1 comments/ 3094 views/ 0 favorites The Fall of York Ch. 63-67 By: nicecthulhu The Doctor's Daughter: The Fall of York Thank you to searchingforperfection and catbrown for their hard work in editing and all of their suggestions. I appreciate all votes and comments, and I do read all the comments. This story is a sequel to The Doctor's Daughter. Both are set during the War of 1812. Since the death of Major General Brock in the fall of 1812, neither side has scored a decisive victory. There have been minor accomplishments for both the Americans and the British, but the War Hawks in Washington are eager for more promising actions that will validate Jefferson's boasts that the conquest of Canada is "a mere matter of marching". In the spring of 1813 Major General Henry Dearborn is ordered to lead his forces in an attack on Kingston, Ontario. He considers those orders and then attacks the town of York (later known as Toronto), instead. 63 Lawrence signed 'Major and Mrs. Orr, witnesses' into the ledger, while Abigail kept a nervous eye on the American officer who had attended the wedding in the General's place. Lawrence had suggested that the commander did not trust Jacob to show up for duty that night and his wife had agreed with his estimation. The young minister took Jacob and Millie in hand and brought them forward to face the small crowd of attendees. He announced them as Mr. and Mrs. Wright and then gave them a blessing. The church echoed with clapping and even the American officer applauded, Lawrence noted. The wedding party then retired outside, where some tables with refreshments had been set up. Abigail had wanted to turn the occasion into a ball and Mrs. Croyden had heartily agreed, but the bride and groom had been firm in their denial. They had explained their concern over the implication that they were happy about the most recent invasion, should the event be too celebratory. After the food had been eaten and people were milling about chatting amiably, Lawrence approached the Yankee officer. "Sir, I am Major Lawrence Orr, retired." The officer saluted smartly. "Captain George Adams, at your service sir. You gave the bride away? I didn't know she was your daughter; I'd been informed that she was...your maid." "And so she is, Captain. She has no family and I thought it prudent to act in her father's place. Do you know the groom?" The American glanced over at the laughing bride and groom. "Not at all. I think I recognize his face from the first attack on York, but I cannot be sure. Obviously, you know I was sent by the General to ensure he reports for duty." "And what time is he obliged to do that by?" The Yankee looked around and smiled. "I have some leeway there. Do he and the bride have a bridal suite somewhere?" "No." Then Lawrence cursed himself for admitting as much. It would have been better to make the American think Jacob was planning or hoping to stay in town overnight. "Well, then I suppose I could only delay until about nine o'clock tonight. You understand, I am sure Major." "I understand. The groom and his lovely bride may not, sir." "I won't rush the parting, sir. We're here to free you from tyranny, not make your lives worse." "So I've been informed," replied Lawrence, in a clearly unbelieving tone that brought him a look of reproach from the American. He bowed to the officer and then returned to his wife's side. "What news, husband," Abigail asked, very discretely. "He's too damn nice," was the reply. "Now, now. Remember he's the enemy." They both smiled as the Croyden's approached. "I assume you have some plan arranged, Major?" asked Mr. Croyden, eying the American officer. Lawrence nodded. Abigail's eyes widened. "Tell us Lawrence," she said. He took a deep breath. "I don't want the man killed; as I've told Abigail, he's a good man just doing his duty. I think I can distract him, but I'll need help and it will mean...it will mean Abigail escorts the Wrights to meet the boatman alone." "I'll go with your wife, sir," said My Croyden, lifting his chin. "Thank you. You're a good friend, sir." "Pray what else do you require?" inquired Mrs. Croyden, caught up in the conspiracy and enjoying herself immensely. "I need someone to go to Chief Justice Powell's house and have a bottle of fine brandy brought to this minister. And I need to convince this minister to agree to inviting myself and the American officer for a drink, perhaps under the ruse of discussing what is to become of his flock while the Americans are here. Reverend Strachan has been busy elsewhere and I believe it would be natural for this younger man to show these concerns." "I'll fetch the alcohol. I always wanted to meet the Powells," stated Mrs. Croyden, who promptly left on her quest. "And I'll talk with the minister, Major. I've known William Bowyer