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Old 02-16-2016, 05:41 PM   #101
Xyantha Reborn
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This is not forgotten - I've had to write and rewrite the ending a few times. Just didn't feel...right. I am working on this a bit each day....

Thanks for your patience!
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Old 02-26-2016, 07:17 PM   #102
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Chapter 24

“Harry?” She stuttered as she raised her head. Wide hazel eyes regard him.

“Easy now, little one.” Taking up his pen knife, he nicked the bottom of her dress. “We are just going to take the scenic route.” Taking up a grip on either side, he gazed into her eyes as he leisurely tore upwards.

Clarice licked the edge of her lips, smooth, round cheeks turning pink. Even so, she looked more eager than horrified. In fact, her glittering eyes were glued to his hands, her lips falling open in the slightest pant.

The suddenly wonton woman in front of him made him half crazed to see what she would do when completely freed from self and societal restraint. He had always suspected fire under that ice of reserve. Her shifting caused her hips roll towards him tauntingly, all the more enticing because totally natural.

Removing one shoe, he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder, fingers gently caressing the pink sole as it was bared “Oh, ticklish, are we?” He purred as she squeaked, foot almost jerking from his grasp. “Look at how pretty your feet are,” he marvelled, sliding his palms over her foot to her ankle. Her plump ankles flared out to a thick yet shapely calf. Elevating her leg, he trailed kisses to the inner corner of her knee. Darting his tongue out to touch her skin, he blew lightly.

Yessssss - there was a dimple.

“Harry!” she cried, flinching and shivering at the sensation, her other knee falling open in unconscious invitation.

“Yes?” he inquired with false innocence as he slid a lazy palm across her soft skin. Abruptly removing his hand, he tilted his head in inquiry. “Am I to stop?” His shoulders tensed, wondering how he would entice her if she said no.

She made a sound of frustration, tugging at her bonds, but shook her head fast enough.

“If you want me to stop, all you have to do is tell me.” He canted his head to the side, waiting for a request to desist. “No? Well, then I think we should get back to business – and I am overdressed.” Kneeling on the bed, he half shrugged out of, half peeled off his jacket. Grasping his shirt in his hands, he wrenched it off and threw it aside.

Wide hazel eyes were darting over his form, lips parted.

“You like?”

The reply was as breathy and candid as her glance. “Oh, yes.”

A grin tugged at his lips. “I am glad – as I very, very much like what I see,” he murmured, gently digging his fingers into her thighs. Devoid of much muscle, they felt pillowy soft under creamy skin. “This is still in my way, though,” he added with a tsk as he gazed down at the thin cloth separating them. “I suppose I will have to rip it a bit more. I hope this was not a special outfit – you did like this very much, did you?”

“No - Oh!” She cried as over a foot of fabric was instantly sundered.

Every inch was better than the last. Her thighs were thicker than he had imagined, and his pants grew tighter at the thought of those pale trunks wrapping around him. From the bottom of her soft, plump feet, up her calves, her thighs…everything was perfect. Better than he could possibly have imagined. Her skin was so pale and transparent that he could see the delicate veins pulse under the surface.

Sliding her hands up, his hands encountered more and more padded flesh as he approached that point on a woman’s physique were the thigh touched. “Oh, good girl,” he growled, unable to resist the temptation of grasping a handful of it. Just beyond, a dark shadow taunted him, and he locked gaze with it. Satisfaction and anticipation warred in him. He wouldn’t say what he was thinking. They would most certainly offend or at least shock her, but her lips below were as lovely as those above. No hint of her inner folds were visible until she shifted, offering the slightest peep between the forest of delicate curls,

“Good?”

Climbing up her body, he straddled her, ever cognizant to avoid putting pressure on her chest. “Yes. Good girl.” He could tell she liked that despite the way her little chin rose up in defiance. “But you have been very naughty. You’ve teased me for ages. I think someone is going to get a taste of her own medicine.” Edging back down her body, he kissed each inch that his rips produced. When he reached her stomach, he buried his face in the softness with a happy groan.

*~*~*

This was most definitely was not what she had imagined!

Squirming lightly against her bonds, the heiress desperately tried to remain cool and focused as her body was slowly exposed and, apparently, thoroughly enjoyed. Her experimental tugs proved that the knots were sturdy. Drat.

Not that she had any urge to slide her own hands across his taut skin and rippling muscles. None at all!

