Miss Harcourt's Guardian

"Lord Banchforth," a voice said indistinctly as I sat with father's lawyers in father's study as they explained father's last will and testament to myself and those of my family who remained after father's calamitous accident, "My Lord!" he insisted.

I realised I was the one he was addressing, "Yes?" I replied.

"There remains the matter of Miss Grace Harcourt." Selwyn Carruthers, father's lawyer, explained, "An annuity paid for her upkeep."

"For what purpose?" I asked.

"She was his whore of course," Jamie my younger brother insisted.

"I cannot say sir," Carruthers admitted, "But the payment does seem anomalous."

"Anomalous indeed," I agreed, "It must cease forthwith!"

It was the result of father's drunken attempt to show our coachman how to negotiate the swerves to the bridge at Houndswell beck which had ended with his carriage wheel mounting the parapet and plunging into the beck fully fifty feet below throwing father headfirst onto the rocks that formed the Houndswell ravine where not even his unusually thick skull could save him.

Mother survived, though severely shaken and she had made arrangements to take herself off to Brighton to recuperate, and it was decided amiably enough that I should abandon my plans for becoming an architect and should instead take on the herculean task of improving the fortunes of the estate which was almost entirely bankrupt, and it was self evident that every considerable economy should have to be exercised or the whole should have to be sold, and after nigh on six hundred years of Blanchforths at Houndswell that humilliation was unthinkable.

Father's whore faded from my mind as more pressing matters occupied my conscience, leaving my post as pupil with Mr Chippendale of Morpeth the esteemed architect, finding an assistant estate managers role for Jamie when he should have been taking the grand tour, arranging for mother's stay at Brighton, and seeking out every slackness and inefficiency that drained the estate coffers filled my days until that August Miss Harcourt had a letter sent enquiring about my failing to pay her annuity.

"Tell her we have no further use for a whore," I suggested and there the matter would ordinarily have ended, except Miss Grace Harcourt was no ordinary whore as I was soon to discover.

She was younger than I expected, twenty one perhaps, tall, willowy, with the high cheek bones and high breasts of an aristocrat and her long dark hair swirled like a cloak around her head as she rode into our stable yard that fateful sun kissed late August day.

It was hot, I had myself not long returned home and I was watering the horses when upon a whim I tipped a pail of water over my head to cool my bared torso for I had long since discarded my shirt and worked bare chested on the duties a servant had until recently performed.

"You," she said abruptly to me as she swept to a halt, "Take my horse," she ordered as she prepared to dismount and then she demanded, "Where is Lord Blanchforth?"

"At your service Miss," I said and at once her whip snaked out lashing my bare chest and drawing blood.

"Keep a civil tongue, you oaf!" she said, "Or it will be the worse for you, now send for Lord Blanchforth!"

I just stared, how dare she. "Fetch Lord Blanchforth!" she insisted and struck me again.

"And who should I say awaits him Miss." I asked.

"Miss Grace Harcourt," she snapped.

I just stared, she rode astride like a man, her legs splayed obscenely by the beasts considerable girth, her skirts bunched up, before her, "Damn it you fool, oh very well help me down, I shall find him."

I stepped forward, "Ugh don't get that blood on my skirts you oaf," she snapped as I came too close and the blood trickling from my chest where the whip had drawn it threatened to soil her.

But I paid no heed, I merely took her in my arms and she screamed, "Unhand me!" as the scents of horse and woman combined and my manhood reared.

"Unhand me I say!" she cried, as I lifted her clear of the horse, "Put me down!" she demanded as I held her close, her warm soft breast held close to my bare chest, her breath upon my cheek like the wind of an angels wings.

"Lord Blanchforth's whore, well, well, well." I chuckled, "Well I can see why he was smitten, and it seems a shame to waste a journey," I explained and instead of putting her on her feet I swung her over my shoulder.

"Unhand me you oaf!" she cried, "Set me down this instant!" and the like she shouted as I carried her to the stable, to the nearest freshly strawed stall and set her down to lay upon her back where a whore should be and I grasped her skirts and raised them to her chin to appraise her wares.

"Unhand me!" she demanded, as she tried to get up but fell back showing the voluminous pantaloons below her skirts, voluminous and easily removed, as I demonstrated by ripping them from her with a single motion, before placing my boot squarely on her belly as I released my belt and slipped my breeches to my knees to release my straining and recently un exercised prong, "No fetch Lord Blanchforth!" she shouted, "Rape!"

