Between Boredom and Brilliance (5 of 20)

Chapter Five – A Meeting of Extreme Importance

Emma’s blissful state slowly glided into awareness as she began hearing birdsong. Irritated, she snuggled deeper under her covers. No, it was too early to rise, surely! She groaned when Maud drew open the curtains and then sat up with a start when she realised George would be there! No, no, no! She didn’t want Maud to come in while her husband was lying nude in her bed! It was totally inappropriate!

However, the only one sitting up nude was Emma herself. George had already left. Emma was unsure if she was relieved or saddened that he had gone before she awoke.

“Come, ma’am, you must rise. You have a visitor waiting downstairs.”

“Oh, pray tell who it is! Surely, it is not yet eleven of the clock?” Emma said, remembering that today was to be the meeting for the news paper committee. She rose and stepped into her dressing room where her copper hip bath stood waiting, delicious wafts of rose scented steam rising up from it.

“It is the vicar’s wife, Mrs Elton. She appears to be in an uproar because she refused Mr Knightley’s offer for tea and did not want to sit down and wait for you. You had better hurry, ma’am.”

With a humph, Emma shed her slippers and stepped into the bath tub.

“I will not forego on the pleasures of my morning ablutions for anyone and certainly not for that woman! She called on me and not the other way round! Let her stew.”

Maud giggled while she helped her mistress pin up her long, golden locks.

“She is wearing a trench in your Papa’s parlour floor with her pacing, as we speak. I know it is not my place to say but she is a horrible woman indeed, Ma’am.”

Now it was Emma’s turn to giggle.

“You may say so only in the private of this dressing room, Maud. I won’t tell anyone.”

Dignity and distinction, Emma! Thus Emma admonished herself before she glided into the parlour as elegantly as she could. That odious woman would not see her stoop to the level that woman herself was on! She entered and saw the woman in question walking to and fro over the carpet while George was trying to make her sit down. In vain, Emma saw. Well, that would not do!

“Mrs Elton, good morning. To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

The vicar’s wife whirled around to face her hostess and barely managed a civilised curtsy.

“Mrs Knightley …”

Emma waved a hand toward the sofa and seated herself on the other side of the coffee table, the side where she could bask in the pearly rosy sun of midmorning. Mrs Elton’s mouth opened, then  closed again. She hurried to the sofa and plumped down on it in an unladylike manner.

“Can I offer you some refreshments, ma’am?” Emma asked, her face bearing an expression as if butter would not melt in her mouth. She quickly had to stifle a giggle when she saw George’s eyebrows lift in suspicion.

Mrs Elton waved away the offer with an impatient fluttering of her hand and – almost but not quite – snapped, “Mrs Knightley, I will not beat around the bush here! I know you have invited several ladies to a special meeting this morning. I am very chagrined that I was not included in this invitation. As the wife of Highbury’s vicar, I am entitled to have my say in every activity that concerns the welfare of our small community!”

Emma pasted a smile on her face that only showed her even white teeth and replied sweetly, “But Mrs Elton, you must be sadly misinformed! I invited a few friends for a chat and a cup of tea, that is all. Nothing of what we will chatter about will be of great importance for Highbury’s community, I assure you.”

Mrs Elton’s brow furrowed while she digested this. It was, Emma thought, a most comical thing to watch the woman, dressed up as if she would be presented at court, and holding herself stiff as if she was meeting with the Prince Regent himself, but all that conceit vanishing as soon as she was confronted with something she did not understand. Mrs Elton, Emma mused, often did not understand the most simple aspects of social intercourse. She was too self-absorbed for that and thought herself to be the centre of the universe. It was time to put an end to this ridiculous spectacle, Emma decided and stood.

“Now, if you will not take tea, ma’am, you must excuse me. My dear sister and her husband depart for London soon and I want to make my adieux properly.”

It took Mrs Elton several moments to realise she was being dismissed.

 

“My dears, welcome!”

Her arms spread and her face alight with pleasure, Emma entered the parlour where her friends had gathered for the committee meeting. George, to her astonishment, was there as well. Emma decided not to confront her husband right now, even though she did not care for him to be there. Later, when they were alone, there would be ample opportunity.

Instead, she hugged her sweet Anne – Mrs Weston, formerly Miss Taylor and Emma’s governess – and exclaimed, “Oh Anne, how delightful is it to see you! How is little Anna today? Have you brought her with you?”

“Yes, indeed, I have!” Mrs Weston replied. “But she was whisked away by Isabelle as soon as I stepped in. It seems your Papa has not yet admired her enough!”