since he was first sent here and I'm sure I can convince him to play along with you, especially if I point out that you are friendly with Reverend Strachan. Do you want him there with the two of you and drinking as well?" asked Mr. Croyden. "He can drink as he likes if he can hold himself steady, but I plan to let the American enjoy most of the brandy or at least enough to dim his faculties. You can ask the minister to turn the topic to the military rule of Brock, Sheaffe and our current Major General after the drinks have been poured," suggested Lawrence. Mr. Croyden winked at Lawrence and then left. Lawrence and Abigail mingled with the party-goers, but kept a careful eye on the conspirators. Mrs. Croyden returned with a nod and a happy smile and then met up with her husband and the minister. Soon enough, the minister seemed to steel his nerve and then strode towards Lawrence. Abigail tugged on her husband's arm so that they would encounter the American officer a few seconds before the minister reached them. "Captain Adams, I don't believe you met my wife. Abigail, this is Captain Adams." The officer bowed low. "A pleasure to meet you, ma'am. Are you enjoying the wedding reception?" "Oh, yes, but then I organized most of it. Are you enjoying yourself, Captain? You seem to be isolated at the end of this table during this most happy of occasions. You do realize that it is one of your countrymen who is marrying a daughter of Upper Canada, do you not sir?" Abigail seemed all innocence and ignorance. "Why Abigail!" said Lawrence. "Surely I told you that the Captain was here to ensure that Jacob does not go truant tonight?" "Oh, yes! Silly of me to forget. But Captain, surely in your nation a newly married couple is allowed some time alone on their wedding night?" She leaned forward. "You know that is the custom among us British citizens." Abigail blushed and glanced at her husband. Lawrence watched as the Captain also blushed and he marvelled at his wife's ability to appear embarrassed at will. Yet again, he was left wondering how he had ever been so lucky to find such a wonderful woman. "Major!" called out the minister as he joined their small group. "Retired Major, reverend. We don't want this Captain capturing my husband and whisking him away to some dank prison," reminded Abigail. "Oh, correct." The minister looked from Lawrence to Abigail and seemed to lose his nerve. Then he looked at the American and regained it. "Major Orr, I had a bottle of brandy in my office that we could open and then have a toast to the happy couple." "Oh, dear!" said Abigail. "I'm sure that Jacob cannot drink, being a soldier on duty and all. It would be cruel to have brandy in front of him." "Well, actually ma'am, I was thinking that the Major and this American officer would enjoy a glass while we discussed various things," the minister said airily. "I am curious about whether I should hold a church service tomorrow or whether the Americans will put a stop to it or replace our church with one of their own liberal religions." "I don't think that would be such a good idea, sir." The Captain was unemotional and Lawrence wondered if perhaps the man made a habit of abstaining from alcohol. "There are some questions I also would like to put to you, man to man. And a wedding would not be the proper atmosphere, Captain." Lawrence forced his face to remain unemotional. The Captain looked about at the various people on the church lawn. Everything looked simple and innocent. Lawrence could see him wavering and gave a nod at Abigail. "Lawrence, I'm not sure if I like the idea of you drinking in the late afternoon. You know how spirits affect you. Reverend, you are not to give him more than half a glass of this brandy." "Yes, ma'am." Lawrence turned toward the church and then looked back over his shoulder. "Are you coming with us, Captain?" "Yes, just for a short time." 64 The minister kept himself to a single half-glass of the potent liquid. Lawrence downed three glasses and was feeling somewhat relaxed. He made himself seem even more relaxed and loquacious. The Captain matched Lawrence drink for drink. While he also seemed relaxed, Lawrence noted the careful attention the man paid to everything that he said. "And what are your opinions of the new Major General, sir," the Captain asked while looking Lawrence in the face. "Oh, a fine man and a good officer. He has the bravery of Sheaffe and the officiousness of Brock. Or is it the other way around? Of course, he's no Hull," and at that point Lawrence knew he had said too much. The American went very serious. "I thank you for the brandy gentlemen, but I really must be keeping an eye on the groom." He stood and stared at his two companions. The minister looked frightened and looked to Lawrence. Lawrence yawned. "Yes, I