Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Page 18

  “A partnership? As equals?” asked Elizabeth hopefully.

  “What a novel idea,” he quickly replied, as he again kissed her lips, still kneeling before her.

  As she returned his kiss, Elizabeth reached down to the hem of his shirt and slowly pulled it up and over his head. While some of the men her husband’s age had begun to show an ever-widening waistline and stomach that had grown paunchy, she could see that he was well muscled and his body firm. She began to run her hands over his chest, as he had done to her. He groaned as she lowered her head and her lips touched his now-tightly puckered nipples. Again, he felt himself starting to lose control.

  After only a few moments, he lovingly pushed her away. Lacing her fingers in his, he gently pulled her in the direction of the bed. As she stood, her gown slid from her hips and puddled at her feet. She blushed furiously, and Jerome was shocked to see that the rosy glow covered her entire body. She bravely looked at him and bent her head to guide her now-shaking hands as she unbuttoned his trousers. Later, after what seemed an eternity, she lowered them to rest on the floor over her nightgown. She reached down to touch him, but as soon as her hand made contact with that part of him, he abruptly backed away and led her to the bed.

  They lay down side-by-side, and Jerome again began to suckle and knead Elizabeth’s breasts, while she continued to run her hands lightly over any part of his body that she could reach. The touch of her hands felt like liquid heat traveling over him and settling in a pool in his groin. He had to make her stop, or he would explode before he even began. Capturing her hands to stop their action, he told her urgently, “I have to calm myself, or I will finish before I have ever entered you.”

  They lay together listening to each other’s heightened breathing for several minutes. Then, Jerome took both of Elizabeth’s hands and contained them within one of his own. With his free hand, he caressed her stomach and then moved lower.

  As he stroked through the curls at the apex between her legs, his fingers began to open her folds, searching for the little bundle of nerves that would help make her more able to receive him. His fingers continued to stroke her, until her eyes closed and her body began to shudder. A soft moan escaped from her throat, as she bit into her bottom lip. She closed her legs tightly against his hand, hoping to still its motion, but instead trapped it in place, as he continued to gently stroke there.

  She shuddered for a few more moments until he ceased stroking her. As she calmed, he removed his hand. “Oh, Jerome, was that supposed to happen? It seems that I no longer know my own body.” He raised his hand to show her the wetness covering his fingers. “Yes,” he smiled knowingly, “this is your body’s gift to me. This is how your body prepares the way for me.”

  He moved to position himself over her. Then, gently nudging her legs apart with his knee to open them wider to receive him, he placed the head of his manhood against her opening and slowly pushed in. He stopped only for a moment when he reached her maidenhead. Elizabeth gasped and a flicker of pain passed over her face, but he continued to slowly push into her until he completely filled her, stopping at the opening of her womb.

  Holding himself in place within Elizabeth’s body, he rested the weight of his own body on his elbows. He remained there for a few moments, feeling so tightly squeezed that he was afraid to move. Slowly he began to pull back and then push in again.

  Elizabeth had merely moved her body slightly to more readily accommodate him, when he groaned almost as in pain and emptied his seed deep within her. She could feel the warm moisture as it pumped into her. “Oh, God, I am so sorry, Elizabeth. It has been so long. I was too fast. Your body squeezed me so tightly that I could not hold back. Forgive me. I will make it last longer next time, I promise.”

  Not quite knowing for what he had apologized, Elizabeth forgave him. Little did she know that this would be the mode for their intimate relationship from that time forward. Jerome always made sure he had given her pleasure before he quickly took his own. Never once did their pleasure coincide. Only in this were they not truly intimate partners.

  ∞∞∞

  The newlyweds were up by dawn the next morning, bathed, dressed, and on their way to the harbor to meet the ship that would be transporting them to the Continent. As they boarded the ship, Elizabeth thought back on the morning. When she first awoke, she had been quite sore in her nether region. So, after her bath, she applied a generous amount of the soothing cream from the tiny tin box that her Aunt Lilly had given her to use after the wedding night. There was not much in the tin, so she decided that she would use it sparingly in the future. Jerome had stayed the night with her, not departing to his room until his valet notified him that his bath was ready. Over breakfast, they spoke little, but each would search for the other’s eyes and smile.

  As they entered the harbor, Elizabeth’s excitement grew. Jerome pointed out the ship they would be boarding. “Elizabeth, ‘The Tempest’ is a bit smaller, but similar to the ships your Uncle Gardiner uses to transport goods between England and the Continent,” he explained letting his excitement grow along with hers. “Much larger ships are used for travel to and from the Americas and the East and West Indies. This vessel is one of mine. Although it is not a passenger ship, the captain has made accommodations for us to be able to rest and relax comfortably during the crossing of the channel.”

  It was still very early morning as the sails were unfurled, and the ship exited the harbor pulled by a gentle wind until it was swiftly gliding over the waves. By late afternoon or early evening, they would dock in France, where they were to stay the night in one of the hotels about a quarter hour from the harbor.

