Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 3, Part 1
But what Walker found even more painful was that his self-esteem now hung in shreds --- Wiltshire! Carving that name deeply into his heart, the Scotsman chose to swallow his anger for the moment.
Watching that strong back as it slowly disappeared from his line of vision, Wiltshire smiled and fished out a pocket watch --- it was already time for dinner but on this afternoon, he had finally found a way to amuse himself, something that could save him from dying of boredom in Stonehaven.
Walker Robinson, we shall meet again! [1]
Although that's what he said, seven days would pass before Wiltshire’s next meeting with Walker transpired --- Earl Thuram of Darwen came up from London to pay him a surprise visit, disrupting his original plan.
The Earl was Wiltshire's good friend, but he had another secret identity, one that he would be widely condemned by everyone for. As the Prince Regent's only long-term male companion, he possessed power and influence that could not be rivalled by any of the other peers in the kingdom. Along with everybody else, Wiltshire could not figure out why his good friend, who was born a member of the aristocracy and held titles of nobility in his own right in addition to having extraordinarily handsome looks, would be willing to take up with the gormless, obese and wanton Prince Regent. But every time he would put this question to Darwen, he would just smile but make no reply. After the same scene played out several times, Wiltshire stopped pursuing that line of questioning.
Unfortunately, Earl Thuram, who had been secretly ordered to go to Stonehaven by the Prince Regent, soon came down with malaria, which had been circulating in the vicinity. After taking to his bed for a whole week, his health was restored but as soon as that happened, he requested that Wiltshire accompany him back to London.
Although Wiltshire's heart had already grown tired of the dreariness of life in Stonehaven, the prospect of having to meet with the Prince Regent again caused him to resist Thuram's proposal instinctively. After he had persisted in opposing the idea, he finally got Thuram to at least agree to return to London before him, but the Marquess was obliged to make his own departure from Stonehaven within three days.
As the time for departure drew near, Wiltshire was still idling his time away. In his infinite ennui, his thoughts began to turn to the Scotsman who he had pressed against the wall of his guestroom and violated. With his interest thus piqued, he summoned Brad and asked for directions to the Robinson family home before setting off in that direction by himself, while harbouring a feeling of eagerness at the opportunity to try something new; a feeling that surprised even himself.
By the time he had hurried over to the outlying reaches of the territory of Stonehaven where the Robinson homestead was situated, it was already close to noon. Riding on a horse, Wiltshire immediately spotted Walker, who was toiling in the fields. He was not alone; by his side were two young boys and an elderly man who had a face that was heavily lined with wrinkles.
Standing in the farmland, bathed in the autumn sun, Walker raised the hoe high before sinking it into the ground at his feet and pulling hard. Sweat fell continuously from his neck and forehead, falling onto the dark brown soil. Every time he raised his arm, the well-developed muscles of his arm and chest would bunch up so much that they seemed to be totally revealed through his thin undershirt [2] --- it was obviously a rather mundane scene of farm labour, but somehow, when it was viewed through Wiltshire's eyes, he could not help but to feel his throat beginning to run dry.
Damn, his trousers seemed to be of too tight a fit today --- feeling his nether regions begin to swell up, and the crotch of his trousers grow uncomfortably tight, he began to regret choosing to wear this new pair of trousers today. He urged his horse forward, stopping in front of Walker, who was still working industriously.
“Good older brother of Winifred, how have you been lately?” He made a great effort to make his voice sound as pleasant as the weather on this fine day but when Walker subsequently jerked his head up, the expression he was wearing was more appropriate for someone who had just heard Satan beckoning.
Wiltshire smiled as he drank in the sight of Walker's entire body with his eyes --- the determined chin, the broad and solid chest, the firm and tight waist, the strong upper thighs… last of all, his suggestive gaze travelled to that area between his legs, flickering over there for a few seconds before finally coming to a stop in that very impolite position.
Golden hair that shimmered under the sunshine with enough radiance to dazzle the eyes, a teasing gaze that glinted with indecent enticements; when Walker was met with this sight, he gasped with shock and his body also trembled --- albeit almost imperceptibly --- but he rapidly managed to restore his equilibrium.
Setting down the hoe he held in his hand, he used the towel that was draped around his neck to wipe off the sweat that dripped down continuously before putting on a mocking attitude as he gave Wiltshire a slight bow and said: “My honourable Lord Marquess, what wind blows you here?”
Wiltshire gave a wide grin and laughed, his snow-white teeth gleaming in the sun as he said: “I did say that we would meet again, did I not? Also, frankly speaking, at every single moment for the past few days, I have been thinking of your beautiful kilt and underneath your kilt, the...”
“Shut up!” It was evident that Walker could not believe that he could actually talk about this kind of topic in broad daylight.
“My Lord, perhaps you have forgotten this, but I think I had better give you a reminder. I only have one younger sister and she has already gotten married. If you are still thinking of using such a ridiculous excuse as jus primae noctis…”
When he mentioned the phrase "jus primae noctis", he abruptly paused and did not continue speaking. An unmistakable blush also flitted across his suntanned face and Wiltshire knew that he must be thinking of his own "first night" --- the memory of being buried deeply into Walker's smoulderingly-hot, tight and resisting body flashed across his own mind, causing area under his abdomen to feel as though it was being stretched even more taut, and he could not help but to give a swallow.
Taking great care not to have anything brush against the swollen desire that hung between his legs, Wiltshire dismounted from the horse. Thus obscured by the horse, he brazenly brought his lips beside Walker's ears.
“If you don't wish for me to make loud proclamations right here about how tight, how hot and how narrow your asshole is, then immediately...” He pointed to the forest that bordered the field, “We need to find a place where we can have a good chat.”
He deliberately moved impossibly close to Walker; so that with every single word he spoke and every time that he breathed, he sent a hot puff of air wafting against Walker's ear. He saw with satisfaction that Walker's angry eyes now gleamed with a murderous look. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked ahead, into the small forest.
He heard Walker's footsteps following behind him but Wiltshire did not turn back for a look and continued to move forward, only stopping when they were deep in the forest.
“What exactly do you want?” Almost immediately, an angry voice rang out, evidently, Walker's patience had been stretched nearly to the breaking point.
Aristocratic lords invariably liked their playthings to be fresh, wasn't it so? And he had already submitted to humiliation and allowed Wiltshire to toy with him, how could that not have been enough! That day, if it weren't for the fact that his family was waiting for him to return with Winifred to commence the wedding, Walker would be willing to swear that he would have ripped the Marquess to shreds the moment he opened his poisonous mouth and made that shameless demand.
He swept his contemptuous glance over Wiltshire, who was opposite him, leaning against a tree. That aristocrat! Although he could not be considered short, but with the type of slender build he possessed, what physical strength could he possibly have!
Wiltshire answered his question with silence. With big strides, he walked over to Walker and with no hesitation, he divested himself of his trousers and casually tossed them aside.
His pent-up desire that he had had to endure for such a long time could finally be fully exposed and the sex organ on his lower body stood up proudly, pointing straight at Walker. Engorged with blood, the organ was continuing to grow and the transparent fluid that hung from its front end was undeniable evidence of his lust.
Walker was so shocked by the scene before his eyes that he was totally stunned; as if he were under some enchantment, he stood stiffly, rooted to the same spot. He could not tear his eyes away from the hard and erect thing that Wiltshire was displaying before his eyes and his facial muscles were twitching uncontrollably.
“What do I want! Isn’t that obvious enough!” Wiltshire said placidly; in the next second he had pulled Walker, who was caught off-guard and thus unable to put up any resistance, into his arms. “I want to strip off all of your clothes, I want to kiss every part of your body fiercely, I want to use my hand to knead your nipples until they are swollen and sore! I want to fondle you until you are utterly spent and can orgasm no more!! I want to humiliate you until you cry out and beg me to enter your body!!!”
