Epilogue
St Laurence’s Church, Warborough, Oxfordshire
“And there’s where my mother is,” said Thea, gesturing to the headstone that marked the place in the churchyard where they had buried Eleanor and her unborn babe. “Let’s go say hello.”
Phineas toddled after his older sister, thoroughly captivated by everything she did and said. When she placed her hand on the carving of an angel, he copied her and repeated select words from Thea’s memorized biography of the woman she’d only known for the briefest time.
“When you mentioned traveling abroad to bring your first wife’s remains home, I’ll admit that I had my doubts,” said Mr. Quartermaine, the village vicar, looking on at the chattering children in the churchyard when he came to stand next to Erasmus.
“I wondered if I’d pushed you too hard and fast into your current marriage.
Worried that you might cling to the past and forget to enjoy the present. ”
Erasmus leveled him a wry look.
“I see I was wrong,” said Mr. Quartermaine, shaking his hand. “Congratulations are in order.”
Beside him, Amy glowed with good health, her lovely winter cloak hiding the blossoming midsection that caused more than one parishioner to mist up with delight. The Mangevileyns were not only clearly in love; they were expecting a new baby.
“And how are you faring, my dear? Not too sick?” asked Mrs. Quartermaine, the vicar’s wife. She looked between the married couple with a sense of pride, vastly pleased that her meddling had paid dividends.
“Only in the mornings,” said Amy, unable to contain her excitement. “And only on some days. The baby is being a good little lass or fellow, and he doesn’t trouble me too much.” She rested her hand atop the cloaked swell that had given their household great joy already.
“Perhaps a girl this time?” asked Mrs. Quartermaine, her eyebrows raising and lowering as she prattled good-naturedly.
“Oh, but we already have one of each,” said Amy, patting her swollen belly. “Maybe a sheep or goat just to even the score.”
Mrs. Quartermaine burst into laughter and wished the expectant parents well before wandering off to greet a pensioner who assisted with the organ on Sundays.
“I fear your big news is the talk of the churchyard today, Mrs. Mangevileyn,” her husband said when they had a break between well-wishers.
“I rather think it’s our big news, Mr. Mangevileyn. After all, you had a rather big role in the project.”
“Rather big, am I?” he asked under his breath, turning a sly eye on his wife.
“Mama! Phineas tried to bite the angel wings!”
“Oh dear,” said Erasmus, heading off to collect his much too curious son.
Theodosia halted just before Amy, always mindful of the growing bump and careful not to jostle it.
She rested her head and hand against the swell as if to hear if her new sibling had anything to say yet; she was impatiently waiting for Phin to begin his Latin and Greek studies and hoped this baby would emerge knowing both already.
“How do you find the baby today?” asked Amy, stroking her daughter’s hair affectionately.
“Already has more sense than Phin,” said Thea grumpily, not pleased at her little brother’s tendency to stick anything and everything in his mouth.
“Well, your papa is going to have to talk to Phineas on the way home about that. We can’t have him eating Christmas crackers, can we?”
***
After tucking both children into their beds, reading stories, and placing new toys within reach, Erasmus closed the door to the bedroom.
“Are you sure you don’t need help?” she asked, turning on the bench at her toilette to see him. Her dressing gown opened most provocatively in the front, revealing her growing belly.
A belly with a red bow tied around it.
Erasmus’s eyes widened, and then he barked a laugh, hastening to cover his mouth so he might not rouse the children and servants. They’d discussed gifts between their household and child-rearing responsibilities and had forgone giving each other presents.
When Erasmus jokingly suggested that he’d be happy with a bow on his wife’s nude body, he never imagined she’d do just that.
But how he’d wished. They’d been busy that autumn and into the holidays, collapsing into bed to trade whispered stories about their days and what the children and livestock had gotten up to.
It was lovely and domestic, and now Erasmus was hard with a sudden want of something more carnal from his beautiful wife.
