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Mr. Singer
Needless to say, Maggie and Nancy’s hasty and treacherous actions had complicated the situation immensely. As Emily trembled and sobbed helplessly in my arms, I cursed silently to myself. It had all been about to come together! Emily had successfully convinced Lydia to go along with our plans. After many days of treating her brutally (which left my poor little wife exhausted and guilt-ridden), we would be able to end things peaceably. I had been looking forward to hastily making our way home again…but now…?
“Oh, sir,” Emily sighed helplessly, clinging to me. We sat on Mrs. Morrison’s bed in her room, as I had quickly taken her from the cellar after she’d viewed the scene of the murder. I regretted allowing her to see it, so gruesome it was, but I had been so shocked myself, I had been unable to get the words out. But I forced myself to snap out of it. Emily was beside herself; I needed to keep a cool head.
“What are we going to do?” Emily whispered. I did not yet have an answer, but I knew where we needed to start. As calmly as I could, I went through the house and sought out all of its occupants. Ester and Jiao were in the latter’s bed together, hung over after a night out on the town. They got up quickly, sensing that something was very wrong, as I had not yet gone up to the girl’s quarters myself.
“Where are the other girls?” I asked, not finding Nancy or Maggie about the place. The other girls had no answer to this; they had not seen their friends since the previous evening, after we had all had an early dinner together. As the girls dressed, I went to Joseph’s cottage in the back.
I did not yet know what to make of Joseph. We were getting along quite well; he was a good-humored young man, and very much reminded me of his brother my partner, with whom I’d always gotten on famously. The fact that Emily adored him so only appealed him more to me, rather than stirring my jealousy. Even the fact that she was carrying his child bothered me much less than one might think. But I was unable to read how he felt towards me, and so I was unable to entirely trust him.
Well, he proved himself in that situation. He was in his kitchen, alone, preparing his morning tea. I explained what had happened, what I knew so far. Together, we started to formulate a plan.
It was decided that I needed to vacate the premises, as soon as possible. If anyone outside of the house saw me there after the fact…well, I was a stranger, and would be the first one suspected.
Joseph, artistic soul that he is, is no fool when it comes to business dealings. Through the place itself, and his own acquaintanceships, he has formed some significant connections throughout San Francisco. One of these men is a doctor. “For a fee, he may go along with our plans,” he said.
Most fortunately, Joseph had been telling clients who had been coming by the place that Lydia was very ill, and that the doctor had ordered a quarantine of the house. This effectively kept curious eyes away, so there would be no witnesses to contradict our paid-off doctor. Lydia, cleaned up and in a high-necked dress, might just pass for a woman who had died of a sudden illness. Her emaciated form would support that.
Emily, when calm, would later add to our idea by suggesting that we have Lydia cremated. “No one will examine her body and see the…wounds,” she said. “It is a common Hindu practice, and she lived in India for so long…it would be rational, would it not, sir?”
Poor Emily. Nothing seemed rational in this situation, and she had always enjoyed order and reason and goodness. Determined to be finished with this business as quickly as possible, Joseph went to see his doctor friend (with his pockets lined with money) while I began to direct the girls. “I know that it is dreadful, but the body needs to be cleaned,” I said. Jiao and Ester, knowing that when the business was settled they would be much wealthier women, obeyed my orders, and after wrapping up the body in a canvas that Joseph often used while painting, we got the body to the washroom on the upper floor, and they took over the job from there.
While they scrubbed the blood and mess from Mrs. Morrison’s body, I went to Emily, who was calmly sitting at the desk in her office, her accounting book open before her. She looked up at me as I entered, and though her countenance was pale, she granted me a small smile. I went to her and kissed her on the forehead, my lips lingering. The poor thing! Our reunion was not supposed to be like this!
“What I don’t understand,” I finally said after some silence, “Is why they didn’t just stay with the plan? They understood that they would receive a generous share of the profits after the house was sold, didn’t they?”
Emily nodded weakly. “Yes, sir,” she said. “The girls all knew that they would be paid for their part. We sat up one night and they talked of what they wanted to do and where they wanted to go with their money…” Tears filled her eyes. “Oh, sir, this is all my fault!”
“No, darling,” I said. I knew that my words could not comfort her then, but I held her.
“Sir,” she admitted, “I had given Nancy and Maggie quite a bit of money. Just the other night.”
“What’s that?” I asked. “Why, Emily?”
“I thought nothing of it,” she said, a little defensively, but she sounded ashamed of herself. “Lydia had been hoarding their savings. They’d done so much to help us, and when Maggie came and asked me for the money to which they were entitled…well, how could I refuse her anything?” She showed me the entry she’d made in her book, just the night before. “She only asked for their savings, and we sat and tabulated it all out. I thought they were planning to, I don’t know, purchase some new clothing? Oh, sir,” she sighed, slamming her book shut, “I’ve made such a mess of things! Of everything!”
She did not dissolve into sobs, but sat morose, which was worse I think. I patted her hand, but she could not respond to my touch. I looked around the room, which I’d gotten to know well over the last few days. I knew that Emily was eager to leave that place for good, and I prayed for a moment that all of our plans would come together again.
As I paced the room slowly, I noticed that a slim envelope had been left on the windowsill on the far end of the room. I picked it up; it was white, not yellowed with age, only just placed there. Mrs. Singer, it read on the front. Slowly, I brought it to my wife. She looked at me in curiosity as I placed it in her hands.
“It’s for you, darling,” I said softly. She opened it with trembling fingers, and read it aloud to me:
Dear Mrs. Singer,
We are very sorry for what we did. We know that you wanted to end things agreeably with Mrs. Smithwick, but the thought of letting her go on, after everything she’s done…
We love you, Mrs. Singer, and hope the best for you. Thank you for all of the help. We can’t say where we’re going, of course, but we look forward to a happy life together, and hope the same for you and your husband. We hope we haven’t complicated everything for you by what we done.
Love,
Maggie and Nancy
“Loyal to each other to the last,” she said, with the hint of a smile on her lips. “They won’t even reveal who actually did the deed.” But when we looked at each other, we both knew…not that it mattered anymore.
“Emily,” I said tenderly, and with much regret, “I have to go soon.”
She looked at me with wide, frightened eyes, but she nodded. “Yes,” she agreed quietly.
“Joseph and I have discussed it,” I said, “And I am going to help the girls arrange Lydia for the doctor. Then I will retrieve Alice from her school, and take her to Omaha. When this business is settled, you and Joseph will meet us there.”
Emily nodded, though even her lips were pale. “I hate the thought of being apart from you again, sir,” she said.
“So do I, Emily. But it won’t be long,” I said with forced optimism. There were still dangers involved; Joseph had insisted that I take Alice, just in case he and Emily came into trouble. At the very least, I could get the girl home to her family. “Take the time that you need to take care of things,” I said, gesturing to her meticulous accounting records. “Joseph will be here to help you. You…you may take comfort in him,” I added hesitantly.
