Ableside Manor

Prelude

This chapter contains several long flashbacks. It should be clear where these start and finish, but to make sure that you have no problems, the flashbacks start and end with wavy lines: ~~~~

*****

It was Sunday morning and Mary knocked on Lord Fenwick's bedroom door. When there was no answer, she knocked again. Eventually, he told her to enter. "Begging your pardon, mi Lord, but Lady Fenwick sent me to wake you. She says you'll be late for church if you don't rise soon. Shall I open the curtains, mi Lord?"

He looked across the room at the clock. "My! Is that the time? Thank you Mary. Yes, open the curtains and please tell Lady Fenwick I'll be down shortly."

"Yes, mi Lord. I've brought some warm water for you to shave, mi Lord." She drew the curtains and left him to get ready. He slid out of bed, stretched a few times, quickly shaved and dressed in his Sunday attire. By the time he reached the dining room, Lady Fenwick had finished her breakfast and had returned to her room to get ready for church.

He was halfway through his breakfast, when she walked back into the dining room. She smiled at her husband. "You seemed to enjoy yourself at last night's ball. But you shouldn't mix mead and Champagne, you know. I bet you've got a terrible headache this morning."

"No, I'm alright, just a bit tired, that's all."

"Well, the coach is waiting. Are you nearly ready?"

"Give me two minutes and I'll be there." He quickly ate the rest of his breakfast, finished his coffee and rushed down to join his wife in the coach.

As soon as the coach set off, he fell asleep and she had to wake him on arrival. Several times during the service, he showed signs of falling asleep again, but she elbowed him gently in the ribs each time to keep him awake. She was glad when the service ended and quickly walked him outside, worried that he might throw up in the church; that would have been highly embarrassing.

Back in the coach, he seemed to perk up a bit. "It was good last night. I enjoyed the dancing, but as you know, I'm not much of a dancer. However, I do my best. If nothing else, my dancing serves to keep everyone else amused."

She laughed. "You improved a lot after a few glasses of mead and your performance on the dance floor was a lot better than your performance afterwards in the bedroom."

"What? Oh, yes, I remember now. Sorry about that."

"Never mind - it's your loss. I'm off to Elizabeth's for a few days. Are you sure you can't come with me? I'm leaving straight after we get back from church."

"Well, I would do, but you've probably forgotten, Reginald is coming to stay for a couple of days to talk about the new paper mill. We've got quite a bit more to sort out if we're going to open it this summer. But I'm sure you'll enjoy a few days with your sister without me there. When will you be back?"

"Oh, I'm looking forward to seeing her again and I'm sure I'll enjoy the break. You're always welcome to come along, you know. I'm planning to return on Saturday unless there's some special social event planned for Saturday evening."

"Pass on my best wishes and tell her I'll try and accompany you on your next visit."

They sat in silence for the rest of the coach trip home and he remembered how he had joined her in her bedroom after returning from the ball. Everything had started well enough, he had got hard, no problem, and had even mounted her, but before he could finish, the dreaded 'brewer's droop' had struck, so that was the end of that - too much alcohol. He had climbed off her and had promptly fallen asleep. When he had started snoring, she had woken him and kicked him out. His snoring was the reason that they had separate bedrooms in the first place. He had then staggered up the stairs to the next floor, had flopped into his own bed and was still there when Mary had woken him this morning.

When they got home, Jane had finished packing Lady Fenwick's trunk and the coach driver loaded it onto the coach. Lord Fenwick stood outside and waived his wife goodbye as the coach set off down the drive.

Meanwhile, the two servant girls were giggling as they cleared the dining table. "Which one of us do you think he'll want this morning?" Mary wondered.

"It's your turn," replied Jane, "he had me yesterday."

"As you know, it doesn't work like that; there's no pattern as to which one of us he wants. Maybe he tosses a coin." They both laughed. "I guess we'll find out soon enough." But he didn't want either of them that morning. He had other plans. In fact, he had been looking forward to today for some time.

