Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 19

Chapter 91

March 15, 1858 – Aboard the White Dolphin

Mitchell had just taken a swallow of his morning coffee when Elizabeth asked, “What’s a nancy-boy?” Elizabeth glanced up from the letter she was reading when she heard the sound of Mitchell choking. She saw him trying to clean his shirt of the liquid he’d spit out at hearing her question. “Are you okay?”

“Perfect,” Mitchell said, once he was able to speak. ”Where did you hear that term? It’s not a nice one, by the way.” He had hoped Blythe’s comment about her cousin hadn’t reached Elizabeth. Even though the mother of his precocious daughter no longer was the naïve 16-year-old he had seduced, Mitchell knew she still was too innocent for her own good.

Without answering, Elizabeth simply handed him the letter. He started reading it out loud. “Dear Elizabeth, my son is most definitely not a nancy-boy as your little brat called him on his last visit. You should wash Blythe’s nasty mouth out for saying such things about my sweet Jason. I blame this on that whoreson you insist on living with. You’re probably still letting him crawl between your legs, aren’t you? Father would be so disappointed in you, but then you always disappointed him.

“I have discussed this situation with my dear husband, and he agrees that Jason will not ever be visiting you again. When I told Ronald what you’d written in your last letter, however, that Mitchell was his half brother, he got the strangest look on his face. He told me to invite the three of you here. Make that four since he insisted rather strongly that I also invite the young boy that came with us. I think his name was Robbie something.”

Mitchell looked up from the letter to check Elizabeth’s reaction. Because she never saw Ronald’s obscene art gallery, his wanting to see Robbie again made little sense to Elizabeth. Seeing only curiosity on her face, Mitchell returned to the letter. “Life here at the Edgeworth estate is pleasant, if a bit boring at times. Ronald no longer spends time painting and has become a model father for our son. The two are inseparable most days, leaving me to find my own amusements. Oh, I nearly forgot to mention my important news. I am enceinte again, due in early spring. I’d about given up after all these years since Jason’s birth, but maybe this time I will have a girl, what my dear departed father-in-law wanted instead of his grandson, my precious Jason.

“Goodayle is waiting impatiently for me to end this letter so he can give it to the post. That butler is so old now, deaf in one ear, almost totally blind, and probably will outlive us all. So, bye for now, and remember what I said about washing Blythe’s mouth out with soap for calling Jason a nancy-boy. Your sister, Lady Edgeworth.”

Chapter 92

February 12, 1858 At the Edgeworth mansion in Derbyshire

As soon as Jane handed the sealed letter for her sister to the butler, she decided the day was too pleasant to remain inside. Her pregnancy wasn’t all that far along, and the family doctor had not yet restricted her to stay inside and rest all day. She put on her warm ermine coat and pulled the fur-lined hood up over her blonde hair Once outside in the brisk February air, she had to squint against the brightness. The previous day’s snowstorm had covered all the tree limbs with a thick layer of ice.

“M’lady, be careful of the icy ground.” Jane looked around for the owner of that deep, husky male voice. She smiled at seeing Ciaran Reardon swaggering toward her. The arrogant way he walked always intrigued her as did his black Irish looks. The stable hand had once eked out a meager living by growing potatoes on a small farm. After the potato famine began in 1845, he had tried to hold onto his land for a few years. He eventually gave up the struggle and migrated to England searching for work. Jane’s father-in-law had hired him soon afterwards.

Ciaran was more comfortable around animals than people and lacking in any of the refined social skills. None of this mattered to Jane in the least. His reputation of being a brute with women initially had excited her as her husband or even Ronald’s father never did. Since the death years ago of Jason’s biological father, Jane had refused to remain celibate. Numerous male estate servants and men from the local town had enjoyed her favors.

* * *

None, though, satisfied her until she caught sight of the stable hand late one evening. She was returning from a walk and happened to see him coming out of his cabin. Ciaran was about to take his weekly bath, and he failed to see his employer’s wife standing in the shadows of nearby trees. He walked to one of the big rain barrels at the front of the cabin and kicked off his dung-caked boots.

Jane’s eyes widened in delight while watching him remove his dirty work clothes. Now that’s more like it, she thought, once he stood naked next to the barrel. He was facing away from the trees, and Jane could only see him from the back. That was enough for her to know she had to have him. As he bent to soak a ragged cloth in the barrel, she saw how firm his buttocks appeared. Bringing her gaze downward, she enjoyed the sight of his thighs and pictured her legs wrapped around them. While he continued his bath, Jane remained silent and out of sight.

