Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 07

Chapter 31

February 25, 1846 – Arriving in Swadlincote, Derbyshire, UK

Because of the constant rain, the journey from London took longer than usual. When the carriage entered the small town of Swadlincote, Atwood stopped to ask directions.

From inside the carriage, Mitchell heard him call out to someone standing nearby, “Hey, old-timer, which way to Lord Edgeworth’s estate?”

Mitchell froze, horrified, before turning to face Elizabeth. “What’s the name of the man Jane’s coming here to marry? All she’s ever called him is Ronald, so what’s his surname?”

He would have asked Jane this question, but Jane refused to talk in civil tones to either of them. This started right after the night Elizabeth experienced her first orgasm. The walls between the two rented rooms were thin, so Mitchell knew Jane probably heard him having enthusiastic and repeated sex with Elizabeth.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you already knew. Didn’t Jane mention she was going to be a Lady?” Elizabeth gave him a quick smile, confused by the varied expressions that crossed Mitchell’s face. “He’s Sir Ronald Edgeworth, the only son of Lord Norton Edgeworth.”

Mitchell gave a bitter laugh. “She never mentioned a surname or title. So, I’ll finally see the favored one again after all these years.”

Elizabeth wanted to question him further, but hesitated when she saw the cold look in his eyes. The carriage gave a jerk, and they were on their way again. For the next half hour, the three passengers rode in total silence until the carriage once again stopped.

“M’lord,” called Robbie, jumping down from the driver’s seat, “we’re here. Criminy, it’s bigger and uglier than Squirming Irma’s whorehouse back in London.”

Mitchell helped Elizabeth and Jane out of the carriage, after a quick glance at the immense building. Having visited Irma’s a few times over the years, he couldn’t fault the youngster for making the comparison. The Edgeworth mansion was big and ugly without any redeeming qualities. The three-story building, constructed of weathered gray stones, hid behind clinging vines of decaying ivy. Over a dozen windows, without curtains or shades to soften their appearance, appeared randomly without any particular design or plan. Shrubs in varying stages of life surrounded the front of the mansion.

“Well,” Atwood said from behind Mitchell, having come down silently from the driver’s seat, “are you all going in or plan to stand out here all afternoon?”

Jane was the first to head for the large wooden front door. “I’m going in. Ronald is probably anxious to see me since you sure took your time getting us here.” Just as she reached the door, it opened to reveal a tall elderly man with bushy gray hair, his body thin to the point of emaciation.

“Might I help you?” he asked. When the man looked at them like there was a bad smell standing in front of him, Robbie couldn’t help giggling. “You little guttersnipe, I do not appreciate your rudeness.” The man ignored Robbie after that, and raised his long nose even higher. “The rest of you, either state your business or be off.”

Before Mitchell could react to what the man called Robbie, Jane pushed past the man to walk into the mansion. Inside, she wanted to see her future husband waiting to greet her. Instead, she found herself in a large room devoid of anything resembling the effusive welcome she expected.

She swung around to face the old man. “Where is he? I did not come thousands of miles for him to keep me waiting like a common skivvy.”

Chapter 32

February 25, 1846 – At the home of Sir Ronald Edgeworth

“If you’ll give me your cards I’ll find Master Ronald and let him know you want to see him.” The butler, Reginald Goodayle, held out a white-gloved hand. He sneered when nobody offered a card of introduction. “Just as I thought.” He ignored everyone else and spoke directly to Jane. “Miss, if you’re here to offer your services for his pleasure, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

“I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick.” Mitchell thought he’d better interrupt when he saw Jane so infuriated she couldn’t speak. “This lady you just insulted is Miss Jane Templeton, your master’s future wife.”

“Goodayle, go find my son. I’ll take care of these people.” Everyone turned to see who had spoken. Coming toward them was a tall man in his 60’s, someone obviously used to servants following his orders. “I think he’s in his studio painting again.” This last he said with a note of disgust in his voice.

“Yes, My Lord, right away.” For an old man, the butler made a remarkably fast exit from the room.

“I’m Lord Norton Edgeworth, and you are?” After Lord Edgeworth introduced himself, he held out his hand for Mitchell to shake. When Mitchell ignored the hand, the welcoming smile left Lord Edgeworth’s face. “I see, young man, you don’t know how to properly greet a gentleman.”

Mitchell looked straight at Lord Edgeworth while saying, “When I see a gentleman I’ll greet him properly. Now, I’d like you to meet Miss Jane Templeton, her sister Miss Elizabeth, and my young companion, Robbie.” Mitchell paused there for he suddenly realized he didn’t know Robbie’s last name. He continued, “Robert Whiting, and I’m Captain Whiting.”

On the spur of the moment, he gave Robbie his own last name. When Mitchell was about the same age as Robbie, he decided to change his last name. Until then, he went by his mother’s maiden name. Whiting was the surname of the London whore who was the first of many that year to enjoy his lusty young body.

