Onboard the Daisy, at sea
September 23, 1773

This story was inspired by the classic erotic novel "Fanny 
Hill," by John Cleland, published in 1749. I recently reread 
it and was interested in trying to write a story in an 18th 
Century style.

My dearest friend Andrew,

      I write you, finding myself in the most retched of 
circumstance having been made a pariah from my father 
and, through his good office, an outcast from that part of 
British society which you and I have, in the past, had such 
enjoyment in our explorations and capers. I have little 
doubt that you have been acquainted with some of the 
circumstance which finds me on a ship bound for Asia to 
take the supervision of my fathers as yet not fully 
accounted for estates in Bombay. It appears that the likes of 
the Indian is to be my fate, making my joys, or more likely 
remembering my joys, among the Hindi, Mohammedan, 
elephants and cobras of the Bengali coast. What pleasures 
of leisure will employ my hands there I have little idea but I 
am sure that they cannot provide the entertainment and 
lovely, refined distraction of London. Alas, my dearest 
friend, no longer will we enjoy the observation of the 
theatre followed by the sensual pleasures of beefsteaks and 
pudding succeeded by brandy and cigars at the club, then to 
stumble to the other parts to enjoy the more earthy 
pleasures of the saloons and bawdyhouses with their fair 
maids supplied in ample numbers for our pleasure. It is 
with great fondness that I remember rising after the noon 
hour, our clothing disheveled and our pockets empty at 
some such establishment as that run by Mrs. J________, 
her pretty maids, their corsets still unlaced, their kisses 
multiple, to stumble to the street, still drunk, to find a coach 
to my rooms. Alas, these things, these wonderful times, 
have escaped me and I will now have to discover new 
entertainment, most certainly in the production of cotton 
and water buffalo hides, as the Lord of the Manor and the 
daily administration of the farmers and manure is my lot. 
Long I will remember the joys of London, I now become 
the heathen. My friend, I must tell you the circumstance of 
my exile, not intending to plead my innocence, but so you, 
knowing me and some of the more unusual tastes which I 
harbor, may fully know the circumstance of my departure. 

	It was with a heavy heart that we bade adieu in May 
past, traveling to our family estates to escape the heat and 
disease of the city. Long I contemplated our reconciliation 
in the fall and our rejoining our cronies in our nightly sport 
on the London streets. It was a dismal summer I anticipated, 
a summer which would be spent inspecting stables, dairies, 
wheat fields and...rock walls. I have never considered the 
production of hens an important issue but I was looking 
forward to one or two fox hunts, a welcome diversion with 
old friends from neighboring estates, and, of course, my 
most dear diversion of angling. My arrival at the estate was 
attended by the entire house staff, a terribly tedious affair 
where I was required to act overjoyed at my return. To be 
sure, I was pleased to see a few old friends who had cared 
for me in my younger days. The old butler, Wayne, was a 
welcome reaquaintence as was the warden, Charles. I was 
also pleased to see my old housekeeper, a woman who used 
to help my nurse and now supervises the entire 
housekeeping staff. The day continued with a tour of the 
estate, I was pleased with the state of the stables but found 
the warehouses lacking and left instructions for greater 
efforts against rats. I spent that evening in the study making 
a full report to my father who would be joining me in two 
month's time. I did feel some quiet comfort as I settled into 
my old rooms, the places which occupied my first years 
were old friends and many happy memories filled me as I 
lay abed that first night, the familiar sounds and smells of 
the old house bringing relaxing reminiscences which 
accompanied me off to sleep.

	So, I quickly took on the cloak of the country 
gentleman, making daily rounds of the farms and orchards, 
inspecting the livestock and, as the Lord of the Manor, 
acting as a petty magistrate to the petty feuds between the 
petty cottagers of my estate. I did have several enjoyable 
afternoon pheasant hunts with the warden as my guide and, 
in June, there was a fox hunt on a neighboring estate which 
provided a days distraction. There was also the "coming 
out" of a neighbor's daughter, a gaily arranged affair in a 
wonderful garden complete with a chamber orchestra and 
ice sculptures. It is regrettable that the paramour of the 
gathering was a rather dull girl, fat with stringy hair, a 
sickly tallowed complexion, no discernable humor and bad 
teeth. Her gown was white with pink roses which were 
soon joined with reminders of virtually every food that she 
ate, of which there was much. She spent the entire 
afternoon no more than a score of feet from the buffet, I'm 
not sure which the flies found more interesting, the roast 
pork or her. I escaped this gathering as soon as was 
decently convenient and the evening found me at the 
village inn where I drank down my boredom and awoke in 
the morning in a strange room with a local milk maid, a 
buxom and cheerful sort of girl who I wish I could 
remember more about. What I do remember was waking 
with my head cradled between two enormous breasts which 
formed the superior peaks of a great landmass of flesh. My 
charge looked at me accusally having spent the night in a 
strange stable, and did his best to brush me off on every 
convenient tree while we made our way back to the house. 
The staff was discreet enough not to comment on my 
absence or the condition of my return.

	The conditions of my downfall from the graces of 
my sire began one day in July, a day which dawned clear 
with a warm breeze from the south. After I had completed 
the daily drudgery of the estate, I decided on an afternoon 
in pursuit of a rather large trout which had, thus far, evaded 
my invitations to dinner by expertly throwing the hook. The 
beast lived in a pool which is several hundreds of feet 
below the mill, a quiet secluded place more often attended 
to by damselflies and woodchucks than larger beasts, which 
nestles among old oaks and maple trees and an especially 
thick underbrush of brambly thorns punctuated by the 
occasional blaze of daffodils. The pond sits at a bend of the 
creek, a bend necessitated by a series of large boulders on 
one side which divert the water, opposite the rocks is a 
beach of course sand and rounded stones which are perfect 
for skipping, a pursuit which I became expert at as a boy. 
At the foot of the rocks, the water reaches a depth of at 
least six feet, then the bottom rises slowly until, at the 
centre, it reaches ones hips then continues its rise to the 
opposite shore.

Upon arriving at the pond, I withdrew my feet from my 
boots and rolled up the cuffs of my breeches to wade into 
the water. By now, the water had lost its sharp coldness and 
was a refreshing coolness on a hot day. I stood, knee deep, 
and cast my line for my trout who I knew to laze his 
afternoons in a crevice between the two larger boulders. It 
was my hope that a small piece of sausage may rouse his 
appetite and bring him forth so he may quench mine at 
dinner that evening. But, alas, it was not to be, either he 
was well sated from a breakfast of crawfish or he was 
spending his afternoon at another's haunt for, regardless of 
the accuracy of my cast or the patience of my heart, all I 
managed to land were three rather puny perch who I 
returned to their families in the hope that they would make 
me a better breakfast in the fall. As the afternoon 
progressed and my luck with the local fish faded the 
oppression of the day's heat began to tell on my enjoyment 
of the bird's songs and squirrel's capers in the trees which 
ov'rstratched the brook. A certain laziness came across me 
and I surmised that an afternoon's brief nap on the rocks 
opposite was highly desirable. So, I retreated to the low 
bank but then contemplated my course to the opposite side. 
The walk would not be easy and would require careful 
picking my way through to brambles after the short 
distance to where the stream narrowed and I could step 
from rock to rock on my way across. This did not lend 
itself to me, neither did the idea of laying on the lumpy 
stones beneath my feet, so I surmised that my best course 
of action was to cross directly, invading the fishes domain 
by way of a short swim and easy climb up the roots of an 
old elm tree to the top of the rocks.

