25. Side-saddle and bareback...

I was 'banned' from the East Wing from the Tuesday before the ball.

This wasn't a major inconvenience, as all of my rooms are in the West Wing. The East Wing is where the ballroom is, and several receiving rooms, as well as having its own quite grand entrance. I did note several of the grooms, who rarely come into the hall itself, carrying baskets and bags into the house. Inevitably each one would enter, look up the Grand Staircase at all of the weapons and armour, the old standards and the portraits, and their heads would sweep from the left, up and around and down to the right. Each and every one of them, like clockwork.

Several times two of them would man-handle tall shapes, wrapped in muslin to disguise them into the ballroom - though having seen men carrying saplings into the stables the other day, I assumed that that was what they were.

I retreated to my study and spent my time going through Dodgson's papers. The three properties he had transferred to his name were all in the Aylesbury area. This is not unusual, as has been noted already, the 'estate' owns properties right across Buckinghamshire, Hertfordshire, Oxfordshire and, of course, in London itself.

The day before I had summoned Thomas Langton, our lawyer from Aylesbury. I had not called him about this particular matter before this, though he had been to Rogeringham Hall several times since we removed here. I had wanted to settle this with Dodgson first, give him a chance to explain himself. Now it had gone beyond that.

On his arrival - after the usual greetings, enquiries after his wife and new young child, and the like, I went over the events at the Dodgson house, and explained what he had done. It was agreed that Mr Langton would take the deeds away and amend the ownership details and get them notarised.

Langton was curious about the circumstances behind the affair and he agreed to ride out to view the properties and serve notice to the tenants of the change of ownership. He was attending the ball and would make his report then.

I did see Hermione's young man around the house at one point, though he appeared to be avoiding me, as I did not see him at the mid-day meal. But not long after that, Hermione herself visited me and asked if I would ride with her that afternoon. Her exact words were 'Would I take her for a ride?'

I wondered if it was a double entendre, whether she was actually asking for one thing but meaning something else altogether. The problem is that, as I have said. Hermione is the complete picture of innocence, so it was more than possible that what she said she wanted, was exactly what she meant. That, and she wore a riding habit as well.

I rang for a footman and despatched him to the stables.

The afternoon was cold, but there was a bright sun, the frost from the morning was fading but if the night was clear of clouds, it would be back by morning. Hermione rode a pale-coloured cob, with a bustling sort of walk, while I rode the hunter that I had been using for the last few weeks. He was a big old boy, steady and even in his pace, past his best days as a hunter, but an excellent riding horse.

We rode down the Yew Walk, with the low sun dappling the path and pooling between the old yew trees. From there we aimed to ride across the park, and round via the grand entrance gateway, round through the Home Coverts and back.

"Does it not feel strange?" Hermione asked.

"Does what feel strange?"

"All of this," she waved her arm at the park and the bulk of the house sitting away to our left. "Being the head of all of this?"

"I suppose if I had just come to it as a boy, then yes, I suppose it would." I reflected. "But the army and being away - out of it all, feels like it was all building up to it."

"I have spoken with Emily Dodgson," Hermione went on. "The way you have looked after her is good. I am sure the others have said that you will make a good duke, so I will add my voice too."

I thanked her, then asked her why we were out riding this afternoon?

Hermione looked off into the distance, across the broad swathe of the great park. "James has been here today."

I nodded, "I saw him."

Hermione smiled, "He's quite scared of you, you know?"

I nodded again. "And?"

"He is talking seriously about us and our future, I think he intends to ask you for my hand at the ball."

"And how does that make you feel?" I asked, as we both came to a stop. Hermione looked ahead at our chosen route; her look was thoughtful as if making a very big decision.

"I need to ride very fast and perhaps take some small jumps," she said as she pointed the cob's head at the logs that had been placed for just that sort of exercise along the borders of the park.

"And then ..." She said, with her usual air of innocence, "I need you to fuck me, William." And she kicked the cob up to a canter, and took off along the track.

I thought perhaps she wanted me to catch her, but to be truthful Hermione's cob would never outrun the hunter. Instead, I settled for riding behind her and watching as she enthusiastically put her horse at the jumps.