A shock of lust went through her when Ciaran turned and sat down on a bench next to the barrel. He grabbed another rag and began rubbing himself dry. By then, Ciaran’s body seemed turned to gold from the glow of the setting sun. He suddenly looked up, surprised to see Jane coming toward him. He was even more surprised when she walked past him into his cabin. He recovered his scattered wits and followed her inside. Meanwhile, Jane had looked around the one small room and was sitting on the edge of his narrow cot.

Chapter 93

February 12, 1858 At the Edgeworth mansion in Derbyshire

When Ciaran, who was still naked, saw where she was looking, he knew what she wanted. Over the years, countless women had looked at his body the same way. “M’lady,” he said, slowly crossing the room. “You shouldn’t be walking around the estate alone. There are dangerous animals around who might hurt you.”

Jane saw his leer when he said this. Moving to lazily stretch out on the bed, she closed her eyes in anticipation while daring him with, “I hope so.” No sooner had she said this then she felt the cot sinking under his heavy weight. At first, the only sound in the room was of her cotton frock ripping as Ciaran’s large hands yanked the material apart at the neckline.

“Nice big tits,” were the first words he muttered, before wrapping his thick lips around one of them and greedily pulling it into his mouth. The wet sound of his rapid sucking and the painful licking of his tongue on her tender flesh made Jane move her hips restlessly on the bed. Moving away from her breast, now slick with his saliva, Ciaran reached down and grabbed the hem of Jane’s frock. “Let’s see what else ya got to offer.”

Not caring what damage he caused to the delicate frock or underlying chemise, he shoved them up around her waist. After Ciaran ripped her delicate silk bloomers completely off, he tossed them to the floor. When he knelt between her legs, Ciaran was more than pleased with what he saw.

Jane looked over the pile of her clothes around her waist and then tried to sit up and get a better view of what Ciaran would do next. She let out a yelp when he gave her a vicious backhanded slap across her face. Jane fell back on the bed, her cheek throbbing in pain. Rather than upsetting her, she was almost dizzy from the pleasure Ciaran’s brutality gave her.

“Be still, bitch.” His harsh words, followed by another painful slap, immediately showed her how to behave with him. When she wiggled her body, as if to trying to escape, Ciaran cursed and used his fists to beat her into submission. He continued to satisfy himself with increasingly savage sexual attacks for the next two hours. When he wasn’t raping her, as he wrongly thought he was doing, Ciaran enjoyed punishing Jane in various and painful ways.

He seemed unable to get enough of her, but eventually Ciaran rolled off her for the last time. When he saw the purple bruises on her lower body, he roughly turned her over on her stomach and smiled at the damage he’d done to her ass. Welts covered the two cheeks where he had repeatedly slashed a slender leather whip he often used on the horses. While putting all his strength into doing this, Ciaran listened to her screaming “I am not a baby bitch.” This confused him since he didn’t realize, in Jane’s mind, it was her father’s friends abusing her, not Ciaran.

Moving to stand beside the cot, he watched while Jane pulled her chemise and frock down to cover her bruised legs. Dried semen also stained her inner thighs from the one time he failed to get into her quickly enough. Ciaran was surprised to see a satisfied smile on Jane’s face as she painfully climbed out of bed. “M’lady,” Ciaran said with a sneer in his voice, “I guess even high-class ladies like you enjoy being whores.” He reached over and wrapped his hand in her disheveled blond hair, forcing her to her knees. “If you don’t want me to tell Lord Edgeworth what a slut he married, you betta get back here tomorrow at dusk. This will be waiting for you, thick, wet, and hot.” With his other hand, Ciaran rubbed his flaccid penis across her upturned face. Satisfied from her little nod that she understood, he let her get to her feet and stumble out of the cabin.

That night after getting back into bed, he held her forgotten bloomers to his nose and breathed deeply of her feminine scent. The material muffled his last sleepy words. “I got a lot to learn the high and mighty Lady Edgeworth about what a real man can do.”

