Chapter 22: Melissa Martin

Indeed, six days later saw the three of them inspecting a comfortable cabin on board the Amelia Anne. The ship was a solidly built clipper, constructed to give passengers a maximum of comfort, and Sir Anthony had personally inspected it to the amusement of the Captain. Since the hurricane season had not ended yet, they would take a northern route, and the captain expected the crossing to take five to six weeks.

On the first days of the journey out of Southampton, they were indeed favoured by friendly autumn weather, and the Amelia Anne made excellent way. The three young people were lucky enough not to be affected by sea sickness like a few of their fellow passengers. To his surprise, Richard found out that another officer from the Foreign Office was travelling with them. Mr. Perceval Edwards was the replacement for the helpful Colonel MacAlister, and he travelled with his wife, Victoria, and they were both delighted to no end at travelling with a real life Peer of England and his wife and sister. They spent pleasant evenings in the main cabin where they shared a table. Other passengers were less pleasant. An elderly minister with his rather young wife looked with disapproval at the displays of affection between Richard and Ellen, harmless as they were. When Eleanor confessed that she was on her way to her marooned fiancé, they were shocked.

“I would let no daughter of mine travel to a foreign land!” the minister exclaimed.

“My parents gave me a good upbringing,” Eleanor answered sweetly. “This is why they can trust me.”

That did it, and for rest of the journey the couple did not speak to Eleanor which was just fine with her.

True to their captain’s predictions, they arrived in Boston Harbour forty days after their departure, and their first worry was to find lodgings for the next three weeks. That accomplished, they set out for the British Consulate.

Sir Humbert MacAllister was an imposing figure. Tall, with red hair and impressive sideburns, he was nevertheless a friendly and helpful man. Once he had learned the identity of his visitors, he ordered his own coach to transport them to Antonio’s address. Eleanor could hardly suppress her excitement whilst the coach rolled through the strange town.

At last, the coach lurched to a halt in front of a four-story tenement building. Richard alighted and helped Ellen and his sister. They looked at the building; it was not at all what they were accustomed to, but is was not run-down either. Richard led the small group into the stairwell, and they ascended to the second floor. There were four doors, and Sir Humbert had said it was the second. Richard knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked once more, and suddenly the door next to them opened, and a woman showed.

“You’re looking for the Spaniard?” she inquired.

“Yes, indeed,” Richard answered, bowing slightly.

“You’ll have to look on the top floor, with that Martin woman. That’s where he usually is.”

With that, she slammed her door shut. Richard raised his eyebrows and led the small group up another two flights. There was just one door up here and Richard knocked.

“One moment please!” a pleasant female voice called from within and Ellen noticed that Eleanor was ready to bolt.

“Easy there, Eleanor,” she said, “you don’t want to jump to conclusions, believe me!”

That was sound advice, but Eleanor felt panic. The door opened and her fears solidified. The woman who opened was certainly very attractive. A full bosom seemed to stretch a paint-smeared dress to the breaking point. Her hair, dark brown and curly, was tied into a frayed braid. Her face, with large brown eyes and a generous mouth, was friendly, which was underscored by the dimples that showed when she smiled. She looked at her visitors questioningly.

“Madam,” Richard started, “we were told that Antonio Ruiz de Costa would be found here.”

“Who wants to know?” the woman inquired, not unfriendly, but guarded. Her voice was rich and cultivated.

“I am Richard Carter, Lord Lambert. This is my wife Ellen, and this is my...”

“She must be Eleanor!” the woman said excitedly and laughed. “Poor Antonio speaks of you all the time! You came all the way from England to pick him up? How sweet of you! Come in, my dear,” she gushed and pushed Eleanor in and into a large, well-lit room. Richard followed, but Ellen held back, trying to gauge the woman. She had to smile when she heard the happy shriek from Eleanor and gave the woman a friendly nod. The woman stared at her with an open mouth.

