Current Cast Members of Hartman House:
as of 5/26/03 Aidan Campbell - McCody

Lady Aidan Campbell-McCody was born in Ireland, County Tipperary, to Richard Campbell, 14th Earl of Cahill, and Lady Ciara Bell of County Kildare.  While Aidan was still in nappies her parents, of landed gentry and quite affluent, recognized the fragility of state affairs and prudently arranged her marriage to the son of politically powerful, lifelong friends.

As a child Aidan, (Irish/Gaelic for "little fiery one"), was a spirited imp with a penchant for mischief tempered by a proclivity toward an angelic demeanor that would melt the hardest stone heart.  She was educated by her resident doting governess, Rosemead, who schooled her in the rules of genteel deportment, and on a vast array of topics in foreign languages.  Aidan was a bit of a tomboy, much to her mother's dismay and her devoted father's pleasure.  She spent stolen moments trailing along with her father, who taught 
her to hunt on horseback and fish the River Suir.  Often Monty, her young intended, spent extended holidays with them and partook in the adventures, as well.

When Monty was breeched at age five, he and Aidan became inseparable.  They spent countless summer days staging mock battles with Monty's flat lead soldiers, and in the winter, they played indoor games such as Blind Man's Buff.  Shortly after Aidan reached the age of consent, she was IT in such a game and, as she reached out in her blindfolded state to catch Monty, he stole their first kiss and won her heart.  Years sped by and when Monty attained the rank of Colonel in the Army, the two were wed. 

The petite woman stands a scant five-feet tall and has expressive, hazel-green eyes.  Her porcelain complexion is flawless, save for the sun's slight blush and a scant dozen tiny, sun-kisses that glitter the bridge of her button nose.  Aidan favors simple coiffures for her cascading, burnt sienna tendrils ... either a crown of curls pinned and tucked in the current fashion, or loosely pulled away from her face by a puffed satin bow tied at the nape of her neck.  Her silhouette naturally forms an hour-glass figure which she accentuates with a demi-corset reinforced by  whale bone.  She favors nature's colors in her vast wardrobe.  Her disposition is bright and her blithe spirit is still discernable.  Monty often calls her his "Chenapan" -- his "Scamp". 

Five years after their marriage, Aidan still maintains a striking persona ... meticulously manicured in understated, proper elegance.  But, under her ladylike facade lies the smouldering embers of a woman passionately in love with her husband, and willing to please his every whim. 

Before departing on his first military assignment after their wedding, Monty presented Aidan with a gift that forever changed their lives... a ribbon-tied copy of "Fanny Hill" along with instructions to read ten page increments and then pen letters to him, detailing her most intimate reactions after each increment.  It was the first of many such gifts they would enthusiastically share.  Before leaving on his current assignment in Egypt, Monty gifted her with a copy of  "Philosophy in the Boudoir," by the Marquis de Sade, along with 
instructions that restrict her reading to marked passages, one per week, followed by the same type of letter as ever.

Post Excerpts:

The Bath - March 26, 2003
Aidan sunk further into the clawfoot tub until thewater splashed against her delicate chin and kissed the nape of her neck. Underwater, she braced the soles of her tiny feet against the foot of the tub and playfully wiggled her toes. Droplets of water flicked through the air, much like skipping rocks plinking across a pond. She gazed into the water and watched the shimmering, ever-changing image of her pale alabaster flesh beneath. The constant, fluid motion nearly mesmerized her as she finally relaxed. The gentle waves played over her body like delicate fingers across a harp. The two pale cocoa rosebuds of her breasts perked as the water caressed them, and Aidan soon felt a passionate longing in her depths. 
Her mind waged a battle against her body, "I will not succumb to these needs," she argued, "I must wait until the time is right."

Hot Time in the Cream Room - April 4, 2003
Aidan leaned down, and her auburn-sienna curls spilled against Mariette's bare bosom. Her hair tickled the small hills with their hardened nubs, and the shallow valley that lie between them. Slowly and sensuously, Aidan ran her tonguetip along Mariette's sweet mouth. 
She drew the bottom lip between her own and gently sucked at it while pulling away a bit. Her fingers instructed Mariette's hand to continue exploring the path they had started together. Then she withdrew her hand, knowing Mariette would continue to manually stimulate her nether region without Aidan's assistance for the time being. 

Best Laid Plans - May 4, 2003
Aidan drew in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Composing herself, she devised a cursory plot in her mind. The first obstacle to overcome was her clothing. She would need her riding habit back, but she had no idea where the wet bundle had been taken.  "Oh," she thought, "Mariette! I will enlist her aid!" The second hurdle would be in gathering up her belongings that were now scattered throughout her assigned room; again, Mariette would prove handy in
packing every trace of her existence back into the tapestry valise.

Aidan smiled thinly, "Perhaps this is not as difficult as I first imagined." She needed to devise a way of remaining unseen by anyone other than Mariette. That way, perhaps Mariette might be amenable to keeping her existence strictly between the two of them. They were, after all, on intimate terms. Aidan grinned as she absentmindedly reached to her wrist and patted
what was up her sleeve.

RE: All Things Wet - May 16, 2003
The uneasy feeling in Aidan's belly traveled throughout her drenched body and caused a deep-seated chill to penetrate her to the core. In actuality, she knew nothing of her unseen hosts and was starting to doubt their very existence. Although she had intimate carnal knowledge of the girl behind her, she knew very little else of her, as well. A strange-looking little man in the kitchen was undressing for the benefit of two women while a dog watched on, and they all seemed to ignore the existence of a tented dead man underfoot. Portraits that blinked, a second tented corpse, and unexplained blasts of cold air tracked fear through her thoughts. 

RE: Aidan's First Lesson - August 9, 2003
Aidan drew in a deep breath that expanded her chest upward. As she exhaled, she released her firm breasts and let them hang naturally.  Her palms eagerly traveled down the short length of her torso, over the hollow of her belly, until they came to rest, one atop the other, at the juncture of her thighs. She spread her fingers wide, revealing the alabaster white flesh of her mound beneath them.  Slowly and methodically, Aidan rubbed the skin to a soft glowing pink. As if in error, occasionally she slipped a finger or two between the folds at the tip of her slit. Each resulting shudder was both visible and audible to Monty.

The rest of the world was shut out, and Aidan was soon solely transfixed on her Master's desires. It was as though a gossamer cocoon had been woven around them ... a safe, warm, sensuous place unknown to anyone else but them. 
 

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Cameo Anastasia Vivona

You are pleased to make the acquaintance of the Countess Cameo Anastasia Vivona, recently of  Italy. A cool and confident figure, she never wears less than the best. Her midnight dark hair falls in abundant waves to her waist when unbound. A high brow slopes to a regal, aquiline nose speaking of generations of aristocratic breeding. The depth of her impenetrable ink-dark eyes often reflects a spark of secret humor, the same of which causes a sensation among the upright citizens of London’s haute ton. 

