Chapter 1: Visiting An Old Friend

Arthur, 7^th Earl, Dunrossiter, mounted his stallion and took the reins from the groom. He checked to see that the brace of pistols was seated firmly, and that his saber was nestled neatly along his leg, then set out down the lane to the gate. He never considered himself in any danger; if the worthless bog Irish peasants decided to start any trouble, he was perfectly content in finishing it.

Earl Dunrossiter was pleasantly sated as he loped through the green countryside. He had spent the morning whoring and fornicating with a pair of the scullery maids, a buxom pair of sisters who needed the miniscule wages he paid to help support their families. He had particularly enjoyed taking Sadie in the arse viciously, luxuriating in her whimpering tears of pain while her sister Mary, crying as he lightly caned her supple buttocks, was forced to use her mouth on her own sister’s cunny. He had so enjoyed it that after he had spent, he had forced the two girls to revive his large and soiled manhood with their mouths, then had made them reverse positions and repeated the process. Afterwards he had lunched with his sons, then had departed.

It was a pleasant hour’s ride from the estate, up the valley and across the ridge to Sir Dunston’s small manor. He knew that Sir Dunston was old and rarely left home anymore, so that he was almost assured that the gentleman would be home. Riding up to the manor house, he climbed down and tossed the reins to the groom that scurried forth, then announced himself to Sir Dunston’s English butler.

Earl Dunrossiter’s visit was an annual occurrence, and he followed the butler into the manor, waiting in the foyer until he was admitted. Moments later, he was ushered into the parlor, where Sir Dunston was rising from his armchair.

“Sit down, sit down, Malcolm. No need to get up on my account,” said Arthur.

Sir Malcolm Dunston managed to slowly climb to his feet, and said, “Welcome, Arthur. Pleasant ride?”

“Perfectly fine, Malcolm. Now do sit down, please.” He went around to Sir Dunston’s side and allowed the much older man to rest a frail arm on his wrist and lower himself back into the chair.

The butler came in and poured both men a glass of sherry, then left. Dunston smiled at his old friend and said, “I suspect I know what you are doing here today. You’ve come to inquire whether I will sell my lands to you, eh?”

Dunrossiter smiled back benignly. “Malcolm, can’t I simply be here visiting an old and dear friend?” Dunston simply gave him a knowing smile, and Dunrossiter continued, “Well, can’t that be one reason? Yes, I’m here to make my annual pilgrimage, to make sure you know I want these lands. I don’t want you selling them off on me before I get my say in, what?”

“Not while I’m alive,” said Dunston with a smile. “Although who knows how long that will be, eh. After all, my three score and ten was a few years ago.”

“Nonsense, Malcolm, you’ll dance on my grave! I just feel that you’d be more comfortable living in London, away from these foul Irish bogs.”

“Bah! I have no interest in being anywhere near court, thank you. I’ll live out my days here. Why, even my granddaughter is coming back here. Now there’s an idea...”

Dunrossiter looked at his host, hiding his disappointment. He needed these lands for water rights and pasture. If Dunston would move off them, he’d have been happy to pay through the nose. His children had died several years ago. What was this about a grandchild? Now he’d never get the estate! “Eh, what was that?” he asked in confusion.

“My granddaughter, she’s moving back here from London. She’s been living with my sister since she was a little girl and is of a marrying age. You marry her, and you’ll get the lands eventually,” he said with a smile.

“Bah on you, now, Malcolm. I’ve already buried two wives; I have no interest in a third. When is she due?” Dunrossiter began turning the possibilities over in his head. Provided that the girl never produced an heir of her own, then his sons would inherit Dunston’s lands without question, and what better way to ensure that than by marrying the girl himself. “When does she arrive? You should have a ball in her honor.”