"Blood and Guns" (closed)

Benjamin stood and followed Vance out. If there was trouble he was going to go with him. Johnathan followed. Benjamin gave sign to Maxwell to stay. Someone had to keep watch on the house.

"Peter, come with me. Laurence stay with the women with Maxwell."

They followed Vance out.

Anna finished her meal. Jenny and Lillian stood and left the table, despite Mabel's insistence that they stay. The two women moved to the parlour and stood by a front window. They wanted to see what was going on.

Mabel and Cecily gave up and eventually followed them.

As he watched the other men rising and listened to the concerned conversation taking place between them, Laurence found himself conflicted about his own actions. He wasn't a fighter, let alone a gun fighter. Oh sure, he knew how to use fire arms and was comfortable with handling them. He had a close friend back in Boston who was a member of a Hunting Club and had taken Laurence with him to shooting competitions in the past.

But his father had told him about the problems the Stewarts had been having with rustlers, the most startling fact of which had been that these outlaws had no qualms about killing a rancher to secure even just one steer. It was madness, sheer madness, and Laurence wanted no part of it.

Yet, as he peeked to his right and watched Lillian's reaction to the conversation at the door, he thought he saw ... yes ... admiration in her expression ... admiration for the man in black who had been the only man to come to the lunch table with a weapon slung around his waist. How could he just sit here and let this Vance Hamilton go out and save the day -- maybe save the ranch or even Lillian -- without he himself standing and at least offering to join the fight?

Then Benjamin spoke up and gave Laurence his way out.

"Peter, come with me. Laurence stay with the women with Maxwell."

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"Are you sure I shouldn't join you?" Laurence spoke up, rising quickly and coming around the table toward the men. Inside, his cowardly brain was chanting Please say no, please say no, please tell me to stay, while speaking aloud, "I should have to borrow a weapon, though--"

"No, no, Laurence," Benjamin cut in politely, casting a glance at the women and Maxwell. "Someone should remain behind."

The younger Johnson male nodded his agreement, looking to Lillian with an expression meant to reassure her that he was her one and only protector. He stated with a confident tone, "We -- Max and I -- will watch over the ladies with our lives."

He followed the other men out into and down the hall to a small room in which the ranch's firearms, ammunition, and other weapons were held. He watched the Stewarts sling holsters about their waists, then select rifles or shotguns as well. When Benjamin looked to him, Laurence gestured toward one of the shotguns. The Stewart patriarch handed it and a box of shells to him, nodding to him with pride.

Laurence turned and headed back for the dining hall. He glanced forward and backward, to ensure that neither the men behind him nor the women in front of him could see him before he fiddled with the shotgun's features, trying to figure out how the unfamiliar weapon worked.

Although Laurence had hoped no one would pay him any mind, Vance had certainly seen and detected the man's discomfort with the weapon. He restrained his desire to laugh or even smirk, instead ensuring that the women would be protected by taking a shotgun, Colt Army, and ammunition to Maxwell, who he already knew could handle them sufficiently.

He caught Lillian's eye one last time, giving her a smile before joining the men again. A minute later, Vance was upon Midnight heading for the cottage as the other three men were heading for the stables where some of the other ranch hands -- informed by the first -- were quickly saddling just about every horse available for what they assumed was going to be an armed battle.

"Where did you see them?" Vance asked the ranch hand when he reached the cottage. "What more can you tell me?"

The hand gave over the Henry rifle and a box of big shells, then pointed off toward the shallow, wide portion of the creek that the family called the Crossing, for obvious reasons. They discussed what the young man had seen for a bit before Vance was again on Midnight and heading out across the field to join the others.

"Our goal is to run them off the property, not engage them in a gunfight," Vance said with an air of authority. He made eye contact with Benjamin to ensure that he had the patriarch's approval. Benjamin nodded positively. Vance continued, "If they get away with a few head ... well, that's better than one of us getting killed. Understood?"

The men acknowledged Vance's orders, and as he turned Midnight and headed off toward the Crossing, they fell in close behind him. They were all thinking the same thing about Vance Hamilton: Benjamin had certainly chosen the best man for the job, and -- with or without the help of the others -- Vance would likely take it upon himself to charge into the poachers' midst and slaughter them all to save the ranch.

Ironically, Vance wasn't feeling nearly as confident as the others thought. As they rode across the range toward the suspected rustlers, he couldn't help but peek upward toward the pale blue sky. He could feel the perpetual tingle upon his skin, caused by the light of day. But it was more than the itch that concerned Vance, of course.

Out here in the light of day, Vance was nothing more than a regular, common human.

Out here in the light of day, a bullet to the belly like the one he'd taken a few days earlier would likely kill him dead, just as it would Benjamin or Johnathan or Peter or any of the three ranch hands who were riding with him.

Out here in the light of day, the beating that he'd taken during his fight with four men at The Red Russian would have left him broken and bleeding to death from internal injuries.

Out here in the light of day ... well, Vance was just as vulnerable as any of the others.

They topped the final hillock before reaching the slope that dropped to the Crossing, and down below them was ... nothing. The men slowed their horses to a stop as they surveyed the landscape in all directions. There were two small herds off to the left and right, but no sign of rustlers or the cattle in which they may have taken an interest.

"We should divide up," Benjamin suggested. He looked to Vance, whose expression told him that he wasn't too keen on the idea. Yet Benjamin selected men by name, splitting them into two groups, reminding them of what Vance had warned about a gun fight. "Put some shots into the air if you see them ... then wait for the other group to come to you."

Once settled, the two groups rode down through the shallow waters of the Crossing, then headed off to the east and west to look for the cattle thieves.



"Missus Mabel! Missus Mabel!"

The son of one of the ranch hands came running into the house just half an hour after the men had ridden off. He slid across the polished floor to a stop at the sight of Mabel, pointed out the opened front doors, and announced, "Shots, Missus Mabel!"

Maxwell was the first out the door behind the boy. Laurence watched the reaction of the women, and while he had far less enthusiasm of heading in the direction of gunfire, he also headed out to the porch to see about what the excitement was.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then ... boom...

"That was the Henry," Maxwell said with authority. He looked to the others -- specifically to Jenny who had a specific connection to the new man, then to Lillian, who Maxwell was beginning to think had one -- and reminded them, "Vance was carrying the Henry."

A moment later, all hell broke loose. And it would continue for well over 15 minutes, with the distinct sounds of large and smaller caliber pistols and rifles sounding from two areas that were growing further apart as the men of the Stewart ranch -- despite Vance's instructions -- chased after the divided rustlers as they fled for the estate's boundaries.

"Should we go help them?" Laurence asked at one point, praying to God that the consensus would be no. When Maxwell reminded him that they were left behind to protect the women, Laurence acted disappointed, then stepped a bit closer to Lillian, telling her in almost a whisper, "I'll be right here ... by your side, Lilly."

There was a great deal of conversation amongst the group, including speculation about whether or not one of their loved ones may have been harmed ... or even killed. And regardless of where the discussion went, Maxwell maintained that they needed to stay here, stay inside, and stay safe.



It was nearly five hours later when the boy was again running into the house to call for Mabel. Once again, those in the house were rushing to the front porch. This time, though, instead of finding distant gun fire booming over the land, they found the men returning, their horses single file, walking slowly...

Seven men had ridden away to the fight...

Six were returning, still high in their saddles...

The missing man was draped over the saddle of his horse...

The women stood in the parlour. The tension of the situation was thick in the air. An attack, in the daylight was blatant and aggressive.

Lillian paid no attention to Maxwell, Laurence or the others. She was straining to see anything she could out the window. Memories of that night, here in the parlour pushed forward making her hands tremble. She hid it by knotting them together.
The boy’s cries drew all of their attention. They followed Maxwell to the porch, Jenny at his back and Lillian right behind her.

She nodded slowly at Maxwell’s statement. Vance had fired the shot. She didn’t know if that was good or not. The shots were in the distance and they told her nothing. She heard Laurence’s words but did not really register them. She shook her head absentmindedly and with a hand up to show she wanted space, walked away from him. Her eyes were on the land as she tried desperately to find her uncle, her cousin and Vance.

Mabel and Cecily were in a tizzy. They returned to the parlour for a glass of sherry, to calm the nerves. Jenny clung to her husband and when he moved from the porch, urging them all back inside she stayed close. Lillian was the last to leave the porch only to take up her position at the parlour window once more.

Hours passed. Maxwell urged the women to go and lay down. He told them to stay away from the windows. A check in the kitchen showed the cook and some of the house staff were waiting, prepared to stop any who might try and come in the rear of the house.

Only Lillian remained in the parlour. She would hear nothing of laying down or distracting herself. She wanted to snap at Maxwell, tell him this was her ranch with his father and she would not be shooed away like a child.

The boy came running in causing an uproar in the house. Everyone was up and on the porch once more. This time Lillian was out first and down the stairs as the horses drew close. She could see the body draped over the horse.

“Send for the doctor!” Part of her knew it was futile. The way the man hung over the saddle made it clear he was not of this world.

“Who-” Jenny was trying to figure out who was hurt. Maxwell rushed down the stairs towards the horses.

“Father! Johnathan! Vance!” Maxwell was calling out to them but also for the benefit of those on the porch.

Peter was visible on his horse. It meant that one of the hands who had gone out was dead.

The horses drew closer and it was then that Vance slumped over. Maxwell could see ashen colour of his skin. “Help me get him inside and get that doctor here!”

Together the men worked to get Vance inside. At Lillian’s urging they brought him to her room and she took charge.

“Clean clothes, scissors, water and a glass!”
****
Shock and the urgency of the situation had stopped her aunt from arguing or others from stepping in. Lillian got Vance’s pants cut away from the wound and clean clothes pressed to the gunshot.

She mixed some of the plants she had dried into the water and made him drink it. She hoped it would help with the pain.

The doctor arrived and he set to work. He allowed Lillian to stay though she freely admitted she had no medical experience. He wanted someone level headed and it was clear that the rest were in no state to help.

