Savannah 04

"Be careful, Arnold Whitaker is a foul bastard," she warned, feeling very grown up due to the nature of the conversation and her use of the curse word.

"Yes, so Carnel tells me," he confessed as he made tea. "She hates him."

They sat opposite each other and Amanda assumed her older sister role, warning him about the dangers of becoming too involved. "If a married woman has one affair with a young man, Adam," she explained. "She almost certainly has had others."

"I don't think we are in love, Amanda."

"Good, well, take it for what it is then!"

"I will" Adam said, his keen gaze holding his older sister's eyes. "You could, of course, use it at any time you wish, Amanda."

"Use what?" she asked, with a puzzled frown.

"The apartment," Adam replied.

Amanda held the fan to her face to disguise her slight embarrassment, only her eyes peering over the top at her brother. "Now why would why I need to do that Adam?"

For a second, the young man blushed. Not for the first time when in his sister's presence recently. Since leaving home, she seemed to have blossomed, her body had lost the leggy, straightness of youth and had taken on the rounded fullness of a woman. He often blushed at the forbidden thoughts that crossed his mind.

"Yes, I am sorry." he blurted in apology.

"That's okay, darling," she smiled lowering the fan.

"But then" he went on, pushing the illicit thoughts away. "You could always stay here as a change to the school at weekends.

"By myself?"

"Oh yes, well... maybe we could stay together? Have a little break."

"That would be nice, get the sea air," Amanda added as she stood and walked over to the open French windows to look out across the busy harbour. "But the school wouldn't let me. I am not allowed to stay out overnight."

"They don't need to know," Adam said excitedly as the idea formed further in his mind. "Let them think you are going home, they never check."

The two of them together in the flat? Was that proper? For some reason, she felt a little shiver run through her as she sensed her brother move closer behind her.

"It would be like when we were kids and we stayed in that house on the coast near Savannah wouldn't it?" he continued, staring down at her lustrous, chestnut hair, her bare neck, and arms. With her trim waist and the flare of her hips, he could not help comparing her to Mrs Whitaker and the other women he had made love to. 'None,' he suddenly realised, 'Hold a candle to my sister.'

"Well not quite like when we were kids, Adam." Amanda said quietly, piecing together the implications in her mind. "We were just young then and we shared a bed, didn't we?"

Shared a bed? Adam gulped. The thought of sharing a bed with his sister now haunted his senses. Despite himself, he could not resist moving even closer to her, so close he could smell her perfume.

Amanda heard the floorboards creak and felt the closeness of his presence. She may have been less sexually experienced than her brother, but like most girls she was far more perceptive, more intuitive and more able to understand others than he was. She understood him far more than he did her.

Instantly, a premonition of what could happen overwhelmed her. Nor was it the first time the thought had crossed her mind. After all, over the past year of so the intimacy, the atmosphere and the tension between them had increased enormously. She was aware of what he thought were surreptitious glances at her, especially when she wore low cut dresses or, on the odd occasion at home when he saw her in her underwear when Milly, her maid, helped her dress.

Sexual tension had been building up for some time. In some ways it was curious that now they could go with others without parental interference, their attraction to each other had grown. As they were alone in the apartment, talking about sleeping there together, reminiscing about sleeping in the same bed when they were younger, that attraction grew even more.

They both felt it and were fully aware something was happening between them and that they were moving into uncharted waters. It was something that neither could resist, nor did they wish to change course or stop what was driving them.

As if guided by some magical force, Adam placed his hands on his sister's bare shoulders. She shivered. It felt good, but it was wrong. She knew she should stop him. It was forbidden, it was taboo! He applied a little pressure, turning the contact into a caress. He felt he had lost control of himself and that anything might be possible.

When she didn't resist Adam's heart leaped, just as his erection grew.

"Oh Adam, what are we doing?" she groaned her breath coming in quick, pleasurable gasps.

His hands slid outwards towards her shoulder joints, edging the arms of her silk dress along her shoulders. "I don't know," he whispered. "Shall I stop?"

