Desire and Despair: Book 3 of Poacher's Progress
Chapter 22: More Weddings, More Pleasure

Copyright© 2014 by Jack Green

Historical Sex Story: Chapter 22: More Weddings, More Pleasure - Jack Greenaway's pathway to happiness is strewn with obstacles: a plagiarized novel and his sister's infatuation with a Romantic poet; an old, 15th century, law; a white lady in Brussels and a Black Guard at Chateau Blanchard; attendance at weddings - and funerals; going undercover in Manchester, and helping to foil an assassination plot. He overcomes these difficulties and his future looks assured until a blast from his past causes catastrophe.

Caution: This Historical Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Drunk/Drugged   Heterosexual   Historical   Tear Jerker   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Lactation   Slow   Violence   Prostitution   Military  

I used another two of the sovereigns from my money belt to obtain seats for Samuel and myself on the night mail coach to London.

"Do I continue to call you 'Samuel', or should I revert to your former name of Patrick?" I asked as we made our journey south.

"I was born Samuel Braithwaite, and feel I should honour my birth parents by retaining the name. However, I owe much to my adoptive parents and should also honour their name." He pondered silently for a second or two. "Then there is Matilde to consider. She fell in love with Patrick Jane, and might not be so enamoured with Samuel Braithwaite, a more plebeian title."

"I'm sure she will love and adore you whatever name you call yourself." I left him to his deliberations and went to sleep.

I also had been put into something of a dilemma, nothing to do with names but concerning the forthcoming wedding of Patrick/Samuel to Matilde. He wanted me to act as his groomsman while she wanted me to give her away in lieu of her father, who had been killed at Austerlitz in 1805.

"As Matilde's guardian you are the obvious person to give her away." John Stafford remarked, after I had voiced my quandary to him in his office, two days after my return from Manchester. Actually, Matilde attained her majority on the day of her wedding and legally would no longer be my ward, but that didn't solve the problem.
I had handed Stafford a full report concerning the time spent with Cato and his gang, finishing with my eye witness account of the events in St Peter's Field.
He read it, shaking his head and tut tutting at the role played by the local magistrates in the 'massacre'. He finished reading and placed the papers on his desk.

"This is an excellent report, which I will send on to the Home Office, where it will be completely ignored." He gave a sigh of resignation. "Lord Sidmouth wrote to the Chief Magistrate of Manchester congratulating him on the action he and his fellow magistrates took to deal with 'the insurrection', as he calls it. The Tories are rushing a Bill through Parliament which, among other measures, will prevent public meetings of more than fifty people without the permission of a magistrate. In fact they are fuelling the fire of radicalism by their more repressive actions." He shook his head. "I fear it will get worse before it gets better." He face brightened with a happy thought, "but no more gloom; your beautiful ward is soon to be married to Patrick Jane None but the brave deserve the fair, and Patrick is not only brave but extremely intelligent."

Matilde and Patrick were attending a concert that evening, with Madame Bovary acting as chaperone, so thus it was Violette seated across from me at the dinner table.

She too was preparing for her wedding, set for the day after Matilde's ceremony, and both to be celebrated in the Church of St Ursula in Valenciennes.
We had finished eating, and were each taking a small glass of sherry, when Violette surprised me with a request. "Would you do me the honour of giving me away at my wedding, Major Greenaway?"
I had been pondering on the dilemma of who to act for at Matilde's wedding and was quite taken aback by her appeal.

"Surely your father will perform that duty?"

"My parents are not pleased by my choice of a husband, not that they have met Henri, but they wanted me to marry a silversmith's son." She sniffed in disdain. "Not only is the man an obnoxious bully and a womaniser, but the marriage is solely to cement a business partnership between my family and his. My opinion was not sought."

"I'm afraid not many females enjoy the luxury of choosing their own partners, but I'm sure your parents have your best interests at heart."
She snorted in derision. "Their interests start and finish with money. I am merely a commodity, just like my sister, who is shackled to a man older than our father but who owns a silversmith's shop. Her husband is a cruel despot who beats her because of his failure to, ah, " she blushed a delicious shade of pink " well, let us say because of his inability to carry out his marital duty."

"I have already been asked by Matilde to give her away, and by Patrick to act as his groomsman. Much as I would be honoured to help you I cannot do all, so would rather do neither."
Violette considered for a moment. "If Matilde and I held a joint marriage ceremony you could give Matilde and me away together. Henri is having his cousin to be his groomsman. Doesn't Patrick have a cousin, Roland? Surely he would be the next best person to do the job if you are unavailable?"

