by Allie Borne
Leaving her eggs untouched, Lindsay dashed past her husband, but was stopped by an arm around her waist. He dragged her back, pulling her into his lap, despite her annoyed struggle. “I require a kiss and a demonstrative show of your undying gratitude.”
“Ugh!” Hastily, Linnie wrapped her arms around his neck and showered him with kisses about his face. “Thank you, my kind and benevolent Master. As you have provided me with servants, I shall service you, later.”
“Ho! Ho!” he laughed at his clever young wife. “How witty you have become with your bedroom talk. I shall have to keep a tighter reign on you, my saucy wench!”
Struggling to get free, she scurried out into the entryway, eager to meet her new helpmates. Within a matter of moments, Bernard opened the door to Dorothy and a girl of not more than twelve.
“Dorothy! Are you here to serve as my abigail?”
“Aye, M’Lady, if you’ll have me. I would like to serve one Mistress, for a change. Dress making has proved very tiresome of late.”
“Then we are well met, as I am in dire need of your assistance, as you can see,” indicating her hair and gown. “And who is this you have with you?”
“This is my daughter, Molly. Molly, make your curtsey to the lady. Molly hopes to be your new chamber maid.”
“Oh, I see. Have you any experience, Molly?”
“Aye, M’Lady. I ‘ave been cleaning the rooms at the boarding house and the dress shop these two years past.”
“How old are you?”
“She is nearly twelve, M’Lady. Too young, by half, I know, but my husband passed on three years now and we have had to fend the best we can.”
“Yes, I can see that you have done so. Molly, we can certainly use your services. As your mother must share her bed with the chamber maid, this arrangement should work well. I will be expecting an hour of each day for you to come and read with me, Molly. I expect all of my staff to be literate. Do you agree to these terms?”
“Aye, M’Lady. I would so love to learn to read and scribe. I will work hard. I vow I will not disappoint you.”
“Thank you, Molly. I am sure we will work well together. You should follow your mother into the kitchens for breakfast. Are there any others?”
“I am sorry, Lindsay, but the cook we hired, Mrs. Brown, must remain with her employer another week. It seems her mistress will not now be leaving her residence until next Sunday, when her son arrives to escort her to Stratford,” explained John.
“Oh, well, I suppose you will all just have to suffer through my cooking for one more week,” Bernard responded dryly.
“John, do you mind helping Dorothy and Molly with their luggage? I will show you upstairs to your quarters and by the time you finish your breakfast, Betsy will be in the kitchen to go over your routine.”
Thus having dispatched the newcomers, Lindsay descended to Charles’ study and let herself in. Engrossed in his ledger, Charles did not look up. Lindsay bent to strip her stocking from her leg and dropped it before him on the desk.
Looking up, Charles grinned mischievously. “I have a feeling you do not intend to let me commit the sin of working on the Sabbath. Let me see. You have something in mind that involves the removing of stockings?”
“Aye, my love, the removal of all of our clothes, I would wager.” As he leaned to gather her in his arms, she stepped back, out of his reach. “I intend to go swimming in our pond and I do not wish to wait. Will you force me to wait, Sir?”
Lindsay had knelt in front of her husband’s seated form. Looking up at him, she marveled that she had ever considered him average compared to other men. This was the man who had made her childhood bearable. Through his challenges and instruction he had kept her focus upon improving herself and not upon her family’s odd dysfunctions.
Charles’ hazel eyes glowed amber in candlelight and toffee in sunlight. His angular cheeks and sculpted shoulders, his dimpled smile and ever-ready wit were hers to have and to hold. She peered up at him, the old adoration gleaming in her eyes.
“Get dressed,” he sighed down at her, his face grave but his eyes laughing. “We must at least look the proper Sir and Lady, out for a ride.”
Seeing her face light up in delight, Charles was spell bound. How could this sweet, intriguing lady have ever deigned to fall in love with me?
As Lindsay rose to depart, she paused at the door. “Charles?”
“Yes, Linnie?”
“Thank you for Dorothy.”
She slipped out before Charles could respond. “Thank you for you,” he murmured to her receding footsteps.