* * *

Now, more than a year after that first interlude, Jane was delighted to be pregnant. She simply failed to tell the stable hand the child was his bastard. “Ciaran,” she said, taking hold of his arm when he got close enough, “my husband told me about the new mare he just purchased. I’d love to see her, if you have the time to show me.” When he hesitated, she asked, “Will King mount her soon?” King, the prize of the Edgeworth stables, was a huge black Arabian stallion. Ronald had searched the countryside in recent months looking for a mare fit to carry on the valuable Arabian bloodline.

Ciaran paused before saying, “Me lads and I are going to try him on her right now, and it ain’t pretty to watch.”

Jane grinned up at him. “Now, Ciaran, you should know seeing that wouldn’t upset me.” She patted his arm before taking his willing hand and pressing it against her breast. “In fact, I imagine you could teach that horse a thing or two about mounting a female.” Jane gave a little pout. “If I can’t see the horses, then at least let me warm up a little in the stable’s tack room. My feet are turning to ice standing here.”

Ciaran knew what awaited him in the tack room, and his menacing smile revealed his anticipation.

Chapter 94

March 15, 1858 – Aboard the White Dolphin

Blythe’s voice coming from just inside the open doorway startled her parents when she asked, “Poppy, what does enceinte mean?” Before he could say anything, she stunned him with her next questions. “Why did Aunt Jane ask if you crawl between Mama’s legs? Is it a game you play with her?”

Rather than answer her questions, not yet ready to explain sex to the 11-year-old girl, Mitchell ordered her to come further into the room. “Blythe, what have we told you about eavesdropping on adult conversations?”

His daughter replied in a singsong voice, “Never eavesdrop on adults. It’s rude and an invasion of privacy. If I do it again, you will spank me.” She then gave Mitchell an impudent grin. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, Poppy. I just hadn’t come into the cabin all the way yet.” Blythe hadn’t forgotten her questions and pressed her father on them. “Does enceinte mean she’s knocked up?”

Elizabeth’s shocked gasp caused Blythe to turn and face her mother. “Mama, is something wrong? I heard Cripton say that once about a lady who had a big belly. It means Aunt Jane’s going to have a baby, doesn’t it?”

“Never mind that, Blythe Anne.” Elizabeth wanted to get to the bottom of young Jason being a nancy-boy, whatever that meant. “Did you hear your father read about you insulting your cousin? Explain yourself…right now!”

Mitchell jumped in before Blythe could answer. When he saw his daughter seemed confused, he asked, “Where did you hear that term, nancy-boy?”

“From Cripton.” She hurried to explain when she saw her father’s anger starting to grow. Thinking it was at her, she went on, “You remember last month when you spanked my behind for something I did not do and told me I couldn’t leave the ship for a week?” Mitchell let that little fib about her innocence pass and simply nodded for her to continue. “Well, I heard Cripton telling two of the crew, Jock and Tony, he was going over to see someone called Squirming Irma and have a roaring good time with a new doxy of hers.”

Blythe stopped her explanation to ask, “Is Squirming Irma a friend of his? What’s a doxy? Can I have one to play with ‘cause you said I couldn’t have a puppy?” Mitchell rolled his eyes, unable to believe the words coming out of his daughter’s mouth. Realizing her father wasn’t going to answer her questions, she looked over at Elizabeth. Her mother just sat there, her mouth opened in shock.

“Well,” continued Blythe, “I wanted to see the doxy, so sneaked off the ship and followed Cripton and the other guys. They didn’t see me ‘cause I was right careful to stay out of sight.” She puffed out her little chest, proud at her actions. “They were walking down the dock, fast like, so I had to almost run to keep up. As they passed one place, Cripton called it a tea-bagger pub, I read The Cock and the Bottle on a sign hanging outside.” Blythe turned to Mitchell and asked, “Poppy, can we go there some time? I know Mama likes tea.”

A knock on the cabin’s open door saved him from having to answer. Mitchell looked over and saw Robbie waiting to come in. “Get over here, Robbie. We’re about to hear Blythe’s explanation about calling her cousin that rude name.” After the young sailor sat down at the table, Mitchell instructed his daughter to get to that explanation.

“Poppy,” she continued, after coming to the table and giving Robbie a friendly kiss on the cheek, “if you’re too busy, could Robbie maybe take me and Mama for tea at that pub?”

Robbie had no idea why Mitchell frantically shook his head at him, but figured Blythe once again was causing mischief in some way. He leaned back in his chair and silently waited.

“Go on, Blythe. What happened at what Cripton called a tea-bagger pub?”

