Date: Tue, 19 Jan 2016 14:39:19 -0500 From: Pete Bruno <farmboy7456@gmail.com> Subject: Noblesse Oblige Book 2 Chapter 2 This work fully protected under The United States Copyright Laws ? 17 USC?? 101, 102(a), 302(a). All Rights Reserved. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the Author's consent. (See full statement at the beginning of Chapter One.) Author's Note: Thanks to all of you who have written to tell how much you're enjoying the story, I hope you stay tuned. For all the readers enjoying the stories here at Nifty, remember that Nifty needs your donations to help them to provide these wonderful stories. How about sending them $5 Bucks, just think of it as buying a hot magazine! Noblesse Oblige By Henry H. Hilliard with Pete Bruno Book 2 An Indian Summer Chapter 2 At Bournemouth, Martin and Stephen found William's room crowded with important people. William and Sir Danvers were deep in conference and looked up when the boys entered. "Now, Sir Danvers, please explain to my brother and Mr Knight what these documents are," said William. "The first is a medical power of attorney, Lord Martin," said the solicitor, shuffling the papers. "You will have the power of your brother's affairs-the affairs of Croome itself and its finances-should your brother become too ill to manage his own affairs." "Let's be frank, Sir Danvers, not if but when. Is that clear to you Martin? Mr Knight?" interrupted William. The boys nodded. "The second document is his lordship's new will, which will be signed and witnessed today, which brings me to the third document. This is a statutory declaration from all the witnesses, including Viscount Delvees and the medical opinions of Dr Alexander and Sir Thomas Barlow," said Sir Danvers, indicating the baronet who was head of the Royal College of Physicians and who gave a small bow to Martin. "They will testify that Lord Branksome is capable of making these decisions." "So that the will can't be challenged because they say I'm insane," said William bluntly. Martin went quite pale and Stephen indicated a chair for his friend. The signatures were obtained with some ceremony, Sir Danvers carefully blotting each one. He then proceeded to read the late Marquess of Branksome's will, which contained no surprises; there were some bequests, but the bulk of the personal fortune passed to William who already had the estate and title entailed to him under the laws of primogeniture. Uncle Alfred and Martin would continue to receive allowances, Martin until he was of age when he could have access to the principal. They drank the new Marquess' health with sherry and the majority departed. "I'm not feeling well- just rather weak. Could you come back later this afternoon?" said William. The boys and Sir Danvers returned to the Royale Norfolk where they met the elegant and smiling Mr Sachs. The conversation was light hearted. Sachs talked of his love of yachting and how he was designing and building his own 'J class' racing yacht. This interested Stephen greatly and he asked for details, which were readily supplied. The other topic close to Sachs's heart was his new wife who was expecting their first child. Martin and Stephen exchanged glances of slight disappointment. They returned to Braemar and Lord Branksome was just arising, with the aid of a nurse, from his nap and looked a bit better. He smiled at his visitors and was introduced to Daniel Sachs, who turned to sit down allowing William to raise an eyebrow to the boys who suppressed the urge to giggle. Sir Danvers explained the possible use Sachs might be in putting the Croome on a sound financial footing. The Marquess nodded and then asked Sachs if he might leave them for a short time. Martin for a moment thought that William was planning some indecency with Sir Danvers involved, but quickly dismissed this as fanciful. When they were alone, William asked Sir Danvers about La Belle Otoro. There was little further news. She had probably received about one thousand pounds in money and jewellery-no more-and recovery was thought impossible as she had new and powerful protectors. No documents promising marriage were discovered and Sir Danvers was confident none existed. He went on to say that the insurance disbursement would be several thousand pounds and that there was still the possibility of legal action against the railways. "What should we do with the money, Martin?" asked William. "It should go into the estate, I suppose," he replied. "What do you think Stephen?" The others nodded for Stephen to have his say. "Yes, the majority should go into the estate, but I think a sum should be set aside for William-the injured