Tricked by the Lady Georgiana pt 1

It is the 1830’s in a sprawling mansion in Devon England

“Did you sleep well Mr Hardy?” His Grace asked as I came to meet him for breakfast prior to surveying his land for a new rail-way.

“Indeed I did Your Grace,” I confirmed.

“Nothing like the clean crisp Devonish air!” he averred.

“No indeed, nor like a crisp clean Devonish maid!” I chuckled.

He looked at me quizzically.

“The Mop fair Your Grace, in Casterbridge this very evening,” I explained.

“Are you saying you intend to bed a maid, Mr Hardy,” he demanded.

“Ah no, just dance the night away!” I laughed.

He regarded me very sternly, “Then I am very glad to hear it, far too many maids find themselves ruined after the Mop, Mr Hardy, seduced by a pair of smart breeches and false promises. It then falls to us, the Landowners to provide for them, so think on Mr Hardy.”

I was invited to take breakfast with the family, His Grace, his mother the Dowager, his wife Lady Marjorie and his children, the voluptuous Lady Anne, the rake like Lady Georgiana, and the young Lady Alice for sons had he none.

A delicious spread was provided, served by a liveried butler one Hudson and Bessie the maid.

I ate heartily, the Lady Anne fluttered her eyelashes at me. The lady Alice barely said a word but the Lady Georgiana quizzed me continually regarding my need to survey His Grace’s estate so a new railway could be completed in a short time and at minimum expense and inconvenience.

I regaled her with tales of my rushing across moor and vale alike with sextant and maps. Of heroic encounters with angry bulls and the like. I own I made it sound some twenty times more exciting that the drudgery it actually entailed.

“And tomorrow you will be gone?” Lady Georgiana enquired.

“Tomorrow I shall rest and Sunday I shall be gone.” I explained.

“Hardy wishes to experience the Caisterbridge Mop!” His Grace explained.

“Oh Papa can I go!” Miss Georgiana pleaded.

“Absolutely not!” he replied, “It is no place for a well brought up maid, a veritable hotbed of depravity!”

“But you go Papa.” she pointed out.

“I am not a maid, and I am not going.” His Grace insisted. “Neither are you madam, have I made myself clear?”

“Absolutely Father!” she said truculently.

I left after an hour with Dawkins, His Grace’s agent as my guide and ventured forth across the estate.

We ate our lunch in the ‘Dog and Duck’ and I made excellent progress with the survey.

We returned late that afternoon, Dawkins insisted we saw His Grace before I left the estate and returned to my lodging in Caisterbridge.

“Mr Hardy, at last,” His Grace sighed as we went in, “We expected you an hour since.”

He pressed me upon the route of the railway.

I reassured him, “It has to be very near level Your Grace,” I explained, “One foot climb in one hundred at most for we shall use Stephenson Locomotives, not Mr Brunel’s Atmospheric nonsense.”

“Well as long as it stays in the valley and away from the house I shall be content,” he agreed.

“Well, I am delighted to have met you sir,” I agreed.

“Yes, well, Hardy, a word of caution,” he advised, “You are a personable chap, smart articulate. The Mop Fair. Young impressionable maids. Alcohol. A smart fellow. A dalliance and a maid ruined.”

“Oh, absolutely, I shall absolutely be the model of propriety,” I assured him.

“We both know you will not,” he said, “I always give the maid a golden guinea, then, if required, she has the means to, well you know, lose the issue?”

“Absolutely,” I agreed.

“Bit long in the tooth these days,” he said, “Always went in my youth, plucked a good few cherries if you get my meaning, but be kind Mr Hardy. Treat the maids well.”

“Indeed, I thank you!” I agreed, It made eloquent sense. Pluck a chaste maid pay her handsomely leave her feeling fulfilled and with the means to avoid issue and no one is hurt.
I went to my lodging, I ate a hearty meal, I dressed in some fancy boots and a new waistcoat, filled my pockets with coin, secreted a couple of golden sovereigns about my person and ventured forth in search of pleasure.

The town square was filled with a seething mass of humanity. Every sort of stall was there. Archery hit bullseye and win a goldfish in a glass bowl. Sickly sweets. Even a Carousel, and a hall of mirrors, and every other stall. Dogs, Cats, Canaries, Parrots as well as piglets to fatten. and strange lizards and the like. Clothing. Drinks. Potent brews distilled on the moor. Pond water in french Cognac bottles, the full gamut of drink. And food. Venison. Pork. A hog was roasting and Potatoes, every kind of vittle known to Devenish man and some besides.

