Kill The President's Women (Joe The Magic Man Series Book 2) (27 page)

Johnny waited as the couple looked at each other for a moment with flickers of doubt passing from face to face.

Finally, Steve-e-Joe answered him. “Well the trouble is… we’re hoping to join up with my friend when the war is over.” He looked to Jean for help, not to disappoint Johnny too much, because Johnny had become like an uncle to them both. “My friend joined Lord Davenport’s regiment a couple of days before us.”

“I think you should tell Uncle Johnny about our friend, Joe Wiggins.” Jean said to Steve-e-Joe. “I think we can trust him to keep it a secret.” Steve-e-Joe nodded back to her. “Anyway I’m late,” she continued, “I don’t want Meg shouting at me again. You can tell Uncle Johnny all about our friend and the accident. I’m off.”

As Jean went about her cooking, chattering away with the others wives, she kept thinking what it would be like to live in a village cottage with Johnny pretending to be her uncle, and coming over to visit her as an excuse for a quick shag.

Her thoughts were broken when one of the women said, “Well, what have we got coming here, girls.” She pointed with a nod of her head. “And if he’s free, don’t forget I saw him first.”

Jean raised her head to see a handsome gentleman riding a well-groomed black horse out of the thick mist, and approaching them with a smile.

“You can have him first,” joked Meg, “as long as I can have him after you. That’s money riding that horse and I’ve got a good nose for money.”

Jean had been told by Johnny that when they get to Redditch, there would be a few more lords up here from the midlands with their small armies. He had warned that if any of the lords saw Jean, they’d do their best to get her to their bed. Johnny had told her to keep to herself, cover her face and hide away if possible. Jean didn’t cover up as she stared at the stranger; she had never seen anyone dressed so smartly. He wore dark green breeches, tucked into knee-length light brown buckskin boots. A light green jacket with puffed up sleeves exaggerating his biceps adorned his torso with six little toggles. He had a dark green hat that came down in a point at the front and back, with a light green feather sticking out of the hat.

“Morning ladies,” he said, stopping by and tipping his hat. “Is that lamb broth I smell?”

“Morning sir,” Meg said and stepped forward. “You might call it lamb broth. Last night we called it lamb stew and this morning we are calling it lamb soup. If you would like some, I’m sure Jean here could warm a bowl up for you.” Meg went and put her arm around Jean when she noticed how the stranger looked at Jean. “Or is there anything else you’d like Jean and me to warm?”

“Ha, what an offer,” he said, laughed politely. “I’m just looking for Lord Bedford’s tent?”

“That’ll be his tent over there.” Meg pointed over her shoulder without taking her eyes of him. ”Would you like us to bring you a bowl over?”

Jean had never seen anyone with teeth as white. He smiled beautifully and the smile was directed at her. He stroked his goatee slowly as if he was thinking about it.

“Umm, sorry ladies but I have business with Lord Bedford.” He tipped his hat again. “I bid you good morning.”

They watched him ride by and Jean said, “He talked a little funny, didn’t he?”

“The best looking man I’ve seen in years.” Meg said. She suddenly registered what Jean had said and then turned to stare at her. “He was looking you over and talking to your tits, possibly wondering how to get you into his bed, and all you can say is, ‘He talked funny’?”

“Well… “

“He’s got a lovely Welsh accent,” one of the wives said. “He can talk me to sleep any night.”

They all had a laugh and talked about the stranger, a
s they went about their chores until Lord Bedford’s sergeant came up to Jean.

“Are you Mrs. Jean Bateman?”

“Yes, I’m Mrs. Bateman,” Jean replied, heart in mouth.

“Come with me at once. Lord Bedford wants a word with you.”

Jean wiped her hands and followed him the short distance to the Lord Bedford’s large tent. The sergeant stopped a few yards short of the tent and nodded for her to go on in. Jean was still wearing her work apron and she tugged nervously at one of the corners as she pushed the flaps aside and walked in timidly.

The man her eyes saw was the handsome stranger in the green attire and with the Welsh accent.

She was more than a little surprised. “Oh, where is Lord Bedford?” she asked.

He smiled his pretty smile.

As she looked around the tent, she saw that both of them they were the only people there. She had to ask again, “I’m sorry your Lordship, but I was told Lord Bedford wanted to see me?”

“That’s what I told the sergeant to say. It keeps the old wives guessing and talking.” His white teeth gleamed as he spoke. “Come here, Jean.”