Hearing Mitchell use that crude expression for a place where men went to enjoy other men, Robbie couldn’t help grinning. For about the hundredth time, he was delighted that he wasn’t one of the little girl’s long-suffering parents.

“Poppy, nothing happened. A couple men come out and walked by Cripton and the others. An old man, about your age, had his arm around a man a bit younger than Robbie. Oh, you should have seen how pretty he was with long yella hair,”

“Yellow, Blythe, not yella,” automatically corrected her mother.

“Yes, Mama, that younger man’s hair looked just like cousin Jason’s.” Blythe hurried to finish her explanation when she heard Mitchell and Robbie making rather odd sounds. “So, when Cripton muttered as the men passed them, ‘Imagine shagging a nancy-boy,’ I knew he was talking about shagging Jason since he has yella, I mean yellow hair, too.” Ignoring her father and Robbie, she asked Elizabeth, “What’s shagging?”

Mitchell got up from the table and headed for the door. “I’m going to kill Cripton. I’m going to tell him what Blythe just told us, and then I’m going to kill him.”

Robbie called out, “He’s in the galley having his breakfast. Let him finish his meal, Mitchell, before you kill him.”

Elizabeth said to Blythe, “I think I should write to Jane and explain what you meant by calling Jason a nancy-boy.”

Robbie knew, despite the humor of the situation, that Mitchell was upset with the loose tongue of his first mate. He decided it might be wise to follow him, just in case Mitchell was serious about murdering Cripton. He managed to catch up just as Mitchell reached the galley.

Mitchell knew what awaited him in the galley, and his grim smile revealed his anticipation.

Chapter 95

December 25, 2008 – In the ballroom during the wedding reception

When Neil Diamond’s “I Who Have Nothing” finished, the dance floor quickly filled with dozens of other couples. On the stage, the D.J. returned to spinning songs from various decades. Even though Jack had mentioned the guests would include young children and a few octogenarians, the wide range of ages on the dance floor surprised the D.J.

After Walker escorted Samantha back to their table, he noticed Edith motioning to him and went to stand by her chair. “Mom, what’s up?”

Edith felt the usual thrill when called Mom by the man she’d given up for adoption over 50 years ago. There was important business, though, to do, and she showed Walker what she was holding. Right before leaving to change her outfit, Samantha had given the bridal bouquet to her for safekeeping. “Walker, with the meal over, you should tell Samantha the ladies are eager to catch her flowers. They want to see who’ll get married next.” Edith laughed at the confused look on his face. “You really don’t know many wedding traditions, do you?” She thrust the flowers at him.

Returning to his chair beside Samantha, he held out the flowers and tried to remember what Edith wanted him to say. It came out as “You’re supposed to throw this at some ladies, not sure which ones. It has something to do with getting married again.”

Samantha took the bundle of roses from him. When she gave Walker such a loving look, he guessed he’d passed on Edith’s message correctly. She stood and walked out to the currently empty dance floor, holding her bouquet so the D.J. could see it.

The D.J. quickly ended the current song playing. When the room had quieted somewhat, he made the announcement that it was time for all single women to try catching Mrs. Walker’s bouquet. He watched excited women of all ages come to the dance floor and stand in a group facing Samantha.

When she turned her back on them, the D.J. called out, “One.” Samantha raised the flowers over her head. On “Two,” she began swinging the flowers around and around. With a loud “Three” from the D.J., she made one last swinging motion and tossed the bouquet over her head in the direction of the now yelling women.

Delia, the children’s legal advocate for the orphanage, managed to catch the bouquet as it flew into the crowd of women. The divorced mother of two hugged the flowers to her chest as she returned in triumphant victory to her table. The rest of the women straggled back to their seats, destined to remain single for a bit longer.

Randall, who had been silently brooding during most of the reception, leaned over toward Walker. “Now, it’s your turn, old friend. Go get the garter!”

Jack brought out a chair to the dance floor for Samantha, and she gracefully sat down. The light-green muslin gown modestly covered her legs, and she nervously waited as Walker came toward her. When he knelt on the floor in front of her, Samantha tried to look everywhere but at him. She heard catcalls and whistles from the guests as Walker’s hand went underneath the hem of her gown. His sweet smile calmed Samantha’s embarrassment, and she tried to ignore everyone else in the room.

