"Dear Genevieve, we cannot be intimate here, we will be seen," he whispered, before turning to unsaddle Prince. "Please Malcolm, I want you so much, will you come and pleasure me later," she asked, smiling at her lover. "Of course, my sweet lady, how can I refuse such a request," responded Malcolm. Stand and Deliver - Part 4 by Alys

The story so far:- Genevieve, Lady Osborne, has held up the stagecoach of Lord Parsimon and arranged for the money that she has taken from him, that the greedy Lord has squeezed out of his tenants, to be used to supply the Lordship's tenants with enough food and other supplies to survive the winter. Meanwhile Lord Parsimon has been retelling Genevieve's hold up as an attack by a large party of brigands.

=======================================================================

"Gentlemen, on my signal, walk the required ten paces, turn and discharge your pistols," said Lord Parsimon to the two men standing back to back in the forest clearing.

It was a cold Autumn morning, the day after the dinner at Lord Hamilton's mansion and the chill of the damp morning was penetrating through the thick coats and overcoats worn by the dozen or so participants to the event.

Lord Parsimon dropped a white glove and the two duellists, Lord Harold Vorace and Captain Vincent Stanley walked away from each other. It was immediately obvious that Lord Vorace's understanding of the meaning of ten paces was different to that of his opponent as he clearly marked out his distance with greater urgency.

He turned and raised his pistol and stood waiting in a balanced shooting stance. Captain Stanley completed his paces and turned to face his challenger. Before the honest Captain could raise his pistol his less than honourable opponent had fired. The noise of the explosion echoed though the quiet woods, scattering the birds nestling in the branches, as clouds of smoke spread through the clearing.

Lord Vorace looked on in satisfaction as Captain Stanley clutched his face and fell to the ground screaming his agony after the particles of lead shot penetrated his face and eyes.

"Vincent!" screamed Joanne, Captain Stanley's wife, from the shelter of a large oak tree, on the perimeter of the open space, where she had concealed herself to observe the duel. She ran forward to aid her husband's second, Thomas Morris, as he attempted to staunch the blood flow.

"Lord Vorace," bellowed Lord Parsimon," is your honour satisfied?"

"It is indeed, Lord Parsimon," replied the cheating duellist, " although I trust that you will seek recompense from my opponent this morning for his flagrant breach of the code by allowing a woman to join our company"

"Indeed, Lord Vorace," responded, the supposedly neutral, Lord Parsimon," I will seek a suitable payment from Captain Stanley"

The slap of Joanne's hand across Lord Vorace's face was almost as loud as the earlier pistol shot and caused the aerial life to once again fly away. She was set upon by the lordship's seconds and dragged away.

"You scoundrel, you blaggard!" she screamed at her husband's cowardly opponent, having run over after seeing the extent of his injuries, caused by the use of the illegal load in Lord Vorace's pistol.

"Madam! You will desist from your insults and apologise to his Lordship at once," shouted Lord Parsimon," or I will have you taken away"

"Please, your Lordship, let me apologise on my wife's behalf," said Vincent, weakly, as he stood supported by his second.," please Joanne, come away, you will only make matters worse"

Lord Parsimon signalled to Lord Vorace's men to release the distraught, angry woman and then followed the dishonourable duellist who had already retreated to the safety of his carriage.

"Well Reginald," said Lord Vorace to Lord Parsimon," that was, on the whole, a very worthwhile morning's entertainment"

"Yes, I enjoyed it immensely Harold," replied Lord Parsimon," even the silly trollop slapping you was amusing"

Lord Vorace rubbed the bruise on his cheek.

"The only negative feature, but nonetheless a profitable occasion. There may even be an opening for an officer to replace the unfortunate Captain in the yeomanry" said Lord Vorace, shaking the purse he had 'won' from the previous evening's dinner at Lord Hamilton's mansion and offering his companion his hip-flask full of rum.

"Yes," responded Lord Parsimon, with an ugly laugh, " that stupid fool Stanley won't be able to make allegations against one of us again, of cheating at cards, without his eyesight!"

As the two lordships celebrated the duelling success, in the carriage slowly making its way along the rutted forest road, Captain Stanley was helped onto his horse and led away.

At the top of a nearby hill Genevieve put away the small telescope that she had been using to observe the scene below. She pondered her course of action. It would be very dangerous to stop the carriage in broad daylight. She looked around the surrounding countryside to see if there might be a place with some cover that might make her actions slightly less risky.

Seeing none she was about to turn away to return to her lodge when she felt a few drops of moisture on her face. She looked up at the clouds and noticed that there was a band of rain sweeping towards her. She smiled and quickly directed Prince, her faithful steed, down the slope.

"This is a fine drop of rum," said Lord Parsimon a little inebriated after a number of mouthfuls from the hip-flask.

"Yes," responded Lord Vorace, almost as intoxicated as his corpulent companion," it's a barrel that has..........hey what's that!"

Both the drunken lordships were almost thrown to the floor as the coach came to a sudden stop. Lord Vorace put his head out of the window to give his driver a dressing down for causing him so much discomfort.

