Chapter Text
Felix and Pepa were married the following week, Felix insisted on bucking tradition again and held a lavish ball in celebration. Julieta was able to enjoy three waltzes with the good doctor and no one commented on the impropriety.
The Earl was just as stingy as Felix had predicted he would be, easily forgetting how his own son had been there for him in his time of need, and not even embarrassed when Bruno told him of Felix’s gift. Instead he embraced it as something a dear old friend would do. Augustine left the meeting determined to never talk to the man again. The only silver lining was Julieta’s presence, and how she was able to wheedle more out of him than either Bruno or himself thought possible.
The Earl did not bother to attend his wedding, claiming the Encanto was too far to travel and he had important business in London. Yet somehow, his wife and daughters managed the trip without incident. Needless to say, Arthur and Georgiana were not invited.
The wedding itself was cozy and intimate. Mrs Stewart was there, looking on with an expression that was both joyous and bewildered. Lucy and John Lucas were polar opposites in their agreeableness, and little Alfred Little bawled at the loss of his greatest love. He still made sure to give her a bouquet of wildflowers and in return was given a peck on the cheek by the bride for his thoughtfulness.
Julieta did manage to find them a place in the Encanto in which to live. And that was Casita herself. It was Bruno’s idea. Julieta was already the de facto duke, so why not stay in his seat and control the dukedom from there? With Nigel still healing, Bruno did not wish to leave Town. Pepa was married, enjoying being the mistress of Felix’s grand house, and Alma floated between all of her children, staying with each for months at a time.
Bruno visited from time to time with Nigel, on the premise of continuing the research with her plants and teas. Augustine and Julieta were happy to keep their secret, surprising and delighting them when they explained it wasn’t necessary for them to hide their affection in their presence.
Their pamphlet was published to rave reviews, although medicine was not prepared to begin taking advice from a woman and the progress of expanding treatment options was slowed by prejudice. But they kept at it, because Augustine wanted all of her brilliance saved for the ages. Someday, someone would appreciate her hard work and he wanted to ensure she got credit for it.
Arthur did eventually recover from his injuries, although as there was no cure for the pox, it caused him a slow decline as he refused any medical treatment whatsoever. Three months after Augustine and Julieta’s wedding Georgiana fell pregnant. And three months after that, Arthur suffered an apoplexy while in bed with Georgiana’s brother Percy. He lingered for a week. There was nothing the doctors could do. Augustine ignored his father’s appeals for help. London was too far to travel and he had important business in the Encanto.
He did, however, attend the funeral, with his wife, in support of his mother. Augusta was possibly the only person present who genuinely lamented his loss. Augustine did mourn the loss of the idea of an older brother who loved and protected him. The potential had always been there, but Arthur was too self centered and narcissistic, and so his legacy was nothing but pain and disappointment.
Augustine did not automatically become the Viscount due to Georgiana’s pregnancy. If she was carrying a boy, he would be the heir. Once again, Augustine came in second, but he did not mind. He was quite content with his life in the Encanto. He and Julieta were flourishing. The people of the Encanto were coming to trust him more everyday. He made a point of staying in his office, which was now his thanks to his marriage, every day during the week. He prescribed Julieta’s teas more often than not. And every night, he and Julieta enjoyed each other more than he could have ever imagined. He was in heaven, with his Angel.
When she wasn’t dealing with the business of the dukedom, Julieta could be found in her hothouse or taking long walks with Augustine or driving him around behind Hiro. They visited Norville when the weather warmed, Augustine making love to her in the same place they had first kissed. It was an idyllic existence. She had not been this happy since she was a child, spending every day playing with her triplets.
She did miss them. Two pieces of herself were absent for long stretches of time. But life must go on, and it helped knowing they were both deliriously happy with their loves, just as she was.
Georgiana delivered a baby boy whom she named Arthur. Augustine breathed a sigh of relief knowing he could continue as he had been, a life free of the responsibility of a Viscount. According to Augusta, the babe looked just like his father, but she didn’t specify if she meant Arthur or Victor. If his mother was pleased with her first legitimate grandchild then he was too.