So, rather than again enclosing my feet in the rude leather 
of my boots, I instead freed my arms and torso from the 
covering of the white cotton shirt I was wearing and then I 
freed the rest of me from the encumbrance of the canvas 
breeches. I now walked into the water in the natural 
condition in which I was admitted to this world and joined 
all the animals in their nakedness, to frolic with the fish. I 
discovered the coolness and freedom of the water to be 
reinvigorating and took to swimming about, diving deep to 
the bottom, and checking on the haunt of my late pursuit. It 
was when I had come close to the sandy shore and was 
standing in water that barely reached above my knees that I 
noticed that there was an observer, a flash of auburn hair 
beneath a black bonnet, a rose coloured cheek among the 
leaves. I quickly averted my eye so as not to give the 
interloper reason to believe that she had been observed, this 
at first to avoid the embarrassment of a meeting with me in 
such a abnormal state but then, realizing that my audience 
was a young girl who had recently joined the kitchen staff, 
I found the idea of being observed, spied upon, in such a 
circumstance strangely alluring, so I decided to ignore the 
child and see how long she would remain. Thus, I made a 
good show of it, insuring that she was fully acquainted with 
all the normally covered aspects of my manhood. This, and 
just the thought that she may find the site of me in some 
way winsome caused in me the beginning of that liveliness 
of the middle parts which is usually reserved for more 
developed members of the female sex. I decided that the 
appropriate course was the one I had already planed so, 
after a few minutes where I pretended to be searching for 
something among the rocks, and after skipping two stones 
down the creek, I went back into the water and swam to the 
side opposite to pull myself out on the roots of the afore 
mentioned tree and settle on the large boulder to sun myself 
and, perhaps sleep.

A sidelong glance showed the girl to still be in the bushes 
on the far bank but moving, slowly to a point which I 
surmised would provide her with a better place for 
observation. Now my pulse quickened with the thought that 
she was actually finding excess curiosity at observing me 
and this, in turn, caused a greater rush of vivaciousness to 
that member which, in turn, caused me to have the greater 
desire. Thus, upon insuring to myself that the girl was 
settled, I laid upon a course which would give her much 
thought and wonderment as I endeavored to provide for 
myself with that pleasure which is normally reserved for 
the act of two. I found the entire circumstance so 
enthralling that I was soon relieved of that essence which is 
better spent in warmer, moister, places but can, of necessity, 
be expelled under less productive, and usually, less 
enjoyable, circumstances. I again checked and was assured 
that my little spy was still present, hidden among the 
undergrowth between two large moss covered rocks. And 
so, I lay and feigned to sleep, waiting for her to move. 
After at least ten minutes, I sensed a shift in the colors 
among the shrubbery and rocks and became convinced that 
she was attempting to creep off into the forest. I made to 
look like I had just noticed her and sat up, looking directly 
in her direction and called to her in a commanding voice to 
halt. At this, she froze, then followed my commands to 
come forth out of the bushes and show herself on the banks 
of the stream. She was reveled to be a girl, of maybe a 
dozen years, (she is, in fact, eleven) dressed in a simple, 
straight black dress, her full and unruly auburn hair being 
tucked under a dark blue bonnet with white lace. In the 
shadows of this hood was a bright face with full 
cheekbones, green eyes, an upturned nose and full pink lips. 
I stood up, making no real attempt to cover myself but I am 
sure that she, at a distance of about 20 paces, would have 
had a full inspection of my form had she not averted my 
eyes. I swam to the middle of the stream, that is to say, to 
that point where the water will reach my waist, where I 
stopped and stood up.

"Child, my britches are on yonder bush, I bid you bring 
them to the water's edge." With this command she quickly 
complied, then, "Turn around while I dress myself." She 
stood with her back to the water as I came out and, trying 
not to fall on the unsure footing of the beach stones, pulled 
my pants on, then laced them. I was now shirtless, but no 
longer in so natural a state as to cause a high degree of 
consternation in one of such tender years or fair a demeanor.

"What is your name, Child?" I enquired.

"Rachel, my Lord."

"And how comes that you may be spying on me rather than 
accomplishing your duties in the kitchens?"

"My mistress gave me leave to go, the days being so warm 
that we rose early to complete the baking before the heat. 
She said that I need employ myself until it was time to set 
the table for your tea. As the butler said that you had gone 
and he didn't expect you until the late afternoon, I decided 
that a walk in the fields and woods would do for me."

I stood in silence for several moments and inspected the 
girl. Except for the occasional stray leaf and the afore 
mentioned unruly hair, she was simply and appropriately 
dressed for a person of her station. I recalled that she was 
the daughter of a cottager whose house had burned the past 
Eastertide, leaving her a penniless orphan and that my 
father had taken her on as a charity. "So, is it proper for 
you to sneak through the bushes and covertly observe your 
lord at his leisure?" To this, I saw a rapid blush spreading 
from her neck to her face and up to her forehead. She still 
had not looked up, instead averting her eyes down and to 
the side.

"I'm sorry sir," was all she whispered and I observed a tear 
forming in her eye.

I reached down and lifted her chin, looking at her face 
while I softened my countenance. "Well, child, while you 
are here, you may as well help me in my endeavor. There is 
an especially large trout who haunts at the base of yonder 
rocks and I have been trying to arrange his attendance at 
my table for several weeks now, but he has been persistent 
in his refusals. The bait which I brung with me this day 
provided an early luncheon for several perch which were 
too puny for my attention and I returned to their mothers. I 
am now in need of morsels more acceptable to the trout 
pallet and I am wondering if you may assist me in locating 
some particularly fat and juicy crawfish."

It was astonishing to see the girl's face o'rtaken with a 
childish joy. "Ay, my Lord, yonder is a log which shelters 
many a crawfish," she said pointing. I could see that she 
was actually very familiar with the environs and, taking my 
hand, she led me down stream to point across a small sandy 
pool to an overhanging tree. 

"Why, my dear! I am truly indebted to you for this 
intelligence," I said as I waded into the ankle deep water 
and approached the tree from a direction which would keep 
my shadow from frightening my quary. But, when I 
reached for a particularly large beast, he easily evaded my 
grasp, and after three more attempts and splashes, I heard 
the giggles of the child on the bank. "Oh Sir, you will have 
to be quicker than that!"

