by April Hill
“What about your mother?” Emily sniffled.
“Poor Mother simply ate to excess when she worried about me. Rotten son that I was, I often neglected writing her for months at a time, and she ate to appease her fears and to assuage her misery and grief.
“Where is she, now?
Ethan sighed. “At 300 pounds, she simply exploded.”
“Ethan!” Emily shrieked. “That’s not in the least amusing!”
He shrugged. “I’m sorry, love. I merely wanted to cheer you up. My mother lives in Philadelphia, and still spends much of her time writing me letters berating me for not writing letters. Now, you need rest. You’ll want to be at your best, tomorrow.”
“I’m not tired,” she said. “And I’m too nervous to sleep, in any case.”
“Well, then, we shall have to find something else to make you tired.” He smiled, drawing her to him. Emily sank into the comfort of his arms and allowed herself to be kissed and fondled, despite the curiosity her absence from the forecastle’s evening activities would surely cause. After a few minutes, she pulled away.
“I must go,” she murmured reluctantly. “The boys will gossip.”
“Let them gossip. Tomorrow you’ll put on your best dress, kiss them all soundly, and bid them farewell. When you next meet, you’ll have been promoted from cabin boy to captain’s lady.” He unbuttoned her shirt and slipped his hands inside.
“Are you certain that such a position is a promotion?” she asked, remembering back to her very first conversation with Little Eli, on the subject of officers’ women.
Ethan was not listening, fully occupied with removing her shirt and caressing her breasts.
“Turn around,” he said softly, his hands moving lower.
“Turn around?”
“Yes, and lean over the bed, darling.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her gently to face the bunk, then tossed two fat pillows before her.
“Ethan!” she cried with alarm. “What have I done, now, to deserve a spanking?”
He lifted her hair and kissed the nape of her neck. “There are other things to be accomplished in this position than spanking you, my love.” His fingers slid inside the tops of her trousers. “Although, I’m certain that within the last twenty-four hours you’ve probably done something to earn…”
She smiled as he lowered her worn trousers down around her ankles, presumably for the last time.
“I have been a model of gentility and manners,” she said.
“And probably sworn like a deckhand all day,” he pointed out, placing small kisses between her shoulder blades as he pressed her down on the bed and undid the buttons on his own breeches.
Emily sighed in resignation and lay quietly on her stomach, propped on her elbows and enjoying the cool smoothness of the soft pillows. Ethan stood between her legs and spread them very gently, caressing between her thighs with one hand and stroking her thighs and buttocks with the other. Emily moaned as she reached back to touch him.
“Come, now, Ethan, isn’t this more pleasant than spanking me?”
Ethan murmured his agreement, opened her thighs wider and slipped one hand around her to fondle her breasts. Softly, then, he slipped his fingers inside her, probing deeper as she began to writhe on the bed in response. When her groans of pleasure became louder, he caressed her clitoris, squeezing and stroking firmly as she moved insistently against his hand. Then, quickly, he lifted her slightly and entered her from the rear, plunging hard and deep between the soft, wet lips as Emily gripped the bedclothes and threw her head back, moaning.
Exulting in these new sensations, Emily pushed back to greet each of his forceful thrust, abandoning herself completely to the pure, mindless ecstasy of it. And slowly, from somewhere very deep inside her, she felt a rising wave of an even more powerful feeling—more intense and potent than before, which made her writhe beneath him, crying aloud.
A few moments later, trembling with pleasure, the muscles in her lower body shuddering involuntarily, Emily Fowler experienced for the first time what her novels had only hinted at— and had done a very inadequate job of describing.
Later, she lay in his arms, laughing with delight at the continuing tremors that racked her body.
“I feel absolutely drained,” Emily murmured, sighing as she buried her face against his chest. “I couldn’t possibly walk, now. My legs feel like jellied eels.”
“What an enchanting image,” he chided.
“Is this usual, Ethan?” she asked. “To feel like…like a jellyfish out of water?”
“Well, I suppose that’s a bit more attractive. Yes, my love, this is the expected and desired outcome of being brilliantly and expertly fucked by an accomplished master.”