valet," he reminded Sir Danvers. "It was William who saw to it that your grandmother's ring was secured and he alerted us to the position Lord Branksome had found himself in. His injuries are quite dreadful. It will be months before we will even know if he will walk." That was quickly agreed too. "I think that some memorial-some practical memorial-to your late father should be erected at Croome," continued Stephen. "You mean a statue or church window?" asked William. "Not quite, your lordship, I was thinking of something of more practical use to the people on his estate." "Such as?" "Well, your lordship, many of the cottages of your tenants are in urgent need of modernisation and I have been working on plans for installing bathrooms, as Lord Martin knows." Martin nodded, "They're awfully good, William, they have hot water pipes and weather vanes and everything." "Well, that's certainly unusual. What would Father have said if he knew he was going to be memorialised in plumbing? He never showed that much interest in modernisation-although he always bathed himself, I believe," laughed William. "Tell me about the bathrooms later, please Stephen. What's our financial position, roughly, Sir Danvers? Dire?" "No, your lordship, not dire. The estate is doing better than it was five years ago as grain prices have risen, but you can't continue rely on the doubtful rents from poor tenant farmers and old folk in cottages. There has to be modernisation and investment. You're over staffed. As to existing investments, they are mainly in safe but unprofitable stocks- railways and consols at 3% or less. I think we could do better. That's where Mr Sachs might help. The house is a big drain on finances." "We can't sell Croome!" cried Martin, almost I tears. "No one's going to sell our home," said William, comfortingly. "Could we make it less costly to run? "I don't know? What do you think Mr Knight?" asked Sir Danvers. "Maybe, I don't really know," replied Stephen. "Then there's Branksome House," continued Sir Danvers, "practically shut up for the last five years and Scotland." "Scotland?" questioned Stephen. "Yes," answered William, "we have a place in Scotland with excellent shooting and a salmon stream. We haven't been there for?for how long Martin? "I was about eight-well before mother died in any case." "And it is kept fully staffed?" asked Stephen incredulously. "Oh no, only about half a dozen household servants," said William. "We used to take people up from Croome when we had parties there. There are three farms that have good tenants too." He was lost in thought. "I always hated fucking Scotland," said William suddenly. Everyone turned to stare at him. "Ruddy cold and damp-especially in summer," he laughed. "We used to go there because Balmoral was nearby. And I'll die in Braemar! We'd better have the charming Mr Sachs back in," said William and he rang the bell. Sachs returned and sat down. The others looked at him expectantly. "What might you recommend to us, Mr Sachs, if you were to become their lordships advisor in money matters," said Sir Danvers. "Well, gentlemen," he began briskly, "I would do a review of your current stocks and shares and look at their returns, potential for growth and the risks." "I can tell you now, Mr Sachs, that my father put his faith in railway shares in the 1860's and never lost it," said William, "and there's some shipping and he clips coupons on consols." "He's also invested in a hotel being built in Cannes," added Martin. "I think railways are done for, gentlemen. Possibly shipping too. The government is already bailing out some of the shipping lines. Ships are easily sunk in wartime and railways are destroyed, although both are vital. However the materials to build them are always in demand and not so easily blown up. I had been working for the late Lord Mond. Did you know him- died just last year? Chemicals and dyes. Much in demand for fertilizer, soda, metals and almost everything else, including gunpowder. He was a Jew from the same part of Germany that my family fled, but he was one of your country's- our country's-greatest industrialists. There's the future. Oil too. The navy will be going over to oil, I believe, and there are more and more motors and trucks every day. Of course consols are reliable and safe, but the coupon is only at two-and-a-half percent, but I'd keep some for prudence. As to the Carlton Hotel in Cannes, Lord Martin, I think that is riskier, but it won't turn out to be a swindle. I've already examined it." They were impressed by this concise dissertation on modern finance. "Would you and Mrs Sachs be able to come down to Croome one weekend