A Life Unknown Pt. 03

Story Info
Victoria continues her double life.
8.9k words
4.81
3.1k
7

Part 3 of the 5 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 08/25/2022
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
TheDok
TheDok
281 Followers

Authors note: What follows is a work of fiction based on real-life events. None of the characters depicted are real and any similarity to real people living or dead is purely coincidental.

This is the third part of my series, "A life Unknown." Before reading the series I would recommend reading "Message in a Bottle" first since this sets the background.

This story writes itself and although I know the ending I'm not yet sure how we will get there. There will be at least one more episode.

As always any editing errors are mine and mine alone and I apologise for them in advance.

Please do not criticise the inclusion of an endnote (it has happened). It is provided for context, and you don't have to read it.

I make the usual request. Please rate and comment constructively on this story. Writing a story on this site and receiving no comments is like cooking a meal, having hundreds of people eat it (for free), and then watching them all leave the (large) table silent and expressionless without saying a word.

*

Slack-mouthed, I stared across the room at him and, for a few moments, neither of us spoke. He was the first to break the silence.

"Hello Victoria," He said.,

"Edward..... is it really you? I thought you were dead. Oh, Thank the Lord! Thank the Lord," I cried.

I crossed the room and held him tight in my arms and he put his arms around me and hugged me. He was so thin, and I could feel his ribs, and then as I tightened my grip he started as if in pain. I loosened my grip and stepped back.

"I'm sorry. I hurt you," I said.

"It's nothing," he replied. "I'll mend. Many won't get the chance."

I reached up, held his head between my hands, and kissed him momentarily, but hard, on his lips. Then I looked into his eyes.

"My love. My love. What have they done to you? You look so thin and tired. Don't just stand there. Sit and rest."

Browning the butler had withdrawn after showing Edward into the room, so I rang the bell and shortly he reappeared.

"Please bring our guest some bread, cheese, and cold meats and make us some coffee."

Whilst he went off to fetch the food I sat with Edward and held his hand in my lap.

"I can't believe it's you. Where have you been? How did you find me? Now tell me everything. Absolutely everything."

Edward looked across at me, drew a deep breath, and started to talk.

***

"I joined up in early May 1916 and spent three months in basic training In London before being sent to Northern France. I opted to serve in the ranks and was posted to the London Regiment in Albert in Northern France.

At first, I was "a lousy soldier." I arrived in Albert on the 8 th of August and, the following day, was too close to a Hun shell when it exploded. I was thrown to the ground and when I got to my feet, at first I thought I had not been hit. It was only when I noticed my trousers were wet with blood that I realised I had a piece of shrapnel in my bum. It didn't hurt at the time; only later. A chap I was with called Lowry wasn't so lucky and was blown to bits. And all before he saw a shot fired in anger. What a waste. But then this war has been all about fucking waste.

I was taken by horse-drawn ambulance to a field hospital where the shrapnel was removed from my bum cheek before I returned to the front.

The last letter that I got from you was in September when you told me you planned to return to America. When I had no word from you by the beginning of November, I wrote to Emily in Ripley asking for news of you. This was when I found out I had been mistakenly posted as dead. I wonder whether Lowry and I had been confused with one another and whether this was the cause of the mistake.

I didn't tell you about my injury, which was only a flesh wound, and I told Emily not to tell me you I was alive. You had enough to worry about without worrying about me, and I didn't expect to survive anyway. I wanted you to get on with your life... and you have. I knew you were safe in Boston. Emily told me that you had telegrammed to say you were staying at the Buckminster Hotel."

He paused. You have no idea. I never thought I would come out alive. I believed it was for the best.

"Anyway, I was promoted to corporal and given ten days' leave in March 1917 and returned to London. That was when I met Emily. She told me about George and his damnable threats. She also told me that you did not part on particularly good terms but was able to give me your address here in Newton. Other than that she could give me no news. You don't know how difficult it was for me not to contact you, but I still believed I was a dead man walking. That was when I promised myself I would try to find you if I survived.

I returned to the trenches in Early April and then in June fought in the Battle of Messines following which I was promoted again to sergeant.

