"Consorting With The Rabble" (closed)

[RobbieRand]

We have decided to do something very much different than this, so if you are only just now coming to read this, don't bother.

"Consorting With The Rabble"

(closed to current writers)​

Corwall, UK
1785:

Robert Wilkins slipped into a long, heavy coat that would protect him from the cold wind and headed out the front of Kerris House, his family's manor. These days, of course, opening and closing the front door was a two hand operation. The door, as with the majority of the century old home, was one good storm away from collapsing.

Until just four months ago, Robert had been away to America for five years. He hadn't wanted to partake of the British response to the rebellion; it had been then and still was today his opinion that England should stop throwing good money away by trying to retain their control over the Colonies. But he'd run afoul of the Crown partaking of an excise-avoiding smuggling operation and had found himself faced with a choice: take a commission as a Captain and go fight the rebels or be hanged by the neck 'til dead. He chose the former, of course.

He'd fought valiantly for a bit more than two years before his life began its downward spiral. It began with a letter informing him of his fiancée's death back in Corwall. He fell into melancholy and, for several months to come, was more often than not to be found drunk in a brothel as opposed to out in the field leading the troops under his command. He was jailed and dried out and returned to duty, just in time for his unit to be ambushed and nearly wiped out by Rebels. Seriously injured, Robert would spend the next year in a prison camp before being gaining his freedom via a prisoner swap.

Robert was put on a boat for England as part of his release, yet upon reaching Bristol he did not head south for Cornwall but instead headed east for London. He just couldn't bear to return home knowing that all that remained there for him was suffering under his overbearing father and his Old World ways.

Little did he know that while he'd been in America, presumed dead by his family and friends, Robert's father had drank himself to death as financial ruin and depression closed in upon him. Kerris House had begun its slow slide into the ruin upon which it found itself today: without pay, the tenant farmers slipped away to other positions on other estates; without equipment, investment, and direction, the copper mines closed, sending their workers off in new directions as well; the house staff dwindled until all that remained were a pair of loafers who tended only to their own needs and not those of the manor.

After running into an old friend and learning of his father's death, Robert had finally come home. He'd very nearly turned around and returned to London, to drink himself to death as seemed the family tradition. But something made him stay. He'd spent the last four months attempting to bring the estate into some sort of control: he'd ejected the loafers from the 2 square mile acre, teardrop shaped island and repaired the outbuildings enough to hold the now mostly feral livestock that had had free rein of the island for years.

But Robert was doing nothing more than living from day to day. Without help, he could never return Kerris House to its former glory, and without money he couldn't hire help. Little did he know that today, an offer than he could not likely refuse was about to be presented to him.

From his bedroom, Robert had spied a boat approaching from the mainland, which lay just 3 miles to the east beyond the Kerris Strait, named for his great-great grandfather who has first settled Kerris Island. Curious as to whom might be paying him a visit and needing to get out of the house anyway, Robert dressed against the cold and began the half mile long walk down the slope to where once upon a time an impressive dock had existed. Sheep, wool, pilchard, and ore had once been shipped from here to markets in Plymouth, while the necessities of life not provided by the island were brought back in those same small sailing vessels.

The boat's occupants secured the sail and extended the oars before reaching the breaking surf, then rowed fast and strong to cause the craft to beach high on the sand on an incoming wave. Quickly, four men leaped out into the retreating surf, and on the next wave they urged the boat further up the shore. The island was currently experiencing an ebb tide, which meant that it was unlikely that the craft would reenter the sea without help from its handlers.

Robert watched as the remainder of the craft's occupants either leaped out or were helped out. Once the boat was empty, he found himself being approached by what could only be called a rabble: they were obviously of the lower class with their old, worn, and sometimes tattered clothing; they sported nothing of value on their bodies; and even their body language spoke of a lack of breeding.

The eldest of the men led the way, smiling to Robert as if he was coming to great an old friend. Behind him were three men who'd exited the boat last, a trio of women which included a stunning, young beauty who was the only one of the mass to be dressed in anything close to new and clean, and the four boat handlers. With the exception of the incredible redheaded woman, they all had the look of tenant farm labor in them.