“Good, good! Do sit down, Anne. And who have we here? Oh, my dear Harriet! How good of you to come!”

Harriet – now Mrs Martin of Abbey Mill Farm – curtsied while a rosy blush spread over her round young face. “Mrs Knightley, how kind of you to invite me.”

“Pish and nonsense!” Emma laughed. “No Mrs here, Harriet! Emma, it shall be. Sit down, my dear, sit down. Miss Bates, I’m so happy you could make it!”

“Oh … erm … Miss Woo … oh, so sorry, Mrs Knightley, I am sure I … oh, so delighted, what a pleasure, I’m sure … oh, oh …”

George, sensing the elder spinster’s usual embarrassment, came forward and took Miss Bates’ hand to bow over it. “Miss Bates, allow me to escort you and point you to a seat. Here we are, please.”

Fluttering her hands in front of her face, Miss Bates let herself down very gingerly onto a seat.

Emma surveyed her little company with fondness, before she sat down herself in front of everyone else, as it behoved a true chairwoman.

“Now, my fellow members of the board, I declare the first monthly meeting of “The Highbury Chronicles” opened. Let us do some good work here, if you please!”

 

Margaret with the Red Book 50

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard


Margaret with the Red Book 50

Unbeknownst to anyone, Miss Amber Haddon left Milton early that morning with one bag and headed for London with only one possible destination.

 

Before their normal dinner time, Katie came into see how Margaret was doing and have a small chat with her.  “How are you feeling, Margaret?”

“Quite fine, I think.  As long as I do not have a night like last night, I shall be fine.”  Laughingly, she told Katie that John was calling this a recuperating night.

“That man knows the female or at least he has great concern for you.  Is there anything I should be thinking, planning or doing for this rushed marriage?”

“I have given that some thought today.  John and I have a lot of talking to do tonight – and I mean talking,” Margaret blushed.  Since I have the money I’d like to give him a wedding ring like is being done these days.  It is rare but it is becoming the tradition.  I need a nice dress but not a wedding dress.  We haven’t talked about a honeymoon yet, but I will need clothes for that and a trunk or two to put it all in.  I am not sure yet how you can help, but I am sure there shall be something for you.”  Margaret threw her arms around Katie again.  “If it was not for you, I would never have seen this day, you know.”

“I will take no credit for that.  Who knew Mr. Thornton would ever walk in here?”

Margaret put her head down, suddenly remembering his time with Lucia.

“Oh, I see you have not discussed that with him yet.

“No, but I am going to ask tonight.”

“Well, do not let it worry you my dear.  I know exactly why he was here and what went on and I think you are to be surprised.”

“Surprised?  That word used in a brothel doesn’t seem like it bodes well for me.”

“Trust me on this.  I guess I shall have to get someone else to do what you have been doing for me.  It has been more valuable than you could know.”

“Please do not look for anyone just yet.  I have a surprise, too.”  Margaret remarked coyly.

“All right.  If you say so.  What have you told him about the money from the noble?”

“He knows nothing of that yet.  I have plans I am making and want to announce it all at once.  I do not think I told you, but I have bought the bookstore in town.  Mr. Davies was selling out because of his wife’s health.  I happened in just as he was putting the sign in the window.  That’s another secret please keep.  I would love to be the owner of a bookstore.”

“Margaret, that suits you very admirably.  It shall be nice to have a fellow female business woman in town.  I guess the noble’s money was sizeable, then.”

“Yes, it was.  I am going to do good things with it.”

“Does Mr. Thornton know about your book?”

“No.  I am not sure when I am going to tell him.  I might wrap it and give it to him as a gift with him still not knowing I wrote it.  He’s kidded me several times about the red book.  So, I am going to have the cover done in red like the other one.  I am thinking of calling it The Red Book, unlike the French name of the other red book.”

“Margaret that sounds like a publishing coup.  Excellent idea.  I have been thinking of postponing the wedding for an additional week and get the book finished and take it on our honeymoon,” she giggled.

“Oh, if you only could.  I did not realize you were that close.”

“I was struggling for an ending after  the recap of everything.  But because of last night, I have worked today on an entirely different chapter.  What do you think?”

I can only assume what type of ending it shall be and I think it is very fitting as you have put so much of yourself, unrecognized of course, into it.  You might as well have the happy ending.  What excuse will you give John for postponement.”

