The Fancy

by Mercedes Keyes

  “Emmm…” She whimpered, spreading her thighs for him, moving against his seeking fingers that rubbed and teased her, finding her swollen and hungry for him – he could not wait; he was only human. “I cannot bear a moment more of this.” He gasped, moving over her leg to position himself between her thighs; there he lined himself up, pushing at her entry, spreading her tender folds and pressing to penetrate.

  Suga cried out because she was still sore from earlier, but in no time, his thick length was sunken deep, swollen, stretching her to accommodate him; his lips rained kisses upon her face and neck, as his body was swept away with riding her; having built up such a hunger, a longing, a need, he could not get control of it, he pumped hard and deep, rubbing against her small nubbin, he pressed himself to rest; to give her a moment, but his need forced him into stroking more intensely.

  Biting her bottom lip, Suga held onto him and tried to meet his powerful thrusts, pulling her thighs up, crossing her legs over his buttocks, she felt a strange sensation, a heightened tingling that was spiraling from the center of her nubbin that he kept grinding against, before long, she was pressing against him, rocking beneath him, stroking with him to increase that feeling until it started growing on its own, expanding at a maddening speed that was piercing her to the core of her womanhood; something felt as if it erupted, exploding so that she cried out his name, over and over with her lower body jerking and bucking wildly beneath him, snatching hold of his abundant sex to suck and pull him in deeper – locking him in place until he too exploded – climaxing along with her, he groaned as his body purged itself, emptying all within her.

  Breathing hard; Quinton lay braced above her, kissing along her ear, the side of her neck; glorying in the feel of her hands stroking up and down the center of his back; nuzzling below her ear, “Aye, now – you are truly, truly mine.” He murmured. Sleep did not stay with them long that night with Quinton wishing to repeat the act twice more; as for Suga, what Quinton wanted, Quinton could have, she would not deny him.

  Chapter X

  Having been in a deep sleep, Quinton’s eyes suddenly opened with him murmuring, “Sarah…”

  Suga lay peacefully in his arms; she’d been awake for a while thinking about a name for herself, but didn’t wish to move from such a heavenly spot. Yet, the sound of his voice and the name he called out made her glance up from his shoulder, “Sarah?” She asked.

  He smiled, kissed her brow and rose naked from their bed to show her what came to him in his sleep when at the same time Moose began having a fit to go outside.

  “We shall continue this upon my return.” He winked and promised, slipping on his trousers and stockings to let the animal out. Suga rose from the bed with the sheet to her chest looking around for something to put on. She would not dress because she needed to bathe after a night spent making love. Shrugging her shoulders, a contented smile playing about her features, she wrapped the sheet around herself and made her way downstairs to heat water, shivering at the chill that met her there; so it would seem, their day had begun.

  They sat at the kitchen table, watching the heavy fall of snow outside, after breakfast. Before Suga – the bible; Quinton had just finished reading several passages of it to her concerning Abraham and Abraham’s wife – Sarah.

  Finishing with, “I dreamt that we were home, back in England and I called you, Sarah. Also, Sarah is Hebrew for, Lady – or princess of the multitudes.”

  She sat back, blushing, giving it some thought, and leaned forward looking at the name in the bible, seeing it written there, realizing that she could read it. Suga smiled and nodded, “Yes, I like it.”

  “Sarah, it is then? Sarah Caine.” He informed her.

  Chewing the corner of her lip, thinking about it, she admitted she'd thought of one she liked as well, "Can I have two names, like you?" Quinton smiled, "Most certainly."

  "I like Sarah, and Abigail."

  He tapped the tip of her nose, "Lady Sarah Abigail Caine. I like it, and that my wife, you shall be."

  Suga sat back, looking and feeling lost; already a ball of nerves, the palms of her hands covered the cheeks of her face in dismay, “Oh Quinton, I’on want nobody-…”

  “Ah ah ah, stop – think – say that again properly.”