After forcing the others downstairs he set to work removing the bullet. Lillian stayed by Vance’s side and did whatever the doctor told her.

He worked and when he was done he left the pair to clean up. The doctor went downstairs to the family to explain that now they would have to wait and see how he fared.

In the room Lillian sat on the bed, her hands holding one of Vance’s hands. He looked a shadow of himself.

“Send for the doctor!”

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Benjamin was dismounting from his horse when his niece called out. He was about to tell her that it was too late for Clarence when he caught sight of his night security agent slumping over in the saddled. Vance had said nothing of being injured, and Benjamin had had no idea he was until the man very nearly fell out of his saddle to the ground.

He and the other men rushed to take hold of the man who likely had saved them all from the murderous, blood thirsty rustlers. Maxwell very nearly caught all of the larger man's size, showing great strength himself and calling as he clutched Vance...

“Help me get him inside and get that doctor here!”

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Initially, nearly every person at the ranch house was playing a part in taking care of the shot man, from making him comfortable to assisting Lillian with the initial medical aid to riding off for the doctor. When he finally found himself no longer of use, Benjamin took Johnathan by the arm and led him outside to where Clarence still slumped over his saddle ... with his wife on her knees nearby, clutching her son, and sobbing.

They dealt with the dead hand's body respectfully, taking him to the little one room cabin in which the family had lived for almost a decade. Benjamin told Cora of her husband's bravery that afternoon, of how he had saved lives, and then reassured her that she and her son, Taylor, were welcome to remain on the ranch for as long as they needed. "You'll be cared for, Cora. I promise you."

The doctor arrived and set to work trying to save Vance's life. With the help of Benjamin's niece, Lillian, the doctor set about mending a nicked blood vessel and suturing it and the bullet's entry and exit points, fore and aft of the man thigh. The wound was serious, but the doctor had seen worse in his 30 years as a medical professional. And yet, repairing it proved more difficult than he would have imagined. At times, the injury seemed to be getting worse, not better, almost as if the man's flesh was degrading right before his eyes.

But the pair eventually stemmed the bleeding and repaired the wounds, and after several minutes of simply standing over Vance to ensure he would not relapse, the doctor went to the refreshed bowl of water to wash away the blood that stained him from finger tips to elbows, as well as up and down his front side.

When he was finished, he turned to study not Vance but Lillian. He had met her twice before, when he'd come to the house to oversee Anna's advancing pregnancy; and he'd been impressed with her knowledge of medicinal herbs and traditional remedies. He'd even suggested that once she exit her mourning period, she come talk to him about possibly becoming an assistant and even gaining some advance education and becoming a nurse or even a doctor herself.

But it wasn't her medical professionalism that was piquing the doctor's interest at this moment. It was her obvious concern for the injured man. The doctor had heard of Vance Hamilton, of course. Everyone in the know in Willow Springs had. The doctor had been at The Red Russian the night Vance took on and defeated four men. Despite a deep disapproval for the crime king, Gregor, the doctor had provided medical attention for the defeated men, as well as for some of those injured in the two gun fights that occurred after the fight.

What the doctor knew of Vance Hamilton didn't square with what he knew about Lillian Stewart MacGregor. Oh, he wasn't an ignorant man: he knew that relationships arose between people of different backgrounds and circumstances all the time. But this mysterious and violent gunman and fisticuffs fighter from New Orleans and the mourning widow of good family and standing from Boston...?

"Stay with him, Lillian," the doctor told her once he was cleaned up and changed out of his blood stained smock. "I will go talk to the family."

"How is he?"

The question was asked by more than just one concerned Stewart in more than just one way as the doctor descended the stairs. He politely waved them all quiet and calm, then reported, "He's lost a great deal of blood. Too much in fact. I ... I'm surprised he's still alive. And to be honest..."

"Is he going to die?"

"Shush," Benjamin demanded. He looked to the doctor, asking, "Continue. What can we do?"

"I don't know how he's staying alive," the doctor continued. "He's a strong man, that's for certain. The wound..."

He was going to speak of the injury, of how the flesh almost seemed to be falling apart as he worked on the sutures. But honestly, he couldn't explain it to himself, so how was he going to explain it to them. During his medical training, the doctor had, of course, worked on cadavers; and he had seen how the flesh on them reacted to the scalpel and needle when learning to cut into them or suture them back together. Although it hadn't been exactly that way with Vance, it had reminded him of it for some odd reason.

"Only time will tell," the doctor said rather than explain the unexplainable. "If he survives the night, I believe he will make a full recovery, in time. If he hasn't lost so much blood that his organs fail..."

There was a great deal of emotion in the room, and the doctor didn't like to show his own, so he made his farewells -- explaining that yet another pregnant Willow Springs resident was about to pop -- and asked Benjamin to walk out with him.

"Keep a boy and horse handy for the next couple of days," he told him as the pair headed for the man's coach. "I will leave word with the mortician as to my location--"

"Mortician!" Benjamin barked out in surprise, misunderstanding the doctor's mentioning of the man.

The doctor laughed and waved the eldest Stewart quiet, then clarified, "Mister Bowers and I keep track on one another's whereabouts, should someone come looking for either of us and we not be available. If I am not in my office..."

He saw understanding in Benjamin's relieved face. He loaded up, gave the other man some last minute instructions -- "Pass them to your niece, as I suspect she's not leaving your man's side" -- then snapped the reins gently over his horse's back and headed off toward the ranch's gate.



Benjamin assembled all in the dining hall -- back to the seats they been in earlier, for the most part -- and, himself standing behind his chair, explained how they'd attempted to locate the rustlers by splitting up and circling around their suspected area of operation.

"We assumed they'd used the Crossing and were moving the steers out through Yule Gap," he said, using geographic terms that each of the others knew very well. "Vance had insisted we do not engage for fear that..."

He went silent for a moment. The irony of the man who'd insisted on no gun play being one of the only two injured by shot bullets wasn't lost on Benjamin. He continued, explaining that the reason they hadn't located the men with a small herd was that the men hadn't been here to get cattle.

"They were here to get us," Benjamin said. He looked around to each of the men, who had already discovered this fact and been shocked by it. There had been dispute amongst them as to whether or not rustlers would be so bold. "They'd herded a couple of dozen steers through the Gap ... probably to leave a trail we would follow ... then ... they set an ambush. Vance recognized the ambush and got off the first shot ... he killed a man about to put a bullet into Peter ... but--"

His eyes instantly glazed over as he drew a deep breath and let it out with a huff of despair. "Clarence was hit before most of us even knew what was happening."

The dead man may have seemed only a ranch hand to the casual observer, but those assembled around the table knew that Benjamin treated all of his employers like family. He continued, "Guns erupted all around us. We returned fire, but ... we were ... we were surrounded, and..."

He didn't want to say aloud that most of them had ducked for cover. It had been the smart thing to do, of course, but at the same time -- now, with one dead and another possibly dying -- it seemed so ... cowardly. But there had been far more rustler guns than Stewart guns, and the assassins had been dug in, with most at higher ground.

"Vance saved us all," Benjamin said, his words and body language showing a sudden surge in strength. He could never thank the man dying upstairs in one of the guest rooms. But he'd do what he could, he was already telling himself. Looking about the men in the room, he continued, "We got one or two of them."

He looked directly to his elder son, nodded to him with pride, and said, "Johnathan saved my own life. Thank you, son."

Benjamin scanned the others as he finished, "But Vance ... he showed no fear, riding the full length of the Gap ... twice ... firing the Henry ... his colt--"

Johnathan added, "A man above us ... Vance put a bullet in him from just feet, leaped off his horse to the edge, took his rifle ... and kept on."

Benjamin's lips actually spread in a bit of a smile as he recalled having seen it for himself. It had seemed more than a man could physically do. Of course, if it hadn't been under the light of day and the vampire had had all his strength, Benjamin would have truly seen something he couldn't believe of understand.

He went on, explaining how the fighting ended when the last of the ambushing murderers fled in fear, only to be chased down and killed by Vance.

"Twelve," Peter said with a hushed yet still amazed tone. Eyes shifted to him for the first time, and as he realized the others were looking at him, he clarified, "There had been twelve of them. We killed them all. Vance killed them all."

That wasn't entirely accurate, of course: Johnathan had gotten one, as had Benjamin and one of the other ranch hands; and there had been some injuries amongst the criminals caused by the hail of bullets from the Stewart gang. But true, for the most part, Vance had slaughtered the hoodlums and saved the day.

"Mabel..." Benjamin said softly, looking to his wife, then out the dining hall's window toward the little cabin where Cora and her son were now themselves in mourning. He didn't have to say more to her, instead looking to the other Stewart women. "Will you check on Lillian. Johnathan ... go to town. Get the Sheriff-- No, get the Marshall. Tell him what's happened here."

Benjamin had heard that the Sheriff was in the pocket of that thug who owned The Red Russian, and shortly after the battle -- it would one day come to be known as Ambush at Yule Gap -- Vance had suggested to Benjamin that it was likely Gregor's work.

"I'll take care of it," Vance had promised, even as he was hiding the rapidly bleeding wound in his thigh. "Gregor won't be a problem much longer. I promise you that."



Vance remained unconscious from the time he'd been pulled from his horse to the time the upper curve of the sun fell behind the mountains to the west. His eyes opened slowly, not with the snap they usually did when his day -- others' night -- was about to officially begin.

In an instance, the vampire knew that he was in a critical state. Vance had an intimate knowledge of his body that others couldn't even begin to comprehend. Simply laying there staring at the ceiling, he could have accurately and precisely described the damage to his thigh as well as the work the doctor and Lillian had done to it in an effort to save his life.

Lillian...

Vance tilted his head a bit and found her. Despite his being so close to death, he couldn't help but smile, though weakly at best. She didn't immediately see his return to consciousness, giving Vance a long moment to simply study her. She was so beautiful. Stunning. The light of the lantern to one side and a trio of candles to the other lit her with a glow that would have sent painters rapidly to their brushes and easels.

