Mary

"What are you talking about?" she asked and followed his gaze. "What is wrong?"

Mary felt William's strong hands rest on her hips and she nearly forgot the need to be quiet and yelped. Her entire body seemed on edge. She felt like an exposed nerve, and William came very close to touching it. "Tis you what seems to be out of place, William. You seem to change so from one moment to another. Tis like I know you but within a minute you are someone completely different. Someone I do not know and God forgive me, but perhaps I would not like to make an acquaintance with."

She felt William's hands squeeze at her hips tighter and she grabbed for his hands to remove them, yet when her skin touched his, she could not help but to simply caress it with gentle strokes, whether to pacify him or simply draw out the sweet memories from her childhood, she could not say.

"Ah," said William as his eyebrows arched. "You can thank our father for that, Mary. The ability to change as you say? Like a chameleon. He thrust me to the wolves, Mary, when I was but a child and there was nothing but to learn to survive and still keep my sanity. And I had to learn quickly." He said and as if suddenly tired, he let go of his sister and with a step of an old man found his way to the ottoman near the bookcase.

William patted the seat next to him, motioning Mary to join him in this little time of rest. "I had begged him, you see..." he continued and for a moment Mary was uncertain whether he was even truly aware of her presence or if he had been simply talking to himself, only out loud. "I had begged him a thousand times and more to allow you to come and stay with me, my sweet sister." He said, but his glance did not meet hers. He rested his head on the back of the ottoman, closed his eyes and for a moment Mary wondered if he was going to fall asleep. Surely he must have been exhausted from his trip.

"Did you?" she asked carefully, mindful not to speak too loud and attract attention from the accidental passers by, although the chair stuck under the knob reassured her that they would not be disturbed in these few stolen moments alone.

"Yes, indeed I have done so." William said, his eyes still closed. "I begged in my letters and later on, when he would visit me, sometimes I felt as if I had spent days simply crying and asking for you. T'was all for nothing, however. He never gave in, would not even allow me to come and visit you, nor for you to come and visit me in Italy."

Mary felt tender towards her brother and as was her habit when he was still a child, she gently brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. Her being burnt with the injustice that her father had done to them both and she had only come to realize it. William opened his eyes and looked at her. His dark eyes seemed to probe inside her and for a moment Mary felt compelled to stand up and flee the room.

"I was so very lonely, you know. I could not bear the thought of you being alone, as well. Although father reassured me that was not the case. He had told me of all your numerous admirers, he described the parties you've attended in great detail, and he had put my mind to rest, although my heart never ceased aching."

"But surely..." Mary could not have been more surprised by her brother's words. "Surely, you've lived your life in different courts in Europe. You have been the prodigy, still are, indeed..." despite all her words, she felt her heart bursting with delight, he had missed her. Missed terribly, indeed, and she immediately felt ashamed over her delight.

"Hah!" exclaimed William and pulled his head away from her hand. "The courts! What do you think they are, Mary? The courts. The glamour and the riches! The beauty of objects and the beauty of people! Is that what you think all that is? Is it?"

"I..." Mary was stunned. "I do not know, William. Is it?"

"No!" William almost yelled out. "No, Mary. No!" he stood up and nervously paced the room. "I mean, yes. It is that. It is the opulence and the beauty, but it is so much more, too, Mary. So much more and that is the ugly part of it. You do not see the ugliness hidden under the picturesque tapestries and beautiful garments. Under those beautiful faces, there are ugly minds. Ugly and twisted, plotting and scheming, waiting for every opportunity, no matter how small to ruin something that might be more beautiful or successful then they are. Tis a cruel, cruel world, my sister. And I was thrust into it without mercy. I had to learn quickly, without anybody's help but master Battista's, who he himself is no expert in the secrets of human mind and its deviance."

William inhaled deeply and took seat next to Mary again. This time, she noted, he sat closer to her than before. His thigh pressed against her leg and he twisted his body in such manner as to be facing her completely, almost shielding her from the light that shone through the windows.

