The Testament Of Jeremy Lord NorthamChapter 16
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That evening I entered the library of the Manor house. It was large, larger even than the Woodhouse library. I assumed that the library was at least 500 years old and perhaps older. I knew from the servants that the previous Lord was a learned man and read much. Of course, with 500 years of learning and reading, he should have been such.
Truth be told, I had been drawn to the library not in search of Sophia, the Goddess of Wisdom but by Calliope, the Muse of Epic poetry and therefore, of rapes. Most of the books were in Latin, the language of the learned even now. A few more were in Greek with their strange runes and some few were in English. There were plays by Marlowe and a fellow unknown to me then, Shakespeare. Then I found a few journals in French, once the language of England and perhaps the birth language of the previous Lord for in 1066 the Normans made England a French possession and in his youth many of the nobility would have spoken French.
In the French section I found my treasure. It was a recent book with hardly any wear and bright new printed illustrations. I opened it and the first illustration burned my soul. A woman had taken a man's cock into her mouth. The book slipped from my nerveless fingers and I had to catch it in midair to keep from dropping it.
I quickly leafed through the book. It was a primer on sex. I had little French having had but two years in Primary school and only studying French one of those years and then some usage in trade. But I had enough words to make some sense of it. It discussed all of the ways of sex, some positions seemed impossible and others disgusting. There was a whole section of love, French style as most people say, that is with the mouth. The boys had often joked about such things but I had never believed them possible until I saw with my own eyes the illustrations in this book. I read avidly how a man could reduce a woman to uninhibited passion by use of his mouth and tongue on her sex. I read on, unbelieving.
I commandeered this book and took it to my room and would turn to it night after night until I near had it memorized. It brought back my French, then expanded it as I struggled to learn the secrets of the French. This would shortly come to my aid, but I do not wish to hurry past the next interlude.
At ten the next morning, I was at the Vicarage escorting the poor man away from his house once again. I hoped there were many in the area needing his services. Meg, with the same beautiful hair and striking blue eyes as her cousin, strode into the chapel. I surveyed her, she was nearly as perfect as her cousin, just one year or so short of full perfection as a woman. But she was still enchanting and I could see fully capable as a woman.
Without a word, I took her to the bedroom. I noted her hesitation on the threshold. She glanced at the bed and me, seemed to steel herself and stepped into the room. Little sixteen-year-old Meg became the second girl I had without resource to the ring. "You liked watching Elizabeth. Is that how you wish it?" I asked.
"No Lord Northam, you've no need to tear my clothing," she said.
"Jeremy, my dear Meg," I told her.
"Jeremy," she said smiling. "I think more like yesterday for me. I am apprehensive I find."
"Understandable. I was myself the first time." I took her into my arms and we kissed. She was naïve of sex, even kissing. I could tell as my tongue touched her lips that she was surprised. But she followed and quickly found her pleasure as I kissed her.
I began to undress her and myself. As I undressed myself, she took over and undressed herself. Soon, we were both in our natural state. She stood, with one hand over her breasts, quite nice they were, and one over her pudenda. My cock stood proud and her eyes were held by it.
I led her to the bed and gently pulled her onto it. I began kissing her again. Her hands left their role as protector and soon began holding me, pulling me against her body, now hot with passion. Having just read the French book, I was determined to apply its lessons. I began kissing her breasts, which hardened and blushed under such attention. Kissing further down, I came to her forest, lighter in color and thinner than her cousin's.
As I kissed her thighs, Meg watched wide-eyed my approach to her sex, then shuddered as I directed my tongue against her. "Oh Lord," she huffed as I attacked her fortress. Her hips began to quiver then hunch up no longer under her control. "You did this not with Elizabeth."
"I saved it for you, enjoy it," I said and ran my tongue over her sex. I noted that she seemed to jump whenever my tongue was over a bump near the top of her sex. I gave it concerted attention and the effect on Meg was amazing. Quickly, she was thrashing about on the bed, her hips bouncing so that I had to take both hands to keep myself in contact with her. She flooded with her arousal and my face was awash in her spendings. I knew then why these French books were so popular if they could make a woman so wanton with passion.
"I need you Jeremy," Meg cried out. Not one to disappoint a lady in such a circumstance, I quickly applied myself to the task and was buried deeply in her. Our congress was wild and fast, my own state affected by the wild abandon of Meg.
Our bodies were soon bathed in sweat as we frantically sought completion. I was first, shouting as I flooded the dear girl with my seed. When she felt the surge, she too attained her climax, crying out as I slowed then stopped. She continued pressing up against me as my staff shrank until it fell out. I collapsed beside the girl drained and happy.
This was a pleasant time. I had no need of the ring the next time I asked Mary Bennett to join me. Meg and Elizabeth were always eager for my visit. If Elizabeth happened to be away visiting someone, Meg would escort me to the garden and take her cousin's place in our games in the garden. If Elizabeth was home, I'd have at it with her. I was never disappointed in visits to the Woodhouse Mansion.
I had resort to the power of the ring once again with Harriet. On the mention of a second tryst, Harriet remained cold until I brought to bear the power of the ring. I think she was still too young to be quite brave enough to follow me. But on the third mention of a meeting, she acceded without the ring's power, her eyes alight with an inner fire that our previous meetings had created inside her.
