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Note: Over the course of the novel, you will encounter characters speaking in the Scots dialect- a subset of English spoken by the Scots, of course. Most of the time, context and similarity will make meaning clear. I will provide a glossary for the more unusual words as needed.
-III-
Wee ane,
Ye ken I miss ye and the brithers and oor city. Dae ye think I ran awa frae hame like I wouldna? I’m sorry I havena been back in a long time. I promise I’ll come for a holiday soon. As tae your other concerns… Ye ken verra well whit sort of wumman I’d seek for a wifie… I’m not sure I’ll ever find her. I dinna ken if she even exists.
Dinna worry sae much for your brither, me lief… As always, I live. Whit I’m daein is guid wark, and ’tis enough. I
A noise drew the letter-writer from his focus. The small chime from his vest brought him back to the morning’s business.
Doctor August Henry Blackmore sat up at his desk and checked his silver pocket-watch. Precisely nine, and his newest charge due to arrive any moment. A pair of concerning reports had been delivered that morning, and he resumed pondering them now their hour was come. According to the staff at reception (his administrative secretary had told him) the new patient Valentine Godwin had been a perfectly well-behaved woman upon arrival, and just this morning had been found stripped of her clothes, a mess, and sleeping in a nest of her own shredded possessions. Then, as if that weren’t enough to raise his eyebrows, he been handed a folded scrap of paper. Unexpectedly, it informed him that the orderly responsible for attending her the previous evening had reported a “mad fit” upon leading her to her room, and refused to approach her again at all, for his “own safety.” That, quite frankly, only added to the bemusement.
At that moment, there came a rapping on his office door, and August stood.
“Please, enter.” The door opened gently, and two white-dressed nurses came leading the lamb. The patient was a bit of a sight. She wore nothing but a hip-length chemise, her drawers and a corset. Her hair was a storm cloud of ruined thick pin curls, and yet her eyes shone green, and her lips burned red upon a downcast face. Despite his years of service and professional demeanor, Dr Blackmore was startled by her appearance, so feral, and so lovely. A flash of intuition lit his brain. Something was… different about this one.
Once delivered of their charge, the nurses departed.
“Ah, good morning, Miss Godwin. Please, make yourself comfortable. I am Doctor Blackmore, head physician and psychologist here at Mistress Halifax’s.” The good doctor was a tall, athletically built man of twenty-six years, dressed impeccably, bespectacled, yet imbued with the mien of a man three times his age. Standing before him, Valentine took note of his respectability and sighed heavily. She would be telling him the truth, and she expected to watch horror dawn upon another face. Perhaps (the trifling hope arose), he was too jaded for horror. The likelihood of that, though… She assumed she would be dismissed by this one as well as the rest, and he would start some ghastly treatment of pills and creams and “restful” sea bathing. Valentine buried her face in her hands and then raked through her tangled mane.
“Very kind of you, Doctor,” she mumbled as she sat. “I trust you are well.” Her tone fell flat and indignant, and no zest came in her words. It had been such a long while since she had spoken so unaffected. August seated himself and readied his pen.
“Now Miss Godwin- this being your first consultation with me, I must take notes on your illness so that we best may treat it. Please, if you can, describe your symptoms. What has brought you here?” He lifted his pen and waited, poised. Raising a flippant hand in the air, leaning on the other lazily, she spoke.
“I have no illness, dear Doctor. I am here because I am a disgrace to my mother. I’m not a pretty caged bird trained to talk in nonsense and she is disgusted by me.” The newcomer leaned heavily on the arm of her chair, no longer willing to keep a proper posture. Her eyes focused on the bookshelf next to his desk rather than him, and her voice lacked depth. There was no part of the young woman that cared a whit for the encounter. The doctor’s pen scratched quickly.
“Would you mind expounding upon your meaning? Your metaphor of the ‘caged bird’?” He took quite an interest in her ease of analogy and well-composed response. A sharp, frustrated mind sat before him. Answering him forthrightly, too. She was not cowed by her situation in the slightest- he was sure it only added to her sullen angst.