“I shall have to lie to him temporarily.  I will think of something.  Who knows, he probably has many irons in the fire at the mills that might need more time.  It is not like we will not be seeing each other during that time.  One more thing and this must remain a secret until the last minute.  Tawl will be the one to walk me down the aisle.  I know he will be too excited to keep quiet.  In fact, I am thinking of piling all the girls and him into a couple coaches and taking them to the ceremony, surprising everyone and John, too.”

“Margaret, you are so thoughtful.  The girls would have died not being able to attend your marriage to John Thornton and so will all of the town.”

“Can you clear all the clients for a week from this coming Saturday?”

“I think I can manage that,” Katie said walking towards her planner.  As she looked down she noticed,”  You will be just past your woman’s week, so that shall be a great time for you.  We will have your days written on a piece of paper if you are on a month long honeymoon, but that will be a personal decision when those days come.”

“I do not even know if he wants children.  The more I think about things, the more I know that I do not know.  I have made a big decision with little facts.  Do not get the wrong idea, but I may not be home tonight either.  What time is it?”

“It is about our dinner time, so you have only an hour to get ready,”  Katie responded as she rose to leave the room.”

“I do not have anything to wear,” Margaret grumbled looking into her closet.”

“Joy has a very nice dress you can wear.  I will fetch it.”

“Thank you, my dearest friend, for all you do for me.”

“Miss Margaret, that works both ways, dear girl.”

 

The girls had once again finished primping Margaret for her night out.  Tawl stood in the hall admiring the vision before him.  He wished he had had a sister like her.  “Miss Margaret, I would like to suggest that on one of these outings that you permit me to be the driver.  I would love to be seen sitting outside some very nice restaurant and talk with the other male drivers.  I mean, I am in heaven here, but a young man, such as myself, needs to talk with other lads occasionally.”

“Tawl, I shall certainly see what I can do.  I like that idea myself, too.  Did you take that note around to Mr. Thornton’s home today?”

“Yes, m’am.  I am sure he’ll be pulling into the back anytime now.  Oh, I think he is coming now.  Do you have everything you need?”

“Ah . . . no,  I made a list of questions to talk about.  Where did I put that?”  Margaret wandered back into her bedroom and started to rummage through all her book writing papers.  She heard John ask for her.  Finding her paper, she raced to the door.  There he was.  The man in her life was standing tall with his top hat in his hand and waiting on her.  How thoughtful Margaret he is, he brought flowers.  “Are those for me?’ she asked as she strolled up to him.

“They are for Miss Leeds,” who he handed them off to just as she came up behind Margaret.

“Mr. Thornton, how gracious of you.  Thank you.  I will adorn the waiting room for all to enjoy.  Where are you two going this evening.”

John greeted Margaret with his broad smile and then turned to Katie.  “We are going to the new eatery in the town called The Mill on the Pond.  Have you been there?”

“No, I just heard a client speaking about it the other day.  They say it is decorated as the early cotton mill it once was . . . with a water wheel, too, I believe.”

“Yes.  For the mill master, It is like stepping back in time.  I do not believe Margaret has any association with mills yet.  I think it is time we start getting her acquainted.”  He finished his statement almost as a question while he looked down at her.  “After dinner it will be Margaret’s choice.  I believe we have a lot of talking to do.”

Margaret dangled a sheaf of paper in front of him that was covered in scribbles and shortened words.  “Yes, Mr. Thornton.  Since I know so little of you, I have many things to discuss.”

“I see that.  Surely, I cannot be of that much interest.  I am a simple man.  I have little to tell.”

“I do not think I believe you, Mr. Thornton.  I believe you to be deep and complex.  You may not have talked about yourself but that changes tonight,” she smiled.

Katie handed Margaret’s wrap to Mr. Thornton, who immediately walked behind her and draped it over her shoulders.  “Do you need any help carrying that big list, Miss Hale?”  John teased.  John noticed about half the household was again watching.  This time they gave them some room and stayed at the other end of the hall.  “Good evening, Ladies.”

Tawl was ahead of them and had the back door open and Branson had the carriage door ready.  “Have a pleasant evening,” he parted.

John held out his arm for Margaret’s and they left the premises.

The coach had just made the turn from the dirt alley to the cobblestone streets when John pulled Margaret into a crushing embrace.  He kissed her fiercely not realizing how much he was in need of her.  Margaret struggled slightly not prepared for such an onslaught although she did not mind.  Slowly John turned his crushing embrace into a cradle and his passionate firestorm kiss into devastating tenderness.  He felt Margaret put her arms around him, engaging, and he moaned when she ran her fingers into his hair.  John set her away from him recognizing the animal had become unleashed.

