0 comments/ 6579 views/ 0 favorites The Jester By: Lady_Kieffer Along the bumpy dirt road, a carriage sat with it's wheel askew. The driver worked tediously until he finally manage to work it off it's axis. Part of the wheel was fractured from it's merciless travel down the forsaken path. The driver glance up and noticed a thin, brown headed man dressed in black pants, and a colorful shirt walking toward him. He didn't appear to be a threat to his mistress in the carriage, so he continued working the wheel until it was lying flat in front of him. He had no idea what he could possibly do to restore such a mess, so that his lady would arrive at her destination on time. He was grateful at least that she was still snoozing comfortable inside rather than outside viewing this terrible tragedy. "Hello there! I see your having some difficulty." The thin man had walked up to the driver, and was evaluating the damaged wheel. "Yeah, it's beyond redemption at this point. My mistress will not be pleased when she hears this." The driver looked down heartedly at the pieces of medal and wood. "Is your mistress of importance?" The thin man nodded toward the carriage, and watched as the driver stood up. "Why do you ask young man, and who are you?" The driver stared hard at the man with mistrust. "I'm a simple jester my man. I've been commissioned by the Castle Hallstead to perform for his majesty's court. I've been without my horse for a day now due to theft, but plan to purchase a new stud after I've been paid my handsome fee." The jester danced and jig, and bowed before the driver. "My dear man, may I save the day by informing you that there is a simple cottage nearby. I've been to this castle on more than one occasion, and know this road well. The people who own it work a farm, and both are kind and friendly. If I may be allowed to escort you and your fair maiden there, it would provide your mistress a place to stay while you send for another carriage, or new wheel?" The driver looked at the carriage as though considering the idea. He let his breath out after holding it for so long. "I guess we'd better ask her ladyship." He knocked on the carriage door, and was surprised to see it immediately open. "Jules, have we arrived?" A beautiful blond petite woman stepped down from the carriage, and both men moved to bow before her. She looked down at the wheel sitting on the ground, "Oh, I see we are without a wheel. Oh dear. I'm late as it is. Jules what are we to do?" The driver quickly piped up, "Miss, I know it's an inconvenience, but I've been informed of a nearby cottage and friendly tenants. This man has been telling me that he is to be the new jester for the Castle Hallstead, and would gladly escort us to safety. I may have to leave you in said company until I'm able to arrange a return carriage from the castle. Would that be acceptable miss?" The driver looked hopeful as she released a sign of relieve. "Yes, I suppose that would be best." She turned to the thin jester and noticed that he stood watching her intensity. "Kind sir, may I know your name?" The jester bowed once more revealing his name. "My fair lady, my name is Trace. I've from Ridgeport originally, and would be most honored if I were allowed to escort you and your fine driver to my friend's cottage. I know they would be most pleased to be of assistance to such a beautiful mistress, such as yourself." He watched as a blush creped up her cheeks. "I hope they will not find me an imposition as you say. We've no choice but to ask and see. I am Lady Marianne from Cornwell. Lead on my fellow man, and make haste. It's growing dusk soon." She turned to gather her small traveling bag, and handed it to the driver to carry. He quickly fell in step behind them as the jester walked with her in arm, down the dirt road. As they traveled, the woman took the time to peer up at the thin, but somewhat dashing young man. His hair was shoulder length and wavy which fell whimsically about the top of his head. They arrived at the meager house after a good thirty minute walk. They didn't even have to approach the door before it was jerked open and a hefty woman in a white dress and plain brown apron ran to greet them. She immediately hugged Trace around the neck and yipped in excitement. "Oh you naughty boy! It's been such a long time since you've graced us with your presence. I was just telling George the other day how I wished you'd return, and here you are! Oh come inside, I've just finished supper, and pies for dessert. Come along everyone." Trace laughed as she pulled him inside the house. "My dear Margaret, I've missed you too, and I've especially missed those wonderful biscuits you make. I wish to introduce you to my newly acquainted friends, Lady Marianne of Cornwell, and her dutiful driver Jules. Everyone, this is Margaret Finch, and I assume her husband George is around here somewhere?" He looked around the house for the tall burly man, but didn't seem to spot him, so he glanced at Margaret in confusion. "Oh Trace, he's out in the barn working on something or another. He's been trying to get out of fixing my cabinet doors. I've worn them out feeding the man. Why don't you two run out and get him, and I'll show this young lady where she can freshen up. She's looking quite pink from being out in the sun." The men went back out the door toward the barn behind the house, and Margaret guided Lady Marianne into the spare bedroom, where a basin and pitcher sat. She pulled one of the drawers open and laid out a washcloth, and some talc powder. "Here you go. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. I'm afraid I don't have a dress that would fit you, but tonight before bedtime if you like, I can wash yours and dry it in the morn." "I am so pleased with your hospitality as it is Madame, I couldn't impose on you for anything more. The dress will be fine, but I do appreciate the offer. Thank you ever so much." She reached over and hugged Margaret around the neck and then gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm disappointed that our carriage was broken down, but I'm so happy that I was allowed the opportunity to make your acquaintance." Margaret patted her on the arm with a large grin upon her face, "Oh dear, you do my old heart good child, to hear you say such sweet things. You are most welcome, and will always be greeted with open arms if ever the opportunity or mood strikes you to visit again. I am glad for the company. It gets lonely here with just George and me, and the old coot doesn't talk much. I'll leave you be so you can freshen up now. You come to the kitchen for a hot meal when you've finished. I'll have it all ready for you." She closed the door behind her, and Marianne was secretly wishing she had a mother like Margaret. Her own mother was cold and distant, as was her father. The servants were more of her family than her own parents had been. Life wasn't all bad growing up since most of the servant dote on her, but she really wished that she wasn't forced to be what she was, and that was a dutiful daughter sent far away to greet a man she was force to marry. Jules admitted to her as much that if she truly was unhappy with the match, he would assist her in fleeing. He loved her dearly, and would be heart broken if she were to wed man of no morals or kindness, since clearly her own father only cared for his own happiness and gain. Back in the barn, Trace greeted George and was welcomed in much the same way his wife had. The big man picked Trace up in a bear hug and