Chapter 11: Moira

Tony and Anita were sitting at a late breakfast when the maid came in and gushed out the news.

“I just heard it from the Cartwicks’ driver, Miss Heyworth. Lord Brougham’s son was killed in a duel this morning! And before the eyes of his father! What a tragedy! I better brush out your black dress. Will you be going to the funeral?”

“I guess I have to, at least for his poor wife’s sake,” Anita answered, but the maid was already rushing out, probably to relay the gossip to other acquaintances. Anita looked at Tony.

“Thank God. I am glad that you won’t have to kill him.”

“It is hard to say for me whether I am glad or disappointed. I am glad for the other man whose life was spared.”

“Now stop that, Tony. Killing him yourself would not have changed anything. You don’t have to redeem yourself.”

“You’re right I suppose.”

“Of course I am,” Anita answered archly. “Now, I’ll be attending the funeral as a friend of Harriet’s. I suggest you’ll attend it, too, to accompany me.”

“Is that necessary?”

“I think so. You won’t have that many chances to express your sympathy and regret to Harriet. She is in mourning, and she will have little or no social contacts in the next three months. The funeral will be the only chance for you to show her that you know the truth now. It will mean a lot to her, I assure you.”

“But his family will be there.”

“So they will. But Lord Brougham is really a very kind gentleman whose only fault was overindulgence in his eldest son. Plus, he’s a Lord of the Admiralty. It cannot hurt you to express your sympathy to him and Lady Brougham.”

Tony relented. They both organised the necessary items of clothing for the funeral during the next morning. Tony discovered that clothes of mourning were stocked by tailors, simply because death could strike suddenly with no time for relatives to have clothes made to fit.

When they joined the mourners on the Chapel Hill Cemetery the next morning, Tony was surprised at how few people showed.

“He seems to have had very few friends,” he murmured to Anita out of the corner of his mouth lest somebody overheard him.

“I pity old Lord Brougham,” Anita whispered back.

Indeed, his Lordship kept looking about as if to conjure more people to the grave site. Just then, Sir Richard Lambert and is wife arrived, joining their daughter. Lord Brougham sighed once and gave the parson a nod to commence the ceremony.

Afterwards, when they offered their condolences to the family, Tony made sure that he looked straight into Harriet’s eyes. He had worded his piece carefully, so not to cause raised eyebrows among the rest of the family.

“Mrs. Palmer, please accept my condolences. I deeply regret what happened and I only wish I could have helped.”

He felt the hand he held tremble slightly when she thanked him. He had to move on because the next person was in line behind him.

Anita and Tony only stayed shortly at the reception in Lord Brougham’s mansion. Anita had to perform in the evening, and Tony needed to return to Portsmouth. Therefore, when he left her that evening, he bade farewell. They kissed, but that kiss conveyed more than anything else that their relationship was changing. Anita was withdrawn, and she wished him farewell more like a friend than a lover.

Not many of Rupert’s friends showed at his funeral. After all, his old regiment was being shipped to Sicily, and to be honest, he didn’t have many friends to begin with. His younger brother, Commander James Palmer, was at sea, but the youngest brother, Edward, was there to support his parents. True to her word, Harriet acted the mourning widow, supported by Lucy Gutteridge. Both were in shapeless black dresses, and Harriet wore a black veil.

Lord Brougham and his wife were deeply saddened, but for different reasons. While Lady Brougham simply mourned her first born, Lord Brougham was feeling failure on his part. He did not know when and where Rupert had strayed, but he felt the responsibility. Looking around, he was also saddened that so few of those friends who had so readily helped his son to spend his allowance cared to show at his funeral.

There were surprises, though. Of all people, Anita Heyworth was there, at the arm of an unknown Navy captain. She stood close to the widow to support her. When the chaplain had said his piece and the choir had sung their songs, the Palmers stood to receive the condolences. Anita Heyworth was one of the last to step forward, not being related and no close friend of the deceased, either.

“Milady, milord, my deeply felt sympathy! Harriet, dear, I am so sorry for you!”

She hugged the widow. Anita’s companion was next.

“I am Captain Sir Anthony Carter, milord. Miss Heyworth asked me to accompany her. May I express my deeply felt sympathy for your loss?”