As he scoured the faces of the others, Robert suddenly realized that he recognized one of the men behind the older leader. It took a moment to place him as once having been a farm hand under his father's instruction. A moment later, Robert recognized yet a second man as once having been a supervisor in the now defunct mine. Robert searched the other faces for familiarity but saw nothing in them. He studied the young beauty again, which was difficult as she held her head down for the most part, only occasionally glancing up Robert's direction as she was aided across the wet, then dry sand toward him. He came to doubt that he knew her, though, admiring her shape of body and perfection of face, he certainly had a desire to know her well if not very well.

"G'day, m'lord, Master Wilkins," the older man said when he was near enough to stop and bow his head with an attempt at formality. "My name is George Reed." He half stepped to his right and half turned to gesture a sweeping hand toward the others. "These are my kin and my friends." He gestured specifically to the young woman, who came forward a couple of steps, her gaze still on the sand though her head had raised enough for Robert to see that she was indeed as beautiful as she'd seemed from farther away. George continued, "And this is my great-niece, Catherine."

The woman performed her best curtsey in the dry sand, peeked up at Robert for only a moment, then looked to the sand once more. Robert responded, "Welcome to Kerris Island, Mister Reed, to you and yours..." Looking to the young woman, Robert specifically picked her out with, "...Miss Catherine." Looking back to the patriarch of the group, Robert asked, "What is it that brings you to my estate, Mister Reed."

"A business proposition, m'lord, one that will benefit all of us assembled here today," George stated with a confidence and forwardness Robert didn't often see from the lower class in such a situation as this. When Robert asked what kind of proposition he was offering, George explained, "You need men and women to work your estate, to bring her back to life and prosperity. We need work."

"I cannot pay you," Robert said without shame. He'd gotten past that stage of his life when the last of his bottles of Port ran out a couple of weeks ago.

"We do not require pay, m'lord," George said. He saw the expression of combined doubt and surprise on Robert's face and smiled. "We require lodging and a fair share of future profits."

Robert couldn't help but laugh at just the concept of Kerris Manor every again providing profits, to him or to anyone else. But George continued, "We do not come to you as beggars, m'lord." He gestured to certain individuals as he continued. "My kin and friends include miners, fishermen, shepherds, swineherds, farmers, and more. And the ladies can cook, clean, and more. They are as hard working as the men and can tend to m'lord's needs."

Robert raised an eyebrow at the way George had put that last bit about the women. Had he meant it the way in which Robert was thinking about Catherine? Robert doubted it. Then, peeking beyond the beautiful redhead, Robert caught the wide smile on the other young woman amongst the group. She was perhaps the same age as Catherine or perhaps even younger, and while she didn't have the better dressed woman's startling beauty, she was most definitely cute and well shaped for a romp between the sheets. And now, following George's comment about tending to m'lord's needs, the young thing was giving Robert a generous and suggestive smile.

Forcing himself to pull his eyes from the other woman's flirtations, Robert looked to Catherine's face and body once more, then looked to her great uncle and said, "What you seem to be offering is far more than what I can ask you to give, simply for room and board and a share of profits that may never appear, Mister Reed."

George peeked to Catherine for an instance, then stepped up close to Robert. Clearing his throat, talking in just barely more than a whisper, the man explained, "I was thinking, m'lord, that perhaps -- if you thought you might have an interest, I mean, m'lord -- that perhaps you might consider taking an interest in my great-niece." George looked back to Catherine again, then turned to Robert again to clarify, "She is a maiden, m'lord, and of age, and if'n you were to marry her and have a child by her..."

George stopped there to let Robert consider and understand at just what he was getting. Robert did understand, of course. In just as low a voice, he responded, "If I was to marry your great-niece and have a child by her, your position and that of your kin would be secured and part of Kerris Manor."

George bowed his head slightly in confirmation. "And you, m'lord, would be guaranteed of a hard working labor force as--" He chuckled a bit, glancing over his people before looking back to Robert to continue, "--as we have no where else to go and would see our future as being one with yours, here on the island."

Robert smiled and shook his head lightly as the preposterous proposition. He was a landed gentleman and was expected to marry within his rank. Catherine and her ilk were most definitely not of that social stratus. But then, Robert had little to offer a woman who would be considered suitable for him. Short of turning over full control of his estate to the father of a suitable woman of class, Robert had no other options. He would become a gentleman in name only, living off a meager allowance from his new wife's father, while that father did what he wanted when he wanted with Robert's former estate and all of its resources.