wasn't the least bit concerned how it appeared to the gentleman standing behind him. "Glad to see you lad! The misses has been hoping you'd return. She loves hearing your stories." Trace laughed heartily, "Are you sure it's just her that likes my stories? I recalled on my last visit you kept me up well into the night just so I could finish the tale about the princess and the peasant." The burly man blushed slightly before punching the tiny man in the arm. "You need not remind me of that young man in front of our guest here." He turned to Jules and greeted him with a heavy handshake. The three discussed their dilemma with the carriage wheel, and it was settled that Jules would ride early in the morning toward the castle on George's mare Penny, and would send a carriage to retrieve Jules ward. All the while George and Trace would walk back to get the wheel and George would work on fixing it. "I've got all the materials in the barn to patch it up with. Just you leave it to me, and I'll have that carriage back together in no time." Jules offered to pay him for the services, but George shook his head. "Won't be a problem my man. I help all those in need when they need it. We are all Gods children, and I won't have him thinking bad of me. Now let us be off to supper, I've worked up an appetite." They feasted on Margaret's meal until they were all full to satisfaction. Trace was finishing up on his third slice of pie, and Marianne watch in awe as George ate a whole one for himself. She found herself falling in love with the large farmer who had gushed over her fair beauty upon introduction. He sat there smiling at her across the table sharing a story about his children in their youth. She giggled as he told her a tale about him first meeting Margaret. She was chasing a pig which ran toward him, knocking him off his feet causing him to fall face forward in mud. Margaret had laughed so hard at the site, he became angry enough to tackle her into the mud as well. As she sat spattering curses at him, he found himself falling in love with the feisty woman. He said it was tasting her cooking for the first time that forced him into marrying her though. Her father was so pleased at the union at the time, he offered the same pig as a wedding feast. Margaret piped up and admitting she was thrilled the kill the horrible beast since she had been chasing the stupid pig for two years. It apparently was smart enough to keep escaping it's pen, and it was her job to keep retrieving the ugly beast. Since it had fatten over that years, it was getting harder and harder to catch. Once dinner was completed, the elderly couple laid out blankets for the two men, and once Margaret saw Marianne safely to her room, the two disappeared into their bedroom at the back of the cottage. Trace starred at the door where Marianne slept, and pondered if the lady was always so sweet and gentle. He settled into his blanket near the fire, and question Jules about her. He could tell Jules thought the world of the lady as he sat there and ran over the list of her qualities in pride. He became sad when he informed Trace how he wished his lady would be happy in her future marriage, and was worried that the match had been made without consideration of Marianne's feelings or well being. Trace promised to keep an eye out for her since servants weren't allowed near court. Jules fell a sleep with hope that his new friend would aid in protecting his lovely charge against any wrong doings. Marianne sat in her bed, too energetic to sleep. Her long nap on the road had fully charged her, and she became bored after several minutes. She had taken off her filthy dress afraid it would dirty the lovely blankets that Margaret had on the bed. She had let her hair down and was using her fingers to release the tangles. The room she was in was very small and humble. Only the table where the basin sat, and a nightstand near the bed furnished the room. The window had heavy drapes hanging from it blocking all the moonlight out, and she wasn't sure how to push them aside to stay. She began to feel closed in, and knowing that two men slept just outside her door, she was prevented from escaping. She wished she had thought enough to bring a novel to read, or even her stitching would be a pleasure at this point. After an hour or so, she gathered the courage to peak outside. She could hear Jules snoring loudly, but Trace wasn't anywhere to be seen. Curiosity got the better of her, and she wrapped her cloak over her under garments and went off in search of him. She didn't have to search far. As she walked into the kitchen, she tripped on him sitting in the floor staring out the window at the beautiful full moon. He grabbed her before she hit the ground, and pulled her up against him. "Are you okay my lady? I'm sorry I tripped you. I'm sitting here admiring the view, but why are you out of bed?" His face was so close, she noticed that his eyes twinkled in the moonlight, and found herself starring. "I'm fine really, and I'm sorry I disturbed you. I'm just not sleepy and was feeling a little caged in." She didn't draw away even though she was laying on top of him in such an uncomfortable position. He certainly didn't mind that her weight was pressing into him. She stared in wonder into his eyes, and finally said, "You have stars in your eyes sir. I can see them twinkling at me." She could feel his chest moving as he chuckled. "My dear lady, I'll capture a few and placed them in your own eyes if you wish?" She smiled faintly and gave into the pressure of arching her back, and leaned into him. She rested her head on his shoulders, and turned slightly to ease her weight off of him. He pulled her tighter, and settled his arms around her. They sat in silence for what seemed a lifetime while he stroke her hair. She nearly dosed off a few times, but refused to move out of the comfort of his warm arms. Trace couldn't believe the lady was allowing herself to be held in such a manner. He caught himself holding his breath afraid that even an exhale would release the spell this enchantress had upon him. "I'm glad for small miracles of broken carriages," she muttered into his shirt. "I wasn't overly excited to arrive at the castle today since it holds a most unbearable future for me. I was glad to have such a pleasant distraction from the whole affair. Thank you for saving me." A pain shot through his heart at the words of her distress. He wanted to make her laugh again, but the time to do that wasn't now. Laughing meant breaking the contact, and he wasn't about to disturb that. He vowed to watch out for her, for he most certainly had fallen deeply in love with her gentle soul. "I believe I must get up for my legs have gone quite numb." She pulled back from him and went up on her knees beside him. He reluctantly let her go, but still didn't move from his position on the floor. She sat on her bottom and tucked her legs under her lifting the cloak and adjusting it around her. He couldn't help but notice a flash of skin as she positioned herself beside him. He could feel himself grow hard at the thought of her without a dress on under that cloak. He crossed his legs trying to hide his secret arousal. Even though it was dark, the length was standing at attention inside his pants. They sat and quietly chatted for hours. Neither wanted the night to end, because in the morning it meant she would have to leave him. "I'm curious how you became a jester. What motivated you to do it?" He laughed as he confessed that he really