“Thank you, Sir Anthony,” Lord Brougham replied. “This is very kind of you.”

The captain turned to Harriet.

“Mrs. Palmer, please accept my condolences. I deeply regret what happened to you. I only wish I could have helped.”

Harriet’s mind whirled. The double meaning in his words was too obvious. Anita must have told him. He sounded sincere, though. Could he really forgive her?

“Thank you, Sir Anthony. Your words mean a lot to me,” she answered in a small voice.

Already, the next person stood in line to deliver the appropriate phrases, and Anthony Carter had to move.

After the funeral, there was a short reception at Lord Brougham’s residence. Lord Brougham had asked Anita to come too, and she dragged poor Tony along with her. Under the convenient cover of her black veil, Harriet watched Tony and Anita. She could tell that they were at ease with each other, intimate like old friends and showing their mutual affection. At least, that was what Harriet felt.

But why had Anita told him? Why had she made Tony understand what had really happened to Harriet? There could be but one explanation. Anita must plan to engage in a serious relationship with Tony, and she wanted him to be at peace with her friend Harriet. But how could she expect Harriet to play along? Didn’t she understand that it was torture for her to see Tony with another woman, even if that woman happened to be her best friend?

Just then, Anita approached her.

“Harriet, dear, I am really sorry, but I need to go. Lord knows I am in no mood for comedy today, but I need to perform tonight.” She hugged Harriet and continued in a whisper. “I shall visit you tomorrow afternoon. We need to talk, darling, and in private.”

She left with Tony, leaving an even more bewildered Harriet. She, too, retired to her house, not long after that, claiming exhaustion. The servants stood in line with the butler in the lead, offering their condolences.

Harriet had a hard time keeping her emotions to herself. She dismissed the servants for the rest of the day, asking only her personal servants to stay and help her.

Together with Lucy she sat in the tea room. For the first time, she felt no apprehension. Together they talked about the next days and what to do first. They were astonished when the butler, Toller, entered.

“Madam, I am most sorry to interrupt, but I need your decision on what to do with your late husband’s private study.”

“What about it?” Harriet asked, somewhat puzzled.

“Well, Madam, to be perfectly honest, Mr. Palmer has not given me any orders, but I think you may want me to clear things up before his Lordship gets to see the study. I fear it may disturb his Lordship.”

“I still do not understand what it is you are talking about, Toller. Would you care to elaborate?”

“Madam, the Honourable Rupert has an extensive collection of prints and books. The artefacts may be found offensive by many people, and I know his Lordship to be one of them.”

Harriet sighed. “You may be right, Toller, but I need to see for myself of what we are talking. I would feel bad if they were true pieces of art. Show me the room, then.”

“Madam, I must object! Those artefacts are not fit for a lady to see.”

“That would be for me to decide, Toller. Unless you want me to tell his Lordship that you were my husband’s accomplice in the collection of these items?”

The butler squirmed. He had been listening into conversations often enough to know that Lord Brougham would not deny his daughter in law any wish. Having a butler run out of the house would not require a moment’s hesitation. He therefore bowed and showed the two women the way to Rupert’s study.

It was a very pretty room, Harriet decided with surprise. The bookshelves went all the way to the ceiling. Two of the walls were covered with prints in expensive frames. She immediately recognised a full set of Hogarth prints, Marriage à la Mode. Her suspicion was roused immediately. That’s what this rascal of a butler had planned, she thought. He could have cleared a tidy sum of money from the sale of the Hogarth prints alone.

“I shall use this study myself,” she declared. “I shall sort through the items and decide what to destroy and what to keep. Hand me the keys to this room, Toller!”

The butler complied with a sour expression on his face.

“You may withdraw, Toller,” Harriet dismissed him.

When the butler had closed the door, Harriet and Lucy began their investigation in earnest. The prints on the walls were all very tasteful. There was a series of nudes that Harriet decided should not be displayed in a dining hall, but she was surprised at Rupert’s taste. At least, until they found the large drawer under the desk that was standing at one window.

Harriet blushed deeply when she pulled the first print from the drawer. It showed a satyr who penetrated a naked woman from behind. The print showed every detail of the bodies. It was certainly excellent craftsmanship on the part of the artist. She handed the print to Lucy.

