The du’Chere Effect

[Men of Skye]

Two days after the coronation and Adam still contemplated the secession of Lewis-Harris, and the fact that he had a half-brother who had taken the name du’Chere, and now controlled it. Maybe it was wise for the man to take another name, as Maubrey was ill-thought of, at least in the Nations. The things that went thru his mind were not repeated to anyone, even his beloved wife, who despised anything related to Maubrey.

What Adam wanted most was to befriend his half-brother… but the double nature of it, the symbolic taste of what it feels like to be two-sided. Unknowingly, the pair was split in a much more devastating way than psychology could ever reveal. Both were of the same Father, the despised and evil Lord William; but of different Mothers. Adam and James were the opposing brothers effectively acting as statement and counterpoint, to be played off against each other with differing degrees of intensity, as Lord William’s plan intended. Indeed, the brothers' are diametrically opposing extremes, yet Adam believed his brother had some good in him… possibly as he himself did with traits of Davina. He would research James’ mother, and see if possibly a gentler side of the man existed. This, and this alone, prevented Adam from throwing his brother in the dungeon and setting armed aggression to Leòdhas agus na Hearadh .

Was Adam too soft, as Eamonn had commented on several times… or was it the optimist in him? Could he turn the secession of Lewis-Harris into an adavantage? These and more plagued him for the last two days…

If you asked 100 people whom they thought was the most evil man who ever lived, the majority of them in the Nations would give the title to Lord William Maubrey. Through murder of family, imprisonment of opponents, and the destruction of towns without hesitation, earned him the distinction by being Skye’s most documented oppressor. In his dreams past, Adam had seen the Bull facing the Griffin on a field of battle… and that dream eventually came to fruition between he and his Father. But he had no dreams of James… and he took that at good faith.

Is evil hereditary? How does one become evil? Adam would decree that behavior is both nature and nurture - people born into criminal families do not have to become criminals, it is a choice. He would explain that sometimes there is no background reasoning…. power and control and the pleasure to inflict pain and fear - for their own personal enjoyment...

Most people, who use manipulation, deceit, and the infliction of injury, pain, and fear, do so upon others as a form of power and control. They require this power to feel in control of their own lives, to feel bigger and better than everyone else, to be able to control other people and make them do what they want.

Adam would further state… “You can come from an evil family, but it does not necessarily mean you CAN be influenced; it reduces free-will and choice to dust, but It really does depend on individual character and education - I do not think we are 'born' without a conscience, we 'choose' to ignore it - and like Socrates, I believe those who are 'evil' are merely ignorant.”

This is how Adam would describe his brother… being both of them from the same father, and different mothers.

James returned to Stornoway after planting the seed… He had met his brother… finally after all the years. It was only a few days after their return that he asked Beka to send for Albert. To her surprise, James wanted his family together… In his own mind, he would legitimize Albert as his son… and her, his wife… for publically, and illegally, they were already married… but he had decided to make it official and legal. That next night, they had a secret ceremony, with just him, her, and the priest and one witness, a man James trusted with his life.

In the days that followed, seeing Albert lying in the small bed or playing in the room, he had decided to forego all that his Father had taught him… and use what he had learned, and gained, on his own… Sitting in his office, he wrote in his journal. “Upon my trip to Turas Lan, I saw many who would just have spit at me than speak to me… I found that my brother is a good man, popular, forthright… and he has a country that bows down gladly… I, I am to force people to their knees…”

Was James considering his brother’s path was more profitable than his Father’s? He continues to write… “Father was despised… considered evil… but Adam is loved… Have I set my path upon a foundation of sand, or into a briar patch? Do I have a bad reputation? Perhaps the phrase conjures up visions of dueling in the arena, but the fact remains that a bad reputation is not to be taken lightly. Shall I put Beka and Albert in harm’s way to gain what my Father task me with so many years ago?” he dipped the quill into the well… just as Beka escorted Albert into his room.

