Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 20

Chapter 96

February 12, 1858 At the Edgeworth mansion in Derbyshire

Once in the stable’s tack room, Jane removed her fur coat and spread it out on the wooden floor. Although she was almost three months’ pregnant, she had watched her weight very carefully. Despite this, her belly had a very slight bulge, and her breasts were plumper than usual. Jane knew Ciaran wouldn’t notice these changes, but she would have to tell Ronald that she was pregnant soon.

She stood on the coat, her head lowered to hide the excitement in her eyes. Ciaran insisted she always remain silent and unmoving until she found out what he wanted of her. The one time she forgot this rule, she regained consciousness an hour later with a swollen jaw.

After motioning to the three men working nearby mucking out stalls, Ciaran followed her inside, leaving the room’s door wide open. Part of his thrill lately, other than forcing Jane to obey him, came from having others watch. “Get down on the floor,” ordered Ciaran, walking to stand behind her. He still believed she came to him because of his threat to tell her cuckolded husband about their meetings. Ciaran savored the fear and pain she showed when he was at his most brutal. He added to his enjoyment by forcing her to pretend to want him, just as she had done outside.

When she didn’t move fast enough this time, he slammed his foot into the back of her right leg. She fell to her hands and knees, whimpering from the pain. Enjoying himself, Ciaran put his foot on her back and pushed down so she was lying flat on her stomach. “I know ya like this, bitch! Ya want more?”

Not waiting for an answer, Ciaran knelt and pulled Jane’s heavy wool dress up as far as it would go. This left her lower body completely bare since she no longer bothered wearing undergarments. Ciaran moved to straddle her, knowing he was adding to her pain by his heavy body pressing down on her slender hips. Leaning forward, he was able to undo the long row of buttons going down the back of the dress.

“Hey, Ciaran, when ya goin’ ta flip her over? I wanna see her milkers.” Jane heard one of the men watching at the door laughing after yelling this. She recognized Stanley’s voice and hoped he would come inside to see what a real man could do for her. Before she met Ciaran, she had tried out Stanley and a couple other stable hands, but found them uninspired in their attempts to please her. She stifled a giggle on hearing him want to see her on her back. That had been how he had taken her the one time she let him, and she doubted he knew any other way.

Ciaran ignored Stanley to give Jane his next order. “Put out ya bloody arms, stupid cow. I can’t get rid of this rag with ya in that friggin’ position.” When she obeyed, he dragged Jane’s dress up over her head and tossed it aside. He was now satisfied to see her lying there trembling in what he thought was fright. He didn’t realize Jane was simply shivering from the cold draft blowing on her naked body. He glanced over to make sure the men hovering around the open door were still watching. Ciaran knew all of them, except Stanley, enjoyed themselves whenever he plowed her from behind.

“Stop pissing around, Ciaran. I wanna hear her scream.” This came from Roger, a skinny illiterate from London who was at the estate hiding from the law.

Sweeney, another lowlife hired years ago by Lord Edgeworth, called out, “If Ciaran can’t get it up, I’m more than willing to take her instead.”

Ciaran couldn’t let this insult go. He was inordinately proud of the large size of his tool, even when not sexually aroused. “Go play with yaself, Sweeney. I kin do this bitch right fine. Ya want to hear her scream, Roger? I’ll make her scream, just ya wait!” He slid back until he was positioned over Jane’s ass and undid his britches.

“What are you going to do?” Jane pretended to whimper this, even managed to force out a tearful sob or two. She closed her eyes in anticipation when she felt Ciaran maneuver his thick meaty penis into the crack between her two cheeks. “No, please, don’t hurt me. You’re too big. Please stop.”

The four at the doorway continue to laugh and call out to Ciaran. He started getting angry when he heard Roger shout, “The tart thinks ya got a big knob? Puny is more like it.”

Stanley’s final insult to his manhood of “Hey, Roger, maybe he needs a quick hand job before plugging her” pushed Ciaran over the edge. Furious at the insinuation he needed help, Ciaran decided to take his anger out on the terrified woman wedged tightly between his powerful thighs.

