Anonymous

The Loves of Lord Roxboro

VOLUME I

The Two orphans Or The Exciting Adventures Of Caroline and Freda

Roxboro Mansion was indeed a beautiful place, beautiful but isolated, away, as you might say, from all the adjoining estates, and dating back hundreds of years, and finally passing down to the present owner, Lord Emory Roxboro, who was, at the opening of our story, seated in his spacious and well-appointed library, perusing a missive which seemed to give him considerable concern.

He was a tall man, well formed, and about forty odd years of age, and to judge from his appearance as he rose to his feet and strode about the softly carpeted room, the letter wrinkled and clutched in his well-manicured hand, he at once presented a striking and dignified appearance. He was clothed in the latest fashion of the day, a massive gold chain dangled from his waistcoat and his gold-rimmed eyeglasses (donned probably for the perusal of the letter that had so agitated him) were perched high on his aristocratic nose, and a huge diamond ring blazed upon the finger of his right hand. He paced the floor nervously and mused as if to himself.

“Why in the name of the Seven Hills of Rome must this happen at this time? Gramercy should take care of his own. Surely, I have no place here for children!”

He glanced at the note again and ringing for a servant, he gave himself a nervous pacing; the servant, a demure young maid of about eighteen, responded to the call and came and stood in the doorway awaiting her master's command.

“Marie,” said he, turning toward her, “my nieces, the Misses Caroline and Freda, will arrive here during the next hour; they are coming by stage and I wish that you would meet them and make them feel at home in the guest chamber. Let me know when they arrive.”

Lord Roxboro again resumed his pacing. He had recently received news of the demise of his only brother, a ne'er-do-well who, almost a pauper, had passed away, undoubtedly in one of his alcoholic excesses, and the two children of this brother Gramercy, who had since an early age been confined by their father in a French convent, and now, upon his death, were being sent to their only living relative, Lord Roxboro, to be under his care.

The father had left them nothing, having drunk up his entire pittance, and now Lord Roxboro, willing or not, was to be blessed with two poor relations. Being a bachelor, he dreaded the charge, not because of the financial strain they might put upon his bankroll, but children, as charges, were a trifle out of his line and the fact that his lazy, drunken brother had absolutely failed to provide for them irritated him and he cursed softly under his breath.

The letter that he held crumpled in his hand was from the superior of the convent, informing him that his two charges were being forwarded to him on the incoming stage. Evidently the letter had been delayed in transit, arriving only that morning.

He tried to recall the appearance of his two nieces upon the last occasion that he had seen them. “Scrawny little brats,” he growled, his brow clouding as he thought back through the years. “I suppose they will destroy the furniture and ruin the entire house. I must contrive to get rid of them speedily.”

In this frame of mind he nervously paced the library, to be awakened from his reverie by the creaking of carriage wheels. Striding to the window with a majestic step, he drew aside the curtains and peered down as the driver sprang from his seat and opened the coach door with a flourish, awaited the occupants to alight.

A feminine figure, her arms loaded with boxes and bags, placed a dainty foot on the step and alighted. Turning, she extended her hand to assist another girl to descend. Mon Dieu! Surely these ravishing creatures could not be his nieces; why, they seemed almost grown women! He watched them as they entered the house and a amp; the coach wheeled away, and he hastily arranged his apparel and proceeded with alacrity downstairs to meet his two nieces.

Marie had already ensconced them in the sitting room and as he entered they laid aside their packages and bundles and were standing demurely together awaiting, as it seemed, his inspection. What a change! Ye Gods! he exclaimed as he gazed at their adorable forms and his mouth watered. Ah! No longer scrawny and thin, as he had remembered them. They wore large roll-brimmed hats, which shaded their rosy faces. These were not the little vixens, the tormentors, he had known but a short few years before.

“Is this Caroline and Freda?” he asked. “My two little nieces?”

“Yes, Uncle Roxboro,” they answered in unison, still holding their heads demurely lowered like a pair of adorable cherubs.