“It’s never been quite like that, before.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“No,” she murmured, reaching between his warm thighs to fondle the object of her recent pleasure. “Far from it. In the future, perhaps you could even show me more and expand upon my knowledge.”
He kissed her breast and patted her bottom fondly. “I promise to do my very best to acquaint you with every variation I can think of, within the bounds of what is decent, of course.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, somewhat disappointed by the word “decent.”
“I have no idea. I’ll count upon you to tell me, but from what I have seen thus far, Emily, I suspect that those boundaries will have to be rather widely drawn.”
Delighted with this information, Emily lowered her tousled red head between his legs, in appreciation.
The next morning, Emily and Ethan disembarked from the Liza and made their way through the winding cobbled streets from the harbor, up Main Street, and to the Fowler home on tree-shaded Union Street.
Emily stopped before a tall, brick house with tall columns.
“This is where I live,” she said quietly. “Or it was, before I ran away.”
Ethan shook his head. “It’s grander than I expected, Emily. I must warn you not to expect too much from me. The fact is, the home I’m building in Boston would fit, house and gardens together, inside this house.”
Emily rang the bell, and several moments later, a plump, elderly woman in an apron opened the door. With a gasp of surprise, she took Emily in her arms, shrieking happily.
“You’re home!” she cried, and as Ethan stood by, the two women began a tearful, garbled exchange of information.
“Tabitha, this is Captain McAllister, Ethan.” Emily explained. “Ethan, I wish you to meet our beloved Miss Tabitha Perkins, who has been with us for more years than either of us can remember! Oh, Tabitha, where are Mother and…”
At that moment, Gideon and Naomi Fowler appeared in the hallway, and the weeping and embracing spread around the room.
“Children!” Gideon called. “Chastity! Caleb! Come quickly! Emily has come home!”
Seconds thereafter, the door to the garden burst open and Caleb tumbled into the room, his clothing filthy and wet from head to toe. Without a word, he fell into Emily’s arms and flung his arms about her waist. One pace behind him, Chastity appeared, her eyes red.
“Oh, Em! I’m so glad you’re home! I can’t…” Caleb sputtered. Suddenly, as if aware of how his unbridled childish enthusiasm looked to the adults in the room, he stood back, wiped his running nose efficiently on his dirty sleeve, and assumed an air of impatient annoyance.
“It’s about time you got home, Emily! We have been waiting without word for days. Mother has been absolutely convinced that you were drowned or mortally injured by more of those ruffians you encountered. I’m glad to see that you’ve suffered no loss of limb, at least. I assume that we have Captain McAllister, here, to thank for that.”
“Not at all, Master Fowler,” Ethan said, smiling. “Your sister has proven herself an able sailor and a brave comrade to her fellow crew. She acquitted herself very well.”
Caleb seemed disappointed. “For a woman, do you mean?” he asked hopefully.
/> Ethan nodded sagely. “Well, that is, of course, what I meant to say. As we men are both aware, mere girls are poorly equipped for a life at sea.”
The boy grinned widely. “Yes, sir, I have often heard that. Perhaps, Captain, sir, you could speak to my father, about my earning my way aboard the Elizabeth B. Portman, when I’m a bit older, of course.”
Chastity slapped her brother across the back of his head, sending his cap flying.
“You’re such a little idiot, Caleb! The captain doesn’t need a child to care for! Leave him be! Father would no more permit you to go to sea than he would me!”
Ethan picked up Caleb’s cap and handed it back to him. “We shall see, Caleb.” He made a small, polite bow to Chastity.
“Good day, Miss Fowler. “I have brought your sister back to you in reasonably good health, I hope.” He turned to Gideon and Naomi, paying his belated respects as they all retired to the parlor.
An hour or so later, Ethan returned to the ship, leaving Emily in the loving embrace of her relieved family. He had promised Emily’s mother that he would return the following evening for supper, and bring with him his first officer, Mr. Turner, who had shared in Emily’s rescue.