In November, my luck finally ran out when we advanced on the Hindenberg Line near Cambrai, and I was wounded by a shell again. That time I wasn't so lucky and suffered a broken leg, broken ribs, a punctured lung, shrapnel in my chest, and a ruptured ear drum. Where I was lucky was that my leg was only broken in one place where I was blown against the side of a tank, and that was how my ribs were cracked. It was the shrapnel that punctured my lung.

Some clever surgeon pulled out the shrapnel and splinted my leg. My lung reinflated on its own. I was in that splint for over six weeks but at least I can walk, even if I have a limp. They demobbed me in the middle of January. I was medically unfit.              

And then I came to find you. I managed to find passage on a merchant ship in a convoy from Liverpool to New York and now here I am. I've been in Boston for the last few weeks, but I didn't think it through. It was only after I arrived in America I started to be scared that you might have moved on with your life."

"I've had a feeling that somebody was watching me," I said. "Was that you?"

"I needed to be sure that you didn't have someone else in your life, and even when I was sure that you didn't, it took me a while to pluck up the courage to come here."

As he said this, Browning reappeared with the food and hot coffee and set it down on a side table, and started to pour out the steaming black liquid.

"Browning," I said, Please meet Lord Edward Cameron, my husband, recently back from the dead." And then. "I'm afraid I'm going to need your further services this evening."

I instructed Browning to send a cab to the downtown hotel where Edward had been staying, collect his belongings, and pay his bill.

"And please draw a hot bath in half an hour."

When Browning had left, I watched Edward hungrily attack the plate of food he had been given and sipped my coffee.

"You've been through hell! I am so happy you're safe. I'm so happy you found me again."

"Now tell me your story," he said.

"Mine is complicated," I said. "More complicated than you can imagine. I'll tell you everything in the morning but for now, just remember you are Lord Edward Cameron."

***

Later we lay together in bed. He smelt of carbolic soap. His hair was freshly washed. I had consigned his clothes to the wash. Only his greatcoat hung in the cupboard.

His naked body was pale and wiry. Any fat that he had had, had been replaced by muscle. Over his right bum cheek there was a ragged pink scar whilst a similar fresher two-inch scar was visible on the right side of his chest. As he lay on his back I ran my fingers along the scar on his chest.

"Your badges of courage," I said.

He smiled sadly. "Not courage. Other men's vanity and stupidity."

"Are you tired my darling?"

"A little," he replied.

"Don't do anything. Just watch."

I knelt beside him so that I could watch his face and took him in my mouth. At first, he was flaccid, but he quickly hardened and soon his penis was long and rigid. I pulled his foreskin up and down with my right hand whilst I held the tip between my lips and licked his penis head and meatus with my tongue.

I was in no hurry. I had not sucked dick for several months, and his dick for almost two years, and I was determined to enjoy it, make it last, and prolong our mutual pleasure. And I did. I slowly took him to the edge and kept him there. When I thought he was close, I stopped, squeezed his tip, and then waited before starting again. Finally when I thought he had suffered long enough, and as he moaned softly, and his eyes pleaded with me for release, I relented. This time, as his shaft started to swell and pulse under my touch, I continued to slowly and gently stroke and suck until he groaned loudly, and my mouth was flooded with white milky cum.

I knelt back on my knees and looked down at him. I remember feeling triumph, elation, and love. Then with semen still dripping from the corner of my mouth I leaned forward and kissed him.

"Welcome home," I said. "Now sleep."

***

He lay beside me sleeping, his chest gently rising and falling. For the first time since his sudden and unexpected arrival just an hour before, I had time to think. Whilst I was inexpressibly happy that he had re-entered my life I realised that it would prompt a rethink in my plans. There was no going back on what I had already put into motion, and Edward could either be my partner or nothing at all. I was still firmly determined never to be dependent on anybody but myself. I resolved to explain everything to him the following day.

Once I had made my decision, a weight fell off me and I started to imagine a bright future once more. As I fell asleep, my last thought was that maybe I was no longer a Jinx and that at least one of the men I loved was still alive.

***

When I woke Edward was lying on his side watching me. l leaned towards him and kissed him full on the lips then pulled back. As I was sleeping, my dreams had been of sex, and now I was ready, and I could feel my thighs wet with juices. Death had followed me for so long, and all I wanted was to feel alive.

