by Sahara Kelly
He’d hoped to sleep too, but his mind still whirled with the aftereffects of a remarkable release. His third. In the same night.
For someone who had been less than sexually active for many months, it had been—although he said it himself—a pretty spectacular display of masculinity.
And he admitted to himself that yes, his cock was a bit sore. He hoped he hadn’t hurt Gwyneth at all, and that if she was sore, she would forgive him.
He shifted, turning on one side and watching her sleep.
As of this night, he was now, well and truly, one of her gentlemen.
How was he going to deal with this strange situation? Tonight had been his night, just him and the Lady of Wolfbridge.
But tomorrow, it might be Evan pleasuring her. Or Jeremy and Gabriel. Or all three of them. Visions of limbs and breasts and cocks danced busily through his mind, bringing a twitch or two to his own weapon. However, it apparently thought better of the idea, and went back to sleep. A good thing, since even Harry baulked at waking Gwyneth a fourth time…
He closed his eyes, expecting to be troubled at the thought of sharing Gwyneth, as he most surely would have to.
Yet for some odd reason, he could feel no antipathy toward the others. Jeremy was becoming a good friend, as was Evan. They were intelligent men with whom he enjoyed conversing. Gabriel…well, no one could fail to like Gabriel. His sunny smile and quick mind were most endearing.
Royce? He was a mystery, and yet part of him felt more in tune with Royce than anyone else. It had to be their shared experiences with war and everything that went along with it. Those bonds were unique.
No, there was no animosity at the thought of any of those men in Gwyneth’s bed. Somehow, somewhere along the line, the traditional rules of such things had been banished from Wolfbridge.
And he wasn’t in the least bit sorry.
On that comforting thought, he drifted into sleep…
Only to be awoken an hour or so later by a loud pounding on the door and the eruption of Gabriel into the room.
Both he and Gwyneth lifted their heads groggily off the pillows.
“My Lady, Gwyneth…oh Harry, good…” Gabriel rushed to the bed. “You must dress, my Lady. Jane’s baby is arriving, too early, and Trick has brought her here. A boy is to fetch Mrs B, but Jane is very afraid…”
“Oh lord,” Gwyneth slithered out of bed, and Harry couldn’t help noticing her wince. “Have you woken Royce? He will doubtless be the best equipped to help…”
“I’ll let you dress, my Lady.” Harry was already halfway out of the bed and reaching for his shirt.
Gabriel ignored all of that, just nodding with a worried frown. “Royce is already down there. Come down as quickly as you can…”
Harry’s heart raced as he hurried to his room. A rather unexpected end to an evening of bliss, that was for sure. But then again, this was Wolfbridge—the home of the unexpected.
Chapter Eleven
Gwyneth dressed as fast as she could, threw on the nearest pair of slippers and rushed downstairs without bothering about the rest of her appearance.
Jeremy appeared in the hall as she arrived, looking much as she did…shirt and breeches and bare feet. He carried a pile of clean linens.
“She’s in the Yellow room, Gwyneth. The couch in there is old and should be big enough…”
He spoke as he walked, and she followed him into a brightly lit space that must have once served as a ladies’ receiving room. It had held some unused winter blankets and outer garments, but now it held a much more precious occupant and branches of candles everywhere.
Jane lay prone, her face white, her eyes wide and scared. A blanket covered the large bump she was cradling with her hands, but she was clearly in pain and in no mood for a nap.
“It’s coming, Trick,” she whimpered, clutching his hand.
Her husband knelt next to her. “Indeed it is, cariad,” he soothed. “Be brave now.” His Welsh accent echoed strongly with his tension.
“I don’t know what to do.” Jane’s plaintive cry touched Gwyneth’s heart, and she rushed forward.
“Your baby does, Jane. So you have to relax if you can. There’s going to be some pain, of course, but after it’s done, the babe will be the newest member of your family.”
Trick made to rise, but Gwyneth shook her head. “Stay where you are, my dear. Your wife needs you more than anyone. Everything else is unimportant.”