Her blood runs hot, under a cool exterior, artfully maintained through years of insinuating herself into one boudoir after another without a whisper of scandal. Rumors flutter but never 
make the grade when referring to la Dona Vivona. Her reputation is beyond reproach, a great source of humor to the Countess, for she makes no illusions when examining herself. Her appetites are no secret among her well-kept, very well paid staff. 

Those appetites are kept satisfied by every footman, coachman, groom, and maid in her employ. Visitors to the Vivona household are often stunned and envious of the swift 
and adoring manner in which the servants respond to their  Mistress. 

Cameo stands a regal 5’10 flatfooted, her olive skin flawless and touched with the cast only generations of selective breeding can bestow. Her slender throat is often adorned with unique and exotic jewelry, the source of most the pockets of her varied lovers. Her curves do not often require the cinching of a corset, but she upholds the tenets of society with her particular flair to them. Her nails are kept long and lacquered a dark red.

She amuses herself with art, music and history, her knowledge of matters left more often to men astonishing, and very rarely  acknowledged. She is a shrewd and  witty persona, having no trouble comporting herself properly,in the presence of royalty, or servants.

Post Excerpts:

RE: Seeking Shelter - March 15 2003
The rapidity of the maid's speech was startling. Andre nodded where he was supposed to and bowed as he backed away to the carriage.Cameo greeted the stunned coachman with a raised brow as Andre reached for the small footstool under her seat.

"She says you are welcomed, Contessa."

"She said a great deal, Andre," Cameo's lips twitched with humor. Her poor coachman looked bewildered. "Are you sure you are not misunderstanding?"

She chuckled as Andre's brows drew together in a frown and rose to descend the stair. "Caro, you still do not know when I jest with you, no? Move quickly now. Soon you will all be warm by the kitchen fire."

RE: What the heck was that! - March 16 2003
Cameo lifted one perfect brow as Elizabetta squealed and ducked behind Andre. Her coahman moved to step in fron tof her, but a flickof her wrist stayed him. She feard nothing, and was entirely capable of defending herself. HOwever, she saw little need for alarm, for although he was formidably armed, the man dashing toward them as handsome, dripping 
wet, and very nearly naked. Cameo made a quick guess about his identity.She allowed herself a puckish grin and dropped the most artfully sassy curtsy she had ever in her life managed.

Out of the Shadows - June 14, 2003
In all the coming and going, Cameo very quietly slipped out of the parlor and up the grand staircase. From what she had gathered, she surmised her room was at the end of a hall and found it rather quickly.  She was pleased to see her trunk and a cot had been brought up and placed near to hand. She directed Betta to her unpacking as she steered poor Andre before the fire blazing cheerfully in the hearth.

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Fenwick Fluck 

Detective Chief Inspector (DCI) Fenwick Fluck is affectionately and informally known as "Wicky" or "Guv," throughout  the London Metropolitan Police Force (the "Met").

The Met is composed primarily of retired non-commissioned Army officers with good records.  Currently, a special division of the Met is being formed, the details of which are of a delicate nature.  Suffice it to say that Wicky, who had served in Her Majesty's Army for less than five years, (during which time he had earned several commendations, including the distinguished Candahar Ghuznee Cabul 1842 medal for service in Afghanistan), was honorably discharged from Her Majesty's service in order to aid the current commissioner in establishing and promoting this special, secret division.

Wicky is a man of highest capacity and character.  Employing unorthodox  approaches to crime-solving, he has singlehandedly apprehended hundreds of loose, idle, and disorderly persons who have given just cause to be suspected of evil designs and, in general, disturbing the public peace.

Although a man above suspicion, and a law-abiding citizen who exudes external respectability, in private circles Wicky is known for his voracious, deviant carnal appetites.  He is a notoriously  "energetic" man, perhaps due in part to his professional affiliation with the "Society for the Suppression of Vice."  This affiliation affords Wicky endless opportunities to engage in ongoing contact with hundreds of women who have fallen from the pedestal of virtue and innocence into the brothels and rooming houses of London.  Since prostitution is legal in London, Wicky freely enjoys this aspect of society to its fullest.

Oddly, Wicky resembles the United States President, Abraham Lincoln.  He has a full head of curly, cropped, dark brown hair.  His facial hair includes thick arched eyebrows that give the appearance of constant surprise tinged with sarcastic disbelief, mutton-chop sideburns, and a scraggly beard that frames his jawline.  His penetrating, dark-brown eyes and are said to bring some of London's finest women of all classes to their knees with but a single glance. 

Wicky is witty, a clever prankster, and good humored.  Coupled with his untraditional methods, these characteristics often lead criminals and suspects to misjudge and underestimate his capabilities.

He is currently on hunt holiday at Kenilworth Lodge, a scant mile from Hartman House.  The grand lodge is owned by a prominent Scotland Yard commissioner who has been called back to London unexpectedly, but has left Wicky there alone with a full staff of servants at his disposal.

Post Excerpts:

Wicky Arrives - May 6, 2003
Creeping through the rain like a thin praying mantis, Wicky peered through the windows as he made his way to the front door, making note of what lay inside each room. Finally standing at the grand entrance, Wicky knocked at the door and waited for someone to open it. A wicked smile crossed his lips as he stroked his chin beard and thought, "I hope a saucy little wench will open the door. I could do with a bit of warming up." He leaned against the house and felt a stirring in his breeches. "Yes. A hot little wench could really heat things up."

Balls and beautiful bare breasts - May 17, 2003
Wicky sighed heavily, realizing he must attend to duties before attending to himself. He stood up and carefully watched the animal bend around the corner. <Lewis came trotting back in with something in his mouth... something round shaped and metalic.> He saw the dog go over to the strange man and was shocked when the man withdrew a round metal ball from the dog’s mouth. Wicky quickly reached into his pocket and searched for his own ball, thinking that maybe the cur had stolen it from him. His fingers curled around the ball, and he realized the one the animal had found must have been the mate to the one that was still safely tucked in his pocket. Wicky wondered whether these balls had anything to do with the murders. It was a suspicion that was further fueled when the strange man in the kitchen lifted the tented croker and carried him over his shoulders while still holding on to the metallic ball in his hand. 

Hot and Cold - May 22, 2003
"I say, Old Man," Wicky said as he stroked his fringe beard, "It’s getting a bit ripe in here. As soon as someone figures out where the root cellar is, maybe you can lend a hand with this croaker?" Wicky pointed to John’s corpse that seemed to be pointing back at him with the tent in his pants. Wicky noticed the woman's underwear the corpse was wearing had been tucked back inside his trousers, and the flaps had been closed by someone. "Who? Why?" Wicky wondered. He shrugged and figured maybe the half-naked, strange little man who sat on the bed and left the heart-shaped wet spot, had done it as part of the bizarre sex acts he seemed to be performing in the kitchen earlier.