Emily gave me a curious look. She shook her head. “No, sir,” she said. “I won’t do that. Never again.”
Her words pleased me; she was still all mine. “Very well, darling,” I said solemnly. “Then we will have to get our comfort from each other while we still can.”
She was eager for a distraction, and to have me once more before we parted again. Smiling a little, she led me back into the bedroom (I realized, as she removed her dress, that we would have to bring Lydia’s body there soon). She bade me lie down. “You have a long journey ahead of you, sir,” she said softly. “Let your darling slave do the work for you.”
I complied, and she unbuttoned my shirt as she straddled me, gloriously naked. I was certain that her belly had grown significantly in the past few days, her skin stretched taunt and shining with the oil that she rubbed on it. She ran her smooth little hands over my chest until I seized her by the wrists.
“I am afraid that we don’t have much time to play,” I said regretfully, and she frowned. I grabbed her head and pulled her face to mine, kissing her sensually, tasting her, sliding my hungry tongue over hers. I removed my trousers enough to reveal my stiff cock, already throbbing for her, and I seized her by the hips.
She rode me slowly, skillfully, grinding against me and allowing me to feel her all around me with each thrust. “Oh, God, sir!” she screamed, her tits (still so pert, and growing again in her pregnancy) bouncing with the rhythm of her movements. She threw her head back, coming so easily, though she did not cease in riding.
I ran my hands up and down her body, so soft and warm. I closed my eyes and sighed contently as I came. Emily stopped riding me, and I instructed, “Bring your little ass up here, my love, and let your friend clean you.”
She giggled, such a sweet sound, and sat upon my chest. I put my hands on her hips and she tilted back, her pussy right in my face. I was easily able to lick and suck at her, and I could feel her body shuddering against mine. I forced her thighs wider apart and thrust my tongue into her depths, tasting her tangy sweetness. God, I had missed it! She had a particularly wonderful taste, and for that, I would never have been able to find a substitute.
Troubled as she undoubtedly felt that day, I was easily able to coax another orgasm from her, and after cleaning her thoroughly, she dutifully reciprocated. Of course, my cock went hard again, and she pleased me with that sweet, soft mouth. Though we were running out of time, I allowed her to go slowly, not grabbing her by the head and pumping myself into her. After I came again, and she’d cleaned me slowly, we held each other briefly.
“The girls must be ready by now,” I said, rising from the bed. We both dressed quickly, and just as if our little sensual rendezvous had never occurred, we both went about with our plans. I went upstairs to the washroom, and found Jiao and Ester drying off the cleaned body. “Good timing,” I praised them, and examined Lydia for a moment. Her body nearly bloodless, even the ugly marks from her beatings were pale. Her lips were off-color, but that seemed just right. Still, I frowned at the body, the limp and pathetic form that had once been my worst enemy.
I would later regret my attitude that morning, how I treated that body as a prop, and not as a person once living. Though she’d hurt me, I felt that I had been properly avenged. I had not wanted her to die. Whatever thoughts I may have had before, whatever my feelings had been, I had never wanted that. But that was the situation, and that morning, I had to do right by those living, by Mrs. Morrison’s victims.
Between the three of us, we carried the small (but strangely heavy) body back downstairs. Emily was not to be found in the office or the bedroom; undoubtedly, she did not wish to view Lydia’s remains again. With the help of the girls, I found a simple nightgown that would actually cover up the wound on Lydia’s neck. All cleaned out, it did not look so very deep; I imagined that she had been left to bleed and choke for hours, and the idea of it made me shudder.
Jiao expertly arranged Lydia to look as though she’d been in bed for days. I stood back and looked down at her unmoving form contemplatively. Yes, the doctor would know the truth, but no one else would be able to tell the difference. She’d died of an illness…what else did anyone need to know?
When we left Lydia’s body alone in the room, we found Emily in the office again. I only noticed then that she had brought my trunk of things into the office. “I suppose you must be going now, then?” she asked quietly.
“Yes,” I said, but I did not move. I said my goodbyes to the girls, never to see them again, and they left us alone. Emily did not cry as I held her, but I could feel her trembling. “Everything will work out, my darling,” I promised her. “Joseph will bring the doctor by soon, I’m sure, and this whole thing will be straightened out forthwith.”
“Oh, sir,” she sighed, and I knew that that was not the extent of her troubles. Nothing to be done about that now, I thought, and then felt ashamed of my callousness. I did not want to part this way.
I kissed Emily softly. “I’m very eager to meet young Alice. You’ve spoken so highly of the girl.”
Emily had to smile a little at that. “You will like her, I’m sure. She’s a sweet thing.” She had met Alice for church services the previous week, and though she had told the girl about me, and about my connection with her family, I had not yet made her acquaintance. “She is very excited to meet her sister-in-law as well.”
“Her sister-in-law is not the best influence for a young girl,” I said teasingly, though I did not mean that at all. “I have no doubt that she and Tatiana will love each other.”
Emily kissed me softly. “You should go now, sir. Take to the trees until you are off the property, so as not to be seen…”
I kissed her again, and looked into her eyes. “I love you, Emily. Come to me in Omaha. I will inquire at the train station for you every day until you do.”
“I love you, too, sir,” she said tearfully. “Goodbye.”
Parting from her was too painful, and I could not stay to comfort her. But at least we got to say goodbye that time. She was not snatched away from me rudely. And, had I known that all would work out as planned, and that we would be reunited in only a fortnight, I would not have left ‘Lydie Smithwick’s Place’ with such a heavy heart.
Alice Shelton was, indeed, a sweet girl. She was a few years older than my Mina, and though her inquisitive nature reminded me of my beloved child, she had more tact than my outspoken daughter. At least, she waited until we had been traveling together for a couple of days before she started posing any truly probing questions.
She was shy upon first meeting me, though she knew who I was. Her boarding school, a small Catholic school consisting of one tall, narrow building beside a chapel, had already been sent a message by Joseph that I would be retrieving her. Addressing me by my married title, the Mother Superior, a middle-aged woman who may have been sour-faced much of the time, was very polite and accommodating. “We are sorry that Alice will be leaving us,” she said.
“Yes, but she’s going home to her family,” I said. “They’ve been waiting for her for a long time.” The Mother Superior praised the Lord at the girl’s good fortune. As I waited for my beneficiary, I smiled, knowing that I was still able to charm women…even those who had taken vows of chastity.
The girl appeared, and I rose to greet her. She shyly contemplated me, giving me a polite curtsy. I went to her and pressed her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you, Miss Shelton,” I said.
The poor girl didn’t know what to say, and we had to leave with some haste. I bid goodbye to the Mother Superior, and led the girl to a waiting carriage, where her few things had already been loaded. We would be traveling light.
“Has your brother told you the plan yet?” I asked the girl kindly as the carriage made its way to the train station.
“No, sir,” she said hesitantly. “I…I only received word that you would be coming for me.”
“I am sorry to pull you away from school so unexpectedly,” I said. “Mrs. Singer told you that I am acquainted with your family, did she not?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We are beginning the journey homeward,” I said, and I was granted a shy little smile from the girl.