As soon as his wife was gone, he walked back into the house and changed out of his Sunday morning attire. Donning a hat to keep the sun off his head, he set off on foot down the drive. He could have asked Nelson to take him in the spare coach, but he reasoned that the walk would clear his head and in any case, it was a lovely sunny day. He was on his way to his mistress's cottage, which was about a mile and a half away in the town. On the way, he reminisced about Genevieve and how she had become his mistress, all those years ago.

Genevieve and her husband, Pierre, the second son of a French aristocrat, had moved to England with their young daughter after some dreadful feud had forced them to flee from France about fourteen years previously. They had rented a house in the town and Pierre had invested what money they had managed to bring with them into a business importing French fashion accessories. The business had done reasonably well and Lord Fenwick had become a frequent customer. One day, Pierre and Lord Fenwick had been talking and Pierre had confided that he wanted to expand the business, but was hampered by a lack of money. The two of them had discussed it for some time and Lord Fenwick had eventually expressed an interest in investing in Pierre's business if the conditions were right. Pierre had subsequently invited him to his home for dinner to discuss the idea in more detail:-

~~~~ Lord Fenwick arrived at Pierre's house and knocked on the door. A few moments later, a very graceful, tall lady opened it and greeted him: "Hello, you must be Lord Fenwick. I'm Pierre's wife, Genevieve. Do come in." She stood aside to allow him to enter.

"Thank you, Genevieve. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Pierre will be down in a minute; he's just sorting out some information for you. Can I offer you something to drink?"

Lord Fenwick was struggling not to stare at her. He had never seen such an elegant woman before. "Er, yes, a glass of white wine would be very welcome if you have any, thank you." She invited him to sit down and went to fetch the wine, just as Pierre walked in, carrying some documents.

"Lord Fenwick! Welcome to my home. I see you've already met my lovely wife."

"Yes, indeed and she certainly is lovely."

"I've put some notes together for you, but I suggest that we have dinner first - it's nearly ready, I gather." Genevieve returned with the wine and some glasses and the three of them chatted while the dinner cooked. After few minutes, a young girl walked in. "This is our daughter Claire; she's seven, though she prefers to say 'nearly eight'. Claire, say 'hello,' and then off to bed you go."

Claire said "hello," and a few minutes later, Genevieve disappeared with her to put her to bed, leaving the two men to discuss business. However, Lord Fenwick was having trouble focusing on what Pierre was saying. He was totally enthralled by Genevieve.

Later, over dinner, the three of them talked about a wide range of topics and Lord Fenwick marvelled at Genevieve's knowledge of current affairs, art and everything else that came up in the conversation. He was not used to this from a woman. And she was a real beauty too.

After dinner, Genevieve announced: "I'm going to leave you two to discuss business, while I retire. I have a book I'm keen to finish." The two men stood and Lord Fenwick thanked her profusely for the fabulous dinner she had provided. He kissed her goodnight on each cheek, French style and she left the room. Her perfume lingered behind her and again he had problems concentrating on what Pierre was telling him.

The two men continued their discussions late into the evening, but it had it soon became clear that there were a few issues to sort out before Lord Fenwick could consider investing in the business. However, Pierre was aware of the problems and was eager to obtain his advice.

After that first discussion, Lord Fenwick became a regular visitor to Pierre's home and with his guidance, several of the problems in the business were solved, but he was still not ready to commit money to the venture just yet.

Then one day, he arrived as arranged, only to find Genevieve and Claire in tears. In fact, Genevieve was utterly distraught. "Lord Fenwick, please forgive my appearance and the state of the house. I would have put you off coming, but I didn't have any way of contacting you." In between tears, she explained: "Pierre got himself involved in a dispute about something or other and one thing led to another and he was shot dead this morning in a duel."

Lord Fenwick was totally shocked. "Oh, my God! How awful. What a dreadful thing to happen. Should I perhaps leave you alone?"

"No, please stay for a while. It's good to have someone to talk to." He comforted the two women as best he could, but there was not much he could do to alleviate the pain they were both going through. When she regained some composure, Genevieve continued: "Not only have I lost my husband, but without his income from the business, I have no means of supporting myself and more importantly, of supporting Claire. I don't know what we're going to do."