Amanda didn't reply, and as his hands slid the material round and over the joint of her shoulders, she leaned backwards against him. Only the sound of their heavy breathing filled the room. This was well beyond anything either had experienced and they were powerless to stop the forces overtaking them.

Amanda pushed her back firmly against him as he pushed the dress down her arms, releasing the bodice and easing the material away from her still growing bosom. Pressing himself against his sister, Adam felt his erection plant itself firmly against the folds of the yellow taffeta of the back of her dress.

Amanda sighed. What with the dress, the chemise, petticoat, corset and bloomers, the pressure of his hardness was mitigated, but it was there and she could feel it. She knew her brother was erect! Because of her! The feeling of panic enveloping her was not so much as a result of his actions, but more at the pleasure she was experiencing. If he only knew what she was thinking.

"Oh Adam" she moaned her skin feeling like it was on fire.

"Yes Amanda?" he whispered, his hands now seeming to have just one objective.

Leaning forward, he kissed her neck and felt the shudder run through his sister's body as his hands snaked round her. Dragging the rest of the material away, his hot hands cupped the magnificent swells of his sister's naked breasts feeling her hard nipples burn into his palms.

***

"It's not just the slave issue," Fairfax said, as they dined in his New York apartment.

"What else is it then?" Amanda asked, as she sucked an oyster into her mouth.

"We'll never hold the place in the world we should, unless we embrace free trade."

"Well, why don't we?" Amanda asked, her international trade and economics knowledge on the low side.

"It's you fucking Southerners, you're so against it," he replied, smiling.

"Hey, not all Southerners are like cavemen, you know."

"True, just most are with their ideas and their thinking" he responded, adding. "Like Strand and his cronies. Even now they're starting to refer to it as 'The Confederacy!' It's fucking treason, really."

"Now, now darling, calm down," Amanda cooed. "You'll get blood pressure or the vapours" she went on recalling Strand using that term, Confederacy.

"I think I have already got that," Fairfax responded, his anger building up. "What with the so called Confederacy and the bloody trouble they are causing. They are so against free trade. They want protection, and resist every effort to open trade up. That's what's behind slavery and the secession problems."

"Cheap labour, you mean."

"Exactly! And that is what has mainly caused the run on the banks in the mid-west and is causing the recession."

"Come on, Fairfax," Amanda replied. "Surely it's not just the South causing that, it's in Europe as well."

"Yes that's true, but it started here, my dear. Ohio actually, although Europe is suffering too."

"I know only too well," she sighed, "The amount I have lost both here and in England gives me sleepless nights."

"Ah, poor thing," he smiled. "But then, it is all relevant. Anyway, enough of that. Have you thought more about our last discussion?"

Amanda pulled a face. "I'm not quite sure exactly what you did suggest, other than perhaps sleeping with Strand?"

"I didn't suggest that."

"Well, implied."

"Yes" Fairfax said, beaming that smile at her that had melted many hearts in the past. "But only if it took your fancy and you felt like helping to avert a war or, at least, give the good guys an advantage."

"Fairfax, my love," Amanda said, sipping the chilled white wine and chewing on a lobster, which had been brought down from Massachusetts on the train, packed in ice, by a company Fairfax was funding. "I don't want to sound churlish, but I hear things from you that no one else is talking about."

"You mean you don't believe me?"

"Well not that, but well... you know?"

"You need more corroboration?" Fairfax asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"Well yes, I suppose I do. I mean, after all, you are asking me not only to sleep with someone to get you information, but also to be a spy on my fellow Southerners, aren't you?"

"They are not your fellows Amanda, they are racist, bigoted, insular fools. They are a minority, we think. Most Southerners are decent folk who would agree with the North's views on most things if they were explained to them."

"Yes maybe, but not slavery. There is hardly anyone in the South who oppose it."

"They would if they knew the facts," Fairfax insisted. "That is why we need to find out more about the real Southerners and not just the bigots!"

"That's as maybe, but you still are asking me to sleep with Strand to get information, aren't you?"

Fairfax leaned across and took Amanda's hand in his. "Yes, darling I am and it eats my heart out to ask that. But we are desperate! Look, while you are in town, how about if I arranged for you to meet some people? They can explain and illustrate just what problems we and the country are facing."