When he arrived the next evening. Ethan barely recognized the wind-tossed young woman with whom he had spent so many weeks. The transformation in his former ragged ‘cabin boy’ was astonishing. Her hair was done properly, in long copper curls piled atop her head, her nails were manicured and polished, and she was dressed in a lovely new pale green frock. At the Fowlers’ request, he had brought along John Turner, who had barely taken his eyes off Chastity since they arrived. Chastity had quickly changed chairs with her little brother in order to situate herself next to the handsome young officer, and had then excused herself just long enough to dash into the hall, pinch her cheeks, and tuck a fold in the top of her neckline to emphasize her charming décolletage, entirely for Mr. Turner’s benefit.
“I can’t describe to you, Captain McAllister, what a difference we’ve seen in Emily!” Naomi chirped as she handed Ethan a bowl of overcooked carrots. “I can’t imagine what you’ve done to her to bring about such a change!”
“Nor would I want you to, Mother…imagine, I mean,” Emily remarked soberly, kicking Ethan’s boot beneath the long table.
Ethan shot her a warning look as he made a polite reply to Naomi’s question. “I think what Emily is trying to say, Mrs. Fowler, is that her experiences aboard ship have matured her in ways she would find it difficult to explain.”
“Yes,” Emily giggled. “Painfully difficult to explain, I’m afraid.”
Naomi gasped. “Painful! Emily! You weren’t actually hurt, were you?”
Emily took a dainty bite of her mother’s rubbery baked chicken. “Not in such a way as to leave me with permanent scars,” she said dryly.
Naomi wiped away a tear. “Oh my poor darling! Still, we must thank the Lord that you have returned her to us safely. We were so relieved and happy to find that she was in your strong and capable hands, Captain McAllister, after she apparently become lost while visiting Mr. Withers’ home. Once I learned that she was safely aboard your lovely little ship, I slept much more easily. We cannot find the words to thank you adequately!”
“It’s been my pleasure, entirely, Mrs. Fowler, I can assure you,” Ethan replied. “Your daughter showed a truly admirable endurance for the rigors of shipboard life, which can be extremely uncomfortable, on occasion.” He smiled at Emily. “And yes, I’m afraid that her experiences aboard were sometimes painful. I believe that she’s learned a great deal, though, and I can only hope that Emily feels that she’s gained something from my help and instruction.”
“Oh, but I did, Captain,” Emily exclaimed, smiling. “It was highly instructive, and often left a lasting impression upon me.”
“What was the absolutely worst thing that happened to you, Emily?” Chastity prodded greedily. “Or was it simply too terrible to describe?”
Emily sighed. “Some of it was quite terrible, Chastity. Perhaps the captain will be better able to describe it, blow by blow, as it were, since he was always in a position to see things more clearly, one might say.”
Naomi beamed. “Can you understand, now, Emily, why I have always dreamed that you would find a fine, strong man to take care of you?” She looked meaningfully, perhaps even wistfully, at Ethan.
Ethan took another sip of water, listening without comment as Emily continued her sly chatter.
“Oh yes, he took care of me, Mother. As regularly as clock work, actually. I was never without his firm, strong hand exactly where it was most needed.”
At this point, Gideon stood and proposed a toast with a glass of grape juice.
“Well, as Mr. Shakespeare has said, ‘All’s well that ends well!’ By the grace of God and Captain McAllister, our dear prodigal child has been returned to us, safe, sound, and intact.”
Ethan choked on his grape juice.
“Well,” Emily said, grinning wickedly. “Perhaps not quite…”
Abruptly, McAllister stood up and placed his napkin down on the table.
“Excuse me, Mrs. Fowler, but may I be permitted a private moment with Emily, in another room, perhaps? We have a matter of some urgency to discuss, and if you would kindly lend us an upstairs sitting room, perhaps, for just a few minutes? And please, do go on with your dinner. We’ll not be long.”
Mrs. Fowler hastened to oblige, her flushed face betraying her hopes. The affection between her daughter and the dashing captain was evident to everyone, and Naomi was convinced that a request for a private moment could mean only one thing.