“Are Mrs. Singer and Joe meeting us at the station, sir?” she asked.
“No,” I said, and she frowned a bit. “We are traveling ahead, and will be waiting on them. They…they have business to wrap up here, and your brother thought it would be better if you came ahead with me. Is that all right?” I asked. Not as though the girl had any say in the matter, but I did not wish for her to be uncomfortable with me.
“Yes, sir,” Alice finally answered. I remembered then that the poor child had been abused by a guardian once, so I imagined that she was wary of me. But I would earn her trust before too long. Knowing how much she meant to people who were very important to me, I was quite protective of her in our travels, and I spoke to her kindly, carefully, but was friendly enough. She eventually warmed to me.
On the way to Omaha, we sat in a large compartment together, and she told me about her studies at school. After a day of traveling together, I commented, “It must be a bit strange for you, though, going to a Catholic school and church.”
“Why do you say that, sir?” Alice asked mildly.
“Because you are Jewish.” Alice’s eyes widened in surprise, and I smiled at her.
“Only on my mother’s side,” she finally replied.
“Ah, yes, but by religious doctrine, that makes you Jewish as well,” I said, and she actually smiled at that. She went on to tell me about her mother, who had come from a wretchedly poor family in Eastern Europe. Her father had once been a respected member of the British Navy, and had met her mother during a trip to Moscow when he was on leave. She had been working there (Alice seemed to believe that her mother had been a bar maid; I wondered if she hadn’t actually been a prostitute), and he had fallen in love with her, bringing her back to London with him to be wed.
“I don’t remember my parents very well,” Alice admitted regretfully. “I only know what Joe has told me.” She had been very young when they had died. Her father had been a good man, kindly to his family, and he was not a heavy drinker. But his vice was gambling, and his debts mounted so much that he and his wife were imprisoned.
I have always detested debtor’s prisons. Not only did I find the practice cruel, but also counterproductive. If I’d had the same passion and good heart as my Emily, that might have been my cause as poor orphans had been hers. And of course, the two often go hand-in-hand, as was the case with the poor Shelton children.
Their parents both fell ill and died, the elder Captain Shelton while still in prison, and his wife not long after she was freed. The poor man, decorated veteran that he’d once been, had been buried in a pauper’s grave. Alice recounted all this to me in a serious but somewhat removed manner. After all, she had been quite young. The only life she knew was the one she’d shared with her beloved brother ‘Joe.’
I told her about her brother’s home in the English countryside, and her sister-in-law and nephew. Though I’m certain she’d heard this all from Emily already, she listened politely, and smiled. She was glad to be making the journey. But, though we did not speak of it, and though she could not have had a complete grasp of the situation, we were both anxious for Emily and her brother.
We spoke of them the following evening. We were not far from Omaha by then, and the girl had slept, stretched out across her side of the compartment, for most of the day. I sat opposite her, trying to read, but I was too distracted by my worries. I looked out of the window at the passing landscape, the rolling fields. I wondered if Joseph’s doctor friend had taken the bribe, if Emily had been successful in having Mrs. Morrison cremated, the evidence of her imprisonment and abuse burned away with her body. I could not allow myself to believe otherwise, but still, I worried.
The girl still had not woken by the time dinner was to be served, so I hesitantly shook her gently to stir her. She looked at me with bleary, confused eyes. “We…we’re still on the train?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said. “You should get up and eat, Alice.”
For a brief moment, the poor confused child looked as though she might cry. But she shook her head briefly. “All right,” she agreed, and I helped her to sit up. She took a moment to freshen up before accompanying me to the dining car. Alice was picking at her dinner, not eating much. Though I was tempted to advise her to eat, I noticed that I was merely picking at my own dinner, so I said nothing.
We did not stay long in the dining car. I procured a bottle of wine and we went back to our compartment. I briefly recalled the train rides that I had taken with Emily in our past, especially after we had become lovers. How we would socialize and flirt with the other wealthy passengers, often bringing one or two back with us to play. But on my latest travels, I had not been doing such. I was glad, at least, to have the innocent company of a child.
I thought nothing of drinking my wine straight from the bottle. After my first swig, I saw Alice staring at me, and I felt my cheeks color. What would Emily say to my behavior, around a young, impressionable child? The thought of her disapproval made me smile a little, and Alice smiled as well. “May I try a little, sir?” she asked.
I shrugged. “Why not?” She, too, drank from the bottle, awkwardly, careful not to spill any on the uniform she still wore. I smiled and said, “That’s right, have your sacrament.”
She laughed a little and handed me back the bottle. “I only attended Catholic church to spend time with your wife,” she admitted.
In a more serious tone, I said, “She cares for you very much, Alice. I know she’ll be glad when we’re all reunited, and back with our families.”
I took another drink, and we said nothing for a moment, for the same fear weighed heavily on our minds. After a moment, Alice said, “May I ask you a question, Mr. Singer?”
“Certainly,” I said.
“Are you…” She didn’t seem to know what to say, and I waited patiently. “I mean…your wife is having my brother’s child…do you…?”
I knew what she was driving at, and I smiled. “I love my wife very much. She’s a very special woman.”
“Yes,” Alice agreed.
“We were apart for a long time,” I said, not able to look at Alice. I was speaking more to myself, I suppose. “We didn’t want to be away from each other, but…well, we both sought comfort with…others. And I cannot begrudge her that,” I said simply.
When I looked at Alice, she nodded. “Joe does love Mrs. Singer, but…he’s not in love with her. He couldn’t be.”
“Oh?” I was wondering, how could he not be? “Why’s that?”
“Well, she…Mrs. Singer is the first woman that I know of him…” Alice flushed slightly. “He’s always been more comfortable with…other men.”
“Ah,” I said with a nod. Well, well, Alice seemed to be a very intuitive young girl. She seemed to have picked up on something that my Emily had not mentioned (perhaps she was not aware), and something that I had only felt in his presence. Alice and I did not speak for some time after that admission, as my worried thoughts turned to very perverted ones indeed. After nearly finishing the bottle of wine (with some assistance from Alice), I excused myself to the washroom. I hoped that the girl could not hear me pounding away at my stiff cock like an excited schoolboy.
Omaha was a bustling, growing city in the middle of vast prairie and farm lands, connected to other large cities by the rails. Alice and I found rooms in a nice but simple inn, not far from the train station. We had our separate daily routines. She was fond of exploring the city, and though I accompanied her in the first days, I found her to be savvy enough to trust out on her own. I wondered one afternoon, as I sat in the parlor at the inn, if I would have allowed Emily out alone in a strange city at Alice’s age. I don’t believe I would have; she would have at least had her Nanny along with her.
But Alice was satisfied with her distractions, which is more than I could say. I would spend my days sitting around at the inn, reading the newspaper with little attention, or going to the train station (I had memorized the schedule, and waited for each passenger train coming in from the West). In my quiet times alone, in my room, I would return to the still-unanswered question, the question of what to do with Mrs. Gainsley.