Melissa Martin considered herself a reasonably happy person, in spite of the repercussions she had to endure for her choices. The daughter of a rich brewer and merchant, she had grown up with a better education than most other girls. Early on, she discovered that she loved to paint and sketch. At first, her parents had been amused over her artistic streak and had even allowed her to study the arts further. When young Melissa steadfastly refused to select one of her numerous suitors however, when she maintained her wish to become an artist for a living, her mother had all but disowned her. Her father had been disappointed too, but at least he still acknowledged her existence, and he quietly supplied her with money for her living expenses. This was how she was able to afford the well-lit top story atelier where she painted and lived.

Three months ago, the displaced young Columbian had rented a second story room, and they had met in the stairwell. He had helped her carry her purchases upstairs, and they had started to talk. He had become a good friend to her, one who did not look down on her. For young Melissa, apart from being shunned by her family, carried another stigma. She felt strongly for women. Antonio had never looked at her with the smirk to which she was accustomed and she had come to trust him. And he looked so good! Soon, the young man would sit for her, and she was even able to sell a few of those paintings.

When she opened her door to those visitors from England, her well-ordered little world turned topsy-turvy. For she looked into the eyes of the loveliest woman she had ever seen. The friendly smile with which the young woman looked at her did not waver when Melissa stared at her. There was understanding in those violet-blue eyes, but no withdrawal. Finally, Melissa was able to speak.

“Would you like to come in, Mrs... , how do I address you properly?”

“Why not with Ellen?” the young woman suggested. “I’ve been Lady Lambert for only four months, and I feel strange being addressed that way. Are you a friend of Antonio?”

“We are neighbours and friends, yes. Not that sort of friends, if you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” Ellen responded with a friendly smile. “Are you a painter?”

“Yes, I was working with Antonio. You see, he sits for me, for my paintings.”

“I have never met a female painter,” Ellen said with appreciation. “Come to think about it, I can’t see a reason why women should not paint. Will you show me your work?”

“Of course, why don’t you come in?”

They entered the atelier where an amused Richard watched his sister who was in a tight embrace will a half-naked Antonio. Ellen giggled delightedly, and walked over. Antonio looked up, and his eyes widened.

“You are here, too? I never expected you to come here. I would hug you, but Eleanor won’t let go.”

Ellen grinned and reached up to kiss his cheek.

“You had better dress before you hug me. Richard has a reputation as a duellist,” she laughed.

Eleanor finally let go of Antonio and walked over to Melissa.

“Miss Martin, Antonio has told me about you. I want to thank you for being his friend.”

She held out her hand, and Melissa shook it.

“I would suggest that this calls for a celebration,” Richard spoke up. “I have taken the liberty of reserving a room for you at our hotel, Antonio. We will have another three weeks before our ship sails, and we should spend them in comfort. Your mother packed clothes for you, and they are at the hotel. Perhaps, Miss Martin would care to join us for dinner?”

The young woman blushed.

“Only if you are sure that I will not intrude on you,” she said, but Eleanor gave her a brief hug.

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled.

“I take it you will be moving, Antonio?” Melissa asked.

Antonio blushed. “I suppose,” he said. “I will help you finish the painting, don’t worry. Eleanor, Melissa needs two more sessions with me to finish. Would it be terribly thoughtless of me to ask for leave to sit for Melissa? She has helped me so much.”

“Can I watch?” Eleanor asked, hopefully.

“But of course,” the young painter said, relieved that she would be able to finish the last painting.

“This is wonderful!” they heard Ellen exclaim. She had wandered off and examined the half-finished painting of Antonio. “This is so lifelike, you’d think Antonio will start to speak any moment. You must be very successful.”

“Not really,” Melissa laughed. “This is a city of religious people. They frown upon artists, they frown more upon a female artist, and they frown on women who chose to live alone.”

“You can take orders then?” Ellen asked excitedly. “Could I sit for you? I want Richard to have a painting of me for his office.”

Richard smiled, but he liked the idea. “I would love that,” he offered.

“Why, of course,” Melissa answered. The thought of painting this alluring young woman made her all giddy with excitement.

“Wonderful!” Ellen smiled. “Will you have dinner with us? We’re at the Peabody. Do you know it?”

Melissa nodded with a smile.

“I have been there with my parents.”

A half hour later, they had collected Antonio’s meagre possessions from his room and loaded them on the coach that took them back to their hotel. Richard had written a note to Sir Humbert, inviting him to dinner as well. Antonio spent the afternoon soaking in a large cast-iron bathtub, whilst an unashamed Eleanor puttered around him. Richard had debated where to draw the line, but his sister was so happy that he did not have the heart to curb her enthusiasm.

