The Fancy (15 page)

he must at al cost, close his heart to what she was

feeling, or else lose al that he’d gained so far. He

stood arrogant and cocky, in disdain of them al –

despite the lump in his throat. The lady walked to the

front of the table, “The girl is untouched, a virgin.”

It was clear the men were surprised.

They al nodded that she was done and could

leave. She turned eyeing Quinton up and down with

disdain, “T’huh – no man thee, wat’ - does it fail ya’ –

limp aye?” Her vulgar referral to his manhood sent

the other men into laughter, causing Father Hannah

to shout, “Out with you and such talk!”

“I’m goin’ and thinkin’, it ain’t only thee bloods

that’s blue!” She spat out before heading for the

door, leaving the men once more fil ed with mirth at

Quinton’s expense. She departed, eager to tel what

she knew; that in truth, the girl had not been used –

and it was obvious, the doctor was a bore and an

impotent fop – an English snob – not an ounce of a

virile male about him.

Returning to his act of snobbery, Quinton

ignored their laughter and the woman’s comment,

stating, “There! As – I – said – I have been wrongly

accused on both counts! Falsely accused of being a

spy, falsely accused of committing fornication!”

Quinton eyed each man, “Wel ? I think it is fair to say,

we should be dismissed immediately!”

“Regardless of al that has been disclosed, you

cannot return to the previous living arrangement - …”

“I bloody wel can! The service I provide alone

should be enough to give me this special privilege!”

“No man is above God’s law!” Father Hannah

rebuked him.

“Have you been listening? The girl is vital for

my studies, vital to the administrations of al here!”

“I care not what the girl does; you wil not keep

her and live in sin!”

Snarling with disdain, Richard McKinney spoke

up, “You need the girl so badly for your studies, fine –

bloody blue-blood – marry her – or else release her

back to Bancmen!”

The other men gasped and then, as it occurred

to them what it would mean for him; shame,

embarrassment, certainly something to bring one of

the gentry down from their precious high horses, they

began to nod their heads in agreement, “Aye – I

second it!”

“Aye, third – one or the other!”

“You’ve al gone mad!” Quinton protested.

“Aye, I agree – marry the wench, or send her

home with me.” Bancmen smiled cunningly; like the

others, he had little tolerance for bluebloods other

than what he could sel to them. It stil did not sit wel

with him, how the man scorned him, looked down on

him that day upon granting him the gift of a slave girl,

now – he understood why.

He was of the aristocracy.

Quinton made sure to look stunned, his eyes

going from one to the other, “Surely you jest! Do you

know who I am?”

His words, spoken with haughty superiority

nailed the coffin shut - each man before him went

from suggesting it, to insisting upon it, in fact,

Bancmen stated, “Come now Dr. Caine, we as

gentlemen al know, there are more ways in which to

commit fornication, perhaps you have committed an

act even more despicable – one not so easily

spotted…” He let the idea of possible sodomy drift

as if a hint to what may be.

“You…” Quinton bit out, turning red, very much

aware of what he was hinting at.

“Careful, be very careful, either be charged with

fornication
by
sodomy…” Father Hannah crossed

himself and did a prayer as if he stood before the

devil himself as Bancmen continued to explain his

options… “…as wel a charge of spying … or …”

“You know that is a lie!” Quinton fought to the

end.

Bancmen smiled, “…or… give, the girl, your

name -
Earl of WhistHirst.”
Quinton stood as if

steam rose from him, in fact, holding his breath for

the right effect, as if what they suggested was

beyond what he could stand. Al five men sat with a

feeling of complete elation, for once, looking down

their noses at someone whom they felt represented

al of the elite class they’d escaped from – coming to

this new land, where now, they stood as law of the

land. “We’re waiting…”

“What – little – choice – have I?” Quinton slowly

bit out, glaring and breathing harshly through his

narrowed nose as if fighting not to explode.

Father Hannah opened his book where al

matters were recorded and began entering into it the

date, time and the marriage between the Earl of

WhistHirst – Quinton Thaddeus Caine and...

“The girls name?” he asked, of course

speaking to Quinton, who refused to talk.

Laughing, Bancmen supplied her name, “Suga

– Suga Caine I presume.” He couldn’t stop smiling.

Father Hannah continued on to fil it in

completely, making sure to note before her name,

‘Free Negro Servant girl, Suga Caine’
and then

turned the book to Quinton, “Sign it – here – now!”

“This – is not – done.”

“This day, to you – it wil be done, God’s wil –

be done! Sign it, now.” They al waited.

Final y, having held out enough, Quinton

charged to the table and signed it with his elegant

scrol ing signature. They each took it and signed it

as witnesses to the marriage. “Now the girl – here

wench – you can sign your name can’t you?”

Suga looked up at the men before her. Quinton

standing before their table, the other men standing

behind the table, each looking her way; she hadn’t a

clue of what they wanted from her.

“Wel wench? Can you?”

“Can I – what sa’?” She asked timidly.

“Sign – your - name!” Father Hannah growled

impatiently.

She didn’t know what that meant, why they

wanted her to sign her name, but stood, nodding,

“Yes sa’, I can – I can sign my name.”

“Hurry about it then, right here, sign it.”

