~~ Sir Mulberry Hawk is one of the evil characters in Dickens' "Nicholas Nickleby". This story is set a year or so prior to the events of the book, and prior to the commencement of his ’tutelage' of Sir Frederick Verisopht. If you haven't read the book, no fear - hard bondage and anal worked as well in the 19th century as it does today! ~~
Sir Mulberry Hawk sat, in an alcove off his sitting-room, polishing off the remains of the fish he had decided upon for breakfast. It was nearly four in the afternoon, an odd time for breakfast in some people's eyes, but Sir Mulberry kept odd hours, and odd hours led to odd breakfasts.
The events of the day - of his day, at least - would not commence until ten o'clock or so, when the young gentlemen of the day ventured forth in search of hard ale, wicked women and gambling dens, and when unscrupulous entrepreneurs such as Hawk roamed London to accomodate them. Hawk's specialty was gambling with drunken young gentlemen, goading them on to bet - and lose - as much as he could. Hawk was a master of his art.
So, how to spend the intervening hours? He cast around a few ideas in his mind, but decided in the end to spend the time chasing his few debtors. Hawk did not generally accept debts - once the young gentlemen had run out of ready money he usually moved on to the next conquest - but sometimes it was unavoidable, for instance if one fellow had plenty of money left, but was likely to leave if his fellows could not play another roll or two of the dice on credit. One thing was certain, though, if Hawk accepted such a debt, he made damned certain it was paid in full. He could not risk being considered an easy mark.
Hawk pulled, from a nearby bureau, a leather-bound journal in which he recorded the debts owed to him, and the names of the young gentlemen owing him. The amounts varied from the ridiculously small - twenty pounds or so - to much more serious debts of several hundred pounds. He scanned the list, looking for the names of young men he knew to be currently in town, and not off dashing around the continent somewhere. He took three names, and wrote them on a scrap of paper. Combined debts of just under three hundred pounds - a good afternoon's work, if they could be made to clear their balances.
He dressed himself suitably to leave his apartments, and was on the point of pulling on his gloves and calling for a coach when he heard a knock at his door, and a low murmur of voices as his doorman took their details. A few moments passed before Hawk's man entered the drawing room and stood patiently waiting for Hawk to call upon him.
"Well?"
The man leared his throat. "Sir Mulberry, there is a message from Sir Edward Luckless .... only he sent it by a young servant girl, who refuses to pass it to anyone except you, directly and alone."
Hawk paused in the act of putting on his gloves. Luckless was one of the names in his journal ... and possibly the most interesting name at that. Some months before, Luckless had been far gone in drink and betting wildly, when on a whim he bet against Hawk, staking "his wife's honour" against just three hundred pounds. Hawk was initially inclined to refuse the bet, preferring the security of pounds sterling, but such an infamous bet would underline his reputation forever. He took the bet and won, and Luckless had been avoiding him ever since. Hawk had written to him just last week, suggesting that if Luckless could not deliver his wife to Hawk, he would come and claim her. Here, apparently, was the response.
He bade his man show the girl in, and dismissed him when she entered. The girl was young - eighteen or so - and looked decidedly innocent. Fair hair, pale skin, just slightly on the plump side. No wonder Luckless kept her around - though his wife must hate her! "You have a message for me?"
"Yes, Sir Mulberry. Sir Edward insisted I give it to you personally, then wait for your response."
Hawk crossed the room and took the envelope from her, thumbing aside the seal and pulling a folded note from within it. He left the girl standing their, offering her neither a seat nor refreshment. She was only a servant, after all. The note made for interesting reading:
Hawk,
I have tried in several ways to gently bring up with my wife the results of our wager. I cannot do it. She becomes aghast at suggestions even peripheral to our intent - she would not even receive you unaccompanied! I must also say that the more I contemplate this situation, the more determined I become to settled the matter in another fashion.
The girl who bears this note is named Christina. I have, on occasion, taken my pleasure from her during my wife's absences. She is most entertaining, and quite barren. Perfect for our intentions, yes? Please accept her services in payment of my debt to you.
Regards, EL.
Hawk refolded the letter and tapped it against his chin several times, looking speculatively at the young woman across the room from him. "What do you know of the contents of this note, Christina?"
She smiled, somewhat nervously he thought, and began unbuttoning her blouse from the neck. "I believe I understand the heart of the message, Sir Mulberry."
He watched, smiling, as her fingers hesitated on the third button. Had she expected him to rush over and tear her from her clothes? Was she, perhaps, wondering whether she had misundertood the message. "Continue undressing, Christina. I will take Sir Edward up on his offer of your entertainments, then I shall consider my reply to his letter."
She grinned broadly, a bewitching combination of innocence and knowing experience, and continued to unbutton her blouse. She cast it aside, and shook out her dark hair, pushing her shoulders back to show Hawk a smallish, though delightfully formed pair of breasts, surmounted by plum-coloured nipples which were already hardening with excitement.