"And then, my sweet Mary..." he said and she felt more than saw his face slowly come closer to her own. Closer and closer. She could hardly breathe. "Then, you stopped writing to me. It all but broke my heart..."

"But, I did not..." she tried to protest, but her wind was taken away from her. William gently pressed his lips against hers, and they were exactly like she had imagined they would be. Warm and soft, hungry yet careful as if afraid they might cause harm. She shuddered and tried to pull away, but he would not let her. His lips pressed on hers harder and she could feel his body leaning against hers, his hands now running through her hair, gently tugging at the little flowers that have been placed there with such gentle care by Margaret.

"No, William..." she finally tore herself from him. "No, tis not right..." she breathed heavily, her chest heaving as if she had just ran through the meadow.

"How can something so sweet and beautiful be wrong?" William asked and continued to kiss her. He brushed his lips against hers, kissed her eyelids one by one, found his way to her neck and softly sucked on it, all the while Mary felt as if she was going out of her mind with lust and desire.

"William, please..." she moaned and against her better judgment relaxed on the ottoman, dropping her hands to her side and allowing him to explore what was not restrained by the corset and heavy materials.

"Why are you not married, my sweet?" Mary heard William whisper under her ear. "Why?" his soft nibbles were driving her crazy, she felt the need to lie down and give herself to his gentle caressing, but thought the better of it. "I would have thought men were fighting for your attention."

"Father would not allow it." She gasped and ran the fingers of the hand that was not pinned under William's body through his rough hair. "I had to take care of Mother." She added, William even listened to her answers. "And then I grew older..."

"Ah, yes." William barked an ugly smile and Mary quickly sat up as she felt his hands releasing her trembling body. He stood up and for a moment Mary was certain he was ready to take her back to the ballroom. Her heart sank with disappointment. "What a great manipulator he is, our Father. Is he not?" he asked and to Mary's astonishment and almost terror she saw him take off his jacket and handle his trousers.

"What are you doing?" asked Mary. "William?"

In a flash, she found him back with her, this time kneeling in front of her, lifting her skirts high above her ankles and then knees. "Oh, no..." she gasped, this time truly frightened. "You should not..."

"Shush, little Mary..." William's voice sounded as if it was not his own, hoarse and weak. "Enjoy it, sweet. Just enjoy it." He said and Mary nearly screamed when she felt his warm fingers rubbing their way over her knees and inside her thighs towards the place, which so often throbbed and demanded that she touch it and press against it, exactly as William was doing now.

Mary squirmed and tried to stand up, but her skirts bulked up in her lap prevented her from moving about. She felt William's fingers on her underclothes, gently poking against her crotch, massaging it in an odd rhythm with which her entire body seemed to heave on the awkwardly narrow ottoman. She was astonished over her boldness to lift one of her booted legs and place it on her brother's shoulder. The audacity of the act surprised her and for a moment a wave of deep shame struck her and she could feel herself blushing, grateful for the darkness in the room, which prevented William to see her embarrassment.

William gently pushed her foot off his shoulder and Mary was afraid he might say something to embarrass her even more, only to realize in the next moment that he did so simply to be able to pull her underclothes off. "No..." she protested weakly. "No, William, no..." She was torn between giving herself to this gentle man willingly and fleeing from this almost impossible situation.

William said nothing. He continued to pull the soft silken drawers down her legs until she felt them gently caress her calves and reluctantly, she lifted her feet one by one, so that William could remove the underclothes completely.

She felt William's strong but gentle hands behind her knees and before she could protest or stiffen up as to prevent him from moving her, she was being pulled down, lowering her body onto the ottoman and then gently towards the floor, where she lay on the thick rug, by now unwilling and not able to protest any longer.

William lifted her dress up all the way, covering her torso with the rich silk of her skirts and then kneeling straight for a moment, she saw him undo his own pants and drop them to his knees. Through the feeble illumination of the moon rays, she could see her brother's silhouette, the outline of his strong buttocks and to her great embarrassment the shape of his manhood, erect and bigger than she'd anticipated that it would have been, not that she ever truly thought of that before.