With her heart slamming, she tried to keep her

eyes off of Quinton, because he wasn’t the same –

she was confused. She walked forward, and

reached out for the quil .

“There, sign your name right there!” Father

Hannah pointed to where she was to sign. She

leaned over and careful y, with buried pride, showed

them that she could sign her name with Suga and

went to stand away, when Quinton nudged her

impatiently, “The rest of it, hurry, I’ve had enough of

this – Caine – Suga Caine!” He ordered gruffly.

Being subjected to him speaking to her in such

a tone, hurt her feelings, she didn’t get it, turning

away; she bent back over it, dipped the quil and

finished it, signing her ful name, as Suga Caine.

Standing, she gently laid the quil down – backing

away, unsure of what was expected of her next –

she’d spent the entire time al was going on, off into

another world, mental y escaping the one she felt

trapped in.

“Now to the vow…”

“I’ve signed it, haven’t I – that is enough!”

Quinton had to give a bit of fight al the way.

“Vows must be said, before man as a witness,

and before God!” Father Hannah commanded and

carried on, starting with, “Do you take this woman...”

“Bloody hel ! Yes, yes – mutter anymore and I

shal run from this hal shouting like a madman!”

Each of the men savored being present, they

were in heaven, doing a deed they each relished –

to them, the most perfect revenge. Father Hannah

turned his attention to Suga, “You, pay attention! Do

you – take this man, Quinton Thaddeus Caine, to be-

…” Cutting him off, Quinton grabbed her arm roughly,

shook her a bit, and harshly ordered her, “Say yes!

Say it, just say it! So that I may be done with it.”

“Yes…” She immediately squeaked, her mind

spinning, her ears popping, wondering what was

going on? Never in a mil ion years would her mind

believe that she had just married him, a white man,

this was not possible. Yet… what was happening?

With his lips curled in a snarl, Quinton had to

feel as if he would get in the last word, “It is done-…”

“Not quite.” Father Hannah smiled, “By the

power vested in me, I now pronounce, that you are

hereby man and wife. You may now, kiss your bride.”

The four witnesses burst into laughter. Suga stood

dumbfounded and wide eyed.

“Laugh – laugh al you bloody wel like, I am no

less of the aristocracy and you are no less the

common bloody peasants that you are! Think I care?

Don’t look so smug, as I said, it was never my

intention to entertain thoughts of a wife – now or ever

– thanks to the lot of you, I need not worry over the

matter! You’ve done me a favor!”

They did feel smug, as their smiles showed.

“Are we now dismissed?” He asked sharply.

Before Father Hannah could speak, Richard

McKinney spoke up, “There is the matter of

consummation, after al – you’ve had the wench al

this time, without touching her, so you claim – the

marriage is not a marriage true, without

consummation!” Quinton glared at him, “What are

you saying?”

“To be sure the marriage is binding; there must

be a deed done to see it completed; otherwise, who

is to say, you might somehow try and wriggle out of

it.”

Quinton’s eyes shot to Father Hannah, “Surely

you’re not suggesting…? You – a man of God, would

condone such a request.”

“As a man of God, who am I to argue with his

process? Is it not He, who through creation, gave

man, and woman the means in which to become

husband and wife?”

“I wil do no such thing!” Quinton blasted.

“Is it not so, that at one time, it was the tradition

of your king to be granted the right of deflowering the

virgin on her wedding night?” Henry J. Bancmen

stated with lust fil ed eyes, “Therefore, it cannot be

too unfamiliar to you, that perhaps if you are unable,

one of us – or myself – are more than able to see the

job done.”

“What you speak of is barbaric!” Quinton felt

his face flame, his head spin with what he knew they

wanted; even father Hanna had lust in his eyes, “If

you are –
unable
.” He agreed. He had no choice, he

could see that now, or see her raped by one of them.

It had gone further than he had wanted, but there was

no way out of it.

“If I must be cursed with the burden of a wife, an

il chosen one at that, I wil be damned before

another wil do the deflowering!” At the same time

that he prayed for God to forgive him, he turned,

dragging her behind him towards the table he had at

first stood at before them, going to the opposite

side, he slung her to it, bending her face down,

trapping her in place by the back of her neck,

ignoring her whimpers of fear; tossing her skirt up

over her back, he tore her bloomers from over her

rear and using his feet, forced her legs apart.

In that moment, he found himself, once more in

the dark place that he hated, considering himself just

as mad; just as barbaric; just as animalistic as they,

because knowing what he was about to do, gave

because knowing what he was about to do, gave

him a throbbing erection. Opening his trousers, he

released himself behind her and spread her further.

“Please… no…” She cried in terror, her face

turned from al , her cheek pressed into the top of the

table.

“Silence!” He barked. He had to silence her, or

else he might not be able to go through with it, and

he could not let one of them dare touch her –

because they would, he knew they would. He

inserted his middle finger and immediately felt her

tightness, her hymen. He knew it would hurt her;

grabbing his throbbing length, he rubbed his head

into her heat, needing a bit of moisture to penetrate -

there was not near enough for what he must do – he

had little choice but to force her to take him as she

was – the deed would not be easy, because he was

above average and tightly swol en, supporting the

base of his length he shoved forward meeting with

tight resistance, and with little choice – he drew back

a little and pushed forward once more, hard and

deep.