The Jester

God it was so good. The biscuit's melted in her mouth, and the spices in the applesauce were wonderful. She felt so unladylike as she shoveled in the delightful meal. "Where is everyone?"

Margaret swallowed, and gulped down some milk before answering. "Well Jules took off early this morning on our mare toward the castle. He should be arriving there soon. Trace and George went back to get your luggage and the wheel. You should be able to change out of that dress before the carriage from the castle arrives to get you. We didn't want you to be embarrassed arriving in a mess, not that you don't look breathtaking as you are dear." Marianne smiled at the older woman deeply fond of her, and sad that she would be leaving her company.

As Margaret had predicted, Trace and George arrived back with her things and the carriage wheel in tow, leaving her time to wash up and dress in a more suitable dress for her presentation at the castle. Trace had slicked back his hair, and had it pulled into a ponytail in back. With his hair out of his face, she could better admire his handsome face. Jules arrived with a large black carriage accompanied by a valet and driver. They loaded up her things, and with a long goodbye and plenty of hugs and praises for all the wonderful hospitality, she, her sweet jester, and Jules set off once again toward her grave future.

Upon arrival, she was quickly ushered from the carriage and into the library where she was presented to her future husband. She was struck with grief as she stared at the eighty something fat and balding man sitting before her. So this was the Duke of Hallstead. Instead of concern, she was greeted with criticism and chaste for arrival late, even though he was clearly informed of her carriage incident. She felt nothing but disgust and repulsion for the man, and excused herself claiming she had a headache from lack of sleep from the trip. He waved her out as though he could care less, and she was allowed to retire to her room. She fell upon the bed in tears and wishing she were back with the Finches.

She was awoken a couple of hours later by a knock on her door. She opened it to see Trace standing there glancing down the halls for fear of getting caught near her room. He pushed her inside closing the door quickly, then locking it behind him.

"Oh sweetheart, I feel greatly for you. I've met the old codger. This won't do at all. We've got to get you away from here." He sweep her up into arms while she began crying once more.

"Oh Trace, if I run away they will surely find me. I'll disgrace my parents. They lock me a tower never to be seen again. I don't know what's worse, that or marriage to him!" Her body shook with despair.

"Love, we'll find a way. I promise." He heard her belly growl as he held her. "When was the last time you ate?"

She shook her head and answered, "Not since this morning, but I'm not hungry. I wish I were dead."

"Shhh, love, we'll fix this, but first you must eat something. It might make you feel better." She nodded as the idea popped into her head.

"Yes, I'll eat. I'll eat so much that I'll get fat, then he'll leave me alone." Trace snickered at her reasoning.

"Marianne, you could be 200 lbs and growing, and you'd still be desirable. Come on, the halls have empty since the knight are all outside dueling with one another. Even the ladies are watching the competitions."

They snuck down to the kitchen where sure enough, it sat empty. A large kettle rested in the fireplace boiling it's contents, and pastries and pies of all kinds filled the long table. There were maid's dresses hanging on wall mount near the hearth drying. Trace grabbed a plate and filled it with the tasty pastries, and sat Marianne down to feed her. She bit into one, and quickly polished it off. It was delicious. As they ate in silence, Trace was looking around keeping an eye out for the kitchen staff. He began fabricating a plan to assist her in escaping her doom without risking the embarrassment of actually running from it. Just as he stood up, one of the kitchen maids enter the kitchen carrying an empty tray.

"Oh sorry miss! I didn't see you here. We've been outside serving food to the guest as they watch the competitions. I'll load my tray and be off in a flash." She went about her task glancing up shyly at Trace. "My name is Beth by the way. The duke told me this evening that you are without a maid and suggest that I serve you during your stay. I hope that will be acceptable to you?" Marianne was about to agree, when she was interrupted by Trace.

"Your ladyship has a maid already Beth, she was just delayed in the trip. She caught a terrible cold, and we left her behind with the carriage at the Finch's cottage. She'll be joining her mistress tonight." He looked over at Marianne, and mouthed "Trust me." when the maid turned toward her to get a confirmation to his story.

"Why yes Beth, my maid Florence will arrive shortly I'm sure. Thanks for your kind offer, but she'll see to my needs." The maid bowed quickly and replied.