Mitchell had just finished the introductions when the butler returned, followed by a man looking to be in his early 40’s. Mitchell recognized him, even though he was only seven the last time he’d seen his older brother. Ronald still retained an unspoiled youthful appearance, perhaps because he’d never done a day’s work in his life. His blond hair was in need of a good scrubbing, and an unpleasant odor came from his clothes. When he saw the group of strangers waiting for him, his pale-blue eyes shifted nervously from them to his father.

Jane tried not to show her disappointment with her future husband. He reminds me of Harrison. Her father brought his best friend and constant companion only once into her bedroom. When Harrison nervously unbuttoned his britches and dropped them to the floor, Jane couldn’t help giggling. His shortcoming was revealed trying to hide in sparse pubic hair.

Wondering how she could find out Ronald’s size and stamina, Jane tried to think of a way to get him into her bed that night. If he’s another Harrison, I want to know before my wedding night.

Chapter 33

February 25, 1846 – That night at the home of Sir Ronald Edgeworth

Using only the light from the flickering candle he held, a barefooted Mitchell made his way up the long rickety stairway. Earlier, Robbie once again decided to sleep in the stables with Atwood and their horses. Mitchell received a well-equipped guestroom in the family wing of the mansion on the second floor.

Meanwhile, Elizabeth’s room was one flight up from his room. This was where the servants slept, and she learned Ronald’s governess used her room years ago. Now, the only servant with a room on that floor was the butler, Reginald Goodayle. Mrs. Stanhope, the cook, lived in the nearby village of Swadlincote and refused to stay at the mansion after dark.

Mitchell started down the corridor, while wondering which room was Elizabeth’s. When he walked past the first room, he could hear muffled snoring, even through the thick door. He grinned. That most definitely is not my Elizabeth. Must be that prick, Goodayle. The next three doors were wide open, showing the rooms were unoccupied and empty of furniture.

Reaching the end of the corridor, he came to the last room and slowly pushed open the door. The room was dark, except for the full moon’s light coming in through a small window. Cold February night air seeped through that window’s cracked glass.

“Elizabeth, where are you?” Mitchell whispered. When his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, he first noticed the empty bed. Looking around, wondering if he’d come into the wrong room, he eventually saw Elizabeth silently standing at the window. Walking up behind her, Mitchell put his arms around her waist. When Elizabeth didn’t respond to his touch, he pulled her body tightly against him.

‘Elizabeth, you should be in bed. It’s too cold for you here by the window.” Elizabeth ignored him and continued staring out the window. Mitchell could see her reflection in the dark glass. There were tears sliding down her cheeks. “Baby girl, I’m leaving for London tomorrow. Are you going to spoil our last night together by crying?” Mitchell turned her around to face him, and waited for her to say something.

His frustration increased as Elizabeth remained silent. All day he’d imagined how he would spend these last hours with Elizabeth. It wasn’t working out exactly as he planned. Giving an irritated sigh, Mitchell untied her bathrobe’s sash and opened the robe. His eyes went down to where the nightgown covered her breasts. Through the sheer material, he could see two little pink nipples.

With a long lonely ride to London ahead of him, Mitchell decided to ignore Elizabeth’s tears. His mood improved slightly since she didn’t resist as he led her away from the window. When they reached the side of the bed, he bent and removed her slippers. “That's my good girl,” he said, not noticing how Elizabeth’s body suddenly stiffened.

“Now, I want you to take off your pretty nightgown.” Mitchell sat down on edge of the bed and waited for Elizabeth to do what he asked.

“No.”

Surprised by what Elizabeth said, Mitchell didn’t immediately understand. “Oh, you want me to take it off instead?”

“No.”

Mitchell’s good mood quickly disappeared. Treating Elizabeth like a lady wasn’t getting him anywhere. He changed his tactics, remembering something an old sailor once told him. A woman needs be shown you’re the boss. You maybe have to smack her around now and then to get her attention.

Mitchell didn’t want to hit Elizabeth, so said instead in a low mean voice, “Baby, one way or another I want you naked…right now. You have a choice. You can take off that blasted gown yourself, or I’ll do it for you. Either way, I want to find you in bed with your legs spread, waiting for me all hot and wet.”

He then held his breath, wondering what he’d do if Elizabeth called his bluff.

Chapter 34

February 25, 1846 – That night at the home of Sir Ronald Edgeworth

Elizabeth let out a little sob. “I don’t want to be your good girl.” She bunched her nightgown up around her waist and bent over his lap. “Please get it over with fast.”

Mitchell didn’t understand her strange action, but gave in to the temptation in front of him. He started by running his finger down the narrow space in the middle of her exposed bum. “Elizabeth, don’t rush me. We have all night, and I plan on taking my time.” When he reached her asshole, he slowly inserted his finger. Mitchell felt her struggling, trying to get off his lap, and he wiggled his finger in deeper.

He then pulled it almost all the way out before going back in again. A second finger joined the first, and Mitchell heard Elizabeth give a tiny squeak. “That’s my good baby girl. You like that, don’t you?” Without waiting for her answer, he kept up the rhythm of his probing fingers, in and out, in and out, faster and faster. He felt himself growing painfully hard, pushing against her naked belly.

