Written hopefully in the style of the mid 19th Century. Long sentences. Commas where today we would use periods.

A Country house in Devon in the 1850s

Serena

The sun was setting over the western horizon bathing the hill tops with a warm red glow and casting deep shadows across the valleys.

I stood on the terrace outside the ballroom admiring the view. I heard someone behind me, a rustle of silk. Dainty footsteps. Sweet Perfume. Serena Lord Melchett’s only daughter.

“I see you are admiring the view Mr Hardy,” she said quietly.

I didn’t look at her, “Indeed,” I agreed, “Quite stunning.”

“I fear I shall miss it,” she said, “When Bunty whisks me away to the metropolis.”

“It has its compensations,” I explained, “The Crystal Palace, The Thames.”

“The Opera, The Season, oh spare me,” she sighed as she stood beside me.

“You do not relish becoming a Countess then?” I queried.

“I merely state I shall miss this view,” she said coquettishly, “Of course I relish becoming a Countess, it is a dream coming true.”

We stood for a few minutes more talking idly while the sun slipped below the horizon as the band played and couples danced in Lord Melchett’s recently constructed ball room.

“I suppose I should find Bunty,” she said at length and she slipped away.

I continued to stare at the scene as the sun finally disappeared into the far ocean and the lights of the lighthouses twinkled in the far distance.

“Hardy,” a voice said behind me.

“Lord Melchett,” I replied.

“Spending a lot of time with Serena?” he queried.

“Oh, perhaps I have, I had not realised,” I admitted.

“Spoken for,” he said and he touched the side of his nose, “She’s going to be a Countess.”

“I am very pleased for her,” I agreed.

“So’s her bloody mother, over the bloody moon,” he said, “Christ Hardy look at the man,” he said.

I turned, even as we spoke Bunty was standing on a trestle table trying to reach a chandelier that he might swing across the dance floor like an ape.

“He is far from dull!” I laughed.

“An inch at most!” Lord Melchett harrumphed, “Bad business, bloody bad business.”
Serena sat with her friends Marjory and Valeria, I followed Melchett back into the ballroom, “Aren’t you dancing?” he asked Serena.

“Hardly father,” she said and she indicated Bunty who had just fallen off the table for the third time.

“Then Mr Hardy seems free, eh what Hardy, Quadrille with Serena?” he suggested.

“Indeed, would be honoured,” I agreed.

“Good, Good!” he smiled, “At least Hardy has remained sober enough to stand on his own two feet.”

Melchett strode towards the band.

“Ladies and Gentlemen please take your partners for the Quadrille.” the band leader shouted.

Melchett took him by lapel and whispered in his ear. The band leader argued.

“I pay the piper I call the tune!” Melchett bellowed, “Take your partners form the Viennese Waltz.” and he added, “Marjorie, please join me.”

Lady Melchett looked horror struck. Her husband who had at least two if not three left feet proposing to dance, but she left her friend, Bunty’s mother, the dowager countess and swept elegantly onto the dance floor.

“Serena, will you join us?” he asked.

Bunty staggered to his feet as I escorted Serena to the floor, “What a charming couple you make,” Melchett opined.

“I say, my girl?” Bunty butted it.

“Absolutely,” I agreed and made way.

He swayed and threw a punch. he missed by half a yard and the follow through sent him crashing into a table loaded with dirty crockery.

“One two three you oaf!” Lord Melchett ordered the bandleader and the band started playing the waltz “Devonshire,” by Ostler if I recall correctly.

Serena looked horror struck, “Hardy, take your partner,” Melchett ordered.

I tentatively took hold of Serena. My hand in the small of her back. Pulling her to me. Her soft breast against my chest. Her perfume.

“Mr Hardy!” she whispered withn a big smile, “Control yourself.”

My member was swelling, “I must apologise,” I said as we started to dance.

“I rather take it as a compliment,” she laughed as we whirled around the dance floor.

It was a magical moment, nothing else mattered but Serena as I held her, guided her, swept her around the floor. I barely noticed when Lady Melchett fell over Lord Melchett’s feet and they subsided gracefully into a heap, and I easily avoided Bunty’s several clumsy attempts to punch me as we danced the night away. It was only later I found Melchett and ordered the band to keep playing the same tune over and over until only Serena and I were left dancing.