"I Love you, Edward.....I truly do, but now I don't want you to make gentle love to me. There'll be time for that later. Just fuck me. Fuck me hard!"

Edward knew me. He knew what I wanted and needed, and on my back and with my legs spread wide he impaled me. There was no foreplay and no need for it. I was soaking wet and wide open... horny beyond belief. He fucked me hard and fast. I was very noisy.

"Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me!"

"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give it to me!"

!I want it! I need it!"

"I love it! L love it! Oh, I love it!"

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"

And I came and just kept coming. My vagina and perineal muscles spasmed and my thighs tightened around him as I desperately clawed his back.

He didn't falter but kept up his thrusting ...... and I just kept coming.... my orgasms coming in waves as I wailed in ecstasy.

"Ohhhhhh fuck! Ohhhhhhhh fuck!"

"Come in me! Come in me!

"Yes! Yes! Yessssss!"

And as a fresh wave of ecstasy hit me and my vaginal muscles tightened around him. his strokes shortened, and he shuddered and ejaculated deep inside of me.

***

The first practical detail to deal with was the matter of Edwards's wardrobe and I asked Browning to arrange for a Boston tailor to call and bring a selection of trousers, shirts, jackets, undergarments, and socks. The tailor and his assistant arrived early that afternoon and we selected several items for the interim period whilst we were waiting for suits, dinner jackets, and the suchlike to be made for him. Then the tailor and his apprentice spent a busy half hour measuring Edward up, before departing with a promise to return in a week.

Earlier in the day, I had told Edward my story. I started with the telegram from George and my plan to kill him but how instead I had found him dead. I told him of the cash and jewels and how I had found George's ledger. Then I explained to him how I had enlisted Hans Baumgartner as a front to sell some of the jewels and invest in Kentucky whisky. I left nothing out. I wanted him to be very clear on what I was going to propose.

"Apart from a little blackmail, I haven't done very much criminal .... YET. But I expect that to change. Prohibition is coming and there will be money to be made. Pots of it. And I intend to make some of it mine. That will almost certainly be illegal.

I have the outline of a plan, but it is my plan, Edward. We've both changed....been changed by all the shit in our lives. I am no longer the person you met on the Lusitania, and back then you were an innocent boy whilst you are now a battle-hardened man. A lot has happened in a few years. I am no longer willing to be beholden to any man and that includes you. My marriage to George taught me that.

If you want to be part of my life, then where business and money are concerned I must be the boss. I will introduce you to Captain Baumgartner as my lieutenant and go between and he will do as you tell him, or rather what I tell you to tell him to do. He must never know we are lovers, and in the same way he doesn't know me as Lady Victoria he will not know you as Sir Edward.

I wish to distance ourselves from what we will be doing. Here in Newton Corner, we will live as Lord and Lady Cameron and in every respect other than business you will be the boss."

I stopped and looked at Edward. I realised that I had been talking virtually nonstop for several minutes and he had not made a sound. I waited for him to speak.

He gave me a long hard look. "You are a truly remarkable woman Victoria. You have just reminded me of why I came looking for you, Do you think that I'm not going to agree with whatever it is you have planned for your, and now my, future."

Then he kissed me "to seal the deal."

"Far better than a handshake," was how he later described it.

***

Two weeks later I held a dinner party to introduce Edward to the local Boston brahmins who were quietly excited to meet him. He had everything going for him. He was a Lord and a war hero who had been wounded on two occasions and then came back from the dead.

Only Arthur's parents did not accept my invitation and made a polite excuse for not attending. I had invited them because it would have been rude not to have done but was quietly relieved when I learned they were not coming. I had told Edward about my relationship with Arthur, but I doubted his parents would have found the evening anything but extremely painful.

At the dinner, Edward did not say much of his experiences preferring to keep his council, but this only added to his mystique and the evening went well. I spared no expense, and the dinner was memorable: caviar, lobster, and fillet steak in a truffle sauce washed down with champagne. By the time our guests were leaving Lord and Lady Cameron were well on their way to becoming accepted members of Boston society.

***

The following morning I spoke to Hans on the telephone and arranged a lunchtime meeting for the following week. I quite deliberately did not tell him that Edward would be accompanying me to the restaurant. I wanted Hans to be quite clear of his place in the pecking order of my fledgling organisation.

