FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A Beautiful Morning

Chapter 6

It was a beautiful morning. Evelyn smiled: it was always a beautiful morning whenever Daisy spent a beautiful night with her. She awoke that morning naked and alone, the sunlight streaming over the white sheets of her bed, her white curls a rumpled mess in her face. She washed at her washbasin and donned her green floral robe, which hung translucent over her chemise. Daisy would return soon with her tea, and she would sit in the bay window as she always did, drinking it as Daisy recited her schedule for the day. It would be a perfect start to another perfect day.

But Daisy didn't come.

Evelyn hugged herself and went to the window, leaning against the drawn curtain as she looked out over the grounds. Down below, the gardener was already seeing to the rose bushes and flowers, trimming the hedge, and raking the leaves. One of the servants had a teenage girl named Hadly who loved to follow him about. The gardener was no old dog, after all. Mr. Cummings was a golden Basque Shepherd, handsome, young, and fit. After last night's discussion, it was now Evelyn's suspicion that Charles had hired him on as eye candy.

"Your tea, miss," creaked Nana's elderly voice.

Evelyn turned and was surprised to see the head maid entering her room with a tray. On the tray gleamed a silver teapot with a teacup and a jar of honey. Dressed as usual in her tidy blue dress and apron, Nana set the tea on the round table and poured, her expression solemn and aloof. The old Pointer was still angry about the night before.

Evelyn came to the table and carefully sat, adjusting her robe around her cleavage. "Where's Daisy, Nana? Usually she --"

"Daisy resigned," Nana said shortly. She added honey to Evelyn's cup and stirred it briskly, her long snout wrinkling up as she refused to look at her.

Evelyn sat flabbergasted. "Resigned? Resigned why? Nana!" When the old Pointer still wouldn't look at her, Evelyn grabbed her wrist. "For god's sake, why?"

Evelyn and Daisy had spent the night before making love. Sweet kisses. Whispers. Sighs. Daisy had even told Evelyn that she loved her, and for the first time since her father died, she thought she would be alright. She thought that perhaps she could go through with the marriage so long as Daisy was beside her. And now this?

Nana looked at the duchess sympathetically, and she seemed to forget for a moment that Evelyn had hurt her feelings the night before. Evelyn let go of Nana, and the old maid set the honey down, straightened up, and folded her paws over her apron. "I can't be the one to answer that," she said at last. "A carriage is down waiting for the girl, deary. Said she wanted to go back to her father. Back to being a tailor's daughter, can you believe it? You'd best hurry if you wish to catch her."

Evelyn didn't need telling twice. She rose at once, nearly upsetting the table as she swept from the room. She was in nothing but her chemise and robe as she hurried through the manor and wasn't surprised when shocked servants halted to gawk at her. Robe flying open, she ran up the drive with her heart thundering in her ears, her white curls whipping back, her throat tight with fear. She could see the carriage at the end of the drive. She could see Daisy getting into it.

"Daisy!"

The young girl lifted her head and looked back. She was dressed in a simple dark blue gown over which a darker mantelet was tied. A matching bonnet was tied over the fluffy white mane that fell to the small of her back. Her eyes clouded to see her mistress flying to her and she ducked her head meekly.

"Mistress," Daisy squeaked, blushing bright as an apple, "you're in not but your knickers --!"

"Why did you resign?" Evelyn said over her. She halted, breathless and tousled. The driver was staring with beady eyes at her heaving cleavage. She ignored him. "Why?" She tossed a paw. "And without so much as a word? A goodbye? Was I unkind? Was Charles? I can raise your pay --"

"Mistress," Daisy said fondly and gave the taller female a sad smile. "You were p-perfect." Her voice broke and she bit her lip. "Too perfect."

Evelyn frowned. She took Daisy's small paw and rubbed it. "Then stay here. With me."

Daisy's long lashes fanned down and she shook her head. "Don't ask me, Mistress. I'll say yes. And I'll go back into that castle of yours and live wretchedly ever after."

"I don't understand." Evelyn stared at Daisy with wet eyes. "I need you --"

"I c-can't --!" Daisy said over her and halted, looking at her with a trembling lip. "I can't stand by and watch you marry the marquis. I can't help you birth his pups. I c-can't . . . don't ask me!" She snatched her paw free and climbed hastily into the carriage.

The driver snapped the reins and the horses started off.

"Don't!" Evelyn growled at the driver. "Don't you drive away!" she screamed as the carriage rolled along the dirt road. She ran after it and fell, the sudden cloud of dirt choking her even as her tears did. She knelt in the dirt, her robe hanging off her shoulder, watching with dull eyes as the carriage disappeared beyond the hill, watching as Daisy rode away into that beautiful morning . . . with her heart.

"Guess you'll have to find a new tailor," Charles said behind her.

Evelyn scowled but allowed her brother to help her to her feet. She tried to march past him but he caught her arms, and after a brief struggle, pulled her into his embrace. She sobbed with abandon as he stroked her long white mane.

"There, there, darling," Charles whispered sadly. He kissed Evelyn on the head and rubbed her back. "Perhaps it's for the best. Daisy always did a terrible job of it ironing my shirts."

"Oh, yes, laugh about it," Evelyn said, pulling back. But her lips twitched with the hint of a smile as Charles pulled his kerchief and dabbed her tears away. Unlike her, he was already dressed for the day. His personal maid was a young girl named Sarah who dressed him each morning and served him strong coffee. Evelyn thought her brother looked quite handsome in his dark cropped riding coat, complete with gray breeches tucked into turned down boots. His white mane was slicked back in a tail, though a pale curl fell in the twinkling eyes behind his spectacles. He was the epitome of propriety, soft-spoken and polite, offering his arm with a smile.

