Letter Of Love

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Letter Of Love Page 7

by Virginia Henley

I hope you enjoyed this short story set in Elizabethan times. You will find all my books at my website https://www.virginiahenley.com

  Here is an excerpt from my novella Love And Joy, which is set in Restoration England:

  "Stop!" Joy Ashley cried, fleeing across the big kitchen.

  "Don't you mean: Stop, my lord?" corrected the young man who'd had far too much to drink.

  Astonished, she blurted, "You're not a noble of the realm!"

  "'Ods balls, Richard, there's insolence for you," drawled his friend Carlton. "A scullery maid with the airs of a lady."

  "I warrant a lady would be more forthcoming with her favors than this little baggage," Dick Humphries complained, cornering the maid once again.

  "Leave me alone!" she bade both young men in her sternest voice, knowing from experience it would do little good. They had come home for the weekend from the University, and had had more than their share of drink this night.

  "I only wish to share a little Joy with my friend," Richard said. "Where's the harm in that?"

  Carlton St. Clare laughed at the witty word-play on the little wench's name and moved across the kitchen to aid his friend. "And I want the same, to share Joy with Dick," he added lewdly.

  "You're drunk and disgusting!" Joy cried, spying her opportunity to push her employer's lecherous and spoiled son up against the hot kitchen oven.

  As she shoved him, he staggered back, more from drink than force, and though his knee breeches and heavily embroidered waistcoat protected him from the cast-iron oven, he did burn his hand slightly when he saved himself from falling. "Little bitch!" he hissed. "It's time you learned to respect your betters."

  "I may not be able to read or write, but that doesn't make you my better! A Cambridge education obviously hasn't turned you into a gentleman."

  Carlton roared with laughter. "She's right, old man, you can't make a whistle of a pig's tail."

  Richard made another grab for her and as she tore away from his grasp, the cloth of her much-washed cotton dress ripped apart, revealing a pair of deliciously tempting breasts. A foul epithet dropped from his lips. He glared at his companion, demanding, "Can't you help me?"

  "I'd rather help myself," Carlton drawled, suddenly realizing the little wench had a rare beauty.

  A plump figure immediately filled the kitchen doorway. "For very shame, Master Richard!" cried Bessie Bumble, the cook whose kitchen they were despoiling. "The little maid has bin on her feet for fourteen hours. The last thing she needs is to fight off a ravishing!"

  "Shut your mouth and get back to bed, old woman, if you want to keep your job here." Dick Humphries' tone was so threatening, Bessie Bumble stepped back in alarm.

  The two gallants managed to corner the maid between the pantry and the Welsh dresser that boasted a collection of pewter Joy had polished to look like silver only this morning. Her breasts rose and fell as she panted with apprehension. All she could think of was the knife drawer, but it was forty feet away on the other side of the kitchen.

  When Dick Humphries' hands took hold of her breasts, as if they were peaches ripe for plucking, Joy dipped her head and fastened her teeth into his thumb.

  "You shouldn't have done that, you little whore." With deliberation he tore what was left of her dress and petticoat from her trembling body.

  With a sob, Joy snatched off her mobcap and held it in front of her to cover her nakedness. The moment she did so, a mass of red-gold curls tumbled down about her shoulders.

  "Glory of God, she looks like Botticelli's Venus rising from the waves," Carlton St. Clare said with appreciation. "Since I'm your guest, Richard, 'tis only fitting I go first."

  "Not bloody likely, but you can hold the little wildcat for me, then I'll return the favor,"Dick said, fumbling with the front of his breeches.

  Bessie Bumble panted up the backstairs holding a shawl over her night rail with one hand and a fluttering candle with the other. She rat-a-tatted on the master bedchamber door, then tried to catch her breath.

  Presently, the mistress of the house, Hortense Humphries, opened the door and demanded. "Whatever is it?"

  "Oh, ma'am, ye must come down to the kitchen and put a stop to the shameful goings-on."

  "What is going on?" Hortense again demanded.

  "It's Master Richard, ma'am, and that friend of his... they're foxed, ma'am, and making a shambles of my kitchen."

  "How dare you? My son has never been intoxicated in his life!"

  "No, ma'am," Bessie said, "but ye'd better come quick to put a stop to their fornication."

  Hortense's long face froze. "Lewd language is forbidden at Humphrey House, Mrs. Bumble."

  "It's lewd acts ye should be worried about," Bessie muttered under her breath.

  Hortense was about to ring for her ladies' maid, then decided to put on her dressing gown without help. "You do realize it's after midnight?" Hortense said darkly as she followed Bessie down the backstairs.

  The lamps still ablaze in the kitchen lit the room up to reveal to Mrs. Humphries exactly what was happening. One word from Hortense was enough to shrivel her son's rampant desire along with his cock. "Richard!"

  As the two young wastrels stepped away from the girl, their long waistcoats covered their private parts, but revealed Joy Ashley's nakedness in all its youthful glory.

  "I am appalled to learn what has been going on in my own kitchen!" Hortense Humphries' lips were stiff, her words stilted. "Ashley, you are dismissed. I will not tolerate a strumpet on my staff. Collect your things and begone!"

  "Nay, ma'am," Bessie Bumble protested, "ye cannot put the lass out on a London street in the middle of the night!"

  "It seems to me the street is where she should be plying her trade. Oh, very well, I suppose I'm a soft-hearted fool. The girl may stay until morning. But she had better be gone by the time you cook breakfast or you may find yourself accompanying her."

  The male miscreants had slipped through the doorway unscathed, vanishing into the upper west wing before Hortense had even rendered her verdict. With one last disdainful glance at the servants, the mistress herself swept from the kitchen to return to her bedchamber.

  Bessie pulled off her shawl and wrapped it about Joy's shoulders. "Are ye all right, love?"

  "Thank you, Mrs. Bumble, they had me cornered."

  "Don't thank me, I managed to get ye sacked."

  Joy shuddered. "It's not the first time and I don't suppose it will be the last."

  "Yer shivering; go to bed, child. Ye'll catch yer death standing on this cold flagstone floor. We'll figure out something in the morning."

 


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