Next week, on the train to New York I explained to Edward how important it was that our true identity and relationship stay hidden, He must act confidently around Hans and issue my orders with no room for any discussion. I wanted Hans to respect and if necessary be frightened of him.

We met at Keen's Steal House. Edward and I were deliberately late and kept Hans waiting for five minutes before we joined him at the table where he was sitting waiting. As I approached the table he saw me and stood to greet me, but when he caught sight of Edward walking beside me his eyes narrowed with suspicion. There were only two chairs at the table, so I called a waiter over and asked him to find another chair and we all sat.

Before Hans could say anything I spoke. "Good afternoon Hans. Is everything going as planned?"

"Yes, it Is, Mrs Dawson."

"Good. This is Major Charles Holmes. You can speak freely in front of him. How many barrels do we have stashed?"

"Two hundred."

I did a quick calculation in my head. "At forty-eight gallons per barrel that's nine thousand six hundred gallons at two dollars, twenty-five cents per gallon."

"Twenty thousand, six hundred dollars," said Hans.

"Is it well hidden?"

"Two colleagues and I moved them from the warehouse where they were delivered to a remote barn in the countryside. We did it at night. Nobody saw us and nobody else knows. They've been well paid, and I've promised them more work. They can be trusted."

"Excellent. Now then to business. We need to buy more. I estimate we can double our money overnight once prohibition arrives. From now on Hans, you will deal with me through The Major. He will be my eyes and ears and you will do everything he says. Is that understood?"

I watched Hans look across the table as Edward looked unblinking back until Hans nodded. "Yes, Mrs Dawson."

***

On November the 11th 1918, World War I finished. Nobody knows exactly how many people died or were wounded but it has been estimated there were around forty million casualties on both sides and between fifteen and twenty-two million died. And it was all for nothing.

New York effectively became a dry state at the end of June 1919 and within six months speakeasies were springing up all over the city of New York. Hans and Edward had found buyers for our whisky and as predicted we sold for a significant profit of around fifty thousand dollars.

I wasn't finished. That was just the start and in the New Year of 1920, I set my plan in motion.

I had already decided that there was money to be made on Rum Row. Edward was dispatched to New York with instructions to find a suitable ship for charter and a couple of days later I received a long-distance telephone call. Over a crackly line, I heard the disembodied far-away voice of Edward.

"I've found what we need. It's a steam-powered schooner. The captain says it will carry fifteen thousand cases but he's also the owner and is driving a hard bargain. He wants a cut of the profit. He wanted thirty percent, but he's settled for twenty. What do I tell him?"

"Take the deal. There's plenty for everybody," I replied, without any further thought. "Are his crew trustworthy?"

"He says so. I've spoken to Michael, who will provide me with four guys to make sure they stay honest. We'll need to be armed; handguns and Tommy guns. Michael can find us a Lewis light machine gun to mount on the ship. We'll stow it in New York and fit it at sea on the way to Bermuda. It's better to be safe than sorry. We are going to be carrying a lot of booze worth a lot of money and I want to discourage any pirates from thinking to take it from us."

***

In late February, suitably provisioned, the SS Valley Forge left port bound for Bermuda. Once at sea, it became SS Glasgow, and in Hamilton, it was re-registered in London and was able to fly the Red Ensign. Once in Bermuda, Edward purchased fifteen thousand cases of rum, gin, and scotch whisky and sailed back up the coast to New Jersey where the ship joined Rum Row, a line of ships anchored just outside the United States maritime limit, three miles from the shore.

It was there that they sold their cargo to anybody with a boat that could reach them from the shore. Safe outside the jurisdiction of the coast guard they plied their trade. They may have been safe from the coast guard but safe they were not.

The majority of the folk involved in running booze from Rum Row to the shore were "honest" smugglers but some of them were not. On occasion, armed thugs were known to intercept boats returning to the shore, kill the crew, and steal the cargo. The piracy of entire vessels was not unknown, and mutiny also happened. On one infamous occasion, a crew tied their captain to the anchor and threw him overboard so that they could keep the profits to themselves.

TheDok
TheDok
281 Followers