Story 7
Morris Kilburn poured himself another shot of whiskey.
His hand shook as he lifted the small glass to his lips and downed the contents in one quick move.
Grey eyes watering a little, the thirty nine year old man sniffed and grasping the bottle firmly, he returned his attention to the other man in the room, his friend, sitting across the table with a look of concern on his face.
Never in their twenty year long friendship had Gaspar Dixon, MD, seen the mining magnate look so despondent.
Yes, they had shared many a drink together and regaled each other with their tall-tales, and emptied even more casks and bottles helping each other with their woes.
This time, however, the resolute miner had come to him with a dilemma that was actually quite serious in nature.
“Easy on the liquor, Morris.” Dixon smiled, licking his lips. “What you’re asking for is not strange, however irregular, for a man of my learned status.”
“Then you will do it, Gaspar?” His friend exhaled heavily. “You’re the only one I can trust with this, and you’re a man of medicine among other such arts.”
“For you, old friend, I can move mountains.” The doctor laughed softly. “Tell me more… of this predicament. What do you wish to have done, and how would you prefer I do it?”
“Yes, yes… that’s why I’ve been bolstering my courage with this marvelous liquid.” Kilburn smiled sheepishly, holding up the bottle of whiskey.
Dixon leaned forward, a sense of boyish excitement making his heart beat faster.
All Kilburn had told him so far was that he wanted his help with a conjugal problem, being newly married.
He knew the problem was with the young woman for he and his best friend had several adventurous moments with the fairer sex over the years and neither came out none the worse for wear.
He had seen the young mail ordered bride in question and she was a creature most divine.
Anything to do with her, Gaspar Dixon, MD, didn’t need to be asked, and he was more than eager to know the extent of Kilburn’s requirement of him in the matter.
“You know my bride is young, very young…” Kilburn stared into his drink.
“Yes, I believe she is about nineteen.” Dixon nodded, smiling.
“Yes, that makes her nearly half my age…” The other took a long sip. “And I do not wish to cause her any alarm.”
“In what manner?” The doctor eyed his friend cautiously.
“It has been a week and I am yet to consummate this union.” The miner almost cursed.
“Yes, you did mention that before…” Dixon shook his grey haired head. “And why not?”
“She… is a virgin; of course… she couldn’t be any thing less…” Kilburn smiled tightly. “And I have discovered, to my utter dismay, that she is unaware of the requirements of a married life and rather petrified of physical interactions… with a man.”
“Newly wed jitters.” Dixon rubbed his temples. “But a week is much too long,”
“Precisely.” The balding miner sat upright. “Every time I propose sex, she becomes stiff with fear and I cannot do anything further… I have never taken a woman against her will and am not going to start with one lawfully wed to me.”
“An unusual condition, though not never heard of.” The doctor scratched his chin. “And you wish me to alleviate her fears with a drug or narcotic to make her compliant, do you?”
“No, Gaspar…” Kilburn shook his head slowly and poured himself another glassful.
“I want her full conscious consent. You being a man of learning, I would expect you can educate her better than an unlearned miner like me can in… the ways of life and procreation. I only wedded a young woman like her to bear me sons, to have heirs to my legacy.”
“I understand, Morris.” His friend said encouragingly. “Fear not, I shall dedicate all my time to this… for you are my best friend.”
“That is why I am here, Gaspar.” Kilburn’s voice reflected his relief. “You are my only hope.”
“How shall we undertake this?” Dixon asked, leaning back on the chair. “Should I take up lodgings in your house for the duration…”
“No, that would impede your own business, old friend.” Kilburn smiled a little. “I will arrange for young Nicolette to stay with you for the week. Enough time to work your magic, I would hope.”
“And what of you?” The doctor poured himself a drink.
“I have to be away on a matter of business… to Allentown. The mines I own there are promising to yield more than I expected. A better part of the week I shall be needed there, come the morrow.”
“Oh, then I must prepare my guestroom for your blushing bride.” Dixon grinned, sipping his drink.
“And her maid, Greta.” Kilburn added as an afterthought.
“That could serve as an impediment to what I have in mind.” The doctor raised his eyebrows.
“How?” The miner looked confused.
“A young woman in her condition is best suited to think and learn by herself. Were she to have another of her gender close by to confide in, no matter the station, there is little hope of her being cured of the fears that plague her.”
“But surely another woman can bring her the…” Kilburn stared at his friend in wonder.
“Not in this matter, old friend.” Dixon laughed softly.
