Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 1
For someone who has long grown accustomed to life in the glittering royal court of London, the scenery of Stonehaven [1] in the autumn could only be described using the words lacklustre and tiresome --- Brett Thomas [2], the Marquess of Wiltshire [3], had been sitting still by a large window in the conservatory on the second floor for more than two hours. The servants were all quite puzzled, just what was it about that lawn --- which had quite a lot of patches of dried and withered grass --- that could captivate the attention of the Marquess for such a long time?
Nevertheless, everybody still had to admit that even when he was the very picture of indolence and boredom, there was still a mysterious charm about him that was reminiscent of the luminaries that had been painted by Titian [4], so that people did not dare to approach him casually.
The Marquess of Wiltshire was currently the most fashionable and desirable figure in high society. If his porcelain skin that was as white as eggshells were any finer or more translucent, the capillaries of his face would almost be visible. His jade-green eyes were clear and crystalline, just like a peppermint sweet of the finest quality. As for his shimmering pale golden hair, its existence was yet another reason for people to envy him. Under the rays of the afternoon sunshine, the peacock-green jacket he was wearing --- cut to epitomize the refined tastes of its owner --- gleamed and gave off flashes of a dark green light that were very complimentary to his eyes.
But this tranquil picture of an autumn afternoon spent in quiet contemplation was quickly disrupted by a manservant who rushed up the stairs in a blind panic. “My Lord, there is a big Scotsman at the door who is raising a ruckus, demanding to see you [5]. Could Your Lordship please go and have a look quickly.”
The name of the manservant who had rushed in was Hugh. Wiltshire had already been reprimanded him several times for his impulsive behaviour and way of doing things but apparently, he had not reformed his ways as a result?
When he saw that panic was written all over the servant's face, the expression on the face of the Marquess also changed in turn. Originally aloof and impassive, it now took on a hint of severity.
“Hugh, I think I have already told you this. Even if the door is open, you should still knock on it before entering into the room.” It wasn’t just his looks that perfectly embodied the most desirable qualities in aristocratic circles at that time, so did his voice --- the lazy drawl carried a slight hint of sarcasm, even the corpulent Prince Regent [6] often daydreamed about being able to have such elegant tones.
“My apologies, my Lord! But that man… that man…”
In actual fact, Hugh was a robust youth who was nearly five feet eight inches in height [7], that someone could cause him to become utterly flustered to the extent of being nearly helpless... Wiltshire could not help but to become curious; could that man be just like the Scottish giants of legend?
“Where is he?” Wiltshire finally rose from the brocade chair he had been seated on for the whole afternoon and stood up. He had been obliged to incline his head down as he asked Hugh the question --- his six-foot-tall body was the only thing about him that rather spoiled the image of an idle aristocrat.
Leaving the matter of his height aside, Wiltshire's figure was actually quite slender --- the Prince Regent had already hinted several times at his desire to embrace Wiltshire's slender waist, although he always tried to pass off these intimations off as jokes afterwards because Wiltshire came from an influential family.
Playing his games within the splendour of the London court, Wiltshire was constantly surrounded by many beautiful upper-class ladies and naturally, he would not countenance the idea of selecting the Prince Regent, who tipped the scales at close to three hundred pounds, as his bed partner. But of late, he had found that this sort of sticky situation was becoming a frequent occurrence and the Marquess could only say that he had to leave for his remote estate in the northern territories to see that it is in order, using this excuse to avoid the Prince Regent's attempts at getting a piece of the action --- after all, the other party was still none other than the most important person in the whole of Britain.
But with the dullness of life in Stonehaven, Wiltshire soon could not find anything else to do except to sit around in a torpor. Although he had had to expend some mental energy to come up with such an ingenious plan to throw off the persistent Prince Regent, but Wiltshire was already seriously considering returning to London and going back to immersing himself in a life that was full of dancing in ballrooms and socialising in gentlemen's clubs.
“WHERE IS HE?” As if he had not heard the question the first time that it had been asked, Hugh only raised his head to stare dumbly up at the Marquess' face; finally Wiltshire had had enough and could not help but to roar at him.
“… That way, my Lord… my apologies… I’ll bring you over there…” As if he had been startled awake from a dream, Hugh shivered uncontrollably and babbled out an incoherent reply.