"Am I dead?" he asked in a whisper so weak that she almost missed it. But when she looked his way, Vance smiled a bit more, adding, "I am ... looking at an ... angel ... so ... I must be dead."

Below her the house was in the grip of concern, fear and anxiety. They had been a target, not the cattle.

Lillian was sitting on the bed. The doctor had said wait and see. His colour was not right. They had talked options but none were available to them. Transfusions were used in big cities, in hospitals. Not here, not in the wilds of western America. Not until a city doctor came to change things.

Wait and see. Lillian wasn't satisfied with that. Nothing in her books gave her any help or comfort. Wounds like this were deadly.

His voice, so soft that at first she missed it and then she thought she was imagining it. She turned to look at him. "Vance!"

Lillian kept her voice low as well but her relief was palpable.

"Easy now. You have lost a lot of blood. If we were anywhere else we might have been able to give you a transfusion but -"

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. "I would give you my blood if I could...the doctor says we must wait, see how your body reacts. He worked on you for a long time. I feared-"

She took his hand. "Do you want water? Food?"

I would give you my blood if I could...

As she continued to speak to him of what she and the doctor had done for him and what the concerns were, all Vance could focus on was those words Lillian had spoken...

I would give you my blood if I could...

Vance was going to die.

Again.

He knew that. He'd feared it going out after the intruders in the light of day. He knew now that he should have convinced the others to put it off until dark, making some claim that the rustlers would be easier to counter when they couldn't see the Stewarts and their accompanying men. But in the dining room earlier in the day, the situation hadn't been understood as being an ambush by Gregor's men, an effort to reclaim his reputation and total control over Willow Springs.

"Do you want water? Food?"

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Vance knew what he wanted ... what he needed.

But he was hesitant ... reluctant to take it. For the only person from whom he could take it ... was Lillian.

He looked back to the ceiling, his eyes glazing over in threatening tears. He shouldn't do this. He couldn't do this. He wouldn't ... do this! Yet, looking back to Lillian and seeing her concern for him ... looking back to the woman who meant so much to him despite having only known one another for less than half a moon ... looking back to the woman who had already told him I would give you my blood if I could...

You'll die, he told himself with confidence. He knew death. He was, from one point of view, already dead. So ... it was something with which he was familiar. You'll die again ... if you don't do this.

Wincing from the pain, Vance turned a bit toward Lillian and whispered to her so low in volume that she couldn't hear. He gestured her closer, repeating his mumble to lure her closer to him. If it had been any other situation -- other than a nearly dead man desperate to speak what might be his final words -- it would have been entirely inappropriate for Lillian to lean in over him in his bed and lend him her ear at a distance of just inches.

But she did.

And when she was close to him, Vance reached a hand up slowly to gently cup her neck and jawline as he whispered to her, "This might hurt."

Before she could react to his words or maybe even wonder what they'd meant, Vance pulled Lillian closer to him and sunk his fangs into the soft flesh surrounding her neck muscles, puncturing her carotid. He pressed his lips hard to her skin, causing a suction that would prevent spillage and, therefore, waste.

To fully heel by morning, Vance would have to drain Lillian of all she had to offer. But, that wasn't going to happen. He would suffice with taking only enough to prevent his own death. It would be a bit more than he'd taken from either of the tavern whores when he'd first arrived at Willow Springs or from the Mexican refugees who, with Benjamin's approval, were to move to the ranch proper tomorrow. And it would be enough to cause Lillian to pass out and sleep more intensely than she probably had during the course of her life. But it wouldn't be enough to harm her beyond a bit of disorientation in the morning.

Even before his fangs had fully sunk into her flesh, Vance had turned on his vampire ability of Dream and flooded Lillian's mind with a command to think of all the happiness she had in her life prior to her mourning period ... and all the happiness she hoped to have in her life following it.

He didn't include thoughts of himself in his command. He was infatuated with Lillian ... in lust with her ... and certain that, given time, he would fall madly in love with her. Vance couldn't -- wouldn't! -- taint that possibility with influence from Dream. If Lillian's thoughts of a happy future included him, it would be because she wanted it that way, not because he did.

Lillian woke, stretching and moving her body a little. There was confusion as she adjusted the blanket.

Blanket? When had she put a blanket on?

A frown appeared as she looked around the room. Vance was sleeping soundly, his colour looking better. She was in a chair. When had she sat in the chair?

Lillian sought her memory. She had been sitting on the bed. Vance had opened his eyes, tried to say something and she had leaned in. Lillian couldn’t recall what he had said. Then she was walking in the field. Flowers in her hand. Vance was leaning on a tree just up ahead.

She groaned. It was a dream. All of it. A pleasant one but a dream. She hung her head a little and pulled the blanket around herself. Lillian was warm but her shoulders and neck a little stiff, a product of sleeping in a chair. She had rested, clearly the sleep deep enough for her to forget sitting in the chair and to dream so vividly.

Lillian lifted her head, looking to the bed. She was pleased to see him sleeping so peacefully. Even more pleased to see colour in his skin. Vance had looked so ashen yesterday. She had feared for his death.

Leaning back in the chair she thought of her dream. Vance, leaning in...to what? Kiss him?

A blush stained her cheeks. She did long for that. For him to hold her against him. A place she felt safe, warm and cared for.

Lillian sought the rest of her dream. The field, an evening walk and Vance waiting for her. She did enjoy their walks. Her subconscious was clearly telling her that she enjoyed Vance’s company but Lillian knew that. What she sought was not solely his presence but the feeling she got from being with him. It reminded her of what she had with Bruce but….more.

Guilt shot through her. How could feel something for Vance that was more than the man she had married?

Lillian licked her lips. She and Bruce had a relationship that made others envious. It had been a connection from the beginning though physically she did not feel as she did when she was close to Vance. Oh, she had been attracted to her husband and he was good to her in bed. It wasn’t that. It was the innate feeling of calm and security she had from Vance. It was a deeper attraction.

Again guilt nagged at her. She knew she shouldn’t feel that way. Women were attracted to men, women sought attention from men who were not their husband’s. Jenny flirted incessantly. Lillian knew it wasn’t that though. It wasn’t just flirting. She could see a life here, at the ranch with Vance. Married? She did not think it necessary though society might see it that way.

Of course, there was the possibility that Vance didn’t desire a relationship with her. There was a chance he wished to get her into bed and would move on after that. There was a chance that he would not stay at the ranch but move on to other places, other jobs and other women.

She shook her head. Why was she even thinking about this? It had been a dream, nothing more and born from exhaustion and heightened emotions.

Lillian stood, laying the blanket on the chair. She moved to the bed, checked his pulse and then ducked out of the room. She found Tilly and asked for tea and something light to eat be brought up for them both.

She returned to the room and began to make herself a little more presentable. Hair brushed and pinned up to keep it from her face for the time being. She would bathe before the party. Lillian frowned. The party. Perhaps it was best she not attend. Her eyes moved to the man in the bed. He would be in need of care.

Lillian washed her face. That was a problem for later. Firstly was tea, food and hoping he opened his eyes soon, like in her dream.

As Lillian's subconscious was speaking to her, so was Vance's. His mind's eye told him of the woman's return to consciousness, of her movement out of and back to the room, or her prissying up at the bowl and mirror.

There was no danger, of course, so there was no need for him to rouse. Yet he did. Daylight or not, he wanted to look upon the beauty with his actual eyes. When she turned and found him staring at her, a slight smile on his lips, Vance gestured her closer with weakly curled fingers.

"You saved my life," he whispered when she was close. It was a true statement, in ways that she couldn't possibly know. "Thank you."

They spoke for a moment about how he was feeling, then there came a knock on the partially opened door. Tilly entered with a tray of food and drink ... and close behind her was Jenny. She was hesitant to enter yet still did; and while she was obviously concerned for Vance, she was also smiling broadly as she told him it was so good to see him alive.

She looked to Lilly, took her by the hand, and asked. "Can I speak to you?"

Out in the hallway, the woman with whom Vance had had sex -- a tryst including her husband, of course -- spoke anxiously about the party that was supposed to occur tonight. The gunfight had changed everything, of course, and the pair talked about whether or not the event should go on as planned, be postponed, or even cancelled.

Vance's hearing was once again at peak, and he heard everything. Jenny wanted Vance to attend -- "I bought him a suit!" she reminded Lillian -- which would mean delaying; but she wanted Lillian to abandon her mourning period, and since the party had been the starting point of her new life, Jenny wanted the party to go on as planned.

"The Johnsons are leaving," Jenny suddenly said. Lillian's reaction told Jenny that this was unknown to her. "Peter and Cecily are meeting with some people about the mine this afternoon, then boarding the twelve-ten back to Tucson to speak to some man about ... I don't know, mining stuff, I don't care! All I care about is having your party--"

She stopped suddenly, glancing past Lillian with an anxious look. She leaned in and whispered, "I mean, I care about Vance, of course ... of him getting better. That's not what I meant."

She pulled Lillian out into the hall out of Vance's view, but he still heard every word exchanged between them. "Mabel says that if we are going to have the party, we have to have it tonight, while her friends are here. Otherwise, we cancel! What are we to do?"

As he listened in, Vance realized that no decision was to be made out there in the hallway just yet. Lillian returned to the bedroom, and when she was back near him again, Vance told Lillian, "You should have your party."

He gave her a moment to respond, then explained himself. "This is your party. This is your ... is it appropriate to call it a coming out party?"

He took hold of her nearest hand and squeezed it. "Have your party. Be with your family ... your friends."

He let his gaze fall to her figure for just a very brief moment before looking back up and telling her with a pleased smile, "Put on your pretty dress ... put up your hair ... be the most stunning woman in the room ... as you are now."

Vance smiled, then laughed. It wasn't hard to be the most stunning woman in a room with no other women present, of course. But, he was sure that his meaning had been understood. He squeezed her hand again, his fingers playing with hers in a way that was a bit more intimate than was appropriate.

"Remember," he said, as he laid his head back and closed his eyes to rest again. Reminding her that her party was the next step in their relationship, he murmured with the smile still on his lips, "You must have your party ... because ... you owe me a kiss..."