"If rape is what you desire Lord Blanchforth's whore," I exclaimed, "Then raped you shall be," I averred, "It's at least a month since I last rode a whore, and I own that is too long."

She slashed the whip over my buttocks twice before I could pry the whip from her grasp, and by then my knees were between her knees and her skirts were up around her neck and her underskirts and with the least effort her mounds were released and with her voluminous silk breeches torn aside there was revealed to me the sweet pinkness of her lower lips, though I own for a whore the patch of dark hair through which they peeped was a distinct surprise.

Yet for all this Father rose in my estimation, I had no idea he had such fine taste in whores, for some reason I expected an older and certainly a more timid maid, not such a fine specimen, but perhaps that was her flaw, a foul temper or perhaps there was some hidden flaw, uneven-ness about the udders, or a fat belly tightly corseted, but that could wait, for now a simple pronging would suffice, the stripping and whipping could wait.

"Rape!" she cried, as she continued to protest and struggle.

"Two guineas now shut up!" I offered, but she continued shouting and wailing even as I forced myself upon her.

She squirmed and twisted as if to escape but I was too strong for her by far and little by little she stilled but always twisted when I let her hand go to aim my manhood at the sweet soft pinkness of her womanhood yet with time I had her pinned sufficient and his tip was against her and with solid force I began to try to penetrate into her very loins.

But I found her unwilling, she clenched her cavern tight against me with well practised whore muscles denying my entry therein until I pulled away and explored with my fingers. Her cavern seemed surprisingly dry which I suppose I should have thought odd in a whore, and tight, and her slot was oh so tight, although as my fingers entered easily enough and with two or three fingers inside and my thumb upon the nub at the apex of her slot so straightway she began to moisten.

I released her hands that I might explore her slot but with her own hands so released she attacked me and pummelled my back, so I grasped my appendage firmly and thrust mightily to overcome her musculature, and with no more than a half dozen strong thrusts to overcome her during which my own juices oozed forth to allowed sufficient lubricity, I found myself fully sheathed within her and though throughout she beat her hands upon my chest and protested that she was no whore such was my excitement that another dozen thrusts and I was spent, my seed flooding her innards like a burst dam sending me straight to heaven.

"My eye but you're good," I said when I was spent, and disconcerted that she was strangely silent I asked, "How do I compare with Father?"

"I know not, I am not a whore," she insisted though it was manifest from the way she milked me so swiftly to release that not only was she indeed a whore but among the very finest that I had ever sampled.

I looked closer, tears were flooding down her cheeks, "For heavens sake," I chided, "What on earth is wrong?"

"You defiled me!" she said like I was an imbecile.

"So wash yourself in the horse trough," I suggested, "I said I will pay and you'll get your two guineas, have no fear," I added, "Indeed stay for dinner, dine with the servants and when I am recovered perhaps you can earn another guinea."

She slapped my face, the sting roused my emotions, I should need no respite, my manhood reared already.

"Damn it," I exclaimed in my discomfiture, "I'll take my pleasure with you again, now disrobe!" I insisted, "Disrobe now I say!"

She stared at me as if stunned, I pulled her dress as an indicant but it tore in my grasp so I tore it again and it tore away, and I tore away in turn her shift and her under-shift until she was bare from neck to womb and her form revealed as near to complete perfection as I had ever seen,

Still she stared in horror or anticipation frozen into inaction as once again I approached but quite suddenly just as I sought to guide my prong within her, so she wriggled and squirmed and tried to escape beating her hands against my chest once more and writhing such that it was all I could do to pin her to the ground before I finally managed to send my prong slipping warmly and wetly within her tight cavern even as she scowled at me.

She grimaced and I do believe she tried to bite me but I kept her pinned down and began to thrust against her as I took my pleasure, harder and faster until her whorish instincts took over and she thrusted against me in turn griping and milking me to hasten my release, wrapping her legs around me as in a flurry of dreamlike floating upon pinkly fluffed clouds in the very heavens I flew with the angels and swooped through the clouds riding now upon a winged elephant as my milk erupted within her, gushing in undiminished force entirely and seemingly replenished since the first union.

