Date: Thu, 13 Feb 2020 09:14:04 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chaptrer 39 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 39 My Father had telegraphed to let the family know we were on our way, so when our carriage drew up there was a gathering to welcome us. My Grandfather - then a man of 82, and very bent - and my four Aunts, two on either side of him, supporting him, stood watching as we drew close. I looked at my Father and saw an anxious face. "What is the matter?" I said quietly. "I know not what our welcome will be, Amos. The old man has aged greatly since we left, and I fear I may have laid too heavy a burden on my sisters. And my Mother is not with them. I fear she may have gone to God." I had not foreseen such a possibility, expecting in my innocence that we should be made most welcome. "Seth will charm them, I'm sure," I said. The carriage drew up and to coachman set down our luggage. My Grandfather had not moved. My Father and I got out, Seth in my arms. My oldest Aunt - Sarah - cried out on seeing Seth. "A child! You did not speak of a child, Joel. How could you keep such a cherub secret from us?" and she came forward to clasp Seth. Seth, keen but minutes earlier to be loved, shrank into my shoulder. "He's tired," I explained, "but give him a few minutes and he will be much more cheerful." "The child is not yours, Seth?" said my youngest Aunt - Martha - only a dozen years older than I. I nodded, keen to get inside the house, for neighbours had begun to gather and Seth was becoming fretful. There is no point in detailing the lengthy questioning my Father and I were subjected to. He has not chosen to record it, nor shall I. By the time all had been explained Christmas had passed, and by then Seth had taken charge of his Great-Aunts' hearts and he led them all a merry dance. My father had tactfully explained Seth's paternity while I was settling him to bed, and by the time I returned all I saw were disapproving looks from four disapproving women. The disapproval eased only when my Father's tale began to speak of gold. My Grandmother had died some three years earlier, carried off suddenly one Winter. She had been 73. I remembered a small kindly face, much wrinkled with age, but also with smiling. She would have loved to see her little great-grandchild and to make a fuss of him. But I said I would not go into details, and I fear I have done just that. Let me say therefore that within a month my Father and I had leased our own house in the town, and had hired a woman to keep house for us. She had a little girl of much the same age as Seth - the main reason we chose her - and the two of them soon became fast friends. We set to to see how our money might be invested, for we were both very clear in our minds that smithing was not going to be any part of the future. Despite his dislike for my queerness he took me into his full confidence, for half of our wealth was mine, and we made all our decisions together. We had been to consult the banker in Uttoxeter and he - good man that he was - counselled us to visit a more experienced officer of his bank in Stoke. He gave us most detailed advice, and within six months we had bought good farming land in the East of England where the soil was very fertile. "Land will always bring you a good income," he had said, and when we explained that neither of us were farmers he agreed to recommend someone in that part of England who would advise us. We travelled there - a fair distance, but nothing compared to our journeyings in America - and after a few days had hired the men needed. A year later we had built a house in good land outside Uttoxeter where the three of us (and the housekeeper and her little girl) moved in the Spring of 1855. It was clear to me that she and my Father were fond of each other, and in the Spring of 1857 they were married. Pageboy Seth, then 6, and Flower Maiden Elspeth, nearly 7 (as she always reminded us), held hands. And I held my peace, for I alone in the household had no special companion. I was then 22 years old, and itching to find my place in the World. My Father and his new wife Jane had eyes for nobody apart from each other and the children, and I was very conscious that I contributed little to the new little family. I discussed my feelings with him, and at last we agreed that I should go into Lincolnshire and live on one of our farms. ***** Three years passed: years with little of import in this story. I learned all there was to learn about the farms we owned, and although I did little of the hard work myself I was familiar with what was needed, what would grow and what would not. By the end of my third year I had made several improvements to drainage, hedging and so on, and the yield from our acres had grown by fully one quarter. I believed that even greater benefits could be obtained, but I lacked the knowledge needed to bring them about. In the Spring of 1860 I formed a useful relationship with an agricultural expert in Lincoln who spent four days with me looking at all our farms in the two counties. He