Within a month he received a letter from Georgiana seeking his expertise, as there seemed to be something amiss with the boy. He was not gaining weight and he had developed an odd rash. Augustine and Julieta immediately suspected the child had been exposed to the pox and began researching all of her available resources on how to save him. He may have been the product of two people they detested, but young Arthur was also an innocent, and did not deserve the fate his parents had given him. Together, they brought more of her teas and tinctures than they would need and made the journey to London.
Julieta almost burst into tears when she first encountered her nephew. He was at death's door and he hadn’t made it to two months yet. Georgiana was concerned, but only in as much as how it would keep her tethered as the dowager. The poor babe’s eyes were oozing with a greenish yellow discharge. His skin was yellow, and wrinkled everywhere it should be plump, pink, and fat.
Together with his wet nurse, they held him for warmth, cleaned his eyes prodigiously, used different poltices on his rash and willed him to life. But it was a losing battle from the start. His tiny body didn’t have the strength to fight such an aggressive infection.
“Augie,” Georgiana came to him after he had passed the baby off to Julieta, “are you sure these treatments will work? What will I do if I lose him? It will be like losing Arthur all over again.” She brought her black lace handkerchief up to blot at her dry eyes.
“Right now, all we can do is pray. As long as he has breath, we will try and we will hope.”
“Why is this happening to him?”
“Are you sure you really want the truth?” He sighed, doubting she would ever accept accountability, even though the real blame lay with a dead man.
“Now is not the time to tell me your family carries a condition that causes deformities and disease,” she said plainly, and without any hint of mirth or teasing.
He watched her for several moments, trying to discern if her question was legitimate and serious. She did not smile, and seemed to take his silence as confirmation. She huffed off before allowing him to speak.
The following day, when Augustine and Julieta arrived to take over from the wet nurse, they found the Countess, singing softly to her grandson, rocking him in the chair. The boy seemed weaker, but he still lived, so Julieta took him to redress his rash.
“Augie,” his mother took him aside, “whatever did you say to Georgiana yesterday? She came over last evening to discuss some business with your father, and shortly thereafter left. He was absolutely beside himself afterwards and cursed you to the moon and back!”
“To be frank, I told her nothing. She wanted to know why young Arthur suffers so, but never gave me the opportunity to explain that it is likely the pox he picked up from her during his birth. She assumed that our family has some disease that we pass on to all our babes, or some other such nonsense that is easily disproved by my own existence.”
“The pox? You truly think that’s what it is?” She looked stricken.
“I’m afraid so. I saw several cases of it when I was in the army. Not just the soldiers but the women who followed the camps and the babes they bore,” he sighed. He’d been doing a lot of that lately. “ If the child survived, it was usually permanently scarred, or blinded. It is a cruel fate indeed.”
“My love,” Julieta’s soft voice came up beside him, “we need to find Georgiana. I do not believe he will survive the day,” her voice was thick with unshed tears as she wiped the pus from his tiny eye with a kerchief.
Augustine lifted his nephew and could hear how he struggled to breath, how his lips had taken a light blue tint from a lack of oxygen, and he knew that Julieta was right. It was almost painful to watch him, how his tiny chest heaved, even underneath the swaddle. He gently handed him back to his grandmother, “here Mother, watch over him until we can locate Georgiana.”
It took them several hours to locate her. She was not in the house. They sent messages to her sisters, her mother, and her father in search of her, as well as to the Earl and Augustine’s sisters. She eventually waltzed in with a footman in tow carrying several packages, surprised to see her mother and other members of her family having tea with Julieta. They all gave her grave and solemn stares as she greeted them.
Augustine came up to her before she could remove her bonnet. With such an audience she played the role of grieving mother to a t. The wet nurse brought her the tiny body of her son and she wept over his frail, cold remains.
Julieta took her husband home shortly after, holding his head in her lap as he wept. She hadn’t realized how much hope he had placed in young Arthur, or how much change the young boy’s death was sure to bring them. For herself, watching a child die was heart wrenching. It brought back memories of Pepa’s son. Another life snuffed out before it had a chance to bloom.