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This book is now available at Amazon.com

E-book available at Loyal Wynyard Books

Margaret with the Red Book – Part 48

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard

Margaret with the Red Book – Part 48

John was thinking ahead when he asked Branson to drive to the back alley of the Leeds home to let Margaret use that entrance the next morning.

“I do not want to let you go, you know,” John said as they neared her home.”

“John, I can hardly walk!” She smiled.

He laughed and hugged her tightly.  “How about you accompany me for a dinner out and a night of simple recuperation this evening?  I promise you shall be home by midnight.

“Yes, I would like to just sit and talk now that we are more acquainted.  John, when I go in there, they’re all going to know.  What do I do?”

“Margaret, I love you.  I want to spend my entire life pleasuring and protecting you.  But I am afraid I cannot help on this one,” he laughed.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.  They shall swarm like bees around me.  I do not want to share anything of our love last evening . . . and . . . this morning.  Do I have anything to fear from Lucia?”

“I am sorry, Margaret.  I meant to discuss that with you and  put your mind at ease.  No, you have nothing at all to worry about there.”

“I see Tawl standing out back.  He must have heard the carriage.  I am sure he’s hollering for Katie.  Oh dear,  I think I am more nervous now than last night and I will not even have that delirious feeling.  I know I shall sit all day dreaming about last night.  I will have to go over my paperwork.”

“What paperwork would that be?”

Margaret realized the big mistake she had just made.  She was talking about her book.  She was going to have to lie to John for the first time.  “I am sure whatever paperwork I do in the ledgers today shall have to be rechecked because my mind shall be somewhere else.  Oh, they’re all standing inside the door.  Will you walk me to the door?”

“I shall certainly try, but I think Mr. Tawl T-A-W-L Peters might wish that honor.”

“I think you are right.  Kiss my goodbye, then.  Until tonight.”

John enfolded her in his arms, pulled her to him, and brought real intimacy to her lips.  He felt she wanted to swoon so he gently pulled back.

Tawl had not missed much of that kiss to Margaret.  She looked dazed.  “Mr. Thornton, I shall escort Miss Margaret inside if you do not mind.”

“I am sure that is fine.  Margaret,  I shall see you tonight, love.”  John almost felt cruel adding the endearment love to his statement.  He was sure that told all watching that she and he had had a  magnificent evening.  He rapped his cane against the carriage top after he saw Tawl take her inside.  He had never been through anything like she was about to experience and hope it never happened to him.  Several times he had been the center of attention at award ceremonies but his congratulatory speech never included intimate details.

 

As Katie and the girls watched Tawl bring her to the steps someone mentioned she was walking strange.  There was a lot of hollering and laughing when Margaret came through the door.  If someone had smashed her face with cherries, she could not look any more red.  She was tired, aching a bit, red faced and smiling.

“Well?” one of girls asked from the back of the body pile at the back door.

“Must you ask?”  Margaret responded.

“Girls, girls.  Let us make way here and we will go to the dining room.”

Everyone seated themselves at the table, Tawl stood and Margaret gently lowered herself into the chair.

Katie, a bit concerned ask, “Do we need to call a doctor?”

“Surely not, that is unless he can remove this permanent smile on my face that I cannot seem to change.”

Everyone roared.  “We know what Margaret did.  We know what Margaret did.”  It became a chant around the table until Margaret laid her head down on the table top.

“Are you sure you only had one customer last night?”  One of the girls giggled.  Then the questions started flying at her.  Katie watched her expression and knew she was happy for her but could tell she was exhausted.

“Hush, girls.  Margaret is tired as you can see.  We’ll let her have her say and then I am putting her to bed.”

The room quieted down.  “Miss Hale, before you start, let me say this,” said Kat.  What apparently you experienced last night is nothing like what we experience.  Your lovemaking, and that’s what it was, not just sex, was soul deep.  We never encounter that.  You have achieved the ultimate peak of pleasure, someplace where we have rarely been.  Tell us what you can.”

Margaret sat quietly for what seemed a long time.  Several times she opened her mouth to speak but did not.  Finally, she formed her words.  “I shall never understand the difference between what you experience and what I did.  But I think I shall describe it in my final chapter and you shall read it there.  As I told John last night, there are no words to describe that most intimate involvement.  It is goes far beyond the physical pleasures.  I hope I can capture the essence in words.  That is all that I shall say.”

Katie rose, shushing the girls and helped Margaret to her room.  Katie closed the door behind her and had to have some questions answered for Margaret’s sake.

