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It was Saturday morning when Tobias hastened from the church after yet another meeting with his churchwarden, hoping, at last, to get some free time to compose his Sunday sermon. He was not usually so behind with such duties but his week had been rather overwhelmed by an unasked-for visitor in the shape of his soldier brother’s former mistress, the actress Miss Fifi Fontayne.
The anxiety of trying to get rid of her before she caused a scandal, plus the fact that she regarded him as some sort of second-rate clerical Master of Ceremonies, whose only function was to provide her with constant entertainment, had left Tobias without a spare minute. Any writing he had done this past week was only in the form of letters asking for urgent help to rid him of his admittedly comely but somewhat overwhelming burden.
As he approached his front door, he heard a familiar voice behind him. With a sense of fatedness, he turned with a dutiful smile to greet his mama, thanking God in his merciful heaven that she hadn’t arrived a day earlier.
They passed the threshold together, and after Tobias had given his mama a peck on the cheek, in dramatic tones that could rival Mistress Fontayne’s, his mama proclaimed, “Where is that woman?”
As Tobias was in the process of being handed her hat and travelling shawl, he reckoned that he was too close to get away with innocently answering, ‘What woman?’ without earning a well-aimed clip about the ear.
So he merely replied, “Gone.”
“Where?” his mother asked, looking about wildly as if Fifi would suddenly spring out from behind the hall stand.
“Bath,” Tobias responded briefly.
“How?” His mother asked, with a disbelieving stare. Leaving out the collusion of both of his brothers (after all, they had to live with her) Tobias ad-libbed an explanation as best he could at such short notice.
“An, er… parishioner,” he began, mentally reasoning that his good friend Meg, although she never visited the church, had sufficient and intimate knowledge of the vicarage and its incumbent to be unofficially counted as such, “knew of a theatre company in dire need of a performer at the Theatre Royal, so off she went.”
“Oh, thank heavens for small mercies,” His mother exclaimed. With that family crisis now neatly disposed of, she rapidly turned her attention to a critical appraisal of her youngest son. “Shouldn’t you be writing your Sunday sermon?” She inquired suspiciously.
With relief, Tobias informed her that was his precise intention. And so, leaving him to deposit her baggage, she sailed off to the kitchens to organise tea. Tobias gladly reached the asylum of his study, feeling slightly guilty that after hiding in the kitchen for most of the week in terror of Fifi, his poor housekeeper now had to bear the brunt of his mother’s domineering ways.
Thankful for even a bit of temporary peace, Tobias began to sketch out something to say for the upcoming Sunday service that his mother might approve of. With regards to the events of the past week, he immediately thought of the parable of The Good Samaritan and then quickly discarded it as being merely inflammatory to the maternal mindset.
Tobias hoped that his mama’s mere presence at church on the Sabbath would be enough for her to quell what she obviously imagined were wild rumours about her youngest son’s Roman-style orgies in the vicarage. He was even relieved that she collared the approaching churchwarden. This gave him a moment to slip into the vestry for the books he had borrowed from neighbours to try and keep Fifi occupied for at least ten minutes at a time.
On returning the volumes with gratitude, he glanced around, conscious of his mother and the churchwarden looking at him intently, obviously in collusion, which gave him the first stirrings of unease.
Sunday dinner was much more edible than usual and actually hot, which was one good thing about his mother’s interference in the household. Tobias devoured the food with relish, but had a sense of foreboding as his mama finished her meal, putting her knife and fork together with a sharp click as she began, “Now, Tobias…”
This reprimanding tone was so reminiscent of the churchwarden’s lengthy monologues that Tobias found he could nod his head in agreement with a studious air of concentration while not really listening at all.
However, his attention was caught suddenly and uncomfortably when his mama concluded with, “… and if you had bothered to put your mind to getting yourself espoused, that woman would never have dared to encroach on the bounds of the vicarage!”
