Chapter 6

A New Life

It was a usual wet Wiltshire morning in November 1600 as I reined in Devil my beloved black stallion, and dismounted under a large oak tree to shelter from the torrential rain. When we had left home that morning the sun had been shining, but the weather had deteriorated badly as we had traveled. When the rain had first started I had galloped on ahead, leaving Hudson my valet and Mistress Emily Roper my estates manager and personal assistant to the bumpy ride in the coach. I hated riding the coach on these badly made up tracks that passed for roads in this time. The coach lacked proper springing and was very uncomfortable. Now of course the coach with my valet, and staff were some way behind, so I had to wait for them to arrive.

It seemed that I was now destined to spend the rest of my natural existence as Lord Anthony Amesworth in the year of our Lord 1599 in the reign of Queen Elizabeth the First. However, I was not too disenchanted when I reviewed all my options. The fact that I had not returned permanently to the 21st century was not a great disaster, when I considered the luxury and the power that I now held in this time and place.

Previously the descendant of my former mistress, the African slave Jammarree, had through some unknown mystical powers, returned me to the year 1599 to exact revenge on the Hon Richard Winslow, a man who had an evil past, and had been an enemy to us both in my previous lifetime. It had been relatively easy for me to destroy him, as his father had gambled away his inheritance, and I had foreclosed on the Winslow estate. I had quite easily arranged the downfall of the impoverished Hon Richard Winslow and had him pressed as a deck hand aboard one of my ships, with instructions that his live body to be consigned to the sharks in the Red Sea from one of my ships. It was the fate to which he had so willingly consigned so many of his slaves to previously, after he and his cohorts had used them sexually.

At the time Richard Winslow had made it abundantly clear that having copulated with black female slaves he would not take the risk of them bearing any of his illegitimate children. After he and his friends had finished having their way with them, they would beat them and torture them for pure amusement, and then toss them still alive and conscious and bleeding to the sharks. Jammarree had seen her mother and sisters suffer that fate at his hands. It had only been her natural beauty, and good luck, which had saved her life, probably her possible value in the Zanzibar slave market, had also had a bearing on it...

To ensure that the Hon Richard Winslow would fall into my clutches I had become betrothed to his fiancé, the beautiful Hon Anne-Marie Archer. She was totally unaware of her fiancé's past misdemeanors, and his sexually diseased activities. I had no compunction in revealing them to her and she had quite willingly betrothed herself to me. I was aware however that the lovely Anne-Marie was easy with her affections, and despite our proposed betrothal. I suspected she would give herself to any man who took her fancy. Partly because this was in her nature, and partly to save her poor father from financial ruin. He had like many foolish gentry gambled their wealth away in gambling rooms set up by my parent, and which I had inherited.

Because I had deceived Anne-Marie about my intentions, and because I had fallen desperately in love with the Lady Helen Hammond and broken off our engagement when I had settled with Winslow ... I had spared her father the ignominy of foreclosure on his estate, partially because I was a little ashamed at having deceiving his daughter, and partially because the poor man had suffered enough ... His estate was now under my control to bring it back into profit so that he could repay the debt owed to me. However, his daughters silence was the price of my help, and I had made it clear that should she cross my path and cause me any mischief then I would not hesitate to foreclose.

Part of my inherited wealth came from two brothels in Curzon Street London. They had recently been refurbished and I was on my way to try out some new girls for my brothels and gaming rooms. I looked to obtain young ladies who were well born, and who had fallen on hard times. They must have good looks and be intelligent with a good level of conversation. But above all they must prove themselves to be adept at entertaining my clients between the bed sheets.

I wanted and must have girls who took to fucking like a duck took to water; they must have the ability to entertain people of wealth and position. They must be honest, and if they were lucky enough to land a husband or a gentleman who would willingly take them as his wife or mistress, then I wished them well, there were plenty of young ladies looking for positions. But above all, I it was a great joy for me to take their virginity, and I thoroughly enjoyed training them.

Mistress Annie an ex kitchen maid of mine was now the mistress of the brothels. She was an astute London born young lady, and her selection and management of them was beyond criticism. Many of the girls baulked at the idea of becoming a whore, but by the time Annie and I had broken them in, they were quite happy to earn their fortune in my employ. Usually they had no alternative.

Now it was the year 1599 and my beloved lady Hammond was now a widow, and a very wealthy widow, and we had privately declared our love for each other. It was our wish that we become betrothed after the official mourning period was over, and a decent interval had passed. She was the mother of my new born son who to all intents and purposes was the progeny and heir of her late aged husband. But Helen and I knew otherwise. Unfortunately, my late fiancée Anne - Marie who at the time was the Lady Helens closest friend, knew who the father of Helens child was – she had, after all arranged it and connived in our illicit coupling.

Now of course the very beautiful Anne-Marie was my bitter enemy at my having broken our proposed betrothal – her hatred at being publicly jilted knew no bounds. The only thing that kept her from revealing her knowledge of my coupling with Lady Helen, was that her father was so much in debt to me, and she knew full well, that I would foreclose on her father's estate immediately if she spoke out of turn.

I had after my previous adventures made a brief appearance back in the year 2005 to my 21st century Jammarree but when we thought all was well. I had been somehow reverted again back to the sixteenth century and so here I was, the very rich, the very handsome, immoral and well endowed Lord Anthony Amesworth. For some unknown reason Jammarree had not been able to restore me fully back to the year 2005 and keep me there. And I was now resigned to the fact that I was trapped in this time zone. She had hinted at the beginning that it may not be possible for me to make a full return. But she had endowed me with many enhanced personal attributes that made me a favourite of the ladies. A most precious gift in this the reign of Her Majesty Elizabeth the first where infidelity was common as long as it was done with discretion...

I must admit I was glad that I still had the original Jammarree whom I had rescued, and who later had made her way to England from Zanzibar, who was now bearing my child as was my sister and who now lived as a companion to my sister at the Manor House. The ladies had arranged that Jammarree should act as nursemaid to both of my progeny. It had been my Jammarree or her descendants in the 21st century, who had sent me back to avenge her mother and sisters.

Now, I was on reflection, happy to stay here. I was arguably the richest man in England, and I definitely would be the richest man in the country when Helen and I could marry. Her estate was vast and would also be under my control, until our son was old enough to come into his inheritance. My personal wealth was increasing all the time, and my estates and shipping interests had prospered, and so indeed did my brothels and gambling ventures in London which had been started by my late father.