In the short time she had known her nephew, once the life left him and his features could finally relax from the pure torture he had suffered under, she could see how much he took after Arthur. There was something in the turn of his nose that reminded her of Augusta. This warmed her heart a little, thinking that Arthur won that last battle with his father. Not that she was picking sides. But sometimes it was easier to sympathize with the dead.
Pulling up to her mother’s house, who had insisted they stay with her while they nursed poor little Arthur, Julieta calmly instructed Thomas to wait to hand them out. She continued to murmur sweet words of comfort to her distraught husband. He seemed inconsolable and her heart broke for him. As he quieted, she had to know, “my love, what troubles you so?”
It took him many minutes to wipe his eyes and find the right words, “oh Julieta, we were so happy, doing what we both loved in the Encanto. And now…now everything must change. We can no longer choose what we wish to do. We are slaves to my inheritance.”
She pondered his words. He was worried and scared. He had not been trained to be the heir. He had been pushed aside and told to find his own way in the world. And now, he was the heir. He was the Viscount. He must give up the freedom he had once known to take up the mantle of his family name. She could feel the uncertainty and terror that rolled off of him.
She ran her fingers through his hair, “I will not let you falter, Augustine. Together, I know we can weather this.”
He sat up to look into her eyes, his puffy and waterlogged. He stared for some time and she tried to pass onto him her confidence in him. “Oh amor, I so desperately want to believe you.”
“And you should. You are the most competent man I know. If there was ever a man more capable of becoming an Earl, it is you. And I will be there to support you, every step of the way.”
His eyebrows peaked in sorrow as he took in her words. “But we will have to leave the Encanto. Your hothouse…everything that makes you happy.”
“Ay Augustine,” she gave him a reassuring smile, “ you make me happy. Without you, none of that means anything.” She put her hand on his jaw to stroke his cheek with her thumb.
The tears ran fresh down his face at her words. “I am so sorry the life I had planned and hoped for us…has turned to dust.”
“Augustine, as long as we are together, there is no dust.” She leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Together, we can conquer whatever comes our way. We are an excellent team, remember? Do not be afraid that I am second guessing our life together.”
He pressed his face into her chest, between her breasts, breathing her in as his arms wrapped around her waist. She could only embrace him in his turmoil. “I love you so much Julieta. In this moment, all I wish to do is run. Take you far away. To America or Canada. So that it’s just you and I. Just you and I.” He sobbed once more.
Running her hand up and down his back, the other cupping his head, pulling him into her, she wished for nothing more than to absorb his pain and uncertainty. She would simply have to be patient. And love him through his torment and fear. Hopeful that someday he would see his inheritance as less of a curse.
It was a scary and unnerving prospect. The past year had been just about as close to heaven as she could have ever imagined. But the wonderful thing about life was that it must and will change. The era of bliss was passing and a new chapter was beginning.
Victor pointedly ignored Augustine through the funeral arrangements, more so than he was accustomed. His mother was not oblivious, but Victor rarely confided in her anymore and was gone from home more often than not since Arthur’s passing. As his distance from his family grew, his alcohol intake increased in equivalence. She wished she could say she and her girls missed him.
She had to chuckle when Augustine had tried to warn her, very disjointedly and with much embarrassment on his end, to avoid having relations with Victor back when he had discovered Victor and Georgiana’s affair. She had actually laughed, “oh son, your father hasn’t touched me since he claimed Victoria and Louisa had stretched me so much I was a “terrible fuck”,” and she giggled again as he blushed to his ears. She did not miss Victor’s touch in the slightest. He had been an indifferent and selfish lover and it took her having her own, discreet and passionate, love affair to truly understand his inadequacies. Let Georgiana have him, she thought.
But now, with Augustine thrust into this new and unexpected role, she knew her son would need his father’s guidance. It was Victor’s error at never including his second born in the education he might need to succeed him if it became necessary. For running an Earldom was no easy task and one did not simply step into the role naively, lest they run it to ruin. As it was already on the precipice, she feared what the future might hold with it in Augustine’s untutored hands.