As he clearly enunciated words that would make even the most seasoned prostitute in the metropolis of London blush by the side of Walker's ear, he clutched Walker's body tightly in his arms, inserted his right leg into the space between Walker's legs and pressed it against his crotch while his hand mercilessly ripped apart his undershirt and pinched the erect nipple on his chest, pressing his nail hard against it…
“Ah…” Walker gave blood-curdling shrieks while desperately struggling like a wild beast that had been pierced by an arrow but Wiltshire was enormously strong, almost beyond compare, and ruthlessly pressed him between his body and the tree. The thigh that he had wedged between Walker's legs was moving back and forth forcefully, attempting to arouse Walker's lust.
“Get lost! Get lost!” Walker's shouts came out as a hiss because his breath caught in his throat. He raised both of his hands in front of his chest, forcefully trying to push Wiltshire away but Wiltshire's hands were far more powerful than he had imagined; they gripped him as firmly as pincers made of iron would.
When he saw the frantic way Walker was struggling, a desire for conquest began to consume Wiltshire just like a wildfire consumes everything in its path, driving him to bear down upon Walker's lips forcefully --- a heady, intensely masculine flavour instantly engulfed him; like an aphrodisiac, it drove him even wilder.
Prying the moist and lush lips apart, Wiltshire's tongue quickly extended inside and set about exploring Walker's mouth riotously.
Having been tightly restrained against Wiltshire, the tremendous heat and sexual desire that Wiltshire's body exuded in great waves caused Walker to become dizzy and light-headed. Just as he was about to be submerged in a sea of lust, he managed to summon one last bit of strength and bit down hard on Wiltshire's tongue which was still probing the depths of his oral cavity.
Wiltshire's lust had been bubbling over like a pot of boiling water, but the intense pain had the effect of cooling it off significantly. With a loud scream, he let go of Walker, and clapped his hand over his mouth, which was gushing with blood from his bleeding tongue.
His wild gaze shot to Walker, who had collapsed to kneel on the ground, his legs too wobbly to support him due to the abruptness with which he had been jolted from the throes of passion. The intrinsic savagery that was part of Wiltshire's character was awakened in his chest. Almost in the very next second, he rushed over and fiercely wrestled that strong body to the ground.
Walker was startled, he had obviously not expected Wiltshire to be able to recover or to launch another attack on himself so quickly. He valiantly attempted to struggle although he had been caught unprepared, trying to engineer a second escape from the hands of the Marquess.
Having had his initial attempt thwarted, Wiltshire seemed to grow even more frenzied. With all the strength in his body, he pressed down on Walker's back and forcefully twisted his arms to his back. Even more alarmingly, he jammed his right thigh between Walker's legs; hooking them up, he wrenched them apart and placed them by his sides.
“The lords of the nobility are nothing but a pack of male dogs in heat! Male dog! Get lost! Don't touch me with your dirty hands!” Walker had been so firmly pinned down by Wiltshire that his head was the only part that he could still move freely. He cursed viciously, and spat out a mouthful of saliva that carried traces of blood onto the ground in front of him, while bucking his body back and forth in an attempt to break away from the Marquess’s death grip.
The friction created by Walker's thrashing caused Wiltshire to feel as though his burning desire had been brought to an apex. At this point, he lost any semblance of refinement. His golden hair was now wet and scattered, hanging messily on his forehead and perspiration kept dripping down. Looking at him now, people would probably not recognize him as the Marquess who was famed for his grace and languid elegance throughout the highest echelons of London society.
He had to admit that the strength in Walker’s arm was really quite remarkable, but Wiltshire himself had undergone years of training in the skill of wrestling at clubs in London, and he was confident enough that he could subdue this country bumpkin who had completely no knowledge of any technique. Freeing up a hand, he undid Walker's belt. Using the resources at hand, he improvised and used the belt to secure Walker's hands behind his back.
Although he now occupied the more advantageous position, but by time that Wiltshire managed to accomplish all of this, he was also wearing a look of fatigue --- he was panting hard, but it wasn't only because he was short of breath, it could be further attributed to the explosive desire that was consuming him, the intensity of which surprised even himself.
Walker felt Wiltshire draw even closer to himself; hot droplets of perspiration dribbled over his own neck and head, and his nose filled with the distinctive aroma of the French fragrance that always scented Wiltshire's body. Walker was extremely discomfited but still, he could not break free. He was constantly moving the hands that were tied behind his back in a bid to free them and prevent Wiltshire from getting close.
“Tsk tsk tsk, you are not wearing that beautiful kilt of yours today? This is really inconvenient!” Wiltshire's slender and beautiful hand wrapped around the bulge between Walker's legs, and began to move about with the most dubious of intentions. Having been divested of its belt, the trousers were shoved to below Walker's buttocks, exposing the male organ that was obscured by his dense pubic hair.
Their previous sexual encounter had been too rushed; there had simply not been enough time for Wiltshire to look closely at Walker's body. Therefore, when the bare body was finally exposed under the sunlight, with nothing to hinder the view, he could not help himself and extended a hand to hold that heavy flesh, narrowing his eyes as he attentively scrutinized and admired the sight. The colour of the hair on Walker's lower regions seemed to be of a darker shade than the hair on his head, it was almost on the verge of being a rich brown; in contrast, the colour of his skin there was actually significantly paler than his upper body, because it had not absorbed the rays of the sun.
“Madman! Pervert! Hurry up and get lost!” When he saw that this Marquess, who possessed such elegant facial features, was staring non-stop at his sex organ as he continued to knead it, Walker felt as though he was on the verge of throwing up. He could constantly feel Wiltshire's unremitting heat against his bare buttocks; that unspeakable sensation caused his whole body to tremble with disgust.
“Really? So you like to do things quickly! I'll grant you your wish!” A thread of callousness flashed in the depths of Wiltshire's eyes and in the next moment, he ruthlessly thrust his hard-as-iron sex organ into Walker's body. Although he had already prepared himself mentally for this, that type of sharp pain still instantly shot through Walker, paralyzing his entire central nervous system, rendering him completely incapable of movement for the next few minutes.
Dirty! Depraved! So humiliating that one feels that his body is going to break apart! Even though he was born male, he now knew from experience what women who had been forcefully violated felt --- the strong wish that one could immediately drop dead, right at the moment when one was being penetrated against their will!
As Wiltshire was thrusting mercilessly into the very deepest part of his body, in that moment, Walker actually felt a trace of gratification in his heart --- glad that the one who had to endure all of this was not that totally unworldly sister of his, glad that the one who had to endure being plundered to satisfy a cruel appetite was himself and not her.
Thrusting into the body beneath him as violently as a gale-force wind or a sudden deluge, Wiltshire had never ever felt such intense desire before; he felt as though he was about to be reduced to ashes by the heat of that scorching lust.
Only wanting to penetrate into the very depths of this body! Only wanting to pillage all that this man possessed, to make it become his own! The desire was so overpowering that he almost wanted to meld the other man's body with his own; so overpowering that everything appeared to be a blur in front of his eyes. His hand constantly tightened firmly around Walker's chest, holding him so tightly that there was not even a sliver of a gap between the two of them.
At the moment of climax, the intense rush of pleasure caught Wiltshire by surprise, like the tide coming in, wave after wave engulfed his whole body, leaving his limbs relaxed and numb. Again and again, he shot his overflowing desire into Walker's body. By the time he came back to his senses, realized that he had lost control and stiffly withdrew from Walker's body, Walker had already collapsed onto the ground at an awkward angle as if he were a lifeless doll.
Looking at the fresh blood and semen flowing continuously from the inflamed entrance which was still unable to close itself, for the first time in his life, Wiltshire began to have an inkling of what guilt felt like. Leaning over, he helped Walker to sit up and settled him in the crook of his arms before untying the belt that had chafed Walker's hands red and swollen. Wiltshire slowly caressed his body with his fingers and eyes, before finally pressing his own lips upon those luscious lips.
Having just experienced the unprecedented amount of pleasure that this body could bring to himself, how could Wiltshire be willing to let him go so easily? A brand new idea began to gradually take shape in his mind and he promptly decided that he would carry out this game that could make his blood boil with passion right to the very end.