"It's the best medicine," he replied as Evelyn took his arm. "The other being a nice glass of champagne. Come on then." He jerked his head at the manor behind them.

Evelyn realized for the first time that the gatekeeper was standing outside the gatehouse, hunched in his simple attire, waiting for the royal siblings to return up the drive. He smiled politely at Evelyn and averted his eyes, and she suddenly remembered she was indecent. She swallowed hard and closed her robe, allowing Charles to lead her away.

Evelyn was glad when Dick did not turn up at breakfast. As they sat at the long dining table together, Charles explained that the marquis was in bed nursing a hangover.

"I shouldn't wonder," Evelyn said in disgust. She picked at her eggs, thinking with a sinking heart that Richard was the male she was going to marry. Drunken, misogynistic Richard. Perhaps the worst thing of all was that her father had wanted it.

Most of Evelyn's day would have been spent in court, presiding with her brother over the spats of the peasants and nobles alike. But Charles insisted that Evelyn retire to her bedchamber and take the day for herself. He presided over court without her, and she knew he was loath to do so: the nobles would be gossiping for weeks that Evelyn had been sick with such and such. Perhaps they'd start a rumor that she was pregnant. But for the first time in their lives, Charles didn't seem to care what anyone said. He only seemed to care that his sister was hurting.

"Poor Charles," Evelyn said, looking at her miserable reflection in her mirror. "Always cleaning up my messes . . ."

The mirror was taller than Evelyn, elegantly carved of white wood in the shape of roses curling around the glass. She tilted the mirror back, inspecting the lines under her eyes. Her eyes were still red from crying. She had spent the day thinking of Daisy and her pending marriage to the marquis. She thought about running away to find Daisy, and then perhaps they'd run away together. But to where? Evelyn was famous for her beauty and good breeding and was the desire of princes and dukes . . . and even kings. It would be a difficult thing indeed to hide her identity. And there wasn't a lowlife alive who wouldn't take her hostage in the hope of a royal reward.

Wretched in her filthy chemise and robe, Evelyn went to the window and looked out. Dusk had fallen, sweeping purple and gold over the sky as the first stars winked into existence. Beyond the slanted rooftops of the estate, she could see the red forest. Something in her heart always soared to look at it. CrinningtonForest. It was calling to her.

Evelyn went still as heavy steps thumped across the carpet. Her lip curled and she said without turning, "Get out, Dick."

The marquis laughed. "How ever did you know?"

"The smell of liquor ever precedes you," Evelyn said without turning.

Dick chuckled. He drew near, and his big paw squeezed hard on her breast. She cried out and tried to smack his paw away. She was surprised when he held on, growling in her ear for her to be still. He cursed when she spun around and slapped him hard across the face.

"I said get out," she hissed through her fangs.

Dick staggered back, rubbing his cheek, staring at her in shock. His eyes watered with tears, and she thought he looked like an abashed child. His red mane was tousled in his eyes and he was sloppily dressed in his riding coat and tight breeches.

"Do I look like one of the servants?" Evelyn demanded and shoved Dick in the chest.

He staggered back into a table, the same hurt in his eyes. "E-Evie --"

"Do I look like Sarah?" Evelyn went on, unaware that her robe had fallen open, that the strap of her chemise had fallen over her shoulder. Her eyes were lit like flames and her white curls tumbled around them beautifully.

Dick shook his head. "No, you look bloody magnificent," he said and leapt at her.

Evelyn's cries were muffled when Dick forced his tongue in her mouth. His paws were everywhere, groping, massaging. He pushed her chemise up her thighs and lifted her, squeezing her backside in fistfuls as he carried her to the bed. She fought him all the way, twisting against him and pulling his mane. He laid her on the bed, and as her mass of curls spread around her, she slapped him again. He took the blow with a wince and grabbed her wrists, pinning them down. She twisted until her breasts flapped. He caught the strap of her chemise in his teeth and tore it. Her breasts bounced free, large and supple, the pink nipples erect and high. He paused to stare at them, and she saw his phallus harden, pressing up through his trousers.

"Good god," he moaned. "No, you don't look like one of the servants. You actually have tits."

"Get off me," Evelyn warned.

"I know why you've been up here sulking," Dick said with a smirk. "That girl of yours left today - what was her name? Donna something?"

"Shut up! And get off me!" Evelyn bucked.

Dick fought to hold her down and his fangs flashed. "Be still, bitch! All you need is a male to give you a proper go. You'll never think of Donna again - ah!"

Evelyn kneed Dick right in his erection. He sank away to the floor, sobbing with pain. Breathless and angry, she sat up and clutched her torn chemise shut, glaring at her cousin through narrowed eyes.

"I was going to grit my teeth and marry you," Evelyn said into the silence. "Now I think I'd rather have them pulled. All of them. One by one."

Curled up and clutching his malehood, Dick glared at her through the tendrils of his mussed mane. "D'you have any idea how wealthy I am?" he panted. "And you're going to throw it away for what? Your fascination with bitches! I would have let you carry on with any female you wanted, Evie. I would have --"

"Shut up!" Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut. She leapt to her feet and flew to her armoire. It was bursting with dresses, gowns, and heeled slippers, but she kept riding clothes hidden at the bottom of it. She stripped as fast as she could and pulled the male attire on.

"Where the hell," Dick demanded, dragging himself up, "d'you think you're going, bitch? You're _going_to be my wife. You might as well get used --"

Evelyn backslapped Dick as she passed toward the bed, where she ripped the sheet off and started twisting it into a rope. The marquis collapsed to the floor from the blow, and she could hear him slurring and cursing as she fed the bed sheet out the window and climbed down it.

For the last time.