The Fancy (5 page)

scribe, you have already seen, discerned, gathered

- yes - you are aware of my sin - there is no

reasonable means of which I could hide it; thus my

confession and acceptance. My God, Lord, Father -

her curves, the firmness and beauty of her bare

breasts beckoned me so that I fought all within - not

to give in to lustful stirrings, yet - …

I must admit to testing the reactions of my

fingertips upon her nipples - they are dark and

distended to a hardness at my touch.

Quinton sat back and closing his eyes, gulped.

He felt himself jump, stir, lengthen. Replacing the

quil into the wel , he dusted his entry and left it to

complete later. Standing from the chair, he had a

decision to make, climb back into bed with her and

fight his urges for sleep? Or return to the room

below, making the best of resting on the sofa?

"You must see about her needs, not your own!"

He scolded himself. Returning to his bed, he sat,

sighed, prayed, blew out the lantern and laid upon

his bed for rest that did not easily come.

Deep into the night, the wench woke him three

times with her fever, with whimpers, nightmares -

terror in her cries. Yet and stil , al while she

struggled, her voice weak, she came to enough to

plead, "I be betta' masta, I be betta' - don't - give me

up - I be betta'."

Bathing her brow, forcing her to drink more of

the special tea he'd made from herbs he had

col ected while in the Orient, his murmur to her was

gentle, "Sleep, don't be sil y - you are a gift - one - it

is best - that I keep... sleep." There, he said it; he

knew that it was true, that he would,
keep
her. He

wondered if he'd known al along, that he would keep

this gift, and make the best of it – her? At one

moment in the night, her feverish eyes stared into

his; he smiled for her, to reassure her and suddenly

realized he didn't know her name.

"Tel me - if you can - what name your mother

announced upon your birth?"

Licking her chapped, cracked lips to moisten

them before she spoke, "Suga ... my name - Suga."

Once more, taking himself by surprise, Quinton

chuckled out loud; he shook his head in wonder.

Her eyes drifted closed, and again she slept; it

was her final interruption of rest. Al was quiet once

more, he returned to his place beside her, closing

his eyes, before drifting off to sleep, a smile spread

across his face, for in his mind, her name repeated

itself, over and over until the final mention and

version of it, brought his smile, 'Suga
Caine.'
Life

was not so terrible after al . Quinton had a feeling the

Lord was saying to him,
“Life – is not so bad. There

– your day has ended - better? Quinton?”
For him to

answer the Lord,
“Yes Lord, yes - better.”

For their own reasons, both were at the height

of being ful y drained. They slept late into the next

day and through it, only rising for a bit of privacy to

relieve themselves via the chamber pot, Quinton

leaving her to take care of it, returning to dump it

despite the distress it caused her at having him do it.

He smiled and proclaimed, “You are a sil y little rat-

slayer, back in bed, I am not above this. Do as I say,

grumble no more.” Upon his return, again he found

her fast asleep, despite her fight to try and do what

she felt her chore, she was exhausted – drained.

Aware of that, Quinton returned to bed and together,

they slept. Even in her condition, she made every

effort to keep her distance from him while lying within

reach – this Quinton noticed as he would wake,

check on her, giving her soup, water, cheese, tea

and a bit of bread.

No matter how tired himself, needing to recover

from days of being in attendance to sick ones, he

didn’t shirk his responsibility to see to her, he rose

with scratchy, bleary eyes, making more sustenance

for her, for himself where in silence they ate and

drank – the entire time her eyes were cast

downward, as if ashamed of herself for al owing this,

as if it were an unspoken rule that she not look him in

the eyes.

Quinton sighed, he would address her fears

later, but for now, they both needed more rest, thus

he continued to check on her every time he stirred

and immediately upon finding her okay he went back

to sleep.

Side by side they remained; becoming more

familiar with one another – in that time of rest and

healing; Suga learned al she needed to know about

the man she considered, her new master, she lay in

his bed and not even one night, had he made an

attempt to take her against her wil . It was early upon

the third morning when their rest and peace was

interrupted with a banging at his door. Startled

awake, Quinton blinked, trying to adjust his eyes to

opening and staying that way; stumbling from the

bed, he yawned going to his window, his bedroom

was right above the front door; opening the window

he looked out, yel ing, "Calm down, enough of that

banging - look up young man - up!" He cal ed down

to the anxious male wringing his hands and then

banging once more; he caught himself, stopped and

looked up, "Please sir! My apologies, tis urgent - it's

me brother - I've taken off two of his fingers - he's

bleedin' awful! I didn't mean to do it - twas an

accident - hurry sir, please - he could die - blood is

everywhere!" Just like that, he was alert, awake,

refreshed, and ready to go! "Very wel - I need to

wash, get dressed, sit there, wait for me, I haven't a

clue of where you live, we shal take my carriage to

hasten the journey."

The young male nodded, rubbing his

midsection that was tight with worry, he was wishing

to tel him hurry, but kept it back - sitting on the

doorstep, he rocked and waited. Closing the window

to and turning back to the room, Quinton looked to

the bed, it was empty. "Where has she gone to

now?" He blasted, whipping his night shirt up and off

of his body, standing nude – displaying to no one in

particular a body lean, strong with whipcord muscles.