In the end, Eleanor landed alongside Antonio in the tub, kissing him fervently, and fondling his member. They had never before engaged in anything more than kissing, but in their bliss, they threw caution to the wind. Using her hands and small, perky breasts, Eleanor brought her lover to a quick orgasm, her soapy breasts catching the lion’s share of his spendings. Laughing and horsing around, they dried off. Dressed, they joined Richard and Ellen at their table in the dining room.

A little while later, Sir Humbert arrived, accompanied by a good looking young woman whom he introduced as his daughter Colleen. He explained that his wife had passed away ten years ago, and that his daughter accompanied him everywhere his duty called him. Antonio thanked the consul again for his help. They learned that Sir Humbert and his daughter would be passengers in the Amelia Anne for the journey back to England, after he was replaced by Mr. Edwards.

Melissa Martin arrived a few minutes later, clearly in her best dress and self-conscious. She had tied her rich brown hair into a single, thick braid, falling over the back of her tobacco-coloured dress. The dress could hardly contain the ample gifts nature had bestowed on her, and she was clearly ill at ease, especially seeing the other table partners in their well-tailored attire.

In her elation, Eleanor jumped up and hugged her, eying her with appreciation.

“You look fabulous, Miss Martin. It is a good thing that Antonio’s faithfulness is unwavering for you are surely a temptation to any man. Isn’t that so, Richard?”

Richard laughed easily. Since having reconciled with Ellen, he had become more sure of himself and of his wife. Knowing that Ellen would understand, he complimented Melissa, too.

“If you ever find painting too tasking, you can just as easily sit model.”

Antonio snorted. “Easily? Did you ever try to sit motionless for hours?”

That took away the attention from Melissa, and she gave Antonio a grateful smile. Antonio had to relate his adventures in more detail during the dinner, and Eleanor’s eyes remained glued to his lips. Unknowingly, and to the hidden amusement of nearly everybody else at the table, her hands pressed his arm fiercely whenever he related dangerous incidents. In the end, Ellen could not help herself. Laughingly, she bent over to Eleanor and patted her arm.

“Relax, Eleanor, he’s here, safe and sound.”

Eleanor blushed and smiled sheepishly receiving sympathetic smiles from all around.

“Can I help it if I feel with him?” she asked.

“No, I suppose you can’t,” Richard laughed. “Believe me, if it weren’t for our parents and Antonio’s mother, I would suggest that you marry instantly.”

Antonio nodded. “The thought crossed my mind, but I want my mother to witness my wedding.”

Colleen MacAlistair had been silent for most of the time. She had met the handsome young man a few times when Sir Humbert had invited him for dinner out of sympathy, and she had asked herself why he had not tried to woo her like most young men. Now, of course, she knew. Antonio and Eleanor were a match made in heaven. She then watched the other young couple. They were clearly past their first blinding love, settled into something deeper. They made the impression of having gone through hell and back, their love surviving and being stronger for it. A love like tempered steel, Colleen thought, the poet in her taking over, for she wrote poems as well as prose.

Her gaze then swept over the American woman, Melissa Martin. She was a painter, living on her own, defying her parents to pursue her dream of becoming an artist. Colleen thought she understood her. She, too, did not look forward to being married to some young guards officer which was her probable outlook. Her dream was to become a renowned writer, being invited to the literary circles where the titans of the mind met.

The news of Lord Byron’s death in Greece had hit her like a hammer; now her fervent wish to meet him once in her life had been buried. Suddenly, the object of her observation looked up, and the dark brown eyes were like deep ponds in which Colleen wanted to drown. She saw recognition and understanding in those eyes, and sadness. Yes, she understood. They would probably never meet again, never have a chance to find out how similar they felt and thought.

Melissa was distracted now, the conversation had turned towards the fact that she would portray young Lady Lambert. Melissa answered a few questions, and finally Colleen found the courage to speak.

“I have never seen a painter at work. Do you think I might come and watch you? We shall leave in three weeks, so it would have to be in the next weeks.”