It was like deja vu as he called her close. The whispered words, the way she leaned in felt so familiar she would have sworn it wasn't a dream the first time. Lillian was so caught up in him that she was surprised when Tilly arrived.

Jenny followed the girl in and called Lillian away. As her cousin in law spoke Lillian remained silent, pondering the situation over. She was a little surprised to hear the Johnson's were leaving though she was not sad to learn she would not have to put up with Laurence's attempts at her attention any longer.

With word that she would think on it and give an answer soon Lillian returned to the room. She sat on the bed at Vance's side.

He took her hand and it made her smile. She looked up at his face. The colour there relieved her greatly. He had been so fearfully grey yesterday.

Vance's comment made her giggle and blush. Her eyes moved from his face to his hand. His fingers moved along hers in a way that spoke of intimacy. If another man had done that Lillian would have pulled away, chastised him for such behaviour. Not Vance. No, she wanted that intimacy with him. His near death state yesterday had made it very clear in her head what she desired. She only needed to figure out how he saw things.

As he closed his eyes, commenting that she owed him a kiss, Lillian smiled and lightly chuckled. "Yes, I do and I do not leave my debts unpaid."

She placed her hand on his, stilling the movement. "Rest. There is tea and food for you. I will check in on you often."
****
An answer was given. The party would proceed as planned. Jenny was elated. The house was in a tizzy as the house was cleaned, the last touches of the food were done and people were readied.

When the party started Jenny stood ready to greet everyone. Her dress, suited her in the cut and style though the colour, despite being in fashion did little for her complexion. She didn't care as she knew she would one of the only ones dressed in the latest designs. Her hair was done up and she hung on Maxwell's arm.

Upstairs Lillian stood in Anna and Johnathan's room. She had bathed and then dressed there as Vance was resting in her room. Tilly had come to help do up the dress. Her shoulders were bare, her breasts pushed up and waist cinched. The slim woman looked even smaller in the corseted top. The draping material was placed just right.

Anna was staring, a smile on her lips. "You look incredible Lily."

"I feel so...exposed. Are you certain it isn't too much?"

"Oh, Mabel will be shocked but it is extremely tasteful. The rich material..." Anna fingered the velvet.

"I have never worn anything like this. The woman assured me it is a design popular in France but.."

"Stop worrying. You will have every man's eye and every woman's envy tonight." Anna gave her a wink and waddled out of the room. She would attend the party for a time before her pregnant body called for sleep.

Lillian stood, hands clasped for a moment. She had a stop to make before she went down to the party.

Tilly had done her hair in loose curls, pinning some prettily up while the rest danced on her shoulders and down her back. A stray curl tickled her neck as she slowly opened the door to her room.

Lillian peered in before slipping into the room. She gently closed the door and moved to the bed. She wanted to see him, check on him before the party. She wanted him to see her dress, to see her out of the black mourning clothes.

Laurence arrived in a rented coach with his parents, but no sooner had they entered the house than he split off from them ... to search out Lillian. There were far more guests than he'd expected. Benjamin and Mabel had invited friends from Willow Springs and from as far away as Tucson and Phoenix. But the guest list went far beyond that. There were or soon wood be people from just about every industry and profession in or near Willow Springs.

What no one but Mable and a few men in town knew was that Benjamin was looking at a run for Office. He had Mayor of Willow Springs in mind to start, simply to get some name recognition beyond the cattle industry in which he already had a name. But some well placed men in Phoenix liked him for Governor, and they were already talking about him running in the election after next.

So while Laurence had expected to walk into a house with maybe a dozen guests in all, by the end of the night there would be over 50 people in all. He wandered through the mass of people, not recognizing a single face amongst them. Finally, he came across Maxwell, asking the Stewart where he might be able to find Lillian. Maxwell only shrugged and politely sent Laurence off to find one of the other Stewarts. His attention was on a young beauty with whom he'd been chatting, with whom he was trying to lay the groundwork for his first threesome with Jenny and a second female.

Laurence had already wandered through every room on the first floor twice, so he thought he would try upstairs. There weren't many people above the first floor, just a handful of people loitering on the stairs and a few pairs of people on the second floor landing engaged in quiet conversations.

But just as Laurence reached the second floor, he caught sight of Lillian emerging from a room in the most incredible dress upon which he'd ever laid eyes. He froze in place and stared, ogling her from head to foot and back again. He was entranced ... and he was swelling. He'd missed his opportunity to be Lillian's sex partner once, with or without a marriage certificate. And he wasn't about to missed it again.

He was waiting for Lillian to head his direction on her way to the stairs and the crowd below. But instead, she crossed the hallway and entered another room. The caution with which Lillian entered the room left little doubt in Laurence's mind just why she was going in there ... or who was in there with her.



In the room, Vance's eyes opened wide at the sound of the door closing. Subconsciously, he knew it was Lillian, and he knew that she wouldn't be in black this time. He turned his head to look to her and -- like Laurence before him -- found himself immediately entranced. His lips spread in a smile.

"You are the loveliest woman in the world, Lillian," he told her with a deeply sincere tone. He carefully pulled the bedding back to rise from bed, wanting to be upright to look over Lillian. He gave her a turn roundy round gesture with a finger, asking, "May I see it all?"

http://www.asset1.net/tv/pictures/movie/bram-stoker's-dracula-1992/di-Bram-Stokers-Dracula-3.jpg

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******
Lillian didn't want to wake him but she found him awake and now smiling at her. She blushed, eyes lowering to the ground as she attempted to hide her nervousness.

The tone of his voice made warmth spread through her entire body. She raised her eyes as he moved the blankets and gestured for her to turn around. Lillian did so, slowly so he could take the dress in.

"You don't think it is too much...too revealing? I was nervous about purchasing it but I was promised it was a popular design in France."

Lillian had her back to him now and she looked over her shoulder towards the bed. "I have never worn something that was so...I mean a corset, under my dress but..."

She finished her circle and faced Vance once more.

"A new dress for a new life."

Her eyes lowered to her hand. There sat her wedding band. With a slow inhale she reached for it and with a deep exhale she removed it from her finger.

"I know it is what he would have wanted. What I want but I cannot help but be a bit sad or a little guilty." Lillian raised her eyes to Vance. "Am I being foolish feeling that way?"

As her question hung in the air Lillian moved to her dressing table and placed the ring in her jewelry box. She closed it, straightened posture and then moved to the bed.

Carefully she sat on the bed beside Vance. Her eyes were soft, head slightly tilted. Her eyes moved over his face. Lillian was looking him over, checking his colour and for signs of issues or pain. She was also making note of all of his features as if painting him in her mind.

She knew her sadness and guilt about the ring, about ending her mourning would not last forever and that it was sharpest in this moment. It also softened the edges of it knowing that Vance was in her life, that there was potential in that.

The dress showed off Lillian's delicious figure dramatically. As she turned, Vance was imagining all of those delicious curves without the layers of expensive silk and lace. And there was instant movement within the groin area of the pajamas into which the male Stewarts had helped Vance after his wounds had been sewn up.

"You don't think it is too much...too revealing?"

Click to expand...

Vance opened his mouth to speak but caught himself before he made a fool of himself. Lillian's shoulders, upper back, and arms were bared to his view, something that was up and coming fashion statement in some parts of the world yet taboo and unseemly in others. Vance had, of course, been in both such places during his centuries of life; and ironically, he'd been in both such places during changing periods of what the public had declared appropriate for a woman.

"I was nervous about purchasing it but I was promised it was a popular design in France."

Click to expand...

"And when you descend to the party below, and the men and women of Willow Springs ... of Tucson and Phoenix and the whole of Arizona lay eyes upon you," Vance told her, "that dress and other fashions like it will instantly become the new and most popular design in the whole of America."

"I have never worn something that was so...I mean a corset, under my dress but..."

Click to expand...

Vance only smiled to Lillian now, sure that he made a comment on how the dress clung to her curves he was going to get himself in trouble.

"A new dress for a new life."

Click to expand...

"A new dress for a new life," Vance agreed with a smile and a slight bow.

As he watched, Lillian did something that Vance had missed as a possibility. He'd never been married and had never worn a wedding band. So he didn't know how to react as he watched Lillian shed her own gold ring and store it away, commenting on how her deceased husband would have wanted it that way.

"Am I being foolish feeling that way?"

Click to expand...

"No, you are not being foolish, and you shouldn't feel guilty either, Lillian," Vance told her with a soft voice. "Your husband would not have wanted you to be alone. You are correct in believing this."

She crossed to the bed and surprised Vance by sitting next to him. She'd done so earlier, of course, but then it had been in the position of being his care giver ... and dressed in mourning black.

"You are a beautiful, young, intelligent, vibrant young woman, Lillian MacGregor," Vance said softly, using her married name. "Your husband ... Bruce ... loved you because you were those things. You still are those things. Maybe even more so now ... now that you are again Lillian Stewart. Bruce would want Lillian MacGregor to remember him forever, as the man she'd loved every day that they were together. And ... I believe ... Bruce would want Lillian Stewart to find that kind of love again ... with someone for whom she could find such love again."

Vance had been looking into Lillian's eyes as he spoke, ever so slightly leaning in toward her. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted the kiss that had been promised would be coming his way once she was out of that retched black. But he wasn't entirely certain that this moment -- after he'd just spoken so sincerely about her former love -- was the right moment during which to claim that kiss.

Then ... he heard the approaching boots. Fuck...

The knock on the door was light and quickly followed by it opening. Laurence -- who had found a working Tilly and asked whether this room was the gunfighter's -- poked his head into the room to find the pair sitting inappropriately close. With Lillian in her fine dress, Vance in his pajamas, and only a foot or so separating their faces and -- in extension -- their lips, Laurence found it imperative that he step inside and ensure that his competition was stopped before anything untoward happened here.

"Mister Hamilton, you are feeling better it seems," Laurence said, forcing a friendly smile. "I was told you were very near death there for a moment."

Vance also forced a smile, acknowledging, "Yes, I've been told it was touch and go for a bit."