Having taken my aggressions out on Mrs. Morrison (and I felt that Emily was correct in her assertions that the whore had enjoyed it, in spite of everything), and having been reunited with Emily, my feelings toward Mrs. Gainsley had softened. Still, while I nursed the idea of keeping her at Wainwright Hall, allowing her to live under Lady Emily’s forgiveness and protection, I had to wonder if I would allow her to stay, if Emily were not to come back to me. If anything happened to Emily…if she were imprisoned, tried, executed, what have you…I knew that I would not be able to forgive Mrs. Gainsley. So the question remained unsettled until I had Emily in my arms again…not that our decisions would matter in the end.
I had left my contact information at the train station, and one cold, bright morning, while Alice and I were still having breakfast, I received a telegraph. All of my worries were gone when I read it: Emily and Joseph would be in Omaha that afternoon.
Alice stayed by my side that day, eager to see her brother and beloved friend. We went on a brief errand to pick up a couple of dresses that I had purchased for her. She had admired the designs in a shop window in our first days there. Simple, floral dresses, and I felt they would be perfect for her to wear at her new home in the country. As she flushed, I’d offered to have them made and fitted for her.
Though she’d been hesitant to accept my gift, she was eager to wear one of the dresses to the station to greet Emily and Joseph. “Do you think Mrs. Singer will like this one?” she asked, trying it with the hat I’d gotten for her.
I nodded. “You look very charming, Alice.” I could imagine the girl in a few years. She had her brothers’ rounded cheeks (certainly from their Anglo-Saxton father), and her mother’s dark coloring and sharp nose. With her big, dark eyes, she would be an exotic beauty. I had to push aside these thoughts; it would be a long time yet before she’d be old enough to play, though she was a pretty young thing.
We arrived at the train station promptly at 3, and the eastbound train had not yet pulled in. We waited anxiously, but not for long. We stood aside as the passengers streamed out, and Alice and I both watched for Joseph (knowing that little Emily would not be visible above the crowd).
He stepped off the train and spotted us, waving with a smile. He handed down my wife. Emily looked worn out, but she was smiling radiantly, and she saw us immediately. She did not rush to us, but walked briskly, and Alice went to meet her. Emily wrapped her in a tight embrace, kissing the top of her head, before she took the girl’s hand and came to me.
“Hello, sir,” she said softly. I took her by the chin and looked carefully at her face. Yes, the poor dear was exhausted, and in spite of the ideas that would sometimes interrupt my dark thoughts over the past few days, I knew that she needed nothing more than rest. I kissed her softly, briefly, and she wordlessly took my hand.
I offered my other hand to Joseph to shake. He was wearing a fine suit, much nicer than anything else he owned, I knew. “Have we a cab, Singer?” he asked after we exchanged greetings. Though the inn was not far, I had anticipated that they would have heavy luggage, and so we had one waiting. As the trunks were loaded, I noticed a large frame wrapped in canvas.
“Ah,” I whispered to my wife, who had not let go of my hand, “I will finally get to see the portrait?” Emily had teased me back in San Francisco, telling me that Joseph had painted a portrait of her, but that she would not show it to me until we had left the city. She smiled at me coyly then, saying nothing. But I noticed her frowning slightly as Joseph assisted the driver in lifting their luggage onto the carriage.
“Sir,” she whispered, “When is the next train heading east? I believe that we should begin our journey home right away.”
I was startled for a moment. “Has something gone amiss, my dear?” I asked, trying not to show my alarm.
She shook her head. “Oh, no, sir,” she said. Almost bitterly, she added, “It all came together quite handily.”
“Good,” I muttered vaguely, troubled by her anxiety.
“Please, sir,” Emily implored, looking me in the eye. “Please, can’t we begin our travels homeward now? Please, sir…”
“Emily,” I said gently, taking her by the arm. “You’re exhausted, my dear. You must relax, you must rest…”
“I can rest on the train,” she insisted urgently. But I could not let her have her way, and seeing that I would not, she glumly allowed me to help her into the carriage. She forced a smile for her friends as we all rode back to the inn together, but when we were alone in our room (Joseph was bunking with his sister, but not for long), she sighed heavily and sat, morose, upon the bed.
“There, now, my darling,” I said patiently. I sat beside her and wrapped my arms around her, my hands resting on her thick waist. “I know you are anxious to be home again.”
“Oh, sir, I don’t think I can be at ease until I’m with our children again,” Emily sighed.
“The children are quite safe,” I assured her. “They are with Tatiana, and she loves them so. They are fine…besides, darling, there is another child to consider,” I added, rubbing her sweet belly affectionately. She was silent, almost smiling, and I buried my face in her neck, kissing her softly, taking in the sweet scent of her. Mine again! Mine forever, I swore to myself.
Still, she was tense as I held her, rocking her gently. “You will raise my child, sir?” she asked softly.
“Yes, Emily,” I agreed. “I will raise and love your child as much as our other children, as long as you will raise mine.”
“Oh, yes, sir,” she agreed. Ah, but only brought up the question of Mrs. Gainsley, and I did not yet want to put my wife through that exhausting conversation. I managed to comfort Emily enough that she agreed to rest, and that we would stay in Omaha for only a couple of days, to get our bearings straight, before resuming our travels. I stripped her, but did not play with her, only holding her close until she slept deeply.
I hesitated to leave her, but I needed to speak with Joseph. I locked her securely in the room, and sought him in the dining area of the inn. It was going on suppertime, so I joined him in the near empty room for our meal and a conversation. He filled me in on the details of how the plan with Mrs. Morrison’s body laid out. His “friend,” Dr. Connors, had agreed to the bribe, and had filled out the necessary paperwork to have her death documented as the result of an illness. There was no police investigation, Joseph revealed. The only difficulty had been in disposing of the body itself, but Emily herself had found someone who would discreetly transport and cremate the body…for the right price, of course.
Only after Emily had settled the affairs of the place (which had come together quite handily as well, as Jiao and Ester had decided to take on the place themselves for their own ‘business venture’) had she disposed of Mrs. Morrison’s ashes. She had privately gone out to the bay and scattered them into the water. That had been the day before their departure; Joseph did not see Emily again until very late that evening.
“I am worried about her,” he admitted. “She’s hardly eaten.”
I frowned, and put in an order for her own dinner, which I would force her to eat after I was finished with Joseph. “So the business is completely settled, then?” I asked. “All of her ties with that place are cut?”
Joseph confirmed this, and I felt assured. Emily would be fine, perfectly fine, once we were home again. I was convinced of this. I didn’t want to hurry the trip, for the sake of her health, but I felt sure that she would be back to her old self when she was back in her home, with her children. I knew that the past six years had changed her, had hardened her a bit, but she was still the sweet, soft Emily that I’d always loved. It pained me that one so sweet, so giving and kind, would have to go through such terrible ordeals. And I was supposed to have protected her.