There are two small lakes in the Great Park at Rogeringham. By the side of the larger one, screened from the house by a patch of woodland is a pavilion. It was built when the park was re-designed by Capability Brown, and is a mixture of classical architecture - the front of it is modelled as a Greek portico in style, while the rear part is a brick-built summer house, and was our play house during the summer. We called it the Temple.

Hermione dismounted there and led me inside.

It was cold, it was years since there had been a fire in the hearth there, but there were still some couches there that we had used when we had been there in the past.

Hermione threw herself on one of these and lifted her riding habit. I was stunned to see that she wore nothing at all underneath. The fur on her mons was shaped, trimmed, a discrete triangle that pointed down between her thighs.

"I know what has been going on with Charlotte and mama ..." she said.

I didn't mention Caroline to her.

"... It is time that you added my name to your list." And she began to frig herself as she lay in front of me.

"Would you not rather wait?" I asked, "These old couches are rather musty."

"No!" She said simply. Hermione looked at me. "Please William, do it now. If James does ask for my hand at the ball, I want to be ready." She reached out her hand, touching my cock though my breeches. "Pleeeease William?"

I freed myself from my breeches and moved between her legs. She reached up and pulled me down on top of her. "Come brother, what waits here is yours, it always has been. Take it."

Well! That came as a little bit of a surprise. Not just the declaration, but also the passion in her voice, neither of which I had any previous suspicion of. Hermione, our little sister, our innocent, angelic sibling, now I realised that when Charlotte had told me that there was steel in her, there was, in fact, a great deal more besides.

It was a vigorous fuck.

Once her virginity had been sacrificed in our temple, with nary a flinch on my sister's part, Hermione wrapped me in her arms, and brought her legs up around me and hugged me tightly to her.

"Oh William! Oh God. Harder, pleeease, harder! Yes! Yes! YES!!" My sister's face was contorted in passion, I believe that if I were not still wearing my coat, I would have had new scars on my body from her finger nails. It was such a lewd experience - I have had few like it, that it was not long before I started to spend inside her cunny.

I felt Hermione's arms shift on my torso, gripping me tighter, as if she was trying to cram me inside her, as I filled her with my jism. Three, four, even five spurts of spend. Each time I spent, I thrust deep inside her.

Done, I withdrew slowly, Hermione seemed reluctant to let me go. When I bent to kiss her, I saw that she was crying.

"Shush! Don't cry, my sweet." I soothed her, "Was it so bad?" I joked.

"No!" She sniffled. Then she burst out, "I love you William, I have always loved you. If I could, I would marry you and be your devoted wife. This, this - I have waited for this."

I moved to sit beside her and drew her into my arms and up onto my lap.

"I remember one time," I said, "I was sent to bed without supper for some reason. You brought me food, walking up to my room as if you owned it, and no one suspected a damned thing. If I could take you as my wife, Hermione, I would. Remember this though, you will always have my undying love.

"You did not finish?" I asked.

Hermione tried to wave that away, "That is not important ..."

"It is important, always remember that," I chided her, "That is the whole point of this." I told her, and took my hand and slid it up against her clitty. Among the now matted hair, amidst the gooey mess I had deposited there, I found the button of her clitoris.

"Ohhh!" Hermione groaned as I frigged her. "Oh lord! Oh God William ... No, no, no! Aaaaah!" It did not take long before the cum rattled through her. She threw herself back against me, turning her head to kiss me, she hungrily chewed at my lips.

Abruptly she stopped kissing me and sat upon my lap, her face buried in the crook of my neck. "I really do love you brother," she said softly into my chest.

"And I you, my sweet Hermione."

She grinned at that, and as she did, I could see past her and through the windows, that the sun was racing towards the horizon.

"We should return to the Hall," I said.

Re-dressed and re-mounted, neither of us appeared to be in a hurry and we walked the horses across the Great Park, directly towards the stables.

"Forgive me for asking," I wondered aloud, "But why such urgency?"

Hermione looked at me with her large grey eyes, "After talking with James this morning, and his excitement, I feel like the future is rushing towards me. He is impetuous, and will charge into the arrangements. What we have done was so important to me - I have known that you would be my first for a long time, I was worried that there would not be time to do it."

I chuckled.

