An Arrangement of Sorts Ch. 04

It had been Joss who had found a local farmer to rent the field to on a more stable basis, and she told Chris that she'd tell him and prepare for the year that it ought to be left fallow to minimize the loss of the rent for that year. He didn't know squat about farming and left it to her with a nod. She made it clear to the renter that there would be no crops that took too much out of the land and she reserved the right to refuse.

There were a few things that set them apart a little bit as a couple. He could take Joss to any function such as the "office" dances or the Christmas Party and she was the perfect complement to him. But outside of functions like that, if one looked closely enough and knew what to look for, it could be seen.

It didn't matter if they were walking in town or having dinner in a restaurant – anywhere, she'd dress for it, from an evening gown to just jeans, boots and a top, she was friendly and polite, exuding the Southern charm that was a part of her. But there were other things which might be seen if one could see them. You just had to know them to understand, that was all.

Underneath whatever she might be wearing, Joss considered herself to be his woman and there were times when she acted as his slave, though never in a demeaning sense or in public. She was fiercely proud of herself and Chris and she knew how they needed each other. If they were at a bar and a man tried to catch her eye, he was rebuffed politely with a very slightly haughty look, and if she had to say it, she said it plainly. All of her actions had a slight undertone to them that was all but invisible, but some women could see it easily.

She was proud, but she was his.

She'd started out with an idea and a proposal. He didn't care what she called it. From his point of view, he never had a thought about who owned his heart. He's never loved like this before.

They also had another understanding that had been Joss' idea. Like any couple, they had disagreements and her vote carried the same weight as his. But it was clear and understood that any tiff or spat between them was considered as temporary – even as it was in play. They slept together always , even if she was mad at him, or the other way around, unless his duty took him away for a little while. And they both held their physical relationship to be separate and sacrosanct. He could be annoyed with her or she with him, but in that bed it meant nothing. That way, they both knew that there were no little undercurrents other than what ought to be there and it kept them happy as a couple. She never held back and he didn't either. A lot of the times, issues were forgotten just like that because of it.

He always told her that she was missing out on a great career as a relationship counselor.

But there was one thing that never was resolved between them. They were both happy and Chris often asked her to marry him.

She refused every time.

Joss told him that he'd already put the things in place for her if something should happen to him and that the laws already granted her common spousal rights. To her, the act of getting married had caused them both pain in the past and she wouldn't hear of it between them.

Joss was still a bit of a nudist and she loved to spend an afternoon at the pond skinny-dipping with Chris on his days off during the warmer months. It wasn't all that far from the house, but they always brought a cooler along with something to eat and drink. Joss would turn into Chloe the woodland nymph before his eyes and she never needed a lot of wooing then. Most of the time, it was Joss who initiated the idyllic afternoons between them and sometimes all that it took was for her to reach for him or hum a little tune as she bent over the trunk of an old fallen tree there, looking back at him hopefully.

The slave role had needed a bit of refinement, though.

They'd carpeted a room in the basement and turned it into a combination weight and play room and the bench did a lot of double duty. They had sections of padding that could be hung on one wall.

There were a couple of large eye-hooks and padded grip bars there so that Joss could be restrained by looping the chain between her handcuffs over a hook so that she stood on her tiptoes if she was barefoot, and there were others set at slightly different heights to take spike heels into account. Joss liked it hard then, but never abusive. When she begged to have it hard, she didn't mean painful – she meant forceful. It took Chris a while to understand the difference, though he didn't mean to hurt her. He just didn't know better, since Julie had always just wanted pounding.

"Ow! Chris, you're hitting the end of me like this," she said.

"Sorry," he said in a little frustration with himself.

She asked him to free one of her hands and told him to do whatever he needed to stay hard for a moment without her. She went to the kitchen, coming back with a small frying pan. He stared at her, but she said nothing as she raised her hands above her head again to grab one of the bars, but with the pan in her free hand.

"What's the pan for?" he asked.