He followed at the back of the youth as they proceeded to a window sill on the same floor but at another wing of the manor. Looking out, Wiltshire immediately saw the Scotsman in question; he was currently fighting against several of Wiltshire’s male servants.
The Scotsman was quite tall, he was probably almost as tall as Wiltshire himself, or perhaps he could even be a bit taller than him. The deep flaxen colour of his hair and eyes, along with the tartan kilt he wore, were clear indications of his lineage. Wiltshire narrowed his eyes as he took the measure of the man who was still struggling against four of Wiltshire's brawny servants as the sunlight shone down upon them.
Drops of perspiration glimmered on the man's suntanned skin, making his common facial features look vivid and even striking as a result.
The man's Scottish kilt left an expanse of leg uncovered, and because he was exerting his strength as he strained against his foes, the muscle of his thighs stood out in sharp relief, clear evidence of his astounding strength.
However, the plaid [8] that was draped around the man's upper body, which featured the same tartan pattern as the kilt he wore, was worn by Scotsmen as part of their traditional dress at only the most important of ceremonies.
So what was it that had caused this man to abandon a ceremony midway so as to intrude upon Wiltshire's estate and raise an uproar? Wiltshire knitted his brows into a frown. Although he did not consider himself to be a particularly wise Lord of the Manor [9] but by his own reckoning, he had not ever brutalized any of the tenant farmers that worked his lands.
“Winifred! Winifred!” The man was unable to get past the blockade set against him at the moment and instead he began to shout loudly.
That was clearly a woman's name but Wiltshire could not remember having any female servants with that name in his employ. He furrowed his brows further and asked Hugh, who was at his side: “Who is this Winifred? Why is he looking for that person here?”
“My Lord, I swear that I have never heard of someone with that name before.” The youth's face took on an expression of embarrassment, evidently, he was feeling ashamed that he was unable to answer his Master's question.
Feeling some regret that he had actually bothered to ask any further questions of a blockhead like Hugh, Wiltshire decided to put a stop to the farce that was taking place at the doorsteps of his manor personally.
“John, Wilson, Brad, Pat! That's enough, stop fighting, let that man approach.”
The four strong and vigorous menservants almost immediately seemed to stop making any further action. Clearly, their efforts at restraining the Scotsman had left them totally exhausted.
The Scotsman raised his head, besides the obvious unfriendliness on his face, there was also a kind of pure curiosity in his expression and at the moment he laid eyes on Wiltshire's face, his expression changed to one of shock. As for Wiltshire, there was something in the Scotsman’s gaze that immediately reminded him of an innocent child and much to his own surprise, it actually caused his heart to give a strong, hard beat in response.
“Sir, please come to the drawing room, and then you will explain properly why you feel the need to cry and shout on my doorstep.” Wiltshire gained mastery over his own emotions, calming them rapidly and then gave his orders using an affronted tone of voice that was befitting a lord whose territory had been violated.
The Scotsman was clearly entranced by Wiltshire's exquisitely beautiful appearance; as if in a dream he followed behind the footsteps of the servant, even stopping quite a few times to raise his head, looking around to confirm that Wiltshire had not been a mere figment of his imagination.
After a few minutes, Wiltshire descended down the stairs and at glance, he immediately saw that the Scotsman was standing in the large hall, seemingly at a loss, not knowing what he should do --- he appeared to strike a discordant chord with the elegant interiors he was surrounded by and on his part, he had apparently perceived that he was somehow unworthy of being there.
“Sir, now you can tell me who Winifred is and the reason why you have come to my home to look for this woman!” Wiltshire seated himself upon a high-backed chair and his menservants quickly arrayed themselves to stand behind him in a row while wearing watchful expressions on their faces.
“My Lord, my whole family moved away from the highlands ten years ago and resettled on your [10] landholdings. In addition, we have also leased a small plot of farmland from you for cultivation. Winifred is my younger sister, today is her wedding day, the reason I have come is because one of your servants has abducted her before the wedding and brought her here!”
Wiltshire was momentarily stumped but very quickly, he could read a clue in the Scotsman's eyes.
“Brad, please explain this matter.” He turned his head back, casting a glance at the eldest of the servants.
“Your Lordship!” Brad walked in front of Wiltshire and bowed respectfully. He had been a servant in this manor from the time of Wiltshire's childhood and thus, he now possessed faultless etiquette and manners.