"My god you're a miserable one," I chided as having achieved my release and hosed her innards with my seed I collapsed upon her in exhaustion.

This time the end of our union was the signal for her to squirm from me, and after crawling back she rose to her feet grasped her torn raiments to her and bolted to her horse which she mounted with a mighty bound and having wrenched the reins from the rail she slapped his rump with her hand as she had lost her whip and charged forth recklessly towards the gate.

"Miss Harcourt, your fee!" I cried after her.

"I shall have you hung when Lord Blanchforth is informed," she wailed and with a flurry of torn skirts, flailing hair and naked breasts she was gone.

I wandered into the house, sated, yet desirous, the act had been perfection if brief but the straw was not perfect, I imagined her laid on the soft down and horsehair of my bed, and considered that perhaps she could have a servant's room and attend me when I desired, but then the smell of roast pork took my mind to other pleasures and she was forgotten.

But not for long, for that same evening there was a commotion and a horde of horses clattered down our driveway, I looked out to see Col George Melchett of the Dragoons leading a troop of his men towards the house. I knew the Colonel as a Lieutenant when I were but a boy and so I went straightway to greet him.

"John!" he exclaimed, "good to see you, how are you, is his Lordship here?" he asked with almost impatient rapidity..

"If you mean father, sadly we buried him several months since, I am Lord now." I explained.

"Oh, you have my deepest sympathy," he said, "But that being the case we have come for an ostler," he declared, "Young chap, twenty maybe, slight but well muscled, dark hair, it seems he ravished Miss Harcourt this very day, We have a warrant signed by the Lord Lieutenant."

"Come inside," I suggested, "You do know this "Miss" Harcourt is a whore, do you?"

"Indeed?" he queried, "Are you sure you have the right young lady?" he queried.

"Undoubtedly, father paid her an annuity for her services." I explained, "And I sampled her myself this very afternoon."

"You sampled her, it was you, not an Ostler?" he asked awkwardly.

"Indeed," I agreed, "What did she say?"

"You are not protecting your servant are you John?" he asked inquiringly, "The master servant bond can be very strong."

"I am not a child Colonel," I countered, "I am twenty five summers old."

"Miss Harcourt said when she went to see her guardian Lord Blanchforth she was ravished by an Ostler." the Colonel stated, "An uncouth fellow unwashed and deporting himself shirt-less with his chest bared as he went about menial duties.

"Well then," I explained, "Guardian, it's like as to saying one is a wench's uncle do you see, euphemisms, she was my father's whore and as he was her 'Guardian,' or master and as they are not blood related and she of marriageable age then where is the offence," I paused, "For with father departed I am her guardian now."

The colonel came down from his horse to ponder the matter, "My eye that's a tricky one," he said, "But yes, she must follow your bidding even to the bedchamber."

"You have proof of this Guardianship?" he asked.

"Yes, in my father's papers., come to his study and I will show you," I offered and we went along to the small room where I found the annuity demand and other such papers, including the last years payment.

"Well, it seems in order," he said, "I would never have said she was a whore but perhaps your father had different taste, but I'll say good day sir, and inform the wench her claim is misfounded."

"I thank you," I replied, "Oh and have her publicly whipped for false allegation would you please?" I asked.

He looked at me with something approaching contempt and hatred for you see he had been taken in by the whore that was Grace Harcourt and believed her to be a sweet young girl not the scheming whore I knew her to be. "Yes." he said curtly, "My Lord," As if annoyed at my order, for having known me when I were a boy and he a Lieutenant my station as Lord and in rank superior to his own must have seemed an humilliation..

"If you will wait a few moments," I said on an impulse, "I shall join you!"

"No, we must away, but follow at your leisure," the Colonel insisted and he turned and strode away.

I do believe the Colonel would have taken his pleasure with her rather than whip her as propriety demanded had I not followed, and followed at some gallop having first to find Boggins from the farm to follow with the cart and to saddle my own horse before riding out and I barely caught them before they rode through the archway into the old Abbey grounds where the barracks were situated.

Miss Harcourt waited expectantly in the small doorway under the huge towering granite walls of the old Abbey, now Barracks and as we approached so she came across the cobblestone courtyard to meet the Colonel, "That's him," she exclaimed and pointed at me, "Why is he not in chains?" she demanded.