wasn't good for anything else. "I'm too thin and gawky to lift anything heavy to be a blacksmith or farmer, too intelligent and arrogant to be a servant in a household, and I can't really sing or play an instrument. All I have is my charm and wit. With a great imagination to boot, I sell myself to whomever wishes to be entertain by my stories and jokes. I travel to different places, and meet lots of people. They serve as my muse. I wouldn't be happy to just settle in one place for long since it's the people and stories I hear when I travel that make me so appealing." She considered this, and begged him to tell her one of his stories. He proceeded to tell her about the princess and peasant, the same story that had George begging for more. She sat in silence listening to him talk. She found his voice to be sexy and relaxing all in the same aspect. She leaned toward him in order to hear him better as his voice lowered during the tale. He had dropped his voice into a bare whisper, and found that she had leaned so close to him that their noses were almost touching. When he felt her breath on his lips, he stopped talking and gazed into her eyes. The moonlight had shifted directly behind her, and it formed a halo around her head. She was so beautiful. "What happen next?" She whispered back. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly and answered her. "She kissed him." He watch the expression on her face as she digested this information. She seemed to be battling with something. He jumped when she moved to meet his lips with hers unexpectedly. They barely touched his, but she held it there softly and then moved to pull back. He wasn't about to let her go without tasting more of her sweet lips, so he leaned forward and pressed his lips back into hers. He gently rocked them back and forth over hers. She simply sat still and let him, but before long, she was answering his kiss in return. He groaned deep in his throat and traced his tongue along her bottom lip. She gasped in delight and he took the opportunity to dip his tongue into her honey flavored mouth and started drinking from it. She couldn't help the warmth flowing in her veins as he assaulted her lips with his. She never wanted it to stop. Alas, he finally pulled back only to travel his kisses down her neck. She leaned back to allow him access. When she did, her cloak fell open, and gave him more skin to taste. She felt his fingers circle her waste and tighten, then felt him lift her and settled her across his lap once more. She felt his fingers travel up her waste to settle on the opening of her cloak which he proceeded to pull open exposing her pale flesh. His lips never left her as he muttered, "Oh my lady, you taste of honey, and feel like silk. I want to touch your softness. Please?" She reached up and grabbed his hands and pressed them to her. "Yes my sweet Jester. Please do." He slid his hands down her front and cupped her small breast in his palms. She groaned in response, and pressed into him. He tested the nipples with his thumbs, and was surprised to find them hard and tight. He pulled down the material covering her, and sucked one of the perky tips into his mouth. She gasped loudly and moved back as the touch seem to burn her skin. He didn't let go and held on with his teeth. The heat between her legs was unbearable. The folds of cloth were being soaked with her juices. He let his hands find the moistness and became so aroused that he could feel his erection pressing hard against her leg making it difficult to sit there. He stood up quickly and pulled her to her feet. She had difficulty standing, so he swept her up into his arms, and carried her into her room. He sat her onto the bed, but reality kicked in, and he immediately stepped back. He kept on moving toward the door, but stopped in the entrance. "I can't let this go further my love. You are a flower that is meant to be picked by someone else. I can't shame you no matter how much I want to bury myself in your welcoming arms. You must understand how much I love you. I promise to protect you my fair maiden against all who wish you harm, and that includes myself." He turned and quietly closed the door behind him. She sat there with tears in her eyes wishing that she were anybody else. She'd gladly give herself to this man if she wasn't already promise to another. She took off her cloak and wrapped herself under the covers with tears rolling down her cheeks, praying for another miracle. When morning finally came, Marianne made use of the water in the basin to clean up, and grimaced as she struggled back into her soiled dress. She found Margaret in the kitchen pulling out a pan of freshly baked biscuits. "Oh there you are my dear. Did you sleep well?" Marianne nodded. Her mouth began to water as she sat down at the table. Margaret spooned warm applesauce into a bowl, and tossed a couple of hot biscuit onto a plate and set it in front of her. She poured a large glass of milk for them both. She sat down beside Marianne with her serving, and pushed a tub of butter toward her. "Eat up!" The Jester God it was so good. The biscuit's melted in her mouth, and the spices in the applesauce were wonderful. She felt so unladylike as she shoveled in the delightful meal. "Where is everyone?" Margaret swallowed, and gulped down some milk before answering. "Well Jules took off early this morning on our mare toward the castle. He should be arriving there soon. Trace and George went back to get your luggage and the wheel. You should be able to change out of that dress before the carriage from the castle arrives to get you. We didn't want you to be embarrassed arriving in a mess, not that you don't look breathtaking as you are dear." Marianne smiled at the older woman deeply fond of her, and sad that she would be leaving her company. As Margaret had predicted, Trace and George arrived back with her things and the carriage wheel in tow, leaving her time to wash up and dress in a more suitable dress for her presentation at the castle. Trace had slicked back his hair, and had it pulled into a ponytail in back. With his hair out of his face, she could better admire his handsome face. Jules arrived with a large black carriage accompanied by a valet and driver. They loaded up her things, and with a long goodbye and plenty of hugs and praises for all the wonderful hospitality, she, her sweet jester, and Jules set off once again toward her grave future. Upon arrival, she was quickly ushered from the carriage and into the library where she was presented to her future husband. She was struck with grief as she stared at the eighty something fat and balding man sitting before her. So this was the Duke of Hallstead. Instead of concern, she was greeted with criticism and chaste for arrival late, even though he was clearly informed of her carriage incident. She felt nothing but disgust and repulsion for the man, and excused herself claiming she had a headache from lack of sleep from the trip. He waved her out as though he could care less, and she was allowed to retire to her room. She fell upon the bed in tears and wishing she were back with the Finches. She was awoken a couple of hours later by a knock on her door. She opened it to see Trace standing there glancing down the halls for fear of getting caught near her room. He pushed her inside closing the door quickly, then locking it behind him. "Oh sweetheart, I feel greatly for you. I've met the old codger. This won't do at all. We've got to get you away from here." He sweep her up into