“But of course, Captain McAllister,” she gushed. “We would be honored if you would regard our home as your own. There’s a small library with a cheerful fire already set, just at the end of the east hallway. It should afford you and Emily whatever privacy you need. Please, do take all the time you need. We wouldn’t think of continuing without you!”
“I am in your debt, Mrs. Fowler. The generosity of your excellent table is exceeded only by your graciousness. Come along, Emily. We don’t wish to delay your mother’s lovely dinner any longer than absolutely necessary.” He extended his hand with a smile, and Emily took it, but narrowed her eyes at him in a look of pure malice. He led her to the stairway, while behind them, the conversation resumed, in whispers.
“This isn’t amusing, Ethan!” She hissed as she preceded him up the winding staircase and into the library.
Ethan closed the door and locked it, then led her to the couch and sat her down very hard on the edge.
“Exactly what is it you were trying to do, down there?” he demanded in a harsh whisper. “Hurt your parents, or me?”
“Neither!” she said petulantly. “I merely thought it was amusing.”
“Well, it wasn’t amusing. Your mother is a good woman who deserves to be treated with respect, and not made the victim of your childish attempts at wit.”
Emily had the good sense to at least appear crestfallen. “I just thought…Oh, Ethan, I’m sorry! Truly, I am!”
Ethan shook his head, unpersuaded by her contrite tone. “Perhaps, my love, but not half as sorry as you’re going to be after I’ve paddled your disrespectful backside.”
“My God, Ethan!” she cried. “Not now! Not here!”
Ethan removed his coat, placed it neatly across the end of the couch, and unbuckled his belt. “Here and now, and over the arm of this very lovely brocade settee, now that I think about it. After which we’re going back downstairs to be wined…well… juiced, anyway, and dined by your parents. Now, lift your skirts and take down your drawers.”
Emily started to object, but he put a finger to her lips. “Thus far, you’ve earned yourself a walloping which you may only feel for a day or so. If you say even one word, or utter a single whimper while I do this, though, I give you my solemn promise you won’t be sitting down for a full week. Now, get them down, and be quick about it!”
Emily grumbled, b
ut finally raised her skirts to her waist and fumbled beneath her chemise for the waistband of the ruffled, knee length white drawers. Wriggling the frilly undergarment down to her knees, she leaned over the arm of the settee.
“Are you quite happy, now?” she snapped.
Ethan chuckled. “Not quite,” he said, admiring the sight of Emily’s soft, round buttocks thus raised. “But, I must tell you, sweetheart, that I never tire of this particular view. One day, I may have to commission your portrait in exactly such an–”
“You are a corrupt, vile, and reprehensible cad! “ She whispered as loudly as she dared. “Just get on with the wretched business if you must! I am quite obviously at your mercy, and I would like to have my supper before midnight, if you don’t mind! Most of my mother’s dishes are unappealing enough hot. Cold, they’re inedible!”
Ethan removed his belt, tipped her slightly forward, and delivered precisely the spanking he had promised, while Emily bit her lip throughout, trying to remain silent under very trying circumstances.
“Did you enjoy that?” McAllister asked wryly as he slipped his belt back through its loops.
Emily stood up and began to rearrange her clothing, but stubbornly refused to turn and face him.
“No,” she replied curtly. “As you know perfectly well, I did not enjoy it.”
“Then, may I assume that we’ll have no further display of poor manners in the future?”
“Have I a choice?” she asked, rubbing her stinging buttocks.
“No. Not unless you wish me to repeat what just occurred here. The decision is yours, but I wouldn’t recommend another such performance before, let us say, our second wedding anniversary?”
Emily took a deep breath and smiled, but she still didn’t turn around.
“If that is intended as a proposal of marriage, Captain, you have chosen an extremely unusual moment to deliver it.”
Ethan sighed. “Probably, but then, I suspect that ours will be an extremely unusual marriage. Nonetheless, the proposal is sincere and from my heart, and I can only hope that you’ll eventually forgive the odd timing. Maybe by our fiftieth anniversary?”