Chapter 97

August 22, 1864 – Aboard the White Dolphin

Seventeen-year-old Blythe pouted while flouncing away from Robbie. “You just have no sense at all what it’s like being a woman,” she shouted, just before disappearing down the stairs. Once below deck, she headed for her own cabin, located not far from her parents’ rooms. “Just ‘cause he says he’s 31, that blasted man doesn’t need to act so uppity and stiff about what I want.” Blythe muttered this and went inside her room to sulk in private, after first slamming the cabin’s door.

Mitchell, who had been writing in his personal ship’s log heard the loud noise and couldn’t help grinning. His daughter, never one to hide her feelings, seemed annoyed with everyone lately. Elizabeth had tried to tell him that this was normal for girls her age, and he quickly learned to stay out of Blythe’s way when in this touchy mood.

He looked up from the log at seeing Robbie standing in his cabin’s open doorway. The young sailor looked annoyed, something that also was common with him nowadays. “So, Robbie, what’s she done now?”

Taking this as an invitation to come into the room, Robbie walked over to one of Elizabeth’s fancy overstuffed chairs and plopped down in it. “Your daughter is driving me crazy with her talk of wanting to get pregnant. She isn’t even thinking about needing some man to---well, you know what’s needed. The silly fool just wants to have a bunch of babies.” He pleaded with Mitchell, “Can’t you talk to Blythe and tell her she’s too young?”

Mitchell began laughing at the frustrated look on Robbie’s face. “Now, how can I tell Blythe that? Remember, Robbie, I got Elizabeth pregnant when she was a year younger than my daughter is now.” He thought for a minute, closed the log, and decided to mention what he and Elizabeth had discussed only recently. “You have a way to stop my daughter’s crazy talk about having a baby, and it’s staring you right in the eyes.”

“Anything, Mitchell. I’ll do anything before one of the other men on the ship decides to get her pregnant.” Robbie grimaced when he thought of Jock, a shipmate of his and a regular at Squirming Irma’s, who vigorously rubbed his crotch whenever he saw Blythe. The image of Jock taking Blythe’s virginity made him want to puke. “What should I do, Mitchell?”

Just then Elizabeth walked into the room, surprised to see Robbie sitting there in such an agitated state. When Mitchell filled her in on the problem facing the younger man, she asked, “Did you tell him what we talked about the other night?”

She sat down in the other chair and waited, her broad smile warning Robbie he might not like their solution.

Chapter 98

February 12, 1858 At the Edgeworth mansion in Derbyshire

Ciaran’s angry muttering changed to malicious laughter when Jane started wiggling furiously to dislodge him. He had forgotten that one look of pleasure Jane gave him after their first time together. Never again did she slip so badly, and he always felt after that he was in charge. “Too big, huh? Ya took it before, and Roger likes it when you scream.” Using his dirty fingers to guide himself into Jane’s tight asshole, he yelled, “Too big? I’ll give ya too big,” and jammed himself further inside.

Ciaran had pushed his britches down around his hips, and the other men came into the room to see better. They watched him moving in and out of her while she struggled to get free. Sweeney stuck his hand inside the flap of his own britches, his circling fingers moving along with the rise and fall of Ciaran’s naked buttocks.

Jane slowly turned her head to watch Sweeney masturbating. She had him a couple times before her father-in-law got her pregnant, but had found him lacking in stamina. Her mild interest in him now made her forget to struggle, and she felt Ciaran pull out of her when he saw where she was looking.

He yelled at her, while fastening his britches, “Ya want him? What about the rest of them, slut? How many can ya take at once?” He got off her and stood to face the group of men, now numbering four. Sweeney, Stanley, and Roger had been joined by Paps. The other men had given the slightly slowwitted man this nickname because his overdeveloped chest resembled a woman's breasts. There was a bit of dried spittle at the corner of his mouth. He also gave off an eye-watering smell of body odor from not having washed in weeks.

“Any of ya want her?” Eager nods and big grins answered Ciaran’s question. He looked down at Jane who was still lying on her stomach and put his filthy boot down on the middle of her back to hold her in place. She pretended to cry in terror about what was about to happen, and Ciaran laughed to see her squirming. “Don’t she look like an alley cat in heat beggin’ for some?” He pushed down harder when he heard the coarse laughter of the other men.

