Rated R - Sex

My Darling Love

Chapter 27 – Uninvited Guests

"In order to be walked on, you have to be lying down."

-Brian Weir

Mary believed she was about to go insane and was sure she only needed one more incident to push herself over the edge and it came.

Late that very same evening, there came a quiet tapping at her back door. Mary went, curious of who would be calling, and stranger still, who would be calling at the backdoor. She unlatched the lock and found Margaret Davis standing before her with a look of utter panic on her face. "Mrs. Darling..." Margaret managed before she broke into a flood of tears.

Since the day that Aunt Millicent took Margaret, Mary had seen them nearly every day for the purpose of Millicent being able to show off the small talk of the proper young lady she had raised. With more money than the Darling family could have ever contributed, Margaret was sent to the finest of schools. She was already eighteen, and Millicent held a grand coming-out party to introduce Margaret to polite society.

George and Mary ("poor relations," as Aunt Millicent called them) were on the guest list, but did not attend because their children were not welcome. "You understand, Mary and George, there will be only the finest of London society there, and your children, well, I hope you understand, they are just not ... well ... the finest of London society," Aunt Millicent mumbled in the parlor, after enjoying another delicious meal provided by Mr. George Darling, again uninvited.

Mary and George said nothing; Grandpa Joe booted his sister from the house without her coat.

So there Margaret stood, with a terrified look on her face, her head bobbing, with tears raining down her face, and eyes that pleaded to gain access. "Oh dear, what have we here?" Mary began, and she directed Margaret into the house.

Margaret took a seat at Mary's kitchen table, and then stood suddenly to remove her coat. Margaret sat back down quickly and stared wide-eyed and full of fear at Mary.

"I didn't know where else to go," Margaret finally blurted. "You have to hide me here! YOU HAVE TO!" Margaret screamed.

Now Mary, wide-eyed, still standing, watched the innocent girl before her look about the room like a mouse about to be pounced on by a cat. "Please say you will hide me, if she finds me, she'll kill me, she told me she would. I know she will, she told me that she spent loads of money making sure I marry the right gentleman, and if I spoil her plans she will see me dead, she will bury my body somewhere and no one will ever find me. Please...!"

"Who told you they would kill you?" Mary across from Margaret and held her hands.

"Millicent," Margaret whispered, still looking about to see if anyone was listening.

"I don't understand, dear, your mother is here every single day as has mentioned nothing of killing you. Whatever is going on between the two of you, you will have to tell me. I'm sure whatever it is, it's certainly not as bad as you fear," Mary offered sympathetically.

"She's not my mother..." Margaret mumbled first and then began to rage, "He told me if I loved him, I would. But I don't love him; I just wanted him to leave me alone. I just did it so he would leave me alone. He left me alone, Mrs. Darling, and then he left me with this. He left me with this!" As Margaret choked through her weeping, she pushed back her chair and showed Mary her rounding belly. Mary gasped with understanding, squeezing the girl's hands. "I tried to get rid of it, I even threw myself down the stairs, but I can't get rid of it. I haven't eaten in days. I was hoping to starve it out. It just won't go away, I just want it to go away. And Millicent watches my monthlies and when she notices that I stopped having them she will know. I ran into the pointed end of my nightstands, I bathed in ice cold water and then in boiling hot water, I fastened my corset as tightly as it will go, and I was trying to hide it, so maybe it would go away..." Mary hushed Margaret, not wanting to hear anymore, but Margaret continued.

"Millicent said that your husband got you in a bad way and your father made him marry you. Millicent said that Mr. Darling spoiled you against your will, and that you felt sorry for him and that's why you say you love him when really you don't. I don't want to marry him. I don't have a father that will make him marry me anymore, so I thought I would be safe. But I know Millicent will make me marry someone, and I know he'll be worse, because he will know the baby isn't his and he'll punish me. He told me after she finds out who he is; she will put me out on the streets. He wanted me to run away with him tonight, but I wouldn't." Margaret now removed her scarf and there, on her neck, were fresh bruises, handprints wrapped around. "He did this to me when I told him I wouldn't run away with him and do what he wants anymore."

Margaret was scrawny for age, petite in size. Whatever hells she went through as a small child left its evidence on her face and body. Her hair was red like her mother before her, although instead of Penny's thick wavy locks, Margaret's hair was thinned and straight like her father's. She was very skinny and still flat as a board, no ample bosom or bum. Millicent had bragged of Margaret's good looks, but as Mary gazed upon her face she saw no notable beauty. If anything Margaret had nothing more than a feminine version of her father's features. Still sitting across from Margaret, James Shipman was whom Mary saw staring back.