"Yes my lady. Still if she still feels unwell, feel free to ring for me." She smiled shyly at us both, then turned with her tray full of goodies, and headed back outside. Trace quickly leaped up grabbing a cap, and one of the maid's dress and smock from the hook on the wall, wrapping it in bundle and shoving inside his pants pulling his bagging shirt to cover the bulge. He then reached over and picked up a sack of sugar from the table, open it and pour part of it into the steaming kettle of soup. He retied the end, and shoved it into his pants as well. Marianne sat starring all the while, shaking her head as he grabbed her hand and ushered her back up the stairs and into her chambers once more.

"Why did you tell the maid that my maid would be arriving soon. I don't have a maid, nor know anyone who will pretend to be one for me." He grinned broadly and pulled his stolen goods from his pants.

"Do you possibly have an extra corset?" She nodded and went to retrieve it. She watched as he pulled his shirt off, then took the bad of sugar and divided it's contents into halves. He then twisted it in the middle forming two perfect spheres. He held the bundle up to his chest and motion for her to strap the corset around him. She pinned the round masses against his chest, and tightened it around him. He was thin enough for it to fit. He then pulled the maid's dress over his head, and pulled his hair out of it's hold and plopped the cap on top of his head. He squeaked out a feminine voice, and said, "Hi miss, I'm sorry I was so late. That darn cold has made my voice so hoarse hasn't it. I plan to serve and care for you miss." She couldn't hold it in any longer. She let out a whooping laugh that racked her body. Her laughter was music to his ears and couldn't help but giggle still in his female voice, "Oh you think I look funny do you?" She gasped in a deep breath she was laughing so hard.

"Yes! Oh god, you look ridicules." She stood in front of him, and couldn't help herself. She reached up and fondled his fake breast. "I'm so jealous now, you've bigger breast than me." He put his hands on both hips, and acted insulted.

"Ha ha. Make fun of my womanly features, and see if I care. He turned and stomped off toward the closet." She dropped to the floor in a fit of giggles, rolling around while she held her belly.

Trace peered into her closet down at her shoes. He tried on a pair, but they were way too small. "Hmm. I've got some searching to do." He pulled his cap off, and pulled the dress back over his head. He stood over Marianne while she laid on the floor still chuckling up at him. He was captivated by the site of her twinkling eyes and rosy cheeks. She needed to laugh more often, and he would be happy to give her that. He stretched a hand down to pull her to her feet, and she immediate wrapped her arms around him.

"I love you Trace, but you'll never pull this off." He grinned down at her.

"Watch me." He leaned over and gave her lips a quick kiss before bundling up his maid outfit and headed out the door.

She didn't see him again until later that night. She was escorted to dinner by her soon to be husband's son Maverick. He had knocked on her door making the demand that if she wasn't dressed in five minutes, he would take it upon himself to dress her himself. Thankfully, she was dressed and ready before he knocked. She brushed pass him as she walked out into the hall only to have him grab her arm probably leaving a bruise. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? Punctual little tart aren't you?" He leered down at her, and steered her to face him. She turned her head from him, so she wouldn't have to watch him jeering at her. "Hello Mommy. My I have the pleasure of a kiss?" He forced her head toward his, and grinded his lips down on hers. He smelled of wet dog, and his breath wasn't much better.

She tore her mouth away, and gasped, "Unhand me you fiend! I'll not be manhandled by you and no one else. Lease you wish to die today my lord?"

He grinned and roughly pulled her along beside him as he guided them to dinner. Upon entering, everyone had turned to stare at them. She spotted Trace sitting on the right of Duke, and noticed that he was frowning at them. Maverick pulled her forward causing her to lose her balance. He didn't bother to stop, but simply dragged her back up to her feet as they headed toward their table. Trace stood up in fury, as did the Duke.

"Why do you manhandle my lovely bride to be, Maverick? Do you not see you are hurting her?" He glared at his son, and quickly stepped down to pull Marianne away. She was relieved to see at least the Duke wouldn't allow her to be abused.

"Sorry father, but she was taking too long. From now on, send someone else to fetch her. I've better things to do." He blew a kiss at Marianne and then turned to take his seat at the end of the table.