The Bands played, not bands like one would see in London but a seething mass of every instrument known to man screeching and bellowing at an intolerable volume drowning completely the Hurdy Gurdy and the fiddlers and singers at every turn. Magicians and fools too roamed hither and thither seeking pennies from the throng.

And Maids. Every shape and size. Painted whores. Old wives. Young maids. Very young maids who should have been home abed, and men. Shepherds in their smocks, the well set up strutting like lords, Lords incognito. Parsons in Shepherds smocks all the world using some subterfuge or other to facilitate conjunction.

I wandered among them. I took a small glass of pear cider or some such which near blew my head off and smiled at every passing comely maid.

“Why Mister Hardy,” A maid addressed me, “You said as you was not to come?”

“Yes, indeed,” I agreed, “Change of plan, ah, I am afraid you have the advantage over me?”

“Bessie sir. I served you this morn, Breakfast like,” she explained.

I looked at her and vaguely recognised the thin features of her face. Her smock was clean but shapeless giving little hint of the delights below and she wore a simple white hat and old worn shoes.

“Of course Bessie!” I agreed, “How delightful! are you here with your beau?” I asked.

“I ant got no bow sir,” she said. I struggled to understand her, but gleaned that she had no boyfriend and was alone.

I smiled, I could do better, but did not want to offend the wench so I kept her company while I sought someone more voluptuous, more amorous, more inebriated perhaps for tonight I was determined to break my week long enforced celibacy.

I took her to the Archery, she missed. She threw hoops, she missed. She ate a large piece of freshly roasted pork. She shared some strong wine. She held my hand. She let me put my arm around her. She let me kiss her cheek. She wriggled when my hand brushed her bosom.

“I’d better be getting back,” she said at length.

“It is late, stay at my lodging and go home on the morrow,” I suggested.

“I daredunt,” she said, which I took to mean she could not risk her employers’ wrath.

“Then I shall walk you,” I offered.

The church clock struck eleven as we walked from the square and away from the throng. We walked the white way, the stone road towards His Grace’s mansion. Up to the hilltop where a stunted copse made a windbreak before plunging down, down where the railway now passes before turning hard to climb to the mansion.

We paused at the copse edge. Where the chill wind caught us. We looked at the view in the moonlight. I pointed out the route the railway would take. I stood behind her and held her. An arm around her. Kissed her cheek. held her with the other arm. Caressed her breast.

“Nooo,” she said, “Someone will see.”

“Then be quiet,” I whispered.

I lofted her smock and grasped her mounds from beneath. She wore a vest and underskirt, leggings, but no pantaloons. She had set out to find love, ready to take a member at a moment’s notice.

Her teats were like pebbles, her protests feeble. I lofted her smock around her neck, lofted her vest. Pulled her underskirt to under her breasts and released my member into the cool night air.

He sprang to attention with alacrity. I checked her slot to ensure she desired me. The slit ran with moisture. It parted for my thumb at the least pressure. “Nooooo,” she protested but insincerely for her whole being craved my member and my seed and I did not disappoint.

A cloud flitted across the moon as I did the deed. I bent her at the waist. She had a fence rail to grasp for stability and I aimed and thrust as one and claimed her.

A despairing cry passed her lips and her innocence was gone. I relished her warmth. Her purity. I had a duty. The moment of losing ones’ innocence is never forgotten by man or woman so I set myself to make this the happiest moment of her life.

I hugged her as I ploughed her from behind. By so doing I could caress her breasts and kiss her cheeks in turn while she could look upon the beauty of the moon lit valley.
And beautiful it was indeed. I own it was as beautiful moment as I have ever known.

Faint protests still emanated from her lips but mingled with gasps of ecstasy as my member pressed ever further into her loins, delicately opening her parts so that in my minds eye others might avail themselves of her charms and she might think kindly of me even though we should never meet again.

She grasped the fence rail as I pounded her. She stood her ground and then began to push back at me, forcing my member ever deeper inside her. Her breath rasped in her throat. She gasped at every thrust. Every squeeze of her nipples. Every kiss on her cheek. I luxuriated in her warmth. Her loins were like a volcano. The liquid boiled around my and as must happen before long I was compelled to quench the fire.

A moments inattention on my part and jet of seed burst forth from my loins to quench the fires in hers. My poor member convulsed innumerable times as he pushed every single drop from my poor balls to her womb. Inexcusably I uttered the lie. “I love you.”