and take a look? My brother and Mr Knight could show you around, that is if it's before they return to school; that's soon isn't it?" "In less than two weeks, William," said Martin. "Yes, certainly. That is if you agree to my terms, which I've outlined to Sir Danvers. I could come next weekend, but my wife is with child and she may not feel up to the journey." They agreed and the brisk and efficient financier turned his elegant figure to the door, consulting his watch so as not to miss the next train and departed with his hat and stick having made a favourable impression. Sir Danver's also left for London and the three were alone. "There's one more matter," said William from his seat, "I want to adopt you, Stephen." The boys looked astounded and the colour drained from Stephen's face and he said: "But I already have a father-well, stepfather- and I don't think I want to be adopted, I'm too old, anyway, William." "That may be true, Stephen, it will be up to you. Let me explain. It was Viscount Delvees's idea and Sir Danver's thinks it would be prudent. "My godfather suggested it?" said Martin, shocked. "Yes," replied William, he and the Viscountess are really very fond of us-fond of you-and he has seen how you and Stephen are so fond of each other." "We love each other," they said to their surprise in unison. "Perhaps he sees that too. By giving Stephen some status in our non-existent family, you can be together with less?well, less suspicion." he continued. "And I think he has seen trouble in his own family. Apparently his grandson has been apprehended sucking-off someone in a second-class carriage and he's trying to hush it up. You must know him at school, young Featherstonhaugh." "Custard!" exclaimed Martin. "Yes that's the chap," said William and the boys exchanged amazed looks. "And Sir Danvers thinks there will be less trouble with my will." The boys now looked puzzled. "In my new will, signed just today, I am leaving a considerable amount of my private money-that not entailed to the estate-to Stephen when he reaches majority, which I doubt I'll live to see, and it will be harder for the will to be challenged if he is my son-or my 'ward' if you prefer that word. You will have to think about it before I put it into effect. I can't adopt you when you're older. You'll have to discuss it with your stepfather, of course. It's up to you." "I don't like to ask, Stephen, but what happened to your real father?" asked Martin, "I suppose his name wasn't Knight?" "That's all right, Mala, my mother and father were married, I have the certificate, but he died at Branksome-le-Bourne just before I was born, having come there as he must have known people, I assume, and later mother married Titus Knight. As far as I know, she was practically an orphan and I don't know anything about his family at all. His name was Molsom, mother referred to him as Mark and the certificate says his name is, Henry Markland Molsom and he was born in the United States but lived here, I think" "You're American?" "Well, half I suppose; mother was born in Cornwell." "I always imagined you might be half gypsy with your hair," said Martin, running his hand through Stephen's unruly locks." "I don't know, Mala, I don't feel like a gipsy and Molsom doesn't sound Romany, does it?" They sat in silence for several minutes. "Think about it Stephen, you can call yourself Poole, or Knight or Molsom or Featherstonhaugh. Whatever you like. I think Croome needs you, and my brother needs you. I might like to stipulate that you will only inherit if you stay with Martin, but that is impossible and I don't want to make the money a reason for people who don't love each other to stay with each other. I will just have to trust you and I'll be gone in any case." In the days following this meeting, Stephen was in a state of shock and clung to Martin, not letting him out of his sight. Martin feared that all this might be a step too far, but Stephen gradually relaxed and was able to tentatively discuss it with Martin. They were lying in bed, covered in sweat and each other's seed, but too comfortable and content to clean up when Marin said: "Remember when you said you'd like to marry me and we laughed because we couldn't. Do you think that by becoming my adopted brother-or is it nephew? -well, it might be the next best thing? I mean it's sort of a big step, just like marriage and it implies some sort of legal standing just like marriage; it is a commitment like marriage is. We can't be married, but this would be at least something. Will you be my brother, Derby?" "I will Mala- your elder brother or nephew, just give me time to work it out. It would