“According to the prerogatives conferred by His Majesty the King of England, the Wiltshire clan not only owns all of the land and cattle within the territories of Stonehaven but furthermore, it also has the right of jus primae noctis [11] of all the people on its lands. Because you have been living in London ever since you became an adult, this right has not been exercised ever since you succeeded to the title. Now that you have returned to your seat in Stonehaven, as a woman who is getting married within this period of time, Winifred Robinson's first night rightfully belongs to you, my Lord.”
Wiltshire face blanked for a spell. Although he knew that many years ago, to reward the Wiltshire family for assisting him in wresting control of power, the King had given to the Wiltshire family many privileges that had not been accorded to other aristocratic families but the right of having jus primae noctis over all the people that lived on his land was one right that he had not even known about himself.
“Utter rubbish! Winifred is a good, unsullied girl, all of you have no right to treat her this way!” The Scotsman looked to be extremely agitated but he still moderated his attitude towards Wiltshire. “My Lord, Winifred is just an ordinary country lass, you will not be even the slightest bit interested in her! Her husband is still waiting for her in the church, I beg you to have mercy and let her go back with me!”
The agitated expression on the man's face caused Wiltshire to smile. He stretched out his own pair of long legs, suddenly feeling that perhaps this dreary afternoon would not be as boring as he had imagined.
“Sir, could you tell me your name?”
The Scotsman looked doubtful for a moment, but he soon quickly answered: “Walker, Walker Robinson, Sir.”
“Well then, Walker,” Wiltshire again gave him his trademark languid smile, “could you tell me the reason why you firmly believe that I would give up my rights so easily and let your sister go back with you just like that?”
The Scotsman’s expression changed. When he had first laid eyes on Wiltshire, he had immediately thought that he would be able to convince this lordly Marquess, who looked to be even more beautiful than a woman, to do things his way. But now, he knew better --- he could not count on any of member of the aristocracy to have a charitable or merciful character; even if he should ever chance upon one of them that happened to look like an incarnation of the Lord Jesus Christ.
“Alright then! Even you cannot come up with an argument against this. Needless to say, I certainly cannot think of any reason why I should deny myself the pleasure of enjoying the softness and fragrance of a fresh virgin.” Wiltshire put on an impatient expression that made it seem as though he was unwilling to discuss the matter further but his gaze surreptitiously travelled sideways to fall upon Walker's bare thigh. Unbeknownst to everybody else, a plan for a nefarious game was slowly taking shape in his mind.
Sure enough, after Walker had heard his words, his expression darkened considerably. When he saw that Wiltshire had stood up and looked like he was about to leave, he was jolted and in his agitation, he rushed up to Wiltshire, intending to make him stay. However, when Wiltshire's menservants, who had been standing at his back, immediately rushed forward as one to protect their master, the atmosphere immediately became one of mutual hostility, with both sides seemingly ready to come to blows.
“Brad, all of you, stand aside for now.” Wiltshire waved his hand, indicating that the menservants should withdraw.
His gaze fell upon Walker's hand where it was clutching at Wiltshire's clothes --- it was so sharply different to the hands of all the nobles he had seen before, the rough suntanned palm was so large and Wiltshire was suddenly struck by the impulse to caress and stroke those hands.
In his excitement, his jade-green eyes darkened to a deep green. Wiltshire quickly grabbed that large pair of hands and found that indeed, they were just as warm as he had imagined. Lowering his voice to a pitch that could that could only be heard by Walker and himself, he said: “Follow me upstairs, we can have a good talk there.”
Ignoring the look of surprise on the Scotsman's face, Wiltshire turned and walked towards the stairs. After a moment of hesitation, Walker also followed behind him. As for Brad and the rest, they had wanted to rush forward to stop Walker but Wiltshire waved them back.
“All of you can stand on guard downstairs, you are not to come up unless I call for you.” The jade eyes swept over the menservants coldly; Wiltshire understood that he could only dominate the servants if he put on an appropriately imposing demeanour.
“That girl… where is that Winifred?” The question suddenly occurred to him, and he turned his head to address the question to Brad.
“My Lord, I have put her into the guest bedroom at the very end of the corridor. Because she was making so much noise as she cried and wailed, I fed her some morphine...” Brad swallowed the rest of his words when he saw that Wiltshire was looking at him with cold and flinty eyes.
Deciding that he would leave the matter of the servant having committed a transgression by bringing a strange woman into the manor without obtaining prior approval to pursue later, Wiltshire did not say anything else and without further ado, he led Walker up the stairs.