Tobias obediently said, “Yes, mama,” while privately thinking that nothing short of an act of God or a natural disaster could stop Fifi when she was in full flow. A mere wife would be no defensive fortification whatsoever.
Mrs Whitmore continued relentlessly, “so while I am here, we really must redouble our efforts to get you properly settled and soon. I hear the Lowe girls are still not fixed.”
Tobias’ heart sank at the prospect of a recurrence of those three young ladies on his matrimonial horizon. They were named Patience, Hope and Chastity, who even in the most casual social circumstances required Forbearance and Fortitude followed by a Rapid Retreat. He privately thought that even a month of Fifi’s exhaustive company was much happier notion than permanence with one of the Lowes. At least she could be amusing after the first bottle and a half.
However, he sensibly said nothing on the subject, but merely asked his mother to pass the cheese and praised his favourite rhubarb chutney she had brought with her especially.
Monday morning saw Tobias accompanying his mother to the next town to call on her cousin who was married to a Canon. Satisfied that she had cowed the housekeeper into some order (even Tobias noticed that his drawing-room looked slightly less dusty) she was happy to stay for the rest of her visit in the orderly comfort of her kinswoman’s lovely residence, all the while managing her youngest son’s future happiness in the way she thought best.
Having done his duty as bag-carrier, and realising that he was not required in the subsequent conversation about his marital prospects, he deposited his mama and her luggage with their relative. He was resigned to loiter a while before the next conveyance could carry him back home.
The strain of Fifi’s demanding presence followed by his mother’s interference had left him feeling uncharacteristically downhearted as he walked aimlessly towards the main street. His miserable musings were interrupted by a welcome voice calling, “Fancy seeing you here!”
He turned, delighted to have his bleak thoughts interrupted, to see Meg, his intimate companion, walking up the street towards him, smartly dressed for shopping. She was wearing one of her trademark bonnets which seemed to have an entire and not quite seasonal garden full of flowers affixed to it.
Although fortunate, it was not a huge surprise to bump into her in this way, as she was currently staying a few streets away at the courtesy of a gentleman admirer. Tobias had only seen her yesterday, with her voluptuous friend Betty as they had rapidly and effectively staged Fifi’s getaway from St Margaret’s Vicarage.
“I have an hour alone to kick my heels today, and who could be more respectable to walk me into town than a vicar?” She said with a grin. “After all you are related to a bishop or something!”
“Canon, and only by marriage,” Tobias replied automatically and offered her his arm.
Meg, still smiling, lightly apologized for not being able to invite him back to the cottage since her protector might make an unwonted appearance. “Business before pleasure,” she said with a giggle.
Tobias responded to this sally with only an abstracted twitch of the lips, which alerted Meg to his unusually flat disposition. He tried to make light of his situation as he explained his reason for being in the town. He already owed Meg and Betty a debt of gratitude and did not want to seem ungrateful as he attempted to make light of his mother’s decision-making and his plans for his future after the Fifi debacle.
“It looks like the Lowes will make a reappearance in my life after all,” he said jokingly. “After all, I suppose I must get married to someone or other sooner or later,” he added dubiously.
Having previously heard all about the Lowes and the abject dismay with which Tobias regarded them, Meg just glanced at him thoughtfully and changed the subject to Fifi’s onward journey to lighten his mood. “When I left the coach she was full of excitement about Bath and quoting from Shakespeare at all the passengers,” Meg said, which really did make Tobias laugh.
“Was there really an acting job waiting for her?” Tobias had wondered at the convenient coincidence of this miraculous distraction.
Meg shrugged her shoulders becomingly, “By the time she gets to Bath there probably will be,” she replied with a smile. She patted him on the hand. “Don’t you fret about all that. She’s not your problem now.”
“Thank goodness,” Tobias replied. “Or rather, thank you and Betty.”
They had reached the main thoroughfare and were about to go in different directions when he saw another familiar figure walk towards him in the shape of Lucy Holbourne. This was a young lady who lived just outside the town who Tobias had an increasing fondness for.