"Ah no," Colonel Melchett explained, "It seems you mis led us," he explained, "It seems your calling is that of a common whore."

"I am not a whore!" Miss Harcourt protested, "Lord Blanchforth is my guardian!"

"Prove it!" Melchett insisted.

"It is in my papers," she said, "I have a copy here," she insisted and dew a slip of paper from her purse.

"It's true right enough," Melchett said as he read it confirming what I had laid before him, "Oh dear."

"So arrest him!" she cried.

"Miss Harcourt I am afraid the elder Lord Blanchforth has passed away and his son," he said indicating me, "The present Lord Blanchforth, is now your guardian."

"Arrest him!" she insisted.

"He is your guardian, I cannot arrest him." Melchett insisted.

"But you can most certainly arrest her," I averred, "See what she did to me with her whip," I exclaimed and unbuttoned my shirt to show the lacerations.

"Did you do this?" Melchett enquired.

"Yes!" she said, "He ravished me."

"As is his right as guardian," Melchett explained and he turned to me, "Shall I arrest the girl?"

"Indeed, take her hence," I insisted, "I shall repair to her lodgings and bundle up her things as it seems she has over stayed her welcome and the rent remains unpaid."

"No!" she wailed, "For pities sake 'tis I who have been wronged."

"You wounded me you harlot, teach her some manners Colonel if you please," I suggested, "Have her whipped in the town square tomorrow morning for it is market day and so shall not go unremarked," I insisted and I went to find Groggins and then proceeded to the address Miss Harcourt had given in her letter to father.

The lodging turned to out to my surprise to be a well appointed apartment of two bedrooms and a sitting room where Miss Harourt had lived with Miss Jenkins, her servant and companion whom it seemed was also in Father's employ and she too was paid an annuity due on the first day of August each year .

Mrs Boxtree the proprietress who owned Miss Harrcourt's rooms lived below and quickly came at my bidding.

"I have come for Miss Harcourt's things," I insisted.

"Those will remain until my rent is paid," Mrs Boxtree insisted, "Three guineas she owes me!" she said, "And a guinea she borrowed from poor Miss Jenkins."

I had taken more than three guineas worth of pleasure with Miss Harcourt so it was only fair to pay the woman, "And this Jenkins?" I asked.

"Upped and left this very morn to take up a position with the Misses Morely, very respectable ladies that pay when they are supposed to, not like Blanchforth," she said, "Took all her things she did leaving Miss Harcourt alone, so she took Mr Thomas' horse and flew to Lord Blanchforth's to demand payment."

"A hanging offence!" I exclaimed, "A horse thief!"

"Mr Thomas would not complain, he would as likely say he gave her permission," Mrs Boxtree insisted.

I paid the three Guineas and we loaded the cart and made our way back home where we deposited the load at the stables intending to sort it through and indeed Groggins commenced sorting Miss Harcourts clothing, "Mighty odd whore sir if I may say so sir," he commented.

I looked at her wardrobe, it was most peculiarly dull and unexciting, especially the under-things, "Well she fornicated like a whore," I insisted, "Do you know I'd rather bang some respect into her with my own prong than have Melchett's rabble do it," I declared, "I do believe I shall ride out first thing in the morning and fetch her back."

I was too late, I was delayed, I slept the sleep of the sated and by the time I awoke and roused myself breakfasted and arrived at the market place she was already hoisted up upon a platform a yard or so high in the very centre of that marketplace and supported struggling betwixt two swarthy militiamen with a sergeant there and the colonel as they held her beside the stocks and the whole surrounded by a heaving mob braying for her humilliation.

I tried to force my way through the throng but I was attired for practicality not for ostentation and being a young fellow none would give way, so I stood and waited for the hubbub to subside, but Miss Harcourt with her hands bound behind her and held by a militiaman at each arm she could do nothing as the sergeant prepared to bare her.

Not swiftly, but like an actor he played to his audience, tempting, goading, brandishing his gleaming dagger before he began cutting away Miss Harcourt's garments one by one, first her shawl which could easily have been undone was hacked through, then her dark green demi coat was sliced through,at front and down the both sleeves so it could fall free. Then her green dress, which would have unfastened down the back was cut through down the front all the way from neck to hem so it gaped open showing her petticoats.