The body under his hands gave a slight quiver; Walker was coming back to his senses after having indulged in a short bout of utter despair.
“You!” If looks could kill, Wiltshire would probably have died a thousand times by now. Walker began to struggle, thinking that he wanted to break free from this embrace. However, the agony that shot through his body from all of his joints made him unable to summon up any strength and in dejection, he again collapsed into the crook of the Marquess’s arms.
“Don’t move!” Using just the one hand, Wiltshire managed to still him. His slender finger slowly probed into that hole which had been stuffed full of his own desire just a few moments before, trying to expel the semen that still remained in Walker's body.
As fluid flowed slowly from the depths of his body, the strange sensation quickly caused Walker's face to blanch. Without conscious thought, his hand clutched at Wiltshire's arm, trying to prevent his finger from going deeper into his own body.
When he felt that the residual semen had just about been totally removed, Wiltshire withdrew his finger. Tearing a strip of fabric off of his silk shirt, he silently helped Walker to wipe away the physical traces of their encounter that were still left on his legs before he got them both dressed as neatly as possible.
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[1]: I’m not sure if this was spoken aloud or not; it is not in quotation marks, but a line further down indicates that it was.
[2]: The word used here is “汗衫 (hàn shān)” which means vest/undershirt. It probably brings to mind the tank-top style undershirts that men wear today, but this type of underwear only came into being during the 20th century. It is more likely that he was wearing what we would now call a shirt. At that time, shirts were considered underwear because it was the layer than was next to their skin, and also, it was not proper to appear in society dressed in just a shirt on the torso; they were expected to wear waistcoats and jackets as well.
Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 3, Part 2
After everything was put in order, Wiltshire propped Walker up, letting him lean against his shoulder. In this manner, the two people walked together, heading for the edge of the woods.
“If you think that I will forgive you just because you’re doing this…” Walker was apparently greatly puzzled and confused by his gentle actions and made this ungracious comment with a gruff voice.
“Hush! Don’t Speak. That is, if you don’t wish for me to use this thing of mine to gag your mouth!” Wiltshire grabbed Walker's hand and pressed it against his own groin.
When he touched that organ - still fiery hot and hard --- Walker immediately wrenched his hand away, as if he had been scalded. Gazing at Wiltshire with the same look in his eyes as he would use to look upon a monster, he said: “Are you a horse or something? Obviously… obviously, you’ve already…”
Obviously, he had already climaxed countless times in his body, but incredibly, this man was still sporting an erection. Even though he was also a man, Walker could not understand how he could have such an insatiable sexual appetite.
“That’s why I told you not to speak! Now, bring me to your home!”
Walker began to shout loudly: “Are you mad! Why do you want to go to my home? My Lord Marquess, you should amass some good karma [1]! My younger brothers are not even fifteen-years-old yet!”
“Who said that I’m going there to have a look at your brothers!” Wiltshire was seriously affronted by him, “Dear Mr. Robinson, if you think that you can reach home safely without the need for any assistance, then you can crawl back by yourself from this point on!”
Knowing that in his current state, he would indeed find it impossible to walk home without assistance, Walker could only choose to suffer in silence.
The two of them slowly made their way out from the woods; it was already noon by that point and the field was now deserted. “They have probably gone back to the house to have their meals [2].” Walker's face was expressionless as he pointed out a small thatched cottage not far from the field, indicating that Wiltshire should help him over. Never before in his life had the Marquess ever attended to someone like this, but because this mess was of his own making, Wiltshire was obliged to do as he was instructed.
Upon entering that simple and crude shack, Wiltshire recognized at a glance that the three people who were crowded around the table having their meal were the old man and the two young boys he had seen previously. As for the wan-faced woman who was lying on the bed, she should be none other than Walker's mother.
When they saw Walker and Wiltshire come into the house, the three people put down the bowls [3] they were holding in their hands. “Walker, you were gone for so long, where did you go?” The elder of the two boys inquired while he curiously took the measure of Wiltshire at the same time --- although his hair was tousled and his clothes were in disarray, one could still clearly see that he was a member of the elite.
“Sorry to impose on you! I am the Marquess of Wiltshire, the owner of these lands.” Wiltshire told the old man, speaking in a refined and courteous manner.
The old man was evidently shocked by Wiltshire's declaration of his identity, and immediately rose up from his chair.
“Good heavens, it’s the Lord Marquess! Please have a seat!” He seemed to be totally bewildered and at a loss as he busied himself carrying a stool over for the Marquess to sit down. His panicked demeanour clearly communicated that he had never before had the opportunity to be in the presence of such a highly important aristocrat [4], especially at such close proximity.
When he noticed how his eldest son, Walker, was leaning against the body of the Marquess, the elderly man got a fright and hastened to reprimand him: “Walker, quickly ask the Lord Marquess to have a seat! Go to the backyard, slaughter that hen and cook it so that we can show the Marquess some hospitality...”
“My Lord Marquess had probably not had his midday meal yet, how about having some food at my humble abode?” He turned to address Wiltshire fawningly, using a tone of voice that was distinctly different from the one he had used to speak to Walker.
“Ah, that’s not necessary! I have already had my meal [5].” Seeing that Walker was making an effort to prop himself up, as if he intended to leave his side, Wiltshire grabbed hold of him: “Actually, we had just encountered bandits while we were in the woods and to save me, Walker took a fall from the horse and was unable to walk for a time. Therefore, I escorted him back.” Not even giving a blink, Wiltshire blithely told this lie and without much thought, he came up with an excuse to explain away Walker's debility.
“Is that so?” It had obviously been a blatant lie, but the old man seemed to believe it unreservedly: “My Lord Marquess is really kind-hearted. The previous matter concerning Winifred was only resolved thanks to your great benevolence, our whole family is deeply grateful to you!”
He already knew that it would have been impossible for Walker to reveal that he had surrendered his own virginity on behalf of his sister but when he imagined Walker attributing Winifred's safe return to his own kindness when asked, Wiltshire could not help but to find the scenario deeply funny.
When he saw that by his side, Walker's face had turned ashen, Wiltshire hurriedly restrained his laughter. Looking to change the subject, he looked at the woman who had been lying unconscious on the bed all this while, and said: “Is this Mrs. Robinson? Is she feeling unwell?”
The old man heaved a sigh and his face took on a look of grief: “Yes. Emily is seriously ill, but we don't have enough money to pay for her treatment. It would seem that any further delays...” His expression looked very pained, and the two boys behind him also bowed their heads.
Wiltshire surveyed the four walls of this bare-bones house. He knew that there were many impoverished people who died of remediable diseases simply because they did not have enough money to pay for medical attention --- from the looks of the woman, it seemed that she did not have the luxury of delaying treatment any longer if she hoped to survive. He sneaked a glance at Walker and saw that the corners of his eyes had turned slightly red; at the sight, his heart couldn't help but be moved.
He cleared his throat, doing his utmost to use a sincere tone of voice as he said [6]: “Mr. Robinson, ever since I had the good fortune of meeting your son previously, I have felt that he is very industrious and honest. In fact, the reason I have come today is because I want to recommend Walker for a job at a shipping company [7] in London that is owned by a friend of mine. Although the work will be hard, the salary is very high and there will be opportunities for advancement. Walker has just agreed to this, but what are your opinions?”
Seeing that the old man's face had taken on a look of disbelieving ecstasy, as if he did not dare to believe in this good fortune, Wiltshire decided to strike while the iron was hot. Reaching into his purse, he extracted a few gold coins [8] and placed them on the table. “This is an advance payment for six month's work, please accept it first and use it to treat your wife's illness!”
The old man had never before seen such a great fortune laid out before his eyes, and now, he seemed to be so agitated when he saw the display that he was on the verge of bursting into tears. A tremor came over his body, as if he were going to fall to his knees. He said: “My Lord Marquess, I have never imagined that there would be such a kind-hearted person among the nobility! I… I really do not know how to express my gratitude towards you!”