“My mother had fond hopes of keeping me as lovely and hollow as a porcelain doll, trained to smile and obey, all to be sold for marriage.” Incredible sarcasm poured into her words. “A little caged pet. When I chose instead to become educated, proud, and a person, she rejected me.” Valentine Kartal Öğrenci Escort stopped, and listened to his insistent writing. Then she laughed mockingly. “But I suppose she could have simply picked a rich boor to wed and bed me, and washed her hands of me forever, if it had not been for one thing.” A smile twitched to her lips. It bore a jester’s folly. She almost felt sorry for the poor man, catching her in less than her full guise and allure.
“And what is that, Miss Godwin?” August peered studiously at her over his glasses.
“Valentine.”
“What?” He looked at her pointedly and reflexively, shocked, but she was not returning his attention.
“I shall tell you if you drop the protocol of gentility and for once let me be free of it. Call me Valentine and just talk to me, even if you entertain salacious thoughts about my breasts! Do I look as though I have any care for propriety?” The dare was tearing through her bloodstream, wreaking havoc with the pounding of her primal drives. Might a creature of need be buried under that well-mannered front…? Still, he felt like… no harm. Doubtless he would admonish her unladylike ways severely. The girl waited.
The doctor hesitated. Something stirred inside.
The man he presented to the world was a professional; a scholar and a modestly-monied gentleman; there she sat, bucking the conventions of society and calling out the truth of his person. Entertain salacious thoughts about her breasts? A creature, long dormant and acquiescent to defeat, woke at her call from within him. It was something wicked and intense and long unsatisfied. But he hardly dared to let it out.
At her invitation, he did drink in the sight of her figure. It was… breathtaking. Beautifully curved, lush and ripe. How would she feel in his hands? Firm, or soft? He swallowed.
“Alright, Valentine. You have my complete attention.” Acknowledgement, intrigue in his tone, and she perked up. The little lioness scented something unexpected. As he drank in the sight of her, he felt glad of the desk covering his lower half. Her eyes darted up and found him for the first time, almost as if she knew her words had roused a slumbering beast in his soul. She gave him a calculating look. He was actually serious.
“I made myself something I am proud to be.” she began, testing the waters. “I am beautiful, intelligent; strong in mind, body, and will. I was willing to marry, but I wanted a certain satisfaction. One that I have never found and now lost all hope I ever shall.” Steepling his fingers, August did not write; he merely waited for her to finish, intently staring over the spectacles still perched on his nose. When he did not interrupt or respond, she let her words rise. Pulse pounding in her ears, she decided quickly to discover what kind of man he really was. “I want a man who will possess me. I want a man who will claim me, and bend me to his will.” She began to sit up, her voice growing more violent and unrestrained. “I want a man who will dominate me and make my body his pleasure-ground! I want to serve, to submit, to tremble under his hands and mouth and writhe in pleasure at the force of his cock!”
In her passion, she rose to her feet and threw her fists into the air, clenching them so tightly her knuckles whitened.
“I want a man of passion! I WANT A MAN WHO WILL MAKE HIMSELF MY MASTER!” she ended screaming, her face flushing crimson, finally unveiled for the dark nymph she was. The challenge was thrown. Doctor Blackmore put down his pen and covered his mouth with his hands. His trousers strained, and his heart was overwhelmed by the unexpectedly serendipitous arrival of the bonnie wraith. The thing unfurling inside him roused fully, and roared in answer.
She straightened herself, quietly composing. The voice of his blackest self rioted its urgency, arresting every cognisant thought as he stared. “Naturally I could not make it easy to master me, and that is why I was sent here.” Valentine sank back into her chair, to appear compliant. The doctor took a deep breath and willed himself to gain control over his unruly pulse. The grimace on his face was not a result of displeasure but his own determination, and the sudden life-altering choice cast in his lap. What to do? To answer the pained howl inside would mean risking his very livelihood, his reputation! Even his honour… But, to ignore that cry… He’d in the damn straight-jacket next and he knew it. When the Hell would he ever get another chance to pursue the only dream he’d never let himself chase?
The strain of unforeseen arousal lessened, finally. The choice was obvious, and the potential price not steep enough to deter. The cost could be the very living blood from his veins, and he’d grab his damn letter-opener and slice his arm to pay it! Abruptly he stood, walked briskly to the door, and opened it. Valentine followed his movement only half-interestedly, certain that she’d Kartal Çıtır Escort just set her medical doom in stone.