With some feigned irritation, I welcomed the child's 
assistance, if she was at all practiced at the art of capturing 
the unwilling crustaceans. She promptly sat down among 
the stones and began unlacing her shoes which, along with 
dark stockings, was left on the rocks. Then, rolling and 
tying her long skirt up at her knees, she waded in with me. 
She was obviously very practiced at capturing small 
animals because, with the first dart of her hand, she brought 
forth a large but somewhat unwilling crawfish. She didn't 
complain at all as I pried it loose from the skin between two 
of her fingers then hooked the creature through the 
carapace. After I had cast the hook again across to the base 
of the rock, standing in water to my thighs and wetting my 
pants, I called back to my audience standing on the shore, 
"I regret not having a pole, twine, and hook for you."

"Oh, my Lordship, I know naught of angling," she said.

"Well," I replied, "I will have to correct that omission in 
your education." I was silent for a few moments. "But, it is 
getting late and you should return to your mistress child."

The child looked at the sun, then sat down and started 
pulling on her stockings, "Yes, sire," she said, her voice 
and entire countenance falling as she was ordered back to 
her labour. I felt an instant of regret, the child was quite 
fetching and seemed to have an especially ebullient 
personality which made her company particularly agreeable.

"Rachel," she looked at me directly and with a little shock 
be my using her Christian name, "I will teach you how to 
fish the next opportunity I have to waste a day in the hunt 
for our finned friends."

"Thank you, my lord," she seemed to brighten. By now she 
had restored her apparel to its previous condition. "By your 
grace, sir, I will return to the kitchen." She curtsied 
summarily and scampered into the woods leaving me to 
catalog the remembrance of the afternoon and muse on my 
curious reaction to her presence and an even more irregular 
desire I had to expand on it. That evening, in bed, I again 
took that solo pleasure, this time thinking about my little 
auburn haired friend. I had had such a visceral reaction 
upon seeing her removing her stockings, I savored the 
remembrance of her rounded feet, thin ankles and smooth 
calves the backs of which were decorated with a spray of 
beige freckles on her pink skin. I recalled the feeling of her 
plump hand and little fingers and tried to reckon what their 
replacement of my own appendages would be. I drifted off, 
thinking of her auburn hair, lit by the dim light of the 
quarter moon, laying on my pillow.

The following day dawned as the previous, the promise of a 
clear sky was unquestionable and I soon decided on a 
course which would start as a repeat of the last. Upon 
completing my luncheon, about noon, I acquainted Wayne 
with my intention to spend the afternoon in the company of 
fish again. He inquired if I required the assistance of the 
warden and I said no, that the warden was being sent to a 
distant farm to assess the recent offspring of a certain 
beagle bitch who is well know as an expert at tracking the 
fox. As he was leaving, as an aside, I said, "Wayne, there is 
a certain girl working in the kitchens, Rachel is her name. I 
was talking to her yesterday and promised to teach how to 
fish. If the kitchen mistress can due without her labors 
today, she may join me at two."

"Very well, Sir," he said as he bowed out of the dining 
room. "I will speak to the cook."

And so it was, I was found sitting on the boulders I had 
feigned sleep on the day before, sitting with my feet 
hanging toward the water, a line falling 4 feet down to the 
realm of my trout, when I heard the sound of two bells in 
the church over a mile away. The air was still and the day's 
heat was beginning to approach the uncomfortable, I had 
already loosened my collar and removed my boots and it 
was with some keenness that I anticipated my consociate. It 
was only ten minutes later that she appeared on the bank 
opposite.

"Hello!" I called.

"I am here, my lord."

"Step across the rocks yonder," I called pointing, "and join 
me on my perch." I watched as she expertly skipped from 
stone to stone, then climbed the steep bank, gaining my 
rock as only one accustom to making her way through the 
wood could do. "I see that you are not unacquainted with 
these woods," I said. "Sit down next to me."

"Ay, sir. Before...." She paused, "before I came to live 
under your roof, I used to visit these woods often."

"Well, you are well met here," I said in a cheery voice, 
hoping to take her mind off of other subjects. "Bring 
yonder pole and I will teach ye angling." We spent the next 
minutes in discussion of how to judge the length of the 
string, the advantages of certain bates and where fish can 
be expected. I had brought a hunk of cheese as bait and we 
soon settled companionly down to await our luck. In less 
than five minutes, Rachel let out a holler as her pole 
seemed to take on a life of its own. With some amusing 
discussion, she retracted to pole, then grasped the line and 
landed a marvelous little perch, a pretty child of no more 
than 4 inches. Through laughs and shouts, we were able to 
disengage the little fellow from the hook and send him back 
to his watery environs, much relieved, I am sure. It was 
after we had rebaited and returned her hook to the water 
that I noticed the child fidgeting uncomfortably.

"Child, it is an uncommon hot day and do not let modesty 
stand in the way of your comfort. I bid you to remove your 
heavy shoes and set aside your bonnet," I said. She handed 
me her pole and, pulling her feet up from the side of the 
rock, began to unlace her shoes. As she worked, she pulled 
her skirt up to her knees and, oh, the wondrous flesh of the 
knees and thighs. With the hem bunched just above her 
knees and falling then over her thighs, there was reveled for 
me such a stretch of pink skin, this too ornamented with a 
spray of beige spots. She withdrew her first leg from its 
brown woolen coverings and, again, I marveled at the 
beauty of the child's feet and calves. I watched as she then 
unlaced her other shoe and removed her other stocking, the 
sight leaving me more breathless than any of the sweet 
working girls in London. She replace her legs over the 
ledge and made a show of putting her dress to rights, as 
little girls are taught by observation of their older sisters. 
Next she untied the ribbon at her throat and pulled her 
bonnet off, shaking out a mass of red waves, the sun 
reflecting in iridescent rainbows from her hair. Nowhere 
have I seen a greater glory as in the mane which now 
sparkled in the sunlight, liberated and shaken out for all 
nature to admire. Without thinking, the site of this glorious 
coiffure, I reached across and inserted my hand, pushing 
my fingers among the soft filaments and gently stroking the 
child's head.

"Oh sir, I do so enjoy being here," she said and, as my hand 
reached the far side of her head and traversed down her 
shoulder and back, she leaned against me, putting her head 
against my shoulder and I could feel a state of contentment 
pass through her. That is when I realized just how dismal 
this child's life must be, her family ripped from her to then 
come and live in a servant's quarters with no friends and no 
one her age, there to toil as an adult must toil and never 
indulge in the carefree times which all children seem to 
manage to enjoy. And so, we sat in silence for several 
minutes, a time punctuated only by my landing of the exact 
same perch and a certain whooping and laughing that went 
with his escape from my hand only to fall off the back of 
the rock into the undergrowth from where Rachel retrieved 
him and returned him to his rightful environment. It was 
when this shenanigan was complete and we were again 
settled that I suggested that, the fishing being a non-
productive enterprise, and the day being unaccountable 
warm, that we may find refreshment in a swim.

"Oh, me lord, I know naught about swimming," she said.

"What, did not your friends and companions spend time in 
this very stream farther down, where it flows through the 
fields near the granary?" I asked, for I had often observed 
children playing in those waters.