Catching hold of the old man just as he made to kneel, Wiltshire smiled and said: “Walker has just done me a good turn, it is only right that I should do this. Ah, it just so happens that I will be leaving for London tomorrow, he can travel with me. Could I please trouble you to help him pack?”
So saying, Wiltshire turned to face Walker and saw with satisfaction that the man was wearing an infuriated yet conflicted expression on his face --- evidently he knew that he was not in a position to refuse the offer. Deliberately, he used a sweet and cheerful tone of voice to exhort: “Walker, come to the manor door tomorrow and wait for me, we shall set off together. Oh yes! You must not forget to bring that kilt along with you, there will be many occasions in London that will require you to wear it!”
When Wiltshire saw that Walker had balled up his fists tightly --- as if he wanted to commit murder --- and looked as though he was about to breathe fire as he glared at himself, he actually felt extremely buoyant. He turned towards the old man, using a dignified tone, one that befitted his elevated status as a member of the nobility, he said: “Mr. Robinson, we have an agreement then. I shall take my leave of you.”
“I will be forever grateful to you, my Lord Marquess, I really do not know how I can begin to repay your kindness…” The old man's eyes were moist and his voice was trembling. It was obvious that in his eyes, Wiltshire had already become a great benefactor to his whole family.
The entire Robinson family initially wanted to escort him all the way back to his manor as a way to honour him; they only gave up on that idea after Wiltshire's repeated protestations. Even after he had ridden off into the distance, he could still see that the old man had not stopped waving at him but beside the old man, Walker only stood by stiffly, as he had done all along. The expression on his face was even more morose than the one he wore after the first time he had been raped by Wiltshire.
Wiltshire spent the whole night alone in his bed, secretly nursing his excitement and anticipation. He was looking forward to the arrival of morning, wishing that it would come sooner.
“Brad, go and have the carriage that was previously used by Her Ladyship, my mother, harnessed to the horses. This time, I want to use that one.” He had travelled to London many times before, but never had prospect of the journey ever made him feel so excited. He was just like a child who had just been given a beloved toy for the very first time; his mind was filled with evil plans about how he was going to toy with that man.
“But, my Lord…” Brad was clearly greatly shocked by his sudden whim. “Although that carriage has a very fine exterior, the seating compartment is too narrow, with your Lordship's physique, it would seem that...”
Wiltshire furrowed his brows and said: “Just do what I tell you, don't be so long-winded!” With a look of helplessness on his face, the servant bowed and had no choice but to do as he had been instructed.
When the small carriage that had been designated for the use of the womenfolk in the family had been made ready, a servant had also come to report that the Robinson family had arrived.
When he saw that Walker was dressed in heavy clothes suitable for travelling, Wiltshire could not keep the look of disappointment from his face. Last night, his mind had been filled with fiery images of Walker, being crowded against him as they shared the small carriage, while wearing only his kilt. Although he knew that this was just a silly fantasy, it still caused him to be tormented by lust as he lay in bed, so that he tossed and turned until he finally fell asleep late into the night.
Walker was visibly taken aback when he saw the small but exquisitely crafted carriage. And then, when he realised that two drivers had already occupied all the spaces outside of the carriage that could be used for seating, the expression on his face grew even more panicked.
“I am really sorry. Because there is a problem with the left axle on my preferred carriage, the two of us will have to squeeze into this one.” He put on an airy expression as he explained matters to Walker; an expression that let him know with a single glance that Wiltshire was telling a barefaced lie. Wiltshire got his wish, Walker's facial expression changed to one of fury, but it was fury that he was unable to give vent to verbally.
“Walker, you can board the carriage first.” He motioned for Walker to enter the carriage before him, and handed his luggage to the coachman to be secured to the top of the carriage before he subsequently squeezed himself into the narrow confines of the carriage.
Although there were two rows of seats built into the opposing ends of the horse-drawn carriage, there was still a serious dearth of space when it had to accommodate two well-built men, who were both around six-feet-tall. Putting on a manner that suggested that he was finding it all to be uncomfortably cramped, he shifted and moved his right leg to the space between Walker's legs.
“This is much better.” His snow-white teeth were revealed as he grinned at the Scotsman, and casually shrugged off the fashionable overcoat he was wearing. “It’s a little hot, isn’t it?” Wiltshire had very long legs, in addition he was deliberately stretching them out, so that his knee was almost brushing against Walker's groin --- almost in a blind panic, the Scotsman tried to shift his body into a position where he could avoid that harassment, but he found that the space was so narrow that he simply could not budge.
“Walker, you have to work hard once you are in London, you must not fail to live up to the Lord Marquess's kindness!” Of course, Walker's father could not see how the legs of the two men were entwined. He raised his head to look up at his son, who was sitting in a magnificent carriage and the melancholia of their parting caused his tears to flow down his face without restraint.
“Papa, don’t worry! I will definitely work hard, you have to take care of your health and wait for my return!” Walker clutched at his father's hand --- criss-crossed with protruding veins --- and he could not help but to feel a wave of anguish sweep over his heart. Although he knew that Wiltshire had not extended a helping hand simply out of the goodness of his heart, but the money he had provided would indeed save his mother's life --- all he could hope for now was that Wiltshire's desire for conquest would be quickly sated, at which time Walker himself would be able to regain his freedom and he could then return home to reunite with his loved ones.
“Papa, you have to take good care of yourself, I will come back once I have earned some money! Wait for me!” The carriage had already pulled out of the manor gates, but Walker still leaned out to call loudly in the direction where his father and brothers stood, until the three figures had completely disappeared from view.
End of Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 3
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[1]: I’m not sure if the meaning comes through, but he’s basically telling Wiltshire that he should do a good deed by letting his brothers off so as to accumulate some good karma in preparation for being judged in the afterlife. It’s to do with the Buddhist concept of Narakas. Narakas are hell realms, and a being is born into a Naraka as a direct result of his or her accumulated karma and resides there for a finite period of time until that karma has achieved its full result.
[2]: A note on mealtimes during the 19th century: we now think of dinner as an evening meal but it was not always so. Dinner actually refers to the most significant meal of the day, which can be the noon or the evening meal. The fashionable hour for dinner began to be incrementally postponed during the 18th century. All these changes occurred first in London the further away from London one went, the greater difference there was in meal times, with rural Scotland lagging far behind, still eating dinner in the early afternoon at the end of the 1700s, when Londoners were beginning to dine at six or later. So, it is quite likely that Walker would think of this meal as dinner instead of lunch.
[3]: This is probably a more “Chinese” way of eating. Chinese people tend to hold their bowls in their hands throughout the meal, because we eat rice with chopsticks too, and the only effective way of doing this is to bring the bowl to the lips and use the chopsticks to shovel the rice into the mouth.
[4]: The ranks of the British peerage are, in descending order of importance: Duke/Duchess, Marquess/Marchioness, Earl/Countess, Viscount/Viscountess, Baron/Baroness.
[5]: Wiltshire would probably call a meal at midday luncheon (the abbreviation, lunch was only used from 1823), instead of dinner but it might not be part of his daily routine. From History magazine: “By beginning of the century, the upper class was rising from bed around ten a.m. or noon, and then eating breakfast at an hour when their grandparents had eaten dinner. They ate their dinner at perhaps five or six p.m. Then came supper, sometime between nine p.m. and two a.m.! The rich, famous and fashionable did not go to bed until dawn.” Lunch was regarded as a meal for the ladies and men did not routinely partake until the Victorian era.
[6]: Wiltshire uses a very polite way of speaking all throughout this speech. He’s using the respectful and formal form of all the words, such as “you” or “your son”. It doesn’t read much different in English, but it’s very different from the way he usually speaks.
[7]: At that time, Britain was in the midst of empire building, and shipping was a very lucrative industry.
[8]: Possibly referring to sovereigns, which are gold coins used as bullion. They were reintroduced in 1817 and each coin was supposed to contain 7.322381 grams of gold.
Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 3, Part 1
But what Walker found even more painful was that his self-esteem now hung in shreds --- Wiltshire! Carving that name deeply into his heart, the Scotsman chose to swallow his anger for the moment.
Watching that strong back as it slowly disappeared from his line of vision, Wiltshire smiled and fished out a pocket watch --- it was already time for dinner but on this afternoon, he had finally found a way to amuse himself, something that could save him from dying of boredom in Stonehaven.
Walker Robinson, we shall meet again! [1]
Although that's what he said, seven days would pass before Wiltshire’s next meeting with Walker transpired --- Earl Thuram of Darwen came up from London to pay him a surprise visit, disrupting his original plan.
The Earl was Wiltshire's good friend, but he had another secret identity, one that he would be widely condemned by everyone for. As the Prince Regent's only long-term male companion, he possessed power and influence that could not be rivalled by any of the other peers in the kingdom. Along with everybody else, Wiltshire could not figure out why his good friend, who was born a member of the aristocracy and held titles of nobility in his own right in addition to having extraordinarily handsome looks, would be willing to take up with the gormless, obese and wanton Prince Regent. But every time he would put this question to Darwen, he would just smile but make no reply. After the same scene played out several times, Wiltshire stopped pursuing that line of questioning.
Unfortunately, Earl Thuram, who had been secretly ordered to go to Stonehaven by the Prince Regent, soon came down with malaria, which had been circulating in the vicinity. After taking to his bed for a whole week, his health was restored but as soon as that happened, he requested that Wiltshire accompany him back to London.
Although Wiltshire's heart had already grown tired of the dreariness of life in Stonehaven, the prospect of having to meet with the Prince Regent again caused him to resist Thuram's proposal instinctively. After he had persisted in opposing the idea, he finally got Thuram to at least agree to return to London before him, but the Marquess was obliged to make his own departure from Stonehaven within three days.
As the time for departure drew near, Wiltshire was still idling his time away. In his infinite ennui, his thoughts began to turn to the Scotsman who he had pressed against the wall of his guestroom and violated. With his interest thus piqued, he summoned Brad and asked for directions to the Robinson family home before setting off in that direction by himself, while harbouring a feeling of eagerness at the opportunity to try something new; a feeling that surprised even himself.
By the time he had hurried over to the outlying reaches of the territory of Stonehaven where the Robinson homestead was situated, it was already close to noon. Riding on a horse, Wiltshire immediately spotted Walker, who was toiling in the fields. He was not alone; by his side were two young boys and an elderly man who had a face that was heavily lined with wrinkles.
Standing in the farmland, bathed in the autumn sun, Walker raised the hoe high before sinking it into the ground at his feet and pulling hard. Sweat fell continuously from his neck and forehead, falling onto the dark brown soil. Every time he raised his arm, the well-developed muscles of his arm and chest would bunch up so much that they seemed to be totally revealed through his thin undershirt [2] --- it was obviously a rather mundane scene of farm labour, but somehow, when it was viewed through Wiltshire's eyes, he could not help but to feel his throat beginning to run dry.
Damn, his trousers seemed to be of too tight a fit today --- feeling his nether regions begin to swell up, and the crotch of his trousers grow uncomfortably tight, he began to regret choosing to wear this new pair of trousers today. He urged his horse forward, stopping in front of Walker, who was still working industriously.
“Good older brother of Winifred, how have you been lately?” He made a great effort to make his voice sound as pleasant as the weather on this fine day but when Walker subsequently jerked his head up, the expression he was wearing was more appropriate for someone who had just heard Satan beckoning.
Wiltshire smiled as he drank in the sight of Walker's entire body with his eyes --- the determined chin, the broad and solid chest, the firm and tight waist, the strong upper thighs… last of all, his suggestive gaze travelled to that area between his legs, flickering over there for a few seconds before finally coming to a stop in that very impolite position.
Golden hair that shimmered under the sunshine with enough radiance to dazzle the eyes, a teasing gaze that glinted with indecent enticements; when Walker was met with this sight, he gasped with shock and his body also trembled --- albeit almost imperceptibly --- but he rapidly managed to restore his equilibrium.
Setting down the hoe he held in his hand, he used the towel that was draped around his neck to wipe off the sweat that dripped down continuously before putting on a mocking attitude as he gave Wiltshire a slight bow and said: “My honourable Lord Marquess, what wind blows you here?”
Wiltshire gave a wide grin and laughed, his snow-white teeth gleaming in the sun as he said: “I did say that we would meet again, did I not? Also, frankly speaking, at every single moment for the past few days, I have been thinking of your beautiful kilt and underneath your kilt, the...”
“Shut up!” It was evident that Walker could not believe that he could actually talk about this kind of topic in broad daylight.
“My Lord, perhaps you have forgotten this, but I think I had better give you a reminder. I only have one younger sister and she has already gotten married. If you are still thinking of using such a ridiculous excuse as jus primae noctis…”
When he mentioned the phrase "jus primae noctis", he abruptly paused and did not continue speaking. An unmistakable blush also flitted across his suntanned face and Wiltshire knew that he must be thinking of his own "first night" --- the memory of being buried deeply into Walker's smoulderingly-hot, tight and resisting body flashed across his own mind, causing area under his abdomen to feel as though it was being stretched even more taut, and he could not help but to give a swallow.
Taking great care not to have anything brush against the swollen desire that hung between his legs, Wiltshire dismounted from the horse. Thus obscured by the horse, he brazenly brought his lips beside Walker's ears.
“If you don't wish for me to make loud proclamations right here about how tight, how hot and how narrow your asshole is, then immediately...” He pointed to the forest that bordered the field, “We need to find a place where we can have a good chat.”
He deliberately moved impossibly close to Walker; so that with every single word he spoke and every time that he breathed, he sent a hot puff of air wafting against Walker's ear. He saw with satisfaction that Walker's angry eyes now gleamed with a murderous look. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked ahead, into the small forest.
He heard Walker's footsteps following behind him but Wiltshire did not turn back for a look and continued to move forward, only stopping when they were deep in the forest.
“What exactly do you want?” Almost immediately, an angry voice rang out, evidently, Walker's patience had been stretched nearly to the breaking point.
Aristocratic lords invariably liked their playthings to be fresh, wasn't it so? And he had already submitted to humiliation and allowed Wiltshire to toy with him, how could that not have been enough! That day, if it weren't for the fact that his family was waiting for him to return with Winifred to commence the wedding, Walker would be willing to swear that he would have ripped the Marquess to shreds the moment he opened his poisonous mouth and made that shameless demand.
He swept his contemptuous glance over Wiltshire, who was opposite him, leaning against a tree. That aristocrat! Although he could not be considered short, but with the type of slender build he possessed, what physical strength could he possibly have!
Wiltshire answered his question with silence. With big strides, he walked over to Walker and with no hesitation, he divested himself of his trousers and casually tossed them aside.
His pent-up desire that he had had to endure for such a long time could finally be fully exposed and the sex organ on his lower body stood up proudly, pointing straight at Walker. Engorged with blood, the organ was continuing to grow and the transparent fluid that hung from its front end was undeniable evidence of his lust.
Walker was so shocked by the scene before his eyes that he was totally stunned; as if he were under some enchantment, he stood stiffly, rooted to the same spot. He could not tear his eyes away from the hard and erect thing that Wiltshire was displaying before his eyes and his facial muscles were twitching uncontrollably.
“What do I want! Isn’t that obvious enough!” Wiltshire said placidly; in the next second he had pulled Walker, who was caught off-guard and thus unable to put up any resistance, into his arms. “I want to strip off all of your clothes, I want to kiss every part of your body fiercely, I want to use my hand to knead your nipples until they are swollen and sore! I want to fondle you until you are utterly spent and can orgasm no more!! I want to humiliate you until you cry out and beg me to enter your body!!!”
