The Observations of a Curious Governess (12 page)

‘Does she know?’ I asked as soon as we were out of hearing.

Mr Reeves stiffened in his stride, ‘I do not believe so. Your nervousness must make her suspicious, is all I can suggest.’

‘Why should she be suspicious at my nervousness? Any young governess may find a vicar’s wife daunting – especially one so young and pretty, and keenly observant.’

Mr Reeves sighed, and pulled me into the shade of a large oak that lined the lane, so that we may have a modicum of privacy. He shushed me gently. ‘I have missed you terribly, Miss Swan,’ he said in way of answer. His abrupt confession made my heart stutter again, but this time in a much more pleasurable way.

‘I have thought of nothing but you,’ he whispered.

My sex pulsed betwixt my legs, as if reciprocating the sentiment. ‘I too, have been plagued with memories of you,’ I breathed back, and he kissed me then, hungrily and passionately. He tasted of clove tooth powder and sweet comfits. Eventually, however, it was I who pulled away, for although I wished for nothing more than to replicate those passionate moments, I had to know his intentions.

‘Why are you here Jonathan, truly? I had not expected you to return for a month or more.’

He looked at me with a steady, solemn gaze. ‘I wish to renew my offer of marriage,’ he said, his hands resting on my waist, before he drew me closer, where I could feel the throb of his manhood against my stomach.

‘Oh …’ I gasped, completely at a loss as to how to respond.

‘Allow me a moment’s monologue, if you please.’

I smiled at his formality. ‘Of course,’ I replied.

‘Since that day in the glade, I cannot bear the thought of being without you. The notion of searching out some other wealthy wife is abhorrent. I wish to marry you, Martha, you only. I could not stand a life without you by my side.’

His words affected me deeply. It was as if a knife were being stabbed through my breast. ‘Circumstances have not changed, Jonathan …’ I began, trying to speak sense, yet he interrupted insistently.

‘I know we have not the money to set up a house of our own, yet.’

My heart wilted. ‘We never shall,’ I replied. ‘I am generously paid at Stanton, it is true, but I have promised those funds to my sisters, not myself. I could not let them down and take the monies to set up my own home.’

‘I shall make enough for both of us,’ he said. His hands gripped my face, drawing my lips to his again. ‘Do you believe me? Will you allow me to save for our future?’

Tears burned in my eyes, quite involuntarily. ‘Jonathan, to make that kind of money will take you years, and in those years I shall age and …’

‘Hush, do not speak so. Do you think me so shallow that I should care that I marry when my bride is older? If we must wait, then I shall wait. I care not for age.’

Oh how I loved this man! But I could not lead him on in this folly. It would do neither of us good to dwell on thing that could not be.

‘Jonathan, how many years do you think it shall take to save up sufficient funds?’ My voice caught with an ill-suppressed sob.

‘I know not. If I work hard, mayhap ten years.’

I shook my head, ‘Ten years is a long time,’ I said, so very softly. ‘Shall you still want me when you have gathered your wealth, surrounded in London by young eligible things – whilst I grow old teaching other men’s children without having any of our own?’

He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. ‘I shall want you always.’

I believe he would. Jonathan has always been true to his word; since childhood, there was no promise he would not honour, and his words near broke my heart.

Dear reader, I may be many things, but I am not a fool, and I am not mean. I could not allow him to wait ten years for a woman who by then will have faded. It would be unfair, and a waste of his own youth.

He opened his mouth once more to make an argument, but it was I who interrupted. ‘Hush, let us not speak now, but enjoy the morning. I am not expected back at Stanton for some hours.’

A horse moved past down the lane, and I pulled him further into the woodlands so that we may not be observed. Sighing, Jonathan pulled his hat from his head and threw it to the earth, where it landed with a light thump. With a gesture epitomising his frustration he ran his hands through his hair.

‘But we must speak of this, and you must not tell me to hush. I love you, Martha. I have always loved you, and I cannot stand being apart from you.’

How I had longed to hear such words from him, but how meaningless they actually were! As much as I reciprocated his intentions and feelings, we had no future – not truly – for nothing had changed.

‘Don’t you see, Jonathan, we must be apart. We cannot be man and wife.’