RE:  Billiards and Balls - June 17, 2003
<Wicky rushed back to his girly pink room where he locked the door, draped the woman's clothing on the ottoman, drew out a monacle from another trouser pocket, and searched the dress and corset for clues.> He noted the material was not only torn but was also shredded in places. While he pondered about the kind of person who would do such a thing to a woman, Wicky found a clue. It was a single strand of black hair with a bit of a curl to it, that might have belonged to a woman or man. It was hard to tell given that it was shorter than most women's hair, but it had been stretched or pulled judging by the kink in it. "Maybe the woman struggled with her murderer," Wicky thought. 

Just then Wicky heard giggling out in the hall. He laid the hair clue back on the dress and ran to peer through the keyhole. He grinned as he recognized the two women he had earlier seen in bed, across the hall. They were dressed, much to Wicky's dismay. The taller one made a striking figure in her elegant morning dress, while the shorter one looked more like a child playing dress-up. Wicky was highly amused by their antics as they staggered their way down the stairway in front of his door. He dismissed the idea of them being murderers, since the hair color was wrong and they were acting too innocently (although he was sure they were "guilty" of having indulged in each others favors judging by the way they walked).
 

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Gabrielle Morlet

Madamoiselle Gabrielle Morlet is an upper-middle class french woman traveling through the countryside when the wheel of her carriage breaks on a rock. She approaches the house to seek 
shelter. 

She is actually in the process of leaving her unfaithful husband, Leon Morlet, and has no official destination.

Gabrielle is a very gentle lady with pale skin and immaculate strawberry blonde curls.

Post Excerpts:

The arrival of Lady Gabrielle Morlet - June 4, 2003
Gabrielle made her way up the path to the front of the house. I would have to leave Leon on the stormiest day of the month, she thought, thinking of her husband who had only this morning done his worst job ever of concealing his unfaithful acts with one of their servants. With a sigh, she focused on the problem at hand: shelter. She knocked daintly on the front door and awaited an answer.
 
 

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Gavin Mowat

Standing a tad over 6' 1" his muscular frame does not fit the body type of England of the time. This Inspector's Crystal blue eyes betray his Scottish heritage and his Reddish Brown hair is tied in a ponytail,  a silver "Sans Peur" kiltpin tieback finishing the head..... he wears suits well beyond his apparent means.. <a clue perhaps to a secret he holds?> a pearl handled cane in his grasp... and a webley mark5 in his pocket....

He is a shrewd inspector who seems to have a knack for delving into the darkest secrets and desires people's minds hold.  His past, a mystery, it is only known that he carefully worked his way up through the ranks of Scotland Yard, earning the respect and admiration of those he works with.
 

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Geoffry 

Geoffry is quite a young man, looking about the same age as the Lord Richard  Hartman.  The two of them had grown up on the same estate.  Geoffry being the son of a butler had grown up being groomed to one day serve a Lord in his household.  Though still classed as an 'under butler' he was Lord Hartman's personal butler, accustomed to his needs and 'peculiar habits'.

With Dark blonde hair and green eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, he was classified as quite the handsome fellow.  His normal household uniform during the day was a vest, white shirt, and dark pants...in the evening at about tea time he would add a black jacket, cut short in the front, just to the waist with split tails in the back.

Having been hired out of friendship by the Lord himself, he acts sometimes as companion, sometimes butler, and sometimes bodyguard, as the Lord of the home sometimes had 'outings' that required such.

Quite happy in his position, he runs most of the household, keeping things in working order, and even had a woman..or two...in town that he manages to see every week or so.

Post Excerpts:

Yes Sir! - March 30, 2003
Was Mariette flirting with that woman...and HOLY GOD! he would pay for this kind of thing! Hunkering down quite happily and gluing his eye to the crack in the ceiling he watches...not really having much room up in the crawlspace to...well, make himself happier he contents himself with a stiff...reclining position, and watches intently...

Dum de dee dum...huh? - April 2, 2003
Scrambling down the ladder and rushing to cover up any traces he had been in the attic, hoping at the same time not to really miss 
anything he quickly dashes for the door, planning on skating out into the hallway...he spots Mariette making her way stealthily through the 
hallway...skidding to a stop and grabbing the doorjam to prevent himself from floundering into the hall...he hides back behind the 
doorjam, seeing her dissapear around the corner with that woman he was supposed to keep an eye on....suddenly remembering that Lord Richard had told him to delay the woman until he had recieved a signal, he almost rushes into the hall to try to delay her. Instead 
he waits till she slips around the corner and follows behind silently...peering around the corner he sees the woman vanish into the cream guest room, noting that's where shes staying, hes about to go get a good view for the rest of the show when he hears a reverberating knock at the back door...shaking it off assuming John will get it, he heads over toward the guest room. There is was again! Well damn it, John really was on vacation. Heaving a heavy sigh he dashes down the back stairway.

AHhhhhh... April 28, 2003
Having tried to be quite silent throughout the whole ordeal, and unmoving (except for his hand) he had succeeded to a greater or lesser degree. That scene with that wooden whatever it happened to be was just too much for him, the wall would carry another stain. Taking a deep breath he straightened himself up and replaced the eyes in the holes in the wall. Taking another deep breath and leaning back against the wall he relaxed for a moment...no use spoiling the feeling....ah well, now its gone, time to get back to work.

Dum de dum...de dum..de dum - May 23, 2003
MY GOD! Someone else is dead...what the hell was he to do now...well, he could either yell like a little girl...which was seeming quite tempting at the moemnt...or he could stop panicking and go and see exactly what happened to the woman...up to this point he had no details on how or why the people were dying.  Taking a calming breath...then another...then another...well none of them seeming to help much he steps inside the room...quietly making his way over to what he assumes is another dead body...he makes a quick visual scan..not seeing blood, or anything of that nature that might make him faint or be sick...he sets his fingers against the woman's neck on the off chance she might not be dead.

DUM DUM DUM!!! de dum - June 26, 2003
Now knowing if she was being welcoming, or she was tired, or what might be the case...he hesitates a little, not sure how far to go....Geoffry! Stop being so damn timid! You goof! His brain shouts at him. The worst she can do is slap you and leave!

Well then what the hell, his brain was never wrong....er..well not usually! His fingers slide down and slowly trace around her nipple, just in a soft circle before running across the tip...his finger gently running back and forth across it...

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Giana Vinconne 

Giana or Gia as known to her friends is from Northern Italy.  She is from a wealthy family that has fallen on hardship.  Forced to earn her living she began looking for a position as a cook and came to Hartman house in that capacity.   She has traveled extensively and speaks several languages and cooks a variety of foods.

She is very small, 5' even, has light blond hair and green/gold eyes.  Has dimples when she smiles and her eyes sparkle when she's up to somthing.   She has a small frame but is very curvatious with large breasts....an hourglass figure.  She is courteous but protective of her body as well as her heart.   

She keeps a large siamese cat with her which she dotes on and he in turn, keeps the kitchen free of mice.

