Draining the Humor (5)- a night at the opera

5-a night at the opera

The Arteberrys and the Hookwells set up a date for an outing.
Lucy had a supporting role in an upcoming London opera, and the couples decided the event would be a good occasion to socialize afterwards.
Orion arranged to get them a booth, but stepping up the stairs, a foot shot out of one of the private booths and Orion nearly tripped.
The curtains were drawn aside and Charles revealed himself. He smirked at the couple and Bri’s laugh erupted. Half the opera house turned to stare and hiss for silence. Bri hid her face in Orion’s shirt as he shrugged and stepped forward.
Bri took in Charles’ appearance. As always, he was appealing, though today he had dressed rather nicely for his wife’s show. Not like a sailor at all. He even had his longish hair pulled back, giving him an almost feminine look.
But there was someone there Bri recognized but could not name.
The muscular blonde man she had seen at Lucy’s piano a few weeks ago.
“Charles, we were heading to our booth,” Orion announced.
“Nonsense. You’re sitting with Amadeus and I. He is a bore in conversation. A good chap, but a bloody bore.”
Amadeus shrugged, apparently used to Charles’ bluntness.
“Have we met?” Bri interrupted, nodding to Amadeus.
Already, Charles was eyeing Orion. The earl looked away shyly and Bri squeezed his hand.
Amadeus answered gruffly, his voice thick with a German accent, “Ch’ay. Not formally. Amadeus Frunberg, my lady.”
“Brigid Hookwell,” she gave a small bow. “And this is my husband Lord Hookwell.”
Amadeus nodded in acknowledgement, apparently a man of few words.
Charles easily compensated for Amadeus’ silence.
“Lucy sings a love song and then exits. I’m considering doing the same, except I’d be beaten if I left early. Perhaps you two can bloody well entertain me during this thing.”
“You don’t like opera, Mr. Arteberry?” Bri asked.
“Charles does not like most things,” Orion spoke as he allowed his wife to sit first. “He can be quite harsh.”
“But that is what you like about me, isn’t it, my lord?”
Orion merely changed the topic. “What is the role your wife shall play?”
“A Queen reminiscing a young romance. Her lover died as a result of their copulating and because he was a commoner had his head whacked off. It’s tearful and lovely and all that mess. Brigid,” Charles snapped them out of their comfort zone by calling her by her first name. “I know my brother Stephen must have taken you to operas before. Did you ever fall asleep during one?”
“I think they sing too loud for me to go to sleep, Charles,” she returned the casual address. “Have you?”
“No, but I have had my cock sucked in one of these private booths. During a very long solo from a diva. I find people suck better when they are bored.”
Amadeus rolled his eyes and Bri took Orion’s hand.
Charles was as aggressive as she recalled. Orion’s emotions were not yet legible. He was staring ahead at the stage as the overture came swelling to its grand middle. His green eyes cleared a bit and he turned to look at Charles.
It was then Bri wondered how two creatures, so contrast in their ways, could have united even for one night of passion.
“Charles, will you behave for your wife’s sake?” Orion asked.
“I wonder if I ever have,” Charles challenged the earl.
Bri would be more comfortable talking to Charles and Orion about their ulterior motifs if Amadeus was not present. She looked the man over. He was rather strapping, but did not seem the type Charles would befriend. Charles’ brown eyes narrowed when he saw Bri surveying Amadeus. He quipped, “I see you like Germans, Brigid.”
Bri laughed. “As pleasant as you are, Charles. I believe my husband and I will go to our own booth now. He did pay good money for it, after all.”
She squeezed Orion’s hand and he stood, apparently agreeing. If he had not, he would contradict her. Sometimes he did, as he was not one to follow blindly, something Bri admired in him. But he was also submissive when he agreed with a thing. And right now their private booth sounded good. They would reunite with their friends later.
Charles watched with an annoyed expression as they left. Bri sensed he would follow and leave Amadeus alone. Perhaps then, the three of them could discuss things. But the overture was coming to an end and Bri doubted there would be time to discuss anything at all.
Orion gestured again, allowing Bri to sit first. She stared up at him when she was seated and tugged his hand affectionately. He sat beside her and they shared a quick kiss.
“No snogging during the overture,” came Charles’ snide voice.
They met with his mocking gaze as he seated himself to Orion’s left. Bri rolled her eyes at the sailor. At least he was not unappealing like Lawrence. He was more the type Orion should be with, physically. There was always something delicate about Charles’ face, as though he were sad beneath the difficult mask he wore. Bri knew that about two years prior, Charles and Lucy’s daughter Adelaide had gone missing. She guessed the missing child would have something to do with Charles’ melancholy.