be wonderful if life could be like this forever, but even if it's not, I still want to wake up next to you." Soon it was the weekend and Mr Sachs arrived quite early. It was already hot when they retired to the estate office, but Sachs remained focussed and didn't even remove his jacket when the boys did. He began by reviewing the investments. His suggestion was to gradually sell the railway shares and several others that he thought were 'not going anywhere' (which made the boys chuckle) and to cut the consols back to less than 20%. He recommended small holdings spread over a number of issues. There was Brunner Mond, and one in America called DuPont. "Chemicals and glass: there is a future in them." Then there was steel and heavy engineering. One of the companies was Tatchell's in Wareham. "But he stood against my father's candidate in the election and now we are helping him," wailed Martin. "He will be helping you, your lordship, as he is making many vital parts for the Navy and has contracts lined up for several years to come, although he is still in a small way. He will grow if he doesn't do anything foolish-perhaps it's best if he doesn't go into parliament," said Sachs, and Martin kept quiet. There was another American stock with an attractive name: 'Bethlehem Steel' and then 'Anglo-Persian Oil'. "Oil is the future, as I said the other day, your lordship, Mr Knight; I've cut right back on coal shares." "But I'm fond of the black pits," said Martin cheekily looking up at Stephen. "Well, I was just about to say that romance has no part in business milord, when I remembered Tidewater Oil. I first bought that stock because of its name and it's proved to be a good one so we should acquire a small stake. Then there are two banks and an insurance company-good steady stocks and we'll take nearly 20% in these." "What about electricity?" asked Stephen. "I don't know enough about how it will operate across the country, sir; it's rather confused at present. Perhaps electrical machinery companies would be good," ventured Sachs. "What about cattle ranching in Argentina and Australia?" asked Martin, thinking of chaps at school whose parents invested more exotically. "Depends too much on the vagaries of climate and markets for my taste, milord. I haven't investigated them and I would be leading you blind. That's not my way. I've suggested keeping the Carlton Hotel though." By lunchtime the boys were weary, but Sachs was still full of energy. They discussed the possibility of selling Scotland and Sachs was sure that rich Americans would be interested in buying it for the salmon fishing alone. "But what if we want salmon?" protested Martin. "There are always tins, your lordship," said Sachs making a joke for the first time and his beautiful sad brown eyes suddenly sparkled. "The money from Scotland and any surplus artworks at Croome for example, could be used to modernise the estate and," he conceded, "some could be used to maintain the other two houses." After lunch they returned to the estate office and Blake was brought in. Sachs admitted that farming was not his area, but seemed to suggest that the estate carried too many people. At this Martin grew hot and said that no one was to suffer if changes were made and Stephen, to his relief, joined him. Sachs backed down and suggested that they look at ways of gently modernising while providing employment and looking after the welfare of those concerned. "As I said at Bournemouth, milord, the estate has to be profitable if it is to help anyone," and once again Martin was forced to agree with this logic. They called a halt at 3pm when the heat was fierce, Sachs saying that he would tour the estate with Blake on Sunday. "Would you like to join us for swimming, Mr Sachs?" Stephen asked suddenly, "Martin and I have a favourite place." Sachs relaxed and smiled again. "That would be a treat, thank you Mr Knight." "Please call me Stephen," he said. "Thank you, Stephen, then." Not to be outdone Martin also asked him to call him by name and Sachs too became Daniel. The trap took them and a picnic tea down through the village to the secluded reach of the brook. In the shade, Stephen handed his costume to Daniel who looked at it in surprise. Stephen said: "I wore it in Cannes but not always then. There as here I like to swim without clothes, if you don't mind." "And so do I," chimed in Martin and started to strip before waiting for Daniel's answer. Daniel smiled and said, "Well, if you boys don't mind, I won't either," and with that put Stephen's splendid suit aside and started to take off his elegant clothes, which, like The Plunger, he folded carefully unlike