ignoring her whimpers of fear; tossing her skirt up over her back, he tore her bloomers from over her rear and using his feet, forced her legs apart.
In that moment, he found himself, once more in the dark place that he hated, considering himself just as mad; just as barbaric; just as animalistic as they, because knowing what he was about to do, gave him a throbbing erection. Opening his trousers, he released himself behind her and spread her further.
“Please… no…” She cried in terror, her face turned from all, her cheek pressed into the top of the table.
“Silence!” He barked. He had to silence her, or else he might not be able to go through with it, and he could not let one of them dare touch her – because they would, he knew they would. He inserted his middle finger and immediately felt her tightness, her hymen. He knew it would hurt her; grabbing his throbbing length, he rubbed his head into her heat, needing a bit of moisture to penetrate - there was not near enough for what he must do – he had little choice but to force her to take him as she was – the deed would not be easy, because he was above average and tightly swollen, supporting the base of his length he shoved forward meeting with tight resistance, and with little choice – he drew back a little and pushed forward once more, hard and deep.
A muffled scream sounded out from Suga’s throat, she couldn’t help the anguished squeal as she had clamped her lips shut, biting them closed with her teeth; the sound forced its way out as he thrust more powerfully, forcing himself all the way – deep within her virgin body.
The room swam around her, she wanted to faint, she wanted the floor to open and swallow her – anything that would take her away from what was happening to her. Suga was not a crier, she hardly ever let tears fall from her eyes – life was as it was and there was no sense in fighting it. But something about Quinton doing this to her, hurting her so badly, before those men, broke her heart – washed her in humiliation – made her feel, once more, that she was nothing more than a slave, a whore, a fancy – she fought to hold back her tears.
Breathing hard, Quinton stopped, feeling her tight around him, feeling angry, ashamed, he pulled free of her – the deflowering done; he would not ejaculate within her before them – God help them all if they dare try and make him.
In that moment, he could easily have killed them all, and truthfully, maybe even himself for what he had done. He ripped a portion of her bloomers, wiped her virgin blood on it, as well off of himself and released her; pulling her skirt back to cover her.
He finally looked up at them; each of them had lust filled eyes from the deed. He closed himself back within his breeches, lifted the bloody rag, “Here, it is done! She is now – my – wife!” Slapping the cloth to the table, he grabbed her once more, and practically dragged her from the building.
Because they could be following him, because someone, anyone could be watching, the rough treatment of her continued. At their carriage, he clamped his hands about her waist, launched her unceremoniously up to her seat and turned from her, refusing to look at her; afraid of what he might see he kept his eyes straight ahead. On his side, he quickly climbed on board, picked up the reigns and snapped them to get the carriage moving.
Neither said a word.
Suga sat trying to catch her breath, shifting to ease the burning pain below, trying to make sense out of all that taken place; in all the time she’d been with Quinton, she could not think of one time with him anywhere, that he didn’t have something to say to her; now – leaving the town hall, not a word. In truth, she was frightened; did this mean that everything had changed? Would he now, start treating her as her mother’s master, treated her?
Her head spun with so many thoughts while between her legs, she throbbed and burned with discomfort from him entering her body so forcefully, it pulsed so, it felt as if he were still deep within.
She could still hear their laughter.
She could still feel the terror that shot through her, because for a moment, she thought they would all have her, have her right there, with Quinton going first. She could not think on what had taken place, or what any of it meant, because none of it made any sense to her way of thinking.
Even though it appeared that he might have married her, she did not believe for a moment that they were married and that this man next to her, Quinton Thaddeus Caine, was her husband.
All that she knew is t
hat something had changed.
Quinton was trying to fight his shame, the disgust he felt about himself. He racked his brain trying to think of a better way that he could have gone about things; another way – a way that would not have made him stand before 5 despicable men and rip through Suga’s young body. He’d taken her, taken her in a way that made him wish to weep with shame – he felt sick; ill inside, because his entire life, he’d wanted to heal – help – care – see to those who could not see to themselves. While he would defend himself and those he loved, his family, he had never in his entire life, deliberately reached out to do another person harm.
