32. After the meeting in the study

There were knowing looks from Charlotte and Caroline, a slightly peeved look from my mother and apparent ignorance from the twins, when Hermione and I joined them for supper.

The first two I expected, my mother I was slightly relieved about, but the twins still bothered me.

Of all of my sisters, the twins were the two who would be most likely to initiate trouble, or instigate mischief. They were ever alert to possibilities, rarely missing anything, any event, occurrence or snippet of information.

It wasn't that I wanted my time with Caroline, Charlotte and Hermione known abroad, in fact I wanted the opposite, but if anyone should have known about it, or had an opinion on it, it would be Margaret and Louise. And yet they gave no intimation of any kind. I expected it to be teased and giggled about within the family, but it seemed - seemed, note - that they were unaware of what was transpiring behind their backs, or ignoring it.

I found both of those positions quite perturbing.

Still, I had to face Helena that night, when she eventually came to my bed.

"Hermione? As well?"

I held nothing back when I explained what had happened firstly in the summer house and then in my study. I told her all of my conversations with Hermione and my views on her young man, everything. Helena's lips were already taut as I spoke, by the time that I finished they were a tight line.

"Hermione is my baby girl!"

"I beg your pardon, light of my life," I said, "Hermione is not a baby girl. She may look like an innocent, even act like one. But she is a strong, wilful woman and she knows her own mind."

"My baby girl?"

"Yes mother, your baby girl." I went to the door and asked Barclay if he would ask Hermione to join us.

The only sign that my sister gave on seeing her mother in my room, in her dressing gown, was a slightly ironic tilt of the head as she curtseyed.

"William." She greeted us. "Mama."

"Please, sister, explain to our mother what we discussed about your marriage to James?"

I discovered something else about Hermione that night, her exposition of what we had discussed, and the plan we had agreed was word perfect, dispassionate, almost cold in her delivery. But she left nothing out.

Helena looked at me, with a bemused expression. "Sometimes you think you know people."

I smiled. "I understand completely."

"You should know mother," Hermione, suddenly said, "That William helped me with another issue ..."

"Your maidenhead?" Helena asked. "I did know."

"I mean nothing against you, mother." She said, and repeated to Helena, what she had told me about her feelings for me.

"And still, you wish to marry James?" Helena said with a wry smile.

"It appears I have no option otherwise." Hermione answered her with an equally wry grin. "Although, I would still like to borrow William occasionally if I may, mama?"

"I shall consider it." Helena told her, before telling her that she should go back to her room.

Hermione left, though she appeared unhappy to be doing so.

"Do you still consider her to be your baby girl, mother?" I asked once she had gone.

"Always." She said emphatically. "Though to be truthful, I understand now what you mean. She is headstrong, is she not?"

"I believe that she is a force of nature," I said and told her about my dream of Hermione riding across the park waving a sword. Helena laughed.

"You may be right," she said as we kissed. "I'm sorry," she apologised after our lips parted.

"Why?" I asked.

"For doubting you." She said, "I wondered what it was you are trying to achieve. I see now. I understand better what it is you are doing now and will support it wholeheartedly. Though I do wonder at how my daughters became the women they are, it seems as if it happened without me knowing."

"Yes," I said, "It took me by surprise also. But we have all changed since it was just us here, even you, Helena. But I do know one thing."

Helena looked at me.

"We are all still Rogeringhams. And whatever changes are coming we will meet them and we turn them to our best advantage."

"Do you think that Hermione wanted to stay here with us?" She asked.

"I do. She wants to fuck in a proper bed, instead of a hurried partly-dressed tumble on a couch"

"Oh, my poor baby!" Helena laughed. "It will have to be arranged," she said. "But not tonight!"

We both disrobed quickly, her banyan dressing gown and night dress falling quickly to the floor leaving only her knee-length, white silk stockings on, before she helped me off with my waist-coat, my shirt and breeches.

I picked my mother up and carried her to my bed, laying her gently upon it.