Jean’s heart began to pound; she had an idea what he wanted but it seemed too early in the morning to be shagging or even thinking about it. She wondered how this stranger had known her name, her full name!

“Where’s his Lordship?” Jean asked nervously as she took a tiny step towards him.

“Major Bedford has got a lot to tend to and he’s let me have the use of his tent so I could talk to you.”

“Major Bedford?” Jean had never heard him called that before. She took another step towards where he sat in a chair by a desk with a few documents and what she could only guess were writing materials for she had never seen anything like them before.

“Yes, Major Bedford.” He stood up and came to stand in front of Jean. He caught her chin and lifted her face up to him. “In your town back home, they may call him ‘his Lordship’, but he is also a Major in King Henry’s army.” He looked into her eyes and smiled at her. “You’ve even got beautiful eyes.”

Jean had that weak feeling come over her again, and she knew she was blushing a bright red at the moment.

“Why, thank you, my Lord,” she stammered.

“Ha, I’m no Lord.” he laughed, “I’m Captain Jack Morgan and I’m here to offer Major Bedford the service of my band of Welsh archers. King Henry has asked me and my hundred best archers, to join the Major here and march with him up to York.”

“Captain Morgan?” Jean’s mind spun furiously as she took it in. The name “Morgan” sounded beautiful and it reminded her of old man Morgan that had gone crop picking with Steve-e-Joe. She wondered why Johnny hadn’t told her they were meeting up with a band of archers from Wales but it didn’t matter. She could never have anticipated meeting a man like Captain Jack Morgan, so tall, so handsome. Young too, he couldn’t be more than 30.

“Are you an archer?” What she really wanted to know was if his dad was the man who picked crops with Steve-e-Joe.

“I can shoot a bow as well as most,” he replied, “but I have the best marksmen in the world.” There was a resounding pride in his voice. “They can shoot arrows more accurately than any other army can match but… I didn’t ask you here to talk about my men.”

Jean swallowed hard as she became aware of his eyes on her bust. “You didn’t?” She had to listen hard to hear everything he said, with his strange accent and rich, deep voice that seemed to recite his words like poetry or some form of music. He went behind her, brushed her hair off her shoulders and kissed her neck.

Jean felt goose bumps break out all over her skin. “Please sir,” she pulled her head away slightly, “I don’t know what you want?”

“What if I was to tell you that I was speaking with your friend, Sergeant Morris last night?” He saw the shock go through her body as she tensed up, “Sergeant Morris came up with the advance party and he joined me for a drink. He told me all about you and your Uncle Johnny and that your husband loved having you play the game, the Kings Messenger.”

Jean was embarrassed and every nice sensation she had felt in the presence of the tempting Captain dissipated quickly. She didn’t turn around to face him but stared angrily at the back of the tent as tears built up in her eyes.

She said, “Sergeant Morris is not a friend of mine if he can’t keep a secret. My husband let him share our tent and this is how he repays us.”

“What can I say, I’m glad he told me about you and your husband, but I’m sure I would have spotted your beauty without him telling me your story.” He kissed her neck again.

Jean wished the kiss would have no effect on her but she promptly began having difficulty breathing. His hands went from her neck across her shoulders and down her bare arms to her elbows and back. It was extremely arousing because his touch was as light as butterflies. Jean knew the next stop for his hands would be her bust and she waited. She was really upset with Morris but the captain was a good looking man and she was enjoying his attention. I hope Sergeant Morris gets all the shit jobs.” The captain kissed her shoulder, gently caught hold of her breasts and lifted them gently. “I hope I never see him again.”

Jean hoped he didn’t notice the quiver in her voice. She wondered if she should act offended, turn around and slap him across the face for touching her breasts but a little voice in her head told her,
He’s just playing games with you, besides you’re enjoying it, aren’t you?

“I’ll do my best to make sure Sergeant Morris is in charge of cleaning the mess up in the fields that we leave behind us.” He came and stood in front of her, kissed her on the lips and carried on massaging her tits. “I’ve got to tell you that I was fascinated with how your husband hired Sergeant Brown to protect you, and how understanding your husband is. You are a very lucky girl to have a husband that’s not jealous of other men making love to you.” He kissed her before she could say anything.

Jean was enjoying it. She felt like throwing her arms around his neck, kissing him and dragging him down on the floor. She wanted to place her hand on his cock and she wished that it was nothing like Captain Sinclair’s.