Although delighted (particularly with the daunting upcoming prospect of the Lowes to contend with) to have two of the loveliest of young females at his side, he was slightly nervous about making introductions. This was from past experience in the parish when he had blithely acquainted ladies to each other. He had been taken aback on several occasions, despite the veneer of perfect manners and polite words, that the underlying attitude had been rather in the manner of cats hissing and spitting before preparing to scratch the other’s eyes out.
However, he need not have worried as both Lucy and Meg were far too good-natured for any such foolishness. They merely responded to each other with brief and instantly forgettable pleasantries. Lucy was just about to move on when her eyes fixed on the creation a-topping Meg’s head. She said with genuine admiration, “What an absolutely marvellous hat! I’m sure you couldn’t have got that locally?”
And with that, they were off, apparently on an in-depth discussion of every milliner’s establishment in the county and beyond. This specialist subject was completely over Tobias’ head. He didn’t really bother to follow the ins and outs of the perils of bonnet buying, but just felt a sense of gladness that two people he genuinely cared for were getting on so famously.
The ladies parted on truly amicable terms with Lucy declaring she must dash as her mama was waiting for her. As she rushed off, she called back to Tobias, “I’ll see you at the Glossops’, Friday of next week!”
“What a thoroughly nice girl,” Meg declared, fondly adjusting a stray flower on her hat.
Tobias agreed with an enthusiasm at odds with his previously grey demeanour, still looking after the departing Lucy. Meg gave him a shrewd glance. Had he noticed, this might have reminded him of his mother at her most managing. Feeling a little brighter for these felicitous meetings, he solicitously walked Meg to the shop of her choice before saying his goodbyes and making his way back to Stratton.
From that day on, when entering the vicarage, Tobias was as nervous to look at the hall table for the post as he had been during the previous week when Fifi was in residence. However, then, if the table was bare, he felt a tinge of despair that his calls for relief were as yet unheeded. Whereas now, there was a huge sense of alleviation that there were no visiting cards or invitations lurking in wait from the Lowes or any other local families with acknowledgedly un-marriageable daughters.
On Thursday, however, to his surprise, there was a letter from his mama. Tom had been unexpectedly recalled to his regiment and so she was returning home to see him off. Probably making sure that he remembered to pack his sword this time, Tobias thought.
Although he knew that, no doubt, his mama had put iron-clad arrangements in place as far as he was concerned, he felt less of a sense of doom since she wouldn’t be there in person to enforce them. His aspect brightened further when the following day brought a note from Meg. Merely seeing her familiar scribble made him smile.
She briefly informed him that her gentleman friend was making a business trip to the manufacturing town of Birmingham and she would be accompanying him for the shopping. Tobias grinned to himself at the thought of how many hat boxes she would bring back with her. She also mentioned she had bumped into Lucy again in the street and had another chat with her. ‘She really is a very nice girl,’ Meg repeated with an emphasis that went straight over Tobias’ head.
On entering the church on Sunday, however, his uplifted heart sank to his polished boots. Rather than the sparse and elderly congregation who had nothing better to do with themselves on the day of rest than to waste an hour in church mainly dozing, the ancient building was packed to the gunnels with hopeful young ladies and their expectant parents, including the dreaded Lowes.
No doubt this extensive gathering was on his mama’s orders, but she must have had a local conspirator to help put this coup de theatre into practice. One glance at the churchwarden showed that his expression was inordinately smug. Tobias always respected his elders and was not remotely prone to violence but he did feel a fleeting urge to punch the self-satisfied look off that gentleman’s face.
Tobias was quite accustomed to no one paying attention to his carefully composed sermons, which were often accompanied by snoring in harmony. This Sunday, however, the focus on his rhetoric was much more unnerving. Every time he looked up from his notes at the congregation, it seemed like dozens of female heads lifted like pointers on the scent, all competing for his gaze alone. He was reduced to a hasty mumbling of the rest of his missive, terrified to look up from the safety of the lectern.