The ride was blissful. Once they reached the pond it took them only a few short moments to relieve themselves of their clothes and splash into the water. Doc and Diamond grazed happily as Linnie and Charles raced towards the wooded side of the pond. Charles was impressed at how Lindsay’s skills had improved. She could nearly out swim him. He would have to remedy that.
Their love making upon the bank of the pond was rapid and desperate. Both came to the other needing reassurance. As Charles pushed his length into his wife again and again, he lost himself, lost his restraint. She clung to him, wrapping her slick legs about his hips and calling out his name horsely again and again.
“Charlie,” she cried. “Yes, please, Charlie.”
When he came into her, she rose to meet his release with her own. His first rational thought, as he lay spent upon her small frame was, Please, God, let her breed. Let my seed take root so that she might never leave me. Out loud he whispered, “Please, never leave me.”
Stiffening, Lindsay looked up into Charles’ face and questioned, “Why would you say that?”
Charles knew that his fears were not unwarranted. Not only did Lindsay still believe that he was willing and capable of abandoning her in her time of need, she had always been a bird of flight. She dealt with all of their arguments by avoiding him. Even now, as she lay docile beneath his rasping bulk, he could imagine she was thinking of visiting her sister, of going to London for another season, of leaving this place for a while.
Charles knew that if she did not receive enough stimulation, she would not be happy. If she sensed the least bit of distance between herself and him, she would panic into flight. Soon, I will have resolved my responsibilities to the Bonnevilles and be able to devote my attentions solely to my own family, Charles thought. To her, he said, “I know you, Linnie. We have married quickly and have had a rocky start to our marriage. I worry that something will happen that will cause you to want to run. I want your assurance that you will not.”
Placing her hands on his chest, she pushed him from her and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. “Is this a lack of faith in me, or in your own ability to keep your wedding vows?”
“Neither. I simply want your vow that you will come to me with your problems, and not run to your family.”
“Might I have a reason to wish to run, Charles?”
“I know not. I only have a feeling...Do I have your word that you will come to me?”
“Charles, I don’t know how to respond. I want to say yes, that I have learned the hard way that it is foolish to run. But I also feel as if you have not been completely honest with me. I do not wish to make a promise that will prove me sorry. If you were to break your vows to me, I do not feel as if I could stay. I do not wish to be handled by the men in my family, as if I have no say in my own fate.”
“Lindsay, I am your husband. Your safety and security is my responsibility. You have to trust me to take care of you.”
Sensing her withdraw into her own thoughts, Charlie decided that the conversation could keep for one more day. Sitting up, he began pulling on his stockings. “I have to go into town tomorrow to meet with the banker. Is there anything I might fetch for you?”
“No, but I have written Leah a letter. If you could post it, I would be grateful.”
Their ride back was tense, disquieted as they were by their own thoughts. “Let us go up through the music room, to avo
id making a spectacle of ourselves.” Charles interjected into the silence, looking at Lindsay with one eyebrow quirked. Tension breaking, they both laughed out loud at the absurdity of their appearance.
“As you wish, Charlie,” Lindsay chuckled. Then, looking up at the profile of the manor house, she stalled her horse’s gait. “Oh, no! I completely forgot about David Blane!”
“Who?”
“David Blane, Betsy’s lief, is a gardener. Bobby left to persuade him to come for an interview and here are their horses, in front of the house. Oh, he will surely think us mad and leave. Look at me! I have pond scum in my hair!”
“Lindsay, he is a gardener. We choose him, not the other way around. Now, where do you propose we keep him, if he does decide to accept the position?”
“In the tack room, until he marries Betsy, that is.”
“I see. As with any man, he little realizes his fate has been predetermined.”
“Please, Charles, for Betsy’s sake, be serious!”
“Very well, for Betsy,” he said, clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders. “Proceed!” Charles gallantly waved Lindsay in front of him.
Linnie rolled her eyes at his sarcasm but felt pleased nonetheless. Not waiting for Charles, Lindsay dismounted Doc at the front of the manor house just as Bobby walked David around from the vegetable garden.