He looked to Lillian again, smiling -- not forced. Without Lillian knowing that it had been her blood that had saved his life, Vance said, "Thankfully, Miss Stewart was here to save me. I owe her my life, I believe."

Laurence did like Vance words at all. The use of Miss Stewart was the gunfighter's way of reminding Lillian that she was now an available, single woman. And the mention of her saving his life and of him owing her was, to Laurence, just Vance's way of saying Pick me, pick me! I'll be your next lover.

"I was told that the doctor saved your life," Laurence said quickly, trying to douse the fire he saw already growing between the pair. He looked to Lillian and, with a slight polite bow of the head, said with an apologetic tone, "Not meaning to dismiss your contribution, of course, Lilly. I ... I would just hate for Mister Hamilton to feel obligation where obligation doesn't exist."

Laurence quickly turned his gaze to Vance, adding, "I mean ... I'm sure that soon enough, a man like yourself ... a gun slinger ... with no ties to the community ... no land or property to keep you bound to one place ... I'm sure that a man such as yourself will want to move onto bigger and better opportunities at some point."

Vance's lips spread slowly in a smile as he listened to the usurper doing his best to paint him as a vagrant, a wanderer soon to run off into the sunset and leave everyone -- including Lillian -- wondering just to where he'd gotten off. He responded politely, "Willow Springs is a nice place. I have no plans of leaving it..."

Turning his eyes to Lillian, Vance smiled a bit wider and finished softly, "...ever."

He was leaning in and Lillian found herself doing the same. It would take so little to complete the distance between them, for their lips to meet. She had promised him a kiss when she was out of her mourning and now, she sat in purple not black.

The knock was light and Lillian wanted to ignore it but the door opened, not waiting for her to call out. She looked back over her shoulder to find Laurence in the door way.

Why he was there or upstairs Lillian was unsure but the forced pleasantries on his part rang clear as a bell. Add to that his comment on the doctor and Lillian found herself slightly annoyed at his presence. He went on to not so subtly suggest that Vance was a less credible man. Lillian suppressed a sigh. He spoke as if she were some doe eyed girl, whose head was turned by every kind thing said her way.

She smiled at Vance. "You would be mistaken at assuming he has no ties here. After everything he has done for this family I would think it solidifies him in the Stewart's circle of trusted friends."

Her head turned her eyes back on Laurence for a moment. "I will be down in a moment. I was just checking to see if there was anything that Vance needed and to check on how he was recovering. While it was the doctor who did the stitching I helped in my way and I was instructed on what to watch for, in terms of infection and the like." It was her turn to offer a strained smile.

She waited until Laurence left to let out the sigh she had been holding in.

"They are leaving tomorrow. The Johnson's that is. He is nice enough but I had no interest before and that has not changed."

Lillian made sure Vance was comfortable, had eaten and had both water and tea before leaving him.

The spell of their moment was broken and she resented Laurence a little for it.
******
Lillian made her way downstairs. She moved through the crowd greeting people. The older women raised their eyebrows a little at her dress but even Mabel commented on the cut of the gown and how it suited her.

There were so many people and many who Lillian did not know. Her uncle introduced her around until her head was swimming with names and faces.

Laurence found her as she got a glass of sherry. She sipped it as he asked her to take walk. Not wishing to be rude and hoping to set things straight with him she agreed. The night air was warm and they stepped out on the porch. The large wrap around veranda was lovely on nights like this and safer than a stroll on the ranches grounds where snakes, coyotes and other things waited.

"I hear you and your parents are leaving tomorrow. I am sorry the trip was short but I hope you enjoyed your time here. It is very different than Boston but it is quite lovely out here in the west."

"They are leaving tomorrow. The Johnson's that is. He is nice enough but I had no interest before and that has not changed."

Click to expand...

Vance was pleased to hear that, of course. Some of what Laurence had said about him was true, either fully or in part. He was a gun slinger, though not in the way most who saw him would believe. Vance didn't like using his Colt against others, and he'd never pulled it unless it had been necessary to save his life or that of someone for whom he cared.

And he had no ties to the community: no land or property to keep him bound to Willow Springs. Vance would have liked to say he had Lillian, that he was bound to this place by her. But ... it was still early in their relationship.

And, of course, there was the whole feeding on blood thing. It wasn't one of those things you explained to a woman as you were telling her why you thought you were the best man to replace her deceased husband as her next love and lover.

Lillian tended to Vance's needs before leaving. Once she was gone, he rose from the bed to walk to the door. He listened for a moment, then cracked the door in time to see Lillian conversing with Jenny before the pair of them descended. He closed the door and -- recalling the first woman to whom he'd given his heart -- thought to himself, You've really done it this time, Nicholas.



On the veranda, Laurence held Lillian's hand in the crook of his elbow as they walked ever so slowly about the house. He could tell from her body language that she was uncomfortable. He didn't care. He was on a quest, and whether Lillian was unsettled with it or not, he was going to convince her that he was the man for her.

They were discussing his parent's involvement in the mine north of town and how it involved so many people in so many places about the country when Lillian said...

"I hear you and your parents are leaving tomorrow. I am sorry the trip was short but I hope you enjoyed your time here. It is very different than Boston but it is quite lovely out here in the west."

Click to expand...

"Oh, you've been misinformed," Laurence said with a light chuckle. He turned Lillian to face him, moving just a bit closer than was appropriate, and told her, "My parents are leaving, yes. But I'm staying behind. I will be overseeing the local business concerning the mine. I have a room at one of the finer hotels in town ... though ... if I thought you could use some more ... refined company ... your aunt and uncle have invited me to take one of the rooms in the ranch house."

Laurence let his gaze moved about the home's exterior as he commented, "It's quaint ... but beautiful in its own way."

When his eyes came back to Lillian, they settled for a moment on her boosted and -- relative to some of the other ladies on the premises -- very overexposed bosom. His lips spread in a hungry smile, then he looked up into Lillian's eyes as he said with a suggestive tone, "Beautiful ... as are you, Lillian ... in so many ways."

Lillian suppressed a reaction at Laurence's comment that he was staying and it was only his parents that were leaving. Even more flustering was the fact that he was considering staying here, at the ranch.

He went on to comment on how quaint it was here. This caused Lillian to stiffen a little. He was standing so close and Lillian moved a step away as if inspecting the house herself.

"I thank you for the compliment Laurence. The dress does a great deal to flatter any woman." She tried to keep some respectful distance between them.

"The company here is quite to my liking though I do hope you will come by often for dinner. I am sure Aunt Mabel would be extremely happy with an open invitation for you. Of course you will have to promise to tell her any news you learn of back east once your mother is gone." Lillian smiled, laughed lightly and stepped away to the railing.

She looked out at the land and took a deep breath. He did not make her ill at ease but niceties were often misunderstood as a willingness for more. Lillian's mind turned as she thought of how best to make him understand her feelings.

"It is strange but now, without Bruce I feel more at home here than I had in Boston. I do miss the ocean but here, here offers a different view of life and I find myself drawn to it. The sky here even seems different."

Lillian tilted her head to look past the porch's roof towards the clear night sky and the stars.
*****
Inside at the party, Jenny was doing her best to flirt even just a little with every man she met. Maxwell was beaming as he escorted her around the rooms and introduced her to all the guests. They both missed the bustling social scene of Boston. Their goal, once Benjamin left the ranch to Maxwell was to have more parties and grow the social scene of the whole town.

Laurence listened to Lillian speaking of Willow Springs as if she truly saw it as her new and permanent home. That was disappointing: he was hoping to get close to her and, subsequently, get Lillian to commit to being his wife in a very short amount of time, after which he would take her back to Boston with him where he would use his father's business connections and her money to build a comfortable life.

As she stepped up to the veranda's railing and looked out upon the estate that -- unknown to him, Lillian had essentially inherited just two days earlier -- Laurence stayed in place, getting a view of the beauties backside. The French cut dress gave her already stunning hour glass figure an even more dramatic look, and within his tailored slacks, Laurence's cock was rapidly swelling to stiffness. Glancing left and right to ensure no eyes were upon him, he reached down to shift his erection to a less noticeable position before walking up behind her.

"It is a beautiful place, yes," Laurence said without a lot of sincerity in his tone. His gaze took a walk over her bare shoulders and arms, and his cock twitched eagerly. He looked about for prying eyes again, and while there were people on the porch, no one seemed to be paying them too much attention. He reached his hands out to Lillian's upper arms as he stepped up almost close enough for their bodies to touch. He tried to reinforce his appreciation for her physical appearance again with, "Beautiful like you, Lilly."

(OOC: FYI, this is my second of two consecutive replies.)

Inside, Maxwell was continuing to mingle with the guests. He had as much interest in his father's distinguished guests as his father did, of course. After all, they were mostly people of power, money, influence, or resources; Maxwell would need connections with such people after he took over the ranch in what he hoped would be the near future.

Despite spending the appropriate amount of time chatting with the men of Willow Springs and beyond, Maxwell's real interest was in the female guests. He was determined to find an appropriate woman with whom he and his wife could enjoy some fun similar to that with which he and Jenny had enjoyed with Vance.

Well, similar in the fact that there would be three of them present, driving one another to ecstasy via likely hot and sweaty, taboo sex. Yet at the same time different in the fact that this time around Maxwell's cock would be the only cock in the room, as opposed to each previous event that had occurred before this.

Maxwell's quest for a second female wasn't at all about his desire to sink his cock deep into the pussy or mouth of a woman other than his wife. Oh, sure, he would surely enjoy such a thing if it was to take place. But it wasn't his pleasure at the hands of another woman after which he was seeking. No, Maxwell only reason for such a pursuit was to watch another woman put her mouth upon his wife's body and drive her to ecstasy with new and previously unknown taboo acts.

Maxwell had seen such a thing before, one woman pleasing another. Sapphic Love, the establishment's hostess had called it. He hadn't told Jenny of this, and he wouldn't. Maxwell feared that she might come to believe he'd gone into such a den of inequity in search of his own pleasure. He had never cheated on Jenny with another woman, and he never would. But for the last year, the thought of seeing her with another woman had nearly driven Maxwell mad at time.