We parted at midnight, no kiss, not even a handshake but merely a “Goodnight,” and I was gone.

Two days later and I was back at my desk at Bristol, the delights of Devon but a distant memory.

My task to plan the new railway line to the west and into Cornwall was well advanced, I had Melchetts agreement to pass over his estate which would save a mile and two river bridges. I admit I was no Brunel but then again while I had no spectacular success I had no disastrous failures either.

However by noon an emergency board meeting had been called for five o’clock that same evening.

I attended and when I was called in I saw Dawkins the lawyer looked most uneasy, and Hastings the accountant almost suicidal.

“What the hell have you done Hardy?” the Chairman asked, “Melchett has withdrawn his support!”

“Withdrawn?” I queried.

“Withdrawn,” he repeated, “Apparently you seduced his daughter and fought her betrothed upon his Lordship’s own dance floor.”

“Oh good god!” I gasped, “Lies, absolute lies.”

“Well the Plymouth and North Cornwall is done for,” the Chairman sighed, “We’ll never get royal assent without Melchett on side.”

“But it is lies!” I protested.

The Chairman stared at me, “Well you have until the stock exchange opens tomorrow Hardy for the shares are not worth the paper they are written on.”

I knew full well he was telling the truth. The one pound shares were half paid, if the value fell there would be a call for payment of the remaining ten shillings depressing the value further, in fact the value would pass naught and become a liability. Indeed sometimes brokers would pay people to buy them, shareholders could become bankrupted.

“Right Gentlemen, the Caradon Mineral Railway,” the Chairman continued. Just because one project failed it did not mean that others should not thrive.

I had one chanced, to beg for mercy from Serena. But another plot came to my mind, shares worthless? What if I acquired a substantial holding and then made peace with Serena?

I caught the night time goods train to London Paddington and arrived far from fresh at four in the morning. I went to all my friends desperate to borrow money and finally arrived at the stock exchange as the doors opened.

There was no interest in Plymouth and North Cornwall Railway Stock. I waited. By lunchtime the Devon News newspaper had arrived from Plymouth. It had the story P&NCR wayleave cancelled. P&NCR to be liquidated. Suddenly P&NCR stock was offered. I chased it, quietly circumspectly you understand. And when it was offered I averred “Damnit man, there’s ten bob unpaid, You’ll have to pay me to take them off your hands!”

Within ten minutes the rumour was abroad, P&NCR stock was worthless, less than worthless. Toxic.

I lost count of the transactions. I must have formed a dozen imaginary shell companies with myself as company secretary. I think by days end I had acquired over 50#% of the shares for four pounds seven shillings and sixpence. Several brokers had indeed paid me to take the shares off their hands.

Next I went west again to clear my name.

I went straight to the newspaper, “Where did you get these lies?” I demanded.

“Why his lordship’s butler!” I was told.

“What Flanagan, that Irish beanpole?” I queried.

“No Mr Portside, a rotund fellow, red face, moustache,” he explained as he described Lord Melchett.

I smelled a nest of rodents and made my way to Nether Melchett and Melchett Hall.

I strode in to the servants entranced unannounced.

“Where is he?” I demanded.

“Mr Hardy,” Lord Melchett greeted me, “At last.”

“What have you done?” I demanded.

“Nothing you did not want to do Mr Hardy.” he surmised, “Did you not consider sneaking back after mid night. You might have climbed a drain pipe or sneaked in the servant’s entrance. You might have slipped into Serena’s bed chamber. You might have bared her and ravished her if you were not so punctillious and determined not to offend.

“Bared her and ravished her?” I demanded.

“Indeed Hardy, I read your thoughts.” he confessed, “The bulge in your breeches. The tender way you held her.”
“Good lord no sir, it was politeness no more?” I replied.

“And the bulge?” he enquired with a laugh, “That fool Bunty has no feeling for her. When I faced having Bloody Bunty’s offspring as grand children and that oaf as a son in law I had to act.

“Act sir, how so?” I asked.

“Ah ha!” he said, “Now that would be telling!” and he laughed and called “Serena, come down would you?”

