Androshorts: Lords and the Lady

"I can see why you'd want to do that George," I paused, closed my eyes momentarily but opened them again. All I could envisage was a lonely woman in a black dress, in an empty house. "I think I'd rather not be a widow, especially not a coward's widow."

He smiled a nice, honest gentle but very relieved smile back to me. He relaxed and that seemed to recover the space that had seemed to be between us and he rested a gentle hand on mine. I had shared his bed for over a week and had been held so nicely by him, something his predecessor had never done.

He looked across at me,

"OR I remain as Lieutenant Chalonier MC shortly to be gazetted Captain, the one-handed sniper of Hill 861 and I remain here as your husband. You remain the wife of a hero, I remain alive and we both live in some comfort. The rest? Well, perhaps we can make it up as we go along."

I sipped my tea, this could indeed be the best way out for both of us and with a raised-eyebrow smile I suggested my acquiescence, but a thought struck me, "Are you SURE he's dead?" I said

"If he's still around he'll have one hell of a limp..." I looked at him puzzled.

"Why?"

"His right leg landed in my lap, would know those boots anywhere..."

My most unladylike but cleansing stifled giggle that became a full laugh broke both the silence and the tension. I wiped my eyes,

"George?" I said, "I think that could work, and do call me Katie..."

In a way, I could never have foreseen or predicted the next few weeks passed very pleasantly, more so than any other time in my married life in fact, with me filling in some of the blanks on the life that George would lead based on the last one.

He had head injuries and the entire country knew that some of the poor boys coming back from France had short - and long-term memory problems. I told him about how George had talked to people, how he referred to them, pet names, mannerisms, particularly family and particular things that George would say and do. We worked hard on our presentation while together and I suggested that we call each other 'Darling' as a matter of course and it was quite sweet.

New George had, of course, spent quite a bit of time around my late husband and had picked up almost enough to fool me, and only his physical differences gave him away. We lived together as a couple and I helped him recover with less and less visits from the wonderful Clements. While we were alone I learnt lots more about him and his background and the various people he had worked for over the years and he reminded me of the few times I had met him at my Grandparents county seat, the quiet stable lad that would walk Grandmama's dogs, work their hunting pack and groom the horses. I Remembered the time that I confused him with one of the Chalonier boys in the garden and his father, Mr. Daines the butler, sent him on his way with a clipped ear -- that was the point that he was sent on to my brother's house to learn his trade of gentleman's gentleman, a house that the Chaloniers' wouldn't go to and where his growing likeness to his half-brothers wouldn't be noted or commented on.

His walking improved so much that we were allowed to take his very first walk around St James Park and we came across a few people that I knew taking the air.

"Katherine!" came an overly loud cry, "And George! Darling, how good to see you back and so well!"

I stretched up and hissed into his ear,

"Lady Anna Marchmane and her Sister Mrs. Dorothy Stephens. The famous Ingrams sisters!"

He turned and kissed my cheek and whispered,

"I know," he said, "I've shagged Dorothy."

Our talk was very jolly and mostly about George and when we would both be back visiting again as things were so quiet since all of the boys went away, and the sisters tried to leave me out of the conversation altogether as would have happened with my previously flirtatious husband but George played heavily on his slurred and painful speech and as soon as it became obvious that their old friend George wasn't going to both insult and ignore me the ladies took their leave and let us be.

"What a pair of bitches!" I said as we walked away, hugging his arm and chuckling and George's attempts to hide his smile.

"Oh I don't know, darling," he said, "I've quite a soft spot for Lady Dorothy."

I pecked a kiss on his cheek, just in time for the Mrs. Marchmane to turn around to see it.

"I would have thought quite the opposite Darling," I said hugging his arm tight. This kind of close contact had started initially as a set dressing but I found it quite lovely and I could see that he did as well. Our light mood continued, and we walked to a nearby Tea Room and stopped for lunch.