the other two who merely ripped them off. When he was naked the boys stared at him unashamedly. He was very well built and fit. His chest was lightly dusted all over with dark hair, as were his thighs and arms. His cock was long and circumcised, and looked very similar to Martin's, thought Stephen, and he idly wondered if the taste was similar too. Daniel did not return their bold stares but merely smiled. They headed to the water, which felt icy after they had been so warm on the land. They swam, swung from the rope with wild yells and played the usual rough games that boys of fifteen and of twenty-five are apt to play in similar situations. When they dragged themselves from the water, exhausted, they lay in a patch of sun that the arch of the beech trees had spared. Stephen was getting hard and Daniel smiled at him. "I was the same at your age-always hard and I could never keep my hand of it, despite what the rabbi told us boys," he laughed. "Go on touch yourself if you want to, I won't tell the rabbi-better use two hands on that monster!" Stephen took a few strokes, looking down at himself and then turned towards him, "Did the rabbi stop you, Daniel?" "No." he laughed, "and I still like to pleasure myself, even though I'm a married man. My wife just laughs at me," he said. "I wager you don't do it as often as Stephen," said Martin who was hard and stroking himself. Stephen just grinned. "And you should see how far he can shoot." "I used to be pretty good myself," said Daniel and the contest was on. They presented different techniques and expressions of concentration and enjoyment. With their circumcised cocks Daniel and Martin took smaller strokes. Daniel, with his formerly immaculate hair now plastered down, liked to rub his nipples; Martin pulled at his bush and would have played with his hole had Daniel not been there. Stephen took long strokes, often with both hands, and thrust up with his hips. He would pause, rub the slit and play with his balls. Daniel came-off first and was pleased when he shot way up onto his chest, a pool forming in the valley there. He smiled, pleased with his effort. Next was Martin who shot as far as Daniel but in greater quantity with a pool on his chest forming a rivulet that found its way down his body to the grass and with another great mess matting his pubic bush. Last of all was Stephen who was putting in a real effort. The others turned to watch him with rapt attention. With a loud cry and a thrust of his hips he began to shoot but pinched the head of his cock. He then slowly let himself spill, the first shot arching into his hair and the second and third hitting his left eye and open mouth, the third forth and fifth shots were more conventionally onto his torso. He had surprised himself and he burst out laughing as he turned to the other two with open mouth and shining eyes. "I won't tell the rabbi, but I will tell Anglo-Persian- that was a real gusher," laughed Daniel, shaking his head. "Maybe I could do that when I was younger-but I doubt it." "It would have been more, but that's not my first for the day, Daniel," explained Stephen in mock apology. ***** The boys spent the last days of their summer at Croome. They helped Titus Knight repair some hedges and lent a hand with the harvesting, although for Martin this consisted mostly of moral support. The rain had not spoilt the crops this year and it was going to be a profitable one. They took tea with Miss Tadrew. Hughes was proving to be a very competent domestic servant, especially under Miss Tadrew's instruction. "He is so much better than that feather-brained Violet who could never set the table properly because she didn't know left from right. Thomas is not a very good cook, it is true, but I can cook and he is my assistant. He's taken to the garden too. I've put a cot in his room and his little boy has been to visit twice. A dear little chap and I don't mind him coming-in fact I'm knitting him a pullover," she said, indicating the knitting beside her chair. Hughes himself looked quite transformed by a proper diet, security and a neat uniform. He thanked Stephen and his lordship for their help and it was pleasing to see him grateful, but not humbled, by his experiences. Stephen and Martin went to the Women's Institute Hall on the Owens brothers' half-day from the mill. The baker's son was just leaving and he raised his cap to Martin and nicely expressed his condolences. The Owens boys were at the punching bag, Douglas holding it for Reuben to ram with his heavy slogs. They stopped and straightened up and, having no caps to raise, simply said they were sorry about Lord Branksome's death and