She felt his strong hands grab onto her legs and pull them apart, in a way she had seen their maid Bessie's when she was giving birth and Mary had been snooping around, lingering outside the little birthing chamber when her mother was too busy with the screaming girl to keep track of her inquisitive daughter.

"Oh, Mary..." whispered William impatiently. "My sweet, sweet Mary..." he said and laid on top of her, his legs resting between hers, his manhood pressing against her crotch and stomach, the unfamiliar feeling mortifying, yet arousing. Despite herself Mary whined softly, the desire so strong that she did not care of what was about to take place. She might have been inexperienced in lovemaking, but she listened to her body and it had told her that this was what she had been waiting for, longing for, picturing yet not at all like it was about to happen.

She felt William shift and something press against the part of her that throbbed with anticipation. "William..." she gasped, aware that she had but seconds to change both of their minds, unwilling to even try.

"I often wondered..." whispered William and kissed her on the mouth. It was a deep and probing kiss, his tongue softly nudging hers, sucking on it, almost as if trying to suck out her breath. She felt his pelvis pressing against her, and what she took was his manhood pushing between her legs, forcing her to spread them even wider. "I wondered, my Mary..." continued William, all the while one of his hands firmly held onto the top of her head as if she was about to attempt to flee, while the other one was somewhere between their bodies, close to the place where they were about to join. "If anybody had taken you like this yet..." he said and she could feel the squeeze of his strong hand where it had been touching her head. At the same time, she felt the pressure between her legs increase. Of course she knew of the coupling, she had seen it often with dogs and horses, but this was new to her, despite of it all, she could not have pictured it quite like this. The pressure between her legs increased and she opened her mouth in a silent scream as the first burning pain struck inside her stomach. "I was crazed with jealousy, you see..." William continued. "Wondering if anybody had ever ridden you like this." She felt his body tense and push against her so hard, she nearly lost consciousness from the pain that he had caused her.

She let out a yelp, but William's hand covered her mouth and quenched the sound before it reached the pitch high enough to be heard from the outside. "I would lay away at night, my sweet..." he continued while his body tried to catch the rhythm, causing her to ache more than she believed she could have, save for the birth of a baby. "And think about how you would feel... your warm and soft cunt, sweeter than anything I have ever had..." he said and Mary felt herself blush over his crudeness, yet, it seemed that every word he had spoken only increased the fire inside her.

He rocked over her and she noticed his face was in a continuous frown, as if this was a part of hard labour. Her insides were burning painfully, and yet, she felt pleasure such as she had never felt before. There was the fulfilment that she had been seeking for so long, but never quite able to give herself. The hand that covered her mouth now rested next to her face, while the other one wildly explored her body, squeezing her breasts through the gentle silk of her dress and for a moment she was afraid he might be too rough and rip it up. At the next moment, she had completely forgotten her fears as he continued to whisper crudely, as if she was a common whore rather than an innocent who was being plunged into the unknown.

"So soft, my Mary..." he gasped. "So tight... Just as I thought you would be." His rhythm increased and Mary shut her eyes tight in an attempt not to yelp out in pain. "I drove myself crazy, my sweet... Thinking of some old bugger sticking you like this. Taking you all for himself. I could have killed him, Mary. God help me, but I could have..."

Mary had completely lost sense of time, and to her it seemed as if William had been on top of her for hours. His prick mercilessly banging against her insides, his body pressing against hers so heavily, she could hardly breathe.Who is he talking about? thought Mary and the realization that she managed a coherent thought in the time when her mind was a cacophony of lust, fear and downright terror, amused her somewhat.

"I wanted you all to myself, Mary. I wanted to be the first to push my prick inside you," he gasped and the grabbed onto both of her shoulders hard, kneeling up somewhat and releasing her body so that she could shift a bit and inhale deeply. "I wanted you to see me like this, my sweet..." he said and pushed inside her so hard she was certain she was about to lose her consciousness. "Crazed and full of lust, just for you..." he said and slammed against her hard. "Just you..." another hard push followed. "Just you, my sweet..." he said and this time he groaned loudly, his face an ugly mask of pleasure, while he kept himself deep inside her, squeezing her shoulders and she could feel the part of his that was causing her pain throbbing. He groaned again and eased himself out of her a bit, yet not releasing her completely.