“Well, well, well! Can this be so? What a change a few years has made in you girls. Is this the proper manner in which to greet your uncle? Come, my little cherubs, and bestow a caress of welcome upon your uncle. Kiss me, my pets.”

At this a blush, like unto the crimson pansy, suffused the cheeks of the older and more astute girl. She appeared to be a little older than sixteen, but, approaching her uncle, she drew her sweet, well-formed and rosy lips to his. Placing her soft arms about his neck, she pressed her lips to his and gave him a squeeze. The younger girl, as pretty, if not more so, in her own peculiar type of attractiveness, repeated her sister's act and then upon the invitation of Lord Roxboro they seated themselves and withdrew their silken gloves. This gave him an opportunity to fully inspect his charges, an advantage that he at once availed himself of.

He saw that Caroline, the elder, was no longer a child. No, indeed. The rise and fall of her upturned bosom beneath her tight little bodice gave great promise of delectable beauties concealed beneath the folds of her silken garments, and as she daintily crossed her slim ankles, the form and swell of her beautiful lower extremities proclaimed the fact that she had entered that adorable stage of budding womanhood; her large, lustrous orbs of deep violet-blue looked (questioningly) about the room and as she bit her full, rosy, coral lips between her brilliantly snow-white teeth, regular in their well-shaped whiteness, she made an adorable, distracting picture of youth and beauty.

Many thoughts coursed through the mind of Lord Roxboro as he sat there appraising his adorable nieces, thoughts that boded no good for the virtuous future of the two charming girls, relatives though they might be.

Roxboro was a sensualist, taking his pleasure, no matter in what regard, wherever he found it. He was bored with the sycophants that surrounded him and uttered their tiresome praises continually, and he promised himself to take full advantage of this manna delivered into his arms as if from the very heavens.

Freda, the younger of the two sisters, also became the object of his careful scrutiny. A trifle smaller in stature than Caroline, she had not as yet reached that divine stage of development that made itself manifest in her elder sister, but the elegant, slender lines of her delectable form gave very good promise of a beauty divine. She differed from Caroline in many respects, her eyes being a deep, doelike brown, her skin a trifle darker in color but fine in texture. She moved about uneasily in her new surroundings.

“Forgive me, nieces,” cried Lord Roxboro, giving an uneasy laugh and starting himself from the pleasant train of thought that had been engendered in his sensual mind at the sight of these delectable darlings. “You must want to change your gowns and repair the ravages and damages of your long and tiresome journey. Marie! Conduct the ladies to the guest chamber.”

Lord Roxboro saw no more of his young charges until that evening at supper. Clad in new frocks, they entered the dining room and, after curtsying to their uncle, seated themselves at the table demurely. As Lord Roxboro lived alone, except for his few servants, only the three were present for dinner.

An excellent repast was served. The lord plied his charges with questions in regard to their life in the convent. The younger girl, Freda, seemed quite lively and full of life, laughing and joking. Caroline, burdened perhaps by the consciousness of her greater age and dignity, due to her budding womanhood, was more reserved; her eyes, as they encountered the lord's burning ones, dropped to her plate and a telltale flush overspread her beautiful countenance. She was evidently conscious of her sex and fidgeted nervously under her uncle's sensual gaze, blushing to the roots of her auburn hair and partaking of but little food, mostly sitting toying idly with her fork and eating but small nibbles of this and that.

By skillful and adroit questioning the lord ascertained that the two lovely creatures had been in different classes at the convent and had not slept in the same dormitory. This was fully in accord with his plans, and almost hugging himself with glee, he ordered Marie, the maid, to prepare two rooms, one on each side of his library, for the adorable damsels. At the conclusion of the repast he retired to his library to read and meditate, the girls each going to her room to rest after their travels of the day.

Evening fell and the servants, their daily tasks finished, prepared to retire to their own quarters outside of the mansion. The lord heard his two charming nieces moving about in their respective rooms, probably setting their things in order. Both rooms were entered from the hall, his own being reached through the library, although a door to each of the girls' chambers also opened from the library.