Ciaran finally moved away from her and sat on a rickety chair. Leaning back to enjoy the action, he took a cigar out of his shirt pocket and lit it. Nodding toward Jane, he silently let the men know it was his turn to watch them. The four men quickly undid their britches and surrounded Jane, arguing about which one would have her first.

By the time Ciaran finished slowly smoking his cigar down to a small stub, every orifice on Jane’s body had been filled repeatedly. Satisfied that she had learned a lesson about getting him angry, he watched the men leave the tack room, each laughing and bragging that he’d been the one to make her cry out the loudest.

Ciaran waited until they were out of earshot before he knelt between her legs. Ignoring the wet semen left behind by the other men, he forced her to satisfy him. “Ya look at another man again like ya did with Sweeney, and just see what happens next time.” Finishing with a loud grunt, he buttoned his britches, and swaggered out of the room whistling loudly.

Jane lay stretched out on her fur coat, looking up at the ceiling with a contented look on her face. Her voice was hoarse from shrieking for mercy, her throat raw from the men’s repeated and rough oral sex, and both her vagina and rectum felt bruised and battered. There was horse manure on her back from where Ciaran had placed his filthy work boot. Her skin was slippery with the men’s sweat, and her hair was stiff from when Paps got overly excited and missed her mouth.

Jane hadn’t enjoyed herself this much in years, and she began thinking of ways she could provoke Ciaran’s anger again. Reliving in her mind how loved she felt taking on all five men, Jane ignored the sudden sharp pain in her belly.

Chapter 99

December 27, 2008 – At Walker's Maison du Renard Rouge

Jack took another bite of toast before telling Randall, “With Walker and Samantha gone on their honeymoon, it’s great you decided to keep me company for a few more days.”

“No problem. Don’t forget you promised I could read more of Whiting’s log later today.” The mystery of how the two books had come to be in the elder Walker’s home intrigued the detective in Randall. “When did you read Whiting’s last entry?”

Jack began laughing, remembering that day a few weeks ago. Walker had just made the announcement at breakfast about the Christmas wedding. Immediately finding men were just in the way when women planned a wedding, Walker escaped up to his bachelor apartment, taking Jack with him.

“So, what’s so funny?” Randall frowned. “What did I say?”

Jack shook his head. “No, it’s not you. I was just thinking of when Walker told us about Samantha’s wish for a Christmas wedding. All those elderly women gathered around Samantha and started cackling about gowns and cakes and… Well, stuff that had Walker backpedaling out of the dining room, running for his life. He almost dragged me upstairs, threatening to kill me if I didn’t stop laughing.”

Not wanting to hear about Samantha or her wedding, Randall asked, “So you read the ship’s log that morning, the next entry?”

“Yeah, I think it was dated 1846, some time in October. They were at sea, and he started writing about some fierce storm heading their way. Right after he wrote about ordering Elizabeth and Robbie below, he stopped writing and must have left his cabin and gone topside to take the wheel.” Jack failed to mention finding the strange journal on Walker’s desk or the fact Walker had angrily taken it away from him.

Seeing Randall had finished his breakfast, Jack stood, ready to leave. “With Walker on his honeymoon, I have to go upstairs anyway to let the workmen in later. Why don’t we head up there now and grab the two books?”

The two men left the dining room, both eager to read more of the ship’s log. When they got to the fourth floor, Jack used his key to enter the apartment. Speaking to Randall over his shoulder, Jack explained, “Walker rarely locks his door, but he gave me this key so I can keep the kids safely outside while he’s gone.”

Randall shrugged, not particularly interested, and followed Jack into the first room off the hall. He looked around Walker’s office and was impressed with how organized it was. He knew Walker handled most of his business and philanthropic causes from this room. A fax machine sat on a long credenza, and there was a line of books covering the rest of that piece of furniture. On Walker’s desk were the usual office items such as pens and a laptop, but Randall’s eyes went immediately to the journal lying on the desk.