suppose you are correct, sir. Let us go back outside." The three men went out of the church and on to the lawn where they saw a few men and women moving the tables to the side of the building for later storage. Most of the guests had left and the bride and groom were nowhere to be seen. Mrs. Croyden walked toward them calmly. "Ma'am, will you be so kind as to inform me as to where the groom has gone?" asked Captain Adams. "Why of course, sir. But I hope you won't disturb them; the poor man has been called back to duty so any time he can spend with his new bride right now is a blessing. They went in to town, with my husband and Mrs. Orr." The Captain breathed a sigh of relief. The minister excused himself and went to oversee the stowing of the tables and chairs. Mrs. Croyden excused herself and went in to the church for some purpose unknown to the two men. "Oh, look," said Lawrence, "there's Abigail and Mr. Croyden approaching now." He pointed to the main part of town, where two figures were seen approaching. They waited until the two were close enough for conversation before calling out to them. "Mrs. Orr?" asked the American officer. "Where is Jacob Wright?" Abigail took on an innocent expression. "Why, in town. Where else would he be with his new wife?" Mr. Croyden took his leave and went into the church. "Where in town?" asked the Captain with some impatience. "Why, I am sure that I don't know. They do need their privacy." She winked at the two men. The American glowered at her and then stormed off. The Orrs watched him disappear amongst the buildings in town and then briefly reappear as he headed in the direction of the American soldiers standing guard on shore. "Everything went as planned, my love. Mr. Lafleur was waiting at the ruins of the French fort exactly as he told you he would. Their bags were already in his boat and Mr. Croyden I and saw them safely off on to the lake." "I'm glad you had the presence of mind to approach the church from town and not from the west. They'll spend some time searching York for them and then give up. So that's it, then. That's the last we see of Millie. She was with us for such a short time, but in some ways it seemed like she was with us for such a long time." "I know, Lawrence," she leaned against him. "The house is going to seem emptier without her, my love." He put an arm around her as the wind picked up. "You will be around a lot more than you have been. And we won't be alone for long." He gave her a questioning glance. "Yes, I'm sure now." 65 "The wind's getting worse!" called out Mr. Lafleur. "I don't like it. We'd better head back." Millie and Jacob stared at the grizzled French mariner. His little craft bucked and jumped in what was fast becoming the stormy waters of Lake Ontario. "We cannot go back! Is it really that dangerous to go on?" asked Jacob. The Frenchman shrugged. "Perhaps. I thought that you being newly married and all, that you'd want to play it safe with your bride. She seems like such a delicate girl." Millie's eyes opened wide at his statement. She had seen Lafleur about town all of her life and he had doubtless seen her, but he didn't realize that the hungry girl begging for scraps was this same young woman in a wedding dress. "I can stand it." The Frenchman shrugged again. "We have to make a decision soon. See those dark clouds!" They followed his pointing finger and stared north and west into an inverted, bubbling blackness. "When they get closer my only choice will be to run in front of the storm." "I have money!" shouted Millie. The Frenchman and Jacob both stared at her in surprise. She pulled the notes from the baggage. "Will one hundred pounds get us across the lake?" Jacob grabbed her arm. "Where did you get that from? I cannot believe that you stole it." "Mr and Mrs. Orr gave it to me as my dowry. I'll give it all away if it means keeping you from being captured by the Yankees!" "Wait a minute there, young lady. You're worried about the Americans capturing your groom?" Millie nodded. "Keep your money! I'll get you across, but why do you want to be dropped off on the American side?" Millie and Jacob quickly recited their tale and the Frenchman's eyes grew wider and wider. At the end he simply nodded and then concentrated on sailing his small craft. Millie and Jacob huddled together as the rain began to fall in sheets around them. An hour later, Lafleur was cursing in a mix of English and French as he battled to keep the small bateau from getting swamped. Millie and Jacob were sitting on either side of the boat, with their arms stretched across so they could keep holding hands. Rain pelted down upon them from different directions and both were repeatedly surprised when rain appeared to 'fall' upward from the waves. The craft bucked and danced under the