Opening the door to Freda's room, Lord Roxboro found her busily engaged in unpacking her boxes and stowing her apparel away in the drawers of a chest.

“Ah, right at home already, I see,” he said, laughing as he chucked her gaily under the dimpled chin. “I suppose you are tired, my adorable little niece, from your long ride?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I am very tired and I am sure I shall sleep quite soundly. In fact, to be quite frank, I'm almost asleep on my feet right now, dear uncle.”

“All right, pet,” he said, pinching her again. “Go right to bed and tomorrow when you have had an opportunity to rest yourself, I will show you about the estate. Good night.” And leaving the room, he carefully closed and locked the door behind him.

He then cautiously approached the door on the other side of the library, leading to the divine Caroline's apartment and tapping softly upon the panel, he gently turned the knob and softly opened the door and entered. Caroline was engaged in the same task as her sister had been, placing her apparel in order, and upon the entrance of her uncle she rose to her feet and faced him. Her face was flushed and rosy, probably from the stooping attitude she had been in while unpacking her clothing. Her violet eyes sparkled like twin stars.

“I see you are very busy, Caroline,” he said, closing the door behind him and giving her a careful inspection, his eyes bright with passionate desire as they fairly ravished the girl's beauteous form.

“Yes, uncle,” she replied in a low murmur with a rather confused air. “I'm packing away some of my things.”

“Tired?” he asked.

“A little,” she replied. “You know, we had a long trip and it was rather fatiguing.”

“Well,” said he, “if you are not too tired, there are certain things I wish to discuss with you and I would be glad if you would come to see me in the library before you retire.”

“Certainly, uncle,” she replied demurely.

“I will call for you when I am ready,” he said. “I will rap on your door when I wish you. You may finish putting your things away.” So saying he left the room and closed the door. Opening the door that led into the vestibule, he looked about to see that all the servants had departed the house. Reentering the library, he closed the door and slipped the bolt.

Tiptoeing over to the door of Freda's room, he bent his ear to listen and was rewarded with the sound of heavy, regular breathing, indicating that the youngster, tired from the day's activities, was fast asleep.

Seating himself for a few moments in his easy chair, he allowed his mind to speculate upon the future pleasures which seemed about to be his, alone in his house with such charming creatures, his sensual nature suggesting many delights to which he would treat himself. Allowing sufficient time for Caroline to have finished her task of arranging her clothing, he went to the door, tapped upon it and said, “Come in now, dear; I am ready for you.”

Caroline opened the door of the room and stepped slowly inside. At a motion from her uncle, she seated herself on a couch and he, reseating himself in his easy chair, surveyed her from head to foot. She blushed nervously under his burning gaze and the lord, tearing his eyes from their appraisal of this luscious creature, folded his hands and addressed her: “I think, Caroline, that you will like it here.”

“Yes, uncle, I'm sure I will.”

“First,” said her uncle, crossing his legs and regarding her fixedly and somewhat sternly, “there are certain matters that we must discuss. That is why I had you come in. Your father-” He paused as he saw the girl's great violet eyes fill with tears at the mention of her father. “Your father,” he went on, “either could not or did not make any provision for yourself or your young sister. You are therefore both dependent upon me, as you have no other relatives. Without me you would therefore become public charges; you understand that, I suppose?”

“Yes, uncle,” she replied, tears coursing down her alabaster cheeks as she bowed her head. “We know you have been very good to us and I want you to know that Freda and I both appreciate it very much.”

“I am glad, Caroline, that you realize this,” he said. “Freda is too young to fully appreciate the situation you are in and it is for that reason that I am talking to you tonight. Your conduct will govern not only your own fate but that of your sister as well. I am sure that I won't be disappointed in you, Caroline.”

“I hope, uncle,” she replied, “that you will never have cause to regret your noble action in taking two unfortunate girls under your tender care; I assure you that we will both respect and adore you and will do our best to please you in every possible manner.”

