“Is all well, my pet?” Agnes asked anxiously, whilst a momentarily subdued Edmund proceeded once more to dress, with the same momentary quivers of anxiety as Agnes.
“Oh, indeed,” Pamela smiled sweetly, to their great relief, though little knowing how much she was preparing the ground-or bed-for other maidens to follow. “It is a great honour to receive the sceptre and the- er…”
Sprightly of mind in her recovery of relief, Agnes kissed her salty lips.
“The fount, my dear, for that is what I possess between my thighs, and thus you are fully anointed for what awaits you.”
“Of that I am certain,” replied Pamela faintly, though she knew them to be as big a pair of hypocrites as she was ever likely to encounter. It would be as well not to tell them now who she really was. They must fall into their own trap, and she felt certain that they would.
Sedately as she felt befitted the occasion, Pamela then made her departure, smiling shyly at Edmund all the while and thus nurturing his belief that she was the most perfect of female parishioners. Assuring both that she would tell her “uncle” that she had been treated wisely and well, Pamela made her way back down the path.
There Jack waited for her with the carriage. As Pamela made to enter it, a girl of her own age approached from across the green and nodded to her uncertainly. Walking past, and attired in what Pamela instinctively felt was her best dress-though the fashion was some two years old-she entered the gate.
Pamela seated herself while Jack closed the door. The seat, though padded, was a trifle hard, after her lascivious spell on the bed and her thighs were still sticky with the Vicar's effusion.
“Home, Miss?”
“Oh, yes, Jack, for it will be teatime when we arrive.”
What to tell Lady Bromley, Pamela knew not. For a day or two, at least, she must try to keep out of her way. Then she would merely say that she had given her message and that it had been well received. That would at least be in part true, and neither the Vicar nor his sister would dare deny the truth of it.
Turning her head, Pamela took one last curious glance toward the girl who was now knocking at the door, but then attended to her other thoughts, wondering how Helen had fared with her Papa.
As the carriage rattled on, the door of the vicarage opened. Seconds later, Carrie entered the drawing room where Agnes and Edmund sat, excitedly discussing their latest conquest.
“It's a girl, sir.”
“Oh? Has she come back then? Is something amiss?”
“Indeed it might be, sir, for it is a different one, and she has come-to put up her marriage banns!”
Chapter nine
“You mean to have the girl join the hunt prior to the fancy-dress ball, my love?”
Captain Dancer's brow wrinkled with astonishment as he gazed upon his paramour who lay with him in the summerhouse.
In circles such as theirs, only people of their own social rank rode to hounds and although Pamela was more than a domestic servant, there were many who would gaze askance were she to be invited even to share breakfast with them.
“Indeed I do, Henry,” replied Lady Bromley, “for I mean to have the girl thoroughly debauched, and what better opportunity than when we are out in the field? I have not missed the glances that Dick has cast upon her. Perhaps she is not such an innocent as we think. I intend to bring her firmly into my sphere of influence. Besides, she would make a good go-between, do you not think?”
The Captain chuckled heartily. The pair had surreptitiously enjoyed many such as Pamela, but the fond gaze of Mamas was too frequently cast upon their nubile offspring to protect them from the wiles of the world. To the end of which his inamorata spoke, Pamela would make an excellent foil.
“I understand you well, my love. You mean that she can first engage them in little conversaziones, so to speak, and so gain their confidence?”
“Precisely, Henry, and a little more than that-for she will be seen to be acting as a chaperone, and I shall put it about that she may be used as such.”
“I say, Belinda, what a devilish good idea-a spider in disguise to lead them into the web, what?”
“My goodness, Henry, the very idea has enlivened you even more than I thought it would. Why, what have we here? Why, sir, it is a delightful size already!” cooed Belinda, who sought amidst the quickly unfastened buttons of his trousers.
The Captain's cock veritably glowed already, and Lady Bromley was sufficiently au fait with men to know that it was not solely her own charms which had aroused him, but the thought of what lay ahead.
While Henry endeavoured to hide his confusion by kissing her uncovered breasts and thighs, she would have none of it, for such prizes as he would enjoy through her machinations would be as much hers as his.
“Of whom are you thinking, my pet? Not only of your Belinda, I feel sure. No, Henry, dear, deny it not. Is it not that delightful young thing, Mary Waterhouse?”
Groping her bare bottom with one hand and parting her voluptuous, stockinged thighs with the other, the Captain commenced tickling her deliciously while confessing that it was.-
“The selfsame, my dearest-the youngest daughter of Lady Waterhouse-scarce sixteen, if that, and with such a delightful pair of bubbies, not to say the most inviting of bottoms. Such as she would make my cock rise every half-hour. We have thought of her already, have we not?”
Lady Bromley's hot gaze answered him. Mary was an adorable little thing. Not a fortnight had passed since she had last visited. On that occasion while her Mama was out of the room, the fond Captain had daringly groped her bottom while Belinda waggled a playful finger at him and kissed the girl's rosy lips while imploring her to say nothing of “the naughty man” to Lady Waterhouse.
Mary had agreed with a coy giggle, her fervent curves having slyly appreciated the manly caress of the Captain's palm. It was all her dear Mama's fault, in any event, Mary had decided, for during her Papa's absence, Lady Waterhouse had acceded to Mary receiving a spanking from her uncle. It was true that it was only a little one, but in the interim her Uncle Roger had fondled her bottom much more intimately than a brief session of corporal punishment normally allowed.
Wriggling upon his lap, Mary had distinctly felt the rising of his cock beneath her tummy where her skirt was drawn up. Affecting many a sob and a tear, she had then been hoisted upon his lap in different fashion so that she found her warmed-up bottom cheeks resting upon the tool which throbbed so ardently.
“One little kiss, my dear, and we shall be good friends again, shall we not?” the crafty man had insisted, whereupon Mary had found her lips quite swooningly fastened beneath his own and his hand unfastening her bodice so rapidly that her firm young orbs soon nestled in his palms.
Beginning to enjoy the experience to which the tingling in her lightly smacked bottom added an exciting ingredient, Mary responded by flinging her arms about her uncle's neck while agitating her hemispheres upon his cock.
Precisely at that moment, however, Lady Waterhouse ventured upon the scene in the study. Being a woman of cool mind but hot inner temperament, she could not help but espy what was afoot. However, in order not to disturb her sweet offspring's innocence, as she thought of it, a dismayed Mary was ordered swiftly to her room while Lavender Waterhouse dealt with her brother-in-law. She had long suspected him of such tricks, though curiously this had been the first opportunity to take measure-as it were-of his manly weapon.
It being thoroughly in evidence, she could not help but do so and in her own state of grass widowhood weakened to the blandness of his excuses to such extent that scarce three minutes passed before she herself was laid on the couch and thoroughly rogered by Roger. Both in fact enjoyed the experience so much that rather indiscreetly they decided to renew it.