“M’Lady, this is David Blane. Mr. Blane, Lady Donovan.”
Lindsay’s eyes roamed across the broad face and round body of her potential new hire, coming to rest upon the broad hands holding his doffed hat. They were good, capable hands. They were hands that would keep a body safe and secure; add to that the flash of a bright blue eye and Lindsay could see why Betsy might wish to wait fifteen years for this man. She grinned as he introduced himself.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, My Lady. Bobby here has been showing me the grounds. He says you are in the market for a grounds keeper and says you might be interested in employing my services.”
“We hear that you come highly recommended. Is that true?” Charles asked politely, nonchalantly smoothing the wrinkles from his shirt front.
“I have left my past employer with letters of reference. For the past five years I have worked for a large commercial estate in Bath. Before that I was an assistant grounds keeper for nigh on ten years at a grand estate in York.
“I find myself ready to return to my place of birth, to settle down. I hope to find a position that gives me the ability to do so. I was hoping to take a position somewhere as head gardener. After seeing your grounds, I take it I might be the only gardener, should I take the job.”
“That you would be, David, at least until next spring. The position is a daunting one. The lawns need cleared, the garden landscaped, and the fences repaired and maintained. I shall expect the cook to maintain the vegetable garden and help with the fruit trees. I shall endeavor to offer Bobby and the stable boy’s aid whenever possible, but for now, you will be left to your own devices. What do you say? Are you up to the task?”
“Yes, Sir Charles, I will take the job. I have a vision for this place, it seems strange to say it, but I feel as if this is the place I was meant to leave Bath to find. The old place seems to welcome me.” Shaking his head, as if he could not quite make sense of it himself, David replaced his tricorn hat. I shall just need to gather my things from my friend’s home. I have my own horse for transportation but my equipment is in a trunk.”
“Say no more. I shall send Bobby with the carriage after the noon meal tomorrow. Give him your friend’s address and he can pick you up there. Would you like to see your accommodations?”
“Aye, I would.”
“Bobby, fetch Betsy Thomas, so that she might show Mr. Bane about the tack rooms and cottage.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Seeing a dumbstruck look upon Mr. Bane’s face, Lindsay couldn’t help but inquire worriedly, “Are you quite well, Mr. Bane? You look unsettled by something.”
“Oh, yes, Miss. It was just the name, Betsy Thomas. I had a sweet heart in my younger years by that name. It is a common enough name. It just took me back, is all.”
“Why you clod, it is yer old sweet heart, me aunt, Betsy. I thought you’d know that, seeing as how Bakersville’s such a small place, I hardly thought I’d need to tell you.”
At the bright pink blush peeking behind the stubble of David’s beard, Charles felt he must intervene, if the man were to retain at least a bit of his dignity.
“If you are in need of any landscaping tools, please do no hesitate to ask, Mr. Bane. I hope to see you on the morrow, good day to you.”
Lindsay and Charles left their horses tied to the front post for Bobby to tend and entered the house. Sneaking up to their room, they were startled by Dorothy.
“Oh, Sir, My Lady,” Dorothy curtsied quickly and picked up her basket. “I was just looking over my Mistresses’ wardrobe, and gathering what needs mending. I shall leave with my pile straight away. Might I sit with my needle in the green room, Mistress? The light in the attic is not so bright.”
“Yes, of course, Dorothy. I prefer you have free rein of the house, excepting when we have company.”
“Oh, thank you, Mistress. I shall not make a nuisance of myself.”
“You are excused, Dorothy. I will call for you when I need you. I do believe I would like a bath tonight.”
“Yes, M’Lady,” Dorothy backed from the room, her face still slightly flushed, and Lindsay sighed.
“I had forgotten that with servants one loses privacy. Ah, well, I shall gladly surrender some for a nice hot bath.”
“Well, my little hedonist, shall I play lady’s maid? Someone must undress you and brush out that bog of a mane.”
“Yes, do, please. Then I shall sponge you off and redress you for lunch. I am ravenous.”