It had happened at the end of the last Stewart cattle drive north, before the railroad through Willow Springs was completed and ready to haul the cattle east and west to market. Maxwell and a few of the hands had gone out drinking and saloon hopping when they'd taken a turn that sent them to and ultimately into a house of taboo as none of them had ever seen. The things taking place within those walls made the whore houses of Willow Springs seem as tame as a Sunday School bible study.

The ranch hands headed off with their recently collected pay to rooms with women who promised them pleasures they would never forget. Maxwell wasn't about to cheat on Jenny, of course, but after he'd struck up a conversation with a hostess who could have talked an angel out of its wings, he found himself forking over a silver dollar for a viewing experience she promised he wouldn't find anywhere else in Arizona.

Maxwell was taken to a room so small that -- from his chair -- he could touch all four walls with his outstretched arms; and so dark that he could barely see his hands before his face. The wall before him had an added feature, a metal grate that almost made Maxwell fear he had been locked into a jail cell. He was seriously beginning to think he'd made a horrible mistake when the wall before him -- the one beyond the grate -- was pulled aside by a woman beyond it...

A naked woman beyond it...

Who was laying on a bed in a tiny room ... with another naked woman!

The two immediately began kissing and caressing one another. They were both beautiful, well rounded women, who beyond that comparison had very little physically in common. One had fiery red hair and skin fairer than Jenny's own, while the other wore tight black curls cut close to her skull and had skin as dark as the night.

As Maxwell watched with wide eyes and an open mouth, their hands groped large, firm breasts ... their lips suckled nipples ... and their bodies twisted and rolled to show their patron every inch of them at one point or another. Their movements soon revealed to Maxwell's scanning eyes that their womanly areas at the meeting of their thighs were shaven as smooth as a baby's butt. Maxwell had heard that some whores in the big cities did such a thing, but -- as he'd never partaken of a prostitute, regardless of city size -- he'd never seen such an incredible thing in his life.

The caressing, groping, and probing led to moans and soft cries that quickly had Maxwell kneading his cock through the fabric of his slacks. His mind was racing with many thoughts, but the foremost one was that he was wishing repeatedly to God Almighty that Jenny was here to watch with him.

The fair skinned women began to kiss her way down the shapely front of her darker skinned lover, who parted her legs around the other's body, knees raised and spread. The first's tongue found the curves of the second's firm, young breast ... toyed with a large, pert nipple that was as black as coal ... then began licking their way down the smooth flesh of the woman who was beginning to moan with more consistency.

Then, to Maxwell's horror, the woman doing the pleasing looked Maxwell's direction and said softly, "One dollar."

He didn't understand immediately, but at the same moment it dawned on him that the woman -- women! -- wanted more money, the one on her hands and knees said, "One dollar. Put it through the wire."

Maxwell hesitated, unsure. This was all so new to him. When the woman didn't see or hear a coin coming her way, she moved slowly toward the grate ... and began to close the door that had revealed to the patron a taboo heaven he'd never before imagined.

"Wait!" a panicking Maxwell said. He quickly fished a silver dollar out of his pocket and slipped it through the wire. It clinked to the floor of the little room. The woman looking his way smile, moved back to where she had been ... and without hesitation, lowered her face to between the other's parted thighs ... and with the angle perfect for Maxwell's viewing pleasure, began eating at the pink folds of flesh that were themselves surrounded by other folds of black.

Maxwell moved closer to the grate, grasping it with one hand to steady himself as the other hand quickly worked to open the front of his trousers and withdraw his throbbing erection. As he watched the black woman writhing to the workings of the white woman's mouth, Maxwell began to moan along with her until -- both too soon and not soon enough -- he grunted loudly to the powerful explosions of his cock as it sent spurt after spurt of his ejaculate out onto the wall and floor before him.

The women were professionals, and they knew the sound of a man experiencing ecstasy. The woman on her back feigned her own orgasm, and after a moment her lover rose from her position and sat on the bed to face the dark adjacent room. She asked the patron if he wanted to come in and join them, but got no answer. Maxwell was lost to his own euphoria ... and thinking of no one but Jenny. The performer asked a second time, and after getting nothing but continuing moans of release from beyond the grill, she reached out and closed it.

Maxwell cleaned himself up with a rag the hostess had offered him without explanation, put himself back together, and -- no longer concerned about the men who had arrived with him -- made his way back to the rented bunkhouse Benjamin Stewart and the others were sleeping in near the stockyard. He never spoke of his experience with anyone, but for the next year the memory was always there in the back of his mind, quickly brought to the forefront anytime his wife spoke to him about arranging another threesome.

Maxwell had just finished speaking with a woman who would turn out to be a certain no go, when he caught sight of another young beauty standing alone near a window. (OOC: Ignore the daylight beyond the window.) As he watched, the blonde looked over her shoulder to Maxwell, smiled, raised a hand to near her bosom, and gestured him to her with a curling finger of invitation.

"My name is Hannah," she told Maxwell after he'd made his way through the crowd to her. She offered her hand, palm down, fingers curled, adding, "Hannah Tyler."

Maxwell took Hannah's hand with a soft touch, lifted it as he himself leaned forward, and softly kissed it. It was an act that had gone out of style in most of the United States by now, except perhaps in the South where traditions died hard. But it was an ... intimate gesture that Maxwell enjoyed and -- he believed -- Hannah had been expecting.

He released his light grip on Hannah's fingers, yet she then increased her hold on his, maintaining their connection. She told him with a softer voice, "I believe you know my brother ... Jacob."

Maxwell didn't immediately make the connection, but when he did his face went white. Hannah laughed at the sight, saying, "Isn't that cute."

Jacob Tyler had been one of Maxwell and Jenny's most recent thirds and the only man with whom they'd entertained three times. He'd gone west recently -- to San Francisco, Maxwell believed -- which had been a disappointment to both he and his wife. The sudden appearance of Jacob's sister was ... unexpected ... and although Maxwell had no idea what was ahead, he was already swelling down below his belt with memories of the fun he and Jenny had had with this beauty's brother.

"Jacob has told me a great deal about you and your wife, Mister Stewart," Hannah told him, finally releasing her grip on his hand. Her eyes were studying Maxwell as intently as a woman ever had. "I was eager to meet the two of you and ... perhaps find a place where we could be alone ... to talk ... and other things."

As Hannah spoke, Maxwell's color returned and his smile widened. He casually glanced about himself to potential eavesdroppers, then quietly asked, "And ... other things ... they might include...?"

Hannah stepped up close to Maxwell without bothering to look for prying eyes. She pressed in so close that her breasts pressed again his chest. With her mouth close to Maxwell's ear, she whispered, "I would like to put my mouth upon your wife's pussy ... and eat on her until her screams wake the dead."

When Hannah pulled back again, Maxwell's eyes were large with shock. It couldn't be this easy ... could it? His cock hurt, now fully enlarged and tilted off awkwardly within his underwear. The Stewart man looked around again for those interested in his private conversation, and finding no one paying the pair any attention offered his crooked arm.

Hannah stepped closer again and suddenly reached out to Maxwell's groin. He flinched in shock at the feel of her hand upon his cock but didn't move in any other way. As she adjusted his position to make it less obvious to the crowd through which there were about to walk, Hannah simply said, "Let me help you with that."

"Why don't we go see if we can find my wife so I can introduce the two of you," a red faced Maxwell said as he turned them both toward the elegant stairway leading to the second floor. As Hannah took his arm -- maintaining an appropriate distance between their bodies -- Maxwell added, "I am very happy to have met you, Miss Tyler ... and ... I am hoping to high heaven that my wife will be as happy as well."

Lillian heard him move up behind her. She expected him to move beside her, to keep a proper, respectful space between them.

When Laurence's hands moved on her upper arms Lillian stiffened slightly. He used the short form of her name. He had known her a long time but to her, in this moment it felt too familiar.

She had two options, turn in his arms to face him or pull away. Pulling away would come across as overly aggressive, even rude. Turning sent the message that she approved of the contact. Lillian was thankful that at least he had not pressed his body into her.

Her eyes moved across the land for a breath before she made a decision. She moved as if turning only to stop and slightly jump.

"Oh!" Lillian moving away a little as she turned, half facing him. She brought a hand to her face. "Silly goose I am. I believe I got a splinter from the railing."

Her eyes were soft and lips pursed as if she disapproved of the railing. "Will you excuse me a moment Laurence?"

Lillian backed away in the direction of the door.
*****
Maxwell had left her for a moment as Jenny went to go powder her nose. She had touched up her hair, fiddled with her dress and was now in the hallway on her way back downstairs. She saw a pair coming up the stairs and immediately stopped in her tracks.

Jenny watched as her husband led a woman, a blonde up the stairs. Jealousy washed over her for a moment but she took a deep breath and waited at the top of the stairs for the pair.

Her eyes were on Maxwell. She would be able to tell from his reaction at seeing her there what his intentions with this woman were.

Maxwell caught the expression on his wife's face as he escorted Hannah up the stairs at his side, her hand inside the crook of his elbow. He'd hoped that her first thought would be Finally, a beautiful woman to make love to me while my husbands watches, waiting for his turn. But reading her face, he got the feeling that she was actually thinking You can't possibly believe that I'm going to let you put your cock inside that whore.

"Jenny, I'd like to introduce you to Hannah Tyler," Maxwell said in his sweetest hubby voice. He figured he had about ten seconds of gentile conversation before his wife politely asked him to step aside for a polite ass chewing. Maxwell's mistake over the years concerning wanting a woman to join the pair in bed was in not stressing that his one and only goal was to see Jenny exploding in ecstasy ... not him. He continued, "Hannah, this is my lovely wife, Jenny Stewart."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Jenny," Hannah said, offering her hand to Jenny. "I've been looking forward to this for a long time."

Maxwell saw the change of expression on his wife's face. He explained with a tone he hoped Jenny would recognize, "Hannah is Jacob Tyler's sister."