However, Victor seemed uninterested or uninspired to take Augustine under his wing. Her anger at his indifference grew until she could bite her tongue no longer. It was not only an Earldom’s future at stake; It was hers and her daughters’ as well as Augustine’s children and grandchildren. She knew Augustine had a sound and intelligent brain between his ears and Julieta was pragmatic and resourceful. Of any of her children he was the most likely to succeed and possibly reverse the Earldom’s slide into oblivion. All Victor needed to do was give his son some guidance. A place to start. Something.
“My Lord,” she walked into his study unannounced hours after they slid her grandson’s tiny coffin into the family vault next to his father, “I wish to speak with you on a matter of great importance.” She would not take no for an answer.
Victor was slumped in his chair, an empty glass on the desk next to an equally empty decanter. But he was awake. And he looked at her with hooded eyes, barely acknowledging her presence.
“Augustine and Julieta plan to stay through the week. When will you begin mentoring your heir?”
Victor simply looked at her, seemingly unable or unwilling to let her words have meaning. “If you do not pick a time, then I will. Mr Peabody has already made arrangements in preparation.”
“Well, if Peabody will be there, they will have no need of me,” he picked up his empty glass and tipped it to his mouth to find the last drops.
“Your family needs you in this moment of transition, Victor. Your son, especially, will need your support and direction.”
Victor snorted as he slammed down his glass, “my son,” his laugh was cold, “My son lies cold and dead this past half year. I may have an heir, but I do not have a son.”
“What is your dispute with Augustine?! He has done nothing but everything you have ever asked of him! And now he holds the family’s future in his hands, yet you continue to shun him, when he needs you most.”
“Do not lecture me Augusta, I am in no mood-“
“When are you ever in the mood Victor?! It is time for you to take some responsibility as head of this family before everything falls to ruin. Here is your chance to right the ship before it flounders. To make good on the promise you made your mother on her deathbed-“
“Do not bring Mama into this!” He choked back a sob. She hated to bring up her mother-in-law, but she was the only person Victor ever truly listened to about anything. If Victor had ever been capable of loving a human being that wasn’t himself, she was the lone example. And in Augusta’s opinion the woman was just as much a narcissist as Victor. All she ever did was withhold her love and affection from him whenever he begged her for it. The two of them had been quite a pair and a horrible example for her children to see. Thank goodness the woman had detested young children and only Arthur had ever had the opportunity to know her long enough to remember her.
“For your mother’s sake, please help your heir before it is too late.”
“Damn it Augusta, if you don’t leave this room immediately I will smash this glass into your decrepit face!”
“You are pathetic,” and with her chin raised high, she left. As she closed the door, she heard the glass shatter against it on the other side, “and have poor aim.”
Imagine Augustine’s surprise when he was summoned to his father’s house two days later. He had been in his favorite place, his face buried between Julieta’s thighs and lapping up her essence, enjoying her sounds and completely engulfed by her smell and taste. She had been quietly reading in her favorite chair by the fire when he strolled in after breakfast, setting the post on the table beside her. She had looked so lovely, he could do nothing but fall to his knees before her and dive under her skirts.
The knock on the door went unnoticed by them as he inserted a finger into her warmth. Her fingers threaded into his hair as her thighs began to shake. The second knock was louder and caused him to pause his ministrations with his tongue. She groaned in disappointment as he pulled his head up. “We’ll be with you in a moment,” he yelled without removing his finger. He waggled his eyebrows at her before diving back in, not caring how long he would make the person wait. His Angel deserved to cum, however long it took, and he enjoyed stringing out the sweet torture.
He sucked her clit into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue as he curled his finger inside of her, pumping in and out. She began grinding into his face, her juices coating his chin and sliding down his neck. “Ay Augustine,” she moaned as her breathing picked up.
Adding a second finger, he sped up his tongue and she screamed her release. He stayed with her until her fluttering subsided and she grabbed him behind the ears gently to bring him to her lips to kiss him deeply. Her tongue darted out to lick herself off his chin. “How did you know I had been thinking of you?” She whispered as he slowly removed his fingers and righted her dress.