“Now, where’s that fancy garter?” Walker, his hand caressing Samantha’s left leg, slowly slid upward. When he reached her thigh, he didn’t find the lace edging the wedding garter. He called out, “Wrong leg, everyone. Sam better let me do some more searching.”

His smile turned wicked, and Samantha started to regret this particular tradition. She felt his hand move to her other leg. “Stop it,” she whispered, when his fingers began stroking the soft flesh above the top of her stocking. “Please, everyone’s watching.”

Even though nobody could see what he was doing underneath the gown, Walker stopped his teasing motion and reached for the garter instead. Pulling it out, he stood and showed off the gaudy blue garter to their guests. While Samantha changed places with Delia, the men came onto the dance floor.

Using the slingshot method, Walker quickly aimed it over their heads. Some shoved and pushed to get a better position to catch the garter. Because of his tall height and determination, Randall snagged the garter. Still brooding over unjustly losing Samantha to Walker, he knelt in front of a giggling Delia. Giving her a sexy grin, he took his time sliding the garter up her slender leg.

Once everyone had returned to their seats, the D.J. made one last announcement. “Please welcome Chef Geoffrey.” Heads turned to the door and watched as the mansion’s chef, with the help of one of his staff, entered with a large wheeled cart. On it were both the huge bride’s wedding cake and the smaller groom’s cake.

To placate the offended Chef, when Edith hired three outside firms to cater the wedding, she put Chef Geoffrey in charge of making both cakes. Cheers filled the room as the men wheeled the cart to an empty space next to the bridal party’s table.

Walker broke out in laughter at his first sight of the groom cake. It was in the shape of a sleeping fox, made to resemble the first occupant of his mansion. Frosting of strawberry mixed with orange coloring exactly resembled Zorro’s reddish fur. “I love it, Chef. You are a genius.” Walker’s praise took away the last of Chef Geoffrey’s hurt feelings.

Samantha was as pleased with the wedding cake. It stood five layers high and covered in white frosting. An edible ribbon that matched the dark-green band of Samantha’s reception gown rimmed the bottom of each layer. Red tea roses curved around the cake, adding to the Christmas theme.

Finished admiring his groom cake, Walker came to stand next to her. He felt her hand shaking as they both held on to the silver knife and cut the first slice of cake. He saw how pale Samantha’s face looked and knew the long day’s festivities were taking their toll on his wife.

As soon as he could, he told his mother, out of Samantha’s hearing, “I’m leaving with Sam now. I think she’s a bit exhausted.”

Edith understood his worry of Samantha’s health. It had been only a few months since Colin Edgeworth’s attack when she nearly died. Edith watched her son help Samantha to her feet, whisper something in her ear, and start leading her through the crowd of well-wishers.

* * *

Once in the glass elevator, Walker began hoping Samantha wasn’t all that exhausted. When they reached the apartment, he followed her into the unlit hallway and closed the door behind them. “Come here, wife,” he softly whispered, putting his arms around her slender waist.

The darkness of the hallway helped calm her wedding-night jitters, and Samantha took a step closer. She reached between their bodies and began unbuttoning his shirt. Within seconds, Walker’s upper body was bare, and Samantha pulled the shirt out to hang over the waistband of his slacks. “So beautiful,” she said to herself, her fingers exploring the soft dark hair on his chest.

Her unexpected behavior delighted Walker. When he felt her fingers leaving his chest to slide lower, he reluctantly took hold of that hand. “Why don’t you go into the bedroom, Sam, where you can get out of that dress?”

Samantha nodded and headed down the hallway. On entering the living room, lit only by a small table lamp, Samantha turned to Walker. Knowing what was about to happen between them, her nervousness had returned full force. “Walker, can you wait out here for a few minutes? I’d like to freshen up in the bathroom a bit first. Please?”

After she went through his lonely bachelor bedroom to the bathroom, Walker paced back and forth. He tossed his shirt on a chair and sat down on the sofa. He jumped up again and paced some more. Every couple seconds, he would look toward the bedroom.

When he heard Samantha coming out of the bathroom, he knew it was finally time to consummate their marriage. In a few minutes, he would make Samantha his wife, his bed partner, his only love.

Walker knew what awaited him in the bedroom, and his loving smile revealed his anticipation.

Continued in next segment

Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 20  (GC) Chapters 96 thru 100 #2091652 by J. A. Buxton