In the long run, Robert and his family name would cease to exist.

He looked over the rabble once again, catching another flirtatious smile from the young brunette and catching just the quickest of peeks from Catherine, his intended. Robert looked to George and said politely, "Why don't you and yours come up to the manor, and we can discuss this further, out of the wind and chill." He got a nod and thank you from George and turned to lead them up the beach to the cliff walk. "I must apologize in advance that I have little to offer you in the way of dinner or drink--"

Before he could finish, though, George cut him off. "That won't be a problem, m'lord. We brought a feast with us."

Robert looked back, to the boat specifically, and found most of George's kin and friends hurriedly unloading the boat of all forms of packages. Robert saw loaves of bread, vegetables, fruits, a pair of lives chickens in a hand made basket, and more. He looked to George, smiled, and laughed. "Confident man, Mister Reed."

George nodded his most respectable bow yet, and responded, "You have a need, m'lord, as do I and mine."

 

[Alice2015]

During the boat's rocking and rolling transit from the mainland to Kerris Island, Catherine had had to lean over the side to empty her stomach ... twice! It wasn't due to sea sickness, though. It was nervousness from what was about to happen once they reached their destination.

She was going to be given away to Lord Wilkins as bride, bedmate, and birther of his future children, in exchange for the employment of her friends and family upon the noble man's estate. It sounded absolutely outrageous to her. First, she was a peasant girl while Lord Wilkins was a … well, a Lord! Second, she'd never met the man, even as a servant upon his lands or in his home.

Catherine had told her Uncle George that this was nothing more than folly. "He won't take your offer. He won't. He won't want me for a wife. He might not even want me for his bed mate."

But Uncle George had told Catherine not to worry about that last option. "I'm not trading away your purity and reputation as a good girl away for a job that might go away as soon as Robert Wilkins tires of finding his joy within you."

Catherine had found it ironic that her Uncle was willing to give her over to Lord Robert so long as there was a wedding band and a child involved. But then, what were women for other than that?

Arriving at the shore, she caught her first sight of the man ... and suddenly, she felt some relief. No one had been able to give her a certain description of Lord Robert. Those who had tried had only contradicted the others. He'd been described as 25 to 35, not quite ugly to very handsome, physically appealing to likely suffering from his years and depression.

What Catherine saw from the boat as it slid up onto the beach, though, was a man she wouldn't at all mind having lay with her in bed and put a child within her womb. He was tall, dark, and handsome and (even in the short moment that he'd been in her sight) appeared to carry himself with grace and confidence.

After two men helped her out of the boat and to the shore without contacting the waves, Catherine moved up to stand a few feet behind her Uncle. She found it hard to look Robert in the eye, knowing what her future was to be if he found her as appealing as she did him and was as crazy as her own Uncle was. She kept her head down for the most part, peeking up repeatedly for only instances.

She listened to George and Robert chat, then tried to pick up their whispered conversation. She couldn't on the last, though, she knew what her Uncle was telling the Lord.

"Why don't you and yours come up to the manor, and we can discuss this further, out of the wind and chill."

Catherine looked up to see Uncle George peek back to her … and wink knowingly.

"I must apologize in advance that I have little to offer you in the way of dinner or drink--"

Uncle George cut him off, gesturing to those behind him to unload the boat. Catherine looked back to the boat as if willing to help. But her Uncle made a sound with his lips that caught her attention, then waved for her to join him.

"Confident man, Mister Reed," she heard Robert say.

George nodded and responded, "You have a need, m'lord, as do I and mine."

After Robert turned away again, Catherine's uncle took her by the hand and hurried her forward. He called out to Lord Robert, "Please forgive me, m'lord."

When Robert looked back, Uncle George held Catherine's hand out in offering, asking, "Could I be leave of you to help my Niece up the beach, m'lord. I should like to help my kin with the boat, if you please."

Catherine felt her face explode in a fiery blush as she realized she was about to be handed off quite literally to the man her Uncle wanted her to soon be bedding. She forced a nervous smile, curtseyed, and managed to squeak out a simple, "M'lord."