"Dearest child, we are far from the same. I married the man I loved and no one forced him to marry me. Not my father, not your mother. I'm sorry, I meant Millicent, she is not your mother, you call her Millicent. With that being said, he never forced himself on me either. Now this is quite shocking, you understand, I know you've been away at school, but I was unaware you were being courted by anyone. Your mother swears you're as pure as new snow. Who is this young man?"

Mary was not sure what she should do. Her first thought was to call the constable, but in the back of her mind, she knew her Aunt Millicent would want to handle the situation herself. Margaret refused to identify the father of her child, and left Mary with no other choice. "I'll make you some tea dear, take your rest at the table, dear, and I will right back."

Mary made the tea and went to her bedroom. She opened the locked door and found George sitting on their bed staring out the window. "George," she said, and, when he looked at her, she continued. "Margaret Davis is downstairs and you are not going to believe this."

Mary told him all she said and he watched, taken aback by the news. When Mary inquired what they should do, George responded, "Let's talk with Grandpa Joe." Mary called him, and he entered their room. Never having been there before, he glanced about before taking a seat on the chair nearest the window, while Mary again recounted the story of Margaret, the nameless man, and Aunt Millicent.

"Impossible," Grandpa Joe retorted first. "Absolutely impossible." The second comment he made: "She can't stay here, bad influence on Wendy." His third remark he made shaking his head: "It's Millicent's fault. She dotes on that girl, spoils her rotten. Who knows what's true and what's not? I know you, Mary Elizabeth, you're thinking that's Penny sitting downstairs, crying in her tea, but its not. I'm afraid she's got more of her father's wicked spirit in her. But that's neither here nor there. My feelings on the situation more to the point, she got herself in trouble being wayward with the kind of boy Millicent wouldn't approve of, and doesn't want to lose the golden goose."

Mary knew it was not Penny downstairs and she reiterated that fact with George nodding in agreement. "What should we do?" Mary asked.

"I think you both should talk to your children about those intimate matters. I unlocked the door for that conversation tonight, now you must open it and enter through it with them. Best not to make the same mistakes your parents did by waiting until it is too late. I'll handle Margaret and Millicent."

The three of them went downstairs to the kitchen and found it empty. She had fled their house and took George's wallet and pocket watch with her. "Call the constable, I'll go see Millicent," Grandpa Joe said, putting on his coat and hat.

George called the constable, "She stole the items out of my coat pocket. Only a few shillings, I just got a haircut today and paid the grocer my account in full. But the pocket watch was a gift from my wife, and I would like it returned," he told the copper as he made his report.

"This girl has been missing for over a week now. Her mother's worried sick. She stops by the station three times a day asking if we've heard anything, asking us not to spread gossip. Women and their pretty daughters who want to marry well, shame," the constable shook his head as he tipped his hat and went on his way.

Mary and George looked to one another, as they often did in times like these; they smiled encouragingly and embraced, just happy to have a strong partner in each other, they met in a kiss.

"Intimate matters, whatever will you tell Wendy?" George asked as he walked up the stairs behind Mary.

She didn't answer him until she was safely inside their bedchamber. "I guess it depends on how well you perform tonight, my darling love."

While George kissed Mary's neck as he unbuttoned her blouse, she wondered what she would tell Wendy of those secret details her daughter would need to know about being a woman. He kissed down her neck and back to her mouth. He eased his lips gently across hers, and to her earlobe. Down her face to her collarbone and back up to her mouth he greeted her lips in a passionate kiss. He pushed her blouse gently off, moving his check and nose against the sensitive skin along her shoulders; he inhaled her perfume and whispered with heated breath in her ear, "I have always loved your scent, Mary, still the same after all these years."

Mary moved her head to accommodate his lips that were once again in motion, kissing and licking her neck and up her throat. "Shall I undress now?" Mary asked in a mocking tone.

"May I watch?" George answered, not missing an inch of her exposed skin with his mouth.

"Yes George, watch me."