He hesitated to let the name come back to her, then added in a lower volume, "Hannah is interested in ... filling her brother's place."

"I know the details of your and Maxwell's ... arrangement, Jenny," Hannah said softly. She turned her shoulder to Jenny and began a slow walk around the woman as she continued. "My brother and I had long conversations about his time with the two of you."

She caught the look of surprise in Maxwell's eyes and added quickly, "Please ... don't be angry with my brother ... or with me. He spoke to no one else but me about this ... and I have spoken with no one either ... no one but you, of course."

By this point Hannah had curled all the way behind Jenny. She laid a hand gently on the dark haired beauty just above her dress's bustle and caressed it across her waist as she continued, "He told me of your time together ... and of its chief goal ... to let your husband see you, Jenny ... in the throes of ecstasy."

Hannah was again within Jenny's sight having nearly entirely circled her. The blonde looked into the other woman's eyes and said with a smile, "I would like to drive you into the throes of ecstasy, Jenny ... if that was something that was of interest to you."

She stopped, now with Jenny to her left and Maxwell to her right. She smiled, then chuckled, finishing, "Or... we can just go downstairs and enjoy your cousin's coming out party ... and forget all about this."




Laurence quickly withdrew his hands from Lillian's arms as she moved in a way that surprised him. She seemed to have lost her balance, and her very well feigned surprise -- as well as her lie about the splinter -- was convincing. Disappointing to Laurence as well, because as she excused herself, she made no indication that she either wanted him to escort her inside nor wait here for him.

"Of course, Lilly," he responded to her request that he excuse her. He stuck to his guns on using her familiar, hoping it would further assure her that he was interested in getting even closer. "I'll look for you again before the evening in over. Go take care of yourself."

As Lilian turned and headed into the house, Laurence drew a deep breath, released it with a disappointing sigh, and murmured to himself, "Well, fuck."




Beyond Lillian's bedroom door, Vance had been listening to the conversation taking place in the hallway with great interest. He was tempted to open the door, wanting to see the expressions on Maxwell and Jenny's faces. And he was even about to do it when he heard Lillian's exclamation outside of the house as clearly as if he'd been standing on the veranda next to Laurence.

Vance moved away from the door to the center of the room, cocking his head in an attempt to follow the sound of Lillian's distinct footsteps through into the house. He smiled as he heard the wanna-be-suitor's disappointed profanity.

Then, he caught sight of the suit Jenny had purchased for him to wear this very night. It had been retrieved from his cottage and delivered to the room earlier in the day. He crossed the room to where it hung in a wardrobe and studied it for a moment. Then ... he set about putting it on.

Vance stepped before the full length mirrors standing in the corner of Lillian's room. He turned a bit to look himself over. He still didn't think it was his color, yet Vance couldn't help but admit that Jenny had made a good call. He stepped out of the bedroom into the hallway, moving slow and a bit stiffly to give the implication that his wounds were still an issue.

Jenny waited. She wanted to watch Maxwell’s face as he tried to explain the situation. She wanted to give him a chance to speak before she shut him down.

The name caused a look of surprise to flash in her eyes. The name ‘Tyler’ brought such fond memories but there was no guarantee that this woman and her memories were connected.
The redhead took the blonde’s offered hand. “A pleasure.”

Jenny looked over the woman trying to understand what she might be thinking.

An eyebrow arched but she remained quiet. Jacob’s sister. Jacob. Jenny smiled, mostly to herself as she thought fondly of the man.

Jenny licked her lips as Hannah moved around her whispering of her interest. Jenny could feel her skin flush, her nipples turn hard under her dress and her sex grow wet.

Facing Hannah, Jenny brushed a stray blonde hair from the woman’s face. She was pretty, appealing and Jenny found herself imagining the body under the dress.

“You will stay as our guest tonight?” Jenny lifted her chin a little, leaning in just slightly. It was so tempting to just lean in and let their lips touch.

It was in that time that the door to Lillian’s room opened and Vance appeared. The erotic spell was broken for the time.

Maxwell crossed to Vance. “Should you be out of bed?” He moved to help Vance walk towards the stairs.

Jenny took Hannah’s hand and pulled her in close, out of the way. “You do look very striking in your suit but I agree with Maxwell. Should you be up and moving about?”

She looked at Hannah. “Vance Hamilton works here at the ranch. He has protected this family on more than one occasion but recently took a bullet. He should be resting…”

It seemed there would be no stopping the gunslinger and so Maxwell helped Vance to the stairs and down.

In the hallway Jenny kept holding Hannah’s hand, keeping her close.
***
Lillian made her way inside and to the back of the house. She ducked into the kitchen. She pressed her back against the wall, a hand on her cheek and one on her stomach.

“Are you okay Miss?”

Lillian looked up and found Tilly, tray in hand and looking her way.

“I am fine. Just overwhelmed by the party.”

Tilly looked Lillian over, nodded once. “Alright miss.” She went off on her way.

It was clear that Laurence didn’t understand she had no interest with him in a romantic way. He had touched her arms and Lillian wondered if the dress had been an open invitation. Perhaps it had been a mistake.

She resolved that she would have to make it clear to Laurence that he was her friend, not a potential husband. She would save him her thoughts on not marrying or at least not for a while yet.

“He is up! Can you believe it? Dressed too!” A servant came into the kitchen her words and tone not hiding her excitement. “Here we thought he was on death-”

“Who is up?” Lillian pushed aside her musings to focus on the woman.

“Mr Vance, Miss Lillian. Mr Maxwell is helping him down the stairs right now.”

Lillian shook her head. “He should not be up…” She moved quickly out the kitchen door. As she got to the bottom of the stairs Maxwell was helping a sharply dressed Vance down.

Her eyes moved over the suit, his body and face. They met his. “What are you doing up? You might open the wound.” Lillian moved forward to the pair to help however she could.

Hannah had seen the scrutinizing expression initially on Jenny's face, but very quickly her eyes and lips told the blonde that the other woman was already imagining the two of them -- oh, three of them -- naked and writhing in ecstasy.

Jenny told Hannah...

“You will stay as our guest tonight?”

Click to expand...

"Thank you, Jenny," Hannah said with a pleased smile. "I'm sure that we will--"

But the vague yet suggestive comment Hannah was going to make was interrupted by Maxwell suddenly walking away, calling to another gentlemen...

“Should you be out of bed?”

Click to expand...

With Jenny holding her close -- as if afraid Hannah and her offered adventure might disappear if allowed to drift too far off -- the blonde watched the married couple fawn over the man who would be introduced to her as Vance. He was tall, dark, and handsome, as the saying went; and although he wasn't currently wearing a firearm, Hannah's impression of him as a man comfortable with a gun was only confirmed when Jenny explained about his recent adventure in collecting a bullet with his body.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mister Hamilton," Hannah said, offering her free hand. "Any friend of the Stewarts I hope to be a friend of mine."

As Vance took and gently shook her hand, Hannah leaned and turned her head a bit to the slightly shorter Jenny's ear and whispered, "When your Mister Hamilton is feeling up to it..."

She didn't finish her suggestion, instead only looking into Jenny's eyes with a knowing smile. Although she'd come to the Stewart home with putting her mouth to Jenny's pussy in mind, Hannah had known there was the possibility that Jenny's husband would be finding pleasure via her own wet, warm places. So ... extending that pleasure to Vance ... well, that didn't seem like to much of a stretch, did it?

"Maxwell, can you help me...?" Vance asked, nodding toward the top of the stairs as he stepped forward with feigned pain. The other man hurried to grasp the gunslinger's elbow, and with the women following -- still attached at the hip, figuratively -- the four of them ascended to the main floor where already people were beginning to look their way.

With his beyond-human hearing and desire to relocate Lillian, Vance thinned out the voices and other sounds of the party until finally he picked out the conversation in the kitchen involving the woman of his interest. An unknown person, likely a servant of the house, was saying...

“Mister Vance, Miss Lillian. Mister Maxwell is helping him down the stairs right now.”

Click to expand...

Vance could hear the disapproval as Lillian followed up with...

“He should not be up…”

Click to expand...

A moment later, just as the two men reached the bottom of the stairs, there she was in all her beauty and glory. Lillian was simply breathtaking, even with her scowl and readied chastising of him for not being upstairs recuperating.

“What are you doing up? You might open the wound.”

Click to expand...

"That would not fair well as a reflection upon my nurse's professionalism, I would think," Vance said with humor as Lillian took his free arm to support him. Vance looked to man at his other side and said with that same humor, "I hope I don't offend you, Maxwell, but I think I'd prefer to have this lovely angel's assistance as opposed to yours."

Maxwell laughed and -- after ensuring that Lillian had the injured man's weight -- slowly released his hold and stepped a bit away. "She does look better on your arm than I did, I will admit."

They laughed together, and Maxwell began to turn away to his wife and Hannah when Vance caught him by the elbow and pulled him closer. In a low whisper, he suggested, "I suspect Lillian won't be letting me leave the house tonight, so..."

He glanced over to the blonde and brunette standing close together like long lost friends reunited, then finished, "...why don't the three of you take my cottage tonight."

Maxwell's eyes widened with surprise. Had Vance heard the conversation in the hall? Or had he simply taken a look at the three of them and assumed -- correctly, as it was -- that they were planning on getting naked and driving one another to heights of euphoria?

Vance turned away from the man after giving him a wink and moved into the crowd with Lillian's help. Benjamin suddenly appeared to ask the same questions about Vance's upright status, then began introducing him to one guest after another. As he spoke of the event out at the crossing and of how Vance had saved so many lives that day, the number of guests gathering around to listen to the tale increased.

Questions flew. Answers were given. Compliments abounded. Vance couldn't recall the last time he'd been such a center of attention. He didn't like it. Not at all. But he smiled and nodded and answered questions with brief answers when necessary. And finally, when he simply couldn't handle it anymore, he feigned a grimace and a bit of a stumble, then turned his head so that only Lillian could hear him and whispered, "Get me out of here, please!"