had made copious notes of what he saw, and promised to give me a detailed report of what I should change. We stayed in inns as the farmsteads had no room for us. On the second night we formed a different relationship. I was 25, he 23, a graduate from Cambridge in land management. Arthur was the first person I had fucked since Lucky all those years ago. Arthur filled the gap in my life. It had been eight years since I had enjoyed sex in California, eight years of solitary pleasure-seeking. On the third and fourth nights in the inns I found that the desire Arthur reawakened in me was so intense that I vowed never to let it slip from me again. I had wasted eight years of my manhood. Arthur's report, a few days after we returned to our separate homes, was the turning point in my personal life as well as my business life. He rode from Lincoln to my cottage on the main farm at Wisbech and brought detailed plans. We spent hours - he explaining, I questioning, he persuading, I agreeing. By suppertime the future of the Cunliffe Estate was known - all that remained was to bring about the changes. "We haven't eaten," I said suddenly, "four hours have flown by! Arthur, the inn is only half a mile away, come, let us celebrate our work today." Arthur smiled. "And let us look forward to our play tonight." That night Arthur and I became bound to one another. He agreed to become the Estate manager, living with me and sharing everything. "How will your father find this?" he asked as we walked to the inn. "He knows of my inclination," I explained, "and he accepts it, though he finds it distasteful. He will accept you, I'm sure." Arthur said he should like to meet the rest of my family. "Let us not rush," I said, "but I will write to him and explain the business matters - the changes you have recommended and your becoming Manager." "Will he not object to my appointment, Amos?" "Nay," I said, "for I am in charge here in the east. Trust me, he will accept it." He did, of course. When Arthur and I went to Uttoxeter that Autumn the reports of crop yields we brought with us pleased my Father so much that our strange domestic arrangement was easy for him to ignore. Seth, whom I had not seen since the preceding Christmas, had grown bigger. Now approaching 10 years old he was doing well at his schooling, and he was excited to show me the new things he had learned since last I had seen him. I missed him more than I had thought. The little excitements each day when he came home to show off some new thing mastered were a joy to me, and Joel (for now I called him by his name) and Jane were happy to let me be the recipient of each day's news. We stayed in Uttoxeter for a week during which time Joel and Arthur got to know each other. Joel wanted to know everything about the farms, and although I could have given him the reports I deliberately drew back, making an excuse either that I wanted to play with Seth, or that I wanted to look at the grounds surrounding the house. By this means Joel and Arthur became more at ease with one another. ***** We established a pattern in the next few years. Arthur and I would journey to Uttoxeter in Summer and at Christmas, spending a week, and Joel would come to see the farms each Spring. Seth was most pleased, for as his birthday fell on December 4th and Arthur and I did not come to Uttoxeter until two or three days before Christmas, "I get three lots of gifts," he announced, "on my birthday with Grandpapa and Jane, then on my not-birthday with Papa and Arthur, then again on Christmas Day." ***** Two days after Christmas 1864 saw Arthur and me preparing to return to Wisbech. We were to leave the following morning. Seth came into our bedroom as we were putting our clothes into our valises. He had always come into the bedroom without ceremony, and we had been careful not to make love except at night, so his sudden arrival had never caused any embarrassment. He sat on the bed. "Amos," he said, "can I call you that, now that I'm nearly grown up?" "Of course you can, Seth, it's my name." I remembered how grown up I had felt when I was newly 14 - in California being fucked by his namesake. "It's a nice big bed," he said. Aha! I thought, the boy has woken up to what might be going on. I said nothing. "Amos, can I ask you something?" "Yes, Seth, don't keep asking - just say what is on your mind." I stopped what I was doing and went to kneel in front of him. "Ask," I said quietly, taking his hands in mine, "ask, Seth, and I will tell you the truth, whatever you may ask me." "You and Arthur sleep in the same bed, don't you?" I nodded. "Grandpapa and Jane sleep in the same bed, and they love each other. Do you and Arthur love each other?" Before I could reply Arthur, still busily putting clothes away, said, "of course we do, Seth," and I smiled, adding, "yes, very much." "And do you ... do it with each other?" Ah. This was going to call for great care. 