Now he was smiling at Orion, genuinely it seemed. “I apologize for Amadeus. He is a family friend and we try to include him in our outings. He enjoys solitude at times. It shows in his response when I speak to him.”
“Perhaps your conversation does not stimulate him,” Orion’s deep voice contrasted Charles’ both in softness and depth.
Charles crooned, “Is someone critical of my conversational skills?”
“Not at all, Arteberry. I find you very engaging, when you choose to be.”
The two men exchanged mocking looks as the music stopped and all went silent. Bri wrapped her arm around her husband’s arm and rested her head on his shoulder.
As the opera opened and the singers demanded attention, all was peaceful. However, Bri was quickly lost to the plotline.
“Muffin,” she whispered. “Did you grab a program?”
“No, love. I’m sorry.”
Charles rolled his eyes, “Orion, your wife’s whisper is louder than her speaking voice!”
“I’m right here, Mr. Arteberry! If you have a complaint, you can direct it toward me.”
“Ah, but you are sitting way over there.”
“Children,” Orion spoke up softly, “Let’s be polite…”
With that Bri and Charles simmered down. However, Bri dwelt on Charles’ little insult. He had always been such a heel, but why could he not be upfront about it with her as he was with everyone else? Why could he not be a heel to her face? It had always been so, even when Bri was Stephen’s wife.
Stephen, your wife laughs like a man.
Bri was fuming when she heard Charles mumble something about a solo a little soprano had did. Something about it being “subtle.” Of course, he was being sarcastic. Bri rolled her eyes and whispered loudly “Orion, you’re right. Your lover doesn’t care for most things!”
“Orion, your wife is ‘whispering’ again,” Charles shot back.
“If you have complaints, I’m right here!” Bri exclaimed.
“She sounds quite angry, my lord! Did you bring her medicine?”
“Medicine! I don’t have medicine, you twat!”
“Brigid!” Orion looked at her.
By now, their voices were raised and someone pulled their curtain aside and thrust their head in. “Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
The three of them shut their mouths. Orion looked at his shoes, Bri folded her arms to pout and Charles grinned at both of them triumphantly.
Bri seethed as she stared at him, wanting to smack the smirk off his face. The thought that he had ever touched her innocent Orion made her stomach turn.
“You are a mite,” she hissed in a whisper. “A nasty, snarky little blood-sucking mite!”
Charles snorted and said nothing. He seemed quite proud to be insulted.
“Brigid, love, please…” Orion begged her for silence.
Surely someone would complain to them again if they kept arguing. But now Bri could not focus on the opera. She lifted her opera-glasses to view the performers better, but her mind was still elsewhere.
When she heard Charles mumble one more thing, she lost her temper.
“You be quiet, you! And don’t touch my husband!”
With that, Orion stood, threw back the side curtain and stepped out. Bri and Charles watched him before Bri felt her heart sink. She dropped the opera glasses and hurried after him down the stairs.
“Muffin!” she yelled. “Muffin! I’m sorry!”
He was not turning back around. He was returning to the booth with Amadeus, escaping Bri and Charles.
When she caught up with him, he was about to duck into the booth. All eyes in the audience were following them as the opera players continued valiantly on with their performance.
“I’m sorry, Rion! Come back.”
“Do not follow me, Brigid.”
“But—“
“You embarrass me. Argue with him but do it without me,” he spoke to her with a sideways glance, cold.
Then he disappeared into the booth with Amadeus. Bri hung her head and progressed back up the steps in shame. Eyes were still on her. When she returned to the booth with Charles, he was no longer grinning. Like her, he seemed shaken by Orion’s departure.
By the time Lucy appeared on the stage to sing her sad song, Bri and Charles had whispered their apologies. At the short intermission, she asked, “How long do you think he will be angry at me?”
“Hell hath no wrath like an insecure earl, my dear. But you know the bugger better than I…though if I remember correctly, he has a big heart.”
Bri had detected a hint of real sadness in Charles when Lucy was singing. Perhaps he was not completely without sentiment.
“I am going to run to the booth and apologize to him…”
“You had better run fast, my lady.”
“How long do I have?”
“Not long. The intermission is as long as your patience.”
She took the jibe in stride and then stood, ready to scurry to Orion to apologize.
© 2011 Luz Briar.