Knowing he might not make it to the bed in time, he removed his fingers and dumped Elizabeth off his lap onto the wood floor. She landed on her back with a loud thump, too stunned to move. In his frantic haste to get into her, he began swearing when he had to waste time unbuttoning his britches. This finally accomplished, he dropped down to the floor to kneel beside Elizabeth.

She tried to stand, but Mitchell caught her and pushed her back onto the floor. He dug his fingers into the soft skin of Elizabeth’s thighs and roughly forced her legs apart. She fought back as hard as she could. “Stop it, Elizabeth. You’re just going to hurt yourself.” When he felt her give up in defeat, he hurried to instruct her on what to do next. “Bend your knees, move your legs out of my way. Oh, that’s good. No, a little more.” Mitchell wasted another few seconds to yank open the front of his britches. “You’re doing fine, just let me get comfortable.”

He quickly positioned himself between her legs. When the tip of his swollen penis touched the folds of her pink slit, Mitchell pushed his way inside. Her renewed struggles to get away excited him, and he moved harder and faster inside her. “That’s it, Elizabeth, just a little more.” He listened to the wet sucking sound whenever their sweating bodies came together. “Oh jeez, you even sound good.”

When she heard that, Elizabeth let out a furious scream and tried to dislodge him. This raised her hips off the floor, and Mitchell quickly took advantage of this position. He repeatedly forced himself deeper inside her, not knowing or caring if this caused Elizabeth more pain. She twisted frantically back and forth, hitting and scratching, even trying to bite Mitchell. The harder she fought him, the more out of control Mitchell became. Suddenly, he gave a loud yell, followed by the most powerful climax he’d ever experienced. When he could speak again, Mitchell whispered, “You said to be fast, but next time I promise to take my time.”

He kept his promise. After helping her off the floor and into bed, he took her a second and then a third time during the night. Just before dawn, Mitchell pulled an exhausted Elizabeth into his arms. It took time, but she eventually had stopped fighting him. After that, she eagerly satisfied his many sexual fantasies of the past day. Mitchell leaned to hear better when Elizabeth whispered something. Once again that night, he lost his temper, this time at himself. He’d forgotten what Jane had said about their father.

Elizabeth’s last words before she drifted off to sleep were “I am not your good girl.”

Chapter 35

February 26, 1846 – The following morning at the home of Sir Ronald Edgeworth

Despite her efforts to lure Ronald into her room the previous night, Jane failed. Her mood in the morning didn’t improve when Elizabeth and Mitchell joined her at the breakfast table. Both looked tired, and Jane knew neither one of them spent much of the night sleeping. Before Jane could make a snide remark about their appearance, Ronald entered the room, closely followed by young Robbie.

After getting their breakfast from the sideboard, Ronald showed Robbie to a chair next to his. Ronald then explained, “I found the boy standing in the foyer looking lost and hungry, so here we are.” He reached over and ruffled Robbie’s hair. “We can’t have our starving boy wandering around, can we?”

Mitchell kept his eyes on his plate, embarrassed for his host’s strange behavior. When they all had finished eating, he decided to mention his plans for the day. “Since I’ll be leaving for London this afternoon, Ronald, I’d like to take a walk around the grounds. If that’s all right with you, I'll take Elizabeth and Robbie with me. This’ll give you and Jane a chance to get better acquainted.”

“Oh, let Robbie stay,” begged Ronald. “I’d like to show the two of them some of my paintings.” He put a hand on Robbie’s shoulder. “Maybe before he leaves with you this afternoon, I can convince him to pose for me. I picture him as a pirate, holding a long sword in his hand.”

“What do you say, Robbie?” asked Mitchell. “Walk with us or be a pirate?” He started to laugh when the boy chose to be a pirate. Taking Elizabeth’s willing hand in his, he left Ronald and Jane discussing whether Robbie should wear an eye patch or not.

Once outside, Mitchell headed for a nearby section of the grounds that contained the family cemetery. Artemus Tucker, who was both his and the Edgeworth solicitor, always updated him on his father’s activities, both personal and business. In this fashion, Mitchell learned his mother had died two years after his father abruptly sent him away to sea. He hoped Lord Edgeworth gave his mistress the dignity of burial in the family plot.

‘Who is Melissa Lansdale?” Elizabeth watched Mitchell kneel in front of a small granite gravestone and touch the name chiseled in the stone. The time frame between the birth and death dates told of a young woman who died at the age of 26. Below those dates, Elizabeth read Baby Girl with birth and death on the same day. The unnamed child had joined her mother in the grave. Mitchell had learned from Artemus that his mother died in childbirth after a prolonged and bloody delivery.

Before Mitchell could answer, they saw Robbie run out the building’s front door. It took a few minutes to make their way back to him, but they could see he was upset about something.

“I ain’t going back in there.” Robbie yelled when they got within hearing distance. He yelled even louder, “I’ll wait in the carriage ‘til we leave,” before disappearing into the nearby stables.

Continued in next segment

Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 08  (GC) Chapters 36 thru 40 #2091578 by J. A. Buxton