“A pauper and a public charge is indeed an unpleasant thing, and a sad thing,” he said musingly, as though talking to himself, but artfully watching between his lowered lids the look of extreme terror that crossed the girl's features. “I wonder”-at this he turned and faced her-“I wonder if you really mean what you say? I wonder if I can be sure that in doing this benevolent act, in taking you girls into my home, I can be sure of your respect and obedience in all matters? Girls are headstrong creatures, you know.”

“Oh, uncle,” quivered the distressed maiden, reproachfully, “how could you doubt me? You have taken us into your wonderful home and surely you must not think we would ever be ungrateful to you.”

“It is easy enough to say that you pledge yourself to obedience and respect, but perhaps your ideas and mine might not agree at times, and then what would be your reactions?”

“Oh, uncle,” she replied, “I am sure you can believe me when I say we will do everything in accordance with your slightest of wishes.”

“Well, here is the situation, then; I am not a harsh man, but I do not propose to be taken advantage of on that account. I will agree to take you girls into my home on the same basis as though you were my daughters, but I will not be crossed in my wishes or plans for you. I must be the judge of your conduct; I must be the court of last resort as to what you will or will not do; I must be consulted in every plan and I will not be disobeyed; you must agree to conform to my every wish. For my part I will treat you kindly and take the best care of you that my wealth may command. Your course is open to you; you may remain here under those conditions, or you may make whatever other arrangements you see fit.”

“Oh, uncle. Of course Freda and I will both be just like daughters to you and do everything you say, and I am sure we can make you love us, we will be such good girls.”

“Well then, that's settled,” said he. “Come over and sit upon my knee,” he commanded. She rose immediately and gracefully came over to him, her face crimson, and sank upon his knee. She was apparently confused and embarrassed, but could hardly refuse the first request her uncle made, after having just agreed to obey him in all things.

He put his arm around her and drew her to him, kissing her passionately; she lay passive, permitting his embraces but returning them only lukewarmly.

His hand fell to her knee and he began to rub up and down her leg. Her face flushed a deep red, her eyes were closed and she murmured softly, “Oh, uncle, I don't think you ought to do that; the sisters taught us that it isn't very nice for a girl to permit a man to touch her body.”

^Now, Caroline,” he said, with a laugh, “the first thing we are going to do is to remove from your mind a great many things that the sisters taught you. I am your uncle and I certainly have a right to pet you,” pinching her thigh, which swelled beautifully from her knee to her hip. Her soft body lay in his arms and he could feel the round buttocks pressing against his leg as she sat upon his knee. He kissed her repeatedly-hot, passionate, sensual kisses which embarrassed the girl without seeming to provoke a response in kind. Holding her flaming face close, he kissed her entire countenance, her eyelids, her rosy cheeks, her wildly throbbing temples. Finally, loosening his arm from about her neck, he lifted his head, his sensual eyes almost starting from their sockets, and allowed his beautiful and panting charge to relax.

“Oh, uncle, uncle! Your kisses,” she murmured, as if about to swoon fairly away. “Your kisses, they seem to bum me so.” Lord Roxboro by this time was in a perfect ferment of delirious passion; he held the tender girl close to him and dropping an eager and trembling hand to the front of her dress, squeezed and molded the two swelling orbs that seemed to be strained as if to the bursting point. The confining hands held their perfect contours and squeezed them through the silken coverings. Caroline, her maidenly modesty aroused, strove with a weak hand to push this intruder away from her orbs of womanhood, but found her tiny fingers, like so many little white captives, enmeshed in her uncle's much larger and stronger digits.

“No, uncle! No! No! I beg of you,” she murmured in a low tone of voice as she snuggled about in an endeavor to evade his touches. “You must not-you must not touch me there. Oh, please don't!”