Draining the Humor (4)-two men

4-two men

When Orion received a letter from Charles Arteberry, he was frankly afraid to open it.
“What’s wrong?” Bri asked, putting her arms around his neck.
He was in his office chair, and she pressed behind him to see the letter.
“O. Charles wrote to you?”
Bri snatched the letter up.
“I’m not enthusiastic about reading it, love.”
“Want me to read it to you?”
“Perhaps you should not—“
Before he could stop his wife, she had torn open the envelope and pulled out the parchment.
“Ahem,” she cleared her throat, “Dear Orion, your lovely wife Brigid has spoken to Lucy about a few things and Lucy suggests I head over to your estate and fuck you, because you’re tense. But my dear friend, I know how prudish you can be so I’m not going to take a bloody long trip to your estate just to have you say ‘No, sleep in the guest room while I attempt to bugger my wife so we can have a cute little infant to be the fourth earl of Constance.” Also, on that topic, if your wife is finding it hard to make you hard, perhaps she should stick her fingers in your asshole while you Try to bugger her. It has been known to work for those less-strict Sodomites. In any case, send word for me and I will be over to bugger you in the ass. Or the face. It’s your choice, my lord. Your wife can join in if she wants. Love, Charles. PS—You may want to burn this letter, my lord. What with the county already talking about how you are going to Hell and all that. To the fire place! C.”
Bri dropped the note and stared off into space. Orion was covering his face.
“He’s eloquent, isn’t he, Muffin?”
Orion snatched the letter from Bri and began to tear it up slowly. “Yes. He is quite a poet. He always has been. You know I fall for that type.”
When he tossed the scraps away he set his head on the desk.
He was not sure what it was about arrogance that made him listen. His history of lovers were not friendly, and he doubted this would ever change. Perhaps that was another reason he wanted it to end.
Bri frowned at Orion. “I was only trying to help…you just seem so miserable since you made that stupid vow.”
“Brigid,” he straightened up and looked at her, recalling how gentle she was in bed, even as she took charge.
Such men did not exist.
“I am tired. Let’s just let it rest…”
The butler’s appearance in the office doorway made them jump.
“Mr. Lawrence Dunne is here, my lord and lady.”
Orion and Bri exchanged looks. Bri visibly began grinding her teeth.
“That ugly worm is here! No! Not after how he treated you!”
“He might want to apologize, love.”
“And then what? Will you take him back?”
Orion stared, unable to speak. He simply stood and glided from the room, leaving his wife behind.
Downstairs, he spotted Lawrence in the parlor at the piano. He held his tongue for now. His indignation was below the surface, and for now he did not want to show Lawrence how wounded he truly was by his treatment.
“Dunne,” he offered his hand, making eye contact. “To what do I owe this presence?”
“To congratulate you, Orion. How is the marriage?” spoke Lawrence, lighter than his usual tone.
“Very blissful. Thank you for asking. Would you like tea?”
A strange sound reverberated from upstairs. It was high and then deep, imitating the vocals of a mule or a donkey. Instantly, Orion covered his face and Lawrence peered upstairs with lowered eyebrows.
“What in the—“
“My wife,” Orion gestured. “Being asinine. Ignore her.”
“I am only here for a moment, Orion. I simply wanted to say—“
Brigid’s donkey sounds echoed out again, interrupting Lawrence. Orion looked away, shutting his eyes tight.
“What is she doing?”
When Orion looked back at Lawrence, he had to stifle a laugh. His teeth were rather prominent, and Bri’s joke came back to mind.
“What is so funny?”
“Nothing, Lawrence, nothing.”
“Well, I’ll be leaving. This is between you and I, not your wife.”“It’s between you and your hand! Orion thought. He controlled his temper, as usual.
Lawrence mentioning Bri had been the breaking point. He had no right to speak of her in such a way.
“Orion, I came to apologize.”
“I’m not interested in your apology. You have no idea what manners or common courtesy are. Perhaps if I was treated with some dignity, perhaps if you had attended the wedding as a friend, then…Please leave or I will have you escorted out.”
When Lawrence left in a huff, Orion rushed upstairs and found Bri in her private chamber spinning at the loom.
“You are such a child,” he announced.
“Is that why you laughed?”
He smiled despite himself. “I told him to leave.”
“Good. You don’t need his humbug apology.”
Orion came to sit beside her, pulling up a stool. “Why did you tell Lucy, Bri?”
“Because I love you and I hate to see you so miserable. I know you and Charles have a history. I thought…it could relieve tension.”
He ran a hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Darling, don’t worry about me…”
© 2011 Luz Briar.