It was the sensation I loved. Spending my seed. Feeling her warmth. The view. The wine. Everything. I didn’t love Bessie. I had no desire to see her again. As long as she dealt with any issue and refrained from producing a child then we should part readily enough and amicably. Fond memories all that remained of our liaison.

“You shun tave.” she said as I subsided. I took that to mean “You should have refrained.”

“That was delightful, I thank you.” I averred. “His Grace said to give you a gold sovereign in case you have fallen for a child, there is a woman in the town who will deal,” I explained, “But that was so sweet I shall give you two gold sovereigns that you may purchase a keepsake of your lost honour.”

“I don’t want you damned money!” she cursed, “I’m no whore!”

“You cannot afford such scruples,” I explained, “Now take it or I shall deliver it to His Grace for safe keeping.”

She took the money with bad grace, “Go then, you have used me, be gone.”

“I shall walk you to a stones throw of the house, I owe you that at least.” I promised.

She shivered. I lent her my coat and we walked onwards. One hundred yards short I kissed her. I wished her luck and taking my coat from her I walked away.

It was when I returned to my lodging that I found I still had the gold sovereigns.

I returned to His Grace’s home the next day. I asked to see him. He indulged me.

“I am afraid I took but some of your advice sir,” I admitted. “I had a dalliance with a maid.”

“And?” he queried.

“Your maid sir, Bessie.” I explained, “But she refused the golden sovereign and that concerns me sir, I do not want consequences for the maid, or indeed myself.”

“I just knew you would,” he said, “I did every year till the last one or so, too long in the tooth now, anyway I shall summon the maid and hear her side of it. Wait here a moment.”

He went in search of Bessie and returned presently.

“I have interrogated the maid the young maid who was tearful indeed and she denies all Mr Hardy. She insists she is pure. She denies visiting the fair. She denies everything. What cruel jape are you playing upon us?” His Grace continued, “Or is it just lies and misplaced loyalty on the wenches part ?”

“I know only that I knew her carnally last night,” I explained. “I walked her home within a stones throw sir.”

“Bessie,” His Grace continued, “Come in here girl, confess or it shall be to your detriment.”

The girl appeared, she seemed plainer and stouter in the daylight than she had in the torchlight and moonlight of the past eve.

“No, I am pure still,” she insisted.

“Oh really Bessie please don’t keep up this charade,” His Grace pleaded, “After all we check easily enough.”

“What do you mean sir?” she asked.

“We can examine your maidenhead, if it has gone the point is proven,” His Grace explained.

“Please no!” Bessie cried tearfully.

“I say sir this is harsh,” I insisted.

“Harsh, lies from a servant cannot be tolerated under any circumstance,” His Grace continued, “Admit it wench, Mr Hardy has confessed.”

“No, ‘twas not I,” she pleaded.

“What say you Hardy?”he asked.

“Well I plugged a wench and right enough, but seeing it was dark and the face in shadow, I cannot be certain of whom, and she did look thinner in the moonlight but she were a maid in a maid’s smock, and I walked her home here,” I insisted.

“Bessie, confess girl, this is no place for modesty,” His Grace insisted.

Bessie sobbed, “I’m sorry sir, Your Grace, I really am but I must confess.”

“Good. At last,” he sighed.

“Lady Georgiana borrowed me smock of the night,” Bessie confessed, “The maid must have been she.”

“Liar!” His Grace exploded

“As god’s me witness,” Bessie pleaded.

“You unspeakable witch!” His Grace expounded, and he bellowed, “Hudson. In here. Now.

His Grace explained what Bessie had alleged. Hudson frowned “Your Grace, young Bessie is not prone to flights of fancy, indeed the tale is quite plausible, perhaps you should ask your daughter about this Your Grace.”

“But that is preposterous!” His Grace protested, “Oh very well call Georgiana and settle this once and for all!”

I sat down and waited, shortly Georgiana appeared, nervously or so it seemed, “Ah my dear,” His Grace said pleasantly, “Bessie alleges that it was you and not she who visited the Mop Fair last evening?”

“Oh,” Georgiana responded, “But why should she say such a thing?”

“Because Mr Hardy felt compelled to revisit the sweet maid whose honour he took after the fair.” His Grace explained, “Mr Hardy being a professional man and not a gentleman and so not versed in the ways of the gentry do you see.”

“I am afraid,” Georgiana said.

“You borrowed me smock!” poor Bessie cried, “For pities sake please miss tell them else they’ll thrash me!”

“Yes, I cannot lie, I borrowed Bessie’s smock,” Georgiana admitted.