 

[RobbieRand]

Robert turned back at George's request that he help the man's great niece up the path. He watched the young beauty do her best curtsey, then after a moment's hesitation, offered out his elbow with a smile. She came to him and took the offered, crooked arm, and Robert began them up the rise. They proceeded in silence for quite a while, with Robert glancing and smiling cordially several times. She blushed, her fair complexion only revealing it more greatly. Robert found it adorable.

"How old are you, Miss Catherine?" Robert asked with a polite tone when they reached the top of the beach trail and were on more level ground. "And have you lived under your great uncle's care for long?"

Robert listened to what she had to say as they continued onward. He glanced over his shoulder to see how the others were doing, only to find that the others were only just ascending the trail with their cargo. They chatted a bit about the dinner she and the others had brought with them, then about some of the other men and women. He was surprised to learn the vast variety of skills and experiences between them.

"If your great uncle and I can come to an agreement regarding labor and the compensation for it," Robert said, "I feel as though Kerris Manor just may escape falling into the sea with the next great blow."

They spoke some more on the topic, and then at a lull in the conversation, Robert broached the sensitive topic he was sure was filling Catherine's mind, as it was his own. "Your great uncle has indicated that perhaps you might be amenable to being courted, should you meet an appropriate gentleman."

 

[Alice2015]

"How old are you, Miss Catherine?"

For reasons that baffled her, Catherine blushed at the question. Perhaps it was because it was so personal a question. She knew that men like their women young and pure. Was he wondering whether or not she was too old to be thought still a virgin?

"I will turn 20 next month, m'lord," she told him. When he asked if she'd lived under her Uncle's care long, she told him, "Most of my life, m'lord. My parents died when I was young."

When he asked about the others, Catherine very eagerly and excitedly named each of the people following. She told him of their skills, talked about how valuable they would be as laborers, and assured him that he couldn't find a more suitable crew of people to serve him and his estate.

Then he caused Catherine to blush again, telling her, "Your great uncle has indicated that perhaps you might be amenable to being courted, should you meet an appropriate gentleman."

Catherine had absolutely no idea of how to respond to Robert's statement. She remained silent for several paces, then only said, "If I were to meet the appropriate gentleman, m'lord."

She looked back behind her, wishing the others would catch up quickly and help her escape this awkward situation. But the nearest of the kin and friends was only just now reaching the top of the trail, still some 100 yards or more behind them. She looked up to the taller Robert, smiled, then looked to the ground again, feeling yet another blush filling her cheeks.

"You have never married, m'lord," she finally said. It was a statement, not a question, as her Uncle had told Catherine that Robert remained a never married man. "How is it that you have not found an appropriate lady of your own?"

Robert began to speak, but he barely got a word out before Catherine interrupted with a question that had been filling her thinking since her Uncle first conceived of this mad adventure. "Shouldn't a gentleman such as yourself be looking to court a woman of his own class, m'lord?"

 

[RobbieRand]

"I will turn 20 next month, m'lord," Catherine answered regarding her age.

If he were to be asked, Robert would have to admit that he was indeed thinking what Catherine was fearing, that such a beauty from the underclass who had reached such an age couldn't possibly still be a virgin. Oh, it wasn't as if Robert believed all peasant women to be sluts or anything like that. He could name at least three young maidens from the upper classes who had been ruined when it had been learned they had succumbed to the temptations of a man who had not honored their purity. No, Robert's concern about Catherine's class had more to do with his belief that poverty had its way of inducing both males and females to do things they wouldn't normally do in an effort to improved their lives, be it robbery on the highway for the former or letting a man lay between their thighs for the latter.

She went on, regarding her living situation. "Most of my life, m'lord. My parents died when I was young."

"I am sorry to hear that, Miss Catherine," Robert said with a sincere tone. "I, too, lost my mother at a young age, though, likely not as young as had you. My father was lost only recently, as you are certainly aware."

They spoke about the others behind them, and Robert became increasing thrilled at the offer George was presenting. If what Catherine had to say was indeed true, and if a deal could be struck with her great uncle, Robert believed that Kerris Manor and the estate as a whole could very well be on the way to being saved.

Robert had to smile at her response to his inquiry into her courting status. Regarding her meeting the right man, he teased, "Then I will have to keep my eyes out for an appropriate gentleman."