Draining the Humor (3)

3- asking a favor

When Orion Hookwell asked for solitude, Bri knew better than to question him further. Her husband was the type to retreat into himself at times but he always emerged better for it. She had also attempted in the past to pull him out of his introversions but found it more harmful than good.
Knowing Orion was like knowing two people in one. One side of him was seductive, confidant and elegant. He was cold but he had a fine sense of humor and did things even against popular opinion. The other side was sweet, innocent and almost fragile. He was emotional and sensitive, but resilient and impossible to keep down.
When Orion told her that he would need a day or two to think, she nodded in understanding and answered a call their distant neighbor Lucy had left her.
Bri had the carriage transport her to Lucy’s estate early in the evening.
The heiress’ sailor husband was away, so Bri expected to be greeted by the mistress of the house alone. When she found Lucy, she was at the piano with a large man. He was playing as she sang, her high soprano hitting notes like bells.
She spotted Bri first and she trailed off in her song, the operatically trained voice fading out with power. “Amadeus! Darling, my company is here!”
The muscular man turned in the piano chair to survey Bri. He had blue eyes and strong, chiseled features. His hair was a dark blonde and his manner imposing. Bri’s uncontrolled laugh greeted him. She had no idea who he was, and he certainly was not Lucy’s husband.
Lucy embraced her shorter friendly tightly, “How has it been? The marriage I mean…”
Bri was happy to share details with Lucy but she was still unsure how much the woman truly wanted to know. This was the friend who had leant the ‘love potion’ after all, and seemed to know of Orion’s preference. Furthermore, rumors of the Arteberrys were so widespread that they had a reputation as “hidden deviants.” Bri suspected the large, speechless man Amadeus was a lover of Lucy’s.
“It’s such a beautiful day outside, why don’t we have a picnic!” the soprano offered Bri.
Bri’s laugh erupted out of nerves this time. She was not sure if she could keep up with this prettier woman’s energy. When they had their food, they headed beneath a tree where they set up to eat. Lucy was radiant as she had been at the wedding several weeks ago, stealing attention away from the bride every so often. Her red hair was in a bun and her dress was a blue that matched her eyes.
“Mrs. Arteberry,” Bri asked, when she had finished her second roll. “How did you know about Orion’s…unique, eh, condition?”
Lucy finished chewing and then set back a bit, eyes closed in thought.
“My husband told me.”
“Mr. Arteberry knows?” Bri’s eyes widened.
She recalled Charles Arteberry at the wedding. The man who had made advances on both the bride and groom! It had not shocked Bri. Charles was her former brother-in-law, by the viscount Stephen Arteberry. Charles had been just as blatant in his flirtations with Bri in front of his brother as he had been behind his back. Never did Bri recall him mentioning Orion in the past.
“He does know him. But Charles hears many things, Lady Hookwell. He is a sailor after all.”
Bri kept her mouth shut. Charles was the connection between them, after all. Bri’s former brother-in-law and Lucy’s husband. She had trouble deciding who was open to secrets and who was not. Polite society was such a pain.
“He is truly a beautiful person,” was all Bri could say of her husband. “I hope you do not think less of him.”
Lucy’s eyes widened and her voice became shrill, “Think less of him! Why would I? We all love whom we love, dear.”
“So…you are not going to say bad things of him?”
“Why would I, Brigid! He is angelic. Absolutely lovely company!”
Bri was glad to hear her first name from Lucy’s mouth. Perhaps they could drop the formalities now.
Bri sighed in relief. “Oh thank god, Lucy!” she let the tension drain. “I thought you would not understand.”
Lucy rolled her eyes, “We all have our deviances, dear. Or ten, in Charles’ case.”
They laughed quickly at the absent sailor’s expense.
Bri had to ask. “How did Charles find out? Was it the usual gossip in these parts or…”
Lucy bit her lip and looked up into the tree. She was watching a squirrel run about in circles.
“You will have to ask them, I’m afraid. Although I recall…no! I should not tell you that.”
Bri’s eyes were large now. How could she not press for further details?
“The reason I ask…” she looked down at her hands and considered her words, for once. She had the penchant for blurting, but today she would try to behave for Orion’s sake. “I ask because I have noticed distress in my husband. His last man, well, he has passed judgment on Orion for wedding me. He has cut him off. Orion needs…well, he needs something I cannot give him.”
Lucy set her slice of bread down and stopped spreading the marmalade. She became serious, a strange sight for one so full of vibrancy. “He needs a lover?”
Bri nodded. A silence passed in which she laughed. “I figure I should find him one because he is being stubborn. He thinks he can go without it.”
Lucy let out a high laugh and swiped away a tear. “I am trying to imagine Charles saying such a thing,” she explained. “That will be a sign of the end times!”
Bri joined in the laughter. “My muffin is an idealist. He is trying to prove something. Does Charles fancy him? He seemed to at the wedding.”
In fact, she remembered at the reception seeing Charles squeeze Orion’s shoulder once and whisper something in his ear. By Orion’s expression alone, it seemed they had a secret.
Lucy blushed slightly but it cooled and she answered plainly, “Yes. But, Bri, everyone fancies Orion. He is positively adorable.”
Bri agreed, “I know he is. How well do they know each other?”
“They are…acquainted.” Lucy answered. She went back to preparing her snack. “I will ask Charles about it. We should all meet again, perhaps for an outing. You and your husband, and Charles and I. Yes?”
“Here’s to that!” Bri held up her teacup.
© 2011 Luz Briar.