As soon as he opened the door to the guest bedroom, Wiltshire's eyes immediately fell up the Scottish girl who was curled up on the bed, just like a small animal. Her hair colour was a deep flaxen shade that was similar to her brother's, but her skin was much paler and the healthy colour of her cheeks were reminiscent of blooming roses. But apart from these characteristics, Winifred's looks were average; from her appearance, she looked no different from an ordinary country girl.
Even the women who had been rejected by Wiltshire and denied entry to his bedchamber were all required to look much more delicate, beautiful and adorable than her before they ever gotten that far. But now, Wiltshire had another use for this woman, who he would normally have absolutely no interest in.
“This is your sister, there is no mistake about it?” Wiltshire cast a glance at Walker, in fact he had not needed to ask the question, from the concerned expression that Walker wore on his face, he already knew the answer.
“Yes, my Lord. Winifred, she… she is…” When he saw how helpless and fragile his younger sister looked, Walker's calm facade began to crumble. After all, the man before his eyes had the status of a Lord, and as for himself, his entire family depended on working the lands owned by this man for their livelihoods.
Wiltshire gave a wave of his hand, indicating that he should not speak further.
End of Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 1
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[1]: 史东赫文 (shǐ dōng hè wén): I think this is referring to Stonehaven, a town on the north-eastern coast of Scotland. Basically because the Stonehaven Cup (a golfing tournament) is called 史東赫文盃 in Chinese (the differences in the characters is due to one of them being traditional Chinese and the other simplified Chinese).
[2]: Note that the names are just my best guesses. They are pretty much English names transliterated into Chinese and hard to guess (for me anyway).
[3]: The Marquess is usually referred to as Wiltshire in this book, instead of by his given name or surname or his full title. This is actually quite common for peers. In books/documentaries about Waterloo, you will commonly see/hear the Duke of Wellington referred to as just “Wellington”. Similarly, the lawsuit that Oscar Wilde brought against John Douglas, the Marquess of Queensberry is known as Wilde vs. Queensberry.
[4]: Tiziano Vecellio, known in English as Titian, was an Italian painter, the most important member of the 16th-century Venetian school.
[5]: The servants uses “您 (nín)” instead of “你 (nǐ)” to address Wiltshire. They both mean “you”, but 您 is the formal and courteous mode of address. It makes no difference when you think of them speaking English, since there is no “polite” form of you in the English but just imagine a more respectful tone.
[6]: Could be referring to King George IV of England when he was the Prince Regent, ruling in the stead of his father George III when he was deemed to be unfit to rule. He was obese and very interested in being seen as an elegant dandy although he is thought to be heterosexual whereas the Prince Regent in this story is suggested to be at least bisexual. If this is the era the author meant to evoke, it would place the story around 1811-1820.
[7]: The average height of a man in Regency England was about 5 feet 6 inches, so Hugh would have been considered quite tall for his time, or at least among men of his class. A study on heights in early 19th century England showed that the difference between average height of English upper class youth and English lower class youth reached 8.7 inches.
[8]: Plaid here refers to “a rectangular length of tartan worn over the left shoulder as part of the Scottish national costume” (Merriam Webster) instead of a fabric pattern, although the pattern of the fabric is plaid as well. Traditionally, it is only worn at white-tie events.
[9]: In British society, the Lordship of a Manor is a lordship originating in the feudal system of manorialism. Manorialism was characterised by the vesting of legal and economic power in a Lord of the Manor, supported economically from his own direct landholding in a manor, and from the obligatory contributions of a legally subject part of the peasant population under the jurisdiction of himself and his manorial court. A manorial lordship is not an aristocratic title, although many members of the aristocracy were indeed also Lords of the Manor.
[10]: He uses “您 (nín)” instead of “你 (nǐ)” to address Wiltshire.
[11]: 初夜权 (chū yè quán): literally first night rights. This is the concept known as jus primae noctis in the English-speaking world (the term itself is Latin), which is a right consummating a marriage granted to someone other than the bridegroom by the law or custom of some cultures. Similar to droit du seigneur which was an alleged legal right allowing the lord of a medieval estate to take the virginity of his serfs' maiden daughters but jus primae noctis specifically refers to consummation on the wedding night. There is little evidence, however, that the alleged rights ever actually existed, much less that they were ever exercised.
Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 1
For someone who has long grown accustomed to life in the glittering royal court of London, the scenery of Stonehaven [1] in the autumn could only be described using the words lacklustre and tiresome --- Brett Thomas [2], the Marquess of Wiltshire [3], had been sitting still by a large window in the conservatory on the second floor for more than two hours. The servants were all quite puzzled, just what was it about that lawn --- which had quite a lot of patches of dried and withered grass --- that could captivate the attention of the Marquess for such a long time?
Nevertheless, everybody still had to admit that even when he was the very picture of indolence and boredom, there was still a mysterious charm about him that was reminiscent of the luminaries that had been painted by Titian [4], so that people did not dare to approach him casually.
The Marquess of Wiltshire was currently the most fashionable and desirable figure in high society. If his porcelain skin that was as white as eggshells were any finer or more translucent, the capillaries of his face would almost be visible. His jade-green eyes were clear and crystalline, just like a peppermint sweet of the finest quality. As for his shimmering pale golden hair, its existence was yet another reason for people to envy him. Under the rays of the afternoon sunshine, the peacock-green jacket he was wearing --- cut to epitomize the refined tastes of its owner --- gleamed and gave off flashes of a dark green light that were very complimentary to his eyes.
But this tranquil picture of an autumn afternoon spent in quiet contemplation was quickly disrupted by a manservant who rushed up the stairs in a blind panic. “My Lord, there is a big Scotsman at the door who is raising a ruckus, demanding to see you [5]. Could Your Lordship please go and have a look quickly.”
The name of the manservant who had rushed in was Hugh. Wiltshire had already been reprimanded him several times for his impulsive behaviour and way of doing things but apparently, he had not reformed his ways as a result?
When he saw that panic was written all over the servant's face, the expression on the face of the Marquess also changed in turn. Originally aloof and impassive, it now took on a hint of severity.
“Hugh, I think I have already told you this. Even if the door is open, you should still knock on it before entering into the room.” It wasn’t just his looks that perfectly embodied the most desirable qualities in aristocratic circles at that time, so did his voice --- the lazy drawl carried a slight hint of sarcasm, even the corpulent Prince Regent [6] often daydreamed about being able to have such elegant tones.
“My apologies, my Lord! But that man… that man…”
In actual fact, Hugh was a robust youth who was nearly five feet eight inches in height [7], that someone could cause him to become utterly flustered to the extent of being nearly helpless... Wiltshire could not help but to become curious; could that man be just like the Scottish giants of legend?
“Where is he?” Wiltshire finally rose from the brocade chair he had been seated on for the whole afternoon and stood up. He had been obliged to incline his head down as he asked Hugh the question --- his six-foot-tall body was the only thing about him that rather spoiled the image of an idle aristocrat.
Leaving the matter of his height aside, Wiltshire's figure was actually quite slender --- the Prince Regent had already hinted several times at his desire to embrace Wiltshire's slender waist, although he always tried to pass off these intimations off as jokes afterwards because Wiltshire came from an influential family.
Playing his games within the splendour of the London court, Wiltshire was constantly surrounded by many beautiful upper-class ladies and naturally, he would not countenance the idea of selecting the Prince Regent, who tipped the scales at close to three hundred pounds, as his bed partner. But of late, he had found that this sort of sticky situation was becoming a frequent occurrence and the Marquess could only say that he had to leave for his remote estate in the northern territories to see that it is in order, using this excuse to avoid the Prince Regent's attempts at getting a piece of the action --- after all, the other party was still none other than the most important person in the whole of Britain.
But with the dullness of life in Stonehaven, Wiltshire soon could not find anything else to do except to sit around in a torpor. Although he had had to expend some mental energy to come up with such an ingenious plan to throw off the persistent Prince Regent, but Wiltshire was already seriously considering returning to London and going back to immersing himself in a life that was full of dancing in ballrooms and socialising in gentlemen's clubs.
“WHERE IS HE?” As if he had not heard the question the first time that it had been asked, Hugh only raised his head to stare dumbly up at the Marquess' face; finally Wiltshire had had enough and could not help but to roar at him.
“… That way, my Lord… my apologies… I’ll bring you over there…” As if he had been startled awake from a dream, Hugh shivered uncontrollably and babbled out an incoherent reply.