George was such a pleasant companion; he was funny, warm, intelligent and just nice, something my late husband had never been. He had been almost charming when he courted me but once married I discovered that our nuptials had very little effect on him and he pretty much took up his life where it had left off the day before we got married. He resumed his many evenings out allegedly at his club but I'm sure were opportunities for him to carry on sleeping with the women he had been sleeping with before I legitimised his status in popular society by becoming Mrs. Chalonier.

I wasn't sure if my late husband had shared either of the Ingrams sisters beds but the fact that George had intrigued me, I suppose I was worried that new George might have had the same women that the first George had.

"George," I said stirring my tea, "how many women did you actually... you know..."

"Seven or eight," he said with a smile, a soft smile made crooked by where my husband had shot him in the face, "Some of them I slept with quite often," he soft smile became quite rude, "Now Dorothy Stephens, Just Lady Dorothy Ingrams then of course, aaaah Dorothy..." he stretched out his back and his recovering leg, "Well Dorothy didn't just want to be fucked, she liked to be ridden, she liked nothing more than being on her hands and knees and hanging on to the bed head with me screwing her from behind," my mouth fell open, "liked it even more when I slapped her arse for her, quite brought her on in fact," he swatted his hand in the air, "gave her a good six of the best on several occasions and she was like a bitch in heat."

I fanned my red face with my gloves, such was the effect his talk was having on me.

"Despite what society has to say about it I never had Lady Anna but it was on the cards, she met her new husband just in time," he smiled very matter-of-factly, "I DID have their mother though now I come to think of it."

"What?" I all but screeched, noting a few turning heads at my outburst.

"Aaaah yes, Mrs. Elizabeth Ingrams of the Hestonwood Ingrams!" He leaned back and put his hands behind his head, "She was the very first, screwed her from midnight til three in the morning, in her husband's stables; I was a just seventeen-year-old groom and footman there with your brother's horses and I can assure you no one else had the kind of ride that I did that weekend."

I struggled to hold back my laughter,

"The same weekend that you err... entertained Dorothy?"

"No that was months after; she gave me TWO fivers for that weekend," he looked out and across to the lake then back at me, "I have the funniest feeling that... aah... young Master Magnus, you must have met him, must be nine or ten now; well I have a feeling he could be my son and the very best of luck to him."

"Magnus Ingrams?"

"Yes."

I thought about it and the last time I'd seen the young man at his older sister's Anna's wedding,

"He does look a bit like you," I grinned.

"Happiest day of Ralph Ingram's life apparently, had three daughters one after another and once he thinks he and his wife have hung up their nursery keys for life, a dark-haired boy finally comes along. But your Father-in-law and Mr. Ingrams are first cousins so a bit of family likeness is allowed."

"Darling George," I said, taken with all of this intimate gossip, "You are full of surprises!"

"Allow me to walk you home Darling Katie," he said with that crooked smile that was so growing on me, "and I'll tell you all number of interesting things about some of your lady friends."

We walked back to the house and he told me of his many horizontal adventures, and of his eight women, four of them I could count as friends. Including my old friend Josephine Staithmoor who was so keen to tell me about everyone else that had been serviced by Daines, she had missed herself off of the list, three times in fact.

He talked of the times, dates and places and how he had to make sure he did not ejaculate in his women and pulling out to finish on their naked bellies of bottoms, except for Mrs. Ingrams of course who wouldn't let go of him until he'd finished deep inside her, nine months before her son Magnus was born. I will confess that my poor puss was quite flushed and wet with all of the sex talk and I was minded to have George show me just what a great lover he was but I was conscious that the wound from his knee to his groin, and the matching one from his waist to his shoulder were freshly healed and as Clements had warned too much of that kind of thing might break them open again. We took a hansom back to the house, both happy and laughing like a couple of newlyweds.

The very next day I opened a letter from some very old friends of his family to attend a ball being given in George's honour for his return, his medal and his newly announced Captaincy. The invite to Cypress Court was the first and I was amazed at how well George had fitted in his half-brother's life as well as his clothes.

Having been a manservant in stately homes like this one his whole life he knew what to do, how to talk and even how to dance and the setting was not lost on him.

Again his scarred face and obvious head injuries and my almost breathed and understated pointing-out that 'George's memory is not all it was since the injury' did for all of any other confusion.