story: Draining the Humor (2)

2- Finding comfort

Three weeks from their wedding, and Orion felt ravaged by his wife. In a good way.
He was tired but he had an excuse to go to bed early and he enjoyed the exhaustion she pushed on him. His only complaint was the tension in his back, seemingly unrelated to the marriage. Brigid Salud had been more than the best choice for a spouse, she was the object of Orion’s deepest affections.
That is why he was so puzzled at the pain in his back. He called on the local doctor for advice and was met instead with some scathing remarks.
“Perhaps you should take a break in the weeks following your honeymoon.”
“A break from what exactly, doctor?” Orion asked, seated in his arm chair. His back was bothering him again. “I don’t do heavy lifting of any sort.”
“From heavy lifting?” the doctor grunted. “Yes, a break from heavy lifting.”
Orion narrowed his eyes at the man. He could not comprehend the amount of disdain people often channeled in his direction. He had never wronged any of the people of Constance, and yet his melodramatic teen years haunted him still.
Sodomy. Transvestite. How I loathe the words.
“For your records, doctor,” Orion spoke up, protecting himself with a layer of coldness. “I have not been heavy lifting and nor have I lifted anything heavy in a while. Assumptions are the twin of ignorance.”
Nor did Orion see how ‘heavy lifting,’ as the doctor called it, would have to do with his back.
“What is wrong with my back, doctor?”
“Tension then,” the older man spoke quickly. “It is tension. It is best to relax for a while. Perhaps you have overstressed yourself.”
“I have been on honeymoon for the past two weeks. What would I be stressed about?”
“That is for you to answer,” the doctor’s tone dropped again, condescending.
“I believe then, I must nip it in the bud and find out the cause.”
“That would be best.”
“Very well.”
“Good.”
Orion hit a bell on the desk, causing the doctor to jump.
His apathy towards medical men sometimes swayed into disgust and right now he did not wish to see the man. The butler appeared at the office door and Orion told him, “Please show the good doctor out.”
He did not even wish to escort the man out. He took a seat back at his desk as he recovered from the doctor’s accusations. He returned to his paperwork but was unable to follow his own strain of thought. As he set the quill back to paper, Bri’s laugh made him jump.
“The doctor was useless, wasn’t he?” she laughed.
He collected himself. “Quite useless. Most of them are…”
“Oh dear. What did he say?” she leaned over him, her face next to his.
“Essentially he accused me of being unfaithful to you and of being a sinful, dirty sodomite.”
“Oh,” she frowned. “Darling, there’s nothing sinful and dirty about you.”
He put his face in his hands and allowed himself to sigh loudly. He felt his wife’s hand in his hair and it calmed him a bit. “I have kept my vow.”
“I know, darling. But there is no need to. I know you love me. I have my own theories about your tension.”
“Enlighten me,” he told her.