Post Excerpts:

Enter the Cook - Aug 10, 2003  
She flashes back to the present....her coach is just pulling up to Hartman House - it is evening and the moon is just breaking through the mists....she feels a ripple of fear? foreboding? run down her back as she takes her bags and the coach pulls away leaving her facing the manor. She makes her way to the back door....figuring it to be near the kitchen or servant's quarters and knocks...the bags are heavy and she sets one down....but holds the other close...talking to it...inside is her large male siamese "Zeus". He has been with her since he was a baby and is her constant companion..he sleeps beside her at night and stays in the kitchen with her during the day, keeping it free of mice and flys. He has a keen sense when judging the character of humans and is fiercely protective of his mistress. 

There is no answer to her knock so she raps again, a bit harder this time...and the door gives way..groaning slightly as it opens...another shiver runs up her spine. It's dark inside so she enters slowly, her bags in her hands...as she enters she hears noises coming from nearby that can only be one thing...Zeus hisses and she looks around and sees a man in the shadows near the door. She freezes and wonders what ever possessed her to come here...she has the letter introducing her for the cooking position clutched in small hand.......she eyes the man in the shadows and waits nervously for him to speak.
 

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Gigi 

Gigi is 25 years old, a maid her whole life. Her mother was a Lady's maid and Gigi was brought up earning the trade. She has long brown hair, and brown eyes. She is a voluptuous woman, full figured, but only 5 feet 3 inches tall and very pleasing  to the eye. She only left her previous employer when he went bankrupt and were forced to leave the world they knew. She does have some deep dark secrets....can you discover what they are?

Post Excerpts:

Gigi applies for the job - March 31, 2003
After wandering for hours, taking a few wrong turns here & there she finally stumbles upon the house, cursing the one in town who gave her the directions. she takes a moment to smooth out the wrinkles from her soft gray dress and white apron, and straighen out her cap upon her long brown hair, hoping she doesn't look too windblown. She really needs the job, ever since her last employers went bankrupt, she has been out of work. Holding her breath, and hoping for the best, she makes her way around the grounds to the servants entrance, and knocks on the door....

HELP!!! - May 3, 2003
One more time, she tries to rouse the butler slumped over the chair...she shakes him, saying "excuse me" hoping she doesn't knock him outta his chair...

he slips out of the chair, and hits the floor with a thud. Scared that she hurt him, she leans over to check on him. What is that weird look on his face? and what is that stench coming off of him? and why is he so pale? reaching down cautiously, she tries to find a pulse on his wrist, why is his body so cold? and why is there no pulse? Jumping back, horrified, she takes a quick look at the butler, the slight smile, the paleness of his skin, the tent in his pants, and finally it sinks in, the man is dead. Dead?!?!? backing 
away, keeping her eye on the corpse, like it was gonna jump up at her, she reaches the door, and turns running screaming from the room...

RE: Oh dear.... - May 5, 2003
Sobbing uncontrolably, she slips into the open doorway, barely noticing her surroundings or the other maid in the room. "The...b.b..butler in the kit..kit..kitchen is dead Ma'am. I...I...I was tryin to get his atten..atten...attention to see where the w...w...wine is that I can serve with din..din..dinner. S..s...so I shook him, and he f...f...fell out of the chair onto the f...f...floor. I...I...I leaned down to s...see...see if he was hurt, and his skin...his skin...it was c..c..cold & c..c...clammy. I..I...I tried to f..f..feel for a pulse, and there was none." She stammered out, her voice raising in octives with every word, to the point where she was crying so much, it was hard to understand what she said. Having told the Lady what she discovered, she promptly toppled over and fainted. 

RE: Dum de dum...de dum de dum - May 23, 2003
Gigi so lost in what she was doing, she did not hear anyone enter the room. She pulls up her skirt to almost her waist, spreads her legs a bit further, and loses herself deeper in the memory of Manuel. Faster and faster, her fingers move in and out, moans falling from her lips, growing louder and louder, completely unaware she has any kind of audience. Her other hand strays to her breasts, massaging and squeezing them, as if Manny was there, and they were His hands upon her. 

Re: Dum..dum..dum...DUM! - August 8, 2003
Groans softly, her eyes flutter open, looking deep into his green eyes as she moves her hips against his fingers, her thighs spreading wider. She licks her lips lightly before pressing them against his, nibbling on his lower lip. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears what she thinks is a dog howling, but quickly pushes it from her mind, concentrating on the task at hand....
 

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Henry Hegewish 

Sir Henry Hegewish stands barely 6' in height, with a thin but athletic, wiry build.  He tends to wear his dark hair long, over the back of his collar, and matched by an even longer dark beard that he wears mostly to hide his thoughts and expressions.  His eyes are a deep, bottomless black, framed by long dark lashes, which nearly always were commented on by the women in his life.  Knighted for extraordinary service to the crown while (quite accidentally) recovering property of the crown from theives in Japan, he prefers to underscore his achievements and remain in the background of most situations.

Born and raised in London, Henry was the son of a bank manager and a housewife.  His upbringing was not priveledged per se, but was comfortable.His mother had a housemaid and a cook to help with the chores around the house, and his father was a member of several London gentlemens clubs, and was able to provide the finest of educations for Henry.  He always felt somewhat between worlds, neither quite as noble as most of his classmates, nor as lowborn as his playmates, the children of the 
house servants.

As such, Henry learned to keep mostly to himself as a child, and this tendency stayed with him throughout his secondary and university education. In his twenties, when most men his age were finding wives and settling down, Henry was more interested in further expansion of his education, mostly through travel, and reading about travel during the times he couldn't get away.  In his years after university he had the opportunity  to explore most of Europle, had taken a scandalously interesting trip 
to New York, and had done as much to take a year to travel to the Orient.

Now, at the ripe age of 37, his parents had given up all hope of their bachelor son ever settling down.  Though he had been far around the world, he still remained mostly to himself.  For a period of several years, he had a long standing affair with a married american woman living in London.  She asked little of him, and did not expect him to entertain with her or attend social events.  To him, it was the perfect relationship, as she was also open to his desires whenever they flamed, and met his passions with 
a quite uninhibited lavishness he came to much appreciate.

When she sailed back to america with her husband, he fell into a despair, leaving his job in the city for a private position with an elderly gentleman in the scottish countryside.  Most of his days were spent attempting to put the fellow's affairs in order, as he owned odd lots of property throughout Scotland, England, Ireland and Italy, many of which had been allowed to fall into disrepair under unworthy property managers.  The job gave him the opportunity to travel often, which he much enjoyed.

Over the year and some that he had worked for the Baron, he had come to gain the old man's trust, and was given the most delicate of duties to attend to.  He rewrote the gentleman's will, oversaw the books for the many properties he owned, and most importantly, oversaw nearly all matters concerning the gentleman's daughter, Lady Kathryn Hartman.

Post Excerpts:

To ride tonight... - May 23, 2003
Henry had watched from a way back for a while, then slowly strolled to the fence, his arms folded across his chest. He admired her spirit - nothing moved him more than wild, natural, untamed beauty. 
Standing at the fence, he watched the mare carefully. He kept himself still, but made eye contact with her. She glanced at him from time to time, then began prancing even more highly, almost as though she was putting on a show for him. Her distraction finally allowed one of the stable boys to capture her reins. She attempted to yank herself away, but he kept a firm hold.