“And seduced Mr Hardy?” His Grace enquired.

“He overcame me,” she said, “I thought he might kiss me, but he overcame me, you must see, he overpowered me and there was naught I could do!”

“He took your honour?” His Grace demanded, “Is that what you are saying?”

“Forcibly?” Hudson queried.

“Yes, very, forcibly, I had no idea father.” she admitted.

“And what say you Hardy?” His Grace demanded.

“I had no idea sir, I thought she was a maid,” I said, “We went around the fair together quite amicably. She did not resist me. Indeed we coupled quite amicably as I recall.”

“With my gripping a fence while you forced yourself into me from the rear,” she snapped.

“It was your choice,” I retorted.

“Only because I knew nothing of man and woman,” she replied, “I thought we would conjoin like stallion and mare!”

“Good god then did you set out to seduce Hardy!” His Grace queried, “But why?”

“I, I know not, an excess wine perhaps,” she replied, “It started as a game, I spoke like Bessie and he thought I was Bessie.”.

“And is your honour gone?”he asked, “The truth now.”

Georgiana nodded sadly.

“Well there’s a pretty pickle,” His Grace sighed, “Daughter dishonoured.”

“Indeed,” Hudson agreed, “Though it could be worse.”

“She’ll have to go,” His Grace insisted.

“Perhaps I should make her an offer?” I ventured.

“Good god man, quite out of the question your a commoner!” His Grace insisted, “No Georgiana you’re no daughter of mine, summon Dawkins have him draw up the papers!”

“No papa,” Georgiana pleaded, “It was a game gone wrong, no more.”

“No you have dishonoured the family,” he insisted, “Where the hell is Dawkins!”

Dawkins stepped forward with an evil smirk, “I took the liberty to acquire a set of such papers some time ago Your Grace, I have them here. Disinheritance papers.”

“And when I sign?” he asked, “She is no longer a daughter of mine!”

“Indeed sir,” Dawkins explained, “With such want of propriety she cannot remain part of this family”

“Father you cannot do that!” Georgiana cried.

“I damned well can you watch me!” His Grace snapped, “Stupid unfeeling girl!”

“Father have you lost control of your senses!” Georgiana cried.

“No but you have you wanton strumpet!” His Grace snapped, “Now get from my sight!”

“But my Lord!” Dawkins spoke up, “You have disowned the wench, you must cast her out of the house or your name will be nothing!”

“Indeed, “His Grace insisted, “She must be stripped of her finery and cast out.”

“Father!” Georgiana cried.

“No Dawkins is right, you must be expunged from this family, I cannot have you remain beneath my roof!” His Grace expounded.

“No, well that is not strictly true Your Grace,” Dawkins suggested, “On the continent many ennobled families employ a whore among the household staff, and there is nothing to prevent it here should you so wish.”

“A whore?” His Grace queried.

“Indeed sir,” Dawkins ventured, “One of the lower orders to provide relief and carnality as required, to comfort family and visitors alike.”

“Your Grace,” I intervened, “This is preposterous, I claimed Georgiana, I wish to honour my responsibilities, please allow me to make her an offer.”

“What offer, Sixpence to plough her,” Dawkins proposed sarcastically.

“A gold sovereign sir,” I suggested.

“You’re mad, evil all of you!” Georgiana protested.

“Be quiet you stupid girl,” His Grace insisted, “Do you not see Hardy offers a resolution to you predicament? A months lodging? Some clothing. You shall be glad oif a sixpence let alone a gold sovereign when you are cast out.”

“But father!” she pleaded.

“But nothing, now disrobe,” His Grace insisted, “Take the money, take Hardy, who knows Dawkins or Hudson may wish to follow suit.”.

“I shall not!” she demured.

“You shall or it will be the worse for you,” His Grace insisted, “Mr Hardy may not wish to force you but Dawkins has none of his consideration. You are to be treated as a whore now and you shall serve whosoever shall pay for your favours.”

“No!” she demurred.

“Then strip her, Dawkins, Hudson, bare the wench forthwith,” His Grace insisted.“No!” she insisted but in a moment was she seized and Dawkins stepped forward his piggy little eyes staring greedily and in a moment her gown was undone and falling open to the waist he released her mounds.

“There is that not more comfortable?” he enquired as he fondled her teats one first then the other, “She is roused already see,” he explained and he pressed her gown down further to her petticoats and stays and indeed her corset.