“Oh my,” Lucy giggled, “this looks like fun.”

Harriet had to smile in spite of herself. The next print, however, made her gasp. It showed the satyr and the woman with the satyr’s head buried between the woman’s legs. The woman reciprocated by licking the satyr’s member. Suddenly, Harriet remembered her one and only night with Tony Carter. He, too, had licked her between her legs and she had taken his member into her mouth.

“Harriet, what is it?” Lucy’s voice penetrated the mist of her memory.

Suddenly, Harriet realised that her cheeks were tear-streaked. She collected herself and plastered a rueful grin on her face.

“I’m afraid, this one got to me,” she said. Then she looked into Lucy’s eyes and decided to be honest. “This is how Tony and I made love once.”

“Really,” Lucy gasped, “he did that for you? How did it feel?”

Harriet blushed even more. “It was the most delicious feeling I ever had. In the end, I fainted.”

“And did you, you know, take his ... thing ... into your mouth?”

Harriet nodded. She knew her face was beet-red.

“I took Andrew’s once, too,” Lucy admitted. “And did he like it! It was good for me, too. He lasted much longer when he horsed me afterwards.”

“Lucy!” Harriet was shocked.

“What? You know that Andrew and I did not just hold hands.”

“Didn’t it hurt, Lucy?”

“Not with Andrew. He wasn’t my first, after all. No, it is wonderful when your lover fills you. I hated it with the prison guards, but with Andrew it was right, because I love him.” She looked at Harriet’s teary face. “Oh no, your poor lamb! Here I babble about how wonderful it is, and you had to endure this horrible man. Believe me, Harriet, once you find the right man, you will love it, too.”

Harriet nodded. “Let us look at the rest.”

Lucy nodded. “Good idea!”

They examined the content of the drawer, print after print. Some were conventional, some were extraordinary. Pointing at one picture that showed a man with his member inside a woman’s arse, Lucy groaned.

“Ouch, that must have hurt! One of those damned prison guards put his thing in there. I am telling you, never again!”

Harriet looked at her friend. “I cannot understand how you manage to talk about these things so openly. You say it hurt. Don’t you hate those memories?”

Lucy pondered that question.

“I suppose it is because I had time to overcome those experiences. Then I found people who showed me how wonderful it is to make love.”

“My brother?” Harriet could not help but ask.

“Yes, Andrew, but before him there was Clarissa.”

“The Clarissa?” Harriet asked.

“Yes. It began when she tried to comfort me. But then we just carried on. Hey, you said you had your quim licked, didn’t you?”

“Yes, but...”

“No but, Harriet. A woman’s tongue can do the same thing, don’t you think? Clarissa was so loving and caring, I really felt love for her. And to lick her was exciting, too. Giving and taking, you know.”

“I still cannot believe you! Maybe, we should lock up the room and go to our quarters.”

Silently, they closed the room and went to Harriet’s sitting room. They had a small supper there, but their silence continued. When the table had been cleared, Lucy looked at Harriet and bit her lower lip.

“Harriet, do you want me to leave?”

“Why?”

“Well, I make you feel uncomfortable, don’t I? What I told you has shocked you.”

“I admit that you shocked me, Lucy. It was unexpected. I never thought you preferred women is all.”

“But I don’t, Harriet,” Lucy exclaimed, “I love being with Andrew. Only when I am lonely, I like the comfort of being with another person. Do you think I am bad, Harriet?”

“Lucy, no!” Harried cried and rushed around the table to embrace her friend. “You are not bad. I am still your friend. Nothing has changed.”

Lucy hugged her back fiercely, tears flowing from her eyes whilst she smiled.

“Oh, thank God! I thought I had ruined our friendship. Thank you, dear!” In her relief, she kissed Harriet on her lips. “You know that I love you, Harriet, don’t you?”

Harriet swallowed. “I love you too, Lucy.”

Hesitantly, Harriet moved her face forward to kiss Lucy back. She had meant to give her friend a chaste kiss on the lips, but once their mouths touched, Harriet felt a dam break inside her. For minutes, the two young women stood and tasted each others lips. There was no overt passion in their kisses. Both were content to just touch their lips. When they finished their kiss, Lucy again hugged Harriet fiercely. Harriet could not help but feel the pressure of Lucy’s proud bosom against her own slender form. She felt strangely comforted in her friend’s embrace.