  She sat thinking about it, and once more stated, “I do not wish, to be addressed, in that…. uhhh … manner.”

  He smiled, caressing her cheek, “You are my wife now Sug-…” He smiled, correcting himself, “Sarah, they will address you that way, or feel my wrath!”

  “Nooo Quinton.” She complained.

  “Yes, absolutely.” He insisted.

  “I’m just a slave.” She moaned.

  He banged the table with his fist so hard, Moose sat up at attention, “You are - not! Do you hear, you – are – not! I will get that nonsense out of your head if it is the last thing that I do! You will learn to read, fluidly! You will learn the proper manner in which to speak, and you will speak without hesitation! You will walk with your head high, shoulders square, and eyes direct! I insist, do you hear? I expect nothing less than what I know you can deliver! Do you understand?!” He pressed firmly, refusing to budge.

  Head down, Suga nodded.

  “Sit up straight, look at me, look into my eyes.”

  She followed his orders.

  “You are not, common. You are not, a slave. You are, Lady Caine! When you hear that title, or if you hear the following, they all apply to you. They are madam, which will come from some servants and others would address you as Your Ladyship or even, Lady WhistHirst, Countess of WhistHirst, all apply to you now – that is who you are and that, my wife, is who you shall be! In this – I will not give, there shall be no compromise – from this moment forward – Suga, the slave, the fancy – exists no more!”

  If she thought he tenaciously rode her before, he did so doubly from then. Day in and day out, all through the day, reading, writing, pronunciation; how she was to walk, how she was to stand, how to curtsey, how to nod, how to greet, who were the monarchy, in what order they came in, how one addressed each; how to write a letter of invite, how to sign her salutation; how to address her servants, who of the servants were in charge of what, and what were their titles.

  On and on, the more he gave her to learn, the more frightened of it all she became. There was a particular order to a place setting at the dinner table, because they didn’t have all of the utensils present, he used various items in place of the real ones to teach her their uses until they had the real things. For a large dinner party, she was in charge of arranging the menu and what was to be served first; thus she must learn which piece of silverware was used first. At a large table, the importance and status of the guest dictated where they sat at the table.

  For Lady Caine, all that she must learn came to her in form of nightmares that quickly replaced all others she once had.

  She had had no idea how much of a difference there was in being a servant and being of the elite class with all of their social graces.

  All manner of rules came into play surrounding proper etiquette, protocol, conversation and address.

  Her only respite came when he took Moose out for his walks. Even though he regarded the dog as hers, he treasured the animal just as much. From her place at the window, she observed many conversations between him and their pet. Yet, when he returned, back to the drawing board of all the things that she must learn, the one thing that brought her pleasure was learning to dance. For this, Moose learned early on to head for the hallway or risk being stepped on.

  Humming a familiar tune, Quinton showed her the proper steps of two popular ballroom dances. She giggled a lot through them, causing him laughter as well – keeping them fun, they danced together each evening, with Quinton watching her form, making sure she kept her neck straight and high in the midst of it, making sure that she learned to address him before the servants formally as, My Lord and he would address her as, My Lady. Those times, when he stood beside her, holding her h
and high, leading her in the steps she would take, Sarah did indeed feel like a grand lady – because Quinton treated her as one. She had never known this incredible thing that he did daily - existed for someone like her – he called it – respect. As he danced with her, he assured her that all that knew her would treat her with the utmost respect; respect of the lady she was to him. To Quinton, she was that and more, she deserved it, like no other woman he had ever known and would accept no less than that from those of his household.

  Days flowed, one into the other as more snow fell, all was quiet in their little corner of the world and then, a couple of days before Christmas they heard wagon wheels rolling into their yard over crunching snow and the snort of a horse with Moose barking at the kitchen door non-stop. Quinton had been happily making a cocktail for Sarah – for her to try for the first time while she’d been busy the previous two weeks making ceramic stew pots for all of the people they’d treated, she wanted to deliver them with her very best baked breads and their own custom mixes of tea and tinctures.