“I am never not thinking of you amor,” his voice raspy with desire and arousal.
“I shall have to return the favor after we answer the door,” she purred as she slowly pushed him back, fixing his hair from where she had tousled it, and rising. He adjusted himself while pulling out his handkerchief to clean his face and hand.
“I am always up for that,” he smirked.
But she didn't have the chance as they must leave at once to meet with his father. Although the missive had only requested his presence, he was not about to leave her behind when he knew he would be depending on her experience in the future. Whatever his father needed to say, he would say it to the both of them.
Victor sat behind the desk, Mr Peabody had a seat to the right, and with only one remaining chair, Augustine pulled it out for his wife. Victor openly glared at her, an unusual response as he had usually tolerated her presence previously. “The Countess is in the drawing room,” he said gruffly as she sat.
“Yes, I had the pleasure of seeing her when we arrived,” coolly she met his stare and refused to be intimidated.
Mr Peabody looked nervously between the three of them before breaking the silent tension and getting started. Augustine located another chair and brought it to the desk. He sat quietly, trying to take in all of the information the solicitor was explaining. It was quite overwhelming and he was grateful when Julieta would ask pertinent questions. His father sat in silence, not even bothering to add anything even when Mr Peabody requested his input.
Mr Peabody eventually found himself solely addressing Julieta as she seemed to be the only one in the room who could or would understand him. Augustine had completely lost track of the conversation as so much of it was vocabulary he was unfamiliar with. Victor was pouring his third glass out of the decanter and no longer listening at all.
But what Augustine did grasp was just how much his father had sunk the financial foundation of the Earldom, as if he had a complete disregard for his descendants and their survival. Augustine had known it was bad. But he could never have imagined it was in such a sad state.
His role as viscount was simply honorific. He had no say over what his father was doing or could do in the future. He simply had to know what to do when he would eventually take over. But at this rate, he wasn’t sure there would be anything left to control when his time did come.
His father had sold or leased just about every property he owned. The house in London was heavily mortgaged, the country estate in such a state of disrepair it was impossible to lease. And these were both entailed. Someday they would be his, and he would most likely have to raze the one instead of trying to put it to rights.
His father rose and walked over to the mantle to stare into the fire. Augustine let his head drop into his hands, so completely overwhelmed he wanted to scream. Julieta and Mr Peabody were speaking quietly about the mortgages and who held them.
His father, like Arthur, had always been the presumed heir. He had been raised and educated to take over the family holdings from a very young age. He ought to have known better. It should never have sunk this low. Augustine even wondered if it was worth it to try and save it at this point. He could revert it back to the crown when he inherited and be done with it. It would certainly be dishonorable, but no more so than mortgaging it all away.
His wife and Mr Peabody were now working through some calculations, he chuckled to himself at how adorable she looked when she was concentrating on her investments. At least someone was enjoying themselves.
He rose and approached his father. “My Lord,” he couldn’t bring himself to call the man father after everything that had transpired between them, “why? Why did you let it get so out of hand?” He tried to keep his voice level and calm. He was not trying to be provocative, he simply wanted an explanation.
His father stared at the flames for a long time, and Augustine was beginning to believe he hadn’t heard him or was purposefully ignoring him. But he was a patient man, and he would have an answer.
His father finally looked up, “it was this way when I inherited it.” He shrugged looking down at the dwindling golden liquid in his glass. “I tried for years to reverse it, but my efforts were never enough.” He glanced at Augustine before adding, “Arthur,” he coughed trying to hide the emotion in his voice, “had a grand scheme, all prepared to go. I am confident it would have saved us. We were just about to start when he…” Victor shook his head, his jaw clenching. “But you refused to help. You stayed away and left him to die! So now I will leave this hulking mess for you. And I may even dig it in deeper with the time I have left, just to add salt to the wound.” He spat into the fire and turned back to his desk.
