By Lady Carlton née Katie O’Roarke, heroine of “The Blonde Samurai”
In Episode 1, we met Temerity Whitechapel, a lass of one and twenty who pines to receive her first kiss…but finds herself in a turmoil when a handsome gentleman shows up at her manor house, wishing to buy her property.
She sends him away, much to her regret.
Temerity was yet in a stage of anticipation, a moist heat growing in her sex, when Captain Jack Longhorn returned the next day.
Looking even more handsome.
‘Twas no wonder then she behaved rashly when he said with a disarming smile that sent intoxicating sensations through her, “And you still refuse to sell, Miss Whitechapel?”
“Yes,” Temerity said, affecting the defiant posture of a woman in control of her fate. Tall, straight, hands on her hips.
If the truth be known, a mischievous purpose lay behind that single affirmation. She hoped that her refusal to sell would bring the handsome captain back every day so she might continue to gaze upon his broad shoulders and handsome face.
And if she dared, imagine him delicately rubbing her mound then moving lower, massaging her pink flesh, her nub hard and throbbing, until her breathing became ragged and she begged him to–
No, first he would kiss her. A naughty kiss.
She imagined herself engaged in a long act of surrender, her breasts crushed against his hard chest, his hand cupping her chin and bringing his lips down on hers and making her groan with pleasure–
But her charming plan was destined to go astray.
“I fear you have no choice in the matter, Miss Whitechapel,” the Captain said, the dimple in his chin widening. “You must sell.”
Why did he appear so sure of himself?
Her lips parted and a dryness caught in her throat. “Sir, what are you about?”
“According to the original Crown grant signed by King John, Mottersby Manor and all the land surrounding it can be confiscated by the local government…” he paused, then said with emphasis, “If there is no male heir.”
“I am not aware of any such ancient land grant, Captain,” she sputtered, a coldness smacking her cheeks and making them go pale. True, she was her grandfather’s only living relation, but how could such a thing be true?
He smiled. “Neither was I until I checked the old vault in the local magistrate’s office holding the original land grants for the county.”
He handed her the brown-tinged old parchment affixed with the royal signature and seal, leaving no doubt what he said was true.
“And, pray, what do you propose to do, Captain Longhorn?” she said, thrusting it back at him, knowing her staunch refusal to sell was in tatters. She would never admit that inwardly she sanctioned such a sale. She was pleased to be freed from her promise to her grandfather.
“My company doesn’t wish to stir up trouble, Miss Whitechapel. Nor do I,” he said with a sense of duty that surprised her. “If you will affix your signature here,” he pulled out an official bill of sale, “I shall destroy the original grant–”
Temerity’s cheeks blushed a deep pink, her chest rising and falling with agitation. He was ruining her plan.
She had to act now.
She lifted up her chin, determined to get her way. “Since you leave me no choice, I shall do as you ask, sir…”
He smiled, relieved.
“But,” she added, tilting up her chin, “it will cost your railway company more than the purchase price you have quoted me.”
Wary, Captain Jack stared at her, trying to read her intentions. “I am not at liberty to offer you more money, Miss Whitechapel.”
“My price is not beyond your…capabilities, Captain.” She sounded more than confident than she felt and fought hard to keep her voice from trembling.
Curious, he ventured forth with: “And what is your price?”
“A kiss, sir,” she blurted out, arching her back and thrusting out her breasts as if they would break free from the confines that bound them. “But not just any kiss. A delicious, naughty kiss that will make me quiver and shake and beg for more.”
He drew in his breath, thinking over what she said for what seemed to her an unconscionably long time. “And if I refuse?”
She drew the pistol out of the pocket of her voluminous skirt. “Than I shall blow a hole through your…trousers.” She aimed at his crotch. “I warn you, Captain, I am not a clean shot and I could miss.”
“Miss Whitechapel…” He circled around her, tapping the bill of sale against his thigh as if he itched to grab the pistol staring him in the face. “From your desperate measures, I am wont to believe you have never been kissed.”
She lowered her chin, but not her pistol. “Your words are remiss, Captain, for I am quite experienced in the art of amour,” she lied, then she tried to cover up the falsehood with: “Shall we proceed?”
He smiled widely. “No, though I admit any man would find it difficult to resist such a heartrending plea.”
Her smug smile disappeared. “Am I to understand that you will not kiss me?”
He nodded. “I will not take advantage of a lonely woman who has obviously been reading too many romances.”
Her look of disappointment quickly turned to anger. She should be insulted by his words, but something in his voice, in the way he looked at her with a tenderness she had ne’er seen before in a man’s eyes, as if he understood her pain, touched her heart.
But pride is another thing, dear lady reader, and Temerity was filled with as much pride as she was loneliness.
Fired up with reckless intent, the heat of her denied passion overwhelming her, she said, “Then I challenge you to a duel, Captain Longhorn.”
“A duel. With pistols.”
“You insulted me. I heard you call me a frumpy old spinster.”
He grinned. “Are you refuting that fact?”
“I am.” She raised up her petticoats. As scarlet as the invisible letter she dared to wear, even if she hadn’t earned it. “No frumpy spinster wears scarlet petticoats, Captain Longhorn.”
“You amaze me, Miss Whitechapel, but I stand true to my word. I am not going to shoot pistols with you.”
“You can’t run away from a duel, Captain,” she said, smiling and eager to bait him. “Unless you enjoy being the subject of local gossip about how you backed down to a woman.”
He smirked. “A vixen In scarlet petticoats is a more apt description.” He clenched his fists. “You won’t get away with it.”
“Won’t I?” She cocked an eyebrow in defiance. “I shall tell them that you threatened my person.”
“You’re blackmailing me, Miss Whitechapel.”
“That I am, Captain.” She opened the velvet-covered box and handed him a pistol. “I assure you, it’s loaded.”
He checked the chamber. “I should take my hand to your backside for this silly game of yours…”
Perhaps she had been too hasty?
He came closer, his sensual presence overpowering her in a manner she found disturbing, but she didn’t back down. He said, “But since my reputation is at stake…among other things.”
She pulled back the hammer on the pistol. “Shall we say, twenty…no ten paces? The drawing room is bit drafty at the far end and you might catch cold when I blow a hole through you.”
His face tightened, his rugged features twisting with a perplexity that intrigued her, made her wish that he would forget about her virtue and kiss her hard and long. “I prefer twenty–”
She grinned. “Then you are fearful I will hit my mark?”
She pointed her pistol at his groin and, to her delight he cringed, though the dash of madness she saw in his eyes alerted her that he was no fool. He intended to see how far she would go.
Temerity pulled in her breath. How far would she go?
What do you think, dear lady reader? Will Temerity go through with the duel? It would be a pity to blow a hole through the…reputation of a gentleman with the roguish appeal of Captain Jack Longhorn. What would you do?
Return Friday for the riotous–and if you will excuse the phrase–climax of my scandalous tale and find out!
===== End of Episode 2 =====
The Blonde Samurai
“She embraced the way of the warrior. Two swords. Two loves.”