I distracted myself by bringing up a much lighter topic of conversation. The dining hall cleared of other patrons, I said, “Joseph, I’m sure that my wife has told you about how our relationship has always been somewhat…open. Sexually, I mean.”
Joseph nodded uneasily. “Still, I think that she did feel guilty for our…indiscretions,” he said.
I waved my hand. “I am not one to judge her,” I said. “You know that I have a pregnant mistress back at home? And this being the same woman who betrayed us. But,” I went on, “for the most part, our relationship has been quite a blessing, and we have shared our love with our friends. She has always been very generous,” I added, and Joseph nodded in agreement. “So, that being said,” I continued, “I’m sure you won’t mind my asking this: How many women have you slept with, besides my lovely wife?”
Joseph was startled by the question, to be sure, but he knew that he could not deny me an honest answer. He knew he owed me at least that much. “It’s only been her, and…and a young lady in London,” he confessed. “A girl friend from my younger days as a street urchin.”
I nodded. “I see. And, how many men?”
“I…I beg your pardon, sir?”
I smiled. “You understood my question perfectly, Joseph. How many men have you been with? Or have you lost count?”
Joseph went pale for a moment. But slowly, a smile played on his lips. “I’ll say, it has been several,” he admitted, his voice very quiet. Seeing that I was not passing judgment, he relaxed a bit. He explained that, while a young, poor boy in London, he had pleasured men in back alleys for a pittance (but enough to survive). While staying in the back of a pub, he’d been very intimate with the pub owner’s son…but had ended that relationship when he’d gone after his sister to America. He’d had a few trysts with men that he’d encountered in his travels, even making quite a few “friends” in San Francisco…including Dr. Connors.
As he explained all this, unraveling his sexual history to me, I silently nodded and kept my expression neutral. But the fantasies I’d been nursing became more vivid…yes, I was going to please my sweet wife, and I would make her forget her troubles for good. When Joseph was finished with his story, I finally ventured a question.
“Out of curiosity,” I said casually, “Why Emily?”
“Singer,” he said laughing, “You know the answer to that one. You see, at the place, she always tried to be as…discreet as possible. Asexual. But for me, it had quite the opposite effect, and I think it was the same for others. Her pretended severity and her soft-hearted nature…she glows with sexuality, don’t you agree?”
“Oh, yes,” I nodded. She’d been giving off that same glow since she was a curious little lady of 15.
“I do happen to prefer men,” Joseph said, unnecessarily. “But I…I never had any other men with Mrs. Singer, I promise you that.”
“Did Emily know of your interest in men?” I asked.
“I daresay not,” he admitted. “I think I was afraid to admit it…not because of her religious ways, for I knew she would not disapprove, but because I…I thought she’d want someone else to join us.”
“She is adventurous,” I admitted with a sigh, though I could not allow myself to believe that she would be with two men (such a wild whore!) without me. “But she is a good girl.” I thought of her again, so distressed, not eating, exhausted, and pregnant, and I knew that my fantasies would have to wait. I gave Joseph what I hoped would be a seductive, knowing glance, before I stood. “I will see to her now. Goodnight, Joseph.”
“Goodnight, Singer,” he said, looking a bit disappointed.
“She’ll need a good night’s rest, I think,” I said, taking on my same pretended casual tone. “Perhaps you might call on us in the morning.” I left without another word, and I could feel the young man’s eyes watching me as I left the dining room.
I had not felt an attraction to another man since…well, since Sir Peter Wainwright. For you see, I had a sometimes-sexual relationship with my old friend, the best friend I’d ever had (besides his daughter, my own wife). We were not in love…I would not even say that we had been lovers. But occasionally…especially after the death of his wife Lady Anne, when I would go to spend a long weekend or holiday at Wainwright Hall…we would have some intimate time together. I blushed, actually blushed, as I thought of it again. I had not thought of that in so long…and yet, had it not always been in the back of my mind, as I’d been fucking his daughter?
I had not told Emily about these trysts with her father. How could I have told her about them when she was a little girl under my care? But as I went into our room, I decided that it was time to reveal any secrets that we’d been keeping from each other…and what better way to start than with that?
Emily was not sleeping when I entered. She rolled over and looked at me sadly, not rising from her pillow. “Hello, darling,” I cooed, and she forced a small, sweet little smile.
“Hello, sir.”
“I have supper for you, dear,” I said. I noted how pale she looked, how her little cheeks were slightly shrunken. My poor little angel! Before she could even think to protest, I added, “You will eat, my love. You must.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, and her smile did not look so forced as she sat up a little. I helped her to prop herself up on her pillows. I could not resist kissing her, a bit forcefully, before using my necktie to bind her wrists behind her back. She was giggling, so giddy…even after all she’d been through with her cruel ‘Mother,’ she still enjoyed playing with her best friend. I kissed her again and ran my hand down her bare chest, giving her tit a little squeeze before breaking away to get her dinner plate.
My teasing proved to be enough to distract her, at least long enough for her to realize how hungry she was. She ate her entire dinner, allowing me to feed her as I lovingly rubbed her belly. At one point I felt her little child stirring inside of her, and I looked into my wife’s eyes, knowing she had felt it, too. I kissed her briefly and murmured, “Parentage aside, this is my child.”
“Yes, sir.”
“All the better,” I added in jest. “The child will be lovelier without my biological influence.”
Emily sighed and shook her head. “Oh, no, sir.”
“But Joseph is a handsome young man,” I said, and she looked at me in surprise. I smiled. “Yes, quite handsome. Almost…pretty.” I made my wife take another bite of her supper, and she chewed slowly, staring at me in curiosity. “Emily,” I said, “Don’t you think it would be fair if we both enjoyed the pleasure of Joseph’s company? We’ve always shared, haven’t we?”
She swallowed and whispered, “You would, sir?”
“Yes, darling,” I said. “I would.” And I told her everything, of Joseph’s urges, and of my secret relationship with her father, which had started when we were still in school. She said nothing as I revealed this, and when I’d finished, she giggled in pleasure.
“Oh, sir, I knew it,” she said breathlessly. “I knew that you had my father…”
“Actually, my darling,” I said, smirking (yet blushing again at the confession), “More often than not, your father had me.”
Emily gasped. So worldly she was, so far from innocent, yet I could still surprise and delight her. “Oh, sir,” she sighed.
I pushed her dirty dinner plates off the bed and leaned into her, keeping one protective hand upon her belly as I touched her face and kissed her. “Your father was a sometimes-timid man, but when we were alone…well, Emily, I can only imagine the fun that he and your mother had together.”
“Sir,” Emily said in surprise, “Surely you must have known my mother.”
I shook my head. “No, darling. I always told you that I did not know your mother well, and that is the truth. Sir Peter would not allow that. He wanted to have Lady Anne all for himself.” Had it been better if I had only allowed Emily to be mine? That question had haunted me for years, during our time apart. Together again, though, I knew we would not be able to resist our urges, and Joseph would be joining us quite soon.