"You have never married, m'lord," she said, turning the attention to Robert's own status. Robert felt his stomach roll at the words. He looked away from Catherine to hide the pain in his face at the memory of his lost love. Catherine continued, "How is it that you have not found an appropriate lady of your own?" A moment of silence passed between them as Robert contemplated an answer. He was about to speak truthfully, but was incidentally cut off when Catherine asked, "Shouldn't a gentleman such as yourself be looking to court a woman of his own class, m'lord?"

To this, Robert showed no hesitation; he laughed. "I have no class, my dear." He contemplated how to explain what he felt about the upper classes. "The gentry has its purposes, Miss Catherine. And the gentry has its worth, and by worth, I do not mean the stacks of coin in their treasuries or the valuable property and resources upon said property, which they exploit to their fullest as you very well know via the back breaking labor of their poorly compensated tenants and laborers."

He took a moment to pat the dirty, hairy, but sweet dog that had caught sight of his and Catherine's approach and had come running their way, only now meeting them on the path. Continuing on about the class from which he'd come, Robert continued, "But it also has its failings and faults, many of which I assume you are already aware. Those failings and faults are a part of what sometimes makes me ashamed to be a member of that class."

After a few steps more, Robert realized that he had avoided, whether intentionally or not, the question Catherine had asked. "As far as courting an appropriate female from my class." He hesitated, then looked down to Catherine, waited for her to make eye contact with him, and said with a somewhat suggestive tone, "Perhaps it might be better for me, better for my future, for my estate's future, if I were to look outside that dreaded gentry."

Robert studied Catherine's reaction, then looked to the house before them...

"The great Kerris Manor," Robert announced with feigned pride. "It may not look like much, but that's only because it isn't much. But, it keeps the rain off my head, when it isn't raining that is."

He opened the rickety old gate, fighting against a wayward root that had grown into the trail. Passing through, they entered the packed dirt yard in which a half dozen chickens and a pair of goats ran freely. "My vast array of stock animals." One of the goat kids threatened to butt him in the backside, then bounded off playfully, followed by the other. "I would have eaten them all by now if I could only catch them."

As he led Catherine toward the home's entrance, he spoke of how he'd done some repairs on the home but was yet to get to the outbuildings. In truth, he'd had 4 months to make repairs, and even on his own Robert should have accomplished a great deal more than he had. Ironically, he'd completed a great deal more since he'd run out of booze.

Robert led Catherine inside and led her about for a short tour. The manor wasn't much when compared to the main houses of other estates on the mainland. Robert's male ancestors had consistently been second or third sons, so none had ever faired well when it came to inheriting their respective father's properties and homes. Kerris house was a tenth the size of his closest relative's home just across the strait and partially visible from the island on a clear day. But it was what Robert had and it was all he would ever have, so, it was good enough for him.

The first floor included the various rooms one would expect to see, including the greeting room, Robert's library, a guest room, two servants quarters, and all the rooms required for cooking, dining, and other domestic tasks. Robert only briefly described the second floor as having the master bedroom, a second bedroom, and the nursery.

By now, the first of George's kin and friends were arriving. George tasked the three women and two of the men to preparing the kitchen for a meal and then the meal for eating. Robert wondered which would take longer, making the kitchen suitable for use or actually using it; in his four months of residency here, he had only used the cast iron stove's surface to fry or boil, and the rest of the kitchen and its resources had essentially gone ignored.

Robert and George hadn't yet finalized a deal, and yet the latter put the other males to work without delay. They chopped and gathered fire wood; they ran down the feral animals and put them inside the appropriate pens, which they also repaired as needed; they pulled weeds and cut ivy that had ventured into the home and, in some cases, prevented windows or doors from closing properly; and with an also quickly repaired ladder, they continued Robert's earlier roof repairs to fill in the spots that would obviously leak when the next rain arrived.

Robert was most impressed, and by the time the ladies announced that dinner would soon be ready, he was ready himself to strike a bargain. "There are four tenant homes on the property. Your kin can occupy them at your discretion. The house needs a cook, and a maid, and a man as well. There are servant quarters in the house, and a small outbuilding that once was used as a residence."