And she certainly did not like feeling his whiskers scratch across her skin as if marking her!

Clarice had determined that she would be cool, and poised. Allow him to claim what he had wanted for so long. Instead, she was panting and squirming, her traitorous body thoroughly enjoying his lazy petting, almost to the point of exquisite frustration. She was barely able to concentrate on his words, but his low rumbles made her skin tingle pleasantly.

Any thought she might have had about being thinner was banished by his eager and soft cupping off all her softest parts. Despite this not so subtle reminder of her weakness, anticipation quickly turned to eagerness, which in turn moved on to a frantic emotion that Clarice had no words for. She wanted to kick and strain and move and do something, anything, to bring this to an end! And yet, the desire for this never to end also burned brightly.

It was not just a handful of lazy pets and a mount, a few grunts, and then rolling off. He seemed, in spite of his long wait for her, determined to take the scenic route. As he had said. Harry toured every inch of landscape that her body allowed with coupled excitement and thoroughly enjoyed patience

Who knew how ticklish the backs of her knees were? Or how a single suck to her nipple caused her heart to jolt in her chest?

When he spread her knees and began kissing his way down her thighs, she raised her head again. His head was so close to her sex that she could not see it above the mound of her stomach. “Harry? What are you – ”

His strong fingers spread her, and something touched the tip of her sex. All the air left her lungs as she realized what it was. When his strong tongue lapped firmly, Clarice felt her jaws clench in unknown pleasure. Her own fingers had not been able to accomplish what his skilled fingers and mouth were wringing from her.

– oh, God! It was not clear even to herself if her cry was taken in vain, or a plea for mercy.

His ever so slightly calloused fingertips scraped along her skin. Although warm, they sent thrills through her.

This was torturous!

She could feel him clearly. His lips were closed around her sex, his tongue flicking. Above her dazed eyes, light from the fire cast beautiful shadows on the roof. To her side, rain pattered against the window. And betwixt her legs, a gorgeous man worked away, pleasuring her.

His torso was deliciously muscled. Strong shoulders met with arms bulging with muscle. Below his chest, his tight, hard stomach flexed as he moved. A line of dark hair started below his belly button, gathering thickness as it disappeared. His right hand was busy about his pants, and – She flushed, averting her eyes as she realized his own were locked with hers.

When she finally looked back, he was gazing back at her with a lazy smirk on his face, licking his lips like a cat who had gotten into the cream. And casually stroking something just out of her sight. “In a rush, are we? Tsk, patience, my dear. You made me suffer for months. I am sure you can hold out a few moments.”

Her head was up, staring at his activities with her lower lip caught between her teeth. He was kneading her inner thighs lightly, and his words only registered dimly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you suffer,” she moaned, hips flexing under his light petting.

Harry lay beside her, casually trailing the backs of his fingers between her breasts. Pausing, he met her eyes. When he did speak, his voice was flat and sombre. “Yes. You did.”

“No - I just wanted to make you truly want me,” she returned, whimpering as he removed his hands from her and shifted.

He was backing away on hands and knees down the bed, continuing as if she had not spoken. “And now, if you want me to believe you, you will need to truly want me. You’ll have to make me believe it.”

“I do! I do!” Clarice cried, wild to make this end. If he continued, she would simply burst into a hundred pieces!

Harry shook his head, a roughish dimple appearing as one side of his mouth lifted. “Sorry, love. That was just not good enough. You’ll have to try harder next time.” And parting her thick thighs once more, he placed his mouth over her again – and sucked.

Stars burst behind her eyes, and the prisoner whimpered, head and back arching in response.

*~*~*

Harry chuckled into her as her throws became more frantic, reaching up to play with her rosy, jutting nipples. Her moist sex clenched and throbbed against his tongue – she would be at her climax soon. Too soon. Rubbing his cheek against her leg, he sat back up on his heels and regarded her.

“Do not stop! Oh God! Please, please do not stop!”

“Remember all those nights? When you would cut me loose after an evening of flirting? This. This is what is felt like.”

She groaned, bringing her elbows and knees together. “I am sorry!” the heiress cried again, this time sounding miserable and woeful – and sincere.

The man chuckled, palming her breasts before sliding a hand along her side. Softness everywhere. A man could die happy, buried in a body like hers. Part of him still disbelieved that this was actually happening.