“Your young bride must endure my care by herself and come to terms with her inadequacies on her own… under my exclusive guidance. She needs to come at ease in the company of a man… another woman’s presence will deter or prolong the outcome as desired.”
“Yes, I do see the logic there now.” Kilburn smoothed down his dark, grey streaked moustache.
“Have no fear, Morris. I will take care of everything for you.” Dixon smiled and patted his friend’s broad shoulder.
“I spare no expense, old friend, this has to be done.” Kilburn nodded and emptied his drink.
“You can rely on me, Morris.”
“I always have, Gaspar.”
***
Gasper Dixon smiled as he recollected the conversation he had with his friend, the mining magnate Morris Kilburn only twenty four hours ago.
The horse drawn carriage approaching his door down the cobbled streets was brining to him the lovely prize that had unexpectedly fallen on his lap.
He stood tall, dressed in his Sunday best by the door, ready to greet the young Mrs. Nicolette Kilburn as the carriage came to halt.
He sucked in his breath at the sight of her.
A young woman in the prime of her youth, radiating beauty and health, her exquisite gown of pale cherry delineated every mouth-watering curve.
Dixon couldn’t help but envision her without the hindrance of her clothing as he reveled at the familiar sense of pleasure stirring down below.
“Allow me, my dear.” Dixon held up a gloved hand, smiling at the lovely young woman peering out of the opened door. “And welcome to my humble home.”
“Oh, you must be Doctor Gaspar Dixon.” She replied, her voice trembled a little as she took his hand. “My husband has asked me to… uh, to have you help me…”
“Yes, indeed, my dear.” Dixon contained his excitement with some effort. “But we can talk of such details inside. Come in, my servants will take your belongings to your room.”
“Oh, uh… thank you, Doctor.” She blushed and stepped out of the carriage.
“My pleasure.” He smiled and ushered her into his home that also served as his office. “And please, no need to be formal. Call me Gaspar.”
“Oh, uh… but surely… your title…”
“Ah, titles and stations are meant for formalities and for business.” Dixon laughed, slipping a hand across the small of her back and noting the stiffness coming over her. “No such need amongst friends, and Morris and I have been friends since before you were born.”
“I s-s-see…” She stammered, clearly unaccustomed to a man’s touch. “I must… I mean… I need some time…”
“But of course.” He smiled, removing his hand. “We have all the time we need. A week should suffice quite adequately, don’t you think?”
“I… yes, yes… it should.” She avoided his intense stare.
Dixon felt like leaping for joy. She was the loveliest thing he had ever seen and he wondered how the gruff old fool, Kilburn, managed to find such a beauty through the mail order bride service.
The old miner must have paid quite a tidy sum for her.
He looked her over in admiration. Her soft features brought out the innocence that she had inside.
Dark hair framing a perfect heart shaped face, eyes as blue as a serene pool and lips, full and red, moist and inviting, drove a rapid beat of passion into his heart.
He would enjoy this week to come, just by beholding her in his eyes.
“What shall we do, Doc… uh… Gaspar?” Nicolette gave him a brief glance and looked away at the wall before her.
“Firstly, you must make yourself at home.” He offered. “And then we will begin your induction into a life of marriage.”
“Uh, yes, certainly.” She looked around in uncertainty as she sat on the large chair that served as his examination couch.
“You do know why you are here, don’t you?” He asked, taking the seat opposite her.
“Yes, I... I do.” She stared at the carpeted floor.
“So tell me why you are here?” He asked, resisting the urge touch her chin and lift her head.
“Uh, my husband…” She began slowly, still staring hard into the ground.
“Morris.” He interjected.
“Huh?” She looked up wide eyed.
“Let us be less formal.” He smiled at her, losing himself in those soft pools of blue.
“Yes… yes… my hu… Morris has asked me to be tutored by you in the ways… the ways of…”
“Yes, go on.” He leaned closer.
“I am rather embarrassed, Doctor.” She covered her face in her small hands.
“No need to be, Nicolette.” He said soothingly. “Please continue.”
“Yes, I… Morris wishes that I learn the ways of a woman and a man after marriage… that I may be of the service required… that I may make him happy by… bearing him…”
“Very good.” He decided to alleviate her discomfort. “But let us not look upon marriage as a transaction, or a service either party need perform… even if there was an exchange of monetary value for this betrothal.”
“Uh… yes, my parents were in need of… I decided I could help them with…” She had a look of anguish in her lovely face.
“Very noble of you, my dear.” Dixon encouraged the agonized girl. “And that is why you are here with me.”