“Margaret, please understand that I am not being nosey but I feel I have to ask you a few questions.  Do you mind so terribly?”

“Not with you, Katie, but nothing too intimate.”

“Yes, of course.  First, are you sure you would not like to see a doctor.  There can be some injuries . . . tears . . . abrasions . . . and things like that, nothing usually too serious.”

“Thank you, but no, I do not think I need a doctor.  Should I feel the same after a good rest I may reconsider.  Please do not think that my current condition is all the doings of John.  Last night, I found someone that I have never known lived within me.  Where my eventual aggressive posturing came from is beyond my wildest understandings of the edges of myself.  Katie, it was simply marvelous.”

“And that my dear is as it should be.  You are very much in love with the man and he with you, I am sure.”

“Katie, please do not breath a word of this, but he and I are going to be married next week.  I do not want a public wedding.  I just want you and Tawl.  Tawl has begged me to let him walk me down the aisle and I shall let him.  John shall have his best friend and that’s all that will attend.

Katie rapped her arms around Margaret.  “I could not be happier for the two of you.  You are one of the best people I know and you are marrying one of Milton’s finest persons.  I do understand the privacy you want, though.  Well, I guess I do not need to ask any more questions except one.  Did your attack ever bother you last night?  I have worried about that a long time.”

“No, nothing like that happened.  John actually thought about it before I did and ask me to tell him what to do.  He was so passionate about my feelings.”

 

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This book is now available at Amazon.com

E-book available at Loyal Wynyard Books

Margaret with the Red Book – Part 47

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard

Warning: Explicit Love Scene ahead. Rated R

Margaret with the Red Book Part 47

 

Margaret felt heady.  “Where am I, again?”  She asked almost in a stupor.

“I think you were falling in love.”  John responded, pulling her face to his.

Margaret had a glimpse of the right verdict.  She said, “I think I am guilty.  Do you think I shall be hung?”

That almost broke John’s concentration.  “I sure hope so and I am just the man to do it.”

“Tell me,” she said, “would you rather be hung or off with your head?  You know, the one without the brain?”

That did it, John flopped her over and laughed while rolling partly on top of her.  “I shall certainly go for the former and I think you shall too.  At least that is my life’s wish.”

Margaret gasped as John sought her breasts with his tongue.  She hoped he would never stop.  They seemed to be aching for his attention.

John swept her back up to a sitting position and started to unbutton her clothing.  But then he let his arms fall.  Reality came back to him and wondered where her fears may lie having been raped.  “Margaret, I love you.  I love you like I have loved no one ever in my life.  I want you.  I want all of you.  I want every piece of you and not for just a night.  I want you forever.  I am so anxious to pleasure you that I had momentarily forgotten what fears may be lingering.  I know I am probably being too rough or too fast because I want to love you so much.  But most of all, I do not want to compound any doubts or bring back bad memories to ruin what we have.  Tell me what to do.” John said in a very sincere voice.

“John, I am guilty as charged.  I am ready for whatever the court deems necessary to pleasure me.”  Margaret was glad for the dark.  She was blushing shamelessly.

John kissed her tenderly.  How could he say thank you for the gift he was about to receive and bestow.  He calmed himself and returned to all of her buttons and snaps and laces.  He could feel Margaret struggle for the buttons on his shirt.  He helped her and just pulled it over his head.

Margret found herself staring at his magnificent chest with its fine light coating of hair.  The moon had moved enough and was beginning to fill the room.  She paid no attention to his struggles with her clothing; she just wanted to run her hands across his very male breast and abdomen.  She was dazed.  She saw John smiling.  He was happy that she found great approval in his body.  Becoming conscious of his efforts, she rolled out of the bed and stood on the floor finishing where John left off.  Suddenly everything but her underwear pooled to the floor.  She closed her eyes and held her breath while she pulled the rest off.  She stood there in the moonlight with her eyes closed afraid of what she might see on John’s face.  He had had so many women she felt she could easily be a disappointment or even . . . compared to Lucia.  When she opened her eyes finally, John was naked standing just about in front of her.  He put his arms on her shoulders and stood her away from him and looked her all over her.  He sighed with such delight Margaret felt she could expel her breath.

“I did not know God made such beauty,” he said.  “I have been with many women and knew what to expect but I did not expect this . . . this stunning gift that you give me tonight and I hope forever.  You take my breath away.”

Margaret could do nothing but look John straight in the eyes.  She was so worried about pleasing him that she did not think to look at her gift, but she knew he would be perfect anyway.