He stayed with them as long as he could and promised to come back in a couple of days with some ideas. Two days later, he returned and spoke to Genevieve at length about the possibility of her running the business under his guidance, but there were numerous problems with that idea and the money was fast running out. She and her daughter would be homeless by the end of the month. On discovering this, he went straight to the landlord on the following morning and paid the next three months' rent. He then gave Genevieve sufficient cash to live on for three months. He had provided her with some breathing space and had asked for nothing in return.

Over the ensuing months, he continued to visit her often, trying to find a way to solve her problems. In the meantime, he had become totally infatuated with her; she was extremely attractive, she dressed well and was obviously a very intelligent woman. What's more, her expensive French perfume drove him wild. He was unable to get her out of his mind and after much soul-searching he eventually decided to try and make her his.

Shortly before the three months' rent ran out, he visited her with a proposition: He would provide her with a cottage and a generous monthly allowance if she agreed to become his mistress. Although he had not asked for anything in return for his generosity so far, she had realised that this could not last forever and she had been half expecting some such proposal. He was a handsome man, very polite and seemingly very caring, so she reckoned that this was probably going to be by far the best option that might come her way.

"Well," she said, hesitatingly, "I may be amenable to such an offer. Not to put too fine a point on it, it's the only viable proposal I've seen so far. But if I agree, where in the town would you propose to look for a cottage for me?"

"In the Greenhill district," was his immediate reply. She was surprised - that was a very fashionable part of town, well out of range of that which her late husband could have afforded. "I don't want my mistress living in some run down area, where it is unsafe for her to walk about," he declared.

"Greenhill is a lovely area; that would be a delightful place to live. What sort of allowance did you have in mind?"

When he told her, she was stunned. He went on to explain: "I would expect my mistress to dress well and continue to wear the sort of French perfumes that drive me wild. In any case, you need sufficient money to eat properly and to support and educate Claire."

Genevieve was thrilled. She would have accepted much less since the alternatives were unthinkable. "Is there anything else, I should know?" she enquired.

"Two things," he replied. "Firstly, as my mistress, you must be available for me to make love to you whenever I want, within reason and secondly, you must also make every effort to please me in any way that I want, again, within reason. By the way, I'm not into anything that causes pain to a lady."

She was expecting something along those lines and nodded. "Alright."

True to his word, Lord Fenwick found and purchased a lovely two bedroom cottage in the Greenhill district and had it renovated and furnished. Whilst that was being done he continued to pay the rent on the existing house. The whole process took a further three months, but at last, everything was ready and Genevieve and Claire moved in. During the six months since Pierre had died, he had not attempted to lay a finger on Genevieve.

Three days after the two women moved into their new cottage, he dropped by and told Genevieve that he wished to visit her alone and he asked her to arrange for Claire to be out on the following day. The day of reckoning had finally come for Genevieve.

The next day, Lord Fenwick arrived as agreed and used his key to let himself in. He had had his hair cut and was smartly dressed. Genevieve was sitting in the lounge waiting for him. She wore a simple deep red sleeveless dress and looked absolutely stunning. Lord Fenwick just stood there for ages admiring her. "Wow," he muttered under his breath. Eventually, he beckoned her over and she rose and walked into his outstretched arms for the first time.

He put his arms round her and hugged her closely to his chest. His nose was pressed against her neck and her perfume was intoxicating. He had never been that close to her before and was already in heaven. His natural urge was to drag her upstairs, rip her dress off and ravish her, but he was rooted to the spot.

She had been dreading this moment, but strangely, she felt secure and safe in his arms. The way that he held her was like a lover would do as opposed to the way that a man who just wanted to make temporary use of her body would do. She found the experience very calming. After what seemed like several minutes, she leant back and looked him in the eyes. "Lord Fenwick... "

"Ralph, please call me Ralph."