"Who did you have in mind?"

"I have a meeting arranged with William Lloyd Garrison tomorrow, why don't we come to your hotel for lunch or tea?"

"Er, Fairfax, if you are asking me to be a spy, do you really think it's a good idea for me to be seen with one of the leading abolitionists in the country?"

"No, true" he responded, thoughtfully stroking his chin.

"My faith, Fairfax, I thought you were supposed to star in military intelligence?"

They both laughed at that, easing the tension that had crept into the conversation.

"Well, there should be no real problem with you, a true southern belle, plantation owner and a fabulously wealthy socialite meeting with Howell, Breckinridge or John Floyd should there?"

"John Breckinridge the Vice President?"

"Yes."

"And Howell Cobb, the Treasury Secretary?"

"The very same," Fairfax nodded. "He is in town for some difficult talks with some English financiers trying to work out something about this bloody recession and, funnily enough, cotton prices."

"Well, I do hope he can stop them sliding, it's killing us. Who is John Floyd?"

"He's my boss, the Secretary for War."

"You move in impressive circles Mister Lennon."

Fairfax looked pleased and taking her hand he leaned forward and kissed it. Looking into her eyes he whispered.

"And they get more impressive by the minute madam. Would you care to meet them?"

"Certainly John Floyd I would."

"Why him but I will arrange it?"

"That would be just dandy......................." Amanda said pausing and beaming a smile at Lennon. "Then I can tell him what an ass his military intelligent expert is can't I?"

"Don't you dare!" Fairfax laughed. "Actually it might not be a good idea to meet Breckinridge."

"Why not? I was rather looking forward to meeting the young man."

"Now, now Missus Williams pray contain yourself."

"I will try sir I promise. Bur why stop me seeing him."

"As you know he does come from Kentucky and we are not at all sure where his loyalties would lie if push comes to shove."

"I see, but if I met him I would get a more er, balanced view wouldn't I?"

"Yes of course and feel free to do so, but if it was arranged by me then your Mister Strand would get to know and he has a very effective network."

"I understand I shall just have to put up with two secretaries then won't I? Quite some threesome" she smiled.

"Look, when do you go to Boston?"

Amanda told him.

"I know Lincoln is going to Boston soon and if the dates work, I will arrange for you to meet with him. Yes?"

"Enchante" Amanda cooed fluttering her eyelashes at the general.

***

Adam had left for Boston before Fairfax was able to arrange the meetings with Howell Cobb or John Floyd. That meant Amanda had to find a reason for remaining in New York longer than planned and did so by explaining to Adam that she had some financial discussions on her English assets.

Fairfax was as good as his word, and over the next few days she met with Cobb and Floyd as well as some less senior, but nevertheless informative government and military figures. Each in different ways told her the same thing. The South was out of control, it was stuck in the past and was holding back the country's economic development. Slavery had to be stopped.

"And" as Floyd had said sternly. "At all costs Missus Williams we all have to do whatever it takes to remedy this situation, for be sure that if they do not toe the line, there will be war."

As she looked into his eyes she couldn't help but wonder whether Fairfax had mentioned about Strand and his request for her to sleep with him to get information for the Union. Throughout each of the meetings with the other men she had similar thoughts asking herself why else would such important and busy men meet with her? It was an unusual and odd set of feelings being with men who might well be imagining her in bed with other men including Strand.

As it turned out, Lincoln could not make it to Boston whilst Amanda was there, and it turned out to be nearly another year before she would meet him.

On her way back from New England, Amanda stopped off in Washington, where Fairfax was also staying. The journey would eventually take her to meet Oliver Strand, a visit she was now dreading. He had been in touch with her by telegraph on several occasions, apologising that he would now not arrive until the seventeenth of July, two days after their previously agreed appointment.

In his flowery writing style, he 'regretted so totally the delay and prayed as deeply as any man could that she would have the patience and graciousness to await his arrival.'

The delay suited Amanda well, giving her more time to spend with Fairfax.