John pulled her to him, letting her acquaint herself with his body while he pulled the pins from her hair.  He kissed her tenderly while pulling her buttocks tightly against him.  She moaned and John felt her knees begin to waver.  He picked her up and gently laid her on the bed.

Take me, she silently pleaded to herself, too ashamed to speak the words of her body.

He did not do that right away.  He moved down her body while holding her wrists and met the crevice of her breasts.  She arched.  He smiled.  He started licking the top rounding of her breasts and her little gasps started.  He knew he would not torture her this first time.  Those wonderful times would come when she was fully aware of all the feelings she could have and then he would have more to give her.  He circled each nipple and then suckled from her.  John could feel her breasts lifting up and down from her rapid breathing.  John knew he not only had the woman of spirit but the woman of passion.  All his prayers were answered.  After nibbling her breasts he slid back up for more sweet deep kisses.  He pulled one of her hands away from his hair and encouraged her to touch him.

“Oh my God,” he heard her whisper.”  He kissed her deeply and ran his hand down to the center of her legs.  She stiffened which he expected and gently and ever so slowly nudged them apart.  He felt her moistness and he knew they were there.  He left his palm covering her and slowly messaged her womanly folds.

Margaret was on fire.  Holding John’s penis in her hand was extraordinary, she thought but then her mind would run back to where he was engaged.  She felt herself starting to build into some crazed desire.  The red book went out of her mind, she did not know what to do now.

John kissed her breasts again and then continued down.  He raised up and slid between her legs and returned to kissing all of her.  Margaret was starting to writhe and arch.

Without warning she felt his tongue feeding from her most private parts.  The sensation overwhelmed her embarrassment.  “John, what are you doing to me?”

“John lifted his head and said, “It is not what I am doing to you but what I am doing for you.”  “And myself,” he added.  “Please just relax and allow me this pleasure for both of us.  Do not hold back on anything, just let everything flow over and through you.  I said I wanted to love all of you and I meant it.”

With the next suckle and lick, Margaret strangled out a small sob.  She arched and gasped and moaned.  John could tell she was far from finding the end of her orgasm.  He positioned himself for entry and found she wanted to assist.  He readied himself for her reaction to his size and took his time.

“John, please.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No, please take me.  I need you to fill me.  I need something and I know you must know what it is.”  Margaret tried to arch up to him.

John worked his stroke slowly ensuring her moisture was enough for him . . . and it was.

“Oh John!” she cried.

He loved her calling his name. He thrust into her soft warm sheath.  Her contractions that held him from pulling out where heaven sent.  He wanted it to last and last but he knew he was at the end of his control and his Margaret was too.  She was at the brink of her climax; everything within her was tensing for the eruption.  As John took them over the edge he felt her legs quivering.

“John,” she shouted.  God how he loved her and her love sounds.  The shouting was replaced with softer moans that just continued and her descent lasted a long time.  John felt his chest swell again from the pride in his ability to make her pleasured the way he seemed to be doing.  He could not withdraw for a long time as she was struggling to come back to consciousness.  He thought to himself how incredible lovemaking was when you were in love.  It far surpassed anything other sensual feelings he had ever experienced.

John rose up and looked into her face but held back his kiss because of the smile she had.  She was smiling with her eyes closed, rolling her head from side to side.

“John,  there are no words.”

“I know, Margaret.  I know . . . but not until tonight with you.”  He leaned down and kissed her and she pulled him hard to her.

“I love you, Mr. John Thornton.”

“And I love you, Miss Margaret Hale.”

“When did you think you were falling in love with me?”  Margaret asked as she rolled onto her side and looked into his face.

“Oh, I am fairly certain it was when I met you and Tawl outside the courthouse.  I was quite interested in your from our first introduction and even inquired to Miss Leeds for more information about you.  She did not give me much, just so you know.  But I think when I met you outside the courthouse that seemed to solidify all my thoughts of you.  I feared for the first time in my life that you would not let me try to win you.  Your secrets at that point were keeping you from living and you would not let me break the shell.  Well, I think you heart is out of the closet.  What do you say?”

“I think she is out in the bright full day and wanting more sun.”

“More?”  John smiled, rolled her over on her back and kissed her deeply again.  “Surely, all those books You are reading have told you that we men need a little bit of time to gather more sun.”

“John, how can I thank you for bringing me this incredible pleasure and bringing my life back to me?”

“I only know one way you can thank me.”

“Whatever it is, I shall do it,” Margaret said.