I told Emily that I had invited Joseph to play with us in the morning. “But tonight, my angel,” I said, kissing her again, “You’re all mine.” She nodded and allowed me to untie her wrists, in order to reposition them behind her head, secured to the bars that made up the headboard. She pushed up her hips to meet me, craving me, moaning loudly without restraint. She needed me so much, her arousal revived by her short rest and the meal…and the shocking news that I’d given her.
I was not even tempted to tease her. I tore off my clothes and I fucked my pretty little wife well into the night, keeping her tied down and enjoying her body with my lips, my tongue, my hands, my cock. Every inch of her received attention, and after I’d covered the front side of her thoroughly with kisses and love bites while fucking her slowly, I flipped her over (on her side, so as not to crush the baby inside of her) and enjoyed her backside, fucking her ass while tracing my fingers over the faded scars on her back, and nibbled at her neck. She moaned and whimpered and begged for pleasure, and I fingered her clit, and when I’d finished fucking her ass, I went down on her, licking her to another orgasm as she gasped and screamed.
We were both exhausted and quite satisfied when I put her on her back again. Her chest still heaving, she looked up at me, smiling brightly. I loomed over her, snarling in that same teasing way that always turns her on, though my heart was bursting with love for her. I’d never let her go.
“Filthy whore,” I said lovingly. “Does this nasty slut need her friend to give her a bath?”
“Yes, sir,” she panted. “Please, sir, I’m a dirty little whore.”
“Yes you are,” I agreed. “So dirty,” I snarled in her ear, kissing and sucking on her neck as she giggled again. I would never grow tired of that tinkling little sound. Even in her later years, whenever Emily would giggle like that, she seemed so young and sweet again. But she was always sweet, always my precious, nasty little cunt, and at that moment, I loved her as much as I ever had.
We bathed together as we had so many times before, with my legs wrapped around her waist as I washed her belly and her tender breasts, teasing her nipples as she sighed. We said nothing as I washed her body, and her hair. We needed no words; as we held each other, we knew everything would be all right in the end. Even with so many unanswered questions, it would be all right. We were together.
After toweling my wife dry and spreading lotion on her soft body, I combed her wet hair as we sat in bed together, and I remembered doing the same on our first night together. So long ago…yet my feelings for her had not changed. If anything, I felt that I loved her more. We were pleasantly silent as I tucked her under the covers, and extinguished the lights before joining her. Her expanding body was still warm and slightly moist from our bath, and she smelled so sweet. I kissed her and held her, And as we slept peacefully that night, I felt that I was in heaven.
The next morning, I woke early to find that Emily had left my side. In a moment of panic, I turned over and looked around the room. She was sitting, already clothed, at the small desk in the corner of our room, busily writing. She felt my eyes upon her, and she looked up. “Good morning, sir.”
“Emily,” I scolded, “What are you doing up?” I took up my pocket watch from the bedside table, and noted that it was before six.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said, rising from her seat and coming back to the bed slowly. “I am so used to getting up early.” I sat up and opened my arms to her, and she fell into my embrace, giggling sweetly again as I held her.
“What are you working on, my restless darling?” I asked, kissing her cheek.
“I’m just writing a letter to Tatiana,” she said. “I wanted to let her know that we will be coming home soon. I…I want to tell her to go back to Wainwright Hall.”
I frowned. “Beatrice will be showing. I have no doubt that she’s larger than you are now.” I knew how concerned Emily had always been for her reputation among our old friends and neighbors.
She sighed. “Oh, sir, people will talk. They’ll talk when we return, you know they will. And as Tatiana has always said, what are we to do about it? I want our children to be home, sir,” she said, almost firmly. “I want Beatrice to be cared for by Dr. Yates. He…” she asked hesitantly, “He’s still practicing, isn’t he, sir?”
She didn’t have the heart to ask if he were still alive. After all, Dr. Yates was an old man. He had already been practicing for 20 years when he’d delivered Lady Emily herself. I smiled and said, “Dr. Yates is quite well, and he has been seeing to Peter all these years.”
“Peter?” Emily asked, very concerned. I regretted my words; I had not yet hinted to Emily that her son had not been well. “What is the matter with our Peter?”
“He’s only a little small for his age, darling,” I said gently, but her face fell. She was clearly very distressed. “Not to worry, Emily. Our boy is quite well. He’s a good boy, and he always plays well with his sister. He’s fine, darling.” I felt that I was lying to her as I said this, and when we returned home, my lies would be revealed. But at that moment, I was most concerned about Emily.
“Oh, sir, we must get home,” she said helplessly.
“We will, my love, don’t worry,” I said. “You may write Tatiana and send everyone home. I think you are right, my dear, Wainwright Hall is the best place for all of us. It will be lovely for them all to be home, waiting for you.”
We still avoided the topic of Mrs. Gainsley, though Emily had expressed that she wanted her to return to our home as well. My big-hearted Emily! I resisted the urge to play again, and I allowed Emily to return to the desk and finish her letter as I rose and dressed myself.
Around seven, we were ready to seek our breakfast, but there came a knock at the door. Emily opened it to find Joseph, holding an enormous platter of breakfast foods, and he hurried in and placed it on the small table. Emily greeted her friend with a warm kiss on the cheek. “Good morning, Joseph. Where is Alice?”
“Still in bed, I daresay,” Joseph said. He shook my hand in greeting, and I could feel him trembling slightly. “I thought you would like some breakfast.”
“Thank you, Joseph,” I said, motioning for he and Emily to sit at the table. But Emily turned to him with imploring eyes.
“Joseph, would you mind getting the portrait? I think it’s time to show it to my husband,” she said, and when she turned to me, I saw a mischievous look in her eyes. What kind of surprise did my darling have for me?
Joseph nodded and went back to his room. Emily came and sat upon my lap at the table, and I kissed her cheek. “Naughty little girl,” I said lovingly, and she gently ran her hands through my hair (much greyer than when we were first parted).
“Oh, sir,” she murmured, “You are so handsome. You ought to let Joseph paint your portrait.”
“Let’s see yours first,” I said. “Will I be pleased with it?”
“Oh, yes, sir,” Emily said, smiling wickedly. “I think you will enjoy it.” She rose from my lap when Joseph entered the open door with the canvas-draped frame, and she closed and locked it as he sat the portrait down on a chair, propping it against the back. I stood, and my wife joined me at my side, as Joseph carefully removed the canvas from the portrait.
It was a pleasant surprise, to say the least. Joseph’s talent was evident in the way he had captured my beloved’s beauty, and he had painted her as though she stood in the shadows in front of a dark window, wearing absolutely nothing, turned away so that her entire ass, and one perky little tit, was visible, as she peeked coyly over her shoulder. I gaped at the painting and approached it slowly, wanting to touch it.
My wife embraced me. “Oh, sir, I knew you would like it.”
“I love it,” I said weakly. I imagined hanging it on the wall in my office…ah, but how could I get any work completed with my naked wife teasing me so? As much as I adored that painting, and as much as it turned me on that morning, it would end up in an unused room at Wainwright Hall, hidden away for our private pleasure.