As Charles stripped her down, he dampened a cloth in the wash tub and cooled her flesh with long, leisurely strokes. Seating her, naked upon the bed, he carefully release her hair from the myriad of pins. Beginning at the bottom, he carefully worked out each tangle. His delicate ministrations sent tingles through Linnie’s abdomen and between her thighs. Each tiny tug on her scalp felt as if he touched that soft flesh.
Lindsay, moaned, languidly aroused, despite her soreness from the morning’s activities. She tried to turn to him, but he denied her the pleasure.
“Your hair must be put to rights, Linnie. Do try to behave,” Charles chuckled.
Sitting obediently, she endured the sweet torture until, at last her hair swung in soft waves down her back. Standing, she swayed her hips enticingly as she glided to the wash stand. Wetting the cloth, she returned in the same manner, her breasts and hips moving in a most palatable display of womanhood. She licked the corner of her mouth, pleased with the desire she saw burning in his amber eyes.
Pulling him to his feet, she ran the cloth in a curve across each well-defined pectoral muscle, along his broad shoulders and strong fore arms, up and down his muscled back, to the narrowing of his waist. Collecting more water, she allowed some to trickle across his hips. Droplets gathered, running down into the soft hair surrounding his man hood. Charles shivered in anticipation as Linnie kneeled to cup him. Carefully, she washed him, wrapping the cloth about the stiff member, she stroked him. Tentatively, she placed her mouth where the cloth had been, kissing and sucking the head of his staff. Groaning, he pulled her up and tossed her onto the bed.
Charlie did not wish to hurt her. After their vigorous love making just an hour past, he feared that she would tear, were he to penetrate her in the same manner. Turning her upon her stomach, he pulled her hips toward him, so that her luscious apple bottom was vulnerable to plunder.
Sticking one finger and then two into her moist opening, Charles stroked his love until she rocked, flushed and wet with passion. Encircling her center with his erection, he wet himself with her honey and thus slick, slid himself slowly inside. The new position inflamed him. She was tight and he could fit his full shaft
within her.
Grasping her firmly about the hips, Charles moved himself fully in, then slid out, leaving only the tip of his sex within her. Waiting until Lindsay cried out for more, he moved within her again. He repeated the motion until she sobbed for her release. Thus appeased, Charles drove himself into her, managing her bucking with a tight hold upon her hips.
This time, her orgasm came quickly, outpacing his own. Feeling her strong spasms about his shaft, Charles lost control, riding her in deep fast strokes, he called out “Linnie, Oh, God, Linnie,” as he exploded within her. Gently, he rolled her onto her side and pulled her legs up in a fetal position. Curling himself around her back, he wrapped his arms about her waist. “You will be the death of me,” he whispered raggedly in her ear. She shivered as her overly sensitive skin rippled at his touch.
Charles hoped that by keeping his seed within her thus, it might take root and grow. He dared not speak such thoughts to his young wife. He knew she wanted children but his desperate longing to set his bird nesting was a selfish, self-serving wish. His wish for a family stemmed from his need to keep her. Short of clipping her wings, a baby would keep her here, or at least, keep her coming back.
Chapter Twelve- A Fall from Grace
“There pipes the woodlark, and the song-thrush there
Scatters his loose notes in the waste of air.”
~Thomas Gray, 18th Century English Poet
The rest of the day passed pleasantly. As Charles holed himself in his study, John and Bobby worked on patching a hole in the roof. Betsy readied the tack room for David, and Lindsay surreptitiously began cleaning out the master bedroom with the help of Molly and Dorothy.
By cleaning the closet first, Dorothy was able to press and hang Lindsay’s few gowns. Bobby, being pulled into service to hang a bar and build a door, was unable to help John with the hole in the roof. Bernard, therefore, stepped in, mumbling something about burnt soup.
By the end of the day, the room was scoured and the closet complete. By tomorrow, the furniture would be moved in and the room ready to reveal. Lindsay had personally worked with Dorothy on the drapes. She would use the bed cover she had sewn for her bridal trousseau. Dorothy and Molly could help her white wash the room as soon as Charlie left. If all went well, it would be dry by noon.