Part 10 (2/2)
”Admit Martha, you really want us to woo you.”
”Yes, but also showing proper respect, like master Andrew does.”
”Oh, I think the reason he isn't after you is that he has a la.s.s somewhere else,” Michael burst out, a twinkle in his eyes. ”Isn't that so, master Andrew? That's why you order such big lunches and go out riding so early in the morning two or three times each week.”
Andrew nodded, finding that agreeing was most likely to get the talk away from him. In fact, during most of the dinner, he had not said a word, nor had he understood all of the allusions made. Only later on, lying in bed, and thinking about the remarks, did several of them fall into place.
On their next two meetings, both Andrew and Helen made an effort to control their pa.s.sion. They kissed and cuddled, sheltered behind the goat hut, rather than playing, running, and lying in the heath. The constant danger of being discovered by Helen's mother or father bound them even more closely and added fuel to their pa.s.sion. So their tacit restraint faltered the time after. Before they knew it, they lay intertwined in the soft gra.s.s, teasingly shedding each other's clothing, discovering each other's bodies.
”Helen, I want to make love to you.”
”Andrew, I want it too, but we can't. I don't want to be with child. Please, don't press me.”
”There's a way. I can withdraw before I come.”
Her own urges unleashed, she needed little convincing. ”But will you? Promise!”
”Yes, Helen, I promise,” he replied huskily, kissing her again, renewing his fumbling love play. When he sucked her nipples too strongly, she begged him to be more gentle. When he rubbed her crotch too hard, she took his hand, touching herself lightly. In a flash of understanding, more of the cooks' banter fell into place. He explored her inner thighs gently, encouraged by her quickened breathing, his own excitement rising. When he pressed his swollen member into her thighs, she parted her legs, raising them, and guided him to her opening. He pushed timidly, but the blockage held.
”You've to help me, Helen.”
She strained against him and suddenly it gave. A gasp of surprise and pain escaped her. Then she smiled and raised her lips to his. When he began to move slowly in and out, she responded, meeting his thrusts ever more vigorously, her arousal heightening with each. And then suddenly, he withdrew with a groan and almost collapsed next to her. In a desperate frenzy, she reached for her opening, clasping it with both hands, pressing her thighs together, as a wave of unbearable pleasure remained suspended, on the verge of breaking, but not quite, and then suddenly burst, cras.h.i.+ng through her body, making her cry out softly. For a few seconds she lay still, letting her excitement slowly ebb away. Then she turned to face him. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Their eyes shone brightly, exuding their love shared.
After a while, propping his head up, he leaned against her, his right hand resting lightly on her breast. She folded her arms around his neck and kissed him.
”I love you, I love you, I love you,” he murmured into her ear and she responded, a glow in her eyes: ”I love you too.”
The tip of his index traced the curves of her body, the shape of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, her stomach, around her belly b.u.t.ton, over her flat belly to the copper fuzz on her mound, down the inside of her thighs, up over her protruding hip bones, finding her left breast, making narrowing circles around the pink areola, his soft palm cupping the nipple when it hardened, gathering the softness.
”That feels good. Don't stop,” she whispered.
He smiled happily, kissed her, and let his finger take up its journey again.
”I want us to get married, Helen!”
”Yes, I want that to, Andrew.”
”I'll send a letter to your father, asking him to let me talk to him.”
”No, Andrew. Let me talk to them first. Prepare them.”
”Will you do it soon?”
”Yes, I promise.”
They bathed in each other's eyes, in the love s.h.i.+ning in them, remaining locked together for a long time, a smile occasionally deepening their fire.
8.
The following day-it was late August by then, Mary told Helen to bring the goats back, that they would move down into their cottages in the glen. Helen blanched and uttered a distressed ”Not yet, mother. Can't we stay another few days?”
”Why? What's there to keep us up here? It's more comfortable down there and warmer at night. There's enough pasture for our goats.”
Helen was at a loss of what to answer. If they left the next day, she would miss Andrew and couldn't tell him of their return to the clachan. But she couldn't admit that to her mother, nor could she muster the courage to tell her that Andrew had proposed, despite her promise to him. She sensed that her mother's mood was rather dark. So she simply repeated her plea: ”Just two more days, mother, please!”
”What's the matter? What difference will two days make?” Her mother's eyes narrowed, and she said accusingly: ”You are meeting somebody at the lochan, aren't you? ... I've suspected this for a long time. Who is it?” She stared at her sternly and then raised her voice sharply. ”I ask you to tell me who it is, la.s.s.”
Helen did not answer, just matched her stare stubbornly.
”Oh, I can guess. It's the factor's apprentice, isn't it?”
Helen felt the blood rush into her face, but replied, defiantly: ”Who else could it be? You knew that the food I brought home didn't grow under planks in a goat house.”
Her mother shook her shoulders violently, and almost hissed in an effort to keep the voice down: ”La.s.s, I told you two years ago not to get involved with that lad. It can only lead to trouble. You hear me?”
As her mother's agitation increased, Helen's decreased, and she became suddenly icily calm. ”What kind of trouble?”
”He is gentry! He's just out to take advantage of you-has anything untoward happened already? Is that why he brought you food? Tell me, child, I must know.”
Helen chose to ignore her mother's questions and answered: ”He's different. He wants to marry me.”
”They all say that until they get you pregnant, and then they drop you like a hot coal.”
”He loves me. I know. I love him.”
”He's a Campbell. You cannot marry him. Father would never agree, not after what he did to us.”
”What did he do to us, except help? Was it not he who helped Betty and me getting away that day? If all he wanted was to have me, he could have done it right then and there. Was it not he who revenged you? Father, with all his big words hasn't raised a finger yet. And he helped us survive, when we had no food. He said he admired you. He said that he would have liked to have a mother like you.”
For two or three seconds, Mary seemed lost for words, then she shouted: ”What do you know of men? You foolish girl! I forbid you to see him again, ever! You hear me?”
”I love him. We want to get married.”
”You stay away from him, or I'll send you to my cousins in Balquhidder. They'll keep you safe.”
”You do that and I'll run away with him. We'll go to America. He has enough money.”
Mary's agitation bordered on the hysterical. She again grabbed Helen and shook her wildly, shouting, her voice almost snapping over: ”You can't! You can't!”
”Why not?”
”Because ... because he is your brother!” groaned Mary and broke into hysterical sobbing.
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