  While Jerome went to the Captain’s cabin to discuss some small discrepancies that had been discovered in the bundle count of goods from the last voyage, Elizabeth was free to roam the ship as she pleased. As she walked around the deck, the same wind that caused the sails to inflate had her pelisse, a hooded, woolen cape trimmed in fur, billowing around her legs. Keenly observant, she saw how each task was assigned to an individual crewman and how the ship’s officers gave the general orders, but one crewman in particular gave the work assignments to the individual members of the crew. Although the officer’s instructions were always given in English, Elizabeth overheard several of the crew speaking to one another in Portuguese.

  One crewman had lowered his voice as she passed by several feet away. It was never her intention to eavesdrop, but the wind seemed to carry his voice directly to her as crystal clear as though he were standing by her side and addressing his words directly to her. She continued wandering along her way around the deck and only stopped her stroll when one of the junior officers notified her that a luncheon had been prepared for her and her husband in the Captain’s quarters.

  Elizabeth thanked the officer and, after he bowed to her and continued to walk along the deck, she turned and went in search of her husband. She found him as he was exiting their quarters and, taking his arm gently, guided him back into their cabin. Once the door was shut, she looked at him solemnly and asked as a blush swept over her normally pale complexion, “Did you mean what you said last night about us truly being partners, or did that only apply to our bedroom?”

  He looked at her intently and, surprised that a blush threatened to pink his own cheeks, offered, “I would like for us to be partners in all things. Why do you ask?”

  As a small smile came over her face and her eyes twinkled, she told Jerome what she had overheard the crewmen talking about, and he looked at her with pride and amazement. “I had no idea that you spoke Portuguese.”

  She smiled and fluttered her eyes at him in a coquettish manner as she rested her open palm against her pale neck. “A gentleman’s daughter does not always want to expound too much on all of her accomplishments. Sometimes, she may be viewed as a braggart if in unequal company,” she responded playfully. Then, she added with an almost impish giggle, “I also speak French, Spanish, Italian, and German and am currently working to master Dutch.�
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  Placing her hand on his arm as they left the small cabin, with no apparent pride, she rather matter-of-factly concluded, “I would like to discuss this with you further, but now we are expected in the Captain’s cabin.”

  During luncheon with the Captain, Elizabeth availed herself of his rather gregarious nature and asked numerous questions about the crew, their number, average rate of turnover, wages, nationality, and on and on. The Captain was very polite and answered all of her questions, while volunteering some further observations of his own.

  Once back in their cabin, Elizabeth had Jerome positioned the small table in front of the narrow bench seat that ran almost the width of the tiny cabin, and together they spent almost an hour reviewing the percentage of loss associated with the shipments over the last two years along with the explanation given for each. Finally, Elizabeth’s eyes twinkled with ill-concealed glee as she looked at Jerome. “I think I know a way to reduce the percentage of loss, increase profit, and lessen the turnover of the crew at the same time.” She then explained her solution and her reasoning to her now wide-eyed husband.

  Jerome looked at her with astonishment and no little pride. “Elizabeth,” he grinned, “I have yet to give you a wedding present. I had thought of jewelry, but instead, I would like to give you this ship.”

  “Surely you are not serious,” replied a very surprised and almost stunned Elizabeth, slender fingers pinching the fabric over her heart.

  Taking her hands into his larger ones, he tenderly kissed the back of both. “Dear wife, I see the merit to your plan, so let our ‘business’ partnership begin with this ship. It is yours. Do with it as you will. The profit will be yours alone. You could possibly use it to assist your sisters still at Longbourn.”

  Elizabeth’s throat closed with a small sob and tears threatened as she looked at him, not yet with love in her eyes, but with a growing admiration. Jerome grinned again, “I will let the captain know that WE wish to address the officers and crew as soon as we dock.”

  As he left to see the captain and the cabin door closed behind him, she slowly acknowledged the reality of what Jerome had done. He had actually listened to her, recognized her abilities, and then given her a means to use them and the ability to assist her sisters at the same time.

  Once the ship was docked at the port of Rouen, all of the officers and crew met on the aft deck. The captain, the plume atop his hat gently fluttering in the breeze, cleared his throat, “Attention, please. The owner of the ship wishes to make an address.” Politely gesturing with his hand for Jerome to come forward, he bowed his head slightly, “Mr. Mills.”

  Jerome stepped up on the raised platform, reciprocated with a slight bow of his own, and spoke loudly enough so that everyone there could easily hear, “Thank you, Captain, but I need to make a correction regarding ownership of ‘The Tempest.’” Turning toward Elizabeth, he winked and smiled, “Mrs. Mills is now the ship’s new owner.”

  Immediately, the smile fell from the captain’s face, and just as quickly grumbling could be heard among the crew. Jerome continued looking sternly from the officer to the assembled men before them, “Before you make a judgment against her and possibly an unwise choice, I suggest that you listen to what she has to say. If, after hearing her, you should wish to leave, you will be paid your wages due and may leave at your leisure.”