"James is in awe of you, did you know, William?" she went on. "You scare him, but he has confided to me that he admires you. You are everything he aspires to be, he often talks about you, what you think and what you do. I think that you are the role-model he has been looking for."

I nodded, "So, how will you fit into his world?"

Hermione reined the cob to a standstill. "I am a Rogeringham," she said, as if that was all she needed to say. That simple statement of fact, the invocation of our family name, and the power that the dukedom confers upon it, reminded me of an ancient queen - an Elizabeth or further back, a Boadicea, both women fierce, proud of who they were and strong. "James Barthomley could be an important man. Eventually." she said, "He has it in him. With me behind him, he will be. I will bring our name, and all of what it means to be a member of such an important family and use that strength to bring out his potential. Put simply, William, I shall bring class to an otherwise vulgar brawl!"

I laughed. Hermione was quoting an unknown officer who was asked what the role of cavalry was in warfare. She was not slandering James Barthomley as vulgar, or common, rather she was implying that being a part of his life and his progress in the world, she would elevate it above the ordinary. Not only was it an apt use of the quote but it confirmed what I had come to realise. It wasn't steel in my little sister. It was diamond. Hard and beautiful.

It was another confirmation, should I have needed it, of the changes which had taken place in my sisters while I had been away. Perhaps though, not in Hermione's case, I suspect that what I had seen this afternoon had always been there - she had just hidden it all along behind her air of innocence.

I took supper with my sisters that night, and asked Charlotte to play for me in the drawing room. Charlotte played and we sang together, but as we did, as I looked around with my new vision of them, I no longer saw my sisters as the girls I remembered but as women that I loved most dearly.

I couldn't help but note that out of the women assembled - my mother, Charlotte, Caroline, Hermione, the twins and Emily Dodgson - I had slept with or been carnal with four out of the seven of them. Emily Dodgson was obviously off the dance card, so that just left the twins. Given the penchant that the twins had for games and intrigue, I couldn't help but wonder how that would play out.

My twin sisters were always mischievous as children, if there was a practical joke being played, generally they were the culprits. They rarely suffered the consequences of their jests because if a punishment did come down, it was normally me that bore it. I never resented this, most times I enjoyed the fun, sometimes I even encouraged them, and sometimes I was the victim. They were creative and imaginative and between them they have a wonderful sense of timing.

We talked for a few minutes while Charlotte looked for some music. Whenever I asked them about their plans for the decorations, all I received were innocent looks, 'I'm sorry brother, what were you saying?' or 'did you say something William?'.

Very well, I thought, I give in, all shall be revealed on Friday evening.

I chatted with Mrs Dodgson, she had decided to continue to style herself that way because of her daughters, she seemed more contented, less nervous. I had the sense that there was still anger below the surface, though she was most careful to point out that what had happened was all Alfred's own fault.

Despite her existence with Alfred and raising three daughters, Emily Dodgson told me that she still read a lot. In particular she said that she had read much about the education of women. She had also read many women authors like Mary Wollstonecraft and Catharine Macaulay who talked about women's roles in society. She herself aspired to send her daughters to a school so that they would be more than drudges to their husbands. Having conversed with the girls, whom I found to be thoughtful, articulate and despite the recent loss of the man that they called father, cheerful and easily given to laughter. I thought that this was a good idea.

At this point she blushed and stammered, "I do apologise Your Grace ..."

I asked her why.

"Such ideas are not always well received - I did not wish to offend."

I waved it away. "Any man in this family who held the view that women were in any way 'weak and feeble' or not born to make their own way in life, would deserve everything he got." I laughed.

Her eyes got very wide, and she asked quietly, "Truly, Your Grace?"

"Truly, Mrs Dodgson."

And at that point Charlotte demanded that I sing Mr Handel's song again, and the conversation ended.

I slept alone that night. Helena had a headache, Charlotte and Caroline demurred, partly in respect of what my mother had said the other night. So, I retired and went to sleep early.

Unusually, when I did dream that night, it was not of Portugal, rather it was of Hermione, mounted and partly armoured - the panoply she wore left certain parts of her body exposed, and they jiggled and bobbed as she rode. She charged across the Great Park on a white war-horse, screaming and waving her sword about.