Mary rose from the bed where they sat and unfastened her skirt. It fell from her, and as George stared at the wonder before him, Mary undid the fastenings of her undergarments and slowly removed them. To tease him, she lifted one leg at a time on the bed, little by little rolling down her stockings from the length of her thigh to her ankle and finally off her pretty toes. The last thing to be stripped was her hair: she detached the clip that held her twist in place and let her long locks fall down her back. Mary's hair grew straight as an arrow, but, being wrapped up all day, it curled in flowing waves at night when she set it free.

"You are truly the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life, Mary," George said amorously. The scar of Michael's birth was still there on her abdomen, but the years had softened and faded the color. But that did not matter to George, for Mary was perfect in every way. She stood before him as bare as the day she was born. He rose from the bed and knelt before her. "Mary Elizabeth Baker, would you marry me?" he asked in as serious a tone as if it were truly a formal proposal she should have received in the company of others.

"George, don't be foolish."

He clutched both her hands in his and watched her, "No you have to answer me. Please, please say yes."

"Yes, George. I will marry you." She smiled, flattered by his gesture. "I will marry you as soon as you make love to me." On his knees, he removed his tie and shirt. As he rose he pulled off his pants and underwear, leaving his socks, which made Mary giggle. He kissed his wife and lifted her up and over to the bed. "I want you now, George. It has been forever and a day since we've last," Mary pled, but George did not oblige.

"The children are asleep, your father is not home, Mary, why are you in such a rush?"

Mary groaned her delight as he ran his tongue up her neck and met her lips once more. He kissed down her neck and to her breasts, licking and tasting her nipples keeping his eyes on her as he went. George teased her, moving on top of her, and just as she was sure of his penetration, he would slide back down and caress her body with his hands and explore her more with his mouth.

"Please, I can not wait any longer!" Mary beseeched him, panting. George gazed up at his wife and shook his head. He ran his tongue down her stomach to the wetness that lubricated her opening. In only moments, George had Mary clutching the bed sheets and biting her tongue so hard she tasted blood to keep from crying aloud.

Finally, when she could bear it no longer, she pushed him forcefully from her. He fell backwards onto the floor, unaccustomed to her aggressiveness. Mary sprang off the bed, and before George could sit up, she mounted him and rammed herself down onto his member.

Now she was in control and he was the one pleading. And just as he had, she too teased, and only gave a little of herself at a time. Mary's movements were slow and pleasing, then hard and quick that left George gasping for air. When she felt his release near, she stopped all together and made him wait, shaking her finger at him taunting, "Why the rush, George?" She ran her nails down his chest, leaving red marks on her husband's skin, which made him bite his lip. "You must experience a little pain for all the pleasure I am about to give you," she whispered while she started riding him again.

"And what of your pain, Mary?" he asked, as he flipped her on her back and began to rut vigorously into her while holding her arms above her head.

Mary sank her teeth into his neck fiercely and George released her arms. "Harder, George, faster. I want to feel every inch of you inside of me," she panted to him and he indulged. As he did, Mary continued to scratch and clutch at his back. Suddenly George ceased his movements and smoothly removed himself from Mary. He stood and extended his member to her open wanting mouth, "It's so sweet, George, like honey..." Mary purred as he gushed into her mouth and over her lips, which she licked before enveloping his length back into her mouth, sucking him clean. He grinned in complete satisfaction, as Mary tasted her fingertips, making sure not one drop of him went to waste.

He gave her his hand to her to help her up. "It's been months for us, Mary," he said.

She nodded. "I know, George, I'm sorry to keep you waiting." Together they walked to their bed and lay down, both of their backs now uncomfortable -- George's stung from the scraping of Mary's nails, Mary's ached from the rug abrasions caused by George's powerful thrusting.

What would Mary tell Wendy of lovemaking? Scenes such as this one grew from years of togetherness, understanding the other's wants and how they want it. Each time, it could be different, or each time it could be the same, but the contentment and fulfillment was always there, nonetheless.

But on this occasion Mary had not reached completion, so there was disappointment and an apology. "I tried to hold myself for you, but I just could not concentrate enough to stop. I'm sorry, Mary." George was sincere and bothered, he hated to walk in heaven and leave Mary in the clouds below. Maybe that is what being a woman is all about; knowing that even through the most valiant efforts, Prince Charming will not always be able to save the day.

At least not the first time, and that is what second chances are for. Only an hour later, George made love to Mary again. Different in every way; it was tender and adoring with lingering passion and Mary's completion not only in the end but also at the start as well. Lovers should be equal in their sharing; therefore George began where Mary had left off with a wanting and very willing mouth. They slept embraced in one another's arms, wrapped up tight in their blanket. It had been a long time since they were last together, and Mary had unwittingly forgotten the times where everything they did in life, they did together, and if not together, then for the other. This is what Mary would tell Wendy -- about the intimate relationship of two people madly in love who were lucky enough to meet and marry.