Royce came in, followed by Evan and Harry, both of whom carried buckets of steaming water.
“Right then.” Royce looked around. “Harry, stoke up the fire if you would? Gabriel, move tables near and put candles on them. We need light.”
“The linens?” Jeremy nodded to the large pile.
“I’ll take care of them,” said Gwyneth.
Royce looked at Jane. “We are going to ask a great deal of you, Jane. First, you have to get up and take off your gown. I’m sorry, but that is absolutely necessary.”
Jane gulped and looked at Trick.
“It’s all right, my love. I trust these men with my life. And something even more important…I trust them with you and our babe.” He looked at Royce. “You’ve had more experience than most doctors I know, so ’tis said…”
“I have.” Royce was washing his hands in a bowl of hot water Evan had filled beneath the candles. “I’ve even delivered two babes, so I know what to expect.” He wrinkled his nose. “Don’t know how women do it, but nevertheless it gets done.”
“Oohhh…” Jane shuddered in pain, her knuckles white as she gripped Trick’s hand.
“Breathe, dear,” said Gabriel. “I’ve heard it helps. Slow now. Like this…” He stood near and showed Jane how to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth.
She nodded as the pain eased.
“Good girl,” said Gabriel. “Right then. Let’s get you comfortable.” He glanced around. “Gentlemen, for this moment you may turn your backs.” He helped Jane to stand, and let Trick unfasten her laces, leaving her in her chemise.
As this was going on, Gwyneth laid out the linens thickly on the couch, knowing little about childbirth other than it would be a messy business.
“Here we go then,” Gabriel and Trick eased her back down as another violent spasm shook her.
“You go ahead and scream, sweetheart,” soothed Royce. “We can all take it and it may help you…”
She didn’t, but Gwyneth sensed it was a near thing.
“It’s too soon,” she whimpered as they rested her onto the now-covered couch. “Too soon. A month at least…Trick…” she grabbed his hand again. “What if…what if there’s something wrong?”
“There’s nothing wrong, Jane, darling. I’m sure of it. Why, didn’t the babe do its best to kick me out of bed not two nights ago?”
She managed a weak smile and nodded.
“There you are then.”
Royce came and sat on the far end of the couch. It was one of those with half a back, ideal for the purpose, and he straddled it, reaching for Jane’s feet.
“Now comes the hard part, Jane. I have to see how far along you are.”
Gwyneth was amazed at the tender way he spoke and touched her toes. She could have hugged him, but knew he was focused on the mother-to-be.
“So,” continued Royce, “I’m going to shoo away Harry, Jeremy and Evan.” He turned with an apologetic look. “She’ll be glad of a cup of tea in a while, Evan. Maybe even a wee something to eat, but definitely water. And a brandy for the rest of us all. You’ll know when the time comes.”
A pounding at the front door startled them all until Gwyneth sighed with relief. “Mrs B. Jeremy, get her in here. Quickly.”
The men scattered as Royce eased Jane’s legs apart, keeping as much of her covered as he could. “Gwyneth, move those candles closer…”
She picked up the branch and carried them to his shoulder. And, God help her, she took a look as well.
Blinking, she couldn’t quite believe
her eyes.
“God, I see hair,” mumbled Royce.
Jane cried out again, tears overflowing. “It hurts…
“Of course it does, my poppet,” Mrs B erupted into the room and dove for the couch and her daughter. “Yer just need to ride it out.”
She glanced around, her gaze fastening on Royce. “Yer know what yer doin’ then?”
He nodded. “I’ve done this before. She’s very close, so it’s good you’re here.”
Mrs B nodded at Gwyneth. “Not what I’d want fer my girl, but better here than on the road.” She turned to Trick and cuffed him gently. “Yer shoulda stayed put, lad.”
“I wanted to, believe me,” he said ruefully. “But Fivetrees is so isolated, and Jane was scared. We had hoped to make it to you.” He sighed. “To be honest, I was scared too. There was no time, Mother B. It’s all happening so fast.”
