Breakfast the next morning was an ordeal for Constance.
She had managed to discreetly leave the room last night as Eva, Enrique, and Robert succumbed to their weariness. While they slept on the carpet, in the midst of their strewn clothes, Constance sought the solitude of her own bed.
She had been awakened early by Rob, who was cross with her for leaving. He told her that unless her manners improved to the point that she did not desert her duties when they had company, she'd regret it.
Boldly, Constance challenged him and asked him what more he could do to her. But his reply had floored her.
"You honestly think we've plumbed the depths? Far from it, dear Constance. We do not necessarily have to save your pretty bottom for your wedding night, for one. I'm sure Enrique wouldn't object to shoving his cock right up." As he spoke, he'd worked his hand between the cheeks of her backside and attempted to worm a finger into that tight and untouched opening.
Constance had sprung away from him, but Rob had only laughed.
"And there's much more besides, sweet sister-mine. Did you like the look of Eva's cunny last night? We could force you down between her legs and have you give her a good tongue-lashing. Or she could do the same for you."
The thought had chilled her.
"They say," Rob had continued thoughtfully, "that only a woman truly knows how to please another woman that way. Of course, I've heard the same thing said about men, and the one time I let a man suck me, it wasn't all that splendid. The fact that I'd been dead drunk at the time may have had something to do with it, I grant you."
"I do not want to do that with Eva," Constance had told him.
"Good God, Constance, you nursed at her teats when you were a babe. This is not so much different."
A spark of anger had led her to retort. "That's akin to saying that since you were born of our mother's womb, there'd be no harm in trying to crawl back inside!"
Rob slapped his thigh and roared. "Spirit! She shows spirit! Ah, believe me, Constance, if what I remember of our mother is true, she was a lissome and lovely creature. Your age when she married Father, so she would be younger than Eva if she'd lived. Blonde and fair … why wouldn't I want to have a go at her?"
"You're a filthy abomination, Robert."
"At least I know what I am and what I like, while you seek to deny your true nature. Take it to heart, Constance, you have a wanton's way about you. Your body was made for fucking, and your soul was made to crave it."
He commanded her down to breakfast then. Eva was long gone, having cleaned up the mess of the broken stew pot and made the dining room to look as if the previous evening's events had never happened. But Enrique's look of contentment, and his lascivious leer as Constance came in, were proof that they had.
The household staff had reported for duty that morning, which was the beginning of Constance's reprieve. Neither of them would dare touch her when there was a chance they might be caught by someone they couldn't ensnare as they had Eva.
The betrayal of that still hurt Constance to the quick. Nana Eva had been as a mother to her, a warm and comforting presence in her life. Now that was tainted, tarnished.
It would have been bad enough if Rob and Enrique had raped Eva, pinned her struggling and taken her against her will. But no, that was not their way. They conspired instead to make Eva partake willingly of their vile deeds, and she had. She had indeed, and enjoyed it utterly.
Constance had spent a largely sleepless night trying to figure out why. An inexperienced young woman such as herself knew so little about the ways of men and women, and did not know what to do when her body's reactions went against what she was taught was proper. Yet Eva was older, a woman already wed and widowed with children of her own. Grandchildren, even! How had she given in so readily to those lustful acts?
She pushed food around her plate, mulling these questions in her mind. When the servants were absent from the room, Rob and Enrique amused themselves by recounting what had happened, marveling to each other at Eva's fervor.
"Widows, I told you. They get accustomed to a good regular bit of rumpy," Rob said, "and when their husbands die, they grow to miss it. She's probably thanking all the saints and going about with a smile on her face this morning."
He went on to relate to Enrique what Constance had said to him that morning, and his replies. To her discomfiture, the prospect of seeing Constance made to lick at another woman's cunny only made the lusty gleam in Enrique's eyes increase. She might have expected him to object, since Rob still had not given him that opportunity.
"Or better yet," Enrique suggested, his tongue running over his lips, "we could have her perform that service to the luscious little Esperanza."
"You promised to leave them alone," Constance interjected. "If Eva did as you wished and kept her silence, you promised to leave her daughter-in-law and granddaughter alone."
She knew it was hopeless, but for the sake of Esperanza, she had to try anyway. It did no good. She could see it in their scheming faces. They were already contemplating plans to lure Eva's young granddaughter from home and introduce her to adult delights.
"I'm thinking of closing the house for a while," Rob said. "Of informing the staff that my sister and I are making a visit to your family."
Dread killed the rest of Constance's dwindling appetite.
"Oh, are you?" Enrique raised an eyebrow. "To discuss wedding arrangements with my father?"
"I'd not tell them that. Nor would I want to sail right away. A week or so, without the servants constantly underfoot or having to devise some excuse to send them away … a week uninterrupted of indulging in Constance's charms … by then, my friend, I believe I might be ready to yield her hand to you."
"And the rest of her?"
"And the rest of her," Rob chuckled.
"A week. With me as your guest?"
"Well, Enrique, therein lies the problem. I've noticed that you and I are much more inclined to argue these days. Over something so inconsequential, too. It pains me to see such a tension put on our friendship."
"There's one very simple way to resolve that, Rob." He eyed Constance significantly.
She made herself chew up another bite of food, which had the taste and texture of paper in her mouth. Her face was flaming. Last night, Rob had permitted Enrique to use his hands on her, to insert his fingers into her and bring her to orgasm. If Rob had hoped that would forestall Enrique's desires, he was sadly mistaken. It only made Enrique want more.
"What might be best," Rob said, "would be for you to return to Santa Juanita ahead of us, and broach the subject of your engagement with Don Carlos, your esteemed father. Tell him you wish to invite us to visit. He would be glad of a chance to inspect your intended bride."
"I daresay he would." Enrique scowled. "He'd likely want to get into her as well."
Constance spilled her glass. Don Carlos was as swarthy and dark-haired as his son but lacked Enrique's handsomeness. He was a squat, round man with greedy pig's eyes and an upturned nose, and everything about him seemed somehow oily. It had never occurred to her that the dreaded fate of marrying Enrique would bring her into such proximity with Don Carlos, who had once ran a hand over her bottom and made as though it had been an accident.
"That is a matter for you to decide," Rob said. "A dutiful son might count such as a token of filial respect. I personally would draw the line."
"You would not share your wife with your father?"