"Nay sir, my father would have forbid such foolery. If we 
had had such time for recreation, it would have been spent 
in prayer."

"Oh, many times my brother and I spent at this very place, 
enjoying to coolness of the water. Come, we will leave our 
fishing poles here and move to yonder bank where the 
entrance to the water is more gentle. She started to pull her 
shoes back on and I told her to desist as she would just be 
removing them again and so, with bare feet and turned up 
hems, we made our way to the other side. Upon achieving 
our goal, the rocky shore of the sandbank, I removed my 
shirt and hung it on a convenient branch. Then, as I started 
to unbuckle my belt, said, "Come, Child, let loose your 
clothing for to return to the house with drenched attire 
would only cause Charlotte (the housekeeper) a great level 
of consternation." With this urging, my interest unbuttoned 
three buttons at the neck of her dress, then opened the top 
worked it over her frame to step out of it and lay it across 
the branches of the same shrub which held my shirt. She 
now stood before me in her shift, a straight sleeveless 
garment of muslin, closed at the top by a few buttons and, 
as its only ornament, a thin stripe of lace at the neckline. I 
had, by this time, unbuckled my belt and was in the process 
of pulling my breeches free of my legs. My partner took my 
action as direction and, after looking shyly around, lifted 
her shift free of her frame and lay it alongside her dress. 
We were now both completely free of manmade coverings, 
clothed only in that sublime garment which God had 
provided us. My breath came short when I beheld my 
friend, naked in the bright sun, a goddess next to the water.

I took her hand and led her into the water, at first stepping 
lightly due to the uneven footing provided by the stones, 
but then more surely as we gained the water for, near the 
shore, the stones gave way to a firm sandy shoal under the 
surface. Upon reaching a depth of water which reached my 
midsection, Rachel became alarmed, the water having 
reached her chest, so we stopped and, with reassuring 
words, I calmed her and had her take my hands, then lift 
her feet off the sand and make some preliminary kicking 
motions. Then, thinking demonstration would be a better 
form of instruction than description, I left her standing to 
show her the means with which I propelled myself through 
the water and kept my head out. I also demonstrated the 
technique of holding my breath and swimming under. Of 
course, I took this opportunity to approach my inamorata 
from the underneath. Regretfully, the action of the water 
against my eyes obscured my view to the most cursory, 
allowing me an impression of shapes and colors which did 
little but flair my imagination of the charms which were 
now hidden. Upon rising next to her, I took hold of her 
waist and held her in the water, her stomach down, her 
head craning out, and encouraged her in those movements 
which would allow her to swim. This allowed me a full 
inspection of her dorsal, a long expanse of pink flesh, her 
shoulders now covered by her hair, floating around her and 
stained a darker hue by the water. Her back is smooth, then 
the flair to the most desirable of twin orbs, soft mounds of 
almost white flesh, wonderfully rounded. Below these, 
stretched the reaches of her thighs, again a glorious expanse 
of white and smooth skin.  A description here, must be 
presented of one of her more, to me, alluring characteristics, 
that being her freckles. There are few places where these 
lovely beige spots, this peppering of a darker hue, does not 
cover her. Her face and hands are, of course, gaily 
decorated by them, as are her shoulders down to the small 
of her back where they become sparse, leaving a smooth 
pink expanse until the area just below her knees where they 
start again.

Observing this thing of beauty, this gift of the greatest 
comeliness to pass into my hands, had the expected effect 
on my manly interests as I experienced that tightening in 
my loins and a certain giddiness of emotion. Setting her 
again on her feet, I said, "One can also swim on the back, 
in fact, if duration is of importance, to float on one's back 
is the most advantageous position." At this I fell back, 
spreading my arms high and that firm, but not yet fully 
armed, member was broken to the surface. As I floated I 
was pleased to watch her eye, as it dwelled on that part of 
my anatomy and a light blush filled her throat and face. 
Thus I back paddled for several moments, both 
demonstrating the advantages of swimming such and 
providing the girl with a full accounting of my less seen 
parts. Then I returned to her and said, "Lie on your back 
thus, I will support you as needed." I put my hand in the 
small of her back and, with my other against her upper 
chest, slowly and gently lay her into the water. Oh! What a 
beautiful sight met my eyes as I looked upon her, laying on 
her back, her arms outstretched, that I fear my powers of 
description will communicate but a paltry shade of the 
reality.

I have already described to you, my friend, her wondrous 
mane, that auburn crown and mantle which falls from her 
head half way to her waist. These locks, which in the sun 
are the colour of burnished copper, were now darkened by 
the water and spread over the surface to provide a frame for 
her extraordinary features in the way of a face. Her 
forehead is, in the form of her Celtic origins, broad and 
domed above thin eyebrows, again the colour of copper, 
which seem to vanish against the backdrop of pink skin. 
Her eyes, widely set, are green with small flecks of brown 
in them around, and they are clear and, as I was to learn, 
were usually laughing with some prank or private 
amusement. Below these are lovely full and rounded 
cheekbones. Her nose is smallish and upturned above full 
fleshy lips, themselves just a shade or two darker than her 
skin. She has white and straight teeth above what is 
actually a bit of a weak chin, small and fragile looking. Her 
skin is wonderfully soft and smooth, a light pink colour 
which has been sprayed with a very generous number of 
small beige freckles which only work to enhance her 
comeliness, giving her a girlish charm. Her shoulders are 
broad and strong, for a girl only a half score years old. She 
is not fat, but does possess a comfortable fullness which 
softens and rounds her shape. Her breasts show no sign of 
impending womanhood, a darker area, no larger than a 
h'penny, provide a cap to where her bosoms will be. Here 
too, in fact, over her entire frontal portion, are the 
ubiquitous freckles, spreading down her neck, marching 
across her chest and down her stomach. But, oh, the site of 
those parts below her stomach! First, however, her navel is 
an elliptical cavity, perfectly proportioned and lovely 
crafted. Then, below an expanse of softness, is the rise of 
that most female. A roundness lifts up, bisected by the cleft, 
the gates of her womanliness. These are full and rounded 
but still do not escape the freckles which seem to entirely 
coat her skin. The gates are large, momentarily pushing 
flesh of her thighs apart, then forcing them into two, 
smaller companion clefts, these being false promises of the 
wonders which hide between the folds of the main. From 
here extend her thighs, soft, round expanses not spared the 
full measure of beige spotting.

Rachel knew, she saw, mine taking her in and, I believe, 
she saw the admiration in my expression, for she looked up 
at me with an expression of gracious surrender, a look with 
which she promised herself to me so long as I found her 
gratifying. The moment was so keen that I lost my powers 
of speech as I looked upon her. Then I slowly set her back 
on her feet and, after a moment's silence during which an 
enormous tome was communicated, we started our 
swimming lesson again.  This only lasted another ten 
minutes or so until we ended with my swimming with my 
interest holding on my back, her arms around my neck, her 
legs clamped around my hips. I swum to the roots of the 
tree holding upon the boulders we had earlier occupied and 
suggested we climb up to dry in the warmth of the sun. 
This she did, going before me and, as she did, I was 
rewarded with a glimpse of that secret place, the mound 
and cleft which extends down betwixt the woman's legs. 
But this, here, was not hidden by the normal covering of 
curls which hides this wonder from view. Here, it was 
proud and free, a beckoning reminder of future womanhood 
and also, a powerful elixir to my desire. 

