“He what?”
“Like mad! Swerving this way and that, I had to hold on lest I fall into his lap!”
“I see... did you?” The woman took a chair away from the table, taking a seat, not taking her eyes from her daughter. Emma pulled out a chair as well, facing her, still looking unsure and worried. It didn't feel right, nor comfortable, sharing these things with her.
“Well, no, not on his lap, I fell against him though.” A drop of poison in her tone as she said it, eyes narrowing in a slight scowl.
“Good, and then?”
“Good?!”
“Yes, good. Be close to him. Shower him with affection. After all, it's not like he's a visually unpleasant man. Quite handsome in fact. Had I been your age, I wouldn't need 'swerves' to fall to his lap.” She said it so easily, even shrugging.
“Mother!”
“What did he do when you fell against him.”
“He-!...” somehow she doubted she would get the response she wanted, but none the less spoke in outrage. “He kissed me!”
“Oh, that's sweet of him.”
“It had been moments after we left the house!”
“Oh he likes you, that's good. I hope he didn't give you any tongue however.”
“Mother!” She shrieked, scarcely accepting her very own ears.
“Answer the question, Emmabelle.” A shiver went up the girl's spine.
“W-well... the kiss was on my forehead, not on my lips.” The mother's eyes lowered, mouth coming slightly agape as she leaned forth a bit, looking at her girl in disbelief.
“WOH-HO-HO-HO!” Her head was tossed back, a great smile on her face, giving her knee a pat in the process. “Ho-ho-ho, really? Over this, you show outrage? He sounds perfectly charming!”
“I didn't want him to kiss me!” Emma started smartly as a BANG echoed the room, her mother's hand coming down sharply to the dining table next to the expensive boxed dress.
“It's not about what you want, you spoiled little spinster brat!” The girl's jaw lost all strength, lowering utterly as she felt pressure and moisture building in her eyes. “It's about whether you want to live... or whether you want to live in squalor!” Silence hung between the two for a few seconds as they stared at one another, the more elderly woman with wide and angry eyes, outraged at her own daughter's ignorance, as her spoiled nature leaked out just as liquid began to leak to her cheeks. “He's a charming young man, tall, handsome, generous-” she gestured to the box and peered at the necklace, “-sweet, and above all as far as you should be concerned, wealthy!” Up and down the hand went once more in spite of how much it already stung, attempting to drive home the
vital importance of the situation. It brought another shudder to poor Emmabelle.
“M-mother...”
“If he gets you another ring, it had best be on the proper finger!”
“But mummy, this... this stuff,” she pulled the ring off and clunked it onto the table, she undid the necklace from behind her neck and put it, too, down, and yanked at the beautiful ribbon and ripped at the box until some of the luxurious and colourful fabric was shown. “It's worth hundreds, maybe even thousands!” Her eyes in tears, standing, looking down desperately at her sitting mother who looked up at her with the same large, angry eyes, she pleaded. “Can't we just sell them? Surely it would do us for months at least! Maybe even a year?”
That ferocious gaze up at Emma began to level as her mother slowly rose, eyes locked on her, moving steadily and smoothly while her emotional girl shivered and shuddered in fright at both the present and the future. They stood nearly at eye-level for a good moment, a tense moment, before a sudden SLAP twitched Emma's view from her mother to off to the side, her cheek numb for a split second before prickling, stinging pain began to flourish like a blooming rose. Red marks of fingers spreading on her fair skin like tiny roots growing beneath the skin. The girl froze there for a time, processing what had just happened, each breath coming in as a gasp.
“You ignorant, heartless creature. I can't believe you...” still that penetrating glare, even as her daughter didn't even look back at her. “Go to your room, and pray. Pray for marriage... or pray I pass before you bring an end to our family legacy.” A couple seconds passed, still processing, but leaving the luxurious items behind she obediently went to her room empty handed, one of those empty hands coming to cup her throbbing cheek, the other swaying at her hip as she slouchedly made her way down the hall.
The woman of the house slowly turned, her own hand feeling much as painful as her daughter's cheek did. She rest against the large dining room table, peering down at the jewelry and partially-exposed dress. With infinitely more care, her own eyes welling up, she undid the ribbon and opened the ruined box. She spread the dress out on the surface, next to the glistening items. The necklace was brought up above the neckline of the outfit, and the ring brought over to its left side while the dress faced up towards her. She pictured her daughter in it... and it brought some stillness to her rapidly beating heart. Looking down at the ring, picturing it on her right hand where it had been before, she took it, and slowly brought it over to the other side of the dress. The left hand. The tears grew ever more steady as she imagined it, and gently dropped to her knees, hands coming together where the dress dropped down along the edge of the table, her tears dripping down onto the fabric.
“God, why do you see fit to torment me. Please help me, aide me, show her away from her foolish behaviour. She doesn't know how lucky we are to have found the eye of such a man. Please, let her see it, as soon as can be, for her sake as well as mine. I don't know how much more time we have before we're met with true desperation. Please strengthen the Duke of Dawsbury with plentiful patience, I fear he may need it. Please, we need your help.” The woman gave a sniffle, several tears having soaked into the glistening blue fabric. “Amen...”
Chapter 5
He could still taste the brandy on his tongue as he thrust it in her mouth, and in it, he found her flavour of wine. Her knees rest on his hips, she felt how his tongue swirled around hers, felt his tongue on her considerable chest, the masculine body hair grazing along her smooth and ever so slightly softened belly, and down below... his flaccid member resting on her moist slit.
“Ahh.” he surrendered, falling to his side, a hand still enjoying her bosom. “No, it's no use, I don't understand it.”