“Are you interested in painting?” Melissa asked in her rich, captivating voice.

“I aspire to be a writer,” Colleen admitted, and the painter laughed.

“Let us trade then. I shall show you my painting, and you will show me your writings.”

“Agreed!” Colleen smiled, but then her smile fell somewhat. “Will you allow me, father?”

Sir Humbert had not seen the interaction between his daughter and the young American woman. Like everybody else around the table, he found the young woman appealing, and he thought nothing of his daughter watching her paint.

“Of course, dear. Just make sure you let me know when you go and take the coach.”

The young women agreed to meet at the studio the next afternoon for Melissa to do the first sketches of Ellen. Richard would help Antonio to obtain the funds he needed to purchase the items he would need for the homeward journey, and Sir Humbert insisted on the young Lord to meet with several Boston merchants who had a high volume of trade with England. Richard agreed on a lunch, maintaining that he would have dinner with his wife and not with strangers.

After the men had had a last glass of French Cognac brandy, Sir Humbert and his daughter offered their farewell and thanked for the invitation. They offered Melissa Martin a ride home in their coach, and Melissa accepted thankfully. On the way up to their rooms, Eleanor held back her brother.

“Richard, I am thankful for your help and understanding. That is why I won’t deceive you. I will spend the night in Antonio’s room. I need to be with him, and he needs me. I promise, I will not compromise myself.”

Richard smiled benevolently at his younger sister and showed her a key.

“Why do you think I rented two adjacent rooms for you and Antonio? Here is the key for the connecting door. Be discrete though. Father will kill me if I allow you to get in trouble.”

Eleanor reached up and pulled her brother into a kiss.

“Thanks, you are a wonderful brother,” she whispered.

“It was Ellen’s idea,” Richard smiled.

“Oh no,” Eleanor groaned. “She’ll tease me mercilessly.”

“That’s a small price to pay,” Richard grinned and led his sister to her room.

When Richard entered his room, Ellen was sitting in front of a mirror, an oil lamp illuminating the corner. She was naked, and she examined herself in the mirror. Looking at Richard, she grimaced.

“I’m already showing,” she said accusingly. “Soon I’ll be bloated and you will not look at me anymore.”

Richard knelt behind his wife and hugged her, looking over her shoulder at the mirror image.

“Ellen, if possible, you look more beautiful than ever. Your breasts are filling a bit, and your nipples are bigger. I also think your eyes are bigger now. I love the way you look. As for your belly, that’s hardly noticeable; and it is our child that is growing there. That is two persons in one for me to love.”

Ellen turned to kiss him.

“Who told you what to say? Your mother?”

Richard laughed.

“My father hinted that I should show my appreciation for you even more whilst you are with child.”

“Your father is a wise man. Take a leaf from his book.”

“He also said that women with child feel the urge quite strongly and that I should not neglect you,” Richard chuckled, kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples.

“Remind me to compliment your father on his insight,” Ellen sighed, leaning back against her husband who began to nibble at her neck whilst his hands continued to caress her swelling breasts.

“Let us move to the bed,” Richard whispered into her ear, raising goose pimples over her entire body.

During the five weeks on board the Amelia Anne, they had not been able to consummate their love with quite the intensity they had grown used to. The wooden bulkhead provided little in the way of sound protection, and although they had been tempted to provoke the stupid minister with a noisy romp, they decided it would not be in keeping with the dignity of a Peer of Englamd.

Now they were in a real room, the floor under them was solid, and the bed was dry and smelt fresh. Ellen lay back on the bed, her legs slightly spread and pointed Richard to the patch of blonde hair above the joining of her thighs. Quickly, Richard dove between her legs and buried his face in her sex. Ellen squealed with delight, and her hips began to undulate under his ministrations. She did not let him continue for long, though.

“I want you now, Richard,” she said, pulling his head up.

Richard moved up and was surprised as she turned her back to him. She smiled.

“I like it when you hug me from behind. Can you come into me that way?”