arms while she began crying once more. "Oh Trace, if I run away they will surely find me. I'll disgrace my parents. They lock me a tower never to be seen again. I don't know what's worse, that or marriage to him!" Her body shook with despair. "Love, we'll find a way. I promise." He heard her belly growl as he held her. "When was the last time you ate?" She shook her head and answered, "Not since this morning, but I'm not hungry. I wish I were dead." "Shhh, love, we'll fix this, but first you must eat something. It might make you feel better." She nodded as the idea popped into her head. "Yes, I'll eat. I'll eat so much that I'll get fat, then he'll leave me alone." Trace snickered at her reasoning. "Marianne, you could be 200 lbs and growing, and you'd still be desirable. Come on, the halls have empty since the knight are all outside dueling with one another. Even the ladies are watching the competitions." They snuck down to the kitchen where sure enough, it sat empty. A large kettle rested in the fireplace boiling it's contents, and pastries and pies of all kinds filled the long table. There were maid's dresses hanging on wall mount near the hearth drying. Trace grabbed a plate and filled it with the tasty pastries, and sat Marianne down to feed her. She bit into one, and quickly polished it off. It was delicious. As they ate in silence, Trace was looking around keeping an eye out for the kitchen staff. He began fabricating a plan to assist her in escaping her doom without risking the embarrassment of actually running from it. Just as he stood up, one of the kitchen maids enter the kitchen carrying an empty tray. "Oh sorry miss! I didn't see you here. We've been outside serving food to the guest as they watch the competitions. I'll load my tray and be off in a flash." She went about her task glancing up shyly at Trace. "My name is Beth by the way. The duke told me this evening that you are without a maid and suggest that I serve you during your stay. I hope that will be acceptable to you?" Marianne was about to agree, when she was interrupted by Trace. "Your ladyship has a maid already Beth, she was just delayed in the trip. She caught a terrible cold, and we left her behind with the carriage at the Finch's cottage. She'll be joining her mistress tonight." He looked over at Marianne, and mouthed "Trust me." when the maid turned toward her to get a confirmation to his story. "Why yes Beth, my maid Florence will arrive shortly I'm sure. Thanks for your kind offer, but she'll see to my needs." The maid bowed quickly and replied. "Yes my lady. Still if she still feels unwell, feel free to ring for me." She smiled shyly at us both, then turned with her tray full of goodies, and headed back outside. Trace quickly leaped up grabbing a cap, and one of the maid's dress and smock from the hook on the wall, wrapping it in bundle and shoving inside his pants pulling his bagging shirt to cover the bulge. He then reached over and picked up a sack of sugar from the table, open it and pour part of it into the steaming kettle of soup. He retied the end, and shoved it into his pants as well. Marianne sat starring all the while, shaking her head as he grabbed her hand and ushered her back up the stairs and into her chambers once more. "Why did you tell the maid that my maid would be arriving soon. I don't have a maid, nor know anyone who will pretend to be one for me." He grinned broadly and pulled his stolen goods from his pants. "Do you possibly have an extra corset?" She nodded and went to retrieve it. She watched as he pulled his shirt off, then took the bad of sugar and divided it's contents into halves. He then twisted it in the middle forming two perfect spheres. He held the bundle up to his chest and motion for her to strap the corset around him. She pinned the round masses against his chest, and tightened it around him. He was thin enough for it to fit. He then pulled the maid's dress over his head, and pulled his hair out of it's hold and plopped the cap on top of his head. He squeaked out a feminine voice, and said, "Hi miss, I'm sorry I was so late. That darn cold has made my voice so hoarse hasn't it. I plan to serve and care for you miss." She couldn't hold it in any longer. She let out a whooping laugh that racked her body. Her laughter was music to his ears and couldn't help but giggle still in his female voice, "Oh you think I look funny do you?" She gasped in a deep breath she was laughing so hard. "Yes! Oh god, you look ridicules." She stood in front of him, and couldn't help herself. She reached up and fondled his fake breast. "I'm so jealous now, you've bigger breast than me." He put his hands on both hips, and acted insulted. "Ha ha. Make fun of my womanly features, and see if I care. He turned and stomped off toward the closet." She dropped to the floor in a fit of giggles, rolling around while she held her belly. Trace peered into her closet down at her shoes. He tried on a pair, but they were way too small. "Hmm. I've got some searching to do." He pulled his cap off, and pulled the dress back over his head. He stood over Marianne while she laid on the floor still chuckling up at him. He was captivated by the site of her twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks. She needed to laugh more often, and he would be happy to give her that. He stretched a hand down to pull her to her feet, and she immediate wrapped her arms around him. "I love you Trace, but you'll never pull this off." He grinned down at her. "Watch me." He leaned over and gave her lips a quick kiss before bundling up his maid outfit and headed out the door. She didn't see him again until later that night. She was escorted to dinner by her soon to be husband's son Maverick. He had knocked on her door making the demand that if she wasn't dressed in five minutes, he would take it upon himself to dress her himself. Thankfully, she was dressed and ready before he knocked. She brushed pass him as she walked out into the hall only to have him grab her arm probably leaving a bruise. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Punctual little tart aren't you?" He leered down at her, and steered her to face him. She turned her head from him, so she wouldn't have to watch him jeering at her. "Hello Mommy. My I have the pleasure of a kiss?" He forced her head toward his, and grinded his lips down on hers. He smelled of wet dog, and his breath wasn't much better. She tore her mouth away, and gasped, "Unhand me you fiend! I'll not be manhandled by you and no one else. Lease you wish to die today my lord?" He grinned and roughly pulled her along beside him as he guided them to dinner. Upon entering, everyone had turned to stare at them. She spotted Trace sitting on the right of Duke, and noticed that he was frowning at them. Maverick pulled her forward causing her to lose her balance. He didn't bother to stop, but simply dragged her back up to her feet as they headed toward their table. Trace stood up in fury, as did the Duke. "Why do you manhandle my lovely bride to be, Maverick? Do you not see you are hurting her?" He glared at his son, and quickly stepped down to pull Marianne away. She was relieved to see at least the Duke wouldn't allow her to be abused. "Sorry father, but she was taking too long. From now on, send someone else to fetch her. I've better things to do." He blew a kiss at Marianne and then turned to take his seat at the end of the table. The Duke turned toward her, "My dear, when you are called for dinner, you must make haste. I'll