“I didn’t let Arthur die. He had the pox! He refused treatment and it killed him. There was nothing I or any other physician could have done to save him after his apoplexy. And he wouldn’t have allowed me to touch him anyway, you know that yet you blame his demise on me! He is gone due to his own poor decisions and inability to not give in to temptation. Not only that, but he gave the pox to Georgiana who in turn passed it to your grandchild. It is the reason we had to bury him this week! His tiny body couldn’t fight it. He never even had a chance.” He took a breath and added, “She probably shared it with you as well.”
His father stared at him, absorbing his outburst. “You lie. What a preposterous thing to say about your dead brother. How dare you malign his name when he can no longer defend himself. Besides, it is impossible! The pox only afflicts the beggars and whores.”
Augustine stepped up to the man, “you know I speak the truth.” He grabbed his wrist quickly, snatching the glove off his hand. “One does not get sores on one’s hand like this,” and he held it up in front of his father’s face, “without getting the pox first. And the pox does not care if you’re an orphan or the king himself.”
He watched as the blood drained from the Earl’s face, a bittersweet sort of satisfaction over taking him as he dropped his hand and shoved the glove into his chest.
“How…how could she have passed it to me? I hardly know her outside of her being my son’s wife!”
Augustine shook his head. “Do I really need to spell it out for you?”
“Yes, if you’re going to make accusations such as that!”
“Such as what?” He asked calmly.
“You’re accusing me of having relations with my son’s widow!”
“Accusing? I was under the impression it was common knowledge,” he kept his face neutral even though he was enjoying watching the vein pop out on the Earl’s forehead.
“I’ve punched Arthur for less,” he said through clenched teeth as he stepped closer threateningly.
Augustine stood his ground, unsure why his father was so intent on picking a fight with him. “Most of the words out of Arthur’s mouth were verifiably untrue.”
“But yours are?”
Augustine raised his eyebrows and stared at the man in front of him, already unsteady on his feet and no longer the intimidating man he had once feared. “Apparently only you would know.”
“Damn right,” he adjusted his coat and stepped back, “damn right,” he repeated to himself.
Augustine made eye contact with his wife, who was watching with a keen interest. Mr Peabody looked unwell, as if he wanted to be anywhere else. The Earl walked back to the desk and refilled his glass. “Well Peabody,” he slurred, “have we covered all that was necessary?”
“No, Lady Julieta-“
“Good, good,” Victor cut him off and stumbled out of the library, sloshing his beverage on the carpet.
“Your father is not handling the loss of his son well,” Julieta commented, a tinge of sadness in her voice.
“It’s been almost a year, you’d think time would have taken some of the sting out of it.”
“My lord,” Mr Peabody cut into his musings, “I was just about finished up but your wife has brought several miscalculations to my attention. I will need to head back to my office and pull out some of the deeds.” He was stacking his papers and continued mumbling about Julieta’s multiple discoveries and insights, soon losing him once more. He hoped Julieta would explain it to him later.
She was watching him and when his overtaxed and confused visage met hers she giggled at him. “Why are you in such a good mood?” He smiled back.
“As Mr Peabody just explained we have a possible plan to cease the hemorrhaging. It depends on a few factors that we cannot confirm or deny here, but there is hope that, one day, when you inherit, we can return the Earldom to its former glory. If we are correct, we could begin the process tomorrow, but your father does not seem terribly amenable to taking financial advice from…anybody.”
“Amor, didn’t you hear him? He and Arthur had a scheme . If only the other genius had lived to see it through! Who needs financial advisors when those two are in charge?”
“Sarcasm usually becomes you, but don’t allow your frustrations to keep you from hearing us,” she gently reprimanded him, “we are not in jest. It seems someone, about thirty years ago, did something underhanded to your grandfather, I’d guess, causing the spiral that has brought your father so low. But we do not have all of the documents to confirm it.”
“That’s assuming the documents actually exist,” Mr Peabody corrected. “And if they don’t, it seems your brother-in-law, his grace, appears to be the largest shareholder on at least three of these mortgages. Small world,” he chuckled to himself.
After Mr Peabody had left he leaned down to her, “amor, how long have you been purchasing shares of my father’s mortgages?”