"Are you okay, Vance?" Benjamin asked, reaching a hand out to steady Vance. Lillian of course showed her own concern, and without hesitation the Stewart Patriarch suggested, "We should take you back upstairs. You need to rest."

Jenny and Maxwell

Jenny stood there, holding Hannah’s hand. They watched as Maxwell helped Vance down the stairs.

Jenny paused at the top. “Yes, Vance is a quite an enthusiastic friend…”

She let the meaning behind her words go unspoken. She waited until the men were further down the stairs before she faced Hannah. “I trust, like your brother you are discreet?”

Jenny was intrigued by this woman, by the proposed activities but it wouldn’t be the first time a person thought to engage with the couple only to try and blackmail or make their life a scandal. Neither Jenny or Maxwell were worried but they were always careful that their partners were on the level and as interested as they were.

The redhead was leaning in, fiddling with the blonde’s collar. She wanted assurance that this woman wanted all she seemed to suggest she did. If Hannah did than they had so much to look forward to.
********
Lillian

Vance’s colour looked good and he showed no sign of extreme pain. He joked with Maxwell. Lillian moved to his side.

Maxwell moved away, joining Jenny and a blonde who were coming down the stairs now.

Lillian help Vance move through the party. She forced him to go slow and take it easy. It did not take long for her uncle to spot them. Neither Vance or Lillian blended easily in this crowd. Benjamin began calling people over or walking the pair to those he wished to introduce them to. Many Lillian had already met and she let her uncle boast about Vance.

She squeezed Vance’s arm in reassurance. When he stumbled she paled and even before his request reached her ears she was moving him back to the stairs.

“I will see to him, uncle. Enjoy the party and your guests. I think it is time for Vance to rest.”

Lillian helped Vance to the bottom of the stairs. Johnathan was on his way down, having just helped a tired Anna to bed, as the pair got there. He helped Vance up the stairs. Lillian followed close behind. Once at the top Johnathan nodded his good night to Vance and headed back to the party.

Lillian helped Vance towards the room and inside.

“Well, you made quite the splash down there.” Her voice was soft and full of amusement. “Let me help you out of the suit..well at least the top half…” A blush stained her cheeks.

Lillian stood in front of him, her hands on his chest as she readied to help him undress. Her chin was lifted, eyes on his face. “You look very handsome Vance.”
****
Johnathan

He went back downstairs and almost ran right into Laurence. The man inquired about Lillian and Johnathan told him that his cousin was helping put the gunslinger back to bed. From the murmurs around them it was clear the gunslinger had made quite the impression on the party goers.

“Yes, Vance is a quite an enthusiastic friend…”

Click to expand...

Hannah smiled at Jenny's vague comment, thinking to herself, You and I are going to get along just fine, Jenny Stewart. We think alike.

Jenny went on...

“I trust, like your brother you are discreet?”

Click to expand...

"Very," Hannah responded, tightening the hand clutching Jenny's just enough to imply sincerity. "I have no intention of gaining the attention of anyone other than you yourself ... and your husband."

Glancing about for eavesdroppers, she said in just above a whisper, "It is my understanding ... based upon what my brother had told me prior to his departure for San Francisco ... that the, um ... true nature of you and your husband's arrangement is, first and foremost, your attainment of pleasure and your husband's pleasure of viewing such."

Hannah's gaze moved to Jenny's lips for a moment, as if ready to lean forward and meet them with her own, right here, right now, regardless of who might be watching. But, of course, that might have gone entirely against her earlier promise of discretion, so she held off and instead looked back into Jenny's eyes.

"I wonder," she continued in a soft voice, once again looking about for empty ears looking for content. "I wonder if your own attainment of such pleasure specifically requires the presence of your husband...?"

The implication was clear: Hannah was very much interested in slipping off to a bit of privacy without the male third of the imminent threesome. Of course, if Jenny rejected the offer, Hannah would show no disappointment. Maxwell's presence in the room -- and even his participation -- were more than welcome to her, though at the same time, irrelevant.




Lillian turned Vance back toward the stairs, taking more of his weight in her hands.

“I will see to him, uncle. Enjoy the party and your guests. I think it is time for Vance to rest.”

Click to expand...

Benjamin watched the pair head away, joined almost immediately by his eldest son. He was a bit concerned that the guests might wonder about the ... intimacy that the physical proximity of his niece to the man might imply. Many of the people here tonight had come to see Benjamin and show their faces to the man who, it was believed, had a future in Arizona's near future; but many -- those closer to the Stewarts -- had also been told that the purpose of the evening was to welcome Lillian MacGregor back to the colorful world of post-mourning.

And if there had been any question about which of the guests had come for which reason, one only had to keep an eye on the single men who'd been so eager to make Lillian's acquaintance once she'd appeared in her magnificent French dress. Although there had been many who had traded greetings with the dark haired beauty or -- if yet to get to her -- at least expressed their interest to Benjamin or Mabel, there had been one in particular who felt that he was the man behind whom the line formed.

"Where is Lillian going?" Laurence asked politely of Johnathan after the older Stewart son had returned to the bottom of the stairs once more. Laurence's eyes had followed Lillian as she escorted the Vance out of sight into the upstairs hallway. After Johnathan actually used the phrase helping put the gunslinger back to bed, Laurence's eyes widened in disapproving shock. "Should Lillian really be in such a position?"

Johnathan stared at the other man for a moment, then laughed. "My cousin is more than capable of taking care of herself."

He tried to turn away to speak to a guest of interest to him, but -- trying to be polite about the contact -- Laurence caught him by the elbow and retained his company as he asked in almost a whisper, "John, please ... will you tell me ... is there anything between the two of them? Lilly and ... and this ranch hand?"

Johnathan studied the man for a moment and suddenly realized Laurence's interest in his cousin. It hadn't dawned on him until this point that the man from Boston might have painted a target on Lillian, which made Johnathan feel a bit naïve seeing how every eligible bachelor in the house was making such efforts to ensure she remembered their names ... and, in some cases, their financial worth or political standings.

Looking up the stairs toward where Lillian and Vance had disappeared, then looking around himself with conspicuous body language -- as if searching for spies -- Johnathan leaned in close to Laurence and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but ... the two of them spent the night together in Lillian's bedroom last evening."

He pulled his head back, gave a suddenly shocked Laurence an exaggerated wink, then -- as he moved past the man to get to better things -- clarified with humor, "Yes ... Vance was passed out in her bed, a heart beat from death ... and Lillian is probably still suffering a crick in the neck from having slept in a chair all night ... on the opposite side of the room.

Johnathan didn't bother looking back at the other man as he disappeared into the crowd, but behind him Laurence's shock was quickly fading to embarrassment. He'd over played his hand and exposed his yearning for Lillian. He looked to the top of the stairs again, gritted his teeth, and stomped off to find a glass and a bottle of whiskey ... or if the former wasn't available, the latter alone would be just fine!

"Well, you made quite the splash down there.”

Click to expand...

Vance laughed at Lillian's observation, feigning pain with a flinch of his chest and grimace in his face. He responded with humor, "Just imagine how much they would have liked me if that bullet had hit a bit higher ... say in my chest, as opposed to my thigh."

“Let me help you out of the suit ... well at least the top half…”

Click to expand...

Vance glanced Lillian's direction just in time to see her face explode in a blush. He smiled but said only, "Thank you. I had a devil's of a time getting into it. I'd contemplating taking my knife to it to get out ... but then, Jenny would have taken a knife to me in kind."

He turned to face Lillian, unbuttoning the buttons on the coat, then on the vest beneath it. She reached her hands out to help him from outer layer of the three piece suit, but rather than simply take hold of the lapels, she put her hands to his chest in preparation to slide the coat from his shoulders.

Vance stared into her eyes for a moment, entranced by her beauty, wanting to say something that might sound romantic without also sounding suggestive. Lillian spoke instead, telling him...

“You look very handsome Vance.”

Click to expand...

"Thank your cousin," he said softly, adding, "She picked the duds."

Then ... he moved up closer to Lillian -- almost to the point of pressing their bodies together -- and reached his hands out to her waist just above her dress's bustle. He whispered to her with obvious desire, "Is it time for that kiss yet?"

Jenny

Her eyes flashed and her lips pulled up into a smile as Hannah squeezed her hand. They were so close. It would be so easy to close the distance between them but it was too public, too open.

But so tempting.

“My husband likes to watch. He likes to witness my enjoyment. Only then does he get truly aroused. My own pleasure is based on my partner but I have never done anything without him viewing it. Sometimes he watches from another room. Are you implying we should start without him?”

An eyebrow arched as Jenny regarded Hannah.
******
Lillian

His hands were on her waist. Their bodies were so close. Her hands remained on his chest, not yet moving to help remove his coat. She stared up at him.

Such a simple question and yet it was not so simple. It had been months since she had been kissed in a romantic way. The last man to do so was her husband.

“Yes.”

It was soft but steady. Lillian wanted more than anything for him to lean down and kiss her. Her chest pushed against her dress as she fought to steady her breathing. They were alone and she was no longer in mourning.

The two women were standing close together, with Maxwell distracted by a gentleman who had approached him with a question about Benjamin. Jenny asked...

“Are you implying we should start without him?”

Click to expand...

"I'm not implying anything," Hannah said softly, her eyes taking in Jenny's womanly features, from her lips to her neck to her bosom and back. She clarified, "I'm suggesting it."

A couple greeted the two as they passed, and when Jenny and Hannah were again able to speak, the latter whispered, "Take me somewhere, Jenny. I want you."




Vance pulled Lillian slowly to him ... until her breasts pressed against his chest ... until he felt her heat through the cloth layers between them. He could feel her heart pounding as he slid his hands from her hips to her back. He could see the anticipation and passion in the dilation of her eyes. He could hear the air rushing through her lungs as her breathing accelerated, deepened.

He leaned his head to her and pressed his lips to hers. It began softly ... but ... Vance' lips parted a bit ... just a bit ... then more ... as the tip of his tongue slipped outward just enough to touch her upper lip...