black sky and all three souls kept a tight grip wherever they could, for fear of being thrown out. A wave of obsidian green suddenly rose up beside them. Millie and Jacob heard the boatman scream, "Tabernac!" and then the wave smashed into Millie's side and washed across the boat. Jacob opened his mouth to cry out for Millie and it filled with lake water. Something heavy struck him below the surface and he grabbed at it and pulled it up beside him, not knowing whether it was his new wife or a large fish. Millie dropped her head on his shoulder and spit out a mouthful of water. The Frenchman shouted something at the two of them and Jacob shook his head angrily, wishing the man would speak English. Lafleur urgently pointed at a wooden box at the bottom of the boat. Jacob, with Millie huddled against him and unwilling to release her hold upon him, opened the latch and lifted the lid. There were various supplies, but he assumed the boatman wanted him and Millie to use the buckets to bail out the water. He handed one to his bride. She took a serious look at his face and then began to throw water over the side. Jacob did the same. Just as they emptied much of the water, another wave crashed across the boat and Jacob felt himself sliding over the side. Hands grabbed his leg and belt and kept him from disappearing beneath the waves. He was obliged to use his own strength to lift himself back completely into the boat. He turned to thank the Frenchman and found to his surprise that the man was still at the tiller. Millie stared at Jacob with a mixed look of terror and relief. "Be more careful!" she commanded. Jacob nodded in response and then looked about futilely for his bucket. "It's gone!" he heard Millie say. "Along with all of our belongings!" he added. "You're still here!" said Millie, grabbing his arm. He gave her a madman's grin as lightning flashed brightly directly above them. They narrowed their eyes to slits as an enormous explosion sounded all around. "Merde!" swore the Frenchman. Jacob looked to where the boatmen pointed and saw a massive round wave looming almost directly before them. Jacob wondered how such a thing could exist in the middle of this enormous lake. "It's a rock! Are we close to shore?" asked Millie, turning to Lafleur. He shrugged in response. "Where are we, Lafleur?" Millie demanded. "Mon Dieu!" replied the boatman. Then he shook his head and pressed against the tiller with all his might, trying to turn the boat away from the very rock the wind was driving them towards. "Only God knows, mademoiselle!" The boat rose up on its stern, nearly perpendicular to the water, and then it exploded. Boards and splinters flew everywhere. Jacob was thrown up and he looked down and wondered if he would land directly on the top of the rock. Then he saw Lafleur slip below the water and Millie thrown off to his right, into the unforgiving waves. Jacob began to fall. His feet kicked him away from the side of the rock and in the direction he had last seen Millie. Jacob plunged deep, feeling with his outstretched hands for any sign of his bride, and then rose to the surface. He looked about in the blackness and called out for Millie, but the howling wind drowned out any reply. He took a deep breath to dive and look for her again, when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He whirled about and saw the Frenchman. "Millie's skirts will drag her down!" he called out desperately. Lafleur shook his head and pointed behind Jacob, to the rock that had smashed the bateau to pieces. A wave swept them up and then they dropped into a trough. As the water lowered around the rock, Jacob spied Millie clutching to it. He and the Frenchman swam for her. Upon reaching her they pried her hands from where she gripped the rock tightly and then supported her weight between them, keeping her head above the surface. "We'll have to swim to shore, Lafleur. Which way is it?" The Frenchman stared at him in amazement. "Fine! We go this way then!" Jacob said, fighting his way through the water and around the rock in the hope that the shore lay close behind. The two men struggled against the waves and wind, but made some headway. When Jacob glanced at Lafleur he could see the other man was as exhausted as he was. Millie opened her eyes and looked at the two of them. A strange moment of calm seemed to occur around them. "Jacob. You and Lafleur should leave me and save yourselves." He heard her voice clearly though she did not raise it. "Never!" "No, mademoiselle. What kind of men would we be?" They swam on. 66 It could have been minutes or hours later that a large wave washed them on to a sandy shore peppered with hand-sized stones. Jacob and Lafleur crawled further up onto the land, dragging Millie along between them until at last none of them