She appeared a few moments later, “Mr Hardy, what brings you here?” she enquired.

“He means to bed you my dear, I am sorry, I am too old and tired to defend you,” he said.

“Oh please ignore him Mr Hardy he is quite quite mad,” she declared, “He has it in his mind that you have fallen madly in love with me.”

“Ah, an easy mistake to make,” I confessed, “I find your company very pleasant but please be assured I have no plans to ravish you.”

“Oh I am so disappointed,” she said sarcastically.

“And that is your last word Hardy?” Lord Melchett enquired.

“Except to say I should not resist excessively if she were to try to ravish me,” I laughed.

“Oh that is so reassuring, when being a Countess begins to pall I shall seek you out Mr Hardy.” she laughed.

“Better give it two days Hardy,” Lord Melchett laughed.

“Father!” Serena snapped, “Bunty loves me!”

“And do you love him?” he asked.

“Mama says love will grow,” she insisted.

“I’m still waiting for your mother’s love to grow,” Lord Melchett admitted, “But be it.”

Flanagan Lord Melchett’s butler coughed politely and announced “Lord Buntingdale My Lord.”

“Ah Bunty,” Lord Melchett said delightedly, “Come for a touch of sport, Hardy here has been trying to seduce sweet Serena.”

“Really?” Bunty agreed.

“Declared his undying love,” Lord Melchett explained, “That is right is it not Mr Hardy?”

“I come to renegotiate the way leave no more no less, I am a Civil Engineer not a love struck lothario!” I explained.

“Civil Engineer, eh.” Bunty opined, “I should not like to meet a rude one!”

And then Lord Melchett continued our supposed conversation, “But no Hardy,” he insisted, “I shall not reconsider, my mind is made up, I shall not sell the wayleave, your railway shall not pass my door.”

“But My Lord,” I explained, “Please reconsider, I think we might be able to increase the sum if that is a problem?”

“Finances are not the issue,” Melchett admitted, “It was to be Serena’s dowry but now she engaged to be a Countess what need has she of a dowry?”

“But My Lord,” I protested.

“No my mind is made up,” he insisted, “Now Gentleman what about this duel?”

“What duel,” I demanded.

“Why over Serena of course,” Melchett laughed, “Nothing like a good duel.”

Bunty said, “A simple apology would suffice.”

“So there it is Hardy, apologise,” Lord Melchett prompted, “Apologise for seducing sweet Serena.”

“Dear God,” I sighed, “How shall I convince you that I did nothing improper!”

“Are you suggesting Serena encouraged your advances?” Melchett demanded.

“I most certainly did not!” Serena exclaimed.

“There you see she confirms it!” Melchett sighed. “Hardy pressed himself upon poor innocent Serena, took her honour and still he refuses to apologise!”

Bunty looked at me, “I say Hardy, what say you we leave this mad house and the old duffer and take a small libation at the Dog and Duck or some such I saw in the village?”

“Bunty?” Serena exclaimed, “It is all a figment of father’s warped imagination!”

“Quite possibly dearest,” Serena explained, “But you cannot seriously expect me to fight a duel with a Civil Engineer to please your father can you?”

Lord Melchett smiled broadly. “Oh well, I shall wish you a good afternoon Lord Buntingthorpe, Mr Hardy.” He turned his back on us and ushered Serena from the room.

“A libation My Lord?” I queried.

“No, but anything to escape from this madhouse,” He explained, “My head is spinning, I cannot stand another minute of this man and his madness.”

The Public House was the Horse and Hound, though Whores and Hound would have been a better description. “Thank god, civilisation!” Bunty exclaimed, “Porter Hardy, Mead, Cider?” he asked.

“Ginger ale?” I queried.

“An Ale, a Ginger Ale and a wench if you please Landlord!” Bunty asked, “Wench for you too Hardy?” he queried.

“No, I thank you,” I demurred.

“Just one wench Landlord,” Bunty demanded.

She came down from the bedroom. Her bosoms preceded her. Her face had more paint than the Sistine Chapel. Her tired eyes stared from charcoaled chasms. Her skirts barely covered her knees. “Ah very comely!” Bunty opined, “Pay the Landlord Hardy!” he added.