Also, as he tried to guide his flock through the familiar responses, there was the constant distraction of the rustling of freshly starched dresses, discreet girlish whispers and hushed giggles. One enterprising young lady even employed her prayer book as an improvised fan.
Thoroughly unnerved, he dashed through the latter part of the service. He hoped to escape before each and every young spinster was paraded past him at the church door, but the churchwarden was having none of it and clung grimly onto his arm before he could disappear into the vestry. Rather than being dragged down the nave dragging his heels like a recalcitrant schoolboy, Tobias clung onto the shreds of his dignity and surrendered to his fate.
Hopeful mamas with their simpering daughters loitered for his particular attention as he kept his countenance in a fixed smile and tried his best not to make eye-contact with anyone. Unsurprisingly, Mrs Lowe was having none of these avoidance tactics.
She stopped directly in front of Tobias with her virtuously named daughters in tow and announced in her usual commanding tone, “We will see you to take tea this week, Vicar. You will receive an invitation.” Tobias tried not to sigh, having endured similar hospitality at the Lowes on one memorable occasion. To his horror, he had nearly found himself engaged to be married before the beverage pot was half-emptied.
The last of his parishioners had been greeted and sent on their way and Tobias’ could, at last, relax his grimace into an exhausted frown. The churchwarden, who was still hovering by his side, turned to him, with what was meant to an ameliorating smile said, “We only wish you to be happy, sir. I don’t know what I’d do without the companionship of my own dear helpmeet.”
As the churchwarden’s wife was an extremely silent woman who seemed to be exceptionally fond of working in her garden, especially when her husband was at home, Tobias held onto the remaining shreds of his patience and held back a pithy retort.
When he finally entered the peace and damsel-free zone of the vicarage, he automatically went to his study. But with his hand on the doorknob, it occurred to him that the room was front-facing and that any lingering parents and their expectant offspring would be able to see he was at home and might attempt to attract his attention to gain entry.
He acknowledged in his agitated state of mind that barring the shutters and reading by candlelight might be overkill. So he swiftly snagged a book from the study shelves and retired to the safety of the empty kitchen at the back of the house with a large and restorative brandy to repair his shattered nerves.
With no sense of surprise, Monday did indeed bring a command from the Lowes to take tea the very next day. However, Tobias’ sense of doom was lifted when he read the two other missives that were awaiting his attention. The first was from his mother’s cousin, saying that his mama had dashed off in such a hurry that she had left a few items behind and asking if Tobias would collect them at his leisure.
Tobias decided that mama needed her hairbrush as soon as possible and quickly rushed off a note to say he would be available for this errand on the morrow. An urgent appointment with the Canon would be the ideal excuse to delay the Lowes, even if he didn’t actually get to see that august gentleman at all.
The next letter was a bit of a puzzle. He was surprised to see Meg’s handwriting since she had already informed him she would be away this week. The contents were even more perplexing, as she requested him to call at the cottage late Tuesday afternoon, ‘for a nice surprise.’
He couldn’t imagine that Meg would turn down a generously funded shopping bonanza merely for an hour of his carnal company (she did have her priorities, after all.) But he shrugged his shoulders and was more than happy to oblige. The small detour would mean he would be away from the vicarage for longer and so make it more difficult to be intercepted by the Lowes or any other aspirational mama.
Tobias’ task at his relatives went smoothly enough. He was invited to take refreshment which he gladly accepted and his mother’s cousin kept the conversation to neutral topics of family and friends, including the upcoming soiree at the Glossops which they would both attend. Indeed, she steered so clear of the topic of his marital prospects that Tobias detected a twinge of sympathy towards him.
This was reinforced by her murmuring during her farewells, when the parcel was pressed into his hands ready for his departure. “I’m sure your mama means well…” She uttered, in a slightly uncertain tone.
Tobias was consoled by this (it was pleasant to have a local ally that was not entirely pro-Lowe) as he made the short walk to his next port of call. He was actually whistling a cheerful tune when he reached Meg’s cottage, which unsurprisingly looked deserted.