Suddenly, a canny light grew in those hazel eyes. “It is… hurting!” the heiress cried, her hesitant stuttering and flitting eyes giving away her lie. “You said – you said you would stop if it hurt!”

Shifting her, he spanked her. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt her but his hand tingled, and his cock as well. “Don’t be naughty,” he growled, emphasising his words with another swat. “No more games!” To his delight, he could tell by her writhing body that she liked that – quite a bit.

“For God’s sake, Harry, have mercy!”

“Why?” he growled, grasping her shoulders and shaking slightly. “You’ve had none for me for months now! Tell me why!”



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Old 02-27-2016, 04:12 PM   #103
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Ooooo delicious!
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Old 02-29-2016, 10:57 AM   #104
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Quote:
Originally Posted by SilkySunshine View Post
Ooooo delicious!
Indeed!

.... And she teases *us* by stopping right there!
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Old 02-29-2016, 11:02 AM   #105
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sorrynotsorry!!

I have the next one written, i just need to edit my atrocious grammer
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Old 02-29-2016, 08:37 PM   #106
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FIN

Clarice felt her mouth drop open to retort, but caught her words back in time. ‘You won and it is not well bred to gloat’ was hardly going to soothe his temper.

She considered her options and probabilities. Or tried. Had he really endured this sort of almost pain? This sense of agonizing frustration? It hardly seemed possible. She could barely think rationally! Tugging at her restraints and twisting about, she protruded her lower lip in a sulk.

He sucked it.

A pleasurable jolt ricocheted down her body, and she arched her back, pressing her bare front against his. The feel of his hot skin against hers was shocking. She could feel one of his nipples scrape across her skin, his dark hair scratch at her skin. After a few moments Harry shifted back, and she fell back on the bed with a growl of irritation.

There was no way to articulate the pain and confusion she had gone through. How her family had turned on her; her so called friends had abandoned her. Everything she had thought she wanted seemed to pitiful, so hollow. She wanted to be loved and respected, as well as love and respect her husband.

Harry was not her equal in some ways; but then, he freely admitted it. He did not try to chain her down, hold her back, and limit her. He respected her. And if Raoul’s behaviour was any indication, he would be as liberal and tolerant as his sibling.

And that sibling, and his wife, seemed to accept her with open arms. Of course Clarice adored Kitty, and would have loved her husband as best she could. But Raoul had a wickedness, a teasing and trying temperament that was hard not to smile at – at times.

His pupils were blown out, his jaw set. That stubble that she had often seen come in the evening covered his jaw, each hair close enough to see. Large muscles flexed as he shifted his position, predatory and expectant. She had not known how much she looked forward to his mere presence. That comforting and yet titillating person had been thrust out of her life for a moment. When he had appeared in her room, that deep ache of loneliness had ceased.

When he had pulled open the carriage door, that same feeling.

“Because I want you!” she finally confessed, frustrated and humiliated at her helplessness. And yet, simultaneously helplessly enjoying the circumstance.

Instead of his gloating expression increasing unbearably, it immediately softened. An inward happiness suffused through his face, a gathering emotion rising. “Do you now?” he asked in a lowered tone. Those grey eyes, rimmed with dark lashes, half lowered.

“Yes!”

“Took you long enough,” he observed, a shade of pique settling over his features.

She hoped her baleful emotion was properly being conveyed in her glare. “As you have accused me in the past - I am a stubborn creature.” And yet, the corner of her mouth twitched at that familiar pouty look.

“That you are,” he drawled, that smile that had been absent for so long reappearing. A half cocky curl of his lips, over which his eyes softened with happiness. Leaning forward, he kissed each of her eyelids, her nose, and her lips. “Say it again, then.”

She wanted to say other words, but felt foolish to utter them - and still feared they were false. “I want you.” Her eyes, which she had closed in enjoyment, fluttered open at feeling her bonds loosen. “Harry?”

“Shh, little dove.”

With her hands freed, Clarice was suddenly placed in a new dilemma – what to do with them. It felt unnatural to hold them still, at her side. But to touch him…! Her hands were gently captured and pressed to his chest. Hard muscle lurked under the taut skin. As her hands slipped down the ridges of his stomach, the muscles contracted. Below…below that, dense hair crinkled against her fingertips.

Heat flooded her face.

He chuckled, laying on his side. “There will be no secrets between us now…I will be yours, and you will be mine. Look, if you like.”

