In the following days, Fiona found Lowell continued with his changed behavior, not one unkind word, not one pointed comment, not one degrading reference to her former station in life. He was almost pleasant to be around. Certainly more pleasant than the other brothers, with Nigel constantly grumbling and out of sorts, and Galen off in his own world. If he could be trusted, Lowell would be far better company for her than the others.
It was an uneasy truce he’d initialed, but a truce nonetheless.
When Joshua came back, he was delighted to find his wife so happy, and so well occupied. The garden was taking shape in the most amazing way. As he gazed at her progress he was impressed by her natural inclinations with foliage and flowers. She had a unique sense of beauty, though that didn’t surprise him, considering her own startling loveliness.
“You’ll be happy to note, that even Lowell and I are getting along,” she said, when the two retired to their bedroom his first night back. “He actually apologized to me for his earlier rudeness.”
“He did now?” Joshua looked at her surprised.
“Should I be suspicious?” she asked.
“No, not all, just grateful. Lowell hardly ever apologizes to anyone, for anything. Perhaps you’ve had the same good effect on him, that you’ve had on the rest of the estate.”
“Oh, how’s that?” she asked.
“It’s been a banner season, crops doing well, the animals strong and healthy. We’ll have some good profits.”
“That’s wonderful! So I suppose you’re glad you’ve returned here?”
“I am,” he said, yet there was a little reluctance in his answer. “Sometimes Fi, I miss the cottage. Do you?” he asked.
“Oh, heavens yes. It was our little haven, just you and me.”
“Well, this is our haven now, and your garden. We’ll certainly have to use it well tonight, since I’ll be gone tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow!” she exclaimed, this was the first she’d heard of another trip.
“I’m afraid so, and this one will be at least a week. You think you can live without me that long?” he asked.
“Oh! No! I’m sure I can’t!” She sat down on the bed with a petulant pout on her face. She crossed her arms and looked at him sideways, very unhappily.
“Fiona, these are small prices to pay. I’ll be home soon and then for good, at least for a while,” he tried to assure her.
“I don’t like this part of our life,” she told him adamantly, her brow furrowed.
Joshua moved slowly toward her, not planning to spend his one night home fighting with her. He sat down on the bed beside her, and pulled her close to him, and then on his lap. “Do you like this part of our lives?” he asked. He was pulling at the ties of her blouse, so that it opened and her breasts would spill out.
“You’re changing the subject,” she said, a little annoyed.
“And if I don’t we’ll argue all night and miss the opportunity to use this bed as it is intended.” He said no more, but buried his face between her breasts and planted dozens of kisses across her flesh. She resisted the advance at first, but it was beginning to have such an effect on her, that she couldn’t help squealing with delight, and at least for the moment, she forgot his impending trip.
Chapter Twelve
It was six days into Joshua’s trip, and he should have been coming home the next day. But a messenger arrived to let the household know that Joshua would be delayed another week. Fiona hated the thought. Her body was bursting with need, she’d even had to pleasure herself in the wee hours, when she awoke too aroused to sleep at all. She’d slipped her fingers between her legs, finding her cunt alive with a need, that a few brisk rubs of her fingers brought to a climax, while her mind burned with thoughts of her husband suddenly coming home to her in the middle of the night, and taking her away for a lusty ride on his cock.
The need to pleasure herself however, only made her more irritated with Joshua. His earlier attentiveness to her physical needs had made her used to him satisfying her daily. She didn’t know how she could stand it without him much longer. Certainly, what she could do to herself was not at all as good having a ripe hot erection between her legs. The reality of his absence was making her fiercely angry.
“Are you a little piqued, Mrs. Kane?”
Fiona heard Lowell’s voice behind her, as she was pruning the rosebushes in her garden.
“How did you guess?” Fiona said. Strangely, Lowell was the only brother that was paying much attention to her at all, and strangely he’d noticed her irritated mood.
“It is not hard to see the change in your lovely face,” he said. He was drawing close to her, as she stood up and looked him in the eye.
“I have no reason to be unhappy, Lowell, but I do miss my husband.”
“Certainly,” he agreed, readily. “A woman of your passions would find it difficult to be without what I’m sure is a constant pleasure to you.”
Fiona was uncertain how to take the man’s comment. It was missing the jibing tone that characterized his early remarks to her. And the way he stood so close, he was almost comforting.
“My Fi, it looks like you’ve been wallowing in the dirt again,” Lowell added, picking up a lock of her red hair in his hand, noting the dirt caked at the end.
“I guess I have,” she said.
He was standing far too close for comfort, and he didn’t let her hair go, but gently caressed it as he might caress her cheek.
She found herself nervous and flustered. It was a dangerous feeling racing through her. She turned away quickly. “I’ll be fine, Lowell. I just have to get used to my Joshua’s absence.
“I doubt there would be way you could get used to that,” he said flatly. “But if I can keep you company … “
“Thank you for the thought. I’ll just have to try.” The lonely sulking redhead went back to toying with the rosebush.