“You got me a present?” he asked, coming up beside her to run his fingers over the ribbon. “I thought we weren’t going to.”
“You said the same thing,” she said, raising her eyebrow and fingering the triple strand of pearls he’d given her in bed that morning between kisses.
“You can’t fault a man for wanting to see his cherished wife properly adorned,” he said, touching her skin beneath the ribbon.
“You can untie me.”
“I don’t think I will,” he said. “I’d rather see that bow on your beautiful belly when you ride my cock.”
“Oh, Mr. Mangevileyn! Such words!” she exclaimed before jumping from her seat to make her way to the bed.
***
“Amy, you torture me,” said Erasmus, lying back on the bed as his wife slowly moved on his cock.
She rocked her hips just as he’d taught her, closing her eyes as she directed his shaft over the parts that made her ache with pleasure. She cradled her full breasts, now devoid of milk, imagining how good it would feel for her husband to suck from her again after the baby came.
“Tilt back a little. I want to see where you’re taking me,” he said, holding her sides as she sat back and tilted her hips to let him see his cock splitting her cunny.
Erasmus stroked over the places they were joined, earning breathy exhalations.
“You took me so well this year, my love,” he said, shifting a hand to the growing belly that so enchanted him. “Took my seed like a good girl, didn’t you? Saved it all up and made me a baby?”
The bow on her stomach trembled as the first tremors of paroxysm made her shiver. “Yes, Daddy,” she moaned.
“That’s right, you’re making me a papa again, aren’t you, Amy?”
She whimpered as he thumbed her navel suggestively. And bounced harder on his shaft.
“And no matter how many babies you give me, you’re always going to be my good girl. You’ll take your daddy’s seed, let it fill this pretty belly of mine.”
“Yes, yes,” she gasped, rocking faster to create the friction that satisfied her needy channel.
“And these?” he asked, moving his hands to her breasts. “We’ll keep these beauties filled, won’t we? You’ll be the most beautiful, bounteous mama on the entire farm.”
Being compared to the heifers and ewes should have put Amy off the conversation, but she secretly loved it.
And had confessed as much during one of their late-night conversations as her husband used his fingers to bring her pleasure.
She might grow round and lush, and her gentleman farmer husband would only look on her with pride.
“You’ve been such a giving girl, taking my cock like this,” he said while running the backs of his fingers over her furred mound. “Now, I mean to give you something back.”
This was her favorite part — the culmination of their words and bodies meeting. The climax she’d never imagined she could have.
“That’s it, take me deep,” he grunted, using one hand to help Amy direct her hips and the other to stroke the nub exposed by her puffy lips and his planted cock.
She felt his touch both in the spot he stroked and within, causing her to squeeze around him. He was solid within her channel, a delicious ache blooming between her thighs as she stretched for him once again.
“God, Amy, I’ll fill you up.”
His rough words broke the last tethers, and she hopped in her husband’s lap, riding his shaft through the ecstasy that had her crying out in surprise — despite his pleasure being no surprise by now.
He was thick and jerking, his seed pouring into her as spasms worked his cock from root to tip. Her nipples were sensitive, and when her braid brushed over one, her back shivered, overwhelmed.
“You’ll take every bit of me,” Erasmus groaned, thrusting up into her with the last of his bounty.
When Amy’s back bowed forward, Erasmus lifted carefully to give her a kiss before turning them so they could lie down while facing each other. He’d withdrawn his shaft, then used his fingers to press his spend inside, as he’d done for months until Amy had fallen pregnant.
“You needn’t do that now that we’ve a baby on the way,” she said drowsily.
He kissed her again. “I want to be close to you, my love. And within you might be as close as close gets.”
She wiggled contentedly and felt her husband in her channel.
“It’s difficult to argue with your logic,” she said. “Is this to be our Christmas tradition? Lovemaking?”
“I should think so,” said Erasmus, pulling her near. “I think so, my love.”
THE END