George explained a bit more about the relationships between his people and how that would affect who lived where. Regarding the older of the three women, who was currently running the operation in the kitchen, George explained, "Gwyneth and Harold are married, and they would like to live as one, though, I know that in most noble homes, married servants are often--"

Robert interrupted him, stating firmly, "I will not separate the married, Mister Reed."

"George, m'lord," the man corrected respectfully, bowing his head slightly. "If that be fine with you."

"George, then," Robert agreed, even giving his own bit of a head bow and a smile. "Gwyneth, yes...? She and her husband may live as one, but, I would prefer that not be under my roof. Would they be happy in the outbuilding once it has been repaired and made livable?"

"They'll be happy in it before it is repaired, and made livable, m'lord," George said, chuckling. As they spoke more about living situations, George surprised Robert by speaking of others who those present would like to see come live here. "There are children, m'lord. And other spouses and loved ones."

"How many?" Robert inquired with obvious concern. "I already fear that I may not be able to feed all of you." He nodded toward the kitchen and continued, "That dinner, two goats, and a handful of chickens will not keep us all alive long."

George only laughed, reassuring Robert, "We will feed ourselves well should you give us freedom to fish your waters and work your land, m'lord."

They talked more about the possibilities and about the other people involved. But the one name that was avoided, whether intentionally or not, was that of the woman both men presumed would soon be sharing Robert's bed. When a lull in the conversation had come upon them, Robert asked with a hesitant tone, "And what of your great niece, Catherine? Where shall she lay her head down at night, Mister Reed?"

"She is meant to serve you, m'lord, as your house keeper and an assistant in the kitchen," George began, hesitating before adding pointedly, "Until another relationship between her and m'lord comes to be. Perhaps one of the servant's quarters." He finished with a slightly suggestive tone, "Such that she will be close at hand when you need her, m'lord."

Robert scrutinized George's explanation for a long moment. George was very clearly presenting an opportunity for Robert to easily come to Catherine's room at night or invite her to his room instead and yet at the same time not openly suggesting anything of the sort.

Dinner was announced before Robert could attempt to get more clarity, not that he'd decided he wanted it. He and George made their way to the dining room, and the former was surprised to find it as he hadn't seen it since before his mother had died: a fine table cloth had been found and spread over the table that sat 8; the fine dinnerware and silverware had been neatly arranged in proper settings, the candlesticks were burning in the table's middle, and the entirety of the room had been cleaned and tidied up.

"I am very impressed," was all Robert could muster in response to what had been done while he and the rabble's master had been in the other room discussing the future. He ordered the pouring of a bottle of wine George had had brought to the island and raised his glass, as did the others. "To Kerris Manor. To the people who miraculously prepared this wonderful meal within her. And to those same people, who I welcome to her for as long as they shall wish to remain."

There were cheerful responses from all about the table, and Robert clinked his glass against those to George at his left and Gwyneth, who Robert had insisted sit to his right. Robert then looked to the far end of the table, where George had sat Catherine. He smiled to her, raised his glass a bit more, then added, "And to you, Miss Catherine. Shall you wish to remain here as well, for as long as you shall wish."

………………

OOC: Link to the house: https://vignette2.wikia.nocookie.ne...raHouse.JPG/revision/latest?cb=20161110145724

 

[Alice2015]

Robert laughed at Catherine's question about why he hadn't married a lady and was, instead, entertaining her Uncle's crazy notions, saying, "I have no class, my dear."

She listened with interest and surprise to the noble man's description of the gentry. She'd had no idea that he felt this way, or that any noble could. Her experience with the upper class was that they stuck together like the two halves of a muscle shell in any and all situations, particularly those dealing with what Robert considered the rabble … her class.

Then he surprised her by seeming to verify that he could take an interest in Catherine by telling her, "Perhaps it might be better for me, better for my future, for my estate's future, if I were to look outside that dreaded gentry."

Once again, Catherine's face exploded in a blush. She turned away in an attempt to hide it, smiling in both embarrassment and a surprising amount of delight.

They came around an outbuilding and within view of what Robert called, "The great Kerris Manor."