‘I disagree. We can be man and wife now, when we are together at Stanton. Devil take the rest of the time.’

I swallowed audibly, my nether parts heating. Was he proposing that we continue our intimate coital relations when he came to Stanton? I was nearly overwhelmed by the burst of joy the notion provoked within me. Thus I embraced him, relishing the hard length of him against my body. For was this not what I wished? Was this not what my body had craved? Mayhap we
could
be together, whenever occasion brought him to Stanton.

‘Would … would … that not arouse suspicion?’ I asked softly, inhaling the sweet scent of his cologne.

‘We shall be careful, very careful. If we continue this way, ten years shall very shortly disappear.’

It sounded wonderful… Lord forgive this sinner, but it sounded
possible.
And yet…

‘What of your father? Your family? What do they say of this? Have you spoken to them? Certainly your father shall be hoping for a more advantageous match than one to me, ten years away.’

‘I have mentioned it, indeed I have. It was why I wished a formal introduction to the vicar.’

He kissed my cheek, and then my neck. My body arched involuntarily towards him.

‘And? What say they?’

‘I cannot lie. My father still wishes and hopes that I may find a wealthy lady. To that end, I have promised him that I shall not officiate our engagement until I have the funds to do so.’ His words were necessary, sensible even, yet they still stung.

‘So I am to understand we cannot be publically engaged then?’

‘No, my love. We can not.’ He spoke softly, drawing me impossibly close. ‘Yet we are, here…’ he kissed my forehead. ‘Here,’ he kissed the swelling mound of my bosom. ‘And here.’ He knelt before me then and kissed the cloth at the juncture of my thighs. I gasped aloud in surprise and delight.

‘Oh Jonathan, I do love you, truly I do.’

He stood then and lifted me into his arms – reminding me once more of how strong he truly was. He walked, as if I weighed little more than leaf, through the woods, to the far side, where it bordered the brook, occasionally looking about to ensure no one could witness our indecency.

At length, we found ourselves near an old abandoned cottage. To our left, an overgrown lane ran in the direction of the village. Mr Reeves placed me down so that I may better observe the house.

‘I discovered this cottage, upon my last visit,’ he said. ‘I thought it may be perfect for us, when I have the funds to buy it.’

It was a very pretty building, indeed, very old, but strangely stately in its abandoned state. It had three fine-sized windows on the second floor and two on the first, divided by a sweet arched portico. The windows were dirty and the paint peeled, but it was most charming all the same. The central door was a large double of carved wood.

‘But who owns it?’ I asked.

‘Stanton,’ he replied. ‘I enquired about it when I was last here, and he was astonished to discover it in his lands. His Lordship’s previous men of business were not as keen-eyed as me.’

I smiled at him, beamed really. What a charming house. What a charming thing to be contemplating. For us, for our future.

‘And can you buy it? Would His Lordship allow it to be excised from his landholding?’

It was then that Mr Reeves bestowed me with a particularly glorious smile. ‘He has agreed for me to lease-buy it. We negotiated a price, and I may lease it from him until I have paid the sum on which we agreed for its entire purchase, and the fields to the left and right.’

I threw myself at Mr Reeves then, locking my arms about him, my heart fairly fit to burst. ‘Truly? Oh, but this is wonderful!’

We kissed a little and then he said, ‘Would you like very much to see inside?’

There were more questions I had, of course – and doubts too – but now was not the time to discuss them or spoil this thrilling moment.

‘I would like that very much indeed,’ I replied, and without further wait he lifted me into his arms and pushed the doors open with his knee.

The inside was as neglected as the out, and I knew without a doubt there was a great deal of work to be done, and very little of it would be inexpensive.

Jonathan’s hands were hot upon my body as he strode into what must have been once been a modest, but very fine sitting room.

‘I took the liberty of tidying up this room a little, so that we may visit here, when our schedules permit.’

He placed me down, and I took in the swept-clean floorboards, some of which needed replacing. There was an old faded couch, upon which a white sheet had been draped, so that I may recline upon it. I walked about the room, noticing the light play through the dirty windows. The old curtains still hung by the windows; they were red velvet once, I suspected. One day, I should be mistress of this modest but fine home, and I would replace the red with striped blue damask.