“Yes, ah how much?” I asked.

“Why a golden Guinea of course!” she declared. I paid with alacrity, more to get away from Bunty than anything, and then they were gone. Rushing upstairs. Laughing and giggling.

I drank my Ginger Ale. Perhaps I should have left it on the bar and run away but as I supped from the cup I heard a pair of horses outside. The door opened and Melchett stepped inside followed by Serena.

The Landlord looked shocked, “My Lord. May I say what a pleasure it is and what may I be getting you?” he asked.

“Oh really father this is becoming tedious,” Serena opined.

“Landlord, my esteemed daughter has regrettably been ruined by some blackguard who refuses to make her an offer.” Melchett explained, “I fear the only recourse I have is to place her in your employ as a whore.”

The Landlord had a look of utter confusion. “Yes My Lord.” he agreed.

“Good, upstairs with you then Serena, I shall send Mr Hardy to ravish you when we have had a brief discussion regarding business.

“Father really!” Serena exclaimed.

“Upstairs now!” he repeated, “Or I’ll strip you bare and allow Hardy to mount you across the bar!”

“You are quite quite mad!” she opined.

“Up here my lady,” the Landlord suggested and he opened the door to the stairs.

Serena started the climb. Melchett followed, but he winked at me. A moment passed. I followed.

“Bunty!” Serena cried out despairingly, “Bunty!”

Poor Bunty was busy pleasuring the Landlord’s rather worn and wan sister when Serena burst in upon them.

“Get out, Get out,” he shouted.

“Oh Bunty!” Serena declared, “But why Bunty?”

Bunty reluctantly ceased ploughing the wench before announcing,“She has big Norks and Hardy paid, so why not,” he declared quite reasonably, “You’re not going all precious on me are you Serena?”

“Good God precious!” Serena complained, “You’ve cuckolded me at Hardy’s expense even before we are wed!”

“Well you have been consorting with Hardy!” Bunty declared.

“But I have not!” she insisted, “”I am pure!”

“Prove it!” Bunty challenged, “Show us your precious maidenhead.”

“Oh for heavens sake you odious prig,” Serena protested, “I am not one of your common whores, I shall show you nothing, nothing at all.”

“Obviously the deed has been done,” Melchett said sadly he thought a moment and said quite deliberately, “Well Hardy, what’s it to be, make the wench an offer or Totnes Assises on a count of ravishment?” he asked.

“May I think it over?” I asked.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, “But you must decide before you return to Bristol Mr Hardy. Why we might well lock the pair of you in a bedroom until you see sense.”

“Oh father don’t be such an oaf!” Serena declared, “I have no feelings what so ever for Mr Hardy and he has none for me.”

“Oh Hardy has feelings for you Serena, just look at his swollen breeches!” Lord Melchett laughed.

They all stared, and I am embarrassed to own that it was true, though the Landlord’s sister and her enormous norks may have had more to do with it than Serena.

“While poor Bunty’s ardour is seemly spent,” Lord Melchett declared.

“Indeed father,” Serena agreed, “And I wish Bunty and his new beau every happiness.”

“Serena, she means nothing to me!” Bunty protested.

“I should hope not sir,” the wench insisted as she hurriedly dressed, “He only paid a short time and he’s had that!”

“Look Serena a chap has to have his fun, don’t you see?” Bunty pleaded.

“Really?” Serena enquired, “Then you won’t object to Mr Hardy and I having some ‘Fun’ as well?”

“Absolutely,” Lord Melchett agreed, “Why not use the four poster in the Green room?”

“I was thinking about a game of Chess,” Serena explained.

“Oh surely you will allow Mr Hardy’s advances, he does look most discomfited with his appendage so swollen.” Lord Melchett opined.

“Perhaps you would like me to lay for him like a common prostitute father?” Serena suggested.

“Capital idea!” he said, “What say you Hardy?”

”You sir are quite quite mad, and you Serena you disgust me!” Bunty exclaimed as he rapidly retreated whilst stuffing his appendage back into his breeches.

”Will you be wanting anything sir?” The wench asked hopefully.