“Joseph,” I finally managed, turning my attention to the handsome, shy young man, “How can I thank you for this gift?”
“If it is not offensive to Emily, I…” Joseph was timid, but when my wife, clinging to my arm, gave him an encouraging smile, he said, “If you’d allow me to suck your cock, I…”
His eyes widened as I lowered my trousers, not even hesitating for a moment. I could feel my wife tensing up at my side; she would be very excited to watch this. Indeed, I ordered her to sit down as Joseph approached me, eyeing my hard cock. He met my eye and gave me an approving nod. Knowing as many as cocks as the young man had seen (and sucked, surely), I took this as a compliment.
He did not hesitate in going to his knees. I could sense him looking up at me as he slowly took my cock in his experienced mouth, but my eyes were on my Emily. Her chest was heaving, her eyes shining with desire, as she watched me receive pleasure. And though I admit that I found Joseph strangely attractive, I was most excited by the prospect of really playing with my wife again. The same naughty but harmless games we had always enjoyed with each other and others.
“Take off your dress, Emily,” I grunted, moaning as Joseph ran his tongue slowly under my shaft, before taking my large balls in his mouth. “Oh, Christ,” I hissed, seizing my cock as the young man sucked my testicles. The boy knew what he was doing…undoubtedly, he had honed his skills while earning his bread on the streets.
As he took my shaft fully down his throat again, I seized the back of his head, taking his curls in my hand, and rammed my cock into him, staring at my wife. One small hand rested on her belly; the other was stroking her slit, waiting for my permission to pleasure herself. I grinned. “You like this, Emily? Your lover is a good cocksucker, my love, he might teach you a couple of tricks.”
“Oh, he has, sir,” Emily assured me, letting out a moan of desire. I saw her fingering her clit, the sweet bud peeking out, visible to me as my wife spread her legs wider, invitingly.
“You want me, Emily?” I asked. Ah, but Joseph was craving me, and I could not resist pulling out from him and spraying in his face. Indeed, he relished in it, opening his mouth wide and devouring me. I laughed aloud, almost giddy with power, as I watched my wife eyeing me with desire.
“Joseph,” I said, “Wash your face.” The young man obediently went to our bathroom, and I went to my knees before my wife and stuck my head between her legs, lapping at her slowly. She ran her fingers through my hair, moaning, but not begging me to go faster. She was enjoying it so much, though I couldn’t imagine that she was enjoying it more than I…had that been so, she would have literally burst.
She did scream and explode into my mouth, and I drank up her sweet juices. My darling, my only one…I made a decision at that moment, and after wiping my own face, I sat with my love and our lover, and gave them my orders.
“Joseph,” I said, “You have known Emily better than anyone else, other than myself. I am grateful that you offered her comfort. But I am her husband, and her master,” I said, and I turned to Emily. She smiled at me, adoring me, and I knew she would not be opposed to my decision. “You may play with us, but her sweet little pussy is mine. All mine.”
Emily put her head on my shoulder. Joseph nodded in agreement, and I understood that his attachment to my wife was an emotional one, more than a physical one. He smiled when I added, “You may, of course, have access to her ass…as long as she is so willing.” I ran a hand through my Emily’s hair and she looked up at me, smiling, and I knew that she would be happy again, that she did not regret my coming for her.
As though to seal the terms of our agreement, Joseph and I shared my wife on the bed. Joseph lubricated his circumcised cock before entering my wife’s willing ass (I knew that he’d had her there many times before). Emily was on her hands and knees, kneeling with her legs spread and her ass stuck up in the air. Joseph fucked her at an angle, to the left, and I positioned myself to the right and thrust into her gaping, dripping cunt. Emily groaned as we pumped into her, her forehead resting on the thick pillows as we thrust awkwardly into her. We eventually found our pace, both fucking her hard, and she whimpered and cried for more.
I understood my wife very well as her lover and I fucked her simultaneously. She so enjoyed giving pleasure to others, to people whom she loved. She loved Joseph; that was a fact, she did not hide it and I did not mind. She offered him pleasure, as she had offered pleasure to so many others, and to me especially, for she loved me best. There was nothing for her to be ashamed of. She used her body to make others feel good.
Joseph had the pleasure of cleaning Emily’s ass with his tongue after we both came. I sat beside Emily and stroked her back with one hand and teased her clit with the other, feeling her tremble with desire. “Oh, please, sir,” she whispered. “May I come again, please?”
“Does my whore deserve to come?” I asked, rubbing her just a little more roughly. “Have you been my good girl, Emily?”
“Oh, sir, I’ve tried,” she sighed, sounding distressed. I had not meant to tease her.
“There now, whore, you are my good girl,” I assured her, fingering her gaping, dripping cunt. “Your friend would like to make you come, please do, just for me, love.”
I rubbed her as Joseph wriggled his tongue in her asshole, and she moaned and came with a short, choked cry. When I helped her to turn and sit up, her pretty face was stained with tears. I took my handkerchief and wiped them gently. “There, now, my dear,” I said with a smile. “We’ve had our proper playtime again. We still have our fun, don’t we, Emily?”
“Yes, sir,” she said, smiling, though I still was not certain if she was truly pleased. “Thank you, sir.” She smiled at her former lover, who stood awkwardly by, still naked. “Thank you, Joseph. I’m so glad that we’re all friends now.”
Joseph nodded. I stood and kissed him briefly, which surprised him and made Emily giggle a little. “Thank you, Joseph,” I echoed my wife. “We will see you for dinner this afternoon?”
Joseph took the hint, and he dressed quickly and left with a smile. He certainly seemed pleased with our new arrangement…but how did my wife, though physically satisfied, truly feel about it? I joined her on the bed, and put my arms around her. “How are you feeling, Emily?” I asked.
“Oh, sir, I really am glad that we’re all friends,” Emily said. “That’s all worked out better than I could have imagined.”
“But what’s troubling you, Emily?” I asked. I noticed her hesitation, and it shamed me. “Come, now, my dear,” I said gently, stroking her face. A part of me still couldn’t believe that I had her again. I was determined that she would trust me completely, that she would know that I would never harm her in any way. “You can tell me anything, Emily. Open up to your friend.”
“I just feel so awful about how things ended,” she whispered, and I knew that she meant with Mrs. Morrison. “I was angry enough to kill her, at one time. More than once,” she admitted. “But after she was really dead, I thought…well, sir, if I could change it all, if I could go back, I would have wanted it to end peaceable. It almost did, I suppose…I know I wanted her to have the chance to redeem herself.”
“I know, my love,” I said patiently. “But there is nothing to be done for it now, is there?”
Emily sighed. “No, sir. It is too late for Mrs. Morrison, and that’s…that’s just how it is, I suppose.” She was on the verge of tears again, but I allowed her to continue. “But sir, that’s why we must be merciful to Beatrice.”