Her eyes had fastened on the bed sheet, but she slowly raised them to gaze at his manhood. It bobbed, seeming to swell under her very gaze. Below, his purse alternately tightened and loosened, growing transparent one moment, and slightly wrinkled the next. Veins lined the surface, and the tip swelled over it. Dark hair surrounded it. It looked different than the rest of his skin, and she found herself curious to know what it felt like.

Harry made an odd noise, somewhere between a grunt and a hiss.

Gaze flying up, she half recoiled. “What did I do wrong? Did I hurt you?”

A strained chuckle. “Not at all love. I’ve been imagining you touching me for ages now. Those lips wrapped around me…”

Those lips dropped open at the mere thought of it. Swallowing, she leaned forward. “People do not…truly do that.” It was only half a statement.

His teeth flashed in a grin, and he winked. “Didn’t you like it when my mouth was on you?”


At the reminder, she shivered. Although not brave enough to do anything of the sort, she extended her fingers again. The veins bulged against the skin, and a bead of wetness was at the tip. Driven by curiosity, after a few gentle pets, Clarice wrapped her hand around it.

“That’s my girl,” Harry groaned, voice hoarse. His large hand reached across the distance and gently ticked at her opening.

Shocked, her hand closed around it.

“That’s my GOOD girl,” he growled, rolling his hips into her hand.

The reality of what they were about to do was not sinking in. This was another marker stone on the path she had willingly let herself be taken down. She was in a bed, unmarried, with a handsome man. Her hand was on him, and his on hers. And she was about to lose her maidenhood. “Just - promise me you will marry me soon.”

“Get him and I’ll marry you here and now.”

“Be serious, Harry!” His breath blasted across her neck after he released her lips.

“I’ve been chasing you for months now. Maybe you should marry me instead.”

She shook her head, bemused at his odd mood. “You are a strange man…Have you been drinking?”

“Just love drunk. I’m in bed with the woman I love. And,” he added with a touch of exasperation and more than a dash of hint, “If she stops talking for a trice, I am going to make her mine in the flesh…”

A retort would have been her natural response, but suddenly that swollen member was rubbing along her slippery slope, and the tip pressed at her opening. “Oh.” Biting her lip, she reclined back, trying to prepare herself.

“None of that,” Harry said, half lifting her by her hips to straddle him. “This is how we will be doing it, so that I can watch this beauty ride me.”

It hurt at first, but not nearly as much as she had thought it would. As she slowly wriggled down on his hot shaft, the burning sensation of pain faded into a burning of pleasure when he shifted inside her. When he reached up and pinched her nipples, her eyes slid shut in joy.

“Ah, ah! Eyes open, little missy. I want to see those pretty eyes.”

Dragging her suddenly heavy lids open, Clarice tried to concentrate on him. But he was not even looking at her eyes.

His gaze was fastened on her body, and as he carefully thrust under her, a look of strange concentration, almost a trance, stole over his face. Her ribs were not hurting, but her rapid breathing was causing them to ache slightly. He seemed to sense it, and slowly eased her off of him to lay on the bed.

A feeling of utter displeasure replaced the confusion she had felt. Wriggling slightly, she reached down to guide him in. She could wonder at her audacity later. All she could think right now was – IN!

He flashed a look of surprise, then delight. Bracing his upper body over hers, he began thrusting.

This was not the same as the gentle strokes of a few moments ago. Who knew that a simple change of position could cause – this? Something inside her clenched and ached at a certain point in every thrust, and she angled her hips, wrapping her legs around him to prolong that contact. Her eyes must have rolled back in her head, because she could see the wall behind her, along with the top of the bed frame. That pleasurable sort of burning feeling was replaced with the frantic pleasure of scratching an itch one has had all night long.

The muscular upper body was slowly bowing towards hers, sweat sheening his skin as his motions became almost frantic, only to pause, thrust, and pause again.

The normally placid heiress muffled her unladylike cries by biting a mouthful of his shoulder. Her fingers knotted into his back as her entire body clenched. Deep inside her, she felt his shaft pulse, even as her own muscles squeezed of their own volition. Suddenly those clenching sensations she had felt while looking at him made sense. She might not have known what to expect, but her body clearly had.

Harry was hanging over her woozily on his elbows, trying to summon enough energy to move without placing pressure on her ribs.

And –

She felt the oddest urge to break into hysterical laughter. A little bit of the emotion burbled up, and so did tears. Within moments, she was laughing so hard her rib twanged, all while relentless tears rolled down her face.