Jane’s cries were louder and close together now, and Gwyneth found herself sweating along with her. “I’ve got more cloths,” she said, making sure they were within range of Royce, should he need them.
“Good.”
Gabriel came to Gwyneth’s side and took her hand. “Are you all right, my Lady?” He kept his voice low, although there was noise now, almost continuously, from Jane.
“Yes, I’m doing well, and praying for Jane,” she answered, taking comfort from the clasp of his hand.
“It’s exciting,” he said. “I’ve never seen a baby born before.”
“Well, you’re about to,” said Royce, whose keen ears had caught Gabriel’s comment. “Grab the scissors…”
Thus directed, Gabriel reached into the nearby sewing box and removed a small pair of embroidery scissors.
“Hold them in the hot water…” Royce’s voice was breathless as his hands delved between Jane’s outspread legs. He’d kept her chemise draped over as much of her as he could, but now Gwyneth could sense the urgency in every move he made.
“Jane,” he said carefully. “When the next pain comes, I want you to push…”
“Oh no,” she sobbed. “I can’t. It hurts…”
“Yes you can…now…push…”
Jane screamed, tears running down her cheeks.
“Once more…give it all you have, sweetheart…push…”
A harsh and violent scream racked her and echoed throughout the room, sending shudders through Gwyneth. Oh God—how could she survive such agony?
After that ear-shattering cry there was a moment’s silence.
And then a new voice joined them.
The baby cried.
Royce’s voice broke as he pulled away, holding a pink and messy little body in his hands.
“Jane,” he said. “Trick. Well done.” He swallowed roughly. “You have a son.”
Mrs B burst into tears as Jane lay back, exhausted and gazing at her husband who stared at the babe.
“Is he…all right?” Jane turned her head weakly toward Royce.
“The only thing wrong with him is that his mama and papa can’t count.” Royce chuckled. “This is a perfect and healthy young fellow, Jane. A good number of pounds too, I suspect. Which leads me to conclude you were off in your supposition as to when he was conceived.”
He took cloths from Gwyneth and cleaned the tiny squalling babe gently, then passed the clean scissors to Trick. “Here, papa. Free your lad to begin life on his own.”
Blinking hard, Trick nodded. “’Tis smaller than a foal’s,” he commented, snipping the cord and making them all chuckle.
“So’s the baby, yer daft lad,” Mrs B sniffled and hurried to his side, crooning over the little one as Royce gave her a little soft cloth to wrap him in. The cries were loud and healthy and brought the other men into the room in such a rush they nearly fell over each other.
“Let’s see then,” panted Jeremy.
Trick stood, his son now cradled in his arms as Royce took care of Jane.
“Here he is.” He swallowed, tears falling unheeded over his cheeks. “Here’s my son.” He dragged his gaze away from the tiny face for a moment. “Meet Clifford Wolfbridge Jones.”
*~~*~~*
Journal of Gwyneth, Lady of Wolfbridge - November 1818
So much has happened since I last wrote that it will be difficult to remember all of it as precisely and in as much detail as I should.
So let me write down the events chronologically. Perhaps then my memories will accurately reflect the events of the past days.
We had our Hallowmas bonfire and my goodness what a wonderful blaze it was. The weather favoured us, being brisk and wintery, but not too cold that being outside was unpleasant. To the contrary, the warmth of the fire was equalled by the warmth of the tenants, who celebrated with gusto.
The notion of a school seemed to surprise everyone, and I’m not sure they fully understand yet the advantages of educating their children. But they will—I am determined. Work should be starting shortly on the renovations, and many of the men who have finished their harvest and are ready to take on something over the winter months have expressed enthusiasm.
So we’ll have quite a few helping hands as we decide what needs to be done.
One of us must oversee the project, and I’m thinking that Harry might be the man to take on the role. He has a way with people, and if it does not interfere too much with his duties here at the Manor, I believe he would be an excellent choice. I will be speaking with Royce about this within a few days.
Which neatly brings me to another momentous event.
At last, Harry joined me in bed.