He recognized it from his previous visit. During that unforgettable time, he helped bring out the remains of the five women murdered by Jason Edgeworth decades ago. In front of him was Colin Edgeworth’s journal, and he knew inside he’d finally know the horrible details of Samantha’s abduction and torture in that same underground chamber. Noting that Jack had his back to him while opening the wall safe, Randall quickly hid the slim journal inside his shirt.

When Jack turned around with the diary and ship’s log in his hands, all he saw was Randall checking out the books on the credenza.

Chapter 100

December 27, 2008 – In Walker’s apartment

“Let’s go sit in the living room,” suggested Jack, hesitant about having Randall in the office. He knew Walker valued his privacy, and he was usually the only person allowed in this room.

Randall nodded. “Sure, I’m curious if there’s a clue yet about how Walker’s father got the books. Did anyone read further in that woman’s diary? Elizabeth, right?”

“Sure did. Walker told me Samantha read it to get away from the wedding plans.” Jack tried to remember what Samantha had read. “Um, I think the last entry was sometime in December, two months after the storm Mitchell wrote about.”

Randall smiled in relief. “So they got through the storm alive. Glad ‘cause I rather liked those two.”

“Three.”

“What do you mean, three? Oh, Robbie. I almost forgot the kid.”

“Make that four then.” Jack stopped and picked at a piece of nonexistent lint on his trousers before continuing. Only after seeing the puzzled look on Randall’s face, did he take pity on him. “More happened after Mitchell stopped writing in October. From Elizabeth’s entry in December, it sounds like she had a baby girl in the middle of the storm. In fact, her father delivered Blythe with 12-year-old Robbie as his nurse.”

Randall chuckled at that news. “I bet Elizabeth recovered quicker than those two.” He reached out for the diary. “Why don’t I dig into this while you get to the ship log’s next entry?”

“I forget to tell you. When they got back from the trip to British West Indies, they had letters from Jane waiting for them at their lawyer’s office.” Jack opened the log to the back cover and showed Randall the pocket stuffed with letters. “Mitchell saved them along with some that seem written much later.” He brought Randall up to date on what Walker had told him was in the first letter.

Randall jumped in with “Hey, now I remember that letter. When I got here for the wedding, Walker told me what you’d all read just before we got to Jane’s next letter.”

“I missed that one. Anything important in it?” Jack had been so busy planning the wedding and reception for the last few weeks that he’d spent little time with Walker.

“Well, I think she wrote it about a month or so after her first letter and said she was pregnant, due in either eight or nine months.” He went on, “There was a third letter dated, let’s see, in April of 1848. A month before, she gave birth to a boy she named Jason.”

“Jason?” Jack stopped him, stunned by what Randall had just said. “Jason Edgeworth?”

“Yeah, Jason Edgeworth, and that’s exactly how Walker acted when I read that name. Jane also wrote her father-in-law, Lord Norton Edgeworth, had a heart attack. He died in September of the previous year.”

“Damn, if Jason’s the bastard that killed all those women, I want to know more about him.” Jack furiously flipped through the pile of letters in the log until he found Jane’s next letter. “That woman sure isn’t much into writing letters.” He squinted when he read the date, “February 12, 1858.” Jack handed the letter to Randall. “Here, you read it. Her writing is like chicken scratches.”

“That’s okay. I had to read her other letters for Walker.” He took the letter. “Jeez, she didn’t write anything for 10 years?”

“It’s possible they misplaced the ones between those dates or something.” Jack motioned impatiently for Randall to start reading, which he did.

“Well, she’s pregnant again. Wonder if that Jason had a brother or a sister?” Randall continued reading. “This is something interesting. Did you know Jane’s husband is Mitchell Whiting’s brother?” He grinned. “That makes that old reprobate, Lord Norton Edgeworth, the captain’s father. Now I’m more curious than ever to find out how Walker’s father got these two books.”

Jack reached into the ship log’s back cover and pulled out the next letter. “Maybe this one will clear up this mystery.”

Continued in next segment

Home of the White Dolphin - Segment 21  (GC) Chapters 101 thru 105 #2091662 by J. A. Buxton