Violette Crozier possessed hidden depths, and once she became Madame Thierry the Younger Henri and his mother would not know what hit them.
I could see her not only running Henri's life but probably also his business, while his mother would be relegated to a minor role, both in Henri's life and in the family home.
When Matilde returned later that evening I told her of Violette's suggestion. She clapped her hands in glee. "It will be perfect to be married at the same time as Violette. She is as a sister to me, and Roland would be good company for Emma Bovary, who is also invited." She gave one of her salacious grins. "Those two were extremely close when we stayed at Conquest House, almost as one you might say, and in fact they often became one entity ... with two backs."

"What about Baron d'Abbeville? Will he not be discomfited by having Roland, err ... monopolising Madame Bovary?" I was somewhat concerned as to what might happen at the wedding if noses were put out of joint.

"Emma regards Gerard more as a father, and he regards her as a daughter." Again she flashed a lascivious grin. "Besides which, the baron prefers females much younger than Emma. Several housemaids at Conquest House found the old gentleman to be extremely energetic, active, and surprisingly inventive, when it comes to the sharing of sausage."
Baron d'Abbeville always maintained he was well beyond the age of enjoying the pleasures of the flesh, and his requests for the Cambrai cheese, which I brought him each time I visited Château Blanchard, were for the piquancy of the taste rather than for their reputed aphrodisiac properties, or so he told me. It seemed the old goat was still sharing his sausage, with his vigour enhanced by Cambrai cheeses.


"Will you, Patrick Samuel Jane- Braithwaite, take Matilde Desiree Gance to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth..."
Well, at least the naming of the groom resolved one problem, although I noted in the marriage register entry 'Jane' was now spelled 'Jayne'.
The Curé of the Church of St Ursula in Valenciennes comducted the sevice in English, even if Patrick/Samuel spoke good French. It was a reflection of how courteous and friendly the locals were to us 'rosbifs', although there were not too many English at the ceremony, or rather ceremonies.
Violette Crozier and Henri Thierry stood next to Patrick and Matilde, each pair flanked by their respective groomsman, with me, as the person 'giving away' both brides, in the centre. There were also Maids of Honour: Matilde had her cousins Mimi and Chloe Renoir, while Violette had Molly March and Domina, the dark skinned Bermudian girl. I may be slightly biased, but I have never seen more attractive and alluring females gathered in any one place than those at that wedding.
Matilde and Violette, extremely comely young women at the best of times, glowed with the extra radiance brides possess. Chloe and Mimi, both shapely, and graceful females, also glowed with happiness. For the first time I saw Molly March not as the pickpocketing tatterdemalion urchin I first encountered on a London street, but as a bewitching, fascinating female. Her companion Domina was equally appealing, coupled with the exotic, and all the young men, and not a few older ones, had their eyes fixed on the desirable pair. In the congregation sat Emma Bovary, another captivating temptress, and alongside her my own dear sweet beautiful Caroline. I turned and caught her eye, and her smile made her even more adorable.

I had been rather apprehensive the day before the weddings when Rob Crawshay pulled the carriage to a stop at Château Blanchard. The two most important women in my life, the one I was to marry and the one who had saved my life, were about to meet for the first time.
I handed Caroline down from the coach, and Mimi, standing at the top of the chateau steps, dropped a small curtsey.

"Welcome to Chateau Blanchard, Milady Caroline." She said in English.

Caroline walked up to Mimi and curtsied in return. "Thank you, Chatelaine Mimi, I have looked forward to this meeting since learning it was you who saved Elijah's life." She spoke in French, and then both women hugged each other and exchanged kisses – not the usual kisses on the cheek but on each other's lips.
Molly stepped down from the coach holding John-Jarvis, and Mimi went over to him making cooing sounds, and kissed his head. Jean-Woodrow was brought out onto the steps by his nursemaid, and Caroline clucked over him and kissed him. Then she and Mimi walked arm in arm into the château, chatting together and each admiring the other's child, leaving Rob and I to bring in the luggage.

Patrick and Matilde were going on the Grand Tour directly from the wedding ceremony, but first they would return to the chateau to load the carriage Patrick had engaged as their transport with the clothes Matilde had gathered together – a lot of clothes. Eventually the coach was loaded, and it was time to say goodbye. Patrick shook my hand while Matilde kissed her cousins and Caroline. She then came and kissed me. "Adieu, Jacques," she whispered in my ear "You have been a wonderful guardian, friend and lover. I shall miss you, but I know we will always be friends." I nodded, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking.
As the coach rolled away I felt tears trickling down my cheek. Caroline squeezed my hand. "Think of it as not so much as losing a daughter but of gaining a son, Elijah." I laughed, and kissed her warmly. "I'm thinking that in less than three months time I will be gaining a son, and a wife."


"Will you, Elijah John Greenaway, take Caroline Adelaide Ashford Braxton-Clark, to be your lawful wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth..."

With the number of weddings attended in the past year I could have probably conduct the ceremony myself, and my mind wandered somewhat as I listened to the Vicar of Holy Cross church in Bearsted as he went through the marriage service.

 
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