Adam had remained in Boston and was planning on taking a ship down to Savannah where he hoped they would meet up for the short journey to Meldrim. This allowed Amanda some space, as not only was her brother beginning to cramp her style, particularly with Fairfax, he was also becoming more demanding on her.

It left her with a feeling of dread for what had happened all those years ago when they were at boarding school needed to remain in the past.

Fairfax wanted her to stay at his modest sized, but beautifully appointed house in Georgetown, but they both knew how unwise that was. They resolved the problem by arranging for her to stay nearby in a guesthouse owned by a friend of his. For the week she was in Washington, Fairfax had booked the entire house, all six rooms.

"Mrs Cumberworth is a gem and as discreet as can be," he explained as he eased Amanda's breasts out from darke blue dress, before completely undressing her the afternoon she arrived.

Generally Amanda along with most women preferred to retire to their boudoir to undress themselves or have their maids help them rather than their lover or potential lover. It was a complicated, fiddly and lengthy job undressing a Victorian woman and many love affairs had ended before they really got going when the lover made the effort. Lennon, unusually for Victorian gentlemen, had immense patience and thoroughly enjoyed fiddling his way past, hoops, buttons, hooks and eyes, layers of petticoats, chemises and corsets to get to the flesh of his lover. And Amanda loved him doing that to her.

Their lovemaking session that afternoon was wonderful, both frantic and gentle at the same time. Afterwards, he told her that Mrs Cumberworth worked for him.

"Doing what?"

"Just listening to guests, monitoring information, passing things on?"

"What spying?"

"Well, let's call it information gathering?"

Amanda smiled as she gently scratched his flat stomach, her fingers slipping into his thatch of blonde pubic hairs she said smiling. "So does she have to sleep with southerners as well?"

"You've seen Missus C, Mands, I don't think that would glean many secrets. No, she has other methods. The main thing is that she is totally loyal to me and our cause, so no one, and I mean no one, will know I visit you or that we sleep together."

The days she spent with Fairfax were wonderful, with the whirlwind of meetings only matched in pace and intensity by the sex they enjoyed together. With Adam out of the way, and with the discretion of Missus Cumberworth's guesthouse, they were able to sleep together each night she was there. It quickly became clear to both of them that they were falling in love.

***

"You look delicious, my dear," Oliver Strand told Amanda, his eyes homing in on her bosom as he kissed her hand. The carriage he had sent to collect her from the guesthouse to bring her to his office, in Foggy Bottom, just a few blocks from the White House, had only just pulled up outside his door.

Quickly they were able to discuss how she could sell the plantation and get the highest price. Strand had some good ideas as to how to find a way round the new Georgian laws that would prevent people from outside the South buying into the cotton industry.

"Thank you, Oliver" she graciously replied, though her skin crawled at the thought of what may be in store with this toad of a man.

"I have arranged for you to meet a number of my contacts well friends really," he continued, standing up and looking down at her. "They are very important and extremely influential and will be able to help us."

"Us?" Amanda asked looking up at him.

"Well you really, but in this Missus Williams we are as one aren't we?"

"Are we Mister Strand?"

Unused to being questioned, especially by a woman, Strand was somewhat at a loss as to how to respond.

"Well yes we are aren't we? We are partners really" he stammered feeling awkward at not being in control.

'Fuck, what's happening?' he asked himself being unused to not leading and directing meetings, particularly with a woman where, in his experience, her posing such issues was unknown.

Amanda could see where this was going. She was not unused to men trying to manipulate her and she saw that as part of life.

"Yes Mister Strand I suppose we are in a way" she replied smiling.

His smirk as she said that told her what was on his mind as he said quietly for him.

"Anyway, before we meet with them, let's have some tea, shall we?"

She followed him into a small sitting room, set off from the imposing entrance hall. The double fronted, three-storey house acted as both his offices and his home during the week. This allowed the house just outside the capital, where Amanda had visited him previously, to be used for more formal occasions, though she learned later that at weekends, it was the residence for Missus Strand who disliked cities and city life.

The French windows of the delightful, beautifully furnished, surprisingly cool room led out to a walled garden. The aromas of the abundance of large shrubs and summer flowers wafted inside, making the room feel as if it was part of the garden.