“Will you marry me and make my life complete?”  John stroked her cheek and looked deeply into her eyes as he spoke.

“If you would not mind a small private ceremony?”

“Small and private or anyway you want as long as you say ‘I do’ at the right place.”

“I love you Master Thornton.”

“I love you Madam Hale,” John said laughing as he felt a pillow slam into his face.

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This book is now available at Amazon.com

E-book available at Loyal Wynyard Books

Margaret with the Red Book Pt 41

Margaret with the Red Book

Margaret with the Red Book by Loyal Wynyard

 

 

Miss Hale,

 

I have done nothing but think about you since last Saturday evening.  I respectfully ask that you attend a dinner at my home this Wednesday at 7:00 pm.  My coach shall pick you up.  We have a lot to discuss, so tell Miss Leeds not to wait up for you.  I may not be able to let you return home until our details are settled.

                                                                                          “J”

 

John smiled as he folded the note wondering how she would take these words.  He tried to look past his own future happiness and see things from her perspective.  Where would her hesitations be?  What mountains would he gladly climb?  When they were alone now, she seemed more at ease with him but he would have to engage his attention more on her attitude in public.  Would she feel she was going to be an embarrassment for him?  There could be nothing in her financial fall that could matter and John felt that would be an easy hurdle once she could pass the words through her lips.  His Lordship, the noble, figured heavily into her life, it seemed.  Her avoidance of him far surpassed propriety at any level.  That was still there for him to comfort her.  John was haunted by the reason for the noble’s visit, now that he knew somewhat of the story.  How had that affected Margaret?  Then there was Lucia, who he had visited at the brothel.  What could Margaret find in her imagination to worry her?  He would resolve that at their next visit. The red book was like a present under the tree.  It had been many years since he was a boy at Christmas.  There was a magical gift out there waiting to be unwrapped and cherished.  He had decided not to delve into that with Margaret and let it blossom on its own.  Many men learned a lot from that book, why shouldn’t an innocent woman have the same questions and interests.  He laughed to himself at his modern thinking . . . but she was living in a brothel.  Surely, she was hearing words and whispered deeds that had sparked her interest and she was too embarrassed to ask.  Margaret with the red book, someday . . .

 

Katie sat there with the biggest grin Margaret had ever seen as she finished recounting her weekend.  The book and John Thornton . . . her life was changing.

Katie walked over to Margaret from where she sat in her office, pulled her to her feet and hugged her.  “You see!  I was right.  I raised you and I know you!  I could not be happier for anyone for anything in my life more than what you have told me today.  Oh, how I would have loved to have been you this weekend, even with that confrontation with your old school mate.  Apparently Mr. Thornton gave her no quarter and what it must have taken to find you in that big city.  He is a true romantic.  You have a treasure there, my girl.”

“I think so, too, but I do not know that I have him.  You know of all the women that want him and which he has probably . . . well, you know.  I cannot believe that my sad story has pulled him from all the others.  I am but one more in the long line for him to compare. There have not been any words past lust that have been spoken.  I have a lot of plans to carry out and shall not allow myself the luxury of hoping . . . not yet, anyway.”

Smiling broadly, Katie proceeded,” So how are you handling your own inner feelings of lust and sensuality?   And do not try and tell me you feel nothing when you are near him.”

Margaret looked down blushing.  She embarrassingly said, “There’s nothing in the books that quite describe it entirely.  I try to push my guilt out of the way and let myself be swallowed up in it; I think I am missing even more than it could be.  Why are women brought up so rigid.  Their own sexuality is never spoken of or if it is, it is in whispers.  After the shock, that I hid so well, you and the girls have opened my eyes to our own bodies.  I can remember as a young child, before you, being bathed in my chemise so as not to even see myself.  From that leap to this one is monumental for me.  If it progresses and I feel and John feels we are destined for a life together, I am sure I shall disappoint him.”

“Margaret, you are a smart woman to be this frustrating.  Somehow you have taken on that attitude because you live here in a house that pleasures men for money.  You cannot equate yourself to the girls here or live with the rigid code of etiquette you found at finishing school and find total happiness in a marriage.  Dear, you are a kind, sweet, intelligent and caring young woman.  When you find the love of your life, which I am sure you have, allow yourself to be immersed in all the lust and desires and pleasures you can grab.  He shall want to pleasure you more than himself and you shall feel the same.  There is no shame – there is only nature.  I know this must sound completely opposite from what you have been writing but maybe you should think about adding a happy chapter at the end of your own experiences from a loving man.  You seem to dwell on sex and the repercussions to where it can lead you.  That is the bad side of the coin that you are seeing.  There is a beautiful side that you know nothing about, but I think you are about to discover.”