Soon, we were laying on the rock, Rachel on her back, 
myself next to her, on my side, propped up on one elbow, 
admiring her form. I do not remember the conversation, but 
I do remember reaching across her to caress her far areola, I 
remember my delight at seeing it harden and rise under my 
soft touches, I remember Rachel closing her eyes and 
emitting a long breath as a new and unique sense of passion 
was transmitted through her frame. I remember moving my 
fingers along that womanly cleft, to open the gates and 
caress the soft folds within. I remember her soft moan as I 
moved my finger along and touched the stiffening 
protuberance, that "little man in the boat," as she raised her 
knees and further spread her legs. I remember the soft 
smooth feeling of her skin against my part, it being stiff 
against her thigh. I remember her sharp intake of breath as I 
probed deeper in her, testing her maidenhead and her 
request to be gentle, to not cause her pain. I remember 
watching her shake as she was overcome with that pinnacle 
of climax, shuddering and moaning and I remember this 
pushing me and the sensation of my seminal emission 
against her thigh and side, my holding her leg between 
mine as I was overcome, spraying the white froth of my 
manliness in long stripes across her thigh, some reaching 
across her belly and a drop even landing on her arm 
opposite. More had been spread in lines across her 
womanly rise, to lay across that small furrow of her sex. 
Then, upon observing my seed spread over her most soft 
and warm flesh, she started to laugh.

"Oh! My lord. Ye put me in remembrance of an old ram 
which me father had. Er'ed be so overcome with passion 
for the ewe that e'd leave his seed sprayed on her 
hindquarters. That'd disgust me father to no end!"

We both rolled with laughter which I soon silence with my 
mouth on hers, then to feel her lips, then teeth, then tongue 
with mine as we embraced, arms and legs intertwined, her 
hair mixing with mine, falling over us both. Thus we spent 
the next considerable fraction of the afternoon, cuddled 
together on the rock by the stream, a happy couple learning 
each other's pleasures.


During a quiet moment, I was looking down on her, she 
was gazing back up with abandon, knowing the intense 
pleasure which her sight gave me. Those gates to her 
womanhood, the rise and perfect shape of the heart with the 
crease was just too much of a temptress for me and I leaned 
down, my hair free and falling on her hips, and kissed those 
other lips. In so doing, I released an heretofore unknown 
drive to lick, to taste, to suck, to consume. I believe it was 
the remarkable smoothness and cleanness of her pre-
pubescent construction, the loveliness of a woman's charms 
without the covering of fur, which drove me. I know not 
what, but the perfect smoothness and slickness of these 
parts to my tongue, the subtle scent and light taste drove me. 
I felt her hands in my hair, pushing me and directing me as 
she pressed herself up against my face, her knees bent, one 
of her feet flat on the rock under my left shoulder, her other 
looped over my arm and pushing into the rock next to my 
ribs. Her desire reached an incredible crescendo as she 
positively yelled, a loud moan which filled the woods, I'm 
sure drawing the attention of many of the creatures which 
were near, witnessing our passion. With this she also 
pressed me against her, her parts opened up fully, my 
tongue deep in that place which is normally the home for 
other parts of a man.

Now she calmed, making low squeeking noises as she 
melted against the stone. I sat up on my knees, between her 
legs, and surveyed the goddess creature laying there, her 
face still flush, her nipples rising as small cones above the 
flat chest, the ribs heaving to catch her breath, the open lips, 
fully exposing the folds and mounds between, now 
glistening with her wetness and my saliva. She looked 
down at me and giggled, then looked lower and, seeing my 
staff, standing tall out from my loins, bouncing with my 
heart, it seemed a different personae swept over her face.

She sat up, then reached out and grasped me, sliding her 
behind under her so she could sit. Now she grabbed me 
with both hands and looked straight at the unsheathed head. 
With a wicked smile, she looked up at me and, brushing her 
hair back, she leaned forward and admitted my manhood 
into her mouth. Oh! the exquisite sensation of the wetness 
and mix of feelings within. The hard but smooth slickness 
of her pallet, the roughness of her tongue, the gentle 
scraping of her teeth, the firm lines of pressure from her 
lips! She worked me in and out, sucking me deep into her, 
pushing my bulb against the back of her throat as I knelt 
between her knees. Several times she licked the length of 
my shaft, once kissing and then sucking those pendulous 
additions below, then to return to the sucking and pistoning 
of my manhood in her mouth.

As my passion grew, I warned her of the impending 
explosion, but this only seemed to make her redouble her 
efforts, pulling me repeatedly into her oral cavity, putting 
an almost painful vacuum on my most sensitive parts. She 
grunted when my first splash of seed flooded into her 
mouth, some leaking around her fastened lips. As more of 
me flowed out, I could feel her hungrily swallowing my 
manly effusion. Each movement of her mouth was met with 
another emission of my spore. Then, as my flow lessoned, 
she continued her vacuum, pulling the last of my seminal 
fluids from me, causing my intense pleasure to even pass 
that boundary to where it becomes pain. As I fell from my 
apogee of passion, I sank back onto my heals, panting. She 
sat, her knees wide, one hand supporting her behind, the 
other wiping a small remaining drop of my sperm from her 
chin. Then she laughed ruefully, "My sire, ye seem most 
overcome."

With this, I sprung forward and we rolled in a laughing, 
tickling, warming embrace which soon calmed to a lovely 
meeting, she laying atop me, her head tucked under my 
chin, my arm across her back. One of her legs extended 
down between mine, my now spent member comfortable 
against her hip, her sex on my hip, her other leg folding 
down, her knee on the stone which made our bed. She was 
soon sleeping and I even dozed softly for a few minutes 
until the hard rock began to press into certain places. I 
resisted the desire to move, allowing my lover a 
comfortable twenty minutes sleep before I had to move.

With her awakening, we talked. I questioned her about her 
life on my estate and her labors. She seemed reluctant to 
talk of her coworkers or the conditions of her employment 
other than to express gratitude for my family's indulgence 
of an orphaned girl who could have just as well been turned 
out onto the streets of the local village. We talked of her 
life before coming into my care and, again, she described a 
somewhat bleak time of work on a sheep farm, her 
mother's preoccupation with her spiritual salvation denying 
her the companionship of her peers on neighboring farms. 
Her mother had died of a fever around the harvest time last 
year and that had left her to make a home for her widowed 
pa. 

This brought to light certain facts which I had, in the back 
of my mind, suspected, that being that she was somewhat 
acquainted previously with the characters of a man's sex. 
Although she was subtle in her intimation, and seemed to 
fear that the revelation would lesson my desire for her, the 
story can be surmised by certain off hand comments, 
occasional slips of information, that I can now piece 
together. Not all this information was received on this 
occasion, but over a time of two weeks during which we 
spent many private hours.