Henry walked slowly around the fence and grinned at the stable boys. "Now that you have her again, saddle her up for me. I'll have her for the day." Though the boys had protested, Henry had his way, and the wild mare was his for the afternoon. Though she had been tense, and had attempted to fight him at first, it didn't take her long to settle under his firm control. Before long, they were racing in a wild gallop across the fields, her reins tightly in his grasp.

RE: Over a shoulder and through the woods - June 12, 2003
Henry twisted the knob and was somewhat surprised when it gave in his hand, the door opening before him. Stepping into the lavish foyer, he deposited his burden next to him, a now wet and wooly mess, with the blanket soaking now through the trek downt the road. Pulling the blanket back from the little waif's face, he chuckled easily and said, "Now then, is anyone up for the day yet? Or are we on our own?" He eyed the girl carefully for signs of imminent collapse, or 
a return to her earlier hysterical state. "We should get you into dry clothes. I need to find someone to announce my arrival to the Lady of the house. You wouldn't happen to know where I can rouse someone to do that, do you?"

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Kathryn Hartman 

Lady Kathryn is a tall, lovely woman.  Her age might be anywhere from 20 - 30... her face is unlined but her deep eyes speak of a wisdom beyond that which her face belies.  She stands tall, at 5'8, and is statuesque, with a full bust and wide hips.  Her waist is often drawn in tightly with her corset which accents these features even further.

Her hair is a deep coppery red.  It falls in soft waves and curls to nearly her waist when it is loose, but during the day she favors elaborate hairstyles that coil and twist about, with ringlets framing her oval face.  Her skin is pale ivory, creamy and freckled here and there with spatterings of pale brown, almost copper freckles.  Her eyes are a deep emerald green with flecks of gold and long curling dark copper lashes.

Her features seem to be predominantly Irish, with a slightly upturned nose sprinkled with light freckles, wide set eyes, and full pink lips above a stubborn little chin.  She carries herself with confidence and grace, and can most often be found with a smile on her face.

Most days she can be found in dresses of deep greens and purples.  She favors jewel tones, and more elaborately designed dresses to go with her elaborate coiffures.  Most days, in addition to her wedding band and engagement solitaire, she can also be found bedecked in various earrings and necklaces.

Lady Kathryn is the wife of Lord Richard Hartman, and is a born and bred (and rather spoiled) lady of means.  She and her husband own Hartman House and its various attached estates.  Her wardrobe of clothing and jewelry is extensive, and she is well educated and refined. 

Kathryn is the daughter of a Scottish baron and an Irish farmgirl.  Her parents were deeply, vastly in love, and lived the life of a fairy tale, until the night their first child was born, taking her mothers life as she came into the world.  Kathryn was born by a full moon, and as she screamed to announce her own life, her mother slipped from her own with a sigh.

On the loss of his wife her father fell apart emotionally.  He was entirely devastated and no longer able to function.  He retreated into his home, turning the land over to a brother until his only daughter, Kathryn, came of age.

Kathryn was raised and schooled in a convent high in the French countryside. Though she loved the nuns that raised her, she longed to experience the world. When she came of age her father and his friend, the senior Lord Hartman, arranged for her to meet and subsequently marry Lord Richard. 

Their love is intense, even though their relationship was orchestrated by family.  Though Lady Kathryn is a titled Lady from her own line of descent, she also is titled through her marriage to Lord Hartmore.  She owns extensive lands in Scotland and France, though her residence is now Hartman House, 
year round.

Because her upbringing was somewhat sheltered, Lady Kathryn is still a bit naive, and is easily shocked.  She is becoming more well traveled and acquainted with the world through her marriage to Lord Hartman, though often she does rely on him to protect her from the world.  She feels sheltered in her relationship with him and their quiet life in the country.

Though she is generally a kind woman, she does have a fiery Irish temper and a somewhat moody disposition.  She is most often found in the Morning Room or the Library.

Post Excerpts:

RE: Introduction of Lord Richard Hartman - March 12, 2003
Lady Kathryn spins and squeals in delight, throwing her arms around her husband's neck and nearly bowling him over with her enthusiasm. "Oh m'Lord, I've missed you SO much!!! The house is so 
quiet without you! I just didn't know what to do with myself... And for goodness sakes half the servants have vanished again. You don't think it's the spanking the last chambermaid got that ran them off, 
do you? She did break that vase after all..."

Rooms and baths and dresses - Oh my! - March 27, 2003
"Now, Lady Leanna, if you will just follow me, I will show you to the upstairs... a bit more welcoming perhaps." Lady Kathryn headed for the stairs herself, entirely unaccustomed to showing people to rooms and not quite sure exactly what to say. What ~did~ you do when you were doing the leading along, anyways? Goodness, usually Mariette or one of the butlers did all this, and suddenly it seemed much more complicated than she thought it might be. Deciding that perhaps it was best to simply remain quiet while on the way, Lady Kathryn simply headed up the stairs, skirts caught in handfuls in front of herself. The quicker she managed to do this, the less it would seem odd, she was certain. Not even looking to see if Lady Leanna was following, Lady Kathryn fairly quickly mounted the stairs and headed off down the hallway. Hmmm, she had someone in the black room, someone in the cream room... she would put this newest visitor in the white room so that she would be closer to the other bathroom and not need to share with the other two. Goodness knew the Lady Aidan must still be in 
the bath, Lady Kathryn guessed as she passed the door, hearing faint splashing within.

RE: What to do - April 23, 2003
"You must be our other new maid, no? It seems you have already been to work... it's good to see. I'm afraid we've had some trouble with the help of late..." Lady Kathryn let her voice trail off a bit, her mind wandering back to the tea that had yet to be delivered, though she had requested it of John hours ago. Truly, she had no idea what took that man such time with simple tasks. He would have to be punished again... though if anything she was starting to wonder if at times he didn't work slower just to get more punishments... Often when she sent him off to gather a switch he had a curious little smile about his lips. Ah, regardless....

Secrets in the night... - May 17, 2003
Glaring down into the gloom, Lady Kathryn squinted. Was that... two girls running across the yard? Who would be running about in a storm at this hour? She watched as they vanished into the darkened cold 
storage shed and waited for a lamp to alight. When there was none, she squinted, even more curious. Neither figure emerged, nor did a light flare on. She knew herself that it was black as pitch in the storage shed at night, once the door was closed there would not even be the light from the windows of the house to illuminate the inside. 

Who in heavens name would be?... unless perhaps it was the two new maids... perhaps they knew each other. Perhaps that was their secret meeting place. Perhaps that explained the deaths in the house?...

RE: A Dogs Life - August 10, 2003
Rinsing off a few mud spatters from the kettle's exterior, Kathryn emptied and refilled it, then tucked it into the fireplace and prodded the fire a bit with a poker. "You know, you'd think I'd have someone about to do such things," she said as she added a few more logs to the fire, casting a glance over her shoulder to the dog. "Don't suppose you've been trained in cooking and cleaning?" 