Because of that, the last person he wanted to hurt was Suga. Not only had he hurt her, he’d defiled her, he’d treated her as they would have treated her – and yet, all within him knew, that if he had not, they would have done something to her, something far worse – to hurt him, to disturb him – if they for a moment thought, that he had what they would think were unnatural feelings for her; thus the gamble, so far, they thought of the act they’d committed as the ultimate strike against him and the elite.
Never in a hundred years would they believe they’d done – exactly – what he’d wanted them to do, force him to marry her. He had known there was no other way for the problem to be resolved. There was no way he could have ever given her back, even for a night – and it had nothing to do with the vow he’d given her, the promise he had made.
He could not give her back, because the thought of not having her near, in his home, safe - living as they’d become accustomed to living, did something strange to his stomach, his entire system. Thoughts in his head of never seeing her again, of not knowing if she were safe, and smiling, made him feel strange in a way he had never experienced before. Since Suga, his system was plagued by an illness or a panic he could not live with happening to him; this illness started by getting to know her and each day together, it had grown more powerful, gripping him more intensely.
Now, it triggered discomfort when she was not around, when he could not find her, did not know if she were safe. If his body felt such discomfort from just not being able to find her; what would it do to him if he lost her completely? He wouldn’t even entertain the thought.
Long as she was there, with him – the affliction left him alone, he could breathe, he could think, he could work, he could eat, he could function like normal. Suga was the cure – so he must have her in his life – and would do all – good or bad, to make sure – the vows he made were met – that she was by his side, until the day he died.
Nervously he pulled into the drive of their home before the barn, even now – they could both hear Moose barking from inside the house, he knew that they were back.
Before he could mutter a sound, she was off of the carriage, running across their yard for the kitchen door and into the house.
A moment later the door came open and Moose came bounding out, barking and looking for him. Suga was not with him.
“Here boy, happy to see us? Happy to see you.” Quinton stroked his head, scratching behind his ear, looking towards the kitchen door, then the window, in hopes that she would be looking out at him; shaking his head, he chided himself for such a stupid thought. She was now, as frightened of him, as she once was of them all and that he could not let continue. He turned to taking care of their horse and carriage, giving her ample time inside to do whatever he thought she might need to do.
Inside, Suga went straight to her room, removing her garments and putting on those she wore around the house. Taking her pitcher to the kitchen, she poured hot water for herself from the kettle they kept full by the fire, she then filled it with cold and put it in place to heat up and took the bucket that sat alongside two others, back to her room. There, she stripped down again and knelt in the big round wash tub, mixing cold with warm; she cleaned her private place, wincing from touching where she was tender; feeling fresh once more, she dressed. Later after all was done, she would sit and sew herself a new pair of bloomers to replace the torn ones.
Because of her fastidious nature, the earlier event did not stop her from doing the things she had made it her duty to do, refusing to neglect her duties, she carried on with her contributions, while Quinton had never forced anything on her, she knew her place. In the midst of getting her home in order and preparing his meal, she came to the book she had been reading, looking at it, tears filled her eyes, and wiping them away she picked it up and walked with it back into Quinton’s room, his study.
She stood a moment, holding it, stroking her hand across the cover of it, with a sigh of acceptance, she walked to the bookcase, placing it among the others – pushing it into the space it belonged and turned walking away; deciding, that reading, was nonsense for someone like her.
An hour later, she was in the wood store, chopping shavings off of a log for the fire, when she heard the kitchen door open and Moose rushing in excited, looking for her. He found her sitting on the stool she used and immediately started licking her face, “Stop that, know I’on like that! Gone out’ah here.” She pushed him back. He whimpered and lay at her feet, making sounds to get her attention; wanting her to pet him. She couldn’t think about him right then, because she was listening for what Quinton was doing, now that he’d come into the house. She had two rabbits turning on the spit, bread baking in the oven - smelling up the house, turnips and greens in the cook pot. She thought, maybe he was standing at the fire, trying to get warm – wondering when he could eat? The day had started out cool, but the way the clouds were building, it was getting colder, it could snow any day.