He walked with his Blackthorn stick and looked great in his uniform; no he looked great in my dead husband's uniform, better than the real George Chalonier ever looked in it at least. He had broad shoulders and his thick wiry black Chalonier hair was growing back over the angry red gash that ran from his forehead back behind his ear, while the angry red dash on his right cheek was calming and almost healed - since my real husband had tried to kill him!

Lord Charles had been invited as well but was away on military duties, meeting wounded men from his regiment in Hampshire, then a boat across to France to see more of them in hospitals there and in training. He was so pleased with George and my progress that he told me to go to Selfridges and get an entire wardrobe for our first weekend away in such a long time.

I took him up on the offer.

When we entered the ballroom on that Saturday evening, he received a round of applause and we were centre of attention with me every inch the well-dressed society lady to my dashing husband War hero, and to my delight he acted as if I was the only woman in that huge room - the world even - especially as one of my husband's lovers' was dancing and chatting with her much older husband and looking across the room at George with a cross and rather proprietorial stare trying desperately to attract his attention.

She was no stranger to this as she and my husband had flaunted their relationship, before me at the very least, in this very room on many occasions and it had been torture.

But during this ball, new George took my hand and would let no one else dance with me for the whole night and I was even more enchanted than before. The orchestra had stopped playing for a moment and more drinks were served by the army of waiters. I was having such a nice time that even I partook in a few glasses of champagne and will confess myself quite tipsy.

As if she objected to our pleasure in each other's company Mrs. Joselyn, the lover in question, took her chance and stormed across the room to us but still, George only had eyes for me, going along with the gentle and genteel speech that was passing between us.

She reached out angrily and very possessively grabbed his chin turning his face to hers rather than mine with the start of a screeched and attention-grabbing 'George!' to tell the room something rather than her victim.

His loud and angry cry of pain and the heavy and speedy slap of his palm on her wrist and her cry of pain let the room know that the attention was very much unwanted.

"Who the hell!?" he snapped quite like the old George would have done, the pain in his healing flesh and bone very real and I stepped up close to check all was well and to very much stake my claim to him, a gentle hand where her grab had previously been. She may very well have had my late husband, but no way was she having this one!

"George..." she said with some angry angst in her voice and trying to step up equally close, "Georgie C, you know perfectly well who..."

"Madam!" he snapped stepping back, "I may ONCE have known who you are but sadly you have me at a loss; might I suggest you desist grabbing my barely healed face and go back to the red-faced gentleman who is looking at you with some disdain!"

"That gentleman you have known since..." she growled back at him.

"JULIA!" shouted the gentleman, now blanched and storming across to us, "George has been severely wounded and doesn't need your clumsy hands mauling him!"

With hands on hips and pursed lips, she snarled in hesitant rage,

"BUT...!"

"GOOD EVENING MADAM!" her husband snapped.

She turned on her heels and duly dismissed, stomped away to her room.

The elderly gentleman apologised and shook George's hand who, to maintain the moment spoke, hesitantly at first,

"Sir, I'm most terribly sorry for any upset my lack of memory may have caused. I understand that we are old friends, but sadly you have me at a disadvantage." He stared at the man that I knew had been at his predecessor's Christening.

"Sir Robert Joselyn Captain - a very old friend of your fathers, and yes I have known since you were a baby." He sniffed, patting the breast of George's tunic where his medal ribbons shone out, "I'm so terribly proud of you my boy."

Ever the perfect gentleman, George bowed,

"An honour to meet you... again Sir... Sir Robert," he paused, remembering my briefing to him in the train on the way down, "No... Uncle... Bobby... Uncle Bobby!"

"THERE'S OUR GEORGE!" the old man roared slapping him a resounding thump, thankfully on his uninjured shoulder, "Oh I say!" said the old man recovering, "Dear boy!"

"I'm fine Uncle Bobby, just fine!"

"Well done my boy, Well done!" I smiled watching as new George made even more friends among his new family.

"Thank you, Uncle, I must leave now and retire, it's been an awfully long day and I still have some strength to recover, Goodnight sir." He said with a bit of a bow.