Her father had taken to attending the tavern in the village 
on occasion and would return without the full control of his 
faculties. Once, he returned with a lass who also 
occasioned the establishment (from her description, I 
suspect her the same girl who had bedded me not two 
weeks earlier) and Rachel, fining sleep, had witnessed their 
frolicking. Not long after, her father had also apparently 
requested and instructed Rachel in the relief of his 
masculine desires, this done in her bed, he laying on his 
back and her kneeling next to him. Apparently, at these 
times, neither of them had fully disrobed and he never 
attempted to provide to her a return of the service which he, 
gently, requested. Rachel came to both anticipate these 
times, wanting to please her father, and feel saddened 
because, for days afterward, her would be somewhat distant.

 As the low'ring sun made the shadows of trees on the 
opposite bank fall over us, my darling Rachel remembered 
her obligation to the mistress of the kitchens and bade me 
farewell, walking as a wood sprite to the stepping stones, 
carrying her shoes, to the other shore where I, with great 
disappointment, watched her don her garments. Then, with 
the liveliness which I have come to love beyond distraction, 
she blew me a kiss and, giggling, ran off through the wood, 
leaving me to ponder the events of the afternoon and come 
to realize that I had been hooked, more securely than any 
trout which I may desire.

That evening, she stood at the doorway to the kitchen as I 
took my dinner. Oh, how I wished I could have invited her 
to sit with me! Upon finishing the meal of mutton chops 
and boiled potatoes, I asked the servant to insure that I was 
supplied with brandy in my study. To this she assented and, 
going ahead of me, was filling a glass from the decanter as 
I entered, lighting a cigar from the mantel in the parlor. My 
young lover came to me, cherishing the crystal stem in her 
hands, and presented me with my aperitif with a slight 
curtsy and large eyes. I took the glass and thanked her, 
holding her gaze longer than is usual, and bade her to bring 
my lap desk and quill as I sat. Then, once settled, I 
continued with a tedious letter to my aunt. Rachel asked her 
leisure to return to the kitchen but, insuring that there was 
no one around to hear, I called her near. "Rachel, I have 
found myself captivated," I whispered. "For these hours, I 
have thought naught but to have dwelled on you. In you I 
am entrap'd! Ye hath turned me, I have spent the last 
several years avoiding love, but you have broken me!" Her 
face showed an expression of confusion and alarm. "I must 
have your love, your continence or I am nothing!"

"Sir!" she responded. "I am your servant, me pa was a 
sheep farmer on your estate! I am too modest a person to 
give justice to your station."

"My station be damned!" I raised my voice, her face 
shewed alarm. "What is my station if I can't love on one as 
wondrous as you? If ye father was but a sheep farmer, he 
be the god of all such! I love you! I care naught for sheep 
or station!"

Rachel stood in shock, our eyes locked. "If you choose, I 
beg ye, tonight, make your way to my chambers. I promise, 
this night, ye are my heart." We were silent for over a 
minute as I considered these impromptu expressions which 
seemed to come from reaches of my soul I did not know. I 
watched as these thoughts ran through her mind and a 
certain softening of expression o'took her. "Do not use a 
candle, as this will alarm the others, but come, please! I  
ask, I beg, not as your Master, but as a man who awaits 
your interest. Come, Come! When the clock beats out the 
eleventh hour, if ye be not at my door, I will be a broken 
man!"

"My lord," she spoke in a hushed voice, "I am a kitchen 
worker, I am naught to you, plainly, ye can't love me?"

"Ah," I locked her in my gaze, grasping her collar, "you are 
the most captivating creature in God's creation. My heart 
has found new meaning in your pleasure. My estate is 
naught to my passion for you. You must come, or I be more 
retched than can be imagined! The master is the slave, my 
very soul stands on your disgression. Come to me tonight! 
Or my passion for all that is lovely will wane from my 
life!"

At this, the child was silent, a considering expression on 
her face. I pulled her to me and kissed her, feeling her 
soften, feeling her remembrance of the afternoon's passions. 
"As the quarter moon reached the heights, I will come, my 
lord." Then, tearing herself from my grasp, she ran from 
the room.

It was with great agitation that I suffered the hours of that 
eve. In the looking glass I considered the face which had 
been there for the past score and two years. I yelled to my 
manservant for a warm basin of water and a razor and 
cleaned that face. Then I ordered my bed linens changed 
and the lamp filled with fresh and scented spermaceti. Then, 
in a rage of anticipation, I ordered them all out of my 
rooms, naught to return until the cock crowed. A fresh 
decanter of water and claret sat near as I attempted, 
unsuccessfully, to pay proper attention to a book. Then, 
when the chimes of Winchester sounded out the half hour 
after ten o'clock, I lowered the light and waited in the dark, 
observing the quarter moon skirting puffy clouds which 
continued to march from the south on a breeze that lifted 
the curtains with a warm breath.

I was watching the King of the Roman pantheon being 
brushed by the branches of a large elm when there came a 
small rapping at my door. I near tore the door from its 
portal, the act startling Rachel. She stood, wearing only a 
shift, her hair free around her shoulders. I grasped her hand 
and pulled her in, crossing mine own with the finger of my 
other hand, then gently closed the door. Then she was in 
my arms, our mouths merged, our tongues in fierce sword 
play. I felt her body against mine, small but firm, her arms 
traced up my back. After an interval which provided me 
with a glimpse of rapture, I pushed her away, then pulled 
my shirt over my head. Then we were again in each others 
arms but, now, I explored down her back to feel the firm 
round place. I slowly gathered the fabric of her shift up, till 
my fingertips brushed the soft skin. With this, my own 
male body came up betwixt us, pressing against her 
stomach through the fabric of our coverings. I pushed her 
back, then lifted the shift free of her, taking her in with the 
grays, blacks, and silvers which the moon would provide. 
Next I stepped out of mine own garment and then sat her on 
the settee which faced the window. In the dim light of the 
waxing moon she appeared a goddess of the night, lay 
before me, her arms at her sides, her hips on the edge of the 
seat, her legs slightly parted, that most perfect slotted 
aperture disappearing in the darkness between her thighs.

I knelt at her feet and slowly parted her knees, opening 
those parts for me. With my tongue, I traced the rise of her 
sex, then moved along her cleft, pushing deeper to pass 
over the firm button and taste her soft, mild womanly 
scents. With this, a sigh escaped her, almost a moan as she 
put her hands on my head, fingers tracing through my hair. 
As her desires grew, so I increased my efforts, pushing my 
tongue inside her woman's place. Her hands were roughly 
massaging my scalp when she was overcome, a low cry 
escaping her as she lifted feet free and pulled my hair.