Further more, he writes... “Love? What is this strange thing that Beka feels for me? Is it love? For if it is, then I lavish it… she accepts me for how I am now. What if I seek another path… To associate myself with men of good quality?” he pauses again looking at the flickering candle, returning the quill to its residence.

It was then that Beka entered the room… and James blew on the wet ink… then closed the book. “Is Albert ready to be tucked in?”

"All ready, Da!" Two and a half year old Albert slipped from holding Rebbeka's hand and ran full force ahead to James, little bare feet padding along the flooring, with his little arms held out wide and nightshirt billowing like a sail. "Pick me up. Pwease." He had Beka's light blond hair and smiled as often as she did, but the boy already resembled James, especially to the eyes, true Maubrey sea-green eyes. The child was glad to see du'Chere from the first he met his father. In that, Albert had copied how little Loomis greeted his dad Clovis, after a long separation. "Will you tell me a story about horses?"

James picked up his son, and held him high in the air… just as he did everytime he picked him up. “One day, yu shall be too big for me to pick up… maybe I shall have yu pick ME up…” then he drew the lad in close and kissed his cheek. He nodded to the nanny letting her know she could retire as well.

At the far doorway, middle-aged Nanette, the nanny, waited, so proud how pure was the child's French language accent. She faded away, off to her room for the night.

"I should like a story about horses, as well." Rebbeka stood close enough that Albert could wrap an arm about each of his parents. To Beka, how they came to this point in life, she did not think about. Legally married and the child heir to both of their fortunes and James' title, was beyond her dreams. Were they shopkeepers, she would be as happy with their little family. James was her strength, her leader and she would follow him anywhere.

He canted his head around Albert and looked at his wife. “Oh really, MiLady…” he teased as she neared and the lad pulled her into a hug as well.

"Family hug!" Another thing Loomis taught the little boy how to be affectionate to his family. The three of them walked to the boy's room to begin the evening tuck-in routine. A story, a prayer, and lots of laughing with the blanket tucked under Albert's chin, it ended with good-night kisses from his parents. They gave their child what neither of them had and the little child showed them both the way.

James laughed at Albert and the three hugged one another. James told his son a short story about horses… and then added more adult story with coded words, a child of 2 ½, would not understand. A smile, a kiss upon the forehead, and he tucked the blanket under the lad’s chin. He stood at the doorway and watched Beka bend and kiss their son… and sea-green eyes sparkled in the dimlit candle.

Previously that day in Turas Lan, Parliament had convened and the King attended a session based upon two new incentives…a new taxation office and the secession of Lewis-Harris. The first item on the agenda was the new tax office that would pass with ease. The rest of the morning, Adam would sit upon the throne listening to debates over the good and bad side of the Isle’s secession. James had selected a fine orator to represent him in session, but Adam had wished he had summoned his brother. Listening and comprehending, Adam said nothing during the whole debate.

The debate was heated. Men attacked one another with passion volleys on the subject of Lewis-Harris, not knowing that the words in Parliment reached the ears of the Queen who was being enertained in Struan on behalf of the coronation. The orator's words were delivered on parchment to Beathag by the hand of her personal scribe, Gwylliam ap Brecon. She yearned for words from Adam's hand, but knew they would not come.

In some ways, she would still need retain her wit to practice equal rule. He kept talk of the Maubrey away from her. Did he not know that she would admit her wrong of the Lady Anywn, now gone by her true name of Eryn, or of her man Jontathon? Both of them had been on Maubrey's right hand, and now both were free to live their lives devoid of him. It was not the name she distrusted, nor all things that were of Maubrey origin for she could never detest the woman who had loved her as much as her own son, nor the fact it was Davina that bore Adam with Maubrey as a sire.

"It looks as if the session may be a close truth."

"Aye, m'lady, it looked that way on the floor."

"Ye will send me anymore word o' it. Give the King m'love and the missing of his presence, n' bestow m'love, affections, and the gifts of Struan upon the children and him."

"Of the parliment?"

"Ah will tell him wot Ah know when next he is seen. Take yer leave."