Going straight to his clothing, he began

dressing hurriedly, watching his door for her return.

Due to the emergency, he had little time to locate her

as he rushed through his home - going for the

remedies he would use for blood loss and closing off

wounds, tossing al into his medical grip. In a hurry

and impatient with wondering where she'd gone to;

he cal ed out, "Suga?! Suga?!" Stil there was no

sight of her, "Blast you Suga Caine, where have you

gone to?!"

There was no answer, he could not wait, nor

worry. He rushed out his back door, heading for his

smal stable barn when once more, he was brought

to a stop – straight ahead was his horse and

carriage being led from the barn, by none other than

- Suga.

"Al ready masta, I do it for you - you gots to go

- I tol' this horse, hurr'up now - masta ain't got time for

no foolishness!" She'd hurried and was out of breath,

her voice was sweet, feminine, sultry, low - he

couldn't believe his ears, he couldn't believe his

eyes. She was sweating, wrapped in the sheet with it

knotted about her as best she could and bare foot;

his horse, carriage, ready to go.

"Suga, are you mad!? Back inside with you! I

can do such things myself!" He scolded.

"I got's t'do my bit! You don’ enuff now, gone -

don't worry 'bout me - he waitin' - gone!" She

ordered him in her sweet concerned way. Just like

that, head down, she dashed off back into the house,

so that he could climb into his carriage and be off.

Quinton suddenly smiled once more, he was

breaking a record, he’d smiled more since having

Suga than he had that year. Driving to the front for

the young man, who hurriedly leapt on board and

they were on their way.

Sure enough, Quinton arrived to quite a mess,

and true, the man he was to treat had lost a great

deal of blood – the family had also col ected his

fingers, as if he could put them back on.

Cleaning the wound, Quinton wondered if the

body could heal itself back in such a way, as to reknit

the appendages back fol owing such a severing.

Even at his thoughts, he’d heard of no success as of

yet for such a procedure; being honest, he explained

that unfortunately, it was impossible. To do so, would

endanger him further with gangrene and worse.

The family and the young man, had little choice

but accept his advice and he carried on with

cleaning al areas of the two finger stumps, and then

painstakingly sewed them closed, pul ing the skin

over to stitch them. Two or more hours later, the

deed was done, the fingers bandaged with him

warning, if infection set in – to contact him

immediately.

Afterward, the mother fetched warm water for

him to clean up; her husband asking what they could

possibly give as payment. Giving it some thought,

Quinton informed them, “I'm in need of cloth, cloth for

garments, I’ve a new servant who has come to me

with little, in fact, nothing. Have you cloth which can

be made into something decent? What can you offer

to that end?” he asked. “What size of a servant sir?”

One of their young daughters asked, wishing to

contribute.

“She's smal , just a little more of her than you,

but not much.”

“I can spare a chemise, a gown, one of my

older ones, wil that do?” She asked, moving quickly

to fetch them, “They're clean, not yet threadbare.”

“It wil be better than her current state, that wil

be fine, thank you.”

“We can spare you a couple of laying hens,

young ones; don't want to be owing you, sir, Dr.

Caine.” The husband spoke up. Quinton smiled,

“Two young laying hens, and the garments, sounds

fair.”

“Pa, throw in one of them mongrel pups, we got

three left.” A son spoke up.

“Go get'im one, pick that big chubby one – it's

gone be a moose in the en’ I'm thinkin'.”

Quinton sighed, he didn't real y care for the

idea of a dog, but he couldn't turn them down, they

were anxious to settle their debt with him. He wanted

to get moving, his mind on Suga – she was in his

home alone, he’d been in possession of her only in a

better part of a week, and already he worried over

her.

By the time he drove his carriage back into his

barn, chickens squawking behind him from their

crate, the fat, big paw puppy whimpering below his

seat, he was eager to get inside and check on her,

hoping she'd fared wel in his absence. He'd barely

cleared the barn door when out of the house she

came rushing, straight into the barn, “I'm here masta',

I'l do that for you.” She went straight for the harness

of his horse.

“Suga Caine! Where inside of your head did

you hear me cal for you to do such a thing? Get

back inside – back at once!” He ordered.

“Can't masta', gots to help – gots to do my bit.”

“Stop cal ing me that blasted title! Master – I

have gone to great lengths to avoid the bowels of

hel in my passing – I’l not let the treating of you send

me there! This is not your bit! Inside right now – wait

– here, these are for you – and uh – I suppose this is

too.” He passed her the garments and then held up

the grunting puppy, “We’l both starve with the

feeding of this one, he'l be everywhere if we leave

him out here, until we have a place to confine him,

he'l have to stay inside. We have hens as wel ,

laying hens. They'l stay in the crate here in the barn

until I get a coop built I suppose.” He went on,

speaking to her as if she’d always been in his life.

Her look of surprise at the clothing and then the

puppy made him smile, “There you are once more,

that look upon your face, I can't very wel have you

around in that sheet can I? Take them and the pup –

get inside.”