Richard did not hesitate. Her well formed backside was too enticing. He moved behind her and guided his member into her slippery opening. When he found purchase, he penetrated her as far as possible, whilst he wrapped his right arm around her chest. Ellen pressed her backside against him and tilted her pelvis to achieve deeper penetration. To Richard, this felt like heaven, whilst the rocking motions of Ellen’s hips gave him the most wonderful sensations. What Ellen lacked in experience, she more than compensated with her unbridled enthusiasm and her willingness to try new things.

He began to match her movements with his own hips, and for a few minutes the rhythmic slapping sounds of his pelvis against her buttocks were the only sounds in the room. Soon, Ellen’s and Richard’s breathing changed into panting, and then into low moans as their movements gained in speed and intensity. Ellen began to urge him on with words of encouragement, whispered between the moans that escaped from her mouth.

Richard own passion increased with the knowledge that his wife was riding the waves of lust herself. She was never shy to express her wishes and feelings, and the bed was no exception to that. Finally, Ellen gave in to her passion, shuddering in her release, and Richard felt the pulsing of her inner muscles, setting him off shortly after her. Spent, the lay on their sides, her back against his front, and his softening member still lodged inside her, and this was how they fell asleep.

Meanwhile, an exhausted but happy Eleanor was suckling on Antonio’s spent member. Antonio lay on his back, and his hand softly stroked Eleanor’s hair as her head lay on his stomach.

With tongue, lips and fingers, Antonio had teased the young woman into a state of lust beyond anything she had felt before in her life. After she reached her first release, he never stopped, but kept going, bringing her to repeated peaks until she pleaded for mercy.

Chuckling, he had laid back, only to be surprised by Eleanor’s counter attack. She began hesitantly by kissing his shaft with half-closed lips, but soon she learned from his reactions how to lick the shaft, how to engulf the sensitive head with her lips, and how to torment him with her swirling tongue.

Antonio was the unwitting beneficiary of a private tutoring session between Eleanor and her mother, who had given her pointers how to sate her fiancé’s lust without running the risk of a premature pregnancy. Aided by her exuberant enthusiasm and by her urge to give Antonio a measure of her love for him, she brought him to a blinding release that left him weak and quivering on his back.

When Eleanor was satisfied that Antonio’s member was cleaned, she moved up on his body and laid her head on his shoulder, listening to his heart beat and his deep breathing.

“How did you ever learn that?” Antonio asked weakly, but with a trace of concern.

“I asked my mother what I should do to show you my love,” Eleanor answered brightly. “I practised with a cucumber,” she added with a giggle. “I like your member better.”

“You asked your mother?” he asked, blushing deeply at the thought of Eleanor discussing his member with her mother.

“Who else could I ask? Ellen would tell me, I’m sure, but she was too busy with Richard in the last weeks. Does what I did bother you?”

“Are you joking? Eleanor, what you did almost made me lose my mind! I should not have asked, I’m sorry.”

“Where did you learn how to please a woman?”

Antonio cleared his throat, at a loss of what to tell her.

“Tell me! You must have learned from an experienced woman. Please, I know that you must have known women before me.”

“There was a woman, a servant, in our house in Cartagena. She was, she is a mulatta, a few years older than me. She was my lover and my tutor for a year. She taught me how to please a woman. Are you jealous of her?”

“No,” Eleanor said with conviction. “If it hadn’t been for her, you would not have known how to make me feel as good as you did. What happened to her?”

“When I left Cartagena to join the fight for freedom, I bought a farm for her and her family. The last I heard, she married a man from her village. I hope she is happy.”

“Antonio?”

“Yes, mi amor?”

“I can hardly wait for us to be married!”

“I feel the same, Eleanor. All those months in the whaler, it was your image before my inner eye that kept me sane.”

“I had your mother to give me strength. We have grown quite close. When everybody was telling us to accept that you were lost forever, we lent each other strength. We both felt strongly that you were alive. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“No man could ever dream of a better wife,” Antonio whispered, lifting her face up and kissing her. Slowly, the two lovers drifted into sleep.

They awoke from a pounding on their door.

“Wake up, you two!” Ellen’s cheerful voice could be heard. “Breakfast in a quarter hour!”

“She is my best friend, but one day I shall have to strangle her!” Eleanor grumbled, peering through her tangled strands of hair. Antonio smiled down on her.

“And don’t smile at me at such an ungodly hour!” she continued.