“Oh God, did I hurt you?” Suddenly frantic, Harry lurched upright.

“N - no!” she half wailed, throwing her forearm over her eyes. “I’m – just …so happy!”

Once again, those powerful arms wrapped around her, pulling her into him.

Clarice swallowed her sobs long enough to choke out, “I love you!”

His Adams apple bobbed against her head as he tucked her under his chin. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “And I love you, Clarice.”

~*~*~

She woke up from the arms of sleep to find herself in Harry’s arms, his lips at her nape and his cock pressed into her ass. His hand gently stroked and kneaded her wide hips. As she lay still, that big hand dipped across her body, gently grasping the softest part of her stomach.

When she rolled over, suddenly conscious of her naked form – which was no painter’s model - she looked for any sign of regret or disgust. The only expressions on his face were delight and a sort of hunger.

But she still subtly shifted so the fattest parts of her were properly hidden under the damp blanket. Her own eyes locked on his form, suddenly curious to see if her second perusal met the incredibly high standards of the first. Clarice was not disappointed. In fact, remembering the salty taste of his skin, she salivated, leaning over to press her lips against his skin once more.

When Harry caught her gaze as she sat back, he winked that roguish wink and settled back on the bed more comfortably. Extending those strong arms, he placed a sketch she had not noticed he held on the side table. He placed his hands behind his head. “Well then, show me how much you want me.”

Where to start, what to do? She was throbbing for him again at the memory of him filling her, and her eyes fluttered in pleasure as she straddled his thigh. That pressure against her felt good, and she shifted to press harder.

His arms remained behind his head, appreciative gaze locked on her.

The normally poised woman swallowed, embarrassed and at a loss. She couldn’t begin to do what he had done to her. Could she? She was no woman of the night, to know how to pleasure a man, or touch him!

That sudden reminder floated to the surface, instantly dampening her spirits.

The man seemed to sense it, brows contracting. “What is it?”

It was stupid. Every woman knew it was a matter of course. But the idea of Harry entangled in the arms of that whore, and the knowledge he would do it again, immediately dampened the connection she felt with him. “Nothing. Just resigning myself to wifely duties.”

He sat up, cupping her face in his hands and trying to look into her eyes. “And this is what you think this is? A chore to be endured?” After a moment of scrutiny, he blurted, “You are jealous! Oh, Clarice, you have nothing to be jealous of, I assure you!”

“I am not jealous,” she retorted, turning her face away. Gentle pressure pulled her face to his.

His eyes laughed down into hers. “You think I would stray.” It was not a question. “Clarice…I would never.”

“You already did.”

The tender expression grew fierce, more akin to his brother’s looks. “Now see here. You toyed with me for months. Made it damn blasted clear you had no interest in me. I’m not such a spoony as that!”

Nevermind that they were still entangled in each other’s arms. Apparently they were both sore over this point, because her temper flared too. “I was trying!” Claire retorted, punching the bed with her fist. “You hated me!” and she shoved at his chest. It felt amazing, so she did it again. The flesh under her hands was warm, and hard as rock.

“Clarice,” he rumbled, voice full of warning.

More shoves. “I did! I did! You dolt!”

The wide jaw clenched. “Since when?” He demanded.

“Since forever! I was cruel to play with your affections, and I am sorry! However, I sincerely was trying to gain your affection since Raoul arrived in town!”

“What about Westmore?”

Clarice could not supress the wild contortion of disgust that spasmed across her face. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, shuddering at the thought of him touching her in the way Harry had. His alternating unctuous and condescending face gazing at her between her own legs….Ugh!!

Her reaction, though impolite, immediately relaxed the tense set of his shoulders. “I promise to never stray.”

She shook her head, holding up a hand to ward of his words. “Do not say something you do not mean. I bind people to their agreements.”

“Good. Then I swear to you that as long as you open your bed and arms to me, I will not stray.”

Her brows contracted, and she considered the wording carefully. “What do you mean by closing my arms and bed?”

“I will never force you. But do not go cold and turn me away.”

“Oh. That sounds…reasonable.” A curious tilt of the head. “Are you not going to ask for an oath from me?”

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “No. I will wait until you offer one.”

Clarice had thought of herself as an equal to her Father in many ways. A business partner. But he had still informed her of decisions, and demanded compliance. Harry must know she would never cuckold him, but she still said the words aloud.