She smiled, “after Arthur passed, I decided to look into the matter and felt it might be a wonderful gift to my nephew when he reached his majority. But,” and she took a deep breath, “I must admit it was more selfish than that and I’m not terribly proud of it.” She looked down at a loose thread on her glove. “At Arthur’s funeral, when the women all gathered afterwards, I noticed Georgiana’s bare hands during tea, and just as you did today, I realized she too was infected.”
“And you extrapolated that the baby would be as well when he was born,” he finished for her when she seemed overcome. She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He wasn’t angry, but he wasn’t pleased at being kept in the dark on something that affected his family.
“About Georgiana or my investments?”
“Both, actually, although Georgiana’s condition would not have surprised me in the least.”
“Honestly, when we are together my investments are not at the forefront of my mind and I kept waiting for your father to notice and confront Bruno, ending it before I could get very far. I’ve been attempting discretion, a few hundred pounds here, a few hundred pounds there, as I have no intention of embarrassing him. But truly, I should be the full owner of this house in three years, or, I suppose Bruno will be. I am sorry I have neglected to inform you, but until this week, it did not affect us.”
He really didn’t know how to respond.
“You are upset with me,” she looked at him with her large brown eyes, full of remorse.
He ran his fingers through his hair and paced in front of her for several moments, trying to organize his thoughts.
“No, it isn’t you I am cross with,” he finally spoke. “I am distraught and disgusted at the dire straits my father will be leaving our family’s legacy in. Although I would have preferred you had told me your plans, as it affects our future and my mother and sisters’.”
“Of course, my love. It was wrong of me to keep silent, and I had planned to tell you when we returned home. I never expected your father to give us an audience today.”
“Nor did I,” he smiled reassuringly at her, “apparently you found it quite educational.”
“It’s quite the amazing mess. You know how I adore a challenge,” she practically purred.
He sighed and shook his head good naturedly, “well, then there is hope. With you in charge, I don’t doubt I will see the name of Bogota be resurrected from the purgatory it currently resides in.” He bent to kiss her lightly, “come, I’m sure mother is anxiously awaiting our report of what has transpired.”
Later that evening as they lay cuddled together, Julieta remembered a piece of gossip Valentina had shared with her at tea while Augustine was at the piano with Victoria. “I am beginning to wonder if your father’s excessive increase in drinking this week was due to something other than losing his grandson,” she had her head propped on her hand as she lay on her side, her finger tracing patterns in his chest hair.
“Oh?” He turned to face her, willing his refractory period to speed up, as he took his thumb to gently wipe his cum off the side of her mouth.
“The day before young Arthur passed, Georgiana made an unexpected visit to your father. I have it on authority from Valentina that Georgiana was usually far more discreet with her visits, never coming announced by the butler, but sneaking in through the kitchen.”
“Obviously she was not discreet enough,” he moved his hand down to palm her breast.
“Obviously. But last week, she came in the front door and requested a private meeting with Victor. Oh!” She moaned as he pinched her nipple between his thumb and index finger.
He bent his head to replace his fingers with his lips, “go on,” he said with a mouth full of breast.
“Mmm,” she cleared her throat, “it was not private as they left the door open.”
He lifted his head to look into her eyes, “please tell me my sister did not have to witness them together as you did.”
She shook her head and he smiled before pushing her onto her back so he could torment her other breast, “but she did get to hear Georgiana accuse him of…god…of lying to her.”
He chuckled, the vibrations running from her nipple down to her sex and she arched into him involuntarily. “Lying? What else could she not have known?”
Sliding his hand lightly down her stomach, he cupped her mound, rubbing her clit with his thumb. She sighed, “she claimed you told her the reason that Arthur….oh please Augustine…” he obliged by sticking a finger inside and sliding it in and out, “the reason the baby was sick was because you had a terrible…” she sucked in a breath as he removed his finger and rolled himself over her.
“Ah yes, mother told me about that the following day,” he lined himself up with her entrance and slowly slid inside her waiting heat, “how was that a lie when I never said any such thing?” It was a rhetorical question.