To most, it would have sounded cold and sarcastic. But Bri knew Orion and his odd ways of communicating. He was sincere when he asked her opinion.
“You are trying far too hard to prove yourself to be something you are not.”
He thought this over. The shadow of his late father loomed over him daily. The “mad earl,” the deviant and the lunatic. His own youth added to the weight of what it seemed he must disprove. He knew that Bri was making a valid point.
“In any case, Brigid,” he cleared his throat. “Even if I had not made the vow, Lawrence has moved to London and—“
“Bloody Lawrence!” Bri spat.
Her unconscious laugh exploded and she removed the warmth of her body from him. She began to pace.
“Really, Rion! Lawrence! He is bloody ugly and unpleasant!”
Orion righted himself and watched her calmly. He felt the serpent of indignation uncoiling in his stomach, but for now he was quiet. He would allow her to ramble and rant about his former lover.
“You could have any man you want, Orion! And you choose Lawrence! The bugger is worse than me! His teeth try to escape his face! He is mean-spirited and ugly. He is a donkey!”
“Brigid—“
“A Donkey, Orion! A donkey!”
“That’s quite enough!” he stood and pushed the desk chair in.
He was remaining quiet by an act of will. This was a fresh wound and he did not feel up to inspecting it right this moment.
Bri hung her head, her large eyes full of guilt. “I’m sorry…I just don’t like him. He talks to you as if you are an idiot. And you could have any man you want.”
He did not want to dwell on it.
You have chosen the SAFE path, is what Lawrence had told Orion when he asked his lover, in person, to attend the wedding. Lawrence had sneered at him and cut off all contact.
Orion rushed to the privacy of his own bedchamber and locked the door. Bri knew better than to follow right away. He wanted the silence.
“The safe path…” he breathed, leaned against the door. “Sodomite. Safe path.”
The dualities struck him like dissonance on a harpsichord. Either he was a filthy degenerate or he was the coward.
**
An hour passed and Orion felt ready to speak to others again. His momentary melancholy usually lasted and hour or so, sometimes a day, and on bad times up to weeks.
Today, he was fortunate.
He immerged outside for fresh air and found Bri seated at the pond, feeding the swans. Her favorite drake, Muffin, was seated beside her like a loyal dog. His mate Crumpet was waddling about with her gaggle of babies. One of them Bri had in her lap.
When she noticed Orion, her brow was furrowed, “His wing is hurt, Orion. Look at it. It is crooked.”
The funny-looking baby animal stared up at Orion. He knelt down beside his wife. “Mini Muffin…perhaps he needs a cast. We have books in the library about animal care. I have heard their wings can heal.”
“It looks deformed.”
Muffin nipped at Bri’s ear, as if grateful. Orion stroked the birds head softly. “Do not fret, Bri. We will make him comfortable…”
(A/N: Comment/Response PLEASE. i have no way of thanking you if you remain anonymous!)
©2011 Luz Briar.

short story: Draining the Humor (1)