I’m not sure how to describe the night; I confess to some apprehension prior to our lovemaking, since he’s not had long to understand the way matters are at Wolfbridge. But if there’s one thing you can say about him, it is that he is very observant. And I think he likes being here.
So I wasn’t surprised when it became clear that my other gentlemen were engaging themselves for the evening, and Royce asked Harry to see I was safely tucked up.
It was time, certainly. Being tended to by these men is an essential part of who we are at Wolfbridge.
It has taught me that loving someone, several someones, is entirely possible and can happen without pain or anguish. I have learned that the act itself can be the most wonderful thing, bringing joy, moments of exquisite madness and then a loving contentment that I never imagined existed.
Harry, however, added a new dimension. He took, letting me know how much he was pleasured by me, instead of the other way around. It was a surprise to feel his hand spanking me, but those unexpected slaps aroused me in a way that was quite new. Everything seemed to grow warmer and even more sensitive, and when he entered me I felt it in new places.
We made love three times that night. And each time I found my release strengthening, deepening and rising more rapidly. A thoughtful lover, Harry spared the time to learn my body most thoroughly, and I cannot but admire the talents he displayed with his tongue and his mouth. We were both exhausted, of course. It had been a long and busy day, and followed by such an energetic night, I was barely able to keep my eyes open long enough to mumble something into the pillow.
He was still there, sleeping soundly, when the knock on the door woke us both with quite a start.
And this is the most exciting thing of all—Jane was about to give birth. They had sent their maid to Mrs B’s, but Jane’s pains were coming faster, and both she and Trick were nervous about being alone in that huge house.
So what did Trick do? He drove her here to Wolfbridge. And I’m so thankful he did.
The household sprang into action, and Royce commanded everyone with his usual calm aplomb. By the time Harry and I reached the parlour, Jane was on the couch, clearly in pain. I have not had a child, and after seeing what Jane went through, I am not sure I ever want one.
But with everyone’s help—especially Royce’s—Jane was successfully delivered of a lovely healthy boy.
To stand there, in the room with Trick, Jane, Mrs B, Gabriel and Royc
e, and then hear that lusty cry…it was at that point that I felt as if I had touched a miracle. A new life came into being before my very eyes. Where there were five, there were now six. It took my breath away and I’ll admit to some tears. Gabriel was unashamedly weeping as Royce showed us the babe and Trick’s face? I cannot describe it. A blend of pride and joy and relief, mixed with a bit of terror, I think, to judge by the tentative and nervous way he accepted his son from Royce.
So it has indeed been a time of laughter, joy and miracles.
And pleasure. Extraordinary, unexpected pleasure.
For which I have Harry to thank.
So now I go forward once again, with the new knowledge that I now have four gentlemen available to please me as I wish. An elevating thought, without doubt.
Even with this surfeit of sensual delights, I cannot help wondering now and again. Wondering about Royce…
Does he still have those jade spheres?
Chapter Twelve
“I wonder how the new family is doing,” mused Gwyneth a few days later.
“I’m sure they’re very happy with the Barnsleys, my Lady.” Royce threw her a quick glance. “I expect Jane is being well cared for, the baby is being spoiled quite dreadfully, and Trick is being lauded for producing a son and heir.”
Harry chuckled from his seat in one corner where he’d been perusing the newest paper to arrive. “I shall have to take some time and decide whether that is the absolute and utter truth, or very well veiled sarcasm.”
“I don’t need any time,” said Gabriel. “Definitely the truth. Royce would never be sarcastic.”
“Now that’s sarcasm,” laughed Gwyneth.
They were in the large parlour which she always thought of as more of a formal drawing room, but with the roaring fire and her gentlemen, it was quite pleasant. It also allowed Royce to do some work on a small desk to one side of the room, and the chairs by the fire were very comfortable.
Gabriel had sheets of paper on another table, where he’d drawn up a chair and was busy with ruler and pencil.
Gwyneth was about to go and see what he was up to when the last two, Jeremy and Evan, arrived together, rubbing their hands and shivering.