Sir Robert bowed back, taking out a vast handkerchief and wiping his eyes with it. We made our excuses to the host and hostess, some more of our acquaintances and retired with George walking me back to our room, which was the point normally that Husband George would make some excuse about playing billiards with Lord Someone-or-other when in fact he was off screwing another party-goer, probably Mrs. Joselyn with her big tits and mature manner.

Not this George, in fact, as we made our way to our room we were followed at some distance by another female party guest, but far from it being someone heading back to their room to collect something it soon became obvious that she was following us!

"Who's that?" whispered George stopping to admire some of the Joselyn portraiture, a rather pleasant hunting scene, very reminiscent of Stubbs. I peaked slightly to my left and saw just the hint of her dark green silk gown edged with white lace.

"That's Poppy Gillingham," I whispered back to him pointing at the excellent brushwork.

"Had I ever... you know?" he giggled.

"I expect so," I giggled back, "she probably thinks that you'll be dropping me off then heading back to the party for someone to screw, leastways that the old George always did while he was here before."

"Well then," said George, "I think it's time we sent her a little message to know that things have changed since George's return from his brush with death," his voice trailed off and he so very gently pulled me into his arms. I slipped my arms around him and he did the same, putting one hand in the small of my back to pull him to me, then the other to my face, he kissed me.

HEAVENS ABOVE!! I had NEVER been kissed like that before in my LIFE, my heart was all aflutter and not with any kind of fear, just a plain ordinary yet fiery lust for this man I'd had a damp crotch for since we sat in St James Park and he told me what he had done to various ladies, especially my good friend Josephine and Dorothy Ingrams, neither of whom I was sure I'd ever be able to look in the eye again!

I felt his tongue push into my mouth then brush against mine and whatever he was doing I did straight back to him, running my hand from around his neck to stroke his cheek and pull him as hard against me as I was against him. I felt extremely lightheaded and had he not stopped our kiss I'm sure I would have fainted!

We broke, and still with his arm around me headed back to our room.

"Do you think that Polly got the message?" he said.

I nodded; whether Polly got the message I really didn't care, I had.

Back at our room, he dismissed the maid saying that he would assist his wife in undressing tonight.

"Seems that everyone wants to sleep with you tonight George," I said, "you must have a sparkle in your eye!" I giggled.

"It's a natural talent, Katie," he said, smiled and gently brushed his fingertips down my cheek.

"What... what do you do... did you do, with your ladies I mean," I said blushing bright red, and feeling the effect of the wine and the champagne we had drunk.

"Did the late George not show you?"

"He took my virginity," I said, "It was quite painful that first night and a bit the second. I was just starting to work out what it was all about when he didn't seem to want to do me... to do it to me I mean."

"How did it make you feel?"

"Nothing really," I said because that was the absolute truth, I'd had so little sex from my husband that I really didn't know what was going on.

"The bastard!" said George closing our bedroom door behind him. Once inside he pulled me close and into his arms and kissed me again - I squealed, it was lovely! "Katie, I'm not quite able to make love to you in the usual way, but I would really rather like to show you what it's all about." He grinned, "Will only cost you a fiver madam..." he said with a grin.

I laughed,

"If two of the other ladies that employed you are anything to go by then it could be a fine investment!" I replied.

He released me and cupped my cheek with his freshly unbandaged hand,

"I'll tell ya what Missus," he said affecting the kind of accent I was only used to hearing below stairs, "Seeing as you're such a special customer like, first one is free."

He lowered his face to mine and kissed me a third time, the best time, and I felt my whole body tremble.

Without a word, he undressed me with a gentleness that could have taught both of my maids a thing or two, but then my maids were never planning to do what he did. Similarly, no man had ever undressed me before, my husband choosing to allow my maid to do it, and complaining about how long it took for her to do so. One night I came back into our bedroom wearing my prettiest French lace to find that the bastard had gone, left not just the room but the house completely, growling at me at dinner the following evening that my tardiness had annoyed him to such an extent that he'd needed to go to his club for a drink and the company of men.