"This is about control," she said. "I'm the slave here, but I'm really in control in a way. I'm just letting us have fun this way and it's fantastic right up to a point. You always forget and then you ram me too hard after I've got my legs around you and I can't have much fun if I'm seeing stars. You can do that all you want before I raise my legs, but not after. You're in me too deep then. So let's try this again."

She chuckled seeing his face, "Here's the plan. You fuck me just like before, but when I get my legs around you, if you bang into me and it hurts one more time, I'm gonna make YOU see stars for a minute with this old pan."

They laughed at each other, but he got the message. Soon he was ploughing her just the way that she liked it, listening to him grunt and strain and catching little glimpses of his teeth now and then when he wasn't chewing on her throat. He loved to hear the way that he made her whimper and moan then. When she looked about ready, he'd unhook her and she'd almost collapse onto the floor and then she'd try to feebly crawl away, but it was just her signal to him that she wanted it hard into her from behind then until she was in a gasping heap, and he had to hold himself up over his conquest as she smiled weakly back at him. She'd softly whisper that she loved him and those moments were beyond anything that he'd ever experienced in his life.

She got to the point where she could see it in Chris' eyes when he wanted his beautiful slave girl. She'd disappear without a word and return wearing her collar and not much else, other than maybe heels and if she was feeling 'special' that time, she'd wear the chainmail bikini that she'd had made for her for fun. It was lined with soft flannel so that it wouldn't chill or pinch her and the clasp for the top was at the front. The bottom piece could be unfastened underneath her if they were in a hurry.

Sometimes she ran around the house all day like that for him.

Sometimes she just forgot about the chainmail.

But she always wore her collar then and he'd often surprise her by reaching for her as she was on her way by and holding her just to stroke her back or her thigh for a moment. It would make her stop to stand still for him, but he'd say that he was just taken with her at that instant and wanted to hold her and that he never wanted what was between them to end.

If he was on the phone, she'd often walk in silently and curl up on the square of carpet underneath his desk and blow kisses at him from between his knees. If he reached for her head to stroke her hair, she'd put her head down on his thigh and pet him softly through his pants, hoping.

She often got her wish, and he'd allow her to help him get his pants off. She was never invasive while he was on the phone, she just licked and sucked a little, very softly. She could wait, and she was very pleased to then, especially if he gave her the nod to let her know that she was allowed to help herself as she waited for him.

She had another swimsuit of the same material that she liked to wear at the beach whenever they were at the coast, and those were about the only times when she was anywhere near blatant about belonging to him in a public setting. They drove on down to the gulf to spend a week with Lucas and Shannon in his time-share there.

She drew stares then and though she had always been a bit shy about her body her whole life, she believed Chris when he'd told her straight that she was stunning in a swimsuit. She wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that without him, but she loved the looks that she got from everyone there when they were together. She loved to play with the idea a little and wore the chainmail with her collar.

"Did Chris ask you to wear the collar here?" Shannon asked, watching the looks that her friend was getting.

"Shoot, no." Joss laughed, "I only asked him if he'd mind it if I did. He said no, so, ..." She shrugged with a grin.

Shannon looked over, "Well I can see that he's having fun with it."

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He'd come home one day to find a man leaving with all sorts of drop cloths. Joss told him that she'd had the fireplace and chimney inspected and cleaned out. The fire insurance had been upgraded, but she showed him that the slight expense was justified. They loved to sit on the thick rug in front of the fire together at any time, but her favorite times were when she could lie back against him while he reached over her thigh to toy with her slowly with his fingers. They could just talk and share some wine then and Honey often came to lie down on the rug, just since they were at her level then and it made them smile at each other.

And just like any couple, there were sudden bumps in the road, though there were never any rocks. But there were a couple of incidents which required sharp turns.

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The doorbell rang one day a year later and Joss looked out to see a well-dressed woman in her fifties at the door. She ordered Honey to sit and stay there as she opened the door.

"Please forgive the intrusion," the woman smiled, "is this the residence of Christian Moreth?"