She couldn’t for the life of her make out what he might be doing in the kitchen, he was awfully quiet.
She was soon done with the shavings and had no choice but to come out of the wood store and back into the kitchen; he was sitting at the table, morose, staring into the fire.
Still unsure, Suga murmured softly, “I – I fix yo’food for you soon - won’t be long now.” She gulped, nervous to face him.
He turned from staring into the fire to her. His eyes looked in a way she’d never seen them before, staring at her as if tortured. He was swallowing, his Adams apple bobbing as he struggled with the lump in his throat. Finally his arm unfolded upon the table towards her, his hand out, palm up, with the gesture of his fingers, he called her to him, “Suga… come to me.”
Swallowing repeatedly, her hands wringing nervously before her, she stepped hesitantly toward him; stopping midway of the table.
“Closer Suga, come closer – please.”
Now that they were back, the man that he had been earlier, at the hall, was gone. This man, the one who gazed at her now, was the Quinton that she knew, yet – she could not be sure of anything anymore.
She bit into her bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth to moisten it and taking a deep breath, whispered, “I’on want – you hurtin’ me no more Quinton, I do what you say, you ain’t got to hurt me – I – I do whatever you want.”
Tears immediately filled his eyes at her words; one moment he was in the chair, next she knew, he was on his knees crawling to her, grabbing her skirt with each hand; pulling up on his knees to wrap his arms around her, squeezing her hips and palming her buttocks, his face tight to her stomach – he held on tight. “I’d sooner die – die – than hurt you once more as I have this day. I have prayed that God forgive me, now – I pray you – I beg you – Suga, forgive me, please – forgive me. I had to do it – or die a thousand deaths watching one of them – I could not, I could not – please…”
He pushed away, holding on to her skirts looking up at her, “… I had to say those things, treat you that way; the choice was not mine - I could not give you back - Suga, I could not. I took a chance, I had to risk all to have you here now – tell me that you understand?!” He pleaded.
“Don’ want you on no floor like that, get up now – gone, get up. Stop this foolishness, I ain’t nobody you got to crawl to, all I want-…”
He shot to his feet, cutti
ng off her next words, grabbed her to him and for the first time, gave in to what he’d been wanting to do from the moment his heart betrayed him by handing his soul over to this amazing fancy, that was now, his wife.
His lips locked onto hers, kissing her, moving over them to work them wide so that his tongue could enter. He inhaled the smell of her with every breath that he drew, the taste of her with every draw and suction of his mouth on hers.
Suga held on, and did what she thought he wanted her to do, opening her mouth to him; kissing her so she felt her heart would burst from her chest.
Chapter IX
Light headed, dreamy with wonder Suga never knew such feelings; she should be afraid of him but could not find her fear – it all seemed to vanish the moment he grabbed hold of her. She didn’t understand it at all – but what she did know was that the feeling he gave her was moving throughout her body and it felt amazing. She stood being kissed and wondered once more, was a fancy supposed to be in love with her master; with her owner? Her mother had said no. Yet, Quinton had said that he was neither; regardless of his claim, that idea was hard pressed into her and it wouldn’t be easy to let go. Whether he be master, owner, or just Quinton – in either case, he was the one man, she would endure all for. As he stood kissing her hungrily, thoroughly; this time, she had her arms around him; holding on tight so that he would know, despite earlier, she was pleased to have that attention from him. She would not deny him anymore; she would not hide – not after that day. When he left that town hall, he had her with him, that was all that mattered to Suga, that she was free to be his – and that was all she wanted to be, Quinton’s Fancy. He finally broke the kiss, because they both needed to breathe, he held her, resting his forehead on hers, “I must wait, give you time – after what I’ve done, I could not possibly put you through it so soon, not after that.” He gasped, holding her tightly, rubbing her back gently.
The Fancy Page 10