Fiona’s rage was not appeased by time, something all too dark was welling within her. She ate with it, slept with it, and managed to get through the next few days, still feeling abandoned and loveless with Joshua gone.
One evening, Fiona found herself in the back hallway of the house, simply pacing the floor. When it was dark, the garden could be no comfort and the monotony of the evenings was more than she could stand. She stared out the window at the estate grounds, bathed in moonlight, a starry canopy making the night hardly seem like night at all. It was the kind of sky she would like to enjoy with Joshua at her side. Though it only made her more angry that he was not at her side.
But the, before she was even aware of it, Fiona felt a hand on her waist, a warm and comforting hand; and without having to turn around she recognized its owner, Lowell, by his distinctive brand of tobacco and soap.
She jumped, though the hand stayed fast, and then she felt his lips descend on her neck. His breath, the wetness of his mouth, and then tender hands that were gently moving about her waist and her breasts.
“Oh please, no, you mustn’t,” she begged him. But he didn’t reply. Instead, turning her around she was in his arms, as his mouth was descending on her mouth, and opening it wide for a rapturous kiss.
The kiss was so unlike Joshua’s, though it was no less avid; his hands traversed places his hands never should have been. And yet, for the longest time she was not pushing him away. The physical closeness was so endearing, so unexpected, it all seemed so innocent perhaps. That was what she told herself the first instant of their passion, when her body seemed to take charge and her lips kissed him in return, and her hands reached out to surrounded him willingly.
He was reaching into the bodice of her dress, fondling a breast, about to pull it free. She felt his hand on her nipple, pinching it between his fingers ever so slightly. Just the hint of pain suddenly startled her.
She came to her senses and pushed him way.
“No! I will not!” she vowed, and she fled quickly to her room.
There was the trace of a smirk on Lowell’s face, the last thi
ng that she saw. Had he done this deliberately to dishonor her, to prove that she was nothing but some common floozy, unworthy of her husband? That smirk, that awful smirk. How could he! How could he think that she would succumb to such a trick! And yet, she was all to close to giving in. She shook her head. No. No. She never would, she had to be certain of that. But despite the way her mind argued for her virtue, she still had that doubt.
Her loins were hot, which made it all the worse; and she had to hold herself back from toying with the hard bud between her inner lips, as thoughts of Lowell’s fine caresses played furiously in her head.
Allowing herself to feel guilt instead of pleasure, she cried herself to sleep that night, thinking of the indiscretion.
***
From that night on, Fiona refused to speak to Lowell as long as Joshua was gone. She made certain that she was not alone where he could sneak up on her unannounced. She went so far as to invite Mr. Stubbs into her garden to work with her, until Joshua returned. All the while, her days were spent filled with anxiety and regret.
When Joshua came home at last, it was unexpectedly, during their evening meal. She’d rushed to the door to greet him when she heard his voice. It was her hope that they would simply dash upstairs to be alone in each other’s arms.
After a long lingering kiss, he pushed her back. “Ah, I can see what you need, lass, but first, I’m starved. It looks as if it’s a good time to come home.” He smelled the stew at the table, and taking her hand, they walked into the dining room together and took their chairs.
The meal was strange from beginning to end; there was so much to tell her husband, and sly looks from Lowell to avert. She had no idea what the horrible man was thinking, but she’d not have him return to his surly ways and hint to Joshua about her grand mistake. As quickly as she could after dinner, she claimed her husband for herself and dragged him to their room.
“Out with it!” Joshua said, when they were finally alone.
“Out with what?” she asked, wondering why he would assume she had something to tell.
“I can see the worry all over you, lass. You were nervous and snappy at dinner. There’s something bothering you, is there not?”
Fiona had no idea how to tell him her tale of woe, how to frame that horrid event in the upper hallway. But she was certain by Lowell’s odd looks that she’d better bear this news to him herself, before his brother’s well placed remarks would reveal her crime.
“I fear you know me much too well,” she said.
“And well, I should,” he said, staring at her. “Out with it.”
She bit her lip, but that did no good, “I’m afraid, sir, I have something to confess.”
“What is that?”
“Your absence weighed on me heavily, my darling, I missed you so.”
“Yes. But that’s hardly a confession,” Joshua said. He was sitting on the bed, pulling off his boots, and reaching out to bring his wife close to him, but she pulled back out of his reach. He looked at her sternly, realizing that there was more to this revelation.
“I was thinking, I told you before that Lowell and I were getting along better. I don’t know what happened, sir, but the other night, I was pacing the hallway, thinking of you and how much I was missing you, especially in bed. And all of a sudden, I found myself in Lowell’s arms, his mouth planted on my lips, and his hands pressing their advantage.”
“You what!” there was an instantaneous anger across his brow. “Is this true!”
“He was kissing me,” she said, in a halting tone. Her boldness moments ago was fading away watching the reaction that was brewing in him. “I swear, I did not ask for it, but it just happened. I’m afraid he’ll tell you I encouraged him. And I admit, at first I found his hands welcome. Just his arms were so warm. I thought he was some comfort with you gone, but never in that way. When he pushed hard to seduce me … no, not seduce … when he tried to unclothe me, I pushed him away. I vow that’s all that happened.” She was in tears seeing her husband’s face, afraid that all the love she was looking forward to that night would be withdrawn, perhaps withdrawn forever.