“Are you seeking an excuse to have me drive both yourself and your sister away from this house, from under my care? To have you sent to the poorhouse, where by right you belong?” he breathed, his voice hoarse with suppressed passion as he still fondled her breasts through the tight coverings.

“No! No!” murmured Caroline, this dread picture causing her to give vent to an involuntary shudder of fear. “We want to both stay here with you, uncle. But, uncle, you know it is not right for you to feel my person in this manner. Please let me go.”

“Silence, girl,” cried Lord Roxboro. “I will be very gentle with you and promise not to hurt you in the least-I merely wish to see how you have grown since I last saw you, my dear girl.”

“But, uncle-” she remonstrated as he unfastened the clasps that held the upper portion of her gown and allowed the front of it to descend, exposing her silken chemise and inserting his hand, caressed in its smooth warmness the panting bare flesh of her tender bosom. “Oh please, uncle, I beg of you,” she cried, and raising her hand, she endeavored to replace her dress, covering his hand in the attempt as he wildly tweaked and pressed and molded her tender pulsating globes.

Despite the beseeching looks from her eyes, turning toward him as if for succor, he continued his manipulations and handlings, and seizing one of the struggling girl's bubbies between his strong fingers, he drew it entirely out of its cosy covering and allowed it, naked and quivering, to lie bare before his sensual and lascivious gaze. Bending over her flaming face, he kissed her repeatedly and passionately. Transferring his attentions to her coral lips, he caressed them repeatedly; titillating the snowy surface of her bosom with his fingers, he held her to his bosom firmly.

The young girl struggled and kicked about in a wild desire to escape the hot burning caresses that were forced upon her by her passionate relative, and wildly beat her tiny hands against the head that was buried in her snowy bosom, his lips seeking out a standing nipple and biting the strawberry tip in gentle constriction. Lord Roxboro, compelled to desist for a moment, allowed her to escape from his embrace, and she sprang to her feet and, throwing herself upon the couch, burst into tears that would have melted a heart of iron.

Her cruel uncle, far from pitying her whom in his passionate desires he had forced to submit to so many strange feelings that had heretofore been unknown to her, surveyed the tearful beauty as she lay there, sobbing as if her heart would break. To his sensual mind she presented a lovely picture as she lay there, her clothing in disorder, her skirts reefed up about her adorable legs, displaying an expanse of well-turned calf; and after viewing this scene for a moment or two he spoke gently to the weeping maiden.

“Caroline! Caroline! Look at me, I want to talk to you.”

“Oh, uncle, uncle,” she sobbed. “I never thought you would treat me in this nasty way.”

“Caroline!” he said in a stern voice. “Do not act like a silly child; do you want me to instantly turn you out of the house, out on the road, into the cold, cruel world? Or do you prefer to do as I wish? Come, answer me at once. Do you want to remain here, with your sweet sister, or do you want to go?”

“Yes, uncle,” she sobbed after an interval. “I want to stay here, but oh, I wish you wouldn't embarrass me so by making me submit to these things that you have been doing-you know I can't leave here-we would have nowhere to go and you really oughtn't to take advantage of me in this way.”

“Well and good,” cried Lord Roxboro, “that's more like a sensible girl. Dry those foolish tears and come over here to me.

The girl slowly arose from the couch and walked hesitantly over to her uncle, the tears still streaming from her reddened eyes.

“Stand here,” he ordered, “directly in front of me.” He spread his legs and drew her to him. Reaching up, he again drew forth the beautiful rounded breasts, allowing them to stand forth wantonly from her open dress. The girl was embarrassed and, closing her eyes, she turned her head, overcome with modesty and shame at this exposure of her maidenly charms.

Lord Roxboro, passing an arm about her pliable lower form, drew the unresisting girl close to him. She held her arms close to her sides, her tiny fists tightly clenched, but when his hot hand fell to her calf and began to stroke her leg, she attempted to draw away.

“No, Caroline,” he soothed, “we have been all over that. Now, bear in mind if my patience is exhausted, something dire will be the consequence; stand close to me and allow me to have my pleasure and it will soon be over.”