not tolerate dilly dallying." Even though the Duke's grip wasn't as painful as his son's, he still used force to pull her along to be seated beside him. She glared up at the Duke. "For your information sir, I wasn't dilly dallying! I was dressed and ready only to be manhandled by that horrid man, and then you just assumed that I was the one being rude when you yourself showed me the same treatment! I must insist on an apology from you." She was rubbing her sore arm as she sat there in anger. The Duke looked at her, and then waved his hand. "I apologize to no woman. You best be holding your tongue chit. I'm not beneath cutting it off. I would never mar that pretty face, but I'm not against teaching you your place. You don't need a tongue to make babies now do you?" He grabbed her chin and once more she was forced to endure the harsh treatment of yet another horrible kiss. Tears were now running down her cheeks as she submitted to the kiss. Shouts and whistle sounded out from several onlookers. He finally let her go, and she sat back into her chair with a thud. She used the back of her hand to wipe off her mouth, and groaned as blood smeared across her hands from the cut in her lips. She looked up to see Trace staring at her with a look of murder in his eyes. She thought he was mad at her upon first glance, but noticed that he then turned to the Duke, and began to stand up. She caught his eyes, and immediately started shaking her head back and forth. Trace saw the concern in her eyes, and sat back down slowly trying to control the rage that was boiling within him. She mouth the words, "I'm okay." She reached up and pulled her napkin from the table to hold it to her bleeding lip and applied pressure. She had lost her appetite, so she just sat there stewing in her thoughts. She was not marrying this ass. She would rather die than be caught in his marriage bed. After everyone had finished their meals, it was time for Trace's performance. He stood on one of the empty tables, and began telling jokes. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. He wanted nothing more than to steal his beautiful Marianne away, and escape this place. Everyone was laughing hard, the Duke especially. He kept pounding the table while he roared with it. Marianne couldn't help cracking a smile as well. She shouldn't feel like laughing, but Trace turned her glum into glee. Once the show was over, she excused herself from the table, and headed back to her safe room. She locked the door behind her, and went to treat her wounds. She was about to crawl into bed when she heard a knock on her door. "Miss Marianne, it's me, Florence. I'm here to prepare you for bed miss." She looked at the door with wonder. Florence? It couldn't be? She pulled open the door to reveal a tall lanky maid with curly brown hair and a devilish smile. "Trace? Oh god!" She burst into giggles, and couldn't stop. He rolled his eyes, and pushed her back inside, closing he door behind him. "Stop that! We've got to have a serious talk Marianne. Get yourself together!" She nodded, and sobered up. "I'm sorry, Trace. I can't help but laugh. You look so funny, but your right. We have to figure a way to get me out of here. I can't marry that man, and did you see his horrible son?" She shivered at the mental picture of what he might do to her. Trace wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close. "You're right. You can't stay here. I can't let him hurt you again." He felt her tears against his neck and he pulled her even closer. "Sweetheart, don't cry. We'll think of something." "I know, but you are so sweet to care about me. Very few people have." She leaned back and took his head into her hands and kissed him. He gentle returned the kiss, but felt her wince as he brushed against the sore on her bottom lip. He stared hard down at her now. "I'll kill him." She simply smiled up at him. "That's not the answer. You'll only be killed in return, and I very much need you alive my dear man. I'm in love with you, and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you no matter what happens. Please say you feel the same?" He hugged her back to him and whispered into her ear, "Oh yes, my love. I'll always promise to love and honor you, and protect you forever and ever. Until my very last breath leaves my body will I cherish you." She was crying again, but it was for the great happiness she felt inside of her. "I'm glad, but now we must think of way for that future to be possible. The Duke means to have me, and if I escape, he and my father will tear this country apart to find us. We wouldn't get far, and they would kill you for sure, and there's no telling what they would do to me afterwards." They sat on the bed holding each other. "I think I might have a plan, but it's risky. Short of killing him, maybe we can turn his lovely son against him. He is set to inherit a mass fortune, maybe with a little aid of a saucy maid, we'll be able to end your marriage as soon as it starts." She looked up at him with confusion. "What maid?" When realization dawned on her, she giggled a little. "You?" She shook her head, "What are you going to do?" He leaned back as the idea seemed even more appealing than before. "You'll see. Just trust me." Once he had gotten her to sleep, he snuck out of her room, and back into his down the hall not realizing he was being watched. The next morning, still dressed as a maid, Trace entered her room, and was surprised to see Marianne up and dressed already. She was to be married this afternoon, and worry was etched on her face. "Hey sweetheart, how are you doing?" She walked into his arms with fresh tears on her cheeks. "Oh Trace! Do I have to go through with this? Why doesn't that ghastly man just leave me alone. I hate my father for ever allowing this marriage to take place. I received word this morning that they don't even intend to attend. What am I going to do?" She was sobbing heavily, and still Trace held her. He didn't say anything to reassure her, but she knew that he would do everything to help her. ********************************************* The afternoon arrived quickly, and everyone had gathered in the gardens which had been turned into a makeshift chapel. Beth was serving as her bridesmaid, and Jules was allowed to give her away in her fathers stead. Her gown was beautifully designed by her own hand with beads and artificial flowers. It would have been a wonderful wedding had it not been for the brides sad eyes and frown. Jules whispered in her ear, "Oh mistress, you look absolutely beautiful. If it wasn't for that hateful man up there, I'd be so proud to give you away." She kissed his cheek, and held on to him for dear life as they strolled up the isle. During the ceremony, she kept looking around hoping that Trace would show up and steal her away, but he never came, and she never saw him. Once the kiss came, and her marriage was final, tears started to fall from her blue eyes. Beth lead her to her new chambers, and prepared her for her marriage bed. "It's going to be alright miss. I have it on good authority that the Duke doesn't get hard enough to do much damage. In his old age, he's lucky if he's able to piss, much less full fill his marriage vows. Don't go worrying none. He'll be done and off in no time, and you'll be allowed to leave." Her words were somewhat reassuring, but still the thoughts of that old man touching her left her cold. Night fell, and still no Trace. She was beginning to lose hope. She sat in bed awaiting her destiny. The