For this task, the Welshman served not only as the hand her penned the news, but the one who delivered it. He stayed only long enough to perform his duty, refresh his horse, and partake of water before beginning the ride back to the city where no one would miss him.

She stood on the balcony of her suite, watching from Dun Durroch his depature. What he didn't know was that he took all of his musings with her. Did she detest what was Maubrey? No, she feared certain aspects. The mind of such men were seducing, brilliant things. All of them that were Maubrey had this mind, it was only to what way the mind was bent - this the trick - that mattered. William Maubrey murdered for his greater glory and went unpunished for years, seducing those he had murdered before hand in some way or another. Her mother was not fooled, but pulled headlong into the mystery he made. Davina, her father, her sisters were in the way of a great prize. England, too, fell at the altar of his genius! It was the same hell-bent precision working behind the eyes of sea-green that had nearly sent her rising out of her chair, and screaming from the room. It was enough to stop blood!

What was he telling Lewis-Harris, similar to the poison his father had fed him? What had he done to make what he had possible where it shouldn't be? The answer was one she may never wish to know but was destined to discover. Hands pressed against the top of the railing as she considered Adam's former duty as Protector of Scotland, as its Lion under Robert Bruce. Had not she thought it made to bring to the fold other nations who should stand as soveriegn, but not them as the sovereigns? His mind danced on epic floors made of warrior designs when he took England, and she had once spoken with the former Advisor in fear that she might lose him to his ambition no matter how good it was. This was the difference. Adam was good, his ends moving toward just means. James was opposite, wasn't he?

The Gaelic Nations, governed under the freedoms established by the King, is a sanctuary for people fleeing oppression. Dissidents, troublemakers, radicals, the founders have been labeled many things. They are those who took a stand against tyranny and injustice; those who spoke out against inequality, often in the face of intimidation. Considered as enemies of the state, they formed a new realm – a haven where their voices would not be silenced.

Skye holds the promise of political, religious, and cultural freedom – and the opportunity to increase one’s own standing based upon the drive and motivation of one’s self. The magnet for professionals as well as the less skilled is the chance to earn higher wages and maintain a better standard of living than was possible in their old country…

Thus, little is more surprising than the decision to migrate… the accumulation of emotions and thoughts which finally leads a family to say farewell to a district where it has lived for centuries, to abandon old ties and familiar landmarks, and to sail across dark seas to a strange land … There were probably as many reasons for coming to Skye as there were people who came... Yet it can be said that three large forces – Celtic persecution, English oppression, and freedom, provided the chief motives for the mass migrations to Skye’ shores.

James Maubrey, also known as James du’Chere, a man who believed that the leaders of a revolution are usually those who have been able to profit by the cultural advantages of the system they are attacking, and the Gaelic Revolution was no exception to this rule.

James learned military tactics, sophisticated speaking and writing techniques, and leadership throughout his life under his Father… traits that later were crucial to his successes in leading Lewis-Harris to independence. A deceitful and dishonest man, who now controlled a rich vibrant land, whose economy is bolstering from the call of the Gaelic Renaissance.

Was James a result of Adam’s call for the Gaelic Renaissance? One thing he had learned from his Father… and his time at Court as a Frenchman, was although aristocrats were always eager to keep the nobility an exclusive club, King Philip saw power to create new aristocrats as a highly effective tool for maintaining the loyalty of his nobles, and putting more able commoners into positions of power. He related the Celtic King… his brother Adam… similar to King Philip.

But, James knew there can be only one man at the top. While it was difficult to depose a king, and grab the crown for oneself, it was possible for a mere noble to become a great noble, a magnate. There were two ways to do this… one, by taking from the king or your fellow nobles, or two, by becoming an invaluable servant of your king. He knew fighting other nobles, and especially the King, was usually a losing proposition. But a grateful monarch would usually reward his faithful, and able, nobles with more land and titles. There was plenty of work to do, for many nobles took the other road, making war or scheming to take from the king and other nobles. As powerful as the king was, he could never do it himself. He needed allies, to deal with those who would not be allies. James was now one of those allies with King Philip and a close confident to several members of nobility at Court. This was his initital plan regarding the take-over of Lewis-Harris.