As he clearly enunciated words that would make even the most seasoned prostitute in the metropolis of London blush by the side of Walker's ear, he clutched Walker's body tightly in his arms, inserted his right leg into the space between Walker's legs and pressed it against his crotch while his hand mercilessly ripped apart his undershirt and pinched the erect nipple on his chest, pressing his nail hard against it…
“Ah…” Walker gave blood-curdling shrieks while desperately struggling like a wild beast that had been pierced by an arrow but Wiltshire was enormously strong, almost beyond compare, and ruthlessly pressed him between his body and the tree. The thigh that he had wedged between Walker's legs was moving back and forth forcefully, attempting to arouse Walker's lust.
“Get lost! Get lost!” Walker's shouts came out as a hiss because his breath caught in his throat. He raised both of his hands in front of his chest, forcefully trying to push Wiltshire away but Wiltshire's hands were far more powerful than he had imagined; they gripped him as firmly as pincers made of iron would.
When he saw the frantic way Walker was struggling, a desire for conquest began to consume Wiltshire just like a wildfire consumes everything in its path, driving him to bear down upon Walker's lips forcefully --- a heady, intensely masculine flavour instantly engulfed him; like an aphrodisiac, it drove him even wilder.
Prying the moist and lush lips apart, Wiltshire's tongue quickly extended inside and set about exploring Walker's mouth riotously.
Having been tightly restrained against Wiltshire, the tremendous heat and sexual desire that Wiltshire's body exuded in great waves caused Walker to become dizzy and light-headed. Just as he was about to be submerged in a sea of lust, he managed to summon one last bit of strength and bit down hard on Wiltshire's tongue which was still probing the depths of his oral cavity.
Wiltshire's lust had been bubbling over like a pot of boiling water, but the intense pain had the effect of cooling it off significantly. With a loud scream, he let go of Walker, and clapped his hand over his mouth, which was gushing with blood from his bleeding tongue.
His wild gaze shot to Walker, who had collapsed to kneel on the ground, his legs too wobbly to support him due to the abruptness with which he had been jolted from the throes of passion. The intrinsic savagery that was part of Wiltshire's character was awakened in his chest. Almost in the very next second, he rushed over and fiercely wrestled that strong body to the ground.
Walker was startled, he had obviously not expected Wiltshire to be able to recover or to launch another attack on himself so quickly. He valiantly attempted to struggle although he had been caught unprepared, trying to engineer a second escape from the hands of the Marquess.
Having had his initial attempt thwarted, Wiltshire seemed to grow even more frenzied. With all the strength in his body, he pressed down on Walker's back and forcefully twisted his arms to his back. Even more alarmingly, he jammed his right thigh between Walker's legs; hooking them up, he wrenched them apart and placed them by his sides.
“The lords of the nobility are nothing but a pack of male dogs in heat! Male dog! Get lost! Don't touch me with your dirty hands!” Walker had been so firmly pinned down by Wiltshire that his head was the only part that he could still move freely. He cursed viciously, and spat out a mouthful of saliva that carried traces of blood onto the ground in front of him, while bucking his body back and forth in an attempt to break away from the Marquess’s death grip.
The friction created by Walker's thrashing caused Wiltshire to feel as though his burning desire had been brought to an apex. At this point, he lost any semblance of refinement. His golden hair was now wet and scattered, hanging messily on his forehead and perspiration kept dripping down. Looking at him now, people would probably not recognize him as the Marquess who was famed for his grace and languid elegance throughout the highest echelons of London society.
He had to admit that the strength in Walker’s arm was really quite remarkable, but Wiltshire himself had undergone years of training in the skill of wrestling at clubs in London, and he was confident enough that he could subdue this country bumpkin who had completely no knowledge of any technique. Freeing up a hand, he undid Walker's belt. Using the resources at hand, he improvised and used the belt to secure Walker's hands behind his back.
Although he now occupied the more advantageous position, but by time that Wiltshire managed to accomplish all of this, he was also wearing a look of fatigue --- he was panting hard, but it wasn't only because he was short of breath, it could be further attributed to the explosive desire that was consuming him, the intensity of which surprised even himself.
Walker felt Wiltshire draw even closer to himself; hot droplets of perspiration dribbled over his own neck and head, and his nose filled with the distinctive aroma of the French fragrance that always scented Wiltshire's body. Walker was extremely discomfited but still, he could not break free. He was constantly moving the hands that were tied behind his back in a bid to free them and prevent Wiltshire from getting close.
“Tsk tsk tsk, you are not wearing that beautiful kilt of yours today? This is really inconvenient!” Wiltshire's slender and beautiful hand wrapped around the bulge between Walker's legs, and began to move about with the most dubious of intentions. Having been divested of its belt, the trousers were shoved to below Walker's buttocks, exposing the male organ that was obscured by his dense pubic hair.
Their previous sexual encounter had been too rushed; there had simply not been enough time for Wiltshire to look closely at Walker's body. Therefore, when the bare body was finally exposed under the sunlight, with nothing to hinder the view, he could not help himself and extended a hand to hold that heavy flesh, narrowing his eyes as he attentively scrutinized and admired the sight. The colour of the hair on Walker's lower regions seemed to be of a darker shade than the hair on his head, it was almost on the verge of being a rich brown; in contrast, the colour of his skin there was actually significantly paler than his upper body, because it had not absorbed the rays of the sun.
“Madman! Pervert! Hurry up and get lost!” When he saw that this Marquess, who possessed such elegant facial features, was staring non-stop at his sex organ as he continued to knead it, Walker felt as though he was on the verge of throwing up. He could constantly feel Wiltshire's unremitting heat against his bare buttocks; that unspeakable sensation caused his whole body to tremble with disgust.
“Really? So you like to do things quickly! I'll grant you your wish!” A thread of callousness flashed in the depths of Wiltshire's eyes and in the next moment, he ruthlessly thrust his hard-as-iron sex organ into Walker's body. Although he had already prepared himself mentally for this, that type of sharp pain still instantly shot through Walker, paralyzing his entire central nervous system, rendering him completely incapable of movement for the next few minutes.
Dirty! Depraved! So humiliating that one feels that his body is going to break apart! Even though he was born male, he now knew from experience what women who had been forcefully violated felt --- the strong wish that one could immediately drop dead, right at the moment when one was being penetrated against their will!
As Wiltshire was thrusting mercilessly into the very deepest part of his body, in that moment, Walker actually felt a trace of gratification in his heart --- glad that the one who had to endure all of this was not that totally unworldly sister of his, glad that the one who had to endure being plundered to satisfy a cruel appetite was himself and not her.
Thrusting into the body beneath him as violently as a gale-force wind or a sudden deluge, Wiltshire had never ever felt such intense desire before; he felt as though he was about to be reduced to ashes by the heat of that scorching lust.
Only wanting to penetrate into the very depths of this body! Only wanting to pillage all that this man possessed, to make it become his own! The desire was so overpowering that he almost wanted to meld the other man's body with his own; so overpowering that everything appeared to be a blur in front of his eyes. His hand constantly tightened firmly around Walker's chest, holding him so tightly that there was not even a sliver of a gap between the two of them.
At the moment of climax, the intense rush of pleasure caught Wiltshire by surprise, like the tide coming in, wave after wave engulfed his whole body, leaving his limbs relaxed and numb. Again and again, he shot his overflowing desire into Walker's body. By the time he came back to his senses, realized that he had lost control and stiffly withdrew from Walker's body, Walker had already collapsed onto the ground at an awkward angle as if he were a lifeless doll.
Looking at the fresh blood and semen flowing continuously from the inflamed entrance which was still unable to close itself, for the first time in his life, Wiltshire began to have an inkling of what guilt felt like. Leaning over, he helped Walker to sit up and settled him in the crook of his arms before untying the belt that had chafed Walker's hands red and swollen. Wiltshire slowly caressed his body with his fingers and eyes, before finally pressing his own lips upon those luscious lips.
Having just experienced the unprecedented amount of pleasure that this body could bring to himself, how could Wiltshire be willing to let him go so easily? A brand new idea began to gradually take shape in his mind and he promptly decided that he would carry out this game that could make his blood boil with passion right to the very end.