”A nibble of your mountainous norks would be very tolerable my dear,” Lord Melchett opined, ”To help while away the time whist we wait for these two to conjoin.”

“Surely father you do not wish MrHardy to mount me?” Serena asked.

“Only if it will please you,” he explained.

“And how shall I know that until I have experienced it?” she demanded.

“Ah,” he explained, “If he pleases you then you may accept his offer, if not it is Totnes Assizes.”

“But father either way my reputation will be ruined, and then who will have me?” Serena asked.

“Pretty girl like you men would be queueing in their droves,” the wench opined.

“Oh wonderful!” Serena sighed, “Mr Hardy please put father out of his misery.”

“I would but my flintlock is in my saddlebag,” I admitted.

“Not kill him Mr Hardy, but,” Serena explained. So I reached out and held her by the waist, Lofted her skirts and pushed her on the bed.

“Of marriage you oaf!” she snapped but her skirts were up and my breeches down.

My rigid cock, her moistened quim, “Oh lord you’re going to aren’t you!” she gasped as my member swelled and I guided it towards her special place.

It pained her, she cried out but Melchett merely laughed. .

“Say after me, ‘With this Cock I thee honour,” Melchett ordered. The tears poured down his cheeks, “Marjory will kill me!”

“Oh, sorry!” I apologised.

“Well don’t stop now,” Serena protested, “You have ruined me, so at least afford me some pleasure!”

“Ah,” Melchett declared and he addressed the wench, “Your norks my dear,what say you we repair to another room that I might have a little play?”

“Two shillings sir, for a proper gentleman,” the wench advised, “Same as me cunt.”

”Come along Hardy ravish me,” Serena demanded as her father left the room.

“Very well,” I agreed and I started to kiss her. Her face. Her Lips. Her Ears. Her neck.

She became impatient and ground her loins against mine. I held her. She stilled, the pain melted away.

I kissed her and started to move my member more urgently within her. I rocked back and forth and kissed her and all at once we started to rock as one but with an increasingly rapid rhythm.

Finally I exploded with a veritable fountain of cum, drenching her parts and quenching her fire.

She looked at me quizzically as I stilled, my task completed.

“I suppose I may now be with child,” she said, “Your child,” but even as I pulled from her she had no urgency about wiping my emissions from her. She rearranged her dress thoughtfully as I made myself decent and we made our way downstairs.

We walked back to house, neither Serena nor I could really comprehend what had occurred.

Melchett was in fine form. He swept into the house, “Marjorie, have the green bedroom prepared for Serena and Mr Hardy they have become lovers.”

“Sir, we have fornicated once, that does not constitute love!” I declared.

“Then bang her ‘till she does love you,” Melchett declared, “Quickly Dinner is at eight,you have an hour at most.”

Serena smiled, “Shall we?” she said, “We can just talk he won’t know the difference,” Serena suggested.

So we talked, about love, and marriage, and Bunty, and love and the modes of love.

And then we made love, passionately, noisily, nakedly. “Dinner is served!” Lord Melchett suddenly announced by opening the door and peering in. “Well done Hardy, have a feed man, try for the hat trick after supper.”

“Father!” Serena complained, “I am not some common whore you know!”

“But with Hardy here to guide you who knows how good you might become,” Melchett advised, “Keep the snake drained, rampant snakes make for mischief.”

“He is totally utterly and completely mad,” Serena sighed, “But for all that you do seem to have a pleasant aptitude for this business of fucking.”

“Made a pretty penny on shares in the damned railway,” Melchett advised, “Mark my words Serena the day of the Countess is near gone. Tomorrow belongs to business, railways, ships, crystal palaces, business Serena.”

“And businessmen need whores?” Serena agreed.

“But having a wife saves up to five shillings a night Serena, so think on.” Lord Melchett explained.

“Just go away Daddy,” Serena insisted and when the door shut she pulled my head down and kissed my lips.

“Some ninety pounds a night saved eh?” I queried, “Serena, will you marry me.”

“If you please me again before supper I shall give the proposal due consideration,” she laughed, “Exactly how much money did you make on the railway shares?”

I told her of my trip to London.

“Then I suppose I had better say yes,” she agreed, “Before one of those London society belles snaps you up!”

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