But….

What establishes a person’s identity? What changes this personal identity? A first-class revolt against the accepted Celtic order was certainly taking place during those early years of the Griffin reign, and it was one with which Adam Aberdeen had much to do with. The shock troops of the rebellion were not agitators, but the sons and daughters of well-to-do Celtic families, who knew little about freedom and cared distinctly less, and their defiance was expressed not in obscure radical writings or in soap-box speeches. Conservative men were still shivering at the Griffin menace when they awoke to the no less alarming government of freedom, and realized that if the land were not in danger, the chivalrous and feudal code of the country certainly was. James fell into opportunities that fit into the new Government.

Emotional processes are plainly relevant to moral change. One of the main drivers of moral change is human contact. When we associate with other people and share common goals, we extend to them our fondness. Increases in freedom, travel, and access to information as well as political and economic interdependence mean that we associate with many more people than our grandparents and even our parents. As our social circle widens, so does our moral circle. But the explanation of this contact theory is limited. Contact cannot explain the birth of new moral ideas, such as the value of freedom.

A person only changes for the better when he understands that something which he is doing is ‘bad’, when formerly he thought that it was ‘good’. If there were no connection between good and evil, a person could not reach this understanding. A person might turn to crime because it may be the only way that he can survive economically: survival is felt to be a ‘good’, and more important than social disharmony. Or a person may turn to organised crime as the only way to acquire power: power is felt to be a ‘good’, a ‘good’ which he cannot experience otherwise in his social circumstances. With the influences acquired from his Father, whom he idolized, he assumed he was doing the right thing. But the longer he was around Adam… and took in prospective of what he and his court were accomplishing, his thought process was beginning to waver. Change of character in a positive way, can only work if good and evil are related to each other, that is, if there is a connection between them. The connection between good and evil enables character change to occur, but it can occur in both directions. Badness can change into goodness, and goodness into badness.

James personality was like an unfinished painting. Factors influencing him were social and status changes, the death of his father, the birth of a son, and his marriage to a woman that seemed to fit the bill. Now James stood on the veranda of Dun Charlabhaigh Castle, the scroll from his brother Adam announcing his arrival to Stornoway in 10 days… Would the painting of his life add yet another layer of events? What he thought, and done, before, is not what he thinks, and does, now… but how could he convince his brother… and his sister-in-law that he no longer stood in the light of Lord William? In the shadows of the Maubrey curse?

[Men of Skye]

The letter with the royal seal arrived and the King’s messenger was escorted to the Duke’s reception chamber. As the man bowed before James, the valet took the message and handed it to the Duke. James cracked the seal, opening it, and reading it, he smiled. “Send the King my most gracious appreciation of his arrival.” Then James dismissed the messenger and with a smile, looked at the valet. “Tell my wife, the Duchess Rebbeka, to meet me in my quarters…”

As James rose, the valet departed, and he made his way to the bedchambers to tell his wife of the King’s arrival. The letter informed James that after the trial of traitors in Struan, the royal family would be coming to Stornoway… which he assumed was 10 days… This is, what he informed his beloved wife.

"Only ten days, James? It will have to be enough time to get the guest quarters ready; change out the tapestries there to the forest set, I think." Beka thought in terms of what impression to make with hospitality. "Venison with the burgundy wine sauce and I have a recipe for strawberry cakes.." She already was in the conference with the cook mode. "Music and dancing? Will they dance? I do hope the Weapon Master and his wife attend; it was so fun watching them dance." Their first very important visitors were coming and Rebbeka was even less calm than her agitated state indicated. In a more sober mood, Wife du'Chere turned to James and leaned one hand upon his arm and looked up into his eyes, saying, "In all seriousness, is this the interview, the visit that will make or break us? It frightens me. The King will be meeting Albert?" Would the little boy make a good impression? She had no idea if the King tolerated children not his own. It was not like Beka to be over-serious, for she always found a way to smile in the face of Lord knows what. "I shall have to remind the maid to close the draperies on the guest room windows. Just in case." recalling their stay here as guests, such a short while ago.