Before he could shout at his unfortunate employee a pistol was thrust in his face. His followed the arm, holding the weapon, to the masked face and rested on the waistcoat barely restraining the bosom of the female outlaw. His face went white as he realised his predicament.

"Not so brave now, are we your Lordship, shall I give you what you deserve, a facefull of powder and a bullet?" said Genevieve angrily.

"Please, madam, I am at my disadvantage, what do you want?" Lord Vorace spluttered.

"I will relieve you of the money you have gained dishonestly and find a better, illegal use for it," stated Genevieve firmly," and I will take the purse of your disagreeable companion at the same time. Good morning Lord Parsimon, it is my displeasure to come across you again"

"Here, Harold give her my purse, and yours too, and quick about it, this woman is a devil she will take our lives on a whim if she chooses," blabbered Lord Parsimon," and remember her companions waiting in the woods"

Lord Vorace handed over the money to Genevieve.

"I wish you a bad day then Gentlemen, hoping that it doesn't improve, although before that you have a choice to make," she said a little teasingly.

"What is that?" asked Lord Vorace, beginning to sober a little and thinking of an immediate riposte.

"You can either sit in your stationary coach or you can move your precious bodies and untie your driver," Genevieve answered, laughing, as she turned Prince and galloped away congratulating herself on her stratagem of throwing a rope around the driver to bring the coach to a halt.

The sound of the rifle discharging and the feeling of a sudden, sharp pain in her shoulder merged into one unpleasant sensation. She jolted forward in her saddle, nearly falling off, grabbing the rains to steady herself and almost bringing Prince to a painful stop. She reached up to her shoulder and felt the new stickiness there.

Back in the carriage Lord Verace noted the effect of his rifle shot hitting the masked outlaw with satisfaction. He was pleased that the woman would pay for her impudence. He hoped that he had mortally wounded her, although he doubted it at such a distance. He turned to where the driver was normally sitting.

"Come on man, move this carriage now!" he shouted.

There was a muffled response. Lord Vorace stepped out to ascertain the reason for the non response of his employee then, remembering the masked outlaw's reference, he made his way forward to release his hapless servant.

Genevieve slipped off her horse on reaching the shelter of some trees and, after tying up Prince, pulled her shirt down to see the extent of the damage. The top part of her clothes were sodden and red but to her relief she discovered that the ball from the rifle had luckily passed through the flesh between her neck and her shoulder leaving behind two clean wounds. She removed her tunic and ripped the arms of her shirt off to provide a rough dressing and then jumped back on her horse.

Two hours later, feeling exhausted and a little faint from her loss of blood she made it back to her lodge.

"Miss Genevieve, you are hurt," said Malcolm with a note of anxiety in his voice.

"It is only a flesh wound, Malcolm, it should be fine, will you put Prince away and then ask Bessie to make me up a bath?" she asked her faithful handyman.

"Of course Miss Genevieve, let me help you down," responded Malcolm.

Genevieve slipped off Prince, faster than she intended due to her tiredness, luckily her tall, black servant caught her expertly.

"Thank you, Malcolm, you are so strong and manly," Genevieve whispered.

The feel of his closeness overwhelmed her senses, already heightened by the danger she had been in earlier, and she put her arms around Malcolm's head and pulled him towards her, devouring his lips eagerly. He responded briefly and then pushed her away gently.

"Dear Genevieve, we cannot be intimate here, we will be seen," he whispered, before turning to unsaddle Prince.

"Please Malcolm, I want you so much, will you come and pleasure me later," she asked, smiling at her lover.

"Of course, my sweet lady, how can I refuse such a request," responded Malcolm.

Some hours later Genevieve was brushing her dark hair, after having bathed and eaten and having a clean dressing applied by Bessie. Apart from some soreness in the shoulder she felt remarkably well and pleased at the morning's encounter.

She heard a noise and turned to see Malcolm silhouetted in the door frame. He closed the door behind him and almost silently and gracefully moved over to stand behind her. She felt his hands gently caress her good shoulder and her back. She stood to face him and he moved his caresses to her face and then, slipping her gown off her shoulders so that she was naked, to her breasts. She pulled him over to her bed and he discarded his clothes on the way.

He kissed her gently and then used his lips and his tongue to excite her. He began with her her nipples, then after she was completely aroused there, he moved down her body, slowly kissing each part in turn. She was soon lost in her arousal as his tongue entered her vulva. Finally he took her small erect member in his mouth to push her closer to her climax. Too soon she was spurting inside his mouth. He swallowed her small amount of discharge and smiled at her.

"Ohh Malcolm, that was wonderful, now take me please," she gasped.

"Always my pleasure, my lovely lady," he replied.

Malcolm moved his body forward and slowly entered her moist channel. Genevieve was almost semiconscious with the pleasure of the penetration as Malcolm moved into a slow rhythm that soon gave her more wonderful sensations.

Genevieve stirred from her slumbers and immediately felt the emptiness of the absence of Malcolm from her bed. She heard some indistinct shouting from afar.

Suddenly the bedroom door burst open and Bessie stood there, out of breath after obviously having rushed from somewhere.

"Oh, Miss Genevieve you must flee, Lord Vorace is outside with a band of the yeomanry." she said in a great panic.