old codger finally entered the bed chamber. He had been drinking too much during the wedding feast, so he staggered into the room and collapsed onto the bed beside her. "Hello my beauty. Are you ready to play with me?" He fumbled with his robe, and finally was able to work the buttons free. He laid back against the pillows exposing his naked, frail body. "Come pet, climb on top of me and make me yours." She simply turned her head in disgust. "I'm afraid husband that if you want me, you'll just have to take me. I'm not going to do this willingly." The old man grunted, then rolled over to her. "If you insist, but I fear that if I cannot complete the task of breaking your maidenhood, I'll have to call upon my son to do the deed. The ton will expect to see the stains on the sheets in the morning before they will call you Duchess, my pet. Let's not keep them waiting, um?" He kissed her with wet lips, and she nearly threw up on him. He lifted her bed clothes, and touched her dry folds. "Not excited yet? Well, we'll do something about that shall we?" He crawled between her legs and positioned himself there with his head right at the heart of her. She looked down at him in panic. "What are you doing?" She felt his tongue close over her maidenhood, and without helping herself, she moaned. It felt so good. She had been pushing at his shoulders, but felt herself giving into the feeling and letting him kiss her there. He pushed her legs further apart so he could settle even more deeply into her. His tongue probed her entrance and soon her juices began to flow. She thought this feeling couldn't get any more pleasant, but she then felt him slid one of his fingers up inside her, touching her where she had never been touched before. Her bottom began to wiggle as the finger started to slide in and out. She found herself humping him, and grabbing his head to force him even closer. The pressure in her stomach began to build, and she felt like she was going to explode any moment now. Grabbing his head, she stuffed his face against her. "Oh! Don't stop! Don't stop!" She let out a yell that shocked even her, as her body racked with pleasure. After several minutes of holding him there, she slowly released his head. "That was wonderful! I didn't think...I mean, I never knew." She tried desperately to catch her breath, and wondered why he hadn't said anything. She glanced down at her lord, and quickly sat up. His head still laid on the bed, but his eyes were open, and his face was a deep blue color. He was deader than a doorknob. The Jester Her first thought was to scream, but she didn't want to be embarrassed. She would always be labeled the woman who suffocated her husband during...well, you know. She went to the door to look out, but outside stood one of the guards. He looked over at her when she cracked the door open. "May I help you mistress?" She cleared her throat, "Um, yes. I wish for my maid, Florence to be sent to me at once. I need assistance cleaning up my virgin blood. The Duke is resting, so we'll try not to disturb him." The guard nodded, and called for someone to fetch Florence, the Duchess's maid. She closed the door, and ran back to the bed. She turned the Duke over, and climbed on the bed to pull him up onto the pillows. She then covered him with the blankets, and rushed back to the door listening for any signs of footsteps. Finally she heard them, and moments later a soft knock and a girlish voice yelled, "Mistress Marianne, it's me. Open up!" Thank god he's here! She jerked open the door, and pulled him in. "What took you so long! I've been waiting for ages." She closed the door with more force than she intended, and noticed Trace quickly look over toward the bed. "Don't worry, he's sleeping like the dead, and I mean that literally." She pulled him further into the room to show him. "What happened?" Trace felt for the mans pulse, but looked up at her in shock. "Well...he came in, and started to...well, you know, but then he...well, he...Oh Trace! I've killed him." She ran into his arms. Her face was red, and tears were already falling. "Slow down, now tell me what did you do?" She shook her head, and looked up him with pitiful eyes. "I can't tell you. I think I might have suffocated him though." Trace suddenly got the picture, and couldn't help the laugh that escaped his lips. "Was he kissing you down there?" Trace pointed down at her legs, and she blushed profusely. "Oh, I see. Well, we know that he at least died happy." He grinned down at her, and she slapped him on the arm. "Trace! What am I to do? He told me before he died that the ton wouldn't be happy if they didn't see blood stains on the sheets, and his son would be required to do it. Help me please. I don't want to go through this with that jerk!" Trace slowly gathered her close. He knew what needed to be done. "Sweetheart, I'm going to have to make love to you. It's the only way. They think I'm a woman, so they'll never know that it wasn't him that took your virginity. We'll show them the sheets tomorrow, and pretend he died happily in his sleep." She looked up at him and nodded. "Okay." He leaned down and kissed her lips tenderly. He was already getting hard with the thoughts of being the one taking her virginity. Oh how God has blessed him today. He kissed her deeply until she was wildly returning it. He walked her over to the bed, and sat her at the edge. He kneeled in front of her, and pushed her legs apart. "Was this what he was doing to you?" He slid his tongue over her warm mound, and felt her shudder. "Yes. Oh, yes, please do it to me now." She reached up and guided his head back to her. He brushed his tongue up and down her slit, and took her clit into his mouth nibbling on it with his teeth. She locked her legs around him and arched her back with need. He feasted on her juices until she reached her climax again. This time, she was careful not to hold his head too close. He quickly removed his maid uniform, and moved her further up onto the bed very aware that a dead man lay only inches from them.Still, his need for her was overwhelming. He took her hand into his and brought it to his large member. She immediately encircled it into her hands in wonder. He was so thick and huge. "You be the one to bring me inside. I'll go at the pace you set for us. I don't want to hurt you, but please know this will hurt a little at first." She showed no fear as she brought him to her entrance. He slowly eased his way into her. The juices from her last orgasm allowed him to easily slide inside. When he had reached her maiden barrier, he stopped himself and held it there. She moaned with protest, and began to wiggle her hips back and forth. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to stay still. She finally couldn't take it anymore, and she positioned her feet on the bed and raised herself until she forced him to penetrate her. He groaned loudly, and she gasped as the barrier gave way. The pain was only for a second, but the pleasure was immediately followed. She felt him plunge deep inside her, filling her beyond her imagination. She lowered herself until she felt him withdraw out, then lifted her hips once more forcing him deeper still. "Please Trace, take me. This feels so good." He broke out of his trance, and pushed his cock even further in, then slowly moving it back out before thrusting in again. He began quickening his pace until he could feel his balls banging against her ass. She was grabbing his ass, aiding in the mating, lifting to meet each thrust. He met her gaze, and was nearly undone by the desire he saw there. She moaned and her breathing became more rapid. "Oh Trace, I think I'm going to explode again!" and she did. He felt her orgasm rock her body, and her pussy tighten and throb around him. He couldn't hold off any longer, so he let his seed spill inside of her as he continued pumping in and out. At last, Trace rolled off of her and landed right on top of the dead Duke. He was so sated that he didn't even care. He pulled her close, and tried to get himself together. They had a lot of planning to do before morning. After about two minutes of rest, he stretched and was startled when he felt something pointy in the side of his back. He sat up and looked down to see the dead man's penis sticking up under the covers. He muffed his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. When she sat up to see what he was startled over, she also noticed the "Stiffy." She giggled and grinned up at him. "Is that suppose to happen?" He just shook his head in wonder. Once they had a plan in place, he redressed and quickly left the room. She also put her clothes on, and climbed back into bed with the dead Duke. She couldn't help her curiosity, so she reached under the cover and stroked the dead man's penis. It was small, but hard as a rock and smooth to the touch. She reached over and kissed him on the cheek. "I know you're dead, and I'm not sorry you are...but thank you for what you did." Then she took a deep breath and screamed. *********************************************** Since under the law, a widower could inherit her husband's fortune, however, those who are vassals under the king, must have children to pass on their titles to. Since Malcolm is the first born, he inherited the castle and title, but he wasn't happy to lose the other properties to her. He began being extremely nice to her, but his motive was only too obvious. He wanted to marry her and reclaim her lands and money. "Trace, I need to get out of here. He is making me really uncomfortable. He refuses to allow me to leave, and he corners me every opportunity he gets. If you and Jules hadn't taken turns escorting me everywhere, he would have compromised me in some form or fashion. I can't stay!" She was pacing her chambers in worry. Trace sat on the bed still dressed in his maid uniform. The Jester had already staged his exit, and he was now able to become Florence full time. "I know sweetheart. I saw the look on his face at the Duke's wake. He's not going to make this easy. I just don't know how we will get out of the castle. He has locked the stables, and it's a good two day walk to get to the Finch's. I dare not seen Jules, or go myself for fear that he would harm you or force you to wed. We need to get a message to someone to come to our aid, but who? The Finch's can't help much, they answer to Malcolm, and I don't want them to lose their farm over this. Isn't there anyone who would help you?" She looked at him in frustration, "Yes, actually there is. We need someone who is even more mean and greedier than Malcolm, and I know just the man." She walked over to her desk, and began writing the letter. Dearest Father, I find myself in a bit of a pickle. I have married the man of your choice, but he has met an untimely end. I regret to ask for your help, but I've no choice. I'm not sure whether you've been unfortunate enough to have been introduced to the Duke's son, Malcolm, but he is holding me hostage in this castle and refuses to allow me to leave until he has wed me, and stolen the mass fortune that I've inherited in the Duke's passing. I require someone who will protect me for a fee, and I ask this of you. I know you have always wanted a manor by the sea, and this you shall have if you would save me from this man. If he has the opportunity to wed me, or compromise me in any way, it will not be long before I meet my own demise. Please I beg you as a daughter, the spawn of your seed, to aid me in this matter. It will be the only favor I will ever ask of you. Your loving daughter, Marianne, Duchess of Hallstead Trace had read the letter as she wrote it, and was frowning. It was such a shame that she was force to bribe her own father in preventing her own death. They were able to get Beth to agree to take the letter as far as the Finch's with another letter to them asking for assistance in delivering it. They both began to pray. The next evening was a lovely one. She had been trying to stay in her room as much as possible, but she couldn't resist getting out of the house on such a beautiful day. Jules lead her through the gardens, and he happily gave her the news that her father had agree to come and transport out of here, but would not be able to get here for another day or so. She didn't care. As long as she could put Malcolm off for another day, she would be free of him for good. Trace was also tired of being coup up all day, not that he minded spending time with his fair lady, but it was getting stuffy in her chambers. She had been on edge since the funeral, so they hadn't really had anymore sexual encounters since that first night. They would spend their nights together discussing ways of escaping, and making plans for when they finally did. He was getting to the point that his frustrations were beginning to show. He passed Malcolm in the hall on his way to the kitchen, and found that his anger would soon have a venting point. Malcolm turned to watch that prissy Marianne's maid walk by him. He had his eye on her since her arrival. He had once spotted her sneaking into the jester's room one night, and it was driving him crazy not getting a piece of her. He had fucked every female in the castle, and most of them wouldn't look at him anymore. All of them were fucking bitches who couldn't handle his rough treatment, but he had a feeling that Florence might be different. He turned and followed her to the kitchen. When she noticed that he had followed her, she sneered at him, and ignored him even when he spoke to her. "Hello my pretty, I noticed you are without your ward. I don't know how you stand being stuck in that room all day. A beautiful thing like yourself should be able to roam as you wish, and well, I'm sure your sex life has suffered these last few days. I was watching you at the wake, and I can't seem to think of anyone else." He noticed her becoming uncomfortable standing there. This was a great sign. She's getting wet I bet. "I would like to kiss you if you'd let me?" He started to back her into the corner of the kitchen. She was quickly looking for an escape route away from him, but he could see it was only to tease him. When she reached the cupboard, she quickly opened it, and ran inside. She stopped suddenly, and turned in shock. He closed the door, locked it, and put the key inside his pants. "You're right, this is a better place for us to play. If you want out, you'll have to come and get the key, and I won't give it up easily." She reached up and grabbed a bag of tea and tossed it at his head, but he blocked it easily enough and rushed to pin her against the wall. She turned in his arms, and pressed herself against the wall of the storage closet. He chuckled at her suggestion. "You like it from behind do you? Well, I'm happy to oblige." He quickly pulled up her dress, pulled her underwear down, and teased her tight ass with his fingers. "Oh baby, you are so tight. I like that." He heard her cursing, and was completely turned on by it. She was struggling again, but he just pushed her harder