But not tonight, for this night belonged to George, and at least for tonight, for Mary there was no other.

Grandpa Joe returned very late, well past midnight. He wanted to talk with George and Mary, but seeing the house quiet and no light coming from under their door, he decided it could wait until morning. He was the first one awake, at first light, and waited in the kitchen for Mary to come down. She did, humming happily to herself, and smiled at her father when he looked up to greet her.

Whatever happy memories she had of the previous night were pushed from her mind with Grandpa Joe's glum expression. Wasting no time in giving the details, he began.

"Margaret went missing a week ago. Millicent suspected something foul, but was afraid to tell anyone out of fear of the gossip." He rolled his eyes heavenward, and took a moment to shake his head. "Apparently, she's been quite rebellious as of late, being tired of the prison my sister keeps her locked in." Now he chuckled, for Michael said only yesterday the Darling residence was a prison. "Margaret has already run away several times from that expensive boarding school she's been sent to. Millie's found loads of money missing from her accounts and plenty of her other costly items in the pawnshop. Margaret denies it all, but like I said myself last night, she's got too much of her father's blood in her to be anything worth saving. And Millicent, intent on being the blessed savior herself, has been doing everything she can to make sure that a repeat of what you did with George would never happen to Margaret."

"Oh really, and what did I do with George?" Mary asked with her hands on her hips, affronted and annoyed that old scandals never seemed to be forgotten.

"Mary Elizabeth, you know that's water under the bridge with me, but your Aunt Millicent..." Grandpa Joe motioned for Mary to sit and she did.

"Look, Mary Elizabeth, don't lie to me, I hear the way you and George bicker back and forth over Wendy and those rumors he's been hearing at work. I know we all don't believe them, but Millicent does and my sister is a creature of competition. She wants Margaret to be a superior young lady who marries better than Wendy and has a far more impressive and desirable lifestyle. She's jealous that after all your sins -- and that's what she called them, not me -- Wendy is so beautiful and well behaved with not a scuff on her reputation, even after what's been said about her, when she should by all rights have the devil in her and be called a girl of easy virtue."

Now Mary rolled her eyes heavenward, and shook her head to the ceiling. "I asked Wendy about those rumors myself, and she said there are girls at her school who do not like her that started them to be mean." Mary clasped her hands in front of her on the table. "Girls that age can be so catty and jealous, Wendy said a boy liked her, well a few boys, but she is not ready to be courted. Apparently, one of these girls also likes one of those boys and that is why she spread the gossip, because that boy would not even look at her, because he likes Wendy. All very childish, if you ask me. I don't even know why I asked her about that silly rubbish. There is no way Wendy would bed all those different boys, it's just not possible. Wherever would she get that idea first of all, she still a young girl! She has no suitors, no one comes to call on her, and she doesn't even want to be courted. All she wants to do is sit in her room and write her stories and draw her pictures. And aside from that, Father, I lay down for George only twice--"

Mary stopped speaking and shook her head, for that was not something she wanted to share with her father, but he only chuckled and said, "You lay down for George twice and he put a baby in you, yes, Mary Elizabeth, I'm not stupid or senile for that matter, and that much I remember. And your thinking is, if you never talked to Wendy and never told her how not to get a baby from a boy, she would already have one with the way the gossip about her is spread."

"Exactly," Mary answered, offering her father an innocent grin with her hands folded under her chin.

"Well, Millicent has no idea of Margaret's condition, and I did not feel I was the one who needed to tell her. All she knows is that there is a man hired at the school under the title of caretaker, and from what Margaret's professors suppose, the two are quite fond of one another. Anyway, he denies anything went on between them, as he is considerably older than Margaret. He has been arrested and charged with her abduction, nonetheless, the poor bastard." Grandpa Joe was still shaking his head. "We should be thankful that it is not Wendy who has encountered these troubles. I'd hate to have to go through all that if I were a young girl. But I feel sorry for Millie, too, the cage she keeps that girl in, and her doing it because she felt it was what was best for her. And she goes and runs away... I hope that doesn't happen in this house again."

"Wendy and the boys ran away once, and once is plenty enough," Mary commented as George came in dressed for work. He went to the table and sat in the chair Mary had just vacated.