  The tea and tinctures were more important than anything; they were filled with various herbs to help them cope with winter. She’d woven carrier baskets to place each of the items in ready for delivering. They’d planned to drop off the food gift packages to all those they’d treated, as a gesture of good will from them both. To their happy surprise, one of the gift baskets could be given immediately as Quinton opened the kitchen door for the Murray’s.

  “Well well well, what have we here?!” Quinton’s greeting was boisterous, filled with joy as he welcomed them in – he’d been drinking and was to the brim with exuberance.

  With Moose by her side, Sarah stood back by the hearth with a broad smile on her face, stroking the animal’s ear, just as surprised as Quinton that they were there, especially considering all the snow that had fallen over the previous few days and the cold temperatures.

  Smiling, stomping the snow from their feet, Ellen and Erwin entered; she carried their infant son, Erwin carried a basket of goods for them.

  “My wife decided that we should go visiting – you two were at the top of our list; in fact, you were the only ones on our list.” Erwin grinned, laying the goods on their table; Sarah took their capes, winter articles, smiling graciously; “You beat us to it, we were preparing to do the same.” She returned, carrying their things into the next room. They both immediately noted the change in how she spoke, looking at each other and then at Quinton. He was smiling broadly, happy, on top of the world.

  “As my wife, Sarah Abigail Caine – stated, as you can see lined against the wall – we have much to deliver, that basket is yours.” He pointed theirs out and looked to Erwin, “Drink?”

  “Yes, please.”

  When Sarah rejoined them in the kitchen, Ellen looked at her and nodded, “I like it – Sarah fits you. You are certainly a Sarah – kind, gentle, caring and graceful; how very nice to meet you.”

  Sarah, looked toward Quinton and then back to Ellen, giving her an accepting nod of her head, and with squared shoulders, direct eyes, she smiled with a greeting in return, “I thank you for that; it has been my pleasure to meet, and to know you as well. Have a seat, is he sleeping?”

  “Yes, peacefully thank the heavens.”

  “Here, let me take him, he will be in this room – close enough to be heard, should he awaken.”

  Ellen nodded, handing him over to her; when Sarah disappeared down the hall into the room, Ellen turned to Quinton. “My, what a difference.”

  “Yes, my wife has done well; this is good for her, to build her experience in dealing with people, once we arrive in England-…”

  “No… you’re leaving?” Ellen exclaimed, looking from Quinton to Sarah who was back.

  “I’m afraid so – it is best for us both to make our home in England. While this is indeed a free state, I fear that Sarah would always be in danger of someone trying to take her back into slavery; especially now that all know who I am – I have nightmares of someone harming her, to get back at me.”

  The young couple could see it in the way that he spoke and treated her, his marriage to her had truly been out of love, what else could explain it?

  “When?” Erwin asked.

  “Spring,” Quinton answered, “I expect our entourage to be here by then…” He looked towards Sarah, holding his hand out to her, surprising her; she stepped close, taking his, her face burning from his show of affection. “…upon their arrival, we will depart immediately.”

  “Oh no, you two are the only friends that we have.” Ellen complained, hating the idea of them leaving.

  Erwin nodded in agreement, “She’s right. Because of you two, we were happy to have settled here.”

  Quinton pulled Sarah in under his arm, gazing into her eyes, “Seems to me, we’ve created a problem for them; any suggestions?”

  “Such good friends, we should take them with us,” Was her suggestion. Quinton nodded and turned back to them, “Well? What say you to that? I assure you, there is more than ample space to spare.”

  “Pack up all and go to England?” Erwin considered, and looked at his wife, whose head titled in thought. “Could we?” She asked him.

  Erwin’s eyes went from her to Quinton, “Are you serious?”