Despite my time with Hermione earlier today, my desire for Helena was undiminished.

She surrendered herself to me and I took her fiercely. As we kissed, and fondled each other, tasted and caressed one another, Helena's surrender became a need equal to mine, as she pulled and tugged at me. Soon I was inside her, and if anything, her urgency increased. She pulled me on top of her, wrapping her stocking covered legs around me, folding them over around my hips, and using them to pull me in towards her, each time I thrust into her. Once more I marvelled at the sensual, demanding woman that hid inside my outwardly unsophisticated, and if anything, rather staid, mother.

A woman like Elizabeth Dorrington, is an openly sexual creature. It exudes from her, in her style of dressing, her comportment, her manner. Everything about her says that she is a woman that not only likes sexual congress, but that she is an active partner. She also expresses a great deal of natural authority, in that while she appears to be a willing partner, woe betide any man who mistakes her for an easy one.

Helena on the other hand, is outwardly a model society mother, modest in her dress, modest in her behaviour and speech. My mother exudes 'demure' as her natural state. Make no mistake, she is loving and warm, and not in any way remote or forbidding. But there is a wonderful and wild sexual creature that lives inside her, though it is one which is reserved for only one person - and I am blessed that that person is me.

Helena's finger nails dug into my back as if to punctuate my thoughts.

"Fuck me hard William! Oh! Yes! Yes! Oh God! Fffh!" she started, only to be shaken by the first of a string of small spends that rattled through her, once, twice, thrice and even a smaller fourth, that left her gasping for her breath.

"Oh God, William, if only I had known about this kind of pleasure ..." Her words were cut off as I started to spend inside her, "Aaaaaah! God, fill me! Fuck! Oh God, shoot it up inside me!"

Her words of encouragement drove me on, and I did my very best to fill my mother's cunny with as much of my jism as I could before I sank to the covers next to her.

A shared pipe of sobranie and a drink - Barclay had begun to leave out a decanter of something less fierce than my rum - had become part of our nightly ritual. Unless the night was very cold, we would not dress and Her Grace Lady Helena Rogeringham, widow of the 5th duke, would sit upon my couch by the fire, with her hair loose, and arrayed across her shoulders, her bare bubbies jiggling as we talked and laughed, and her cunny-bush peeping out from between her pale thighs, and she would look the perfect picture. I suggested that one day I would have her painted this way, captured in this glorious state - my Aphrodite of the bed chamber, because to me she was the embodiment of a goddess.

Tonight, Barclay had left a decent madeira, and it was as she drank a glass of this that Helena asked what I had meant about changes in society. "Surely you don't mean riots and executions like the French?"

I took a pull upon the pipe and blew the smoke into the fireplace. "The French," I said, "Are much more fiery than the English. They will riot over a change in the weather, while we English will endure without comment.

"I do not see our aristos being taken to the gallows in carts to be executed. But I see instead a shift in the balance of our society." I told Helena what I had seen of these changes and how the likes of the Barthomleys would bring them about.

"So, are people such as the Barthomleys our enemies?" She asked.

"I suppose that once upon a time we'd have led our ducal forces upon a crusade to drive such upstarts down and retain our power. We'd have killed their menfolk or sold them off as slaves, sowed salt in their fields and taken their women as concubines." I smiled, partly at the thought of a woman like Eugenie Barthomley as a slave, to be called for and used at her owner's whim and how such treatment would be anathema to her. "But society is much more polite these days, and we no longer do that sort of thing."

"My plan is to embrace them. They would use their connections to us to advance themselves, but connections work both ways, mother, we can use them too. More than that, we are leaders, we can lead the changes, influence them, and re-shape ourselves to be a part of the changes as well.

"Take Mrs Dodgson ..."

"You could if you wanted to." My mother said slyly, "She would be more than willing."

"That is bye-the-bye, mother. Emily Dodgson is an admirably strong woman, but I am not sure that if she discovered our relationship, that she would understand our love compared to her own experience. And anyway, I have plans for her."