She made no reply, simply hoping the ordeal would soon be over. He grasped the silken clad leg in his hand and, moving the fingers slowly upward, marveled at the magnificent proportions of her well-rounded calf. She squirmed slightly under this manipulation of her lower extremities but made no resistance. Passing his hand slowly up to her knee, he dallied for a moment with her garter buckle; then higher and higher he passed his hot hand, caressing the smooth, warm, tender flesh of her upper thigh, which was open to his touch beneath the lower protecting hem of her drawers.

She withstood his indecent explorings for a moment, then pulled herself away from him with a cry, pushing down the front of her dress, which had been raised during his pawing, and then rushing once more to the couch, she threw herself thereon and burst into tears.

This action exasperated the lord almost to frenzy. His prong now at fever heat, he was impatient with this stubborn virgin who could not be touched.

Leaping from his seat he pursued the unhappy maiden. “Ha! Proud pauper that you are! I will have you and your sister thrown out of this house at once. Your protestations of obedience come from the lips only-you have no intention of obeying me in any matter that does not meet your approval. Very well, then. Out with you. Get your sister and take yourselves out of this house, out into the world, and see what sort of treatment you will receive there. You treat your uncle as though he were an animal or a vile being. See if the world will give you any better treatment, once you are out of here. Get your sister and get out, both of you, this instant. I won't bother with such a stubborn creature as you seem to be!”

“No, uncle, no, no!” she cried, tears streaming down her lovely face as she looked upward into his frowning countenance. “I will do as you say, I really will-you embarrassed me, that is all. Please don't turn us out into the world, and I will do anything. Please give me just one more chance!”

“Well,” he growled, “one and only one more will you have, you brazen hussy.” Pulling her roughly to her feet his eyes burning with desire, he drew her closely to him. “I will take no chances with you this time, young lady! Go to your room immediately and bring me that hairbrush from your dresser! Quick!”

The frightened girl flew to her room and returned immediately with the silver-mounted hairbrush, which she handed to her uncle. Seating himself as before, he commanded the frightened and trembling maiden to come to him and stand as she had before, directly before him. Laying the brush on the taboret beside his chair, he again introduced his hand under her garments and began to toy with her limbs.

She stood perfectly still, too frightened to move or remonstrate. As his wanton hand strayed up her thigh, touching her bare skin, she gave a little shudder. His nervous hands explored her person, caressing the warm and rounded thighs, and then ventured toward that portion of her person which contained her most secret and delightful charms. As his hand touched her lower belly, her body involuntarily shrunk as she attempted to close her legs upon the sensitive grotto in an effort to defend herself against this rough invader. Wiggle and twist as he would, he found it impossible to introduce his fingertips between her tightly pressed thighs in order to touch her maidenhead. Abandoning his attempt at her crevice, his hand wandered upward toward her belly. Grasping the waistband of her panties, he jerked so that the buttons broke, allowing the drawers to drop slightly until supported by her hips. Her chemise he furled upward, allowing her belly to be naked, his hot fingers manipulating the soft roundness of her abdomen. Her satiny stomach quivered and trembled under his grasp. Now, grasping the top of her drawers, he pulled and tore the filmy material, which rended in a long tear, and he pulled the garment downward to her knees, exposing the whole front of her body. As he did so, the shamed girl dropped to her knees, crouching before him in a desperate effort to retain some shreds of her maidenly modesty.

He had not yet succeeded in touching her secret charms and, losing his patience, he seized the nipple of one of her bare breasts between his fingers and, giving it a cruel twist, shouted, “On your feet! On your feet, girl; stand up, I tell you!”

“Oh, uncle!” sobbed the blushing damsel, the tears dripping from her beautiful azure orbs. “You hurt me! You hurt me!”

“On your feet, I said,” he cried, continuing to tweak the tender nipple. “I have had enough of your foolish behavior; you would test the patience of a saint! Stand up, before I really hurt you!”