  “Loyalty in friends is more valuable than gold. My wife and I need such loyalty – aye – I am very serious. What skills and labor you planned to use here, can just as well be used there. My estate is in need of ones such as you; we shall travel light – bring what you treasure; what holds meaning for you; leave the rest, it will be easily replaced.”

  Erwin turned back to his wife, she was smiling and nodding, chuckling, Erwin stood with his brandy in hand, “Your Lordship, we shall certainly take you up on it.”

  Sarah went to the table for Quinton’s drink, handing it to him, so that both men could raise their glasses and with a toast, the agreement was made. The men departed to speak of men things and planning, while smoking and drinking in Quinton’s study. Moose decided to join them, leaving the women in the kitchen to talk and finish the baskets.

  “Lady Caine, I am at your disposal.”

  Sarah’s surprise was instant, “No, not Lady Caine, Sarah, please.” She murmured low, not wanting Quinton to hear.

  Ellen smiled, “Do not reject your deserving title; besides, I might as well accustom myself to addressing you in that way now, if I am to dwell in England on your Lord’s estates.”

  Sarah dropped into a nearby chair trying to cope with her new way of thinking, with her eyes meeting Ellen’s, she expressed her fears, “I am not meant for this.”

  Once more, she spoke low, Quinton would be angry to hear her.

  Ellen sat across the table from her, smiling sympathetically, she began to explain from her point of view, “You do know, that there are African rulers, kings? That there have been African queens, leaders?”

  “Quinton has said, yes – I know and yet-…”

  “Stop – Sarah, Lady Caine – he chose yo-o-ou; You – to be his Lady. Nothing else matters.” She paused to let that sink in, reaching across the table, she lightly patted Sarah’s hand, finishing with, “In truth, all that matters – is that you become, what your husband has chosen you to be. You have no more to learn, than I would - had he chosen me, or another woman of this village, white or not. While I know of the royals, while I know of the elite class, my life was spent in travels with my parents. They are explorers, scientist; they study man. Erwin worked for my father, was constantly on hand to construct whatever structure he might need, wherever we settled during his travels. So the many etiquettes and graces common to them, I have missed.” Once more, she paused to let those words sink in.

  Sighing, Sarah nodded and said, “True, yes, perhaps – yet, there is still one difference that will always be seen first.”

  They both knew what she was saying.

  “Only at the beginning; everyone judges at first sight. They only need a moment, to watch you; to hear you; to get
to know you. Know this – after that time has been given, your one difference will fade.”

  “Trust me when I say, this idea, this new way of thinking, this new order and structure, was beaten into your people, forced into them to believe this place you’ve been given. It is a place made up by men who are guilty of a monumental injustice to their fellow man. This place was not made by God. Your husband, Lord Caine, has taken your hand and said, not you – not you – you do not belong in that place. Believe him Lady Caine, believe him.”

  “Got no choice-…” Sarah blushed, taking a deep breath, “What choice have I?” She corrected herself, “For reasons I cannot possibly know, I was given to him.”

  “Yes, you were and – he married you.”

  “Only because he had no choice.”

  Ellen sat back, shaking her head and smiling, “Lady Caine, I’m afraid in this, you are wrong. He had a choice.”

  “No, it is only because he gave his word to me, that he would keep me always, they made it impossible-…”

  Cutting her off and shaking her head still, “He – had – a choice and he made it. Silly goose, his choice had nothing to do with honor, or your knowledge of healing, his choice was because he loves you. He is, in love with you. There was no other choice in this for him. Just as I had no choice but to leave my parents in marrying Erwin, I love my husband, I would follow him anywhere, I long to fulfill his desires, love – takes away choice.”

  Sarah sat thinking her words over. Yes, she knew that he had affection for her; and because he was a good man, he treated her well; because she made things easy for him to do what he desired most, thus, he made sure that he could keep her; he made love to her because all men must give into that beast that makes them need to have a woman for their bed.

  But love? No…

  White men did not love their wenches, there was no need to love them, they could simply have them and that, was that.