“Cut the laces Dawkins, let us not stand on ceremony,” His Grace ordered and at once his small knife was out from its hiding place and her stays and corsets cut free and all cascaded to the floor leaving naught but her stockings cloven to her.

“Strip her!” His Grace insisted and Dawkins and Hudson swiftly wrenched and grasped at the garments until she finally sprang free from them as naked as the day she were born, a thin scrawney excuse for a whore, one I should have not paid three farthings to plough to be honest.

“So what say you Hardy, a shilling whore?” His Grace enquired.

“I promised a golden sovereign,” I postulated rashly.

“Then pay the wench and you shall do the honours!” His Grace declared.

“Indeed, take it. I must do this sweet Georgiana I cannot resist sampling your charms one last time.” I apologised.

“Snap to it do the honours?” His Grace insisted, “For I own my breeches are bursting with lust.”

“Then I must do your bidding Your Grace,” I replied.

Georgiana looked for an escape but there was none as the Hudson blocked the doorway and Dawkins ushered Georgiana towards the bench set along the wall for the servants use.

“On the bench!”he ordered and Georgiana half fell half sat on the bench where upon he and Hudson seized her. They spread her legs widely and lewdly so they were in line from ankle to ankle with her woman’s parts. Pulled so tight that the very lips of her womans parts were lewdly spread and taking cords and straps they secured her in this undignified position. They also secured her hands to her ankles.

Georgiana cried with humiliation and anger at her treatment but he protests were ignored as Dawkins explored her womans parts and showed a finger glistening with her juices as proof that her moistness had betrayed her whorish nature as she craved my mannish emissions.

Her teats were swollen, even as her eyes dripped tears and the moistness spread from her parts to the bench.

“Good god, how the little bitch craves you,” His Grace exclaimed, “Don’t keep her waiting Hardy, chop chop.

I slipped off my jacket and breeches. My shirt. My Boots. I knelt before her and kissed her mouth, “May I make you mine again?” I asked.

“Why ask, just take me I cannot refuse,” she replied.

“Say no and I shall defer to Mr Dawkins,” I advised, “But I own I relished our first union, you took me to heaven and that is where I wish to take you.”

“Very well,” She agreed. Take me away from all this Mr Hardy, blot out the horrors of the day if such is within your power.”

I gripped my member and aimed him towards her glistening heaven. I pressed him upwards easing her woman’s lips aside and when fully sheathed I kissed her passionately upon the mouth.

“No, you must not!” Georgiana protested.

“But I wish to, and have paid a great deal for the privilege,” I insisted.

Poor Georgiana was confused, she knew not whether I viewed her as a whore, a lover, or something else. Her parts were on fire yet she tried to appear calm and collected.

I kissed her mouth, her eyebrows. I fondled her teats, I kissed her neck and as I felt the sap rising I demanded, “Will you marry me?”

“Yes, Oh yes!” she exclaimed but it was joy at her release as my seed gushed forth joyously that made her cry out. And then we were done. Spent.

“Excellent sir,” I said as I wiped my member. “You are a Justice of the Peace I believe sir.”

“Yes,” His Grace agreed.

“And you have disinherited Georgiana?” I queried.

“Indeed,” he agreed, “Why do you ask?”

“So I have no need to ask your permission to marry her. Indeed she agreed to marry me before two witnesses and a Justic of the Peace, Therefore Georgiana and I are married in common law, married and consumated sir. Married and consumated. She is mine sir, not yours, and you shall treat my wife with courtesy and kindness sir or you shall have me to deal with, and a railway line across your front lawn!”

“Now don’t be hasty Hardy,” His Grace said nervously, “Why you’ll make an admirable son in law, I’ll just sign the papers, I’ll save myself a pretty penny in dowry.”

“Cut my wife free,” I ordered, “Make yourself decent, we have standards to maintain Mrs Hardy.”

Georgiana leapt from the bench as soon as she was freed and quickly threw on her dress and ran away. I too dressed. I made my excuses and went in search of Georgiana.

She was in her bedroom. I had so much to say. To apologise. To profess my love.

She was in her underskirt and vest, I undressed her. Wordlessly. I kissed her. She lay on the bed and opened her legs invitingly.

Actions speak louder than words. I dropped my breeches and let my member speak for me. He spoke of my longing. My need. My love. My passion. “I love you,” I said quietly.

“I know,” she replied. “Though I think I preferred it when we conjoined outdoors.” She thought a moment. “But it was so exciting with Daddy and Dawkins watching us. They were stroking their members and everything. I don’t suppose you could see that?”

To be continued.

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