She was fearsome, I noted with some humour. Her serious face contorted with rage, as she focussed on some unseen enemy, but the bouncing of her bubbies up and down spoiled the ferocious image.

I got up and sat by the fire. I suppose that this particular dream stemmed from our conversation that afternoon, I saw her ready to conquer the world, on behalf of James Barthomley, and to be truthful, I was jealous of him, having her at his side.

I did not take my usual tot of rum but settled for a pipe of some of the sobranie tobacco that I had been given by Sir Arthur instead. I was in a thoughtful mood and reviewed recent events and the upcoming ball. I had to smile, at my introspection. One aspect of army life was that, despite the distractions of the social life, a good officer is a busy officer. There is always something that needs doing, even something as lowly as inspecting the night's sentinels.

My new life was far less frenetic, and definitely less dangerous, and I realised I was missing the constant activity of the army. True, there were the preparations we were making ready for the next Season, but I could see that eventually there might come a time when my sisters were no longer living with us. Once the steward situation was resolved, and there was just my mother and myself, I needed to find something to be involved with. I did not see myself as a farmer, but I supposed that I could find things of interest about the estate, and perhaps that would be something I could take an interest in. The main thing I resolved, was to find things to busy myself with.

My pipe done, I tapped out the dottle on the hearth and went back to bed.

The next two days passed quietly. On the first morning, the weather was mild and I took the opportunity to go to the stables and walk Naiad about the paddock on the rein. Not only was she coming along nicely but she recognised me on my arrival and cocked her head up in anticipation.

After a half-hour with her, I had the hunter - Cumberland, by name - saddled and went for a hack round the village and some of our farms. When I was with the army and we were actively on campaign I would spend most of the day out of doors, under the sky. I was missing that a little, and needed to get out.

By happenstance, I encountered Dr Locksley walking through the village.

I asked if he was coming to the ball, to which he replied that he wouldn't miss it for the world and that Mrs Locksley had spent a fortune on a new dress. We stopped at the vicarage and he brought a cup of a very good ale out for me. I drank it, sat upon Cumberland at his gate, the old horse was very patient while I drank and we chatted.

"Did you give any thoughts to the position of teacher, Your Grace?" The vicar asked at last, I told him that I had an idea but did not want to commit anyone just yet.

He nodded and I gave him the empty cup back, and we progressed on.

The village that day was busy, and Cumberland and I slowly worked our way up the street exchanging greetings as I went. Many people recognised me and called out 'good morning Your Grace' and while I didn't know many people particularly well, some better than others, I decided that I would know them better when I was done. These people did not owe allegiance to me, that sort of thing was many years in the past, but most of them were tenants or they dealt with the hall in some form of business. This meant that we were co-dependant, and their community was my community. I knew that most of my year would be spent in London, but I had been born in the village of Rogeringham, and spent my early years here, if I had a home anywhere, this would be the place.

The Grand Ball was for the 'great and the good' of the county and society in general, and of course, it was also an occasion to allow my sisters to 'trail their coats' before a selection of suitors. I decided that a smaller, more local gathering would be a good idea, for the villagers and other tenants, closer to Christmas itself, or perhaps between then and New Year.

With the village behind us I let old Cumberland extend his stride a little and we cantered along the heath and down to the ford. We walked through the ford, rather than the bridge, and onto the carriage drive and just as the rain began again, I walked him into the stable yard.

Changed and dried off, I sought out Mr Dives and summoned him, Barclay and Mrs Ellis and her deputy to the Drawing Room.

Barclay advised that the idea of a Christmas goose had been instigated and was progressing well, most people would receive the gift in good time. When I announced that I would like to host a Christmas Ball for the local people, their reaction came as a bit of a surprise.

I had expected a less than enthusiastic response, with the imminent Grand Ball and with Christmas looming beyond that, it would be understandable with the amount of work involved, but all of the staff seemed to be quite happy with the idea. When I asked Mr Dives why this was so, he suggested that after years of doing very little in the way of these things, the hall staff felt that this was what we should be doing. It allowed us to show what we could do, and to cement our position locally, a position that had waned over the years.

After they had all gone back to their business, I sat and wrote to a bookseller in London and asked if they would procure me some titles based on the conversation I had had with Emily Dodgson.