could go any further. Millie reached out and took Jacob's hand in hers. Then all three slept, with the waves splashing up to their ankles but no further. Millie awoke first and found the world still dark, but strangely quiet. She squeezed Jacob's hand and then rolled over and kissed him on his forehead. His skin was warm. She sat up and put her hand on Lafleur's cheek and found he was alive, as well. She looked about, noting that the storm had ended and the sky had cleared somewhat. The moonlight revealed they were well removed from the surf. She looked east and then west, seeing bits of debris from the bateau, but no evidence that any of their belongings had washed up onto shore. She had lived with nothing before and survived, so she was not greatly frightened by the prospect of finding herself without possessions on the shores of Lake Ontario. The Fall of York Ch. 63-67 She stood and headed to the tree line to collect some firewood, if she could find any dry enough. She brought what she found back to the men. Then she gave Lafleur an odd look. Millie reached into the folds of her dress, where she had hidden the fortune that Mr. and Mrs. Orr had given her. She pulled it out and hid it within his shirts. Nodding her head in satisfaction, she smiled at the thought that she had repaid this man for saving her and Jacob. She had no idea how she would ever repay Mr. and Mrs. Orr for everything they had done for her and that thought troubled her. Eventually, the two men woke. The three of them sat and collected their strength for awhile. Millie was relieved that Lafleur had not noticed the small, wrapped bundle tucked away in his clothes. "Have you any idea where we might be, Lafleur?" asked Jacob. "Non." "Alive and healthy on the shores of Lake Ontario, Jacob," observed Millie with a big smile. Once day began to break, the Frenchman stood and stretched. "I will go this way," he said pointing westwards. "At worst, I will reach the Niagara and cross it back into Upper Canada. At best I will make my way around the lake and back to York eventually." "What do you think, Millie?" asked Jacob. She blinked and then remembered he had seen how Mr. Orr treated his wife. Jacob's comments about the men and women in his own family also came to her mind. "I go wherever you go, husband." "Then we go east, Lafleur. We either reach the Niagara and cross it into America or we're already in America and we eventually head south to my - to our home." Jacob stood and offered his hand to the Frenchman. "I wish we could give you something to show how grateful we are, but we lost everything in the storm just as you lost your fine boat." Lafleur shrugged and shook Jacob's hand. "When I get back to York, I am sure Major Orr will recompense me for my losses. He liked you, American, and the Orr's are very fond of Millie. God go with you!" They parted, and Millie and Jacob began to walk along the beach, hand in hand. They were tired and hungry, but they were together. After awhile they headed inland to avoid climbing over larger and larger stones. Jacob hoped that they would find a farm, from which they might beg some food. They did find a small stream and they quenched their thirst and washed their faces. Millie sat upon some moss and sighed. She stretched out her legs and rubbed them while Jacob splashed cool water upon his brow and the back of his neck. "Why the sigh?" he asked, stepping up on to the embankment. She tilted her head and looked up at him. "I had thought it unlikely to ever have such a fine wedding and now I have had no wedding night, husband." "Ah." He sat down beside her. "You didn't expect to be spat upon some foreign shore like Jonah," he said with a smirk. "Why, no," and she coloured as she realized where the conversation was drifting. "It's just that there are certain...wifely duties I must submit to on my wedding night and..." He lifted her chin so their eyes met. "I do not ask for submission, Millie. All I want is your love." "Oh, I do love you so Jacob, how could I not? Propriety demands I behave in a certain manner and yet..." she turned away from him. "And yet...?" He waited patiently, but she said nothing for a full minute. "We are husband and wife, joined unto death beloved Millie. Is there any reason you should not speak freely to me?" She looked down and ran her hands over the soft, green moss. She bit her lip and then, recollecting Mrs. Orr's admonishments, she opened her mouth to speak. "With all that was said about me in York...I don't want you to doubt my character." "Go on..." suggested Jacob. "Well, a wife is supposed to submit to her husband's...needs. And yet Mrs. Orr told me such things! I am curious, but would not have you think badly of me, Jacob." "Ah. You think that it might be sinful for you to enjoy the relations between