The fire burning more brightly, Kathryn returned to the counter and looked about, hands on her hips. Finally spotting Mariette's market basket from the day before, she delved in an searched around a bit, coming up with some scones in a red kerchif. "Oh thank heavens for that girl and her love of the french baker in the market." Kathryn began to put the scones on the tray, then noticed it's mud spattered state. Casting a stern look to the dog on the floor, or trying to through her smile at his position, she brought a new tray out from a lower cabinet and put the scones there instead, tossing a small broken off corner of one to the floor near his side. 
 

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Lewis Le Mutt 
Sir Lewis le Mutt is a real bastard.  Conceived as a result of a forbidden liaison between Lady Talullah Goodbody, a purebred, aristocratic Manchester bitch, and a ruffian vagabond of questionable parentage named Spike, "Stud" 
(his preferred name) has spent his entire young life at the fringe of England's upper echelon.

Shortly after his birth, Stud's mother enlisted the aid of a trusted French whet nurse who raised him until the tender age of fourteen (two people years) when he ran away and found his calling as a member of a select canine division of Her Majesty's armed services.  Acting under the auspices of Queen Victoria, Stud befriended an American named Morgan and posed as his friend and confidant.  Often while Morgan slept, Stud gathered secret documents pertaining to Morgan's shady dealings and buried them for later scrutiny.  As a result of his reports on the clandestine activities of the strange little man, Stud was knighted.  

After the urgent summons by Lord Richard and Lady Kathryn, Lewis accompanied Morgan and his voluptuous companion to Hartman House where he smelled trouble.  He sensed that Morgan, who was posing as a doctor, would abruptly leave Hartman House at the first hint of being implicated, and much to his dismay he was right.  

Along the trail back to England, Lewis once again smelled trouble.  (He had a nose for trouble.)  The buggy hobbled through the mud and chuck holes as driving rain poured down on its occupants.  (Morgan really did not know how to cope with English roads or weather).  During a short cat nap, Lewis was rudely awakened by the sounds of crunching twigs and underbrush.  He opened one eye and searched the densely wooded areas on the sides of the road but couldn't see anything.  Even so, he knew something was terribly wrong, so he plunged himself down from the back of the carriage and landed in a deep mud hole.  Lewis quickly recovered from his jump and raced back to Hartman House, glancing back once in a while.  At one point, Lewis thought he had seen the outline of a man's shape on horseback who seemed to be racing along side Morgan's carriage, but he wasn't sure.  It could have been the shadows of the trees.

Back at the house, Lewis made his presence known through well orchestrated, pitiful wailing and howling.  He was especially grateful when Inspector Fenwick Fluck greeted him with open arms and would be forever indebted to him.

Lewis has dark brown, puppy-dog eyes and small, thin ears that hug his head.  His nose is disproportionately large for the rest of his face, and he wears his brown and black hair cropped sleek and close.  Lewis is lean and mean, and 
stands crotch-height.  His attitude is decidedly dominant.  He is definitely a very clever cur.

Post Excerpts:

A Dog's View of Hartman House - August 6, 2003
Realizing that hunger was growling in his tummy, Lewis quickly made his way down the main stairs, hugging the railing to keep from being noticed in the event people were out and about on the lower level. He screeched to a quiet halt at the foot of the stairs when he heard voices coming from both the billiard room and the foyer in front of him. At the mounting fear of being discovered and being permanently put out into the cold rain by either the owners of the house, or by the wooly, messy maid and the wet stranger in the foyer, Lewis collapsed on to his fuzzy belly, extended his front and back paws out flat, and slunk along the floor like a worm wiggling towards the kitchen. 

Instead of making his way to the kitchen where he might find culinary treats, Lewis was distracted by the muffled moans of a woman in the back servant’s room. He sat up on his hind quarters and used his long tail as leverage. He peered in the room, not really knowing what to expect, but knowing that she sounded like she was having fun. He swiveled his head from side to side, taking in everything that was happening. To his dog’s mind, not a lot was happening. When the lady told the man to "put your mouth on my nipple, please...." Lewis threw his head back and stretched his neck to see what was so important about the lady’s nipples. "Poor lady only has two, but girl dogs have 7 or 8 of them," Lewis chuckled to himself, "Score another victory for us dogs." After a long while of waiting to see if the butler was going to do anything to the naked maid, Lewis’ tail gave way, he lost his balance, and toppled to the floor on his side. 

RE: A Dogs Life - August 10, 2003
Lewis cowered as he slowly and cautiously responded to the pretty lady’s whistle. "She thinks she can pull the wool over my eyes," he smirked, "But I know why she’s trying to get me into that room, and I have NO intention of ending up smelling like a lady of the night. Nope, no bath with frou-frou soap for me!" He glanced up at her from a safe distance and surmised the situation. If need be, he could outrun her. He stretched his long tongue out and up, and licked the remaining particles of scone from his nose before she might see the evidence of his thievery. Unfortunately, a tiny speck caught in his throat, and he began to hack again. "Water! I need water!" he howled out at her as the crumb stubbornly lodged at the back of his throat. In dire straits, Lewis scurried past the pretty lady and straight to the commode where a fresh supply of cold water laid within his reach. (Atleast he hoped it was fresh water!) Lewis stuck his head deep inside the porcelain bowl and lapped sloppily at its contents. The crumb soon melted and dislodged, and all was right with the world once again.
 

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Mariette 

Mariette is a diminutive girl of 23, barely standing five feet tall, with a delicate bone structure.   Her frame is compact, with small breasts and nearly boyish hips.  Her round, cherubic face is topped by a cap of wildly tumultuous black curls.  Her eyes are wide, round, and violet, nose slightly sharp, the 
only flaw in her countenance.

Mariette has been serving Hartman House for several years, having joined the household with Lady Kathryn after her marriage to the Lord.  She was partially raised along with Kathryn, having been her companion in the convent during her school years.  She is part maid, part confidant, part caretaker of the house and it's occupants.

Her normal daytime attire consists of a long, full skirted dove grey dress topped with a full length white apron.  When she can manage to keep it on, she wears a small white cap atop her curls.

Post Excerpts:

RE: Seeking Shelter - March 15, 2003
Mariette had just gotten to the base of the stairs, following the trails of puddles, when a knock sounded at the front door. Glancing up the staircase she could see John in conversation with his lordship. Figures, she thought, that man seems to always be busy when he's needed. Shaking her head, Mariette scurried to the bathroom to quickly stash the mop before greeting the visitors. Flinging open the door, she tossed the mop inside, then shrieked and covered her eyes at the sight of a rather large naked man. Peeking out from between her fingers she verified that he wasn't anyone she knew, then shrieked again. 