James chuckled and pulled Beka into his arms, her back to his chest. “Ten days is plenty of time to prepare a welcome for my brother… and King…” he smiled and whispered in her ear. “We are family of the King… and ducals of our own Island…” Then he would begin to kiss her neck as sensual sensation began to fill his loins. Pressing his hips forward against her, they would both spin away from one another as Albert entered the room. James looked to Beka to find her face flushed with pink… and he smirked and winked at her.

“So Master Albert… what shall an Earl of Leòdhas agus na Hearadh wear to a ball?” The child looked at his Father with an odd look… “Anythin Mama tells me too…” was his simplistic response; and that made the parents laugh… James picked up his son and kissed his cheek. “That’s my boy…”

Looking at his wife, James smiled… “Wife, fear not… turn over the tasks to the Chamberlain, allow him to do the job I pay him for…” then James handed the child to his mother.

Okay, so sex anytime and anywhere would not be as before, but the prolific pair could not, and would not, be denied. James would just smirk… Beka would just have to find the time. “List your ball preparations with the Chamberlain and he shall accomplish it…”

When the nanny came and took Albert for a walk outside, James and Beka would be alone once more. “By God Beka… do not fear my brother. This visit shall not make nor break us… We, as we have before, shall make our own destiny… Albert shall be just as charming as ever… Even if he puked upon the King, I do not think we shall be beheaded…” he teased her. And at her last comment, he laughed… “Let the King close his own curtains… or show his arse to all…” and the laughter echoed in the room.

Two days later, the orders came from the King, subsequent to his arrival letter, that concerned James. It was the early release of the 4 first-rate-ships-of-the-line. He had to go back to his shipbuilding foreman to increase the man-power to get the ships finished prior to the due dates… Though the King had enough ships, the new first rates had to be ready as replacements should Skye go to full warfighting capabilities. This in itself would be a feather in Stornoway’s cap should they fulfill the king’s decree ahead of schedule.

The time spent after the second letter was put forth to the increased effort that the King desired, and James’ anticipation of what his brother would like to see from his new Duke. James, just like his Father, was an effective orator, and in every opportunity, secured his interests in Stornoway. One thing was sure, James was a better businessman than his Father ever was… and in effect, was soon loved by the people of Lewis-Harris. People, from all walks of life, soon profited from his business affairs.

Despite his long and busy days… he continued to give the early evenings to his son, Albert, and the late evenings to his wife Rebbeka. As it was one late evening, after dinner, and a two hour session in playing chess with Albert, he made his way to their room… and when Rebekka had finished bathing, he would undress himself, and begin to seduce her in the old ways they were use to.

"James? I have a little surprise for you. I had my portrait painted while the artist and his wife were here, doing our family." Beka hauled out a closed packet from back of their bed's headboard. "Open the door carefully, for it is for your eyes only." It was about three feet tall and about three times the length, a flat board with closed door to it. Beka pulled back the cloth cover and propped the painting against the wainscoating. "This is something you cannot show your brother the King when he comes visiting." She was wearing an embroidered over sheer silk gown, more of a shadow than a garment and turned to observe James' expression when he opened the case.

As his clothes hit the floor into a heap, he turned and looked at her… “A surprise? Now just what could that be?” he said with a smirk. “My eyes only?” then he the smirk formed a bit of an evil twist to it. Then he gave her a confused look.

In the flickering light from the fireplace, across the room, there was enough illumination to see well enough. The image was so lifelike, one had to do a double take. This was 1333 and art had not come to the level of this particular artist, who painted people were as in life. It was the picture she had promised him so long ago, showing his wife reclining against a pile of pillows, adorned only with her long flowing blonde hair. She lounged back and looked from the canvas, in the image, with a look in her eyes James knew so well.