“She asked him to stop seeing her. That she no longer wished to fuck him,” she wrapped her legs around his waist to bring him deeper, her lips finding his.
“Ah, so his cold little heart is broken,” He began pounding his hips into her in earnest and she arched her back, clutching him to her, “and it’s. All. My. fault.” He spoke each word with a thrust. She lost all train of thought as her body was consumed by pleasure. His head came down to kiss her along her neck, finding that sweet spot between her neck and shoulder, sucking on it lightly.
She moved her hips and flipped them, her hair curtaining her body. Gently he moved her hair behind her back and his hands cupped her breasts as she began riding him, her hands pressed into his chest. She felt her orgasm building low in her abdomen and he brought his thumb down to rub her clit just the way he knew she liked it, while his other hand grabbed onto the flesh of her hip as he pounded her from beneath.
Her orgasm hit her unexpectedly and she yelled his name as it consumed her, the tingling radiating to her fingertips. She collapsed on top of his chest and he rolled them again, thrusting into her harder, losing his rhythm as he chased his own climax. A few more pumps and he grunted, spilling into her. She looked at him adoringly and sleepily from underneath, “I love you Julieta,” he leaned down to kiss her before rolling to his side so as not to crush her.
He had not pulled out yet and she continued their roll so she was laying on her stomach staring into his eyes, propping her chin on her hands. “My love, I have a confession.”
“You’re pregnant?” He smiled hopefully.
She giggled, “no, I’m not and that isn’t it.” She felt him slip out of her in his disappointment.
“Augustine, to be completely honest, I am terrified of becoming pregnant. I have seen too many perish either during or closely after birth.”
He laid there for a few moments scratching her back lightly, “I am not unaware of the dangers, and I suppose if I were in your position, I too would be afraid. But, querida, we have not taken any precautions. I could have impregnated you just now!” He suddenly looked stricken.
“I know, my love, and that is why I feel I must confess to you,” she took a deep steadying breath, “my teas are not only for healing, I have been taking one to prevent pregnancy every morning since we married. Please don’t be angry with me.” She shrunk back from him but he held her tighter.
He stared at her in shock, “Amor, that is…amazing, a miracle, truly, I am speechless.”
“You mean you aren’t upset?”
“No, of course not. What a gift! To be able to choose when and if you are ready to become a mother. The implications are immense…”
“But it goes against the church, if anyone found out, I could be in so much trouble.”
His eyes met hers and she saw the sadness in them, “it is a shame, you are correct,” he tilted his chin to kiss her forehead, “but I do not mind, in fact, I benefit from your teas most so you need not worry that I will stop you,” he wiggled his eyebrows at her.
She smiled in relief. “It’s true, if I was constantly worrying about becoming with child we would not be having nearly as much fun.”
His hands slid down her back to grab her ass and push her into his completed sated cock, “I don’t suppose you’re interested in round two?”
“I’m not sure he’ll be a willing participant,” grinding her hips into his she let out a throaty laugh before she sobered, “Augustine, it did not escape my notice your disappointment in learning of my temporary barren status.”
“I know,” he gave her a weak smile, “I have been desirous of having as many children as possible with you, all girls of course, I’m afraid I couldn’t hide it.”
“All girls? I thought men only wished for sons and daughters were an unfortunate side effect.”
“That’s nonsense, I want all of our girls to look just like you and be full of your good sense. Boys are nothing but trouble.”
“But you will need an heir, my love,” she reasoned.
“Fine. One boy. But the rest must be girls.”
“I love you Augustine,” she leaned down to kiss the top of his nose, “and I promise, I will inform you when I’m ready.”
“Amor, as you will be doing all the work and it is your life at stake, I am more than willing to wait. And since he has decided to call it a night,” he yawned, “why don’t we, as well.” He kissed her temple as she slid off him to snuggle up to his side.
“It has been a long day,” she yawned.
“And I wouldn’t have wanted to spend it with anyone but you.” And with a contentment he hadn’t felt in weeks, he followed her into sleep.