"Ralph, there's something I want to say to you." She hesitated. "I have only ever been with one man before and I'm a little nervous about this. No, in fact, I'm very nervous. You have been really kind and generous to me and Claire and you are a very handsome man. I dread to think what would have happened to us, had you not stepped in and rescued us. I fully intend to keep my side of the bargain, but please treat me gently and be patient. I do want to make love to you today, but as I've already said, I am very nervous, so if it doesn't happen or if I cannot fully satisfy you, please don't be angry with me. It will happen within a day or so if it doesn't happen today."

There was no answer; he just smiled and nodded. He was too emotional to articulate a response. She stared into his eyes for some time then stepped back. Taking hold of his hand, she led him slowly up the stairs. Turning left at the top, she led him into her new bedroom.

Once in her bedroom, she pointed him to a chair against the far wall opposite the bed. He sat down and watched her.

She stood there for what seemed like ages before kicking her shoes off. She then started to slowly remove her jewellery, one item at a time, placing each piece in a neat pile on the bedside table, leaving a single item of jewellery on her. After a short pause, she beckoned him to her. He jumped out of the chair and met her in the middle of the room. They looked at each other in the eyes, again, for some considerable time. It was as if neither knew what to do next.

Suddenly, she turned round, so that her back was towards him. "Ralph, please undo the buttons on my dress." He was shaking. He had lost count of the number of women he had bedded in the past and had always been in total control. But now he was a bag of nerves. He reached up and attempted to undo the top button. With any other woman, they would have all been undone by now, but he was struggling with his shaking hands, just to undo the top one. At first he didn't understand what was happening to him, but then he realised that he simply worshiped her.

She had mesmerised him. He had come here today to fuck her, but it was now clear that he wasn't going to do that. No, he was going to make love to her instead. He had never realised before that there was a difference. He had fucked many women in the past, but this would be the first time he had ever made love to one. But first, he needed to get those damn buttons undone.

He counted to ten to calm his nerves and eventually, the buttons started yielding to his fingers. As they did so, Genevieve's back gradually came into view. She was naked under her dress and his cock started to harden as he saw more and more of her body. Finally, the buttons were all undone and he could see the smooth skin of her back, all the way from her long graceful neck, right down her spine to her pert bottom and beyond. This lady clearly looked after herself.

With the buttons now all undone, he stepped back. Genevieve leant forward a bit and shook the dress off her shoulders. Catching it as it fell, she stepped out of it and tossed it onto a nearby chair. She managed the whole action without turning, so he saw nothing but her back. He was still mesmerised. She folded her arms across her chest and turned to face him. He still saw nothing; everything was hidden by her arms. He glanced down between her legs. Everything there was hidden by a neatly trimmed bush. He saw nothing but the shapely curves of her waist and hips and her blemish-free skin. He simply couldn't believe such a stupendous looking woman was standing naked before him.

She stepped forward, flung her arms round his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips. As her arms left her chest, he caught a brief glimpse of her tits. No, that was too crude a word; he caught a brief glimpse of her breasts. And what lovely breasts they were too. He already had a good idea of their size, but he had now spotted two very erect nipples on a pair of breasts that showed no signs of sagging. They were just the right size and shape to complement her slender, elegant frame. He also realised that he had just kissed her for the first time and his head was reeling at the thought.

She stepped back again and turned towards the bed. As she did so, he caught another glimpse of her breasts. He wanted to explore them but that would come later. She walked over to the bed, her back still towards him. She pulled the bed cover back, paused as if thinking about something and then removed the last piece of jewellery and placed it on the bedside table with the rest. She had never, ever, removed her wedding ring from her finger before.

As she jumped into the bed, he got another brief glimpse of her breasts, but she quickly pulled the cover over her and they disappeared from sight. He was transfixed. He couldn't move. This stupendous looking lady had set the agenda, had set the pace and had turned him into jelly. He had never met a woman so graceful, slender, sophisticated, well educated and beautifully coiffured. And she was blessed with perfect skin; there was not a blemish on her. For the first time in his life, he was in love.

She lay on her side waiting for him. When he didn't move, she enquired: "Aren't you joining me?"