Story for the Day: Ms Mandidoun

The Coming of Ms Mandidoun

                Adaoire was equally pleased to see her but hid his immense happiness behind the wicked grin she was no doubt desirous of seeing. He opened his arms to her and when she attached herself to him crushed her in an endearing embrace. He had not expected that she should ever return after the threats he had accorded her father on the matter of her visitations and he could not deny that this was a most welcome surprise.  
                “Aye, I knew you couldn’t stay away long, girl,” Adaoire purred in her ear, nestling his lips against her neck.
                She admitted that she could not remain apart from the farmer for any increased length of time. She hung around his neck and resigned herself to his care for the evening, revealing that her father was away for the night on business in Barellynn and therefore giving her the opportunity she needed to escape from the small Mandidoun estate to see the one who was willing to obliged her rampant perversity. She made profuse apologies for not coming sooner but she had been forced to wait for a time when liberation from her father’s watches auspices was available to her. She had been under guard since the wedding and her ever pining sigh for the vulgar farmer and his uneducated wiles tempted her to escape, but this would not do for her father. She was the daughter of a Sir, and though she was not bequeathed the title of a lady, being the heiress of their families small assets was enough to have her father shield her from the tender gropings of a mere farmer. She was induced to forget about him, as was prudent for any member of the gentry who had her innocence taken by one decidedly lower than herself, but she could not with any tolerable form. The manner in which he had taken her so avidly bore an imprint on her young mind. A creature so different from the cold politeness of nobles, so vile and yet so forbearing of her tastes could not be left to history. She was compelled to feign her forgetfulness if she wished to ever see him again. The prospect came and she took it immediately, stealing a servant for a coachman and borrowing her father’s smaller carriage to hasten from Varralla to Tyferrim. She had asked one shabby-looking fellow along the road the way to the Donnegal farmstead and here she was, ready to resign herself to the care of her farmer for the remainder of the evening.  
                Adaoire called to the servant to bring the carriage beside the barn so the horses may find rest near the water trough. He drew his woman up and held her small waist as he flew her about in circles. He perceived how well she appeared and the genuine feeling of cheerful gratitude she exuded. “Come have a supper with my brother and my Ma,” he said, taking her by the hand. “Sure, she’ll be glad to have another girl at the table.” He led her toward the house, but as they walked up the path to the front door, he felt her pull back. He turned to see her regressing in mild horror and agitation. He assured her there was nothing to fear from a house where only farmers had lived but even the forthcoming look of the house and the warmth of those within could not convince her. He asked why she should be so afraid to enter when she had come expecting acceptance, but his entreaties were met with looks of silent trepidation. He sat with her on the front steps, scooping her into his lap, and set to the task of soothing her apprehensions with fond osculations along the underside of her maw while stroking the length of her brown hair.
                She excused her trepidations, attributing them to her ignorance of how to conduct herself with prudence when her visit was meant to be a clandestine venture. She did not wish for others to know of her visit even if the only others in the vicinity were a brother, a mother, a servant who had had been sworn into silence lest he be dismissed from her family’s employ, and a few animals too occupied with eating to care about the affairs of their owners.
                Adaoire promised he would tell no one of her coming and was obliged to dismiss her nervousness to being discovered yet he could not help but feel that there was something she would not reveal to him. His hand slipped across her abdomen to check his brother’s earlier assertion but he felt no difference from when he had last had his hands upon her. “You got nothin’ to worry about, girl,” he said quietly, rubbing her thighs through her evening gown. “My brother and my Ma don’t bite. Well, my Ma might yell at you for not washin’ your hands before comin’ to the table but she’s harmless sure enough.”
                Ms Mandidoun laughed but confessed that she was uncomfortable with meeting his parents while she was being an errant child herself. She was told that the father had passed away a few years past and that there was little interaction to be expected between the other Donnegal children, excepting Sheamas, Aiden and Martje. Upon hearing of his having a sister, she was pressed to ask what Martje was like but the answer she received was rife with bias dislike. She did her utmost not to laugh at Adaoire calling his sister a fat and chatty bint. Her giggles were subdued, however, when Adaoire suddenly stood while carrying her in his arms.
                “You just come with me, girl,” he said with affectionate firmness. “I’ll show you my land and I’ll tell you all about my family.” He encouraged her to place her arms around his neck and he carried her off through the fields of long grass as the lights of the stars began to pique in the skies over the kingdom’s countryside.