The Duke turned toward her, "My dear, when you are called for dinner, you must make haste. I'll not tolerate dilly dallying." Even though the Duke's grip wasn't as painful as his son's, he still used force to pull her along to be seated beside him. She glared up at the Duke.

"For your information sir, I wasn't dilly dallying! I was dressed and ready only to be manhandled by that horrid man, and then you just assumed that I was the one being rude when you yourself showed me the same treatment! I must insist on an apology from you." She was rubbing her sore arm as she sat there in anger. The Duke looked at her, and then waved his hand.

"I apologize to no woman. You best be holding your tongue chit. I'm not beneath cutting it off. I would never mar that pretty face, but I'm not against teaching you your place. You don't need a tongue to make babies now do you?" He grabbed her chin and once more she was forced to endure the harsh treatment of yet another horrible kiss. Tears were now running down her cheeks as she submitted to the kiss. Shouts and whistle sounded out from several onlookers. He finally let her go, and she sat back into her chair with a thud. She used the back of her hand to wipe off her mouth, and groaned as blood smeared across her hands from the cut in her lips. She looked up to see Trace staring at her with a look of murder in his eyes. She thought he was mad at her upon first glance, but noticed that he then turned to the Duke, and began to stand up. She caught his eyes, and immediately started shaking her head back and forth. Trace saw the concern in her eyes, and sat back down slowly trying to control the rage that was boiling within him. She mouth the words, "I'm okay." She reached up and pulled her napkin from the table to hold it to her bleeding lip and applied pressure. She had lost her appetite, so she just sat there stewing in her thoughts. She was not marrying this ass. She would rather die than be caught in his marriage bed.

After everyone had finished their meals, it was time for Trace's performance. He stood on one of the empty tables, and began telling jokes. It was the hardest thing he had ever had to do. He wanted nothing more than to steal his beautiful Marianne away, and escape this place. Everyone was laughing hard, the Duke especially. He kept pounding the table while he roared with it. Marianne couldn't help cracking a smile as well. She shouldn't feel like laughing, but Trace turned her glum into glee. Once the show was over, she excused herself from the table, and headed back to her safe room. She locked the door behind her, and went to treat her wounds.

She was about to crawl into bed when she heard a knock on her door. "Miss Marianne, it's me, Florence. I'm here to prepare you for bed miss." She looked at the door with wonder. Florence? It couldn't be?

She pulled open the door to reveal a tall lanky maid with curly brown hair and a devilish smile. "Trace? Oh god!" She burst into giggles, and couldn't stop. He rolled his eyes, and pushed her back inside, closing he door behind him.

"Stop that! We've got to have a serious talk Marianne. Get yourself together!" She nodded, and sobered up.

"I'm sorry, Trace. I can't help but laugh. You look so funny, but your right. We have to figure a way to get me out of here. I can't marry that man, and did you see his horrible son?" She shivered at the mental picture of what he might do to her. Trace wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.

"You're right. You can't stay here. I can't let him hurt you again." He felt her tears against his neck and he pulled her even closer. "Sweetheart, don't cry. We'll think of something."

"I know, but you are so sweet to care about me. Very few people have." She leaned back and took his head into her hands and kissed him. He gentle returned the kiss, but felt her wince as he brushed against the sore on her bottom lip. He stared hard down at her now.

"I'll kill him." She simply smiled up at him.

"That's not the answer. You'll only be killed in return, and I very much need you alive my dear man. I'm in love with you, and want nothing more than to spend the rest of my days with you no matter what happens. Please say you feel the same?"

He hugged her back to him and whispered into her ear, "Oh yes, my love. I'll always promise to love and honor you, and protect you forever and ever. Until my very last breath leaves my body will I cherish you." She was crying again, but it was for the great happiness she felt inside of her.

"I'm glad, but now we must think of way for that future to be possible. The Duke means to have me, and if I escape, he and my father will tear this country apart to find us. We wouldn't get far, and they would kill you for sure, and there's no telling what they would do to me afterwards."

They sat on the bed holding each other. "I think I might have a plan, but it's risky. Short of killing him, maybe we can turn his lovely son against him. He is set to inherit a mass fortune, maybe with a little aid of a saucy maid, we'll be able to end your marriage as soon as it starts." She looked up at him with confusion. "What maid?" When realization dawned on her, she giggled a little. "You?" She shook her head, "What are you going to do?"