"Mary, my breakfast," he commanded with no smile. George's angry expression stunned Mary and Grandpa Joe. She turned to get a better look at his face, and he glared up to her and answered her quizzical stare. "Mary, my breakfast, NOW." She turned on her heel and began to shift about and gather up the food to be prepared. "You don't even have anything ready yet? What have you been doing all morning? Oh never mind, I'll get something on the way to work. I'm already late..." George's tone was pure frustration and he quickly rose without another word and stormed out the front door.

"What was that all about? Did you two have words last night after I left?" Grandpa Joe also stood to watch George's departure. Mary was holding the eggs in one hand and fresh bacon in the other, concerned at her husband's odd disposition she replied, "Quite the contrary, we had a lovely evening together after the house was asleep."

Before she could venture a guess at George's aberrations, the children entered dressed and ready for school. Wendy, John and Michael sat around the table in silence. Grandpa Joe and Mary watched the children eat in silence, all having the strangest expressions, not looking at the other, only to their plates.

"Alright children, who wants to tell me what's going on?" Mary finally demanded.

"Is father still angry with us mother?" Wendy asked, not making eye contact, still looking at her plate.

"Your father was not angry with you Wendy, he was angry with Michael." As Mary answered, she held Michael by his shoulders from behind as he now dipped his head so low his face touched the table. "But that has passed, and now shall begin anew in this house. Did your father say something to you this morning?"

John looked up and around at his siblings, and with Wendy's nod, he spoke, "Last night after dinner, a man rang the bell, he had found a letter for father he forgot to deliver to him earlier in the day. I accepted it on father's behalf, but with all that happened with Michael, I forgot to give it to him until this morning. I found it in my coat pocket and apologized for my absent mindedness. He did not seem angry until he read it, then he told me I was never allowed to answer the bell again."

Mary gave her father a distressed look of confusion that he returned. "Who was it from?" she asked, her voice quivering.

John handed his mother the envelope, George had discarded it in his haste to read the letter contained within. It was sent to the Darling Home, number fourteen, but there was no name listed as sender, only listing an elegant hotel in London, where only the wealthiest stayed when in town, given as its point of origin. Mary showed her father, and his expression changed to one of revelation, as if something he had been wondering about finally made sense.

"I think I shall inquire at the hotel for the sender of this letter. It may be important," Mary offered, removing the envelope from her father's hands.

"No, Mary Elizabeth, let me do that for you." Her father rose and extended his hand to his daughter with the expectation of her handing it over without question.

"No, really Father, it's alright, I have to go out this morning, the least I can do for George is offer my apologizes to the sender for his delay in answering the call last night."

"What if it is a business associate of George's?" Grandpa Joe inquired.

Mary replied, "Well, Father, who else would it be?" Grandpa Joe sat back down at his chair and opened his morning paper.

The children stared at their mother and grandfather, feeling confused and a nuisance, as if their presence alone was preventing the two adults from speaking freely. "Let's go to school or we will be late." Wendy rose with her brothers and took off through the back door without breakfast.

The moment the children left the house, Grandpa Joe got up and stood beside Mary, who was beginning the laundry. The envelope was stuffed into her apron pocket, and her father, the man of the house when George was off to work, spoke, "I think Peter maybe in town visiting. I will not have you go to that hotel by yourself unescorted, so if you want to see whatever it is he wants, I, as your father, am going with you."

His voice was stern, but Mary was oblivious to his apprehension. She only replied, "I don't think Peter is in town, why would he come? George swore he would never speak to him again. Why would I doubt his word? I was only troubled that the colleague George stays late with on Tuesdays at the bank was upset he was unable to stay last night. After all, last night was Tuesday."

Mary handed her father the washbasin she had just filled and he carried to the counter she did the washing on and he questioned, "Do you want to tell me something, Mary Elizabeth?"

Mary turned her head to her father and offered the same innocent grin he had seen only a few minutes before. "No, is there something you want to tell me?"

Grandpa Joe began scrubbing the dishtowels on the washboard and casually replied, "No, Mary Elizabeth."

They did the few items of laundry in silence, Mary then taking her leave to go to the backyard to hang the items on the line to dry. Grandpa Joe followed her to clothesline and put on his coat, "I'm going out for walk, Mary Elizabeth. I'll be back soon." Mary did not respond, although she wave good-bye with her back turned to him as she worked.