"It is, "Joss smiled, liking the woman and her accent instantly, "He's not at home this minute, but I expect him shortly. I'm his woman. My name is Joss. How can I help you?"

"My name is Bethany Moreth," she smirked, "and I am Christian's old spinster aunt. May I come in, please?"

Joss was confused, but she smiled graciously as the hostess in her took over, "Of course, Bethany. Please come in. May I offer you anything? I was making some tea, but from your accent, I'm thinking that I don't really have the china for it," she smiled apologetically, "We just drink it out of mugs or Mason jars."

"Well, I'd love that, and maybe even more if I might try it from one of those, ... whatever you called them." Bethany didn't show much more than friendliness and pleasure at being invited in, but on the inside she was happy to meet Joss.

"Mason jars," Joss smiled, "They're the same things that you'd use to preserve jams and jellies. I guess it started out of a sense of 'nuthin' fancy', but to me, it's just the way that I like to drink it. I get more out of a cup of tea then, that's all."

They walked to the kitchen, but Joss stopped at the soft whine from Honey. "Forgive me," she said, "but I left the dog at the door. If you're bothered by dogs, I 'll toss her outside. She's just a nosy old thing."

Bethany shook her head, smiling, "That's fine, Joss. Hounds are a large part of my past. I've almost always had one or two. I can put up with a little inquisitiveness from such a lovely dog."

Joss grinned and snapped her fingers. Honey was with them in a flash, though she wasn't rude about it.

"Your name," Bethany smiled, "It's really Jocelyn, is it?"

"Yes, "Joss smiled, "I just prefer Joss, that's all."

"And I think that I heard you refer to yourself as his woman? Is that correct?"

"Yes," Joss said, holding her gaze evenly, "We're not married. He keeps trying to get me to agree, but, well, we both have rotten marriages behind us. Our relationship is a little different, but it works very well and we love each other very much just like this. I'm afraid to ruin it with a ring."

"Oh I know all about the woman in his past," Bethany smiled, "I've only known you personally for three minutes, but I am so pleased to hear what you've just told me."

Joss brought the jars to the table. "Here you are, Bethany. You just need to be careful in the way that you pick it up, since it'll be hot. They do make them with handles now just for this, but, ..."

"Ah," the other woman grinned, "a bit of a purist then, are you?"

It made Joss chuckle a bit, "Yeah, I guess I am at that." She tilted her head a bit, "Forgive me for asking, but as far as I know, Chris doesn't have anything to do with his family anymore and hasn't for a long time. He told me a little of the reasons, but now I'm confused."

Bethany smiled, "Just like anyone else, Christian is descended from two families, Joss. We just haven't seen him for about the last three years, that's all.

He was born a Winterwood, but his father had revealed himself to be a typical Winterwood by that time and my older sister arranged to have him baptized as Christian Moreth-Winterwood. Leslie had a mind of her own and a will just as oaken and iron-clad as any Winterwood's – even more so, and no one from that pack of fallen bootlicks had the balls to gainsay her.

That whole family is nothing more than a dried-up remnant. The last true Lord Winterwood immigrated to America almost two hundred years ago, giving up his title as he did. There really wasn't much of a holding by that time anyway. They all drank through it too quickly for much to be left, and nothing remains from it today, other than as footnotes in some old and dusty records and books. But they were very successful here and made their fortunes back once more.

After Christian made his unfortunate choice in a wife, the whole family turned against him in an instant, but he was never too concerned over that. We were saddened that he was hurt and remained in his heart just as he stayed in ours through it all, but then we are Moreths and it takes more than a bad choice to cause us to turn. I doubt that it's even possible.

What hurt him far more was the pain that girl herself caused him. I'm not here to talk about that unfortunate relationship anyway, though I am so pleased that it is finally over with. Somewhere shortly after it was announced to him that he was now a disgraced Winterwood, Christian reacted in a way that would have made my sister proud and it made me very proud of him too, because it shows what he is made of. He changed his name instantly in response and dropped the Winterood, becoming Christian Moreth instead.