He leaned back as the idea seemed even more appealing than before. "You'll see. Just trust me." Once he had gotten her to sleep, he snuck out of her room, and back into his down the hall not realizing he was being watched.

The next morning, still dressed as a maid, Trace entered her room, and was surprised to see Marianne up and dressed already. She was to be married this afternoon, and worry was etched on her face.

"Hey sweetheart, how are you doing?" She walked into his arms with fresh tears on her cheeks.

"Oh Trace! Do I have to go through with this? Why doesn't that ghastly man just leave me alone. I hate my father for ever allowing this marriage to take place. I received word this morning that they don't even intend to attend. What am I going to do?" She was sobbing heavily, and still Trace held her. He didn't say anything to reassure her, but she knew that he would do everything to help her.

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The afternoon arrived quickly, and everyone had gathered in the gardens which had been turned into a makeshift chapel. Beth was serving as her bridesmaid, and Jules was allowed to give her away in her fathers stead. Her gown was beautifully designed by her own hand with beads and artificial flowers. It would have been a wonderful wedding had it not been for the brides sad eyes and frown. Jules whispered in her ear, "Oh mistress, you look absolutely beautiful. If it wasn't for that hateful man up there, I'd be so proud to give you away." She kissed his cheek, and held on to him for dear life as they strolled up the isle.

During the ceremony, she kept looking around hoping that Trace would show up and steal her away, but he never came, and she never saw him. Once the kiss came, and her marriage was final, tears started to fall from her blue eyes.

Beth lead her to her new chambers, and prepared her for her marriage bed. "It's going to be alright miss. I have it on good authority that the Duke doesn't get hard enough to do much damage. In his old age, he's lucky if he's able to piss, much less full fill his marriage vows. Don't go worrying none. He'll be done and off in no time, and you'll be allowed to leave." Her words were somewhat reassuring, but still the thoughts of that old man touching her left her cold.

Night fell, and still no Trace. She was beginning to lose hope. She sat in bed awaiting her destiny. The old codger finally entered the bed chamber. He had been drinking too much during the wedding feast, so he staggered into the room and collapsed onto the bed beside her. "Hello my beauty. Are you ready to play with me?" He fumbled with his robe, and finally was able to work the buttons free. He laid back against the pillows exposing his naked, frail body. "Come pet, climb on top of me and make me yours." She simply turned her head in disgust.

"I'm afraid husband that if you want me, you'll just have to take me. I'm not going to do this willingly." The old man grunted, then rolled over to her.

"If you insist, but I fear that if I cannot complete the task of breaking your maidenhood, I'll have to call upon my son to do the deed. The ton will expect to see the stains on the sheets in the morning before they will call you Duchess, my pet. Let's not keep them waiting, um?" He kissed her with wet lips, and she nearly threw up on him. He lifted her bed clothes, and touched her dry folds. "Not excited yet? Well, we'll do something about that shall we?" He crawled between her legs and positioned himself there with his head right at the heart of her. She looked down at him in panic.

"What are you doing?" She felt his tongue close over her maidenhood, and without helping herself, she moaned. It felt so good. She had been pushing at his shoulders, but felt herself giving into the feeling and letting him kiss her there. He pushed her legs further apart so he could settle even more deeply into her. His tongue probed her entrance and soon her juices began to flow. She thought this feeling couldn't get any more pleasant, but she then felt him slid one of his fingers up inside her, touching her where she had never been touched before. Her bottom began to wiggle as the finger started to slide in and out. She found herself humping him, and grabbing his head to force him even closer. The pressure in her stomach began to build, and she felt like she was going to explode any moment now. Grabbing his head, she stuffed his face against her. "Oh! Don't stop! Don't stop!" She let out a yell that shocked even her, as her body racked with pleasure. After several minutes of holding him there, she slowly released his head.

"That was wonderful! I didn't think...I mean, I never knew." She tried desperately to catch her breath, and wondered why he hadn't said anything. She glanced down at her lord, and quickly sat up. His head still laid on the bed, but his eyes were open, and his face was a deep blue color. He was deader than a doorknob.