As she revealed the painting, his eyes veered fom the painting to her and back again…and from his lips came forth a small moan of pleasure… “Very interesting m’dear… very to say the least…” as he stood there naked, evidence of his pleasure soon stood erect… “Very…”

"I was hesitant until the Verrows agreed to do this, for you know the church does not think the female figure is worthy of art." The old man and his wife worked as a team. She mixed the colors and set the models in their poses and chatted with the one being painted, so their expression was one relaxed and natural. Gerda was an artist in her own right, but did not do portraits as did Hans.

With a slight twist of his head, he spoke over his shoulder… “I care not what the Church thinks… this is very…um… pleasing…” and he turned to her with his hands upon his hips, and a wicked smirk upon his face.

"Is it to you liking? Although, there is something to be said for being present, live, as well, you know?" Beka did not consider that this picture was going to have to be well hidden, when she had it done.

“Liking? Why of course m’dear…” and he moved to her, his hands slipping back the sheer gown to reveal more of her… “It shall suffice if the real thing is not around…” and as he pressed his warm body against hers, she could feel his hardness between her thighs… “But if the real thing is present…” then he began to nibble at her throat and shoulders…

Within mere seconds, he would have backed her to the wall, and lifted one leg… and with a slight movement, slipped inside her…as she was ready to receive him fully. With an evil smirk she knew so well, he began to move his hips back and forth… and against the tapestry covered stone wall, he took his wife in the most pleasurable way; regarding every facet of her beautiful body… his muscles tensing and flexing to maintain control of her movements against him. And with every stroke in and out of her, he would moan in pleasure… hoping to bring her to not one, but several orgasms before he was finished with her.

Their lovemaking was something special and never boring… the pair would experience life like none other… with no whim left undiscovered… no secret of desire left unrevealed. From their first time, to the present, he would provide her with the fulfillment she required and she in turn, gave him anything he desired, whether action or place…

"James?" Beka asked, as they were about to go to sleep, she used his shoulder instead of a pillow and spoke very quietly. The walls of their room were thick and no one could hear if they wanted, but Rebbeka whispered, as if careful of what she said. "Albert asked if the King and Queen were bringing their children on the visit. He is in awe of the new royalty. Nanette has him practicing a bow proper for greeting a King."

Laying beside her, her head using his shoulder for a pillow, his hand found the top of her hair, stroking it gently. Sated from their lovemaking session, he smiled at her as she spoke his name. Listening, he smiled… “Aye madam, I believe the King’s children shall be in attendance. At least the older ones… My informants said that their arrival in Struan was most unexpected, yet well received.” He smiled again and nodded. “Tis good for the lad to know such trivia… and to be able to return a bow to lesser…” he smirked a bit. “He is of royal blood also… and shall command respect as well…”

She pulled the quilt up under her chin, a long time gesture of wanting to feel safe, one she had back as a child. "I like the Queen very much; I have met her among the people when I was starting my Perfumery. It was to her I petitioned for permission to open my shop in Turas Lan. The King, on the other hand, I have to say I am not comfortable meeting him in our home. I know, he is your relative and I ought to feel this is a friendly visit, but after the, you know, head on stake thing, I have to work at being at ease in his presence."

There was one way that Adam and James were identical… They would provide for their loved ones… by any means. This was not realized by many, save those that they loved with all their hearts. But for James, his cold heart had been warmed by Beka… a feat that some deemed impossible, lo, she had accomplished it without even trying.

As Beka pulled the quilt to her chin, he caressed her face with his hand. “And I am sure she likes yu my dear… and do not fret… I am sure Adam will be most cordial… We, he and I, shall pave the way for a better relationship. He is not like Father, and I am nay also…” he winked… “I am sure we are both like the old man in some ways…but I do nay fear my head upon a stake…”

"I expect there will be some kind of loyalty oath, no matter what the King decides he thinks about your title here in Lewis/Harris. At least the Queen will be with him and I do want to make them both welcome." Her experience and what she had learned as Perfumer for the French court would help her in the days to come.