His look was devastating, filled with indignation and anger in such quantity that Fiona had no idea what he might do with it. “I swear, I did not ask for it!” she repeated, a little more loudly than before. She didn’t want to look or sound guilty, after all it was Lowell that had advance on her.
“And did you feel some passion well in you?” he asked.
“Passion yes, only because I was thinking of you so strongly. But desire for Lowell, no! I did not!” she charged.
“And I can be assured of that?”
“It startled me at first, and I couldn’t react. But once I came to my senses, I pushed him away, and ran.”
His eyes were dark, snapping wickedly. She’d never seen him so angry.
“You don’t believe me, you think I’m the whore that Lowell thinks I am, but I am not,” she declared adamantly. “And I will not have you thinking that about me.” She was overcome by her own emotion, and finding no way she could continue to look into her husband’s angered face, she turned and fled the room, not stopping until she was out the back door and dashing rapidly to her garden.
The garden was cool, as was the night. Fiona was chilled with no shawl about her shoulders, though her anger would keep her warm enough. Of that, she had an abundance.
She sat on the crumbling bench, held up on one corner by a block of wood the gardener had brought, until a new stone piece could be found to fit there. It was quiet, there was the sound of crickets and little more.
After a time, and it seemed a very long time, she heard someone moving into the garden with her, though she could not see who it was until they were upon her.
It was Joshua.
There was still the same dark scowl on his face, as when she’d fled the room, though at least half the fury was gone. What remained was simple darkness, and a nameless feeling transmitted from him to her.
Joshua pulled his wife to her feet, feeling the same deep pulsing within her that was in his own loins. He pressed his lips over hers and demanded a wide open kiss. He tore at the top of her dress, she could hear the rip of the fabric as his strong hands dispensed with the garment so he could have her, one breast in each hand, squeezing them firmly.
Ah, ah no,” her little cry escaped her lips.
One yank, and her whole dress was at her feet in a soft pile, and she was naked, having worn nothing else.
Joshua’s hands were all over her, penetrating her everywhere, claiming her with ruthless intention. He pulled at her cunt, pinched her nipples, kneaded her bum roughly, then surrounded her with his arms. Two hands fixed on her ass, pulled the two sides apart as he held her fast to him, so she could feel his pulsing cock under his clothes. He was hurting her in a strange way, because it was hurt that felt good. She reached out to knead his body with every ounce of the fervor he was using on her.
His own britches disappeared next, and his thick cock was shoved between her legs, not inside her to begin with, but there to taunt her.
Then, he flipped her around, so that she was bent over, her palms resting on the stone where her bottom had been just moments before. Then he pressed the head of his penis at her cunt door and shoved hard. Reaching around he held her breasts in his hands as he thrust back and forth inside her anxious excited body. A thrill like lightening was shooting through her, the sensations were so rough, and yet welcome. She would have allowed this for hours if that was what he wanted, but it was only a short time, because he was burning hot with need. However, rather than spew his cum in her cunt, he pulled out of her, turned her around as he pushed her down between his legs on the cold hard ground and offered her his thick prick, a welcome home gift, that she gratefully lapped with an earnest tongue, until it shot his seed into her face where it dribbled down her chin, to her breasts.
When Joshua caught her eyes in the moonlight, he saw the tears.
Only then was his anger
truly fading; and seeing her wretched expression laced with an anger of her own, he pulled Fiona from the ground and encircled her with his arms.
“I should never have trusted him, Fi, can you forgive me for allowing this to happen?”
“Forgive you?” she asked. Still thinking that it was Joshua that needed to forgive her.
“Can you?”
“I never thought it was necessary, but if you can forgive me … “
“We were both foolish to trust this place,” Joshua said. “But be certain it will not happen again, Lowell will not bother you ever. You are mine, lass, and no others.”
“I’ve not wanted anyone else, I swear.”
He believed her and she him, and by the looks of Lowell’s face the next day, his younger brother would believe him too.
Joshua spent the rest of the night pleasuring all of Fiona’s unpleasured places. He vowed not to miss even one. While she lay back in the downy comfort of their bed, he made certain that his wife would not be left wanting, her passionate needs should never be ignored. He knew that for certain.
Chapter Thirteen
The summer remained a good time for Fiona, with her garden to quell her anxieties, keep her busy and provide a luscious place to spend a private afternoon with Joshua. It made the estate almost tolerable. Only when there were gray days, and the rain pelted the ground was she unhappy. Even then, Fiona would sometimes slip off to the secluded spot; Joshua more than once found his wife coming in the house dripping wet, after she’d spent a hour or two letting the cool summer rain douse her.
“You’re a foolish girl,” he said in a distinct warning tone, listening to her sneeze after one such excursion.
In the Forest of the Night & The Barmaid and the Blacksmith Page 21