“I just received a note from him.  Here . . . you read it.”

Katie started laughing at the part about maybe not being expected home.  “I think you are closer than you thought.  I sure hope so.  It is not so much the sexual pleasure, it is the love that goes along with it.”

“Oh, Katie!  You are making me nervous, now.”

“Well, just in case, let us sit down and talk about a few things.”

 

 

Dear Amber,

 

I was sorry for your abrupt departure in London at our appointed time.  I feel there are issues that you and I must discuss and understand clearly.  There appears to be several areas of confusion on my part and I would like for you to help me separate conjecture from assumptions and misunderstandings.

I shall hope that you can oblige me with a dinner out tomorrow evening.  I shall pick you up at 7:00 in the evening.  Please reply if you will not attend.

                                                                                          John

 

Amber lounged on her sofa and contemplated her response and course of action.  The note was very casual with no hint of any emotional attachment.  She now felt quite sure that Margaret Hale had told John a lot about her past, but at least she did not know it all to tell.  With what happened to Miss Hale dropping out of the social scene immediately after graduation, she could not know much with the people she associated with now.  She was determined to find out where Miss Hale lived before that day was over and ask her directly what she had told John.  Keeping John to herself was all too important not to do research on the suspicions John seemed to allude to in the note.  Maybe he wanted to know more about Miss Hale’s rape, giving it more thought after she had left.  That must be it but she had to be sure what she would be walking into.  She remembered seeing her near the book shop the last day she saw John outside of it.  Maybe the book merchant would have an address of her.  She readied herself and left her apartment for her day.  She wanted to have an answer by tomorrow morning to be delivered to John by mid-afternoon.

 

Amber was accosted with the sound of two ding-a-lings as she opened and closed the merchant’s door.  She strolled the aisles as the shopkeeper came from the back.  Finally pulling any book from the shelf she walked to the counter.  “Oh, it is good to see you.  You are just the man I had been hoping was here.  A week or so back, I had a conversation with John Thornton in here, you may remember?”

He nodded affirmatively.  “How can I help you?”

I learned from Mr. Thornton that day that an old school mate of mine, Margaret Hale, is now residing in Milton but I do not know where.  I believe she is a customer of yours?”  Amber said with a questioning tone.

“Oh yes.  I know Miss Hale quite well.  She is a regular customer.  Is there something you need of Miss Hale?”

“Yes, I would like to send her a note and ask for a visit.  Could you possibly have her address listed somewhere?”  Mr. Davies, isn’t it?”  Amber asked politely.

Smiling because she remembered his name, Mr. Davies leaned under the counter for his file box and set it on top of the counter.  As he did that, he heard his wife call his name.  “Please excuse me for one moment.  My wife is ill and I must tend to her.  I shall return directly.”

“Please, take your time.  I am in no hurry.”  Like hell, she was in no hurry.  As she heard Mr. Davies ascending some stairs, she opened the card file box and found Margaret Hale’s address.  Apparently, she was staying with a Miss Leeds.  She hoped she could talk with Margaret privately when she arrived unexpectedly.  Amber called up the steps to old Mr. Davies, “I am sorry.  I must go.  I have forgotten an important engagement.  I shall return for that address within a few days.  Thank you!” she hollered.

From a distance she heard Mr. Davies starting to reply in kind and apologize.  His words were not even out of his mouth when he heard the ding-a-ling of the door opening.

Hailing a hackney cab, the driver pulled to the side and jumped down to open the door for his lady passenger.  Amber handed him a scrap piece of a paper with a name and address, asking the driver if he knew the whereabouts of Miss Leeds.

“Yes, Miss.  I know where that is.  Are you sure you want to go there?”

“Do not be so impertinent.  Of course I want to go there or I would not have asked,” Amber condescended to the driver while accepting his hand on entering the cab.

“I am sorry, Miss,” the driver said.  “I just have not taken many women to that address.”  The driver started to return to his box when Amber called him back.

“What do you mean?  What’s at this address,” she demanded to know.

“Miss, that is a Gentleman’s Club, if you get my drift.”

“Do you mean like a brothel or bordello?”  Amber said, finding it hard to control the smile that wanted to break out.

“Yes, Miss, but it is very high-class.  Only wealthy gentlemen go there.  Do you still want to go?”

“I sure do and be quick about it,” said Amber, pulling her head back into the cab.