The body under his hands gave a slight quiver; Walker was coming back to his senses after having indulged in a short bout of utter despair.
“You!” If looks could kill, Wiltshire would probably have died a thousand times by now. Walker began to struggle, thinking that he wanted to break free from this embrace. However, the agony that shot through his body from all of his joints made him unable to summon up any strength and in dejection, he again collapsed into the crook of the Marquess’s arms.
“Don’t move!” Using just the one hand, Wiltshire managed to still him. His slender finger slowly probed into that hole which had been stuffed full of his own desire just a few moments before, trying to expel the semen that still remained in Walker's body.
As fluid flowed slowly from the depths of his body, the strange sensation quickly caused Walker's face to blanch. Without conscious thought, his hand clutched at Wiltshire's arm, trying to prevent his finger from going deeper into his own body.
When he felt that the residual semen had just about been totally removed, Wiltshire withdrew his finger. Tearing a strip of fabric off of his silk shirt, he silently helped Walker to wipe away the physical traces of their encounter that were still left on his legs before he got them both dressed as neatly as possible.
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[1]: I’m not sure if this was spoken aloud or not; it is not in quotation marks, but a line further down indicates that it was.
[2]: The word used here is “汗衫 (hàn shān)” which means vest/undershirt. It probably brings to mind the tank-top style undershirts that men wear today, but this type of underwear only came into being during the 20th century. It is more likely that he was wearing what we would now call a shirt. At that time, shirts were considered underwear because it was the layer than was next to their skin, and also, it was not proper to appear in society dressed in just a shirt on the torso; they were expected to wear waistcoats and jackets as well.
Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 3, Part 2
After everything was put in order, Wiltshire propped Walker up, letting him lean against his shoulder. In this manner, the two people walked together, heading for the edge of the woods.
“If you think that I will forgive you just because you’re doing this…” Walker was apparently greatly puzzled and confused by his gentle actions and made this ungracious comment with a gruff voice.
“Hush! Don’t Speak. That is, if you don’t wish for me to use this thing of mine to gag your mouth!” Wiltshire grabbed Walker's hand and pressed it against his own groin.
When he touched that organ - still fiery hot and hard --- Walker immediately wrenched his hand away, as if he had been scalded. Gazing at Wiltshire with the same look in his eyes as he would use to look upon a monster, he said: “Are you a horse or something? Obviously… obviously, you’ve already…”
Obviously, he had already climaxed countless times in his body, but incredibly, this man was still sporting an erection. Even though he was also a man, Walker could not understand how he could have such an insatiable sexual appetite.
“That’s why I told you not to speak! Now, bring me to your home!”
Walker began to shout loudly: “Are you mad! Why do you want to go to my home? My Lord Marquess, you should amass some good karma [1]! My younger brothers are not even fifteen-years-old yet!”
“Who said that I’m going there to have a look at your brothers!” Wiltshire was seriously affronted by him, “Dear Mr. Robinson, if you think that you can reach home safely without the need for any assistance, then you can crawl back by yourself from this point on!”
Knowing that in his current state, he would indeed find it impossible to walk home without assistance, Walker could only choose to suffer in silence.
The two of them slowly made their way out from the woods; it was already noon by that point and the field was now deserted. “They have probably gone back to the house to have their meals [2].” Walker's face was expressionless as he pointed out a small thatched cottage not far from the field, indicating that Wiltshire should help him over. Never before in his life had the Marquess ever attended to someone like this, but because this mess was of his own making, Wiltshire was obliged to do as he was instructed.
Upon entering that simple and crude shack, Wiltshire recognized at a glance that the three people who were crowded around the table having their meal were the old man and the two young boys he had seen previously. As for the wan-faced woman who was lying on the bed, she should be none other than Walker's mother.
When they saw Walker and Wiltshire come into the house, the three people put down the bowls [3] they were holding in their hands. “Walker, you were gone for so long, where did you go?” The elder of the two boys inquired while he curiously took the measure of Wiltshire at the same time --- although his hair was tousled and his clothes were in disarray, one could still clearly see that he was a member of the elite.
“Sorry to impose on you! I am the Marquess of Wiltshire, the owner of these lands.” Wiltshire told the old man, speaking in a refined and courteous manner.
The old man was evidently shocked by Wiltshire's declaration of his identity, and immediately rose up from his chair.
“Good heavens, it’s the Lord Marquess! Please have a seat!” He seemed to be totally bewildered and at a loss as he busied himself carrying a stool over for the Marquess to sit down. His panicked demeanour clearly communicated that he had never before had the opportunity to be in the presence of such a highly important aristocrat [4], especially at such close proximity.
When he noticed how his eldest son, Walker, was leaning against the body of the Marquess, the elderly man got a fright and hastened to reprimand him: “Walker, quickly ask the Lord Marquess to have a seat! Go to the backyard, slaughter that hen and cook it so that we can show the Marquess some hospitality...”
“My Lord Marquess had probably not had his midday meal yet, how about having some food at my humble abode?” He turned to address Wiltshire fawningly, using a tone of voice that was distinctly different from the one he had used to speak to Walker.
“Ah, that’s not necessary! I have already had my meal [5].” Seeing that Walker was making an effort to prop himself up, as if he intended to leave his side, Wiltshire grabbed hold of him: “Actually, we had just encountered bandits while we were in the woods and to save me, Walker took a fall from the horse and was unable to walk for a time. Therefore, I escorted him back.” Not even giving a blink, Wiltshire blithely told this lie and without much thought, he came up with an excuse to explain away Walker's debility.
“Is that so?” It had obviously been a blatant lie, but the old man seemed to believe it unreservedly: “My Lord Marquess is really kind-hearted. The previous matter concerning Winifred was only resolved thanks to your great benevolence, our whole family is deeply grateful to you!”
He already knew that it would have been impossible for Walker to reveal that he had surrendered his own virginity on behalf of his sister but when he imagined Walker attributing Winifred's safe return to his own kindness when asked, Wiltshire could not help but to find the scenario deeply funny.
When he saw that by his side, Walker's face had turned ashen, Wiltshire hurriedly restrained his laughter. Looking to change the subject, he looked at the woman who had been lying unconscious on the bed all this while, and said: “Is this Mrs. Robinson? Is she feeling unwell?”
The old man heaved a sigh and his face took on a look of grief: “Yes. Emily is seriously ill, but we don't have enough money to pay for her treatment. It would seem that any further delays...” His expression looked very pained, and the two boys behind him also bowed their heads.
Wiltshire surveyed the four walls of this bare-bones house. He knew that there were many impoverished people who died of remediable diseases simply because they did not have enough money to pay for medical attention --- from the looks of the woman, it seemed that she did not have the luxury of delaying treatment any longer if she hoped to survive. He sneaked a glance at Walker and saw that the corners of his eyes had turned slightly red; at the sight, his heart couldn't help but be moved.
He cleared his throat, doing his utmost to use a sincere tone of voice as he said [6]: “Mr. Robinson, ever since I had the good fortune of meeting your son previously, I have felt that he is very industrious and honest. In fact, the reason I have come today is because I want to recommend Walker for a job at a shipping company [7] in London that is owned by a friend of mine. Although the work will be hard, the salary is very high and there will be opportunities for advancement. Walker has just agreed to this, but what are your opinions?”
Seeing that the old man's face had taken on a look of disbelieving ecstasy, as if he did not dare to believe in this good fortune, Wiltshire decided to strike while the iron was hot. Reaching into his purse, he extracted a few gold coins [8] and placed them on the table. “This is an advance payment for six month's work, please accept it first and use it to treat your wife's illness!”
The old man had never before seen such a great fortune laid out before his eyes, and now, he seemed to be so agitated when he saw the display that he was on the verge of bursting into tears. A tremor came over his body, as if he were going to fall to his knees. He said: “My Lord Marquess, I have never imagined that there would be such a kind-hearted person among the nobility! I… I really do not know how to express my gratitude towards you!”