husband and wife because you have been told that they are sinful?" Millie nodded in response. "Well, I would rather have you enjoy our intimacy. Did God not command that we be fruitful and multiply across the Earth?" Millie turned to him to see if he was jesting with her, but his face was serious. "We shall not have a child every time we lay together, wife. And I intend that we should have many children. What did Mrs. Orr tell you?" Millie's cheeks reddened. "Only that...well, a husband and wife might...that we might..." "Did she suggest that there was pleasure to be had in laying together? I see no harm in that." Jacob looked about at the trees surrounding them and the burbling creek a short distance away. Sunlight fell through gaps in the trees, warming small patches of moss. "We appear to have some privacy here." "Privacy, husband?" "Privacy." He took her in his arms and pulled her tightly against him. "We haven't had any until now, have we?" she asked with a small smile. "Hmm." He leaned forward and kissed her lips. They were soft and promising and she hummed in approval. His hands left her and he removed his jacket, letting it fall to the ground. Her own hands pulled off her cap and then tugged at the strings of her blouse, trying to undo the knots. Their breathing quickened as the kiss continued. They were both afraid to break the kiss, but they were also having trouble removing their clothes. Millie's hum of approval transformed into a grunt of frustration. Jacob struggled to kick off his boots. At last he pulled away. "Millie, this just isn't working!" "What?" She looked at him uncomprehending as he untied his own shirt and pulled it over his head, revealing a sleek torso with some dark hair in the middle of his chest. She wanted to run her fingers across his bare flesh, but remembered that she was still fully dressed. As she concentrated on undoing the knots of her blouse, he reached down and pulled off his boots. As his second boot came off, Jacob lost his balance and rolled a short distance away. Millie laughed, covering her mouth to hide her merriment at her husband's misfortune, and then slipped her arms out of her loosened blouse and pushed her dress over her legs. Jacob stood, proudly holding the boot for her to see. He was rewarded with a small clap and more laughter. Millie's remaining blouse and underskirts followed her dress to the mossy ground, and then she kicked the clothes away. "Voila!" she said, spreading her arms. Then her face went red as she realized that she had just shamelessly stripped and exposed herself for this man, even though he was her husband. She threw her arms across her body and turned away from him. "Don't be ashamed, Millie. You're my wife and I think you're beautiful, just like that girl in that story of Ancient Rome." She looked back at him over his shoulder as he pulled off his trousers. Her eyes took in his thighs and the sight that lay between them that slowly rose and grew larger. She averted her eyes. "I don't know who you mean, husband." "That girl! The one they went to war over. She was kidnapped or ran off and an army gathered to attack the city she was hidden in. And there was something about a giant wooden horse and everyone being drunk." "You mean Helen of Troy. That was a Greek story." "Oh, well Gran told me it a long time ago. You're more beautiful than her." Millie forced herself to turn around and let her arms drop to her sides. She raised her eyes and looked at Jacob as he walked purposefully across the moss towards her. Mrs. Orr had given her some advice about the wedding night and she hoped that it was good advice. Jacob went to her legs and crouched, and Millie stared down at the top of his head in surprise. Was he bowing to her, she wondered? Then she felt a tug on her boot. He loosened the laces on one and then the other. Then he ran his hand slowly up the back of her leg, from her ankle to just below her knee. He lifted her limb and slipped off the boot. He did the same for the other leg and then rose to kneel directly in front of her. "I'm a little scared, Jacob." His eyes darted around her face, then down to her breasts and then back up to her face. "So am I." He put his hand on her cheek and drew her to her knees, until they were leaning against each other. Millie's heart hammered in her chest as she wondered what he would do next. Jacob's own heart beat just as quickly, but he fought to keep himself calm. The mere feel of her breasts against his chest and her thighs against his was raising his manhood. She jumped slightly when it touched her inner leg, but she otherwise showed no sign of being scared. His member continued to rise and harden until it stopped, halted by the convergence of her legs. Jacob licked his lips and then felt Millie slip her arms around