RE: The bath - March 27, 2003
Barely waiting for a response, Mariette slid one hand with the soap into the warm water. She lingered there for a moment, turning the soap gently in her hands, watching the water around it turn a slight bit cloudy, the rich scent of roses filling the air again. With a small smile, she brought the soap to Lady Aidans belly, and gently circled it there, the smooth bar moving against the creamy flesh in silken smoothness. With studied movements she swirled the soap higher, against her ribcage, and slightly higher, to brush against the tender lower curve of first one breast, and then the other. Mariette watched Lady Aidan carefully for response, then slowly circled the soap a bit higher, the bar swirling over the fullness of her lovely breasts. 

RE: Hot Time In The Cream Room - April 5, 2003
Squirming in her own heady state of desire, Mariette pressed her hips forward further, anxious to feel Aidans touch again. She felt the hardened tips of her own breasts pressing into Aidan's belly as she moved, and the sweet pressure of taut nipples pressing into her own flesh as well, fueling her desire even more. Moving her thumb to one side, she leaned in and slowly traced the barest tip of her tongue 
around that small, sensitive pearl, a whimper of pleasure sliding past her lips at the taste of the other woman's desire. 

Not Another! - May 7, 2003
"Oh please Sir... I'm so sorry... Please..." She half sobbed, half choked as she saw the servant, still in the hall, slumped against the bathroom door. Tugging on his sleeve, she continued, "Have you seen 
anyone about? Sir?"  At the last tug the man toppled to the floor, his eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling, unmoving. Mariette's jaw dropped as she looked down at him. Dear god, he had the same tent in his pants and... oh dear god...  Mariette opened her mouth wide and screamed at the top of her lungs.

RE: Great Balls And Fire - May 24, 2003
Half listening to Aidan and Lady Kathryn, Mariette heard an odd sound... something rolling across the wood floor? She peered down and meeped as she saw the little silver ball. Immediately clapping a 
hand over her mouth to silence herself, she also clutched her internal muscles, hoping to feel the balls inside of her, suddenly realizing she hadn't noticed them in quite a while. Feeling nothing, another small meep escaped the hand over her mouth. Her eyes flew back and forth from the ball on the floor to Lady 
Kathryn's laughing face, back to the fall and over to Aidan's slightly pinkened face, then back to Lady Kathryn again. 

Over a shoulder and through the woods... - June 11, 2003
Mariette oomphed as she was casually tossed over a shoulder. The blanket, already over her head, fell even further forward, nearly completely obstructing her view. She tried to pull her hands out to at least draw the blanket out so that she could keep an eye out.. who knew, John might be up and roaming about... but she was fairly tightly mummified inside of the blanket and could do little more than wiggle against the man's back.

"H- H- H- Hey!" Mariette finally managed as she bounced along atop the jogging man's shoulder. "St- St- St- St- St- St- Stop!"

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Michael

Known to most people around town as Michael, the Vicar came from London a few months ago under strange circumstances.  He arrived in town disheveled and claiming to have been attacked on the road.  At that time there hadn't been bandits or any other activity of that sort for years previous, and only sporadically since. 

He stands about 6'0" tall, black hair, and blue eyes.  His nose was obviously broken at one time, and when he arrived in town his hair was long and unrulycausing some people to talk.  The talk died down slowly but some still wonder about him.

Post Excerpts:

Enter the Vicar - May 21, 2003
"Damn this rain," Michael growled as he stepped up to the door of the Hartman house. He was soaking wet, though it would make it easier to convince people he had come from the town and not some other direction. Some of the people here were just too nosey and didn't know how to keep out of others business, even if it wasn't exactly legal. The people here were definately in a commotion, oh well, he thought, shrugging his shoulders, they could use his work then.

RE: dee dee dee dum - June 10, 2003
While Michael was not in a daze like before, he was contemplating how to work this to his advantage. Shrugging slightly whan he saw that the woman could at
least stand on her own, he spoke up, "Miss, I am Michael, the towns Vicar. I can assure you, you need not worry about anyone or anything while I am around,"
anyone else that is, he added silently. "I'm sure that, what was your name again?" he turned asking the butler, "Oh yes, Geoffry here will find your bag for you. If it was brought in it should be around here somewhere."
 

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Montague McCody 

Major-General The Honourable Sir Montague McCody,  Marquess Sheraton, is the  distinguished recipient of the Star of the Order of St. Patrick, Victoria Cross, KCIE Queen's Medal for Afghanistan Candahar 1841-42, Sutlej Medal Moodke 1845, India Pegu 1852-53, and Baltic Medal 1854-55.  At present, the Major-General is in Egypt on assignment by Her Majesty Queen Victoria, to oversee the 
reorganization of the Egyptian Army.

Monty, as he is affectionately called by family and close acquaintances, was born in County Tipperary, Ireland, in the ancestral Castle Sheraton, to his father, General Malachy McCody, Duke of Ranelagh and his mother,  Duchess Rosaleen Reid-McCody, of County McCoy.  At age five, Monty was breeched.  It was then that he became aware of Aidan Campbell and realized, even at so tender an age, that the two were destined to be together through eternity.  He watched over her and kept her out of harm's way as they explored the vast Campbell estate at Cahill and his own family's estate at Sheraton.  Their love for each other matured as they grew.

When Monty turned twelve, his father was assigned to an overseas post, and his mother accompanied her husband.  Monty was awarded a scholarship at the Duke of York's Royal Military School at Chelsea in England where he was sent away to board and be schooled in a proper education in a military atmosphere, with much time devoted to pre-service training.  He enlisted into the British Army at age sixteen and, contrary to popular custom of purchasing commissions in Montague's specialized training, his commissions were earned by his merit. 

He is a handsome man with a healthy complexion, piercing steel blue eyes, and enchanting cheek  dimples that deepen with his resolve.  A thick crop of curly sandy brown hair is highlighted by the salting of distinguished grey and red highlights.  He is tall in stature, several inches past six-feet in height, with a solid constitution that reflects a well-disciplined life. 

Monty is exceedingly elegant and quick-witted, thus capable of bringing a warm blush to the cheeks of the most proper of ladies with but a single, innocently-orchestrated comment.  He is stern yet fair, with a dry sense of humour which sometimes escapes detection by all but the most discerning.  He is scholarly and an avid reader and strategist.  His high sense of honor, spine of steel, and unfailing duty to country and beloved wife, Aidan, are among his many attributes.  He is a noble and polite gentleman, rarely outspoken and careful to weigh all facets of a given situation before formulating and offering an opinion. 

Still Monty is an adventurous man, first to volunteer for the most dangerous military assignments and equally as adventurous in the boudoir with his loving wife, Aidan, to whom he is her totally devoted husband, lover, mentor, and soulmate.  He is master of his profession, master of his life, master of his home, and master of his Aidan.  While in Egypt he recently purchased an antiquated copy of the "Kama Sutra", which he plans to present to his wife at some point after she has finished reading and reporting on his latest, intimately naughty gift to her.