I was not surprised by this declaration. Emily continued, “I have been thinking it over, sir, and Beatrice is our friend. In spite of what has passed,” she plowed on, as I almost spoke a protest (for what friend of ours would treat us in such a way?), “I think that we ought to let her stay with us. I…I do love her, sir, for taking care of you and our children while I’ve been away.”
“But if it weren’t for her,” I said, a little less patiently, “you wouldn’t have been away.”
Emily shook her head. “Not necessarily, sir,” she said. “Somehow…somehow Lydia would have gotten me. That was her way, sir. She always took what she wanted.” She sighed again, and I took her hand. “The decision is ultimately yours, sir, but I have forgiven Beatrice for everything, and I hope you will do the same.”
What else could I do? In spite of my anger towards her, I loved Beatrice. Emily knew this, and she understood me as I understood her. “My dear, I have always said that Wainwright Hall is your home. And if you wish for Beatrice to remain there with us, then so be it.”
“Oh, sir, this really is the only way,” Emily said, smiling a little. “After all, your child would remain with you, and a child should never be without its mother.” She frowned a bit. “Oh, sir, we really do need to hurry home.”
“We will leave tomorrow, Emily,” I promised her. And so we did. Our party of four left Omaha, and just as I had been fortunate in my smooth travels westward, we were able to secure passage back east with ease. My travels were much more enjoyable this time around, with both Emily and Joseph to play with on the ship, while Alice was distracted by everything else that was going on around her.
As our ship finally arrived in London, my Emily (bigger now, so big that I swore to put her to bed as soon as we were home, and not let her rise again until she’d given birth) trembled with excitement, so much so that she could not pack our things. I had her sit down as I did it myself, and she chattered excitedly. “Oh, sir, I cannot wait to hold our darlings in my arms again!” she declared happily. I could not resist stopping to kiss her, for she was so radiantly beautiful that morning. Glowing with happiness, with hope. Her cheeks were full and back to their normal coloring, thanks to my strict care. I felt that our troubles were behind us for good.
Ah, but we were in for an unpleasant shock upon our homecoming, one that would ruin Emily’s perfect dream for our lives together.
I was surprised when Emily proposed staying for one night in London, rather than taking the first train home. “I think that is a good idea, my dear,” I said. “But why the change of heart?”
“Sir,” Emily said quietly, pulling me aside from Alice and Joseph as they stood near our rented carriage, “Joseph told me that he wishes to see his old friend.” I remembered what I had learned about Joseph’s former lover, the pub owner’s son. “I don’t think it’s too much to ask, and I don’t wish to leave him behind and proceed homeward without him.”
“Fair enough, Emily,” I agreed. I did not speak of this to Joseph, but as our carriage took us to a hotel, I noticed how excited he looked. Ah, but this was nothing compared to Emily, or Alice for that matter.
I addressed the girl as we rode along. “I’ve had word sent to your brothers and sisters about your arrival. They don’t live far from the city.”
“Will we have time to see them, sir?” Alice asked.
“I’m afraid not,” I said. “We’ll be leaving tomorrow, but I imagine that you’ll be paying them a visit quite soon. You’ll get to meet your sister-in-law and nephew tomorrow.”
“Tatiana,” Alice said, remembering what she’d been told. She said to Lady Emily, “She’s your best friend, Mrs. Singer?”
“Oh, yes, she’s wonderful,” Emily said, and though she’d told the girl the same thing many times since we’d left Omaha, she spoke with as much enthusiasm as ever. “We grew up together in the countryside. You’ll never meet a more loving person than your Tatiana.” Tears filled my wife’s eyes briefly, for I knew she had missed her friends deeply, but she was happy that she would be reunited with them soon.
At the hotel, we secured two adjacent suites. Joseph stayed only long enough to see that his sister was settled, and he stopped into our rooms briefly before parting. “Depending on how it all turns out, I may not return until morning,” he admitted with blushing cheeks. “But I swear that I’ll make it back in time to take the first train out.”
“We’ll see to Alice,” Emily promised, and kissed him on the cheek on his way out. “Goodnight, Joseph.”
After closing the door, Emily turned and looked at me, smiling radiantly. “Oh, sir,” she declared, “everything really is going to be all right, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes, darling,” I promised (a lie, a damned lie). I opened my arms and she stepped into my embrace. How do you suppose our evening progressed from there?
As promised, Joseph joined us the next morning in time for an early breakfast. The girls hardly ate, they were both so excited, but I did manage to coax a little food down Emily’s throat. We made our way to the station, unburdened by our luggage, as it was already waiting for us there. We secured passage and were on our way home, to arrive by the afternoon.
Emily did not leave our compartment at all during the train ride, though I could tell by her discomforted expression that she needed to relieve her bladder. I knew she was afraid to run into anyone we knew, and her fear mounted as we came closer to home. I took her hand and squeezed it, and neither of us said a word.
Emily would later admit that she’d been tempted to wear a black veil and to take Alice’s hand, to cover up her identity as we arrived at the train station. But she held her head up and did not let go of my hand as we stepped onto the platform. If we were seen by any acquaintances, we didn’t know it; we hurried from the station to a rented carriage, and Emily finally looked at ease as we left the busy village and made our way to Wainwright Hall.
“Your sister-in-law ought to be there waiting for us, and she’ll send for your brother,” Emily told our friends. “Oh, I really cannot wait for you both to meet her, to be home again. Oh, I’m so happy!” She still had not let go of my hand, and she turned to me, smiling brightly. I knew she was happy, perhaps happier than she’d been in a very long time, even before we were first parted. If only it could have lasted!
When the carriage pulled in front of Wainwright Hall, I had to keep Emily (pregnant belly and all) from jumping out of the carriage. She allowed me to hand her down, and she eagerly led Joseph and Alice inside. Mrs. Shelton, having heard us coming, was waiting for us alone in the hall.
“Lady Emily,” she said, smiling and embracing her friend heartily. “I received your letters, dear, I’m so glad that you’re home.”
“Sweet Tatiana,” Emily said, crying tears of joy and kissing her friend’s cheek. “Meet your brother- and sister-in-law, my darlings Joseph and Alice Shelton.”
As Mrs. Shelton tearfully greeted her lost family members, I saw Emily looking about anxiously. “Tatiana,” I said, “Where are the children?”
At that moment, Mina appeared. I was startled by how much older she seemed at that moment, as she came down the hall. But, seeing her mother, her face crumpled. “Mummy, is it you?” she asked.
“Oh, my dear little Mina,” Emily cried, and Mina fell into her mother’s arms, crying pitifully. “There, now, my precious love, I’m so sorry for all of it…I won’t ever leave you again, Mina, Mummy is here now, don’t cry.”
“Mummy, it’s horrible!” Mina managed between sobs, crying against her mother’s shoulder. I glanced at Tatiana, who held young Alice’s hand; her face was pale. “Mummy,” Mina said, “Peter died, he’s dead!”
Emily blanched as Mina stepped away from her, still crying. “Oh, no,” Emily whispered. “No, no, it can’t…no.” I stepped toward her at the right moment, as I was able to catch her as her knees gave out, and she fainted into my arms.
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