I have vowed to tell the truth, and the truth shines with its own inner splendor, perfect only when whole. Changing a single thought would corrupt this manuscript. Therefore, I will recount what occurred as well as my poor memory may permit, changing nothing, and letting the reader decide the severity of my faults, which all men have. I am simply the conduit through which the past speaks to the present.
I now come to a passage that I wish I could write in a different manner. But I cannot. For the truth shines with its own crystalline purity and only with the truth may one purify his spirit. I must tell what happened as it happened and let my shame be exposed. I will tell you gentle reader, I have suffered from my actions. Perhaps not as much as those recounted herein, but for far longer as they are dust and I go on, recounting my own transgressions and wishing them different, a curse of a long life.
And so I had my little quartet. And it continued into the autumn. As the leaves began to fall, I had a visit from Mr. Bennett. It seems that Mary had come with child. And though I had admonished her not to speak of our first time under the spell of the ring, I had not placed such admonition the many other times. She had told her father that I had my way with her and was the father of her now expected child.
He was angry, but not as angry as one might expect. His concern was that I do the right thing, that is marry Mary. I consoled him and said I was a gentleman and understood exactly what was expected.
It was at this point that I did not live up to being a gentleman. In a bit of a state, I determined to escape the trap into which I had placed myself. The ring! I bent my powers to the ring determined to change the mind of old Bennett away from pursuing the idea of marriage. I felt the power of the ring reach out as I directed it... to find nothing. It was as if there was no other mind in the room for it to influence. Defeated, I gave up the attempt realizing that my Uncle had been explicit; the ring had power over the mind of women.
(Editor's Note: While such information was unknown to Lord Northam, we now know that the brains of men and women are fundamentally different in structure and operation. Researcher Sandra Witelson has written that gross physical differences by gender of a brain are discernable by simply looking at the brain, the anatomy of male and female brains being as different as it is for the sex organs. "What is astonishing to me," Witelson has said, "is that it is so obvious that there are sex differences in the brain and these are likely to be translated into some cognitive differences, because the brain helps us think and feel and move and act. Yet there is a large segment of the population that wants to pretend this is not true." So it is perhaps not surprising that the ring might only be efficacious on one gender.)
We shared a sherry while I pondered how I could now escape as I had no magical way out of this trap, a trap I had most assuredly places myself in. Mr. Bennett was quite content now that I had said I knew my duty and he went home. I had never thought of such a likelihood. I had supposed the ring was magic but it was not magical in that way. It did not protect me from the folly of my course. I had made the girl with child and the ring did not prevent it. I did not sleep that night.
The next day, it was the news of the county. Elizabeth and Meg met me coldly. Harriet was not allowed to visit. I knew things had changed and not for the best for poor Lord Northam.
I took such ready cash as I had in the Manor and took the coward's way out of this horrible situation. With bare essentials and a few clothes, I mounted my best steed and set forth to the coast. I arrived two days later and embarked with my horse on a small boat and crossed the channel for France. As the craft bobbed on the waves of the channel I looked back at England, home no more. I shed tears that morning, tears of loss and tears of regret. As England grew smaller and faded into the mists of the channel, France grew larger and more distinct. It would be long before I would see my home again.
It was in the middle of the eighteenth century of Our Lord's Providence that I found myself in a strange country. I had learned some of the language, but had never spoken it with a native of that land. The language I had learned was the language of the learned. The peasants I encountered during my first days on the continent seemed to be speaking gibberish, so different was it from the bookish tongue I had essayed. But, as it should be, my exposure to the vernacular of the region quickly sharpened my ear and I began to be able to understand and converse with the French peasant.
So I made my way to Paris, the center of France, and perhaps the center of Europe in those days. The Louis' ruled in a splendor unmatched since the times of the great Roman Emperors.
Paris hardly noticed the presence of a minor English Lord. I found quarters on the Ile de Cité not far from the famous Cathedral of Notre Dame. There was a fine patisserie on the ground floor operated by a widow, Madame Reynard, and her daughter, Lisette. I admit that Lisette, an attractive young woman of fifteen or sixteen, caught my fancy. They lived behind the shop. I took the second floor for my abode.
Once I had a permanent address, I immediately sent off a letter to England and arranged for funds to be available to me. I was amazed to find out that the money could be deposited in a bank in England and drawn upon through letters of credit in a bank in France. This seemed to me almost magical as the money never left England, or so I believed at the time.
With my finances secure, I set out to learn of France. I attended plays and the opera, the rage in Paris. I walked the Boulevards and let myself find the pace of the French, much more relaxed than the English. Walking the Boulevards I also found those women whose charms were available for small recompense. In short, I found all my wants satisfied.
You may wonder why I did not use the power of the ring to persuade these low women to do willingly what I had to pay to obtain. First, I remembered my Uncle's warning to use its power wisely or it would turn against me. When I considered using it on these fallen women, I kept seeing my Uncle's face in death. I took this omen seriously. Second, I obtained their willing service for coppers, nothing really. These women were so poor that they gave their virtue for the price of a loaf of bread and that might be the only food they obtained that day. The money meant nothing to me compared to the pleasure.
Bess
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