He spoke jokingly of its flaws, then escorted Catherine inside for a tour. She found herself a bit hesitant, even uncomfortable about being inside Robert's home without a proper chaperone; never -- not once -- in her of age years had Catherine been alone with a man in his home or even alone with one in her own. Her Uncle had always been very strict with her with regards to men, extending even to those men who were here on the island but not of her family tree. Of course, Catherine had no fear of the others now on Kerris Island. Uncle George had each of them so fearful of losing their manhood by doing something improper with Catherine that most of them did their best not to even be near her alone in any such situation.

Catherine partook of the tour of the house, showing appropriate interest. But her attention remained mostly on the man showing her about. Her first impression of him -- from while still in the boat in the surf -- was only getting better; he was handsome, gentle, and polite. Oh, and handsome. Or had she already thought that often?

"It is a lovely home that only needs care," Catherine told him after they'd seen a couple of rooms. When they'd seen most of the first floor, she tempted him by peeking up the narrow staircase and asking, "And what is up there?"

She was playing with fire, of course, knowing that his bedroom would be upstairs and to be invited up to see it -- even if innocently -- was not something a pure girl should ask of her male host. But Catherine had suffered a moment of bravery, which she abandoned quickly.

In the end, Robert only answered that the second floor consisted of bedrooms and a nursery. The mention of the latter, though, made Catherine look away with yet another infuriating blush. She imagined herself sitting in a rocking chair cuddling Robert's baby, the one he'd put inside her after claiming her as his lover and, presumably, his wife.

As the others began flooding into the house with their arms full of goods, Catherine recollected the conversation she'd had with her Uncle regarding his view of her future. She'd asked, "If he does not wish to take me as his wife, will you want him to take me as his lover, Uncle?"

She could remember George hesitating a long moment before responding, "It would not be the choice I'd prefer."

And that had been the end of their discussion on that topic. Catherine had agreed to meet with Lord Robert, despite her uncle's demand that marriage be part of the deal. Any child born by the noble man, even an illegitimate one, would better the situation of Catherine's family. If it was to be that her relationship with Robert was to be one outside the bonds of the Church … so be it. She was certain that the gentleman would care for his child in a befitting manner, and she was sure that the amount of financial support would be far better than any she would get from a husband plucked from the rabble.

The family set about preparing the meal, with Catherine assisting in the kitchen. She peeked out at Robert occasionally through a gap caused by the inability of the decrepit door between the rooms to close. She thought he saw her studying him once and retreated out of sight … yes, blushing yet again.

As the meal was being placed, she moved to that poor door to tell the men that dinner was about to be served when she heard Robert ask, "And what of your great niece, Catherine? Where shall she lay her head down at night, Mister Reed?"

She froze in place, realizing that they were talking about her sleeping arrangements which, she assumed, were to include her sleeping here in the Manor.

"She is meant to serve you, m'lord, as your house keeper and an assistant in the kitchen," her Uncle said, adding, "Until another relationship between her and m'lord comes to be."

Until I become your lover and begin sleeping each night in your bed, Catherine translated her Uncle's words. Will that be with the blessing of God or not?

"Perhaps one of the servant's quarters," her Uncle continued. "Such that she will be close at hand when you need her, m'lord."

Catherine felt a chill rush up her spine. She imagined herself disrobing one evening from her scullery clothes and donning a sleeping gown, only to have Lord Robert -- her master yet not her husband -- slip into her room, lift said robe to beyond her waist, and put his manhood inside her … finding his joy … filling her with his seed.

She flinched from her daydreaming as Gwyneth shot a command at her. She returned to her work, and soon they were all sitting at the dining table or at smaller tables lining the walls. Robert expressed his delight at what he was seeing, then gave a toast.

"And to you, Miss Catherine," he went on, lifting his glass for her. "Shall you wish to remain here as well, for as long as you shall wish."

Yet again her face exploded in a fiery red as she saw and heard others second their new Lord's toast. Glasses clinked, well wishes were exchanged, and the whole of them dug into the meal. It wasn't the most extravagant of dinners but it was far more than George's people typically ate save for special occasions. The family had pretty much cleared their larders to put on what they hoped their host would consider a feast. It had been important to her Uncle that Robert be impressed and be convinced as well, at what the rabble had to offer him.

Catherine looked to Robert often during the meal, diverting her eyes when he himself looked back to her. She had no idea of how to deal with him; other men had come to her or to her Uncle with invitations to be courted, but not one of those invites had gone any farther than the man expressing his interest and Uncle George sending the man packing.