But Antonio was unfazed. Bending down, he buried his face in her stomach and blew a raspberry on her belly button. Eleanor shrieked and tried to dislodge him, but she got a merciless tickling for her troubles until she begged for mercy. In a huff, she picked up her night shirt and went into her room to dress. Antonio waited in front of her room when she was dressed, and together, they went down to the breakfast room where they were met with wide grins by Ellen and Richard.

“Not. A. Word!” Eleanor demanded, pointing her finger at Ellen, who merely lifted her eyebrows.

“As I was saying, somebody must have been very sick tonight,” Ellen told Richard in conversational tone. “I distinctly heard this moaning and thrashing, and even cries of pain, I believe. Didn’t you hear it, too, Eleanor?”

Eleanor looked murder, but Antonio had a good-natured grin on his face.

“Stop teasing my fiancée, Ellen,” he smiled. “I believe I heard very similar sounds from next door.”

Ellen merely grinned back.

“What do you expect? That was our first night alone. And we’ve been married for just three months.”

Antonio was confused. “I thought you planned to marry last year?”

“We would have,” Richard said quietly, “had it not been for my stupidity.”

“And mine,” Ellen added quickly. “But we found back together. And that is what counts. Eleanor can tell you.”

She bent over to Richard who kissed her tenderly. They continued their breakfast and planned the day. Richard and Antonio would cash in a bill of exchange to get spending money for Antonio. The young man wanted to purchase presents for the people who had helped him, mostly for Melissa and Sir Humbert and his daughter. For the first time, Eleanor admitted to her initial misgivings.

“When I heard that you spent most of your time with a woman, I nearly turned around,” she said, blushing slightly. “When she opened the door, she was so pretty, I would have run away had Ellen not stayed me.”

Ellen laughed. “You sweet, innocent girl!” she said, patting Eleanor’s hand. “Don’t you realise that Melissa Martin would prefer you over Antonio any time? Or rather, me. Her look was rather admiring and flattering, I have to admit.”

“You mean, she is... ?” Richard did not know how to express himself. The word lesbian had not been invented yet, and the male equivalent he had heard at school did not seem to fit.

“She would be called ‘a confirmed spinster’, I suppose,” Ellen said, giggling at the euphemism. “But I like her. And her paintings are just fabulous.”

Eleanor gaped at her. “Do you really think so? I thought she was so nice. Should you really go to her studio then?”

“She is a painter, and she will not attack me. If I went to a male painter, you would not think of it as inappropriate, would you?”

“I suppose, you are right,” Eleanor conceded.

“Of course, she is right,” Antonio said. “Melissa is the kindest woman on earth. I know that she will never love a man, but she is a wonderful friend.”

The men left after breakfast, and Ellen and Eleanor sat in Ellen’s room, sorting their clothes for laundering. Eleanor brought up the subject of Melissa Martin again.

“I did not want to mention it, Ellen, but what we did, back in my grandmother’s house, do you think we prefer women, too?”

Instead of an answer, Ellen took Eleanor’s face and kissed her soundly. Then she released the surprised girl.

“Now, would you rather have me or Antonio kiss you?”

“Antonio,” Eleanor said, understanding.

“See? I love you dearly and I enjoyed those moments with you, the intimacy and the thrill of feeling your body. But with Richard, it is different and more. He fills me completely.” She giggled. “Of course, he does, but I mean he fills my needs. But I must admit that the good Melissa has charms that cannot be overlooked.”

“You mean her bust?”

“No, not that. She is so wholesome, and she bursts with vitality. I would like to know her better.”

A maid picked up the laundry, and the two young women explored the vicinity of the hotel. Boston was a bustling city and the shops were stocked just as well as most London shops. In a bookstore, Ellen found two illustrated books about American plants and herbs which she purchased for Lucy. Whilst they strolled along the streets they suddenly saw a man of whom they had never met the like. His skin looked like the skin of a sailor, a deep mahogany brown, but it was his features that made him stand out. High cheekbones and a narrow nose, dark brown eyes and thin lips set him apart from the surrounding people. He noticed the two young women who stared at him and a look of annoyance crept into his face. Ellen noticed that, and she was embarrassed. She walked up to the man.