“Miss Birdie, for the rest of the hour, please do not disturb me with anything short of death, fire, or Doomsday.” His secretary, Carolina Birdie, nodded vigourously. The woman took messages, kept records, typed important documents and managed Blackmore’s schedule and logbook. She’d worked hard and come a long way to be an independent woman. Though she hadn’t any idea what was said, she had heard the rising feminine voice and knew her employer was mired with another lunatic fit. As the man turned back into his office, he closed and locked the door.
August took off his spectacles and folded them neatly away into his coat pocket. He advanced toward the girl, his eyes burning; a crack in the barrier concealing his inferno. She read his expression with her own bias, and sneered.
“Are you so disgusted by me?” The look he turned upon her then was withering, wounded, and for once she found herself chastened. That set something within her bubbling. No man had ever shown such… austerity in the wake of her confession before. Though she was ready to act as needed, he stalked past her, still silent, and drew the window’s drapes.
When he turned back around again and faced her, his transformation from ordinary and forgettable to compellingly deviant was complete. For the first time, he allowed his innermost self to be seen, in full, by another. His gait to her chair became measured and purposeful. Whether or not his decision was a good idea for his career or circumstances, it was the one he had to make, for his own sanity. It was too late to put the beast back to sleep.
It had recognised its mate.
“Ah am na ‘disgusted’, Valentine.” His voice had also transformed, and was no longer contained and professional. She noticed the tawny brown of his eyes, and the darker shade in his hair. Surprisingly (or, perhaps, not), his mannerly scholar-speech and exact dress had clouded her vision to the rather virile and handsome man beneath. He reached her then, and leaned over her, imposing his height and fit musculature to great effect. For the first time in her brief adult life, Valentine felt intimidated by a man, and her heart fluttered. Gone were her sneer and her catlike snobbery. Silent was her tongue. August stooped to firmly grip her waist and haul her to her feet. She squeaked, and felt herself get instantly, heavily wet. The unexpected gush trickled down her inner thighs, soaking her bloomers. The man captured her and brought her close, stroking her cherubic cheek. “I could never be disgusted by your craving. I understand you, little bird. We seek the same fulfillment. In despair I had given up finding it some time ago.” Valentine was frozen, her knees quaking. The doctor’s hand found firm purchase in her snarled locks, and he urgently pulled her to his hungry mouth.
The kiss was hard and needy, at first closed and then no longer so prim. He slid his tongue between her ruby lips and found hers, untrained but bold, eager. She moaned heavily and relented. Bone-deep relief in submission washed through her, taken from her dreams and brought to reality. As she yielded to the embrace his other hand roved her back and took firm hold of her perfect, thinly-covered posterior. Her hips bucked straight into him, and Valentine actually broke the kiss with her yelp of desire. Oh, God! Heat started within her. He was hard! And pressed right to her loins! The ache was almost too much to bear. Valentine folded into his chest, her arms already wrapping his waist. Oh, if only he would take her right there on the rug!
August recaptured her mouth greedily, sucking her lower lip and then tongue into his mouth. He held her close, like he could never get his fill of her scent and taste. Her eyelids fluttered for the entirety of their embrace, but he retained his stare and watched her melt- all for him. At last, he had found his night-flower, his passionate match!
Slowly he released her mouth and her body. She was trembling, overcome by lust and the taste of her long-held fantasies.
“Valentine…” he crooned, low and throaty. Hazed, her emerald eyes flicked open and he saw the life breathing back into them. She was panting heavily.
“Doctor…?” she gasped out. Blackmore shook his head.
“Something inscrutable has sent you to me, little bird. Ah want ye for my own, frae this moment. Whit dae ye want?” Tremours took her, again. Blindsided by the rush of fulfillment and shock that swept her, she opened her mouth, her voice choked. Such boldness, to lay claim on her with absolutely no hint of doubt! He did not fear what she was, nor her rejection. Before she could even think; too late, the fuse was lit.
His proclamation ensured that she understood his motivations. The woman he’d longed for was not going to slip through his hands when she had given him the keys to Kartal Elit Escort everything she was!
“More… Yes, oh, yes!” She threw herself into his embrace and kissed him, finding new tears in her eyes. He allowed her the moment of passion, and then placed his hands upon her shoulders.