1- Trying for an heir

Brigid shed her second wedding gown more eagerly.
The first husband, a stuffy viscount, had been comely enough, but he had the boorish habit of snoring after consummation. Not to mention, all the passion of a rooster.
But Bri was assured that her second husband, the 3^rd Earl of Constance, would be different. The young earl had energy and passion to spare, much as he tried to hide both.
“Are you ready to bugger, Muffin?” she called from behind the changing screen. She checked her reflection, a plain woman made lovely by her white undergarments. She was no great beauty, but her body was attractive and her eyes large and doe-like.
The ceremony had been as strange as they were, and afterwards their family friends the Arteberrys had pulled Brigid aside. Lucinda Arteberry had given Bri a “love potion,” just in case he does not rise to the occasion. Bri had thanked her friend but told her she doubted they would need the potion.
“I prefer something less vulgar, darling,” Orion’s voice called to her. “Bugger is a rough word.”
“Very well. Are you ready to make love?” Bri laughed, slipping off her skirt.
When she appeared before him in her undergarments, Orion’s eyes widened. She took a seat beside him on the bed and they linked hands.
“You look wonderful, Bri. Better than in the gown,” Orion told her, his soft baritone whispering.
“Why don’t you undress for me too, Muffin?” she asked, kissing him chastely. “Please.”
He looked down, green eyes a bit nervous but he undressed with no hesitation. They were both down to their underwear and Bri sat on his lap now, grabbing a hand and guiding it to her half-exposed breasts. For a moment, Orion seemed transfixed, as he massaged them. Bri was loosening her own corset, too eager to stay dressed. Suddenly, Orion was helping her unlace with ease.
“Hm, have you had practice with this?” she teased him.
“On my own corset,” he stopped himself.
Bri’s laugh bubbled up. She knew of Orion’s ‘Reanna’ disguise and thought it was very amusing. She also thought her husband made a fair lady. He was thin but slightly muscled, with light hair and moss green eyes. His smile was gorgeous and many women envied Bri passionately.
Bri turned around now that her breasts were exposed, and she ran a hand through Orion’s hair before she kissed him with some force. He gave in and returned the kiss with vigor. They were aiming for an heir, so Bri would do everything in her power to rouse her husband. She was reaching the end of her childbearing years, after all. They needed to act quickly.
**
They both lay breathless in bed afterwards, kissing and clinging to one another.
“Brigid,” Orion panted. “I want to live up to m wedding vows…I want you to know this.”
“Muffin, I know you love me. There’s no need to—“
“No, darling. The last thing you need is a repeat of your last marriage—“
“I think a repeat would be hard to reproduce. You would not be able to divorce me for a—“
“Please, Brigid,” he grabbed her hand. “Believe me. I will lay with no other but you.”
“Lovey-Muffin—“
Orion pulled Bri to him. She was instantly lulling off in his strong, gentle embrace.
“Because I prefer gentlemen you think I cannot keep my vow…” he whispered with a tinge of sadness.
“I doubt that you should keep that particular vow, Muffin…”
Bri felt that they may have succeeded tonight, so she let the topic float away as she dozed in her husband’s arms.
She would ask him why exactly he would wish to stay faithful when his wife insisted it was not necessary. He was virtuous, she knew. But he had a lover up until recently and she had not minded sharing him in that way, knowing that emotionally he was all hers.
But at times she wondered what was spinning through his head.
(A/N: Leave feedback/responses/comments pretty please! Brand new story here.)
© 2011 Luz Briar. All Characters, Plotlines and Settings belong to the author!  Alright, I suppose I don’t own England or the Victorian era, but you know what I mean. Steal and I will come after you.

Mad Earl poem: Doctor’s Help

 

(A break from fiction. Here’s a poem.)

Doctor’s Help

You only meant to help

You extend your hand

My advise; withdraw it, my friend

Some have lost fingers this way.

You only meant to preach.

 

You tonic is

A weak arsenic

You hand it to your friends

To keep them your subjects…

 

You only meant to treat

Doctor, as you are

Your advise; stay ill, in need

Of your cabinet—

Yes, you only meant to bleed.

 

Your treatment is

Breakage of limbs

Severed feet and leeching

Patients, for your keeping.

 

Tell me your intentions are good;

I would rather rot than commend myself to you.

 

Your aid is pain

Spewed diagnosis based

On your ignorance

And your empty well-meaning head.

(A/N: the fifth poem in the Mad Earl poetry collection. )

© 2011 Luz Briar. All Rights Reserved.