"My sweet..." he said as he finally stopped and his body trembled against hers, not in the chill of the air, rather the intensity of physical pleasure. "Have I hurt you, my darling?" he asked and before she could answer, he bent down and kissed her on her lips. Gently and fully, like a lover that he had just become.

William pulled himself out of her and rolled over to the floor next to her, his chest heaving with exhaustion. She sat up and looked at him, at his strong body, and his manhood now shrivelled after their lovemaking. An odd sight, yet a beautiful one, she thought.

"We have to go back." She hated herself for being so level-headed. "They will miss us." She said, yet her heart was so full of love it felt as if it was about to burst."

"Yes..." whispered William and she thought she could hear disappointment in his voice. "Come." He stood up quickly and rearranged his clothes. "Let us make you presentable. I am afraid we might have ruined your dress somewhat." He said and smiled. "We can always tell them we went for a walk in the bushes at the end of the garden. Surely, nobody would suspect..." he said and a naughty wink in his eye made Mary grin back at him.

William had helped her up and smoothed her skirts gently, serving as a support while she hastily pulled her underclothes up, feeling the ooze of something warm and sticky slowly run down her skin. Mary was afraid her legs would not support her as she walked back into the ballroom. Her belly was still on fire.

"Is this it?" she asked William and her boldness although embarrassing seemed to her completely natural. Exactly as when they were children, asking each other questions they would not dare ask anyone else.

"No, my sweet." Answered William and took her in his arms. "There is so much more, yet it takes time for it to happen, I think. When the hurts ceases, the true enjoyment begins, you see." He said and Mary suddenly felt sad, for she was certain she would not be able to feel that joy with William. He was only here for a few days, too short of a period of time.

They returned to the ballroom, careful not to be spotted exiting the small library. Mary's heart sank when upon the entrance to the dancing chamber William immediately turned away from her and lavished his attention on a beautiful Jane Norton, a recently widowed wife of the court poet, who had been shamelessly flirting with every available man in the room.

"Where have you been?" Mary heard her father hiss in her ear. "I have been looking all over for you." Mary froze for a moment, trying to think of an excuse. "I was with William, Father." She finally said carefully. "We talked." Mary saw her father smirk. "We talked about my letters that he did not receive, Father." She said and Percy's smirk turned into a frown.

"You'd do better to keep your mouth shut, Mary." He said sternly and grabbed her forearm hard, pulling her after him to introduce her to people she did not want to meet.

* * *

The silence in the carriage on their way home was deafening to Mary. Her father's face was like a storm and he glared at her almost hatefully, she thought. William dozed off minutes after the gentle rocking of the coach began and she wished she could do the same. She closed her eyes only to feel someone tug at her dress and for a moment she forgot where she was.

She opened her eyes and to her chagrin realized it was her father who would not have allowed her to catch a few minutes of rest.

"Yes, Father?" she asked dutifully and glanced at William, who appeared to be asleep.

"Lord Hawthorne..." began her father, his face softening somewhat. "I have been thinking you'd be a good match for his son." He said and smiled at his daughter.

Mary felt her stomach tightening in fear. "No!" she exclaimed. She remembered a skinny and awkward young man, a year or two younger than herself, measuring her with his eyes, almost swallowing her with his glance, just like his father had before him, although he did not voice his opinions.

"Shush, Mary!" said her father and peered at William, satisfied that his son appeared too exhausted to be a part of this conversation. "Tis time for you to be married, girl. Soon you will be too old and it will be too hard to find anyone who would want you for a wife." He said rudely, evidently unconcerned with her own feelings.

"It would not have been too late had you not ran every one of my suitors away, Father." Said Mary icily, although in truth she did not mind it at all. Long ago she had accepted the fact that she was to stay at the Manor and look after their mother. She did not really mind it and moments of loneliness did not seem to weigh heavily on her. She had only just realized how truly happy she had been at home. "I need not marry." She said stubbornly.