Harry’s broad hand caressed her cheek. “I love you Clarice. Shh. Say nothing. When you are ready – but never say those words out of obligation. Ever.”

That strange edge had come into his voice again. Time enough to learn about what was troubling him later – both him and Raoul both got that odd look and tone at times. For now - “I do love you.” She had hesitated – not because she did not believe the words, but because it still felt new and strange.

His lips curled in a smile. “Do you think you would like to take a bath while they change the bedding?”

Oh – heavenly! “But who will help wash me?” she blurted, abruptly realizing she was without a maid.

That smile widened into a grin. “Who indeed.”

“No wonder Kitty always looks exasperated! Between you two boys…!” Standing, she shook her head playfully.

Instead of an answering gleam, shutters dropped down over his eyes. “I am not like my brother.”

“Thank heaven.”

Clearly thrown at this distinctive and final sounding response, he padded to the bell. He cast several self-conscious and curious glances back at her, rubbing the back of his head. Finally, he ducked his head and grinned.

Foolish man. Although the idea that he had his own insecurities was actually rather soothing to her pride, and she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to keep a straight face. The sketch caught her eyes, and she took it up. Clarice stared in horror, hands going to her hair. “Good lord, is that what my hair looks like?”

“Really?” Harry demanded, throwing up his hands in disgust and whirling away. “The hair is what you focused on?”

So many emotions were rioting within her that it was utterly impossible for her to move, and she could only stare at him as he placed his fists on his hips. “Why do you draw me like that?”

“Like what?” he asked in a low voice, still facing away from her.

“Like…like I am pretty.”

He gave a huff of laughter. “Well, if that is how the portrait comes out, all I can say is I am a shoddier artist than I gave myself credit for. I am trying to draw you as gorgeous as you are. Clearly I fail at even that.”

“You truly think I am pretty?”

He looked flummoxed, canting his head at her. “Pretty? Hardly. More like the most stunning beauty I have ever met, who is wildly intelligent.”

Flatterer! And he was hers.

Or would be officially once they eloped. Her brain began to churn on that point, working out details, revisiting wording of contracts.

“…And I just lost her,” Harry muttered.

There was, of course, the problem of her family. Although once married much of that would fall away. Most of the money, would, of course, be withheld from her. But there would be enough to invest in this estate, pull it around, and hopefully profit in a few short few years.

Oh! And then there was that delightful business of their Aunt. What fun Kitty and she would have, unravelling that rat’s nest.

“Clarice?”

His voice disturbed her whirling thoughts. “Shh….” A deep chuckle answered her - and her bottom was patted, much to her scandalized sensibilities and pleasure. “Harry!”

“Get used to it, love. You can plot from the bed, because I am not letting you out of my sight.”

Plot! Plot?! “At least let me get dressed.”

He had wandered into the adjoining room, rustling in a cupboard. “Nothing doing, dove. And here I thought you would be asking to go back to the city and get into those horrible contraptions.”

Actually, the thought had completely slipped her mind. “Eventually. I think I will enjoy this country vacation with my new family. For a spell.”

“Good, good. Kitty will need help with the child.”

Her head whipped around so hard her neck cracked. “What child? Oh, this is absolutely not going to continue!” she cried, stamping her foot. “I need to remediate this immediately. I simply cannot be the last to know!”

“She will want you to be the godmother.”

“Of course we will be the godparents,” Clarice snapped. Glancing around, she suddenly took stock of her surroundings. “This is your house…?” The homey interior did not match the descriptions she had been given.

“Oh, no,” Harry hastened to correct, coming around the corner with two glasses in one hand, and a bottle in the other. “This is Geoffrey’s house.”

Geoffrey…? Her scattered wits blew immediately to the next thought. “Oh, my sister! She was in the carriage. Do you think someone got her out safely?”

“I am sure of it.”

He did sound sure, and the tension immediately drained from her shoulders. “Good! I still need to thank her for getting my message to you…What is it?”

Her husband-to-be was giving her an odd look. “What message?”

What? Then how...?
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Old 02-29-2016, 08:38 PM   #107
Xyantha Reborn
- Actually Very Tame!
 
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Done...but not done

The odd jump is planned, because unfortunately, that is also how I left off poor C&C

The story is going to continue with Waistcoats and Wainscotting... Coming soon (I hope)
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