He shifted his position so he could prop himself upon an elbow and look at her… his hand caressing her face ever so gently. “You worry too much my dear… Oaths are words… Adam is a man of action. I, can deal with both…” he smirked. “I have secured us a place that needs us… You and I can further Lewis-Harris into a new age. Adam is a man of vision… and I know we shall do fine here… much better than the French court, though we did well there as well. There, we were outside the royal family… here we have a niche…”

He could never get enough of her… her soft skin and beautiful hair, her melodic voice, the twinge of accents, and the smile that displayed perfect teeth. He looked at her and his hand would trace her jaw and chin. She was fire and passion… and he enjoyed sex with her… and just the thought of past sessions would spark interest again… He would smirk and move toward her, his mouth enveloping hers into a passionate kiss… and she could feel his desire once again.

The little half smile, his smirk was the spark. By this time, Beka had learned how well the du’Cheres were suited for each other, what move she might do next to continue their time together.

James was an outwardly active person, but his passionate efforts were halted when the door opened and a boy of three toddled into the room and stood at the end of the bed. Peering thru the sheer curtains surrounding the bed, James smiled at Albert as he discussed his wants with his mother. A slight shake of his head and he lay back upon the pillow.

"Make sure you kiss." Albert had told his Mother. "I want a little brother someday, when God grants a soul to him." "Do you not see us kiss, Albert?” Rebbeka was not about to tell such a young child about life too young. "Not good morning kiss, I mean the 'mating kiss'." he told his mother. Their son had spent some time living with a farm family and from his observant ways, asking questions, Albert had a good idea that although God distributed souls, parents had to mate to do their part, too.

“My son, come here…” he spoke in his soft baritone voice. And as Albert saddled alongside the bed, James hefted him up and over him, settling him between his mother and father. “Yu know too much for one so inexperienced…” smiling and ruffling his dark hair. “But I am so proud of you… so intelligent… but you leave the family management to your Mother and I, aye?”

The next few minutes, the ‘family’ teased and played together… though the candles burned low, and the morning sun was merely hours away, the du’Cheres enjoyed valuable family time. James had managed to settle his family down into a lifestyle more befitting their wants and needs… ensuring their son would grow up educated and mannered.

James smiled as Nanette opened the door, beckoning the lad to her… “My son, you must go with yer Nanny… tis late and soon the sun shall find you still asleep…” then he kissed the boy’s head… and smiled as the lad kissed his Mother goodnight. Once again James hefted him and set him upon the floor, a loving pop to his buttocks. “Good night my son…” was said simultaneously by the parents, as if practiced.

James was what Rebbeka thought was the ultimate of handsome men, tall and well muscled, strong enough to lift her in his arms as if without effort, for Beka was a tall young woman. Even through a mask, when they first met, his penetrating look promised he would be intense. Then, she did not know what to expect when they were alone. Over three years had passed, Now. Did she not know what to expect? Not exactly. She knew well what every inch of his skin felt like... tasted. More than that, to the perfumer, was his scent. Was it chemical or pheromones? Beka had no idea. It was something more basic, primitive. James du’Chere smelled good to her. Each part was slightly different from the next, face and neck differed in their aroma. Each bit she had in her memory. In her memory of scents, there was a map of James, so complete, she was able to recall it in sequence, as when reconstructing a complex perfume formula. To her, he was perfection.

Rebbeka relaxed into his passionate kiss, inhaling the air, re-breathing the air they shared and once more was intoxicated.

Once again private, the pair began to explore the passion that both of them bore so well. His hand would caress her face, stroking lightly over her lips until settling on her chin, to which he would lean against her and kiss her, his mouth covering hers, his body pressing close. With a slight shift, his knee would separate her legs and he would settle between her thighs once more. More than willingly ready, she could accept him with ease as his hips pressed against her, touching something deep inside her, he would smirk as she rolled her head back in pleasure.