Now I straightened up and moved in to brush my 
unsheathed bulb along that furrow, parting the lips and 
pressing in. With a sharp intake of breath she asked I not 
hurt her, but take her gradually. I could not bring upon 
myself any desire which would hurt this child, so I moved 
slowly, carefully moving inside her. But, alas, the friction 
was too great for her not to feel a discomfort and I was 
soon to despair of my desires when I realized the solution. 
Taking some of the fine whale oil from the lamp, I dribbled 
some down her and she giggled with the feeling. Then, oh 
wonders, I slid into her. I felt the small give and she gasped 
as her maidenhead gave up its defense of her virginity, then 
half my shaft, a full four inches, sank into this child 
become woman. With that, I started a slow rhythmic 
thrusting, moving myself in and out of her as her raised her 
hips to meet me, her thighs against my ribs, her feet in the 
air behind me. For a time she crossed her feet behind my 
back, holding me to her, and lifted up, kissing my neck. 
She leaned forward, pushing me back until I landed, prone 
on the floor with her in the dominant position, kneeling 
astride mine own hips. She rocked, impaling herself on me, 
sometimes covering my face with her kisses, sometimes 
lifting up and looking at me, her face obscured in the 
shadow of her mane which fell over my face, neck and 
chest. When, in ecstasy, she threw her head back I 
glimpsed the veins of her neck tracing a fair line down her 
throat. With an animal call her body was shaken, her Venus 
passage becoming as a fist grasping me. At the same 
moment, my essence filled her, flowing deeply into her 
child-womb and filling those cavities of love.

She lay atop me, panting as a thoroughbred after a race, 
then gently kissing me again. As we lay, our perspiration a 
sheen in the moonlight, the breeze became cool against us 
and I carried her to my bed where, under the covers, we 
wrapped our bodies around each other and fell to sleep.

I awoke to the sound of my chamber door being opened as 
Wayne entered. "Beg your pardon, Lord, it be past eight 
o'clock and ye..." he stopped mid sentence when he saw 
the red hair mixed with mine own chestnut, the small 
freckled face, still relaxed with sleep in the crook of my 
neck.

"Excuse me, sir. I did not know...., by your leave sir." He 
turned toward the door.

"Wayne," I called. He stopped, not turning around. "I know 
I can depend on your disgression."

He turned, "Of course, sir," he said, looking into Rachel's 
eyes, who had now stirred with a shock. "But, I cannot be 
certain of the other house staff."

"Of course, Wayne. I hope you can come up with some sort 
of excuse to explain her absence from the kitchen this 
morning."

"I will think of something," he replied with a small smile. 
"With your permission, I will return in five minutes to 
escort her to her quarters."

"Thank you, Wayne."

Then he addressed my young lover, "Rachel," he searched 
the room with his eyes for her clothes, only finding the 
white shift on the floor, "I suggest you wrap yourself in a 
blanket, I will tell the others I found you sleeping in the 
attic and that I had observed you sleepwalking the past 
evening."

"Thank you, sir," she said.

With that, Wayne departed and, after some giggles and 
more kisses, Rachel left my bed to dress and await my 
butler.

During the day, the weather changed. With a great booming 
and flashes of lightning, the wind backed to the north and a 
great rain poured down to fill the land with water. Soon, the 
fields were running with water between the rows of corn 
and potatoes, the wheat, still green, was beaten down, cows 
stood uncomfortably in the wet. During the day, the 
temperature dropped and, by evening, fires had been lit in 
the fireplaces and the maids had pulled blankets off the 
shelves in wardrobes. Most of us were obliged to change 
from cotton to wool shirts and pants. By late in the evening, 
the cool dampness had crept through the house, making all 
seem clammy. I climbed into my bed that night, damning 
the damp bedclothes and hoping that my small lover would 
join me to help warm the covers, despite the condition that 
I had not particularly invited her.

I was awakened when I felt her light form slipping next to 
me, her arms reaching across my back and around my neck, 
her feet cold against my legs. I rolled over to face her and, 
without a word, our mouths met and our bodies melted 
together. Soon we had worked our nightclothing off of us 
and our combined heat made for a warm environ. It was 
very dark, the lamp being extinguished, so our only 
communication was by feel, small laughs and giggles, 
muffled sighs and groans. At one point, she bent down and 
took me in her mouth but I pulled her away before I was 
spent. For a time we lay as spoons, my member hard 
against her behind and lower back as I caressed her small 
nipples and probed her cleft. Then I pushed her onto her 
stomach and climbed behind her. Lying on top of her, I first 
pushed my staff between her and the bed, her having spread 
her legs, now her knees beside mine. I pulled back and my 
lover reached under herself and guided me to the gates.

Oh, the marvelous feeling as I slid into her, she pushing her 
behind up against me to meet my gentle thrusts. With one 
hand, I caressed her sex, feeling myself sliding in and out 
of her as I paid special attention to the exquisitely sensitive 
part of the female anatomy, my other arm was between her 
chest and the bed, lifting some of my weight from her tiny 
frame. She lay, her gasps meeting my thrusts, pushing back 
harder against me as both our passions grew. With a loud 
groan from her and a sharp gasp escaping from me, I filled 
her, feeling her perspiration spreading as her body shook.

As we relaxed in the aftermath, me laying beside her, she 
still on her stomach, she said, "Oh, sir, ye are incredible."

"I find you the most astonishing creature," I responded. 

We kept a warm night under the blankets as the 
unaccountably cool July rain fell, waking in the dim 
morning, Rachel running off to meet her responsibilities. 
Rachel joined me in my bed every night for the next 
fortnight, until my father arrived from his travels in 
Scotland.

The situation came to a crux only two days after the old 
man's arrival. While Rachel and I redoubled our efforts to 
be discreet, and my rooms are on a different floor from my 
father's suite, word of our liaison reached his ears quickly, 
as I knew it must eventually do. I was still surprised at how 
quickly I was confronted.

I was called into the library where the old man usually 
spends his mid-mornings attending to the correspondence. 
As I entered, I expected to be questioned on some matter 
dealing with the administration of the farm, a subject which 
he scrutinizes closely but rarely finds more than trivial fault 
with. Instead, he standing at the mantel, myself just having 
closed the door, I knew from his countenance that the 
interview would be awkward.

"John," he paused for effect, "I have heard rumors that you 
are involved in some dalliance with a member of the 
household staff."

With rising anxiety I responded, "Yes sir." There was no 
point in denying it.

"You know that that will not due. It is beneath your station 
and will degrade the discipline of the staff if you do that."

I remained silent.

"Further, should there be any issue from this, it could 
threaten the orderly inheritance." Again he paused for 
effect and thought. "I have no qualms with your capering 
about London with your friends, that is a young man's 
prerogative, however, the domestics are out of bounds!"

I could see that he was working himself up, a thing that he, 
unfortunately, has a talent for. This has occasionally caused 
him some embarrassment in the House of Lords but can be 
a useful trait in other circumstance. I still remained silent. 
Now, however, I came to the realization that he did not 
know the unique nature of the relationship.

"You are to break off this relationship immediately, John. 
And to insure this, I intend to interview your paramour and 
warn her that, should this continue, she will have to find 
other accommodation."