Catching hold of the old man just as he made to kneel, Wiltshire smiled and said: “Walker has just done me a good turn, it is only right that I should do this. Ah, it just so happens that I will be leaving for London tomorrow, he can travel with me. Could I please trouble you to help him pack?”
So saying, Wiltshire turned to face Walker and saw with satisfaction that the man was wearing an infuriated yet conflicted expression on his face --- evidently he knew that he was not in a position to refuse the offer. Deliberately, he used a sweet and cheerful tone of voice to exhort: “Walker, come to the manor door tomorrow and wait for me, we shall set off together. Oh yes! You must not forget to bring that kilt along with you, there will be many occasions in London that will require you to wear it!”
When Wiltshire saw that Walker had balled up his fists tightly --- as if he wanted to commit murder --- and looked as though he was about to breathe fire as he glared at himself, he actually felt extremely buoyant. He turned towards the old man, using a dignified tone, one that befitted his elevated status as a member of the nobility, he said: “Mr. Robinson, we have an agreement then. I shall take my leave of you.”
“I will be forever grateful to you, my Lord Marquess, I really do not know how I can begin to repay your kindness…” The old man's eyes were moist and his voice was trembling. It was obvious that in his eyes, Wiltshire had already become a great benefactor to his whole family.
The entire Robinson family initially wanted to escort him all the way back to his manor as a way to honour him; they only gave up on that idea after Wiltshire's repeated protestations. Even after he had ridden off into the distance, he could still see that the old man had not stopped waving at him but beside the old man, Walker only stood by stiffly, as he had done all along. The expression on his face was even more morose than the one he wore after the first time he had been raped by Wiltshire.
Wiltshire spent the whole night alone in his bed, secretly nursing his excitement and anticipation. He was looking forward to the arrival of morning, wishing that it would come sooner.
“Brad, go and have the carriage that was previously used by Her Ladyship, my mother, harnessed to the horses. This time, I want to use that one.” He had travelled to London many times before, but never had prospect of the journey ever made him feel so excited. He was just like a child who had just been given a beloved toy for the very first time; his mind was filled with evil plans about how he was going to toy with that man.
“But, my Lord…” Brad was clearly greatly shocked by his sudden whim. “Although that carriage has a very fine exterior, the seating compartment is too narrow, with your Lordship's physique, it would seem that...”
Wiltshire furrowed his brows and said: “Just do what I tell you, don't be so long-winded!” With a look of helplessness on his face, the servant bowed and had no choice but to do as he had been instructed.
When the small carriage that had been designated for the use of the womenfolk in the family had been made ready, a servant had also come to report that the Robinson family had arrived.
When he saw that Walker was dressed in heavy clothes suitable for travelling, Wiltshire could not keep the look of disappointment from his face. Last night, his mind had been filled with fiery images of Walker, being crowded against him as they shared the small carriage, while wearing only his kilt. Although he knew that this was just a silly fantasy, it still caused him to be tormented by lust as he lay in bed, so that he tossed and turned until he finally fell asleep late into the night.
Walker was visibly taken aback when he saw the small but exquisitely crafted carriage. And then, when he realised that two drivers had already occupied all the spaces outside of the carriage that could be used for seating, the expression on his face grew even more panicked.
“I am really sorry. Because there is a problem with the left axle on my preferred carriage, the two of us will have to squeeze into this one.” He put on an airy expression as he explained matters to Walker; an expression that let him know with a single glance that Wiltshire was telling a barefaced lie. Wiltshire got his wish, Walker's facial expression changed to one of fury, but it was fury that he was unable to give vent to verbally.
“Walker, you can board the carriage first.” He motioned for Walker to enter the carriage before him, and handed his luggage to the coachman to be secured to the top of the carriage before he subsequently squeezed himself into the narrow confines of the carriage.
Although there were two rows of seats built into the opposing ends of the horse-drawn carriage, there was still a serious dearth of space when it had to accommodate two well-built men, who were both around six-feet-tall. Putting on a manner that suggested that he was finding it all to be uncomfortably cramped, he shifted and moved his right leg to the space between Walker's legs.
“This is much better.” His snow-white teeth were revealed as he grinned at the Scotsman, and casually shrugged off the fashionable overcoat he was wearing. “It’s a little hot, isn’t it?” Wiltshire had very long legs, in addition he was deliberately stretching them out, so that his knee was almost brushing against Walker's groin --- almost in a blind panic, the Scotsman tried to shift his body into a position where he could avoid that harassment, but he found that the space was so narrow that he simply could not budge.
“Walker, you have to work hard once you are in London, you must not fail to live up to the Lord Marquess's kindness!” Of course, Walker's father could not see how the legs of the two men were entwined. He raised his head to look up at his son, who was sitting in a magnificent carriage and the melancholia of their parting caused his tears to flow down his face without restraint.
“Papa, don’t worry! I will definitely work hard, you have to take care of your health and wait for my return!” Walker clutched at his father's hand --- criss-crossed with protruding veins --- and he could not help but to feel a wave of anguish sweep over his heart. Although he knew that Wiltshire had not extended a helping hand simply out of the goodness of his heart, but the money he had provided would indeed save his mother's life --- all he could hope for now was that Wiltshire's desire for conquest would be quickly sated, at which time Walker himself would be able to regain his freedom and he could then return home to reunite with his loved ones.
“Papa, you have to take good care of yourself, I will come back once I have earned some money! Wait for me!” The carriage had already pulled out of the manor gates, but Walker still leaned out to call loudly in the direction where his father and brothers stood, until the three figures had completely disappeared from view.
End of Jus Primae Noctis Chapter 3
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[1]: I’m not sure if the meaning comes through, but he’s basically telling Wiltshire that he should do a good deed by letting his brothers off so as to accumulate some good karma in preparation for being judged in the afterlife. It’s to do with the Buddhist concept of Narakas. Narakas are hell realms, and a being is born into a Naraka as a direct result of his or her accumulated karma and resides there for a finite period of time until that karma has achieved its full result.
[2]: A note on mealtimes during the 19th century: we now think of dinner as an evening meal but it was not always so. Dinner actually refers to the most significant meal of the day, which can be the noon or the evening meal. The fashionable hour for dinner began to be incrementally postponed during the 18th century. All these changes occurred first in London the further away from London one went, the greater difference there was in meal times, with rural Scotland lagging far behind, still eating dinner in the early afternoon at the end of the 1700s, when Londoners were beginning to dine at six or later. So, it is quite likely that Walker would think of this meal as dinner instead of lunch.
[3]: This is probably a more “Chinese” way of eating. Chinese people tend to hold their bowls in their hands throughout the meal, because we eat rice with chopsticks too, and the only effective way of doing this is to bring the bowl to the lips and use the chopsticks to shovel the rice into the mouth.
[4]: The ranks of the British peerage are, in descending order of importance: Duke/Duchess, Marquess/Marchioness, Earl/Countess, Viscount/Viscountess, Baron/Baroness.
[5]: Wiltshire would probably call a meal at midday luncheon (the abbreviation, lunch was only used from 1823), instead of dinner but it might not be part of his daily routine. From History magazine: “By beginning of the century, the upper class was rising from bed around ten a.m. or noon, and then eating breakfast at an hour when their grandparents had eaten dinner. They ate their dinner at perhaps five or six p.m. Then came supper, sometime between nine p.m. and two a.m.! The rich, famous and fashionable did not go to bed until dawn.” Lunch was regarded as a meal for the ladies and men did not routinely partake until the Victorian era.
[6]: Wiltshire uses a very polite way of speaking all throughout this speech. He’s using the respectful and formal form of all the words, such as “you” or “your son”. It doesn’t read much different in English, but it’s very different from the way he usually speaks.
[7]: At that time, Britain was in the midst of empire building, and shipping was a very lucrative industry.
[8]: Possibly referring to sovereigns, which are gold coins used as bullion. They were reintroduced in 1817 and each coin was supposed to contain 7.322381 grams of gold.