She grinned at Joss and pointed with her finger, "And THAT is the reason that I am here today and very happy to have found him and met you. There is still such a thing as Moreth as a shire, as poor as it is these days, and Christian's grandfather passed on over a year ago. I have been seeking Christian ever since. I've been acting in the stead of the new lord until he could be found, since I have the birthright for it, but the few of us left decided long ago that when the time came for it, that he would be sought and asked."

Joss had been following along so far pretty well, but she needed clarification on this one point.

"Asked what? Or rather, what is it that he needs to be asked about?"

Bethany smiled, "How firm are you about not marrying Christian? I guess that I'm wondering if you might be convinced to marry him – that is, if I can get you to change your mind and if he still holds his desire to wed you and will take up the duty for his family."

"Duty?" Joss was confused now. She knew that this was rather important to Bethany and so she wanted this out on the table plainly. "What duty?"

"I am here to ask him if he would consider claiming his birthright. I hold the title currently, but I'm too old for children quite obviously and Chris is the last in our line with the chance to keep it from dying out. His title is assured by the rules of British peerage and he has the both the birth-line and the birthright. All that I need to do is to convince him that his other family needs him now. I will step aside as soon as he agrees and assume a role in the background in order to guide you both. By right of birth, your man is the Earl of Moreth."

Joss almost dropped her Mason jar at the same time that she began to choke and sputter. Bethany waited politely, seeing at once that Joss was in little danger of asphyxiation.

"Earl of Moreth?" Joss stared.

Bethany nodded, obviously quite pleased, "Yes. It's not terribly large and it's in the North, not far from Scotland. Christian knows it well. Leslie used to send him to me there to spend summers when he was a boy. He is needed now to act as the Earl and to manage several old properties and a crumbling old castle. There is already some connection between them and the National Trust, so the upkeep isn't all out of the Earl's pocket anymore. As well, there are several families with largish investments that are held in the common trust between them and he inherits the managing of them, and that's quite a bit of change. I will help him in that.

He will not be a lord in the sense of the nation's governance, since Moreth gave that up long ago and also because he is an American by place of birth."

Joss sat back and said the only thing that came to mind.

"Holy Cow,..."

It made his aunt laugh. "No, none of those. There are a few snobbish sheep with aspirations, however. There is a delicate little problem brought about now by your insistence at not marrying Christian. The Earl can be single if he desires, but it is tradition that he take a wife. There is no feminine titular equivalent to the title of Earl, however, and the wife of an Earl is known as a Countess, though she is not the wife of a Count. The term has no real application in Britain but 'Countess' is the term for the wife of an Earl."

She leaned forward. "As you might imagine, there is a lot of investigative work before something such as this happens. In my search for him, you were made known to me and I've really known about you here with Christian for about the past month, but I needed to be certain beyond a doubt. Forgive my little ploy, but I needed to get my foot in the door, as it were, and get this conversation underway."

She sat back and smiled, "This is all a big shock to you, I'm certain, but it pleases me to no end that if I might convince you to marry my nephew, you would become the Lady Moreth, and be referred to as the Countess of Moreth."

Joss thought that her jaw just might fall off right there.

"Say the word," Bethany smiled airily as she inspected her nails in a haughty and feigned way, "and you will require a passport. The locals will be upset - some few of the older ones - to find that there is an American-born Earl, but most won't mind, and a lot of them knew Chris as a boy anyway. He still has many friends there. The older set would find a reason to be displeased regardless, so stuff them. They have the same rights as us, but they don't have the upkeep of the estates. You ought to see what it costs to heat a manor."

She grinned, "I already know that you have it in you to be able to fit the role naturally, and your – what do they call it? Your Southern charm and obvious manners will stand you in good stead. You only need to be taught all the ins and outs of the stuffy bits You would make the perfect Lady Moreth. You'll even get used to the title. I've had it all of my life. It is still a rather pleasant little thrill to sign one's correspondence as the Lady Moreth."