He followed at the back of the youth as they proceeded to a window sill on the same floor but at another wing of the manor. Looking out, Wiltshire immediately saw the Scotsman in question; he was currently fighting against several of Wiltshire’s male servants.
The Scotsman was quite tall, he was probably almost as tall as Wiltshire himself, or perhaps he could even be a bit taller than him. The deep flaxen colour of his hair and eyes, along with the tartan kilt he wore, were clear indications of his lineage. Wiltshire narrowed his eyes as he took the measure of the man who was still struggling against four of Wiltshire's brawny servants as the sunlight shone down upon them.
Drops of perspiration glimmered on the man's suntanned skin, making his common facial features look vivid and even striking as a result.
The man's Scottish kilt left an expanse of leg uncovered, and because he was exerting his strength as he strained against his foes, the muscle of his thighs stood out in sharp relief, clear evidence of his astounding strength.
However, the plaid [8] that was draped around the man's upper body, which featured the same tartan pattern as the kilt he wore, was worn by Scotsmen as part of their traditional dress at only the most important of ceremonies.
So what was it that had caused this man to abandon a ceremony midway so as to intrude upon Wiltshire's estate and raise an uproar? Wiltshire knitted his brows into a frown. Although he did not consider himself to be a particularly wise Lord of the Manor [9] but by his own reckoning, he had not ever brutalized any of the tenant farmers that worked his lands.
“Winifred! Winifred!” The man was unable to get past the blockade set against him at the moment and instead he began to shout loudly.
That was clearly a woman's name but Wiltshire could not remember having any female servants with that name in his employ. He furrowed his brows further and asked Hugh, who was at his side: “Who is this Winifred? Why is he looking for that person here?”
“My Lord, I swear that I have never heard of someone with that name before.” The youth's face took on an expression of embarrassment, evidently, he was feeling ashamed that he was unable to answer his Master's question.
Feeling some regret that he had actually bothered to ask any further questions of a blockhead like Hugh, Wiltshire decided to put a stop to the farce that was taking place at the doorsteps of his manor personally.
“John, Wilson, Brad, Pat! That's enough, stop fighting, let that man approach.”
The four strong and vigorous menservants almost immediately seemed to stop making any further action. Clearly, their efforts at restraining the Scotsman had left them totally exhausted.
The Scotsman raised his head, besides the obvious unfriendliness on his face, there was also a kind of pure curiosity in his expression and at the moment he laid eyes on Wiltshire's face, his expression changed to one of shock. As for Wiltshire, there was something in the Scotsman’s gaze that immediately reminded him of an innocent child and much to his own surprise, it actually caused his heart to give a strong, hard beat in response.
“Sir, please come to the drawing room, and then you will explain properly why you feel the need to cry and shout on my doorstep.” Wiltshire gained mastery over his own emotions, calming them rapidly and then gave his orders using an affronted tone of voice that was befitting a lord whose territory had been violated.
The Scotsman was clearly entranced by Wiltshire's exquisitely beautiful appearance; as if in a dream he followed behind the footsteps of the servant, even stopping quite a few times to raise his head, looking around to confirm that Wiltshire had not been a mere figment of his imagination.
After a few minutes, Wiltshire descended down the stairs and at glance, he immediately saw that the Scotsman was standing in the large hall, seemingly at a loss, not knowing what he should do --- he appeared to strike a discordant chord with the elegant interiors he was surrounded by and on his part, he had apparently perceived that he was somehow unworthy of being there.
“Sir, now you can tell me who Winifred is and the reason why you have come to my home to look for this woman!” Wiltshire seated himself upon a high-backed chair and his menservants quickly arrayed themselves to stand behind him in a row while wearing watchful expressions on their faces.
“My Lord, my whole family moved away from the highlands ten years ago and resettled on your [10] landholdings. In addition, we have also leased a small plot of farmland from you for cultivation. Winifred is my younger sister, today is her wedding day, the reason I have come is because one of your servants has abducted her before the wedding and brought her here!”
Wiltshire was momentarily stumped but very quickly, he could read a clue in the Scotsman's eyes.
“Brad, please explain this matter.” He turned his head back, casting a glance at the eldest of the servants.
“Your Lordship!” Brad walked in front of Wiltshire and bowed respectfully. He had been a servant in this manor from the time of Wiltshire's childhood and thus, he now possessed faultless etiquette and manners.