'Do it' could cover many things, after all. On the other hand, Amos, I reminded myself, you were fucking at his age. How strange that fatherhood should make this situation so much harder to deal with, I thought. "We make love, Seth, if that's what 'doing it' means," I said. "Oh Amos, he wants to know if we fuck. Don't you, Seth?" The Cunliffe red hair was once more matched by Cunliffe cheeks. Seth looked at his feet and nodded. "You know about fucking then?" I said quietly. He nodded again. "But I don't want to fuck Elspeth." I was pleased to hear it - another unwanted pregnancy in the family would be one too many. "But you know that fucking doesn't have to be with a girl, don't you, Seth?" said Arthur. Seth nodded and said that his friend at school (Nathaniel) had told him all kinds of things. "Told, or shown?" I asked in a whisper. "Shown," almost inaudibly. "And you loved every minute of it, and you don't know what to do about it. Am I right?" said Arthur. Seth looked up for the first time to see both Arthur and me grinning foolishly. "You don't mind?" I stood up and pulled my son, my dear son, into my arms. "Of course I don't, Seth, how could I? You are my son and I love you. If you and Nathaniel fuck that's your business and no-one else's." "We don't fuck, Amos ... not yet, but ... oh hell," and the poor boy started to cry. I hugged him tightly while the passion raged in him. Arthur, standing behind poor Seth, looked at me and we both smiled a smile full of yearning, of remembered heart-ache from being innocent boys of 14, full of tenderness at the remembered vulnerability, of the fragile flower of new-found awareness. Seth's tears passed and he looked up, red eyes full of hope. "Is it all right to ... ?" "Say the words, Seth, it will help" I said softly. Seth swallowed. "I think I love Nathaniel," he whispered. "Does he love you, Seth?" "I don't know." "Well in that case you must tell yourself that he might very well love you, but hasn't yet met two men like us who have given him permission to say so," said Arthur. Seth brightened visibly at this piece of wisdom. "I think it would be wise if you and Nathaniel kept your love for each other a secret," I said, "and one day I'll tell you why." "That's unfair to the poor boy," said Arthur, "why make him wait? If you want to share family history with him you should do it now." Arthur was well aware of my adventures in California, for we had spent happy hours in bed telling each other our life stories, as lovers do. "Very well," I said, and gave Seth a brief outline of what I had done in far-off California. "And when Grandpapa found out he wasn't cross?" "No, he was disappointed that I had chosen the path I had, but he said that I was old enough, and man enough, to know my own mind. I don't believe he will think any differently now, Seth, but he is an older man now, and none of us knows how Jane may take such news. I would counsel you to keep your doings with Nathaniel secret." Seth nodded. "Thank you, Amos. It is good to be treated as a man and trusted with grown-up things." As we rode home the next day Arthur and I had a great deal to think about. We spent the night at an inn in Grantham and we spent the evening discussing what Seth had told us. I said that Seth would be happier, if he was indeed queer, as seemed likely, living with us, where his queerness would occasion no adverse comment, than in Uttoxeter where he would always be alert for discovery. Arthur said that was all very well, but Seth was at school in Uttoxeter, and Nathaniel was at school in Uttoxeter and we should not upset that relationship. "You know as well as I do, Amos, that even if they do love each other they are unlikely to continue to feel the same for the rest of their lives. You and the other Seth, for instance. No, don't stop me - I know he was older than you, but your feelings were real and earnestly felt at the time. Our duty to Seth is to be here, to be stable, to be loving, to be understanding on the day that he finds that Nathaniel no longer fills his soul. That day will come, and that is when you and I can be useful to him." "You're right. I will write to him - he will enjoy receiving a letter." ***** When we journeyed to Uttoxeter the following Summer Seth had grown fully five inches. He was now a fine young man, and his schooling had finished. On our first evening there he had been bursting to share news with us that could not be shared over the dinner table. It was almost two hours before he came to our bedroom to give us his news. Nathaniel and he had finally fucked each other in February, and the experience had been entirely satisfactory (although not described in quite those words). It had become clear that what each felt for the other had not been love, but (certainly in Seth's case) mere infatuation - and none the worse for that, I thought. He and Nathaniel remained friends, and continued to fuck each other occasionally, but in a manner that was on both sides devoid of any emotion other than lust. I smiled. There was nothing wrong with lust, but it was a poor diet if better fare might be found. "What would you like, Seth?" I said. "I want to come and live with you and Arthur, Amos, and learn about the farming." It was not what I had expected, but I found my heart swelling with joy as he said it. Joel did not make any objection, and Jane, who had been a mother to Seth from an early age, was sad but agreed that it was time he made his own place in the world, as he would surely inherit the estate some day. So Seth came with us back to Wisbech in July 1865. His life, and ours, would change immeasurably. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ That seemed a fitting place to leave Amos and Seth for the time being. Riffling quickly through the pages I found that I had read about half of what Bertie had described as the "less tattered" set of papers. I hoped that eventually authorship would pass to Seth and the details of the creation of the earldom set out. There's nothing like reading about boy brothels to quicken the blood, after all. The day after I got back from school I had talked to Billy and Jack, hoping that they would agree that Dodo and Seb should join us for a few days over Christmas, and Jack's excitement had been a joy to see. "Don't get too keen, Jack," warned Billy, "you never know whether Seb might have family he wants to meet Dodo." Jack hadn't thought of that, nor, I confess, had I given it much thought either. Seb had never mentioned family of any kind and as far as we knew the two of them were living by themselves. "Zip him, Dab," said Jack, "now, so they can tell us if they can come." Seb had zipped back only about half an hour later. They would love to come, he had said. The shop would be closed from Christmas Eve, re-opening on the Monday after New year - 5 January. I had zipped back to see if Seb had any plans apart from coming to us. "No. I don't see my family any more. They don't like dirty queers." I'd shown the zip to Billy. "Poor bugger," he'd said, "it must be horrible being shunned by your own family." I'd said nothing, knowing that Billy's family were still unaware of our relationship. I knew that it was up to Billy to tell them, but the longer he put it off the harder it would be. If Seb's visit opened up the possibility of a conversation about families and secrecy it might be useful on the Billy front, and Seb and Dodo were due in a week's time. Jack's 14th birthday was only a few days away. I had zipped Billy before going to Cambridge to see whether he could find out what Jack would like. The zip back had been succinct. "Apart from you, books. He loves reading." "Does he use the library?" "Can't keep him out." "Not just the dirty stuff?" "God no, he's devoured Harry Potter." Jack's reading habits had evidently widened since I was last at home. There was little point in buying him any books, however, since the Library was there and he was free to absorb everything. That left me no further forward with a present for him. Now that I was home I had little time to buy anything, so I went one morning to find Jorrocks. Luckily when I got to his lair he was there on his own. "No Jack?" "No Sir, he's out with Hester somewhere. Do you need him?" I told the old man that it was he I wanted to talk to. "It's Jack's birthday in a few days - he'll be 14," I said, "and I wanted to ask you if there's anything you could think of - a gardening book, or something like that - which I could get for him." The old man smiled. "Now that's a kind thought. I don't know for sure, but he and Hester have spent a lot of time with the fruit trees, and Jack's been keen to learn about their care, training, pruning, everything. If you could find a book, with pictures showing what to do, that might be what he'd like." "That sounds perfect, thank you. How are Hester and he getting along?" Like a house on fire, it seemed, so much so that he asked if he might leave at Easter. "They'll not need me then, and I'll look forward to time with Mrs Jorrocks before we both get too old to enjoy what's left to us." Rivers and I went for a major shopping trip the next day, and I found what I was looking for. In the car he told me about Hester and Pam. "They've settled in very nicely, Dab, better than you expected. There's a discovery for you to make," but he wouldn't say another word on the subject. I asked him about the eating arrangements for the staff. "We all eat together, Dab, what did you think? All except Jorrocks who goes home, and if he doesn't eat the snack his wife gives him each day for his midday meal the sky will fall in. The rest of us all eat in the Servants' Hall, just like we always did." "I meant Billy and Jack, Rivers, and the two women." "We all eat together, as I said. There's no awkwardness, if that's what you're thinking. Your mother's carer too, of course. Your mother still has her meals in her room." At least the arrangement seemed to be working: queers and lesbians all happily accepted. I wondered how I could unravel the mystery Rivers had so annoyingly alluded to. In the end it was my mother, of all people, who made it clear. =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 40 as my mother's information becomes more generally known. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================