his waist and pull him a little closer. He tilted her face up a little and then leaned forward and kissed her again. All of his senses focussed on two points, his lips and his penis. He could feel her hands on the small of his back and other places were their flesh met, but those sensations were mere peripheral feelings. Millie's senses were focussed on those two points, as well. Jacob's lips were hot and assertive. They almost seemed to flow over her own to the point where she felt as if the kiss were something she had no control over. She felt herself shift her knees apart slightly, spreading her legs just wide enough that his erection rose a little higher against her. She sighed as she felt the tip of him against her lower lips and he pushed gently, parting her slightly. Mrs. Orr had spoken to her of this: the joyful betrayal of her own body as it hungered for what her husband had to offer. She had been told that Mr. Orr almost always seemed to be in control of himself as the two made love and the thought that she was the source of passion and animal cravings was as exciting as it was sinful. And now, she understood exactly what her former mistress had told her. They were moving, somehow. She didn't care; all she wanted was him. She felt herself being lowered down to lie on the soft moss. Millie's eyes flashed open in surprise to see her husband kneeling over her, between her legs. Jacob leaned forward and slipped his hands beneath her round bottom. He lifted and then pulled her a little closer. Grabbing one of her ankles, he lifted it until her leg was fully extended. Then he put his lips on the ankle and slowly kissed his way down her leg to her knee raising a small moan from his wife. Millie looked down between her breasts and spied his member, fully erect with a purplish-red helmet atop it. From what Mrs. Orr had told her, this meant he was ready to take her. She could feel her own moistures readying her body for his size. She hadn't expected it to be so big, though. Jacob noticed her glance. Placing his hand over her sex, he could feel the heat and moisture that promised everything he had dreamed of since he had first met Millie. He drew himself closer to her, still holding one leg up, until his erection waited just outside the folds. He used his fingers to spread her silken flesh and ease his passage, as he pushed himself in. Millie shuddered and arched her back for a couple of seconds. The feel of him entering had been slightly painful, but oh so satisfying, just as Mrs. Orr had promised it would be with a caring and kind husband like Jacob. He hesitated, as if concerned that he might hurt her, until she was desperate for him to enter more deeply. "Jacob...please!" He slid in slowly, enjoying the feel of her moisture lubricating the tight passage. His eyes drank her in. Her own eyes were closed. Her neck was arched and her chin was raised. Her mouth formed an 'o', but no sound came out. Her skin was smooth and soft. Her breasts were firm mounds, topped by brown nipples. Her form was as beautiful as he had imagined. And she had eagerly consented to be his wife! Jacob slid in as far as he could and then released her ankle. He placed his arms on either side of his wife and lifted his hips, sliding himself out of her somewhat. He could feel Millie lift her own hips, as if to entice him to stay deep inside of her. In answer he gently pushed down and her back arched again. Millie could feel no sensation but the incredible friction and filling of her vagina. Something within her, that she could not name, seemed to be building. With each thrust, it grew larger and more dominant. She didn't care for propriety and she didn't care for her good reputation. If someone happened by she would simply wave at the person happily and beg her husband to continue. Mrs. Orr had warned her of this feeling, this pinnacle of pleasure. Millie recalled that she was supposed to stretch it out and let it build as high as she could make it. The longer it took the more incredible everything would feel. As her husband thrust again and again, Millie struggled to keep control of her conscious mind. However, everything just felt too good. Jacob could feel Millie's total surrender to him. He had asked her if he was pushing too hard, but she hadn't responded in any way. So he sped up and pushed harder, assuming she would tell him if he was too rough. He had no idea how long he'd been pumping himself into her, but his energy seemed to be boundless. And the happy look on Millie's face made the effort so worthwhile. Something happened. She suddenly felt as if a dam had shattered and sensations flashed throughout her body. Her muscles relaxed as if from exhaustion and her mind was fuzzy. She knew Jacob was there, but she didn't know exactly where and she