against the wall. He used his feet to spread her legs even further apart. She was moaning from discomfort, but not once did she complain. He ran his hand up and down her ass. God, he was going to enjoy this. He spotted a tub of lard sitting on the shelf beside them, so he reached up dipping a finger inside, then rubbing the greasy substance around her little red orifice and worked his finger inside. She was moaning again, and tensing up as he fucked her with his finger. He was getting so hard hearing her groaning. He dipped his finger back into the lard and rubbed it all over his enlarged penis. It was thick and long, and he was going to sink every inch of it inside his pretty maid. He slid the tip of his cock inside her anus. She flinched from it's massiveness. He grabbed her hips, and forced her still. Taking great care not to rip her, he gently stroked back and forth easing into her slowly. When at last he was completely inside, he had notice that she was starting to relax a little. He whispered in her ear, "God you feel heavenly. I've wanted to do this forever, but nobody ever indulged me. Does that feel good for you baby?" He was moving in a slow rhythm. She grunted as an answer, and he grinned. "Oh yeah! Fuck my cock baby. I want to hear you scream." When he began to quicken the pace, Florence was rocking with him, and even changing course to force herself back onto him. Malcolm no longer needed to hold her hips, so his hands wondered to her firm round breast. He grabbed them hard and rubbed them furiously. She didn't even complain like those other bitches. He was liking her way too much. Once he forced that little pris Marianne to marry him, he would gladly kill her off just to keep this beauty of a maid in his bed. God, she was bouncing that firm ass against him. He couldn't handle much more of this. "Oh my little whore! I'm going to fucking cum in your tight little ass. Fuck me baby, fuck me good. Make me cum." He could hear her breathing hard, and she had reached behind her and pulling him into every thrust. He let himself go, and pushing hard into her, he spilled his seed. He fell against her forcing her into the wall again. He barely could stand he was so drained. He felt her wiggle out and dart to the door. He turned his head to watch her open the door with the key she must have picked from his front pocket. He smiled. He'll have her again. It was just a matter of time. ************************************************* Trace was sitting on the bed when she returned from her walk. He was clutching himself, and staring off to space. "Sweetheart, are you alright? What are you thinking about?" He looked up her with a disturbing look on his face. How could he tell her what had just happened? How was he going to tell her that he had actually enjoyed it? When she kneeled down in front of him, he still wouldn't look her in the eyes. She climbed on the bed behind him, and wrapped her arms around him. "My father sent a reply to the letter we sent. He's coming to get us Trace! I knew the property on the sea would do the trick. He'll be here by tomorrow. We'll be free of this place, and you and I can be married before the week is over." She started kissing his neck, and whispered in his ear, "You know, we haven't really had the chance to finished what we started on my wedding night. It belonged to you, and soon, it will always be yours." He turned his head and captured her lips. She ran her hands down over his chest, and molded her breast into his back. He stood up on his knees and pushed her down to lie before him. He quickly released her from her dress and attacked her pussy as though he was dying of thirst. She was amazed at his passion. He was rougher than he had been during their first mating, but she was surprised how much she enjoyed it. She had three orgasm just having him sucking at her. He finally stood up, and removed his maid uniform. He was so hard and erect, she sat and watched in fascination as he strolled toward her. "Do you want this mistress? Do you want all this inside of you?" She nodded and motioned him to her. She spread her legs wide apart. He pushed her into the mattress as he settled between her. He brought his cock up to her center, and felt the juices building up there. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and plunged deep inside. He bite on it hard as her pussy tighten around him. He fucked her hard reaching under her to lift her hips so he could grind into her roughly. She was moaning and screaming his name, not caring who heard her cries. He released her nipple only to catch it's twin and submit it to the same torture. Finally he tensed up and plunged into her, filling her with cum. She let out another cry, and shook under him as another wave of pleasure racked her body. She wasn't sure what had gotten into him, but she was liking the consequences. She snuggled up to him, and drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair until he fell asleep himself. He'd worry about everything tomorrow. At least he knew she was going to be safe after tomorrow. The next day, everyone was surprised when a carriage arrived with Marianne's parents. They were greeted by Malcolm with hostility. He didn't invite them in, and refuse to fetch Marianne from her room. They stood outside in an argument that had all the staff stopping and staring in amazement. Jules snuck inside and knocked on their door. Trace answered still dressed in his maid uniform. Marianne was quickly putting her shoes on, and gathering her bags. They all raced downstairs to see her father forcing his way into the door. "Where's my daughter you scum! Don't think the king will hear of your treatment of her. I may only be a Lord, but I still hold court regularly. He will hear me out about this sir. Now release me, and allow me to fetch her!" Marianne was so shocked to see her father in such a rage. She was almost hopeful that it wasn't her holdings that was making him do this. "I'm here father." She dropped her bags and ran to him. He hugged her close, and for the first time ever, she felt the warmth of his arms around her. Her mother also ran to embrace her. She found herself crying at such a touching moment. "Oh, how glad I am to see you both." They finally broke apart, and her mother guided her to the carriage. Her father retrieved her cases, and glanced briefly at "Florence" as they both loaded the bags on top of the carriage. Malcolm stared heartbrokenly at Florence as she caught his eye before climbing inside. He saw the sadness there. She'd be back. If not, he would find her. She was the best fuck, he'd ever had, and he wasn't about to let this be the end of it. Smiling to himself, he let them go. Another day... Trace left the household as Florence, and returned a day later as The Jester. Her father was so amused by him, that he allowed the wedding to proceed, just to have the funny man on hand to entertain his guest. Their parties quickly became the most "fun" of all the land. Marianne and her parents started a relationship that had been missing all those years. She was thrilled to finally have her cake, and eat it too. Trace was also happy, and every once in awhile, they would travel back to visit with the Finch's. Trace took hunting gear, and claimed a night of their visits as his own, to sport a little duck hunting. He never came back with a prize duck, but Marianne wasn't surprised. He really wasn't good for anything but being a jester. What she didn't know was, he secretly packed a maid's uniform inside his bag.