“According to the prerogatives conferred by His Majesty the King of England, the Wiltshire clan not only owns all of the land and cattle within the territories of Stonehaven but furthermore, it also has the right of jus primae noctis [11] of all the people on its lands. Because you have been living in London ever since you became an adult, this right has not been exercised ever since you succeeded to the title. Now that you have returned to your seat in Stonehaven, as a woman who is getting married within this period of time, Winifred Robinson's first night rightfully belongs to you, my Lord.”
Wiltshire face blanked for a spell. Although he knew that many years ago, to reward the Wiltshire family for assisting him in wresting control of power, the King had given to the Wiltshire family many privileges that had not been accorded to other aristocratic families but the right of having jus primae noctis over all the people that lived on his land was one right that he had not even known about himself.
“Utter rubbish! Winifred is a good, unsullied girl, all of you have no right to treat her this way!” The Scotsman looked to be extremely agitated but he still moderated his attitude towards Wiltshire. “My Lord, Winifred is just an ordinary country lass, you will not be even the slightest bit interested in her! Her husband is still waiting for her in the church, I beg you to have mercy and let her go back with me!”
The agitated expression on the man's face caused Wiltshire to smile. He stretched out his own pair of long legs, suddenly feeling that perhaps this dreary afternoon would not be as boring as he had imagined.
“Sir, could you tell me your name?”
The Scotsman looked doubtful for a moment, but he soon quickly answered: “Walker, Walker Robinson, Sir.”
“Well then, Walker,” Wiltshire again gave him his trademark languid smile, “could you tell me the reason why you firmly believe that I would give up my rights so easily and let your sister go back with you just like that?”
The Scotsman’s expression changed. When he had first laid eyes on Wiltshire, he had immediately thought that he would be able to convince this lordly Marquess, who looked to be even more beautiful than a woman, to do things his way. But now, he knew better --- he could not count on any of member of the aristocracy to have a charitable or merciful character; even if he should ever chance upon one of them that happened to look like an incarnation of the Lord Jesus Christ.
“Alright then! Even you cannot come up with an argument against this. Needless to say, I certainly cannot think of any reason why I should deny myself the pleasure of enjoying the softness and fragrance of a fresh virgin.” Wiltshire put on an impatient expression that made it seem as though he was unwilling to discuss the matter further but his gaze surreptitiously travelled sideways to fall upon Walker's bare thigh. Unbeknownst to everybody else, a plan for a nefarious game was slowly taking shape in his mind.
Sure enough, after Walker had heard his words, his expression darkened considerably. When he saw that Wiltshire had stood up and looked like he was about to leave, he was jolted and in his agitation, he rushed up to Wiltshire, intending to make him stay. However, when Wiltshire's menservants, who had been standing at his back, immediately rushed forward as one to protect their master, the atmosphere immediately became one of mutual hostility, with both sides seemingly ready to come to blows.
“Brad, all of you, stand aside for now.” Wiltshire waved his hand, indicating that the menservants should withdraw.
His gaze fell upon Walker's hand where it was clutching at Wiltshire's clothes --- it was so sharply different to the hands of all the nobles he had seen before, the rough suntanned palm was so large and Wiltshire was suddenly struck by the impulse to caress and stroke those hands.
In his excitement, his jade-green eyes darkened to a deep green. Wiltshire quickly grabbed that large pair of hands and found that indeed, they were just as warm as he had imagined. Lowering his voice to a pitch that could that could only be heard by Walker and himself, he said: “Follow me upstairs, we can have a good talk there.”
Ignoring the look of surprise on the Scotsman's face, Wiltshire turned and walked towards the stairs. After a moment of hesitation, Walker also followed behind him. As for Brad and the rest, they had wanted to rush forward to stop Walker but Wiltshire waved them back.
“All of you can stand on guard downstairs, you are not to come up unless I call for you.” The jade eyes swept over the menservants coldly; Wiltshire understood that he could only dominate the servants if he put on an appropriately imposing demeanour.
“That girl… where is that Winifred?” The question suddenly occurred to him, and he turned his head to address the question to Brad.
“My Lord, I have put her into the guest bedroom at the very end of the corridor. Because she was making so much noise as she cried and wailed, I fed her some morphine...” Brad swallowed the rest of his words when he saw that Wiltshire was looking at him with cold and flinty eyes.
Deciding that he would leave the matter of the servant having committed a transgression by bringing a strange woman into the manor without obtaining prior approval to pursue later, Wiltshire did not say anything else and without further ado, he led Walker up the stairs.