“Lucy?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Please don’t misunderstand me, but would you mind sharing my bed tonight? Feeling you beside me would really make me comfortable.”

“Certainly, Harriet. I’d love that. Why don’t you prepare for bed, and I’ll join you later?”

Harriet nodded, and Lucy went into her own bedroom. She changed out of her dress and stays. After short deliberation, Lucy decided to undress completely before she put on her nightshirt. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she noticed that her breasts and erect nipples showed clearly under the fabric. She bunched her nightshirt around her waist and, content with the image she presented, blew a playful kiss to her mirror image. She decided to apply some perfume, too, and she opened her hair and let her blonde curls flood over her shoulders. Nodding with approval, she went through the small hallway towards Harriet’s bedroom and knocked. When she heard no answer, she opened the door hesitantly.

By the light of a single candle, she could see Harriet in bed already. Her glorious, strawberry blonde hair was open and framed her head. Looking up at Lucy, Harriet patted the right side of her bed to invite her friend in. Lucy walked around the bed and slipped under the covers. She had hardly settled down when Harriet blew out the remaining candle, and the room became pitch black.

“I can’t see you,” Lucy whispered and felt her way to her left until her hand touched Harriet’s arm. “You want to hold my hand?”

She could feel Harriet turning towards her. Lucy opened her arms and embraced her friend who cuddled against her. To her delight, Lucy felt that Harriet, too, was naked under her nightshirt. Moving her hand down her friend’s back, she felt bare buttocks under the thin fabric. Harriet pressed into her even more and Lucy took the cue. She found Harriet’s mouth in the dark and pressed her lips against her friend’s. Harriet’s lips opened slightly, and with a feeling of excitement, Lucy let her tongue slip in between.

Harriet felt lightheaded. Lucy’s breasts, now unrestricted, were pressed against her own chest, and she could feel the erect nipples through the two thin layers of fabric. Her own nipples were painfully erect, too, and she began to rub her chest against Lucy’s bosom. Her tongue now duelled with Lucy’s invading tongue, and Harriet felt deliciously naughty. Reaching down with her left hand, she felt Lucy’s naked calf and let her hand slide up under the shirt, until she felt her friend’s naked buttocks. She stroked the smooth butt cheek and elicited a moan from Lucy. Encouraged, Harriet let her hand explore the cleft between the globes of Lucy’s behind until she found her friend’s juicy slit.

Breaking the kiss, Lucy tried to see her friend’s face.

“Are you sure that you never dallied with another woman?”

“Mmh, I’m sure. Do you mind my touch?”

“Heavens, no, you do fine, believe me. Harriet, would you take off your shirt?”

“Only if you take off yours, too,” Harriet whispered, hardly believing her own words.

Quickly, both women slipped their shirts over their heads and resumed their embrace.

“You feel wonderful,” Lucy whispered.

Moving down, she kissed Harriet’s throat before she began to explore Harriet’s pert left breast with her tongue. She circled the areola for a while, and when she suddenly licked the protruding nipple with her rigid tongue, she heard a sharp intake of breath. Smiling inwardly, she began to attack her friend’s breast with vigour, much to Harriet’s delight, as she could tell from the small cries. Meanwhile, Lucy’s hand had found another target, rubbing Harriet’s vulva in small circles. When Harriet’s hips began to undulate in response, Lucy moved her head down between her friend’s legs. Slowly and carefully, she inserted a finger into the young woman’s tight opening and twisted her hand until she found the rough spot inside. Harriet’s hips jerked upwards, nearly breaking Lucy’s nose who uttered a little cry of surprise and pain.

“I’m sorry, Lucy,” Harriet stammered in an embarrassed whisper, “what are you doing to me?”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. You just surprised me, darling,” Lucy assured her. Lucy resumed the penetration, adding another finger. Then she placed her flat tongue right on Harriet’s protruding clitoris. Pressing down with her mouth, she controlled the spasmodic jerks of Harriet’s hips and began to lick her slick nether lips in steady, rhythmic strokes whilst her fingers moved in and out of the tight love canal. This combined assault soon produced the desired effect, for Harriet went rigid, clamping her thighs around Lucy’s head. When the spasms stopped, Harriet went limp.