wondered if he had stopped making love to her. Then another wave of pleasure rolled through her and she realized the first one had been so strong that she had almost fainted. Jacob was there, thrusting into her frantically. Millie's back arched and arched again. A great sigh escaped her lips as her hands squeezed his shoulders. He could feel a sudden tensing and release within himself, and then his own muscles tensed again. Putting his arms under her back, he lifted Millie and sat back on his legs. His erection pulsed, like water gushing from a pump and he lifted his hips, pushing into her as deeply as he could. His seed pulsed out again, but this time he didn't have the energy nor the strength to push into her. Millie felt Jacob holding her tightly and willed her slack arms to obey her commands. She wrapped them around her husband and she cried into his ear, "Oh, thank you! Oh, thank you!" But she was not sure whether she thanked Jacob for his considerate and considerable efforts, or God for granting her husband the ability to bring her such pleasure. It was some time before either of them stirred. Their backs grew cool and they could hear the soft sounds of the forest. Jacob spoke first. "Millie? Perhaps we should dress so we do not grow cold." "Hmm," was her response, but she released him and her arms fell like dead weights. Jacob found that his own arms and legs were not following his commands as they should, but the two managed to collect their clothes and they slowly dressed. Afterwards, they sat beside the stream, hugging each other, and watched its gentle current carry leaves and bubbles away. "Was I pleasurable, husband?" Millie asked shyly. "Most definitely. I assume that you have no complains?" She pondered this for long enough to worry Jacob. "If you do not think me too forward, husband, I think that we shall need a very sturdy bed if we are to try and have many children." And she gave him a smile. 67 The several days that followed were idyllic, if exhausting. The weather was suited for walking through the hilly forests and pastures they came across. Encountering isolated farms and the people who owned them the two quickly learned that they were in the United States of America, and Jacob was able to get his bearings and lead Millie south toward his family farm. Millie found the people friendly and much like the people of Upper Canada. They were offered food at every farm they found, in exchange for news and the story of how the two came to be wandering across New York State. Sometimes they slept in a barn and sometimes by a fire on the open ground. Millie would rest her head on Jacob's shoulder and they would talk quietly as they relaxed their aching muscles. Eventually, Jacob recognized some landmarks and excitedly led Millie to the crest of a bluff. He pointed out and named a river and some farms for her. She felt herself smiling in response to his enthusiasm at being so close to home after such a long journey. "We'll follow that river for a while until we come to my Uncle Joshua's farm," Jacob said, his voice louder than normal. "He'll see us safely home." Millie surveyed the countryside. It looked so much like the land she had left forever. "What then, Jacob?" He turned to her in surprise. "Why, we'll start farming." "On your parent's farm?" "Oh, maybe, at first. But there's a great deal of unused land around here. My family will help us clear some land and build our house. They'll even get us started with some seed and livestock." He looked away and into the distance. "Nothing too fancy. Probably an acre or two to begin with, and maybe a couple of chickens and a cow." "An acre or two..." Millie had no idea how big an acre was, but it sounded enormous. Jacob took her hand. "I know it's not much, Millie, but we'll work hard and my family will help. In time, we'll have fields full of crops and livestock everywhere. Things will be so good that we'll need help to harvest! Though we'll have to help the others, as well." Millie was silent. I'm a farmer's wife, she thought. The idea hit her fully for the first time, right at that moment. A very short time ago, she had been a penniless, orphan girl with no prospects of marriage. And now... "Are you all right, Millie?" Jacob was staring at her with concern. She blinked, and then rubbed some tears from her eyes. "It's perfect, Jacob! Everything's perfect!" The End I wish to note that it was catbrown who suggested writing a story with two couples when I mentioned that I wasn't sure if I could write another story with Lawrence and Abigail. Also, thank you to my wife who came up with the idea of a duel that got me past a bit of writer's block. And a thank you to searchingforperfection who advised me that my original ending was too long. It did indeed go on, and on, and on, and on.