As soon as he opened the door to the guest bedroom, Wiltshire's eyes immediately fell up the Scottish girl who was curled up on the bed, just like a small animal. Her hair colour was a deep flaxen shade that was similar to her brother's, but her skin was much paler and the healthy colour of her cheeks were reminiscent of blooming roses. But apart from these characteristics, Winifred's looks were average; from her appearance, she looked no different from an ordinary country girl.
Even the women who had been rejected by Wiltshire and denied entry to his bedchamber were all required to look much more delicate, beautiful and adorable than her before they ever gotten that far. But now, Wiltshire had another use for this woman, who he would normally have absolutely no interest in.
“This is your sister, there is no mistake about it?” Wiltshire cast a glance at Walker, in fact he had not needed to ask the question, from the concerned expression that Walker wore on his face, he already knew the answer.
“Yes, my Lord. Winifred, she… she is…” When he saw how helpless and fragile his younger sister looked, Walker's calm facade began to crumble. After all, the man before his eyes had the status of a Lord, and as for himself, his entire family depended on working the lands owned by this man for their livelihoods.
Wiltshire gave a wave of his hand, indicating that he should not speak further.
End of Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 1
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[1]: 史东赫文 (shǐ dōng hè wén): I think this is referring to Stonehaven, a town on the north-eastern coast of Scotland. Basically because the Stonehaven Cup (a golfing tournament) is called 史東赫文盃 in Chinese (the differences in the characters is due to one of them being traditional Chinese and the other simplified Chinese).
[2]: Note that the names are just my best guesses. They are pretty much English names transliterated into Chinese and hard to guess (for me anyway).
[3]: The Marquess is usually referred to as Wiltshire in this book, instead of by his given name or surname or his full title. This is actually quite common for peers. In books/documentaries about Waterloo, you will commonly see/hear the Duke of Wellington referred to as just “Wellington”. Similarly, the lawsuit that Oscar Wilde brought against John Douglas, the Marquess of Queensberry is known as Wilde vs. Queensberry.
[4]: Tiziano Vecellio, known in English as Titian, was an Italian painter, the most important member of the 16th-century Venetian school.
[5]: The servants uses “您 (nín)” instead of “你 (nǐ)” to address Wiltshire. They both mean “you”, but 您 is the formal and courteous mode of address. It makes no difference when you think of them speaking English, since there is no “polite” form of you in the English but just imagine a more respectful tone.
[6]: Could be referring to King George IV of England when he was the Prince Regent, ruling in the stead of his father George III when he was deemed to be unfit to rule. He was obese and very interested in being seen as an elegant dandy although he is thought to be heterosexual whereas the Prince Regent in this story is suggested to be at least bisexual. If this is the era the author meant to evoke, it would place the story around 1811-1820.
[7]: The average height of a man in Regency England was about 5 feet 6 inches, so Hugh would have been considered quite tall for his time, or at least among men of his class. A study on heights in early 19th century England showed that the difference between average height of English upper class youth and English lower class youth reached 8.7 inches.
[8]: Plaid here refers to “a rectangular length of tartan worn over the left shoulder as part of the Scottish national costume” (Merriam Webster) instead of a fabric pattern, although the pattern of the fabric is plaid as well. Traditionally, it is only worn at white-tie events.
[9]: In British society, the Lordship of a Manor is a lordship originating in the feudal system of manorialism. Manorialism was characterised by the vesting of legal and economic power in a Lord of the Manor, supported economically from his own direct landholding in a manor, and from the obligatory contributions of a legally subject part of the peasant population under the jurisdiction of himself and his manorial court. A manorial lordship is not an aristocratic title, although many members of the aristocracy were indeed also Lords of the Manor.
[10]: He uses “您 (nín)” instead of “你 (nǐ)” to address Wiltshire.
[11]: 初夜权 (chū yè quán): literally first night rights. This is the concept known as jus primae noctis in the English-speaking world (the term itself is Latin), which is a right consummating a marriage granted to someone other than the bridegroom by the law or custom of some cultures. Similar to droit du seigneur which was an alleged legal right allowing the lord of a medieval estate to take the virginity of his serfs' maiden daughters but jus primae noctis specifically refers to consummation on the wedding night. There is little evidence, however, that the alleged rights ever actually existed, much less that they were ever exercised.