sympathised with his young lordship. "T'estate bin in thine care now, you lor'ship," warned Reuben. The conversation turned to Stephen's boxing matches and some of the moves were re-enacted. The Owens were going to the village of Holes in some weeks' time to fight and had been doing a great deal of training in the spare hours of extra daylight. The boys were looking forward to the after-training activity and soon the sweaty boys had removed each other's clothes. Stephen wanted to experience Douglas' tongue again and leaned forward and parted his cheeks. Douglas set to work running his long tongue up and down the silk-lined crack while the other two watched on. Martin had to go over and support Stephen's shoulders as he was going weak at the knees. The sight of Stephen is such ecstasy had Martin's cock hard and Reuben knelt down and took it into his mouth. Stephen's own cock was leaking profusely and Martin reached down and ran a finger over the head that was now protruding from under the long foreskin. He tasted it on his tongue. He went back with two fingers and retrieved more, which he fed to the cock-sucking Reuben. Douglas, pausing from his labours said: "Reuben, come t'look art this. Has thou ever seen a sight so beautiful?" Reuben got up and inspected Stephen's muscular buttocks, now spread with abandon and saturated. "See how t'lovely black hair curls round just like the nest o' t'hedge thrush? 'tis beautiful as t'sunrise is thart. Come taste it." Reuben agreed with his brother and leaned his face into Stephen's crack and confirmed the opinion. Martin, having nothing to do but support Stephen, shuffled the group over to the horse so that Stephen could lean on it and Martin could taste some more of Stephen's cock. "I'm getting close, Mala, and I don't want to spend yet," huffed Stephen. "I want to see you suck Reuben." Martin was past caring and so took meaty Reuben's rural-tasting member into his mouth. Reuben enjoyed it and Martin was much taken with Reuben's enthusiastic appreciation. Suddenly he reached down and pulled Martin off and drew him up for a kiss. "Steady on Reuben, he be mine," called out Stephen. "Sorry Stephen, sorry your lordship, I bin an' forgot myself," he said, but this apology was undercut somewhat by the twinkle in his eye. Martin moved back to Stephen and used his mouth to bring Stephen to the edge of a climax. This was consummated by stretching Stephen's balls at the final moment just as Reuben contributed to the pleasure of them all by gripping his lordship's head and holding him fast on Stephen until he was quite spent. Then Martin returned to finish off Reuben and received another load of seed, this time from the chair bodger's son. A grateful Stephen turned on the exhausted Douglas and used his hand and mouth until he too spilled. Stephen, breathing hard, had put his arm around Martin's neck and Martin had his nose buried in his fragrant pit, when Reuben spoke: "Douglas has been pracktisin' his kissin,' Stephen, baint thee, Doug?" "Aye, Reuben has be teachin' me behind t'pigs. I right take to it now, but I still baint no Nancy, mind," he said impassively. And indeed Douglas planted a scorching kiss on all three of them, wrapping his meaty arms around each of them and almost squashing the breath from their lungs. He resumed his former position, still not smiling. "Your lordship, I bin worried 'bout Stephen's bollocks when he's in t' ring," said Douglas at last, "He wurn't wear no drawers and they does move around somthin' fierce," and here he stood behind the naked Stephen, his cock gently resting in Stephen's wet crack, and reached around and hefted and caressed Stephen's low hanging ball sack as if to further his point. "'t would be a shame t' were somethin' t' happen to this beautiful set o' bollocks." The others nodded in agreement. "Just t' one fetch bin does me," he continued, "but t' village stud has 'nuff gruel for us all in't 'em beauties, eh Stephen?" "Aye, Doug, and I think there is some more in there too," said Stephen with a grin as he stood with his hairy legs spread wide and his hands on his hips while Douglas continued to fondle his sack. The three of them then set to work on Stephen's cock, balls, crack and nipples until he spent again, covering their faces so that Douglas might have been moved to describe the happy result as being as beautiful as a sunset by Maxfield Parrish, had he been familiar with modern American painting. To be continued? To be continued? Thanks for reading. If you have any comments or questions, Henry and I would love to hear from you. Just send them to farmboy5674@yahoo.com and please put N O B in the subject line.