With a satisfied chuckle, Lucy scooted up to her friend’s face and kissed her. For the second time in her life, Harriet tasted her own juices.

“That was awesome, Lucy,” Harriet sighed. “May I kiss your breasts? They feel wonderful against mine, but I’d love to taste them.”

“Yes, kiss me!”, Lucy answered.

Harriet moved on top of her friend and began to caress her full breasts. Lucy moaned when Harriet found the nipples with her mouth and hands. Tentatively, Harriet let one of her hand wander down Lucy’s body and between her legs. Lucy pressed her body against the probing hand to encourage Harriet. Using her flat hand against Lucy’s mound and moving it in small circles, Harriet increased her friend’s arousal. Then she let two fingers glide into the slippery channel, all the while keeping her mouth busy on Lucy’s breasts. The buxom blonde’s breathing became laboured, and her lower body moved in harmony with Harriet’s ministrations.

Suddenly, Harriet had the idea to rub her pubes against Lucy’s. She lifted her friend’s right leg up against her own torso and scooted forward with her hips, until her pussy lips met those of Lucy. She began a grinding motion against her friend, increasing her speed while her arousal mounted, until she felt the blond girl go rigid. She fiercely hugged the uplifted leg and pressed her own sex against Lucy’s, riding the waves of a new release. When her lust ebbed, her motions became less urgent, and she finally released her grip on Lucy’s leg. Both young women lay side by side whilst their breathing calmed, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

When they awoke, the morning sun sent rays of light between the curtains. Looking at each other’s dishevelled appearance, they giggled like schoolgirls. Lucy found her nightshirt and pulled it over her head, making herself presentable. Then she tossed Harriet’s shirt over to her friend. It was none too early because the chambermaid knocked with the breakfast tea not five minutes later. By this time, Lucy had opened the windows and the fresh morning air had replaced the heady smell of last night’s lovemaking.

After breakfast, both young women dressed. During breakfast, a thought had formed in Harriet’s mind, and she called for the coach to be readied. In vain, Lucy tried to learn their destination. It was only when they stood in front of a modest house in one of the better streets of the East Side that Lucy realised whom they were paying a visit. An elderly woman opened the door to their knocking and asked for their business. She was obviously surprised by the view of a widow in deep mourning.

“I am Harriet Palmer, and this is my good friend, Miss Lucy Gutteridge. I would like to speak to Miss Moira McTaggart, please.”

“Miss McTaggart does not see visitors, Madam,” came the hostile answer.

“But I need to speak to her. I shan’t take more than a few minutes.”

“I shall ask the Major,” the woman said and let Harriet and Lucy step into the entrance hall.

The house was modest, dark and cold, and it smelled of illness. After a few minutes, they heard the thumping sound of a wooden leg and a gaunt man came to see them.

“I am Major James McTaggart. What do you want of my daughter? Don’t you think she has been through enough?”

Harriet threw back her black veil.

“Major, I just want to meet her and see how I can help her.”

“Why would you?”

“I know full well of what my husband was capable, Major. Believe me, I do not blame you or your daughter for what happened. My husband deserved his fate. Yet I am concerned over your poor daughter, and I wanted to show her my regret and my sympathy.”

Her candour was appreciated, for Major McTaggart bowed slightly and led them towards a narrow staircase.

“It’s the first room to the right, Madam. She is in bed. She hasn’t got up in a week.” Suddenly, there were tears in the older man’s eyes. “She was the light of my life, and now she is only a shadow of herself.”

Harriet turned to Lucy.

“Lucy, dear, please let me talk to her alone. Major, would you mind entertaining my friend for a few minutes?”

The Major bowed stiffly and showed Lucy into a small living room. In the meantime, Harriet climbed the narrow staircase and knocked on the first door. There was no answer, and she opened the door carefully.

“Miss McTaggart?”

A black curled girl was half sitting on the bed that stood against the far wall of the room. She cast an accusing glare at Harriet.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“My name is Harriet Palmer.”

“What do you want of me? I did not ask for what your husband did. Leave me alone!”

“Miss McTaggart,” Harriet started, “I did not come here to accuse you or your father, quite the opposite. I came to apologise for what my husband did to you. I also came to see whether and how I might help you.”