George had always known that Catherine was destined for something more than to be the wife and child bearer for some peasant farmer or miner or blacksmith's apprentice. Catherine had always assumed she'd be wed to a merchant or his son, married into a family that had a stone home and perhaps a horse and a few acres of tillable land.

Until he'd approached her a couple of weeks past about Lord Robert Wilkins, though, Catherine had never dared to hope for something so grand … and outlandish. She'd told Uncle George that it would never happen; such a nobleman would never lower himself to wed the orphaned daughter of peasant tenant farmers.

But Uncle George had been confident of his plan. "Lord Wilkins need us … needs you … as much as we and you need him."

"And as much as you need him yourself, Uncle?" Catherine had challenged.

She'd always known of her Uncle's ambitions. He hoped to one day be able to sit back in a rocking chair and watch his kin work without his having to raise a hand except possibly to play with the children and grandchildren of said kin.

It wasn't an unreasonable dream, of course. No man -- or woman -- wanted to succumb to their end while still slaving away in an attempt to feed his or her children. Should not every person have a few years to simply enjoy the fruits of their life of labor? Should Catherine not help her Uncle enjoy those years, even if it meant parting her thighs to a man for whom she did not feel love?

Will I find love? Catherine found herself wondering as she looked to Robert at the far end of the table? Or will I simply serve?

 

[RobbieRand]

The dinner proceeded well, reminding Robert of those his mother had hosted so many years ago. While most of the dinners to which he'd been a guest had been held at the mainland homes of his relatives and other gentry, three or four times a year Robert's mother had hosted his relatives here at Kerris. His kin and sometimes others from without the family would take the boats across the strait to spend the day and sometimes the entire night. Robert had enjoyed having so much company here, and his mother had enjoyed playing hostess. After her death, though, such gatherings had ceased in their entirety.

After the meal was finished and the pies and cakes consumed, the men retired to the gathering room while the women tended to the cleanup. They talked in greater detail about what needs the estate had, from the mine to the farm to the fishing dock to more. The conversation began with speculation, but two hours later the deal was struck: those here now, as well as another dozen or more men, women, and their children on the mainland who were awaiting good news, would begin the resurrection of Kerris Island in three days hence.

"We should make our way back home, m'lord," George told Robert when it was clear that there was no more need for discussion or negotiation. "The tide is right for a landing."

"Some of your people may remain, if they wish," Robert offered. He gestured to the flames raging in the fireplace, continuing, "I have little bedding to offer, but warmth is plentiful, and I believe the left overs from what your Gwyneth made could feed an army for at least a day or two."

Some of the men who had no need to return took up the offer, adding that it would allow them to begin work on the house and grounds the very next day. About the time this conversation was taking place, the women ventured in from the kitchen where they'd been engaged in a conversation of their own. Robert met the gaze of the beautiful redhead and smiled. He had yearned for Catherine almost from the moment he'd seen her in the boat beaching upon the sand, and now hours later he yearned for her even more. And while he could have offered the downstairs guestroom to some combination of the women, Robert felt it might sound a bit inappropriate.

Instead, he only told the trio of women as he kissed the back of each of their hands, "I await your return to Kerris with eagerness. This house, and its owner, have not so thoroughly enjoyed such company in years."

The rabble, which Robert was coming to realize were wonderful people, began exiting the house into the late evening of orange and red skies. They would all return to the bay and the boat, even those who would remain behind.

 

[RobbieRand]

We have decided to do something very much different than this, so if you have been reading along, we are sorry to disappoint you.

You are free to follow our other adventure if you wish, coming soon to a thread near you.

 

[RobbieRand]

I have returned to roleplaying in the threads after having been away for a while. I have found an active writer -- actually, she and I wrote together before -- who wished to take over the female side of this story.

Unfortunately, because there have been so many changes to Literotica since I was last here, we were unable to simply continue this specific thread. So we have restarted it here: https://forum.literotica.com/thread...le-closed-take-two-with-a-new-writer.1592612/

If you were reading this before and felt abandoned, please see the new thread. The first couple of posts from each of us are essentially copy-and-paste versions from this thread, but some of the later ones are heavily edited. You might want to reread from the very start and ignore this thread altogether.

Thanks.