“We will speak in depth about this, Valentine. I have much to arrange, now, if we are to have any freedom. But we have the rest of our hour. Tell me, little bird, if you are a virgin.”
“Unfortunately,” she snorted with a twist of humour. “You have even taken my mouth first.” He nodded. His fingers buried themselves in her hair.
“I need you, Valentine. Now. My most vivid dreams could never have captured your real beauty…” A pause while he committed every detail, tactile and visual, of the moment to memory. She melted as he continued, a deep, pure part of himself coming through, radiant in her eyes. “Nou Ah see ye, Ah ken. Ah am yers and ye are mine.” Deep gravel in his speech betrayed his natural accent, even if his native dialect went largely eschewed for his profession’s wonted mannerisms. Another squeak of pleasure escaped her and she shook harder. The heat and wetness inside her were begging, begging her to open, and the words flew from her mouth with no regret.
“Please, please take me! Oh God, prove to me you are a man!”
He needed no further insistence. The wanton desperation in her voice was enough. On fire with his own dire need, he broke from her and turned to his desk. It would have to do. Quickly he cleared aside his papers and put away his books and ink. This gave him a serviceable space on which to stake his claim on the lass. Fortune had seen fit to smile at last upon his unusual, taboo tastes. He could not turn back or allow his worry to sully this long-awaited moment of triumph.
“Little bird, come to me.” She sprang to her feet at his call and stepped forward. All of her mischievous nature welled up inside, and happiness flooded her body. Divine joy, almost, but she had her mind on certain necessary details. He had done wonderfully to make her shiver thus far, but he must keep his will strong to overcome her. He must fight harder and harder to win her entirety. Would he falter in keeping her controlled? Was he willing to try? Valentine smiled broadly. She flitted to his side.
Suddenly his hands were upon her shoulders, and there was possession in his touch. Even his breath came with heavy promises. He spun her. She could not see what he did, but his hands flew down the ties of her corsetry and freed her of the restricting garment. It was so quick and focused it dazzled her, and she could not deny that he seemed an expert in all his movements, like many years of his life had been spent in the art of Domination. Vaguely Valentine wondered what explanation he was delaying, and if she felt he owed her one. Curiosity was certainly at play. What were his secrets that he so took to her confession, and here, fulfilled it without knowing her own?
The girl felt exposed as he threw away the piece, turned her, and surveyed the rest of his property. His gaze was molten. He stepped close and slid his hands under the hem of her chemise. Its lace was no impediment. Soon it was removed, and he fell upon her heavy, milk-white breasts with his lips. The wild lovely creature cried out, her rosy nipple enclosed in the hot mouth of the inexplicable man. August ran his tongue around the hardening point and sucked her lightly, drawing a musical gasp for his effort. It seemed his hands would never get full enough of her globes to sate their craving, but he could not afford to spend eternity at them. Now let us sport us while we may, eh Marvell? Slowly his palms followed the lush curve of her waist in, and out again at her hips, and he slid away the last barrier to his prize.
A dead man could have felt the heat that emanated from her, and the rich scent of her arousal sweetened the air better than the finest French perfume. He drew it in. Pressing her glorious nakedness to him as he stood, August kissed her fiercely, and she grew lost in the scorching dance of their tongues. He maneouvered her backward, and rested the supple flesh of her backside upon his desk. His hands found purchase beneath her thighs, and he lifted, to place her perfectly there.
“Spread your thighs.” Valentine shuddered inside. He had spoken the words from her dreams. Her knees obeyed him shakily, and she opened herself, barely withstanding his white-hot stare. His hands roved freely- playing with her breasts, tracing lines along her sensitive neck, shoulders, and stomach. He stood between her spread knees and kissed her so ferociously she thought her core would melt by it alone. When she was breathless, his mouth travelled downward, and muscles tightened along her entire frame. His lips brushed her collarbone, as did his tongue. The trail journeyed lower, ravaging her breasts with all parts of a sensual mouth, and she squealed at feeling his teeth. The descent continued down her belly, finally to hips and thighs. Her fingers buried themselves in his cocoa-hued hair. She groaned as his insistent tongue licked down the soft flesh of her thigh, and when he bit her playfully, she howled a little, jolting forward.
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