“I admire your husband so much that I’ve asked the Major if I could have him as my squire.”

Jean’s eyes shot open and she took an involuntary step back. “You can’t take my husband away from Lord Bedford’s regiment.”
Captain Morgan stepped forward to meet her and kiss her hard. “It’s alright, my band of men are part of Major Bedford’s regiment, so you will see a lot of your husband. Or you can come with him and help my cook out; he’s always moaning he hasn’t got enough help.”

Jean thought about his offer as his hand somehow found its way under her blouse and began fondling her bare breasts
. “You want both of us to be caught?” she asked him.

“I want to be your protector just like Sergeant Brown. And back home in Wales, we play a game much like the ‘King’s Messenger’ but it’s not for Lords and Ladies. It’s more for the men of the valleys and a farm girl. It’s called ‘Salmon Jumping’: the woman doesn’t change horses, she changes fish. Your husband can pick the fish and how many.” He kissed her again before she could speak. “Sergeant Morris was right about your lovely, firm tits.”

Jean didn’t know what to make of the situation; she didn’t like him talking about Morris but he kept on so she had to put up with it. She blushed at the thought of the Captain telling Steve-e-Joe about salmon jumping. How many would he pick, seeing as he had more than a hundred men to choose from.

Captain Morgan pulled away from her and sat back down. Jean stared at him; maybe this was the end, maybe he had satisfied his curiosity.

“Would you like to come work for me?”

Jean nodded and asked, “Will me and Steve-e-Joe have our own tent?”

“Yes, your tent will be right next to mine.” She nodded again and he was pleased. “Good, Morris said you’ve got the loveliest ass he’s ever seen and kissed, just perfect: nice and round but not too big.” He smiled at her. “I’d like to see if he was telling me the truth.”

Jean hoped Morris hadn’t said anything about shoving his finger up there or surely, that would be the next thing.

“Turn around for me, Jean and lift your skirt up for me to see that perfect ass.”

Jean did what he asked and she hoped it didn’t seem like she was doing it as some form of payment for being allowed to work with her husband. She lifted her skirt right over her hips, showing everything. He placed his hand on her hips and stroked her bottom giving it a little squeeze. He kissed both cheeks and for the umpteenth time, Jean wondered what it was about her ass that men liked so much.

“Yes, you got a lovely ass, the kind a man would want to cuddle up to on a cold night.”

He studied it carefully, almost academically, for a while then finally he asked her to turn round.

“Morris said you had lovely strong legs and a lovely big bush for a girl so young.”

Jean cursed the apron she had on; she didn’t wait to be asked to lift her skirt and apron to show her legs, she did it and stood with her legs slightly apart. Jean didn’t like the “big bush” part – somehow it didn’t sound very nice. He held his arms out for her to step forward and she did. He kissed her belly and then her thighs. Jean watched him shove two fingers into his mouth and then shove them inside her. She gave a moan that seemed to please the captain.

“Oh yes, your tent is going to be next to mine.” Captain Morgan said, as his eyes took in her beauty, youth and willingness. He had been expecting a slap and a mouthful of foul language from her but she bit her tongue and did his bidding.

Jean
held her skirt up as high as she could, showing him as much as she could. She was glad when she noticed how much pleasure he was having from it. He stood up and started to untie his breeches; Jean stared at the bulge, hoping this tall, handsome stranger had a big cock so he’d be part of her adventure. A small cock would be a huge disappointment. Out came a lovely big cock, not as big as Uncle Johnny’s but just like Steve-e-Joe’s. She thought they looked exactly same. In fact, if you could have twin cocks then this would be Steve-e-Joe’s cock’s twin. Jean kept her skirt up and smiled at the captain.

“Well then Jean, there’s only one thing left to do before you and your husband come work for me.” He noticed Jean’s smile grow wider. “I want you to bend over the table and let me give you a seal of approval.”

Jean turned around slowly and strutted the few steps to the table, wiggling her full hips. She bent over and without being asked, she spread her legs. Her heart was beating like a drum and she hoped the sergeant outside wouldn’t run in, saying Lord Bedford was back. She felt him lift her skirt right up over her back, his hands went over her hips and he kneaded her bottom, still admiring it. He came closer and she closed her eyes tight as she felt him rubbing his cock into place. After a little teasing, he eased himself forward and entered her slowly. Jean had to let out her breath in a big sigh that she had been holding back.