He tried the door, which creaked open and let himself into the narrow hallway, calling a ‘hallo’ which echoed emptily off the walls. Feeling slightly foolish, he went into the pretty parlour and sat in a comfortable chair, thinking he’d while away a few minutes before heading on his way again.
As he sat he became aware of a light creaking of footsteps on the floor above, which he was well aware was Meg’s bedroom having spent some memorably hectic and blissful hours up there. He was about to rise and call out again, making the incumbent aware of his presence, when the noise ceased directly above and moved towards the staircase. He heard the dainty clatter of footsteps on the wooden steps and a familiar female voice humming in song.
He rose to his feet, out of politeness, as the door opened, then sat down abruptly with his mouth open as he viewed the vision before him. There was the luscious Betty, evidently discharged from her duty with the flighty Fifi, but obviously having raided the wardrobe of Bath Theatre Royal.
Somehow, she had accrued a costume of her former profession of opera dancer. On her deliciously upholstered frame, it was evidently at least a size too small, but given the vista it rewarded him, Tobias certainly was not complaining.
She beamed at him, continuing to sing a popular and somewhat salacious song. Tobias, however, was unconcerned with the lyrics, but rather more transfixed with Betty’s bounties bouncing in the skimpiest theatrical outfit he could have possibly imagined. The skirt, as it was, didn’t even reach her plump knees, which were fully on display above her garters as she capered around in the dance which accompanied the rather rude lyrics.
To his delight, her splendidly cavernous cleavage was well-displayed in the very low-cut bodice and her marvellous bust emerged a little more fully at every energetic bounce of the routine. When she turned around, bending over, winking at him cheekily over her shoulder, the exposure of plump thighs, a glimpse of bare bottom and almost exposed breasts nearly undid him.
Perfectly aware of the effect she was having on him, Betty came towards him and leaning on his thighs, shook her splendid bosom in his face. This was too much provocation for Tobias and with a greedy gasp, he came to the aid of those delicious overflowing handfuls, helping them fall out of the corset completely and fastened his mouth on a candy-pink nipple.
Betty finished her song with a squeak, before settling herself on his lap. Now Tobias not only had access to her wondrous chest but also that softly rounded rump. So he showed his fervent appreciation by saluting the former with his lips and mouth and the latter with his roving hands.
By the rotations of her hips, Betty was evidently enjoying the avid attention and getting pleasantly hot and bothered. She released herself from his grasp momentarily and before Tobias could protest, she turned around so she was facing away from him, lifting her skimpy skirts and fully exposing her wondrous nether regions.
At this hint, Tobias released his very ardent shaft and as she sat back down on him again, gladly filled her to the brim. They then began their own song and dance, with Betty almost wailing her pleasure as she bounced vigorously up and down, using the hand that wasn’t precariously keeping her balance to eagerly rub her nub. Meanwhile, Tobias thoughtfully made sure to fill his hands with those marvellously bouncing breasts.
It wasn’t long before Betty started to shudder, Tobias politely (if somewhat desperately) holding back until her cries subsided into moans before his own pleasure exploded dramatically.
They stayed there for a little while, Tobias fondling that splendid bosom until Betty recovered sufficiently. He felt relaxed and at ease with this naughty piece in his arms and was thoroughly glad of Meg and Betty’s plotting to give him some light relief from his wedlock woes.
Eventually, Betty shifted her weight from his knees, evidently signalling that the pleasurable respite was concluded. With a sigh, Tobias thought about returning to the vicarage and pondered on what summoning notes might be waiting for him there. Providentially, Betty seemed to sense his change of mood.
She looked over her shoulder at him and said with another cheeky wink, “Shall we go upstairs for an encore?”
At that unexpected but extremely welcome suggestion, Tobias was well-nigh inspired to respond with an appreciative round of applause.
Sherry
- 21.08.2020
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