She saw the suspicious look in the girl’s eyes and decided to be brutally open. She knelt before the bed, took the reluctant girl’s hands, and stared into her angry eyes.

“Listen! Almost two years ago, Rupert Palmer broke into my room at night, beat me senseless and raped me. Because my father is an important man, Lord Brougham forced his son to marry me. He probably thought this would make things right. Yet, Rupert continued to beat me; he beat me so bad one night that I lost my unborn child. Being forced to live with him under one roof made me hate him more than anyone can ever believe. I know how you feel, Moira, and I want to help you. I want to be your friend if you let me.”

“Is this true?” the girl asked in a less hostile tone.

“I promise,” Harriet replied. “Now, the most important thing you have to understand is that it was not your fault. It took me a year and the help of a good friend to realise this, but I felt better afterwards. Moira, you are innocent. Will you believe me?”

The girl nodded.

“And because you are innocent,” Harriet continued, “you must not be ashamed. So you should dress and come down with me. Your father will be happy to see you.”

“My father is dying,” the girl said in a hoarse voice.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“He’s suffering from a malignant growth. The doctor says it’s only a matter of weeks. He was hoping to find me a husband or at least a place to live before he dies, but who will marry me now?”

“I certainly cannot marry you, but I can offer you a place to stay. If anything happens to your father, let me know and I shall take care of you. I promise. I shall ask my father, Admiral Sir Richard Lambert, to be your guardian. I am sure he will agree.”

“Why should he? He doesn’t know me or my father.”

“If he does not agree, I shall find another honest man to be your protector. Now, come and let us dress you.”

Strangely, the first name that came to her mind was that of Anthony Carter. I have to forget him, she admonished herself.

Harriet coaxed the girl out of bed and helped her dress. She combed her raven black curls and braided them. Then she led the girl to the stairs and down to the first floor.

Major McTaggart was thunderstruck. The Widow Palmer had achieved what he had tried in vain for a week. His beautiful girl was back. Her eyes still conveyed hurt and fear, but she had come out of her shell.

Moira hugged her father. “Father, Mrs. Palmer has told me a few things about herself. I have also told her about us, about your health. She has offered me a place to live should your health decline further.”

“Would you do that, Madam?”

Suddenly, Harriet had to smile. It was not a happy smile, more a sardonic one.

“Major, I am in your debt. To be honest, when you shot my husband, you freed me from a life of constant fear and from a hatred that was choking my soul. It will be my pleasure to take care of your daughter should that need arise. I shall also ask my father to act as guardian. I think you know him, don’t you?”

The Major nodded. “Madam, this takes a load off my shoulders. I am not a rich man, but I have done my best to give my daughter a good upbringing and education. With your father as guardian, she may yet find a decent husband, in spite of what happened.”

Suddenly, Lucy found her voice.

“This girl is as innocent of what happened as anybody. There is nothing for her to be ashamed of. We shall find her a fine husband. Why, look at her! There is no mortal man who could resist her beauty. All we need to do is find a mortal man with reason; that will be the only difficulty.”

Lucy hugged the girl.”I am Lucy Gutteridge. I am Harriet’s friend and her brother’s fiancé. I am living with her until her brother will return.”

Harriet invited the girl to visit her in the afternoon, promising her to meet the famous Anita Heyworth at her house. Hardly able to cover her excitement, the girl accepted. When the two young women finally left, the Major bent low over Harriet’s hand.

“Madam, I take it that your life has not been easy. You still care about other people, though, and that is what I call character. You are a true daughter of your father, and I am sure he is proud of you.”

“I learned a lot from my parents, Major. I also learned from life’s trials, although these lessons have been hard. I refuse, however, to let those trials drag me down,” she ended with her chin set and her back straight.

The coach brought them back to her house and both women had a light lunch. Lucy watched her friend while they ate.

“Harriet, dear, for what you are doing for this poor girl, I really love you.”

Harriet looked at her friend with a smile.

“I decided not to let the Rupert Palmers run the world or my life. I am in a position to make right some of the wrongs Rupert committed. It is part of my own healing. Now if I just knew what Anita is up to!”

“I’m sorry I told her your secret, Harriet. But I thought she had to know. She is our friend.”