My heart grew suddenly grew heavy. Ten years was a very long time indeed.

I thought again of all the extra income I had been offered, and how those monies may assist my own dream. Yet I would not deny my sisters a future. I could not. If I could perhaps give my sisters what I earned under the original terms of my employ, and keep the supplements for a future with Jonathan… but would that assist in any significant way? After all, how could I possibly explain the increase in funds without arousing suspicion? It was a terrible situation, to be certain.

I bit my lip; those irrepressible tears seemed to burn behind my eyes again. Jonathan looked at me then and swept me back into his arms. He squeezed me to him, kissing my cheek and stroking my neck.

‘Oh, my darling Martha, please do not be sad.’

‘Ten years, Jonathan …’ my voice broke. ‘Ten years …’

He shushed me gently and carried me to the couch. ‘Do not think of those ten years. Think of now, my darling. Now we are together, in our home. Now – and we shall come here as often as we may …’

I closed my eyes and envisioned the room as I should have it, carpets on the floors, paintings upon those walls. There would be no peeling paper, no dust or cracked plaster. We would sit there, Mr Reeves and I, and speak of intelligent matters, laugh and entertain. It would be wonderful.

I reached up and curled my fingers through his hair, drawing him down upon me. My sex slickened to feel his rigid phallus against me.

‘Oh Jonathan, this is too much. Too much for me to take,’ I moaned and kissed him, tasting his sweetened lips again.

‘Martha … I …’ I could hear the reluctance in his voice.

‘You are not going to deny me in our own home are you?’ I teased.

He broke away and smiled at me then. ‘No, I should never do such a thing.’

We disrobed completely on this occasion, Mr Reeves taking the time to carefully untie my dress and laces, whilst I took my leisure undressing him. His chest was more beautiful than a sculpture. It was broad, dusted but lightly with dark hair, and it narrowed to his hips which gave way to strong, muscular legs. Indeed, he could have been my very own Achilles and I his willing Penthesilea.

When I stood naked before him, and he before me, I had a moment of pure revelation. There was nothing tainted about our union. We were married within our hearts. For that one moment, I cared not if we were discovered, for I was not ashamed of what I felt or what I did with Mr Reeves. I was his betrothed, and he was mine. I cared not for the formality or public declarations.

Swiftly, Mr Reeves moved down upon me as I reclined on the couch. My quim was swollen and slick with need, I verily craved to feel his thick member imbedded there and to lose my sensibilities in his passionate rut.

‘Please,’ I whispered, as his hands slipped between us and fondled gently that secret wet place. ‘Oh please, do not delay.’

He smiled, and settled down atop me more comfortably now, his weight easing my legs apart and his staff nestled close to my opening. He bowed his head and kissed my forehead, before his body surged like a tide and I found myself sharply, but sweetly, impaled.

My sex was still unused to such things, but I relished the short discomfort and welcomed him with a gentle gasp. Jonathan did the same, and lingered there, still and locked within my opening, until I relaxed about him and we finally began our dance. Like some primal dancer he moved slickly in and out. I could feel myself stretched on each entry, and that bright need intensified on each occasion. I looked up at Jonathan as he gazed down upon me.

‘You are my Heaven on this Earth Martha,’ he whispered, his brow creased in pleasurable concentration. ‘My, sweet, tight, warm Heaven.’

He gave a more forceful lunge, which pushed a cry from my body. His movements became faster and harder; our derelict home echoed with the symphony of our pleasures. Flesh sounding against flesh, beating like a timpani drum, accompanied by the musical moans and gasps such furious coupling elicited.

It was not long, not long at all, before quite involuntarily my sex began to contract, and with each thrust he speared that sweet place high in my body. I began to writhe, climbing ever closer to that elusive height from which I could fall into mindless sensuality. Our rut grew wilder; no pretence was made of gentility or sensibility. I clawed at his back, urging him to beat into my body harder so that I may reach my crisis. He obliged me eagerly and within a heartbeat the heavens broke. Pleasurable oblivion rained down upon us as we rode wave after wave of mindless pleasure.