"How then do you see Emily's future?"

"You've talked to her, she is a fierce champion of the role of women, is she not?"

Helena nodded.

"I happen to agree with her. Women have a big role to play in the future, and an important aspect of that will be education.

"It is my hope that Dr Locksley will accept Emily Dodgson as the new school teacher here at Rogeringham school. I think he will. On top of that, I am going to offer to send the Dodgson girls to school, to pay for their education."

I looked at Helena, she was looking at me with amazement.

"Is it too much?" I asked.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, I think it is a wonderful idea, I am still wondering how this has all come about."

"It seems like a fair way to make amends."

"And besides," I said, "It is not sufficient to order men to charge, a true leader will charge with them. So, it must be, if we are going to survive these changes with all of this," I indicated Rogeringham Hall, "Mayfair, our family, our lifestyle in fact, if we are to retain all of that, we must lead this particular charge."

Helena placed her glass down and went back to the bed, lying on top of the turned back sheets, her stocking feet apart, her coral pink nipples crowning her full boobies as they sat majestically on her chest. She looked at me from under her lowered brows, "Come to bed, my lord."

"Yes, my lady." I said as I walked to the side of the bed, my hard cock leading the way.

Helena placed her hand on my belly, and rolled onto her front, taking hold of my prick, she lovingly kissed it, licking it with her tongue up and down.

It was unexpected, and I felt the passion inside me rise.

Sliding onto the bed, I stroked her hair as she sank her mouth down the shaft. Because she lay at a right angle to my hips, I could easily reach her bottom with my left hand, so I started to frig her cunny with my fingers, sliding them in and out of her juicy, lubricious cunt.

Helena moaned round my prick in her mouth, and she rotated her hips round, thrusting them back at my probing fingers.

"Mmmmmmm." She said as she paused for breath, looking up at me, "Oh Lord, William! Leave your fingers there - it feels wonderful."

For the next few minutes my mother worked upon my prick, laving it with her tongue, plunging the shaft down her throat, jamming it as far back as she could, or for as long as she could hold her breath. My other hand rested on her head, but I did not use it to force anything that she did. Helena was learning for herself what pleased me.

For myself, I took the finger that was buried in her cunny, and screwed it inside her bum-hole - causing Helena to squeak in surprise, and raise her hips to meet my hand. After a moment, however, she relaxed her hips and it was as if she had melted on the bed. It felt like I had unlocked something. As the surprise left her - and I slid a second finger into her bottom - Helena became a wild creature, sucking and licking at my cock, slavering over it, wanking at it with her fist, while poised - open-mouthed - over the end of it.

"Spend, spend, spend!" She breathed, willing me to orgasm, "Spend for me William. Let me taste that delicious white, creamy juice!"

Instead, and quite unexpectedly Helena received two blasts of my jism across her face and open mouth. It was a complete shock for her. She lay there non-plussed as I shot two more streamers of cum onto her beautiful face. It lay upon her eyes, across her nose, upon her lips and even dripped from her chin.

I could not help but smile at her expression for a moment, before I moved down the bed and licked the cum off her. At one point I kissed her, and while I did so slid jism from my tongue into her mouth. She licked it up and swallowed it. When she had been cleaned of jism, we broke our kiss, and looked at each other. Helena was still shocked, that much was apparent, but then she started laughing.

"Every time, you beast! Each and every time we fuck, I think 'he cannot debauch me any more'. I tell myself that my son cannot take me further into licentiousness. And each and every time you succeed in taking me further down the road to sexual depravity!"

"I can but try mother, I can but try."

Helena rolled into my arms and we embraced lovingly. It was late and I was tired.

"We must try it up my arse soon! If those two fingers were anything to go by, it will be most exciting," were the last words she said to me that night, and I recall thinking as I drifted off to sleep, that I must make that happen for her, as soon as I can.