Post Excerpts:

Past Letter to My Wife, Aidan - April 13, 2003
Amongst Aidan’s belongings in the tapestry valise was a traveler’s writing chest given to her by her usband, Monty, upon his return from a military expedition to India. The exotic rosewood chest, with its ornately carved animal scenes, ivory inlays, and bands of brass and iron, housed her Venetian glass writing stylus with brass nibs, a bottle of indigo ink, seals and wax, blotter, and Penny Black and Penny Red postage stamps in its upper, velvet-lined tray. 

The middle tray held a plain wooden box with a poem of George Gordon, Lord Byron’s etched upon its lid -- "Pen" -- "Oh! nature’s noblest gift--my grey ggoose quill; Slave of my thoughts, obedient to my will. Torn from thy parent bird to form a pen. That mighty instrument of little men!"  It was in this box that Aidan kept her stationery consisting of best-quality, cream-white linen writing paper and matching envelopes. 

The chest also held a false bottom--a secret compartment accessible only through a series of internal maneuvers. Here, Aidan kept several of Monty’s earlier letters, lovingly tied with a wide, crimson satin bow. 

Recollections of My Aidan (Part 1) - May 19, 2003
I slid my hand inside the bodice of her sky blue lace and satin gown, finding a nipple hardened from the delayed passion I had teased her with this day. She gasped quietly as the texture of my hand against the soft flesh of her bosom excited her further. All day long, each time I ordered her to lift her dress to ensure she was following my orders regarding no undergarments, her cunny was wet and ready. She confessed later that it was an order she eagerly obeyed. I tugged the firm nipple to tease her further and then leaned down to her ear and whispered, "After the dinner guests leave you will faint from the passions I will pull from your body and soul." The scamp pleated her skirt between her fingers and lifted it just a bit high to tease me back. Muttering under my breath, I said, "I only wish there had been some way to avoid this final farewell dinner." Hearing the door knocker announcing the first guests, I removed my hand.

The second unopened letter within - May 22, 2003
My Beloved wife

As the days and weeks go by and My time here in Egypt grows shorter, you are in My thoughts most always. I see your hazel eyes and peer into the depths to see the woman that has given herself to Me in all ways. The love that lights your inner-self motivates Me and your praise and well wishes sustain Me in the trials I have faced.

When I close My eyes at night I see and feel your arms as they hold Me close to you, and I feel your warmth as it radiates between us and makes us as one.

I see your alabaster flesh and the sweet, wonderful hills and valleys of your body as you open yourself to Me and I feel the caress of your fingers on My back as we make love. I feel the power flowing between us as we become one in so many ways.

You are a rock on which I anchor Myself and you nurture My soul as I go about My daily routines. I don’t know what My life would have been like if I hadn’t met you. You bring a joy that is hard to describe.

Know that I think of you often and can feel you deep in My mind and in My soul. I look forward to the time when we are able to lay in each others arms and feel all the love that exists between us. You are My light, My rock, and My love.

Your Loving Husband, Partner and Master
Montague

Aidan's First Lesson - August 9, 2003
Monty smiled as he enjoyed the site of his Aidan kneeling as ordered. She was a wonderful wife, and good companion. Now she was to be his slave as well. Removing the golden object from the silk wrappings he looked closely to make sure that he had it aligned properly. As he placed it around her neck, Monty spoke, "This is a torc. It is a symbol of my ownership of you. Many will think it a rather plain necklace but it is a reminder to you of your status as a slave. You will not remove it without my specific permission. Is that understood?"
 

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Richard Hartman

Richard is a fairly tall man, standing just under 6 and a half feet tall.  Broad of shoulder and with a strong build.  Contrary to the 'norm' he seems to stay quite fit, and his bronzed skin tells a tale of being outside quite 
often. 

Normally found wearing clothes somewhat more 'casual' than most, his preferred daytime suit being a sleeveless vest and black leggings.  His blond hair grows out in quite a few waves, falling almost to the tops of his shoulders.  Hazel eyes watch from a somewhat more youthful face than one might think...the eyes though, seem to know more than they let on, always watching and waiting, but for what?

His birth is somewhat of a mystery, though since his father was never married,  its assumed he is illegitimate.  He was raised out of 'the ton' rather among the middle class.  He learned how to work hard, and do things on his own without relying on servant to tend his every need.  On his 18th birthday he was brought to his father's home and such began his lessons and introduction to 'the ton'. 

At 21 he was promised to be married, a last act of good will from his father.  A few years later the marriage was consecrated and consummated and not long after that his father died of mysterious circumstances.  Leaving quite the fortune, as well as his titles to his only son, Richard.

Now, the Lord of Hartman House and the surrounding grounds, as well as owner of quite a few lands rented out to bring income, he lives a leisurely life.  The odd thing is, he dissapears at times and noone knows exactly where to. He leaves his home for a week or so, returning only with some odd souvenier or some such thing.

Post Excerpts:

What the heck was that! - March 15, 2003
What the heck was that! Someone screaming from downstairs. A woman's voice definately....and here he was bathing, damn. Jumping out of the tub, water splashing everywhich way, he does pause a moment saying a silent 'sorry' to Mariette for having to clean up even more of a mess.   Richard grabs the nearest thing to cover himself up, luckily it was a towel, he quickly wraps it around his midsection, still dripping water he glances around for a weapon of some sort.  There it was again! Another scream, he runs into his sitting room,  grabbing the rifle from over the mantleplace and shoving the pistol into the wrap of the towel.

Oh Hell... - May 5, 2003
Opening the door into the hall..he quickly scans the hallway before making his way around through the hall and out the front door. Not bothering with a cloak he just pushes out into the rain, moving around the back of the house and hailing for a stableboy.  "BOY! Ah there you are, get to town on my fastest horse, bring back the doctor and the constable....no no questions! do it and hurry, we will be expecting you soon."

With that done he makes his way back into the house, sighing at the fact he'll be dripping all over the house once more but resigned to that fact, he makes his way up the front stairs, planning to meet  his wife in the bedroom and get changed, she had rung the dinner bell after all, thats most likely where she'll be.

Drip, drip, drip - May 13, 2003
Drip, drip, drip, went the water, falilng from his once again soaked clothing onto the floor...he sighs taking the jacket his wife handed to him and trying to keep it mostly dry...Looking it over he tries not to make a face, he knows that its important to her that he at least attempt to be proper, unfortunately for them both he usually 
can't completely pull it off, slipping into some kind of rough slang from his street days.

A Dog's Life - August 9, 2003
Laughing softly and shaking his head...why the pout, she knew it did him in..."Wouldn't something else be more company darling, I know you are left to your own devices more often than you'd like, but thats why we have Mariette, isn't she an attentive enough 'pet'?" He asks as a last attempt to steer the conversation elsewhere

Richard, confronted with the pout and enormus eyes of course must give in eventually, any others of married stature could attest a woman's eyes could melt a man. Grabbing his wife as she skids around almost toppling them both he laughs and shakes his head...."Allright darling, allright, we shall see who this mutt belongs to and if it has a home, if not we don't have much of a choice....or rather it seems I don't" He straightens his wife and continues on toward where the sound of howling echoed from
 

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