This concerned my greatly. I had assumed, at first, that I 
could just leave for a summer vacation until I could, 
without my father's knowledge,  call for Rachel to join my 
small staff in London, but now that father was going to 
become acquainted with the details....

"Oh sir," I said, "That will not be necessary..." I started.

"Nonsense! If you can't be trusted to avoid such 
entrapments the responsibility falls to me!" he almost 
yelled as he rang for Wayne. In a way, it was almost 
amusing to watch him.

"Wayne," he said as my old friend appeared at the door (he 
must have been listening in the hall), "I wish to see a 
member of the staff, I believe her name is Rachel."

"Very well, sir," Wayne said as he backed out of the room. 
He gave me a most peculiar look, a mixture of pity and 
amusement.

We stood in silence until I heard the sound of small feet 
running down the hall from the direction of the kitchen. 
There came a light tapping at the door.

"Come in!" my father positively roared, spinning from the 
mantel to face the door.

Rachel slowly opened the door and stepped through. She 
went white when she saw me, then remembered herself and 
curtsied, "You called for me, my lord?"

My father was positively apoplectic, his mouth was 
working but just some strangling noised came. He looked 
from her to me (I met his eye) then back to Rachel.

I saw control overcome his momentary rage and his face 
calmed. Then, in a quiet, almost friendly voice, a voice 
appropriate for addressing a child he said, "My dear, your 
name is Rachel?"

"Yes sir."

"And, my dear, is there anyone else on the staff who goes 
by the same name?"

"Not that I know, sir."

My father straightened and, after another long pause during 
which the click-click-clicking of the clock could be heard, 
he said, "That is very well, my dear. You may return to 
your duties."

As she closed the door, Rachel had a heartbreaking look on 
her face, a tear was running down her cheek. The door 
latched and we heard her footsteps quickly departing down 
the hall.

Without looking up, my father started, "In all my years, I 
have never...." We stood in silence for another minute. 
"You will never see that child again, do you understand?"

I awaited my fate, "Yes sir."

More silence, then he moved to his desk, sat down and 
started furiously writing. "I am sending you to take charge 
of my estates in Bombay, you will leave this afternoon." 
More writing. "If you cannot behave in a civilized manner, 
I will insure you are not among the civilized people."

A cold chill clamped around me, "Father!..."
He looked at me, "Be glad I don't send you to the savage 
frontier of America, my boy."

He continued writing. "I will draw up the appropriate 
papers, you must go pack." With this I was dismissed. As I 
opened the door, he said, "And John, you will not see her 
again."

"Yes sir." I walked out and up the stairs. That was the last I 
have seen of my father, and I suspect it was the last I will 
ever see of him.

And so, my dearest friend, that is the tail of my disgrace, if 
you should describe it as such. For me, however, it is not a 
disgrace to have fallen in love, regardless of the station and, 
in this unique case, the age of the interest. It was a sad trip 
from Derby down to the London docks and I waited only 
two days, a time in which I was busy acquiring items I 
would need for the trip and upon my arrival and making 
certain arrangements with my bankers to insure that my 
personal inheritance from my Grandmother would be at my 
disposal with no complications. I acquired the appropriate 
letters of credit for banks in India and the required letters of 
introduction to personages there who I will have to count 
upon.

Then, just before my sailing, I received a note from Wayne, 
my old friend and confidant on the household staff, 
informing me that, as my father had expected, the 
hullabaloo had caused certain strains among the staff, a 
circumstance which Rachel, at her tender age, was not 
equipped to handle and that he, upon his own initiative, had 
sent her to the dairy to work. He related that she was 
heartbroken and glum but he expected that, with the 
increased freedom which that situation would provide her, 
she would recover and, in a few years time, settle into the 
comfortable life of a tenant farmer's wife. Frankly, my 
friend, the idea made my blood run cold. Rachel's vivacity 
and zest will never allow her to be happy in such a 
mundane life. It is her excitement and forthrightness which 
has captivated me. She will never willing submit to a life 
which requires her to remain in a dull grinding routine. It is 
just this character in her which has captivated me, not 
withstanding her other considerable charms which far 
surpass, for me, every other member of the female sex.

Now, my dearest friend, now that I have acquainted you 
with my circumstance, I must ask, I positively beg, that you 
enter into a conspiracy with me. With this letter I am 
enclosing two more. I ask you to seek out my love and set 
her on a course which will follow mine so she, if she 
chooses, may join me.

The first is a letter of introduction which will allow you to 
draw on such funds which are required to provide Rachel 
with transport and outfit for Bombay. Request an interview 
with Mr. B________ and C________ & Son and you will 
find him most obliging. The second letter is to my most 
darling Rachel, begging her to join me. You will have to 
read this to her, as she doesn't know letters. Finally, should 
you need direction in this endeavor, you may rely on my 
friend and servant Wayne at my father's house, however, it 
would be best if you availed yourself of his services as a 
last resort.

My friend, I have laid upon you a heavy burden. The 
charms and fortunes of love do make a twisting path 
through our world and I have asked you to kindly work to 
bring mine and my lovers to a junction. I await you word.

--John





    *          *         *

London, December 4, 1773

John,

I am sending this short correspondence via fast packet to 
Alexandria, then across the Sinai to the Arabian Sea, in the 
hope that it will meet you upon your arrival in Bombay.

I am overjoyed to acquaint you with the success of our 
conspiracy as I just waved off your lovely Rachel as her 
ship made off down the Thames with this morning's tide. I 
must say, she is a most precocious and captivating child 
and I can full understand your passion for her.

I met her in a field where she was attending to a mother 
cow and her half grown calf, she looking curiously at me as 
I alighted from my coach and approached her. I introduce 
myself and when I told her that I brought news from you, 
she flushed white, immediately struggling to suppress a 
torrent of tears. I told her I had your letter and asked if she 
would want me to read it, to which she nervously assented. 

I had not finished the first paragraph before she fell to her 
knees, weeping and upon finishing she, without looking at 
me, ran toward my coach like deer escaping the wolf. 
Before entering, leaving me to gape after her, she called 
back, "Please Sir, make haste!"

"But child," I said as I approached her (she was already 
inside, looking out the doorway), "what of your 
possessions?"

"My things be damned!" she yelled. I was in fear she would 
strike me. "May I never see this place again. It is not suited 
for Hell!" I could see by her determined expression and 
stance that there would be no dissuading her, so I simply 
signaled the driver and we were off.

She is traveling on the Crimson Knight, a full ship of three 
masts, for Calcut, via the Cape of Good Hope, Mombassa, 
and Bombay. She is under the protection of a Miss 
G______ who is traveling Calcut to take the position of 
tutor on some estate there. I have asked that she begin 
Rachel's education on the trip.

My friend, I hope that this news will be well met and I wish 
you the best of luck in your endeavors in that far place. I 
also wish you the greatest happiness with your darling 
Rachel. I can truly see that, in spite of her youth, she is an 
excellent match for you and, in two or three years time 
when you can legally marry, please send me word of the 
date as I have always wanted to see India.

--Andrew	