  He extended his hand to Elizabeth and, placing her delicate hand on his arm, brought her forward on the platform as her cape fluttered about her. With an air of palpable gentility, he then stepped back but remained closely behind her.

  Elizabeth took a moment to assess those who stood on the deck in front of her, and deliberately rested her gaze on the face of each man, one by one, smiling all the while. Then she spoke in a strong and cheerful, but not overly loud, voice, “As surprised as I was by this generous gift from my husband, I can see that you are even more so.”

  Not wanting to be distracted by the small talk and grumblings, she squared her shoulders and shifted her chin slightly to the left and immediately continued. The friendly smile was still present, but the tone of her voice indicated business only, “I would like to talk with you for a little while and ask for your help. This ship has been suffering a sustained loss of cargo of between three to five percent on each and every shipment, whether the shipment is coming into or departing London.”

  Several in the crew unconsciously or guiltily shuffled from foot to foot, but they quieted and continued to listen to the unusually knowledgeable young woman before them. “This is very unfair to your captain and his officers, but even more unfair to you, the crew. It is unfair because, as the captain is the ultimate head of the ship, with him also resides the ultimate responsibility for its crew and cargo.”

  As all eyes turned unsurely to gage the reaction of the captain, Elizabeth continued, “I am suggesting that you all share the responsibility for all those aboard and the cargo . . .” The grumbling increased, and some of the crew pushed their fists into the air, but she smiled brightly and continued without raising her voice, “and the profits.”

  As the crew, to the man, again fell silent, one boatswain elbowed the man standing beside him and muttered behind a weathered hand, “What did she just say? Something about profits?” Facing Elizabeth again, he inquired, “Aye. Say again, Miss.”

  “And the profits,” repeated Elizabeth in the same firm tone, while an even brighter smile lit her face. Having regained their attention, she pushed on not wishing to lose the ground that she had painstakingly just won. “Now, since the losses have been ranging between three to five percent, I suggest a bonus of two percent of the value of the cargo for each shipment delivered safely, to be equally divided between the captain, officers, and crew.

  “To earn the bonus, the crew will choose three officers, any that you can ALL agree upon. Officers, you, in turn, must choose three crewmembers, again any that you can all agree upon. There will be three teams made up of one officer and one crewman. Team one will be original receipt, the second team will be departure from ship, and the third team will be delivery. There will be three copies of each manifest listing the content of the cargo being shipped. The first team will oversee the initial loading of the cargo onto the ship from the supplier and verify that each of the three copies of the manifest is accurate and identical to the others.

  “One copy of the manifest will be signed and sealed by both officer and crewman of the first team and then given to the captain. The two remaining copies will be sealed and given to the members of both the second and third teams. The second team will make note of any differences between the original count and the actual cargo as it is removed from the ship, then seal the manifest and deliver it to the captain. The third team will make note of any differences between the original count and the actual cargo as it is delivered into the hands at the warehouse. The seals for the first and second team will be maintained by the crewman of each team. The captain will deliver the two manifests within his possession to the warehouse for comparison with the final manifest.”

  Gently catching a lock of hair that had been blown across her face by the sea breeze, she unconsciously tucked it behind her ear as she again directed her attention to the stunned faces before her. “There will be one percent of difference allowed. Cargo losses of more than that will result in a proportional adjustment to the amount of bonus to be paid, based solely upon the circumstances for the loss. The bonus will be brought to the ship by my personal representative the day after the cargo has been verified by the receiving warehouse.

  “If you agree to these terms, I would like to make an additional offer.” Seeing before her now an almost immobile group, attention fixed on her, she spoke in the same controlled voice that she had used all along. “For those of you who cannot read or write, I personally will provide a tutor to assist you in your endeavor, either on board ship or at our warehouse. It will be up to you whether or not you avail yourself of the opportunity.”

  A smile now lighting her ent
ire face, she allowed her voice to rise in volume slightly: “And I make one final offer to you. At the end of each year, I will make the financial records of this ship, along with each set of manifests, available for your review, and will return to the ship one percent of ALL yearly profits. These profits will be distributed equally among all those who have remained loyal to ‘The Tempest’ throughout the year.”

  Elizabeth looked eagerly over her shoulder at her husband for his approval. As he winked and nodded his head to her, she turned back, “I would appreciate your answer by tomorrow morning. Thank you all.”

  As she gathered her skirts with one hand and reached for her husband’s arm with the other, preparing to step down from the platform, the crewmember that seemed to be the unofficial head of the crew stated succinctly, “You may have my answer now, if you please.”

  Startled, Elizabeth turned back to him and saw him remove his cap, slowly drop to one knee, and bow toward her. Stunned by such a show of subservience and for once not knowing what to say, she watched as everyone before her, captain included, dropped to one knee and bowed. With tears in her eyes, Elizabeth dropped to curtsy to them in turn. “Thank you,” she nearly gasped on the cusp of a sob.