Afternoon lovemaking between the Winchester parents was not a regular occurence, so Ianthe savored the closeness of her husband, the smell of his skin, tobacco odor clinging to his hair. She too recalled how, during their youth, no one could stop the pair from dashing off to a bedroom or closet to satisfy their physical cravings.

How did they drift so far from that carefree life?

Because marriage is a sensible endeavor, thought Ianthe, answering her own question. But when did good sense equal boredom and lovelessness?

“We are good together Ianthe... an indomitable pair... and I have missed you.”

But then those words from Thomas’s lips… all was forgiven, and Venice would be a new start. She knew why he came, business mixing with his desire to see Lola again for whatever reason she would never understand. But to bring that up would indeed ruin the moment.

She sighed when he stroked her long, dark hair. Kissing his shoulder as his arms were wrapped around her, Ianthe said, “I think I’ll redecorate the palazzo. Everything is so jumbled and the space so cluttered. Perhaps I’ll contact Thomas Chippendale Jr. and have some pieces commissioned - English with an Venetian flair."

At least she’d moved onto something that would keep her busy and was no longer trying to redecorate him.

@William

“My dearest wife... do not decorate this fucking place... go out find a palazzo worthy of the Winchester clan, we will buy it... this place is a mere rental property... and does not suit my needs...” and just what were his needs? If anyone knew it would be her... “I know you wish to spend my money... and you have fucked me now... so why not spend the money wisely...” and he smirked at her, then slapped her ass.

“Besides, I have missed you, bitch... where had my Ianthe gone? Was Daniel that good of a fuck to replace me?” and he looked at her from the bed as she hovered over him now. His blue eyes seem to knock upon the very door to her soul.

@Chops

Now Thomas was speaking her language - the one of money and prestige. She felt a little less charmed by Venice until he’d suggested they buy their own palazzo.

And now?

“Really? That’s a wonderful idea, husband. Once it’s done we can invite the Digbys and the Pickerings to visit us. And perhaps even the Earl of Halifax’s family would come down to summer?”

As he slapped her pert derriere, to which she gave him a growl and a kiss, she continued, the wheels turning:

“It must be in the Dorsoduro on one of the highest hills with the very best view.” Ianthe waved her hand in the air as through stroking the landscape in her mind. And oh Thomas if it is truly ours then it must be a Venetian palace and not English. No, not at all especially to keep its value.”

When Thomas mentioned Daniel, however, Ianthe’s expression changed, and a frown formed upon her pink lips, and she stopped her exuberant planning over the new piece of real estate. Did he have to be so competitive, even as they lay there together? Lord Winchester never stopped scheming and building and social climbing and conquering, even in his own goddamned bed. It was as though he would not be satisfied until he possessed her very soul, along with her heart and her womb.

“You weren’t around Thomas. And you’ve never been one to indulge my mind.” There, she said it. Daniel had provided her the emotional stability she required. Sex was more a manifestation of that bond. Did she tell him about Primrose? Did he already know?

Ianthe could not say it; the shame was too great in order for her to utter the words aloud.

@Thomas Winchester

She started about how good his idea was, then inviting people... Digbys and the Pickerings... and his nose crinkled. “If we must... but definitely the Earl... I can always use his vote in Parliament... maybe he’d like some *special* attention...” and he smirked wickedly.

And as she spoke of the Sestieri, he pushed her off him and laughed. “Bitch, I should have known...” and he walked to the cabinet... and took a glass down and showed it to her. And if she nodded, he would pour hers first, then his own... the amount a bit more than hers. As he walked back to the bed, he held the glass out. “Yes dear... verily our own portion of Venice...”

As he stood there naked as the day he was born. He gazed upon his beautiful wife... “You are so fucking intelligent... remember the days when we’d work a room together? That’s how we got the shares of the Georgia prison iron contract back then. You could talk a man into divulging anything... that takes brains... and skill... so do not say I did not indulge yer mind. For years, I asked you to join me in my endeavors... but you were too busy with the children... and then later, you just wanted his cock cause I was away... and yes, because of Yijun Liao.” That southern accent not a bit heavy, and he drank the glass empty, and tossed it over his shoulder. “Fucking admit it...” as he crawled back onto the bed.

Ianthe was the sort of woman, who in private was as devious and warped as he was... but in public, more refined... proper... which was not a flaw in character as far as Thomas was concerned, but an asset.


@Chops

Ianthe sighed and closed her eyes. “Anything you want, husband. The Earl, the Duke… the King,” she said with a wave of her hand as though the nobility of England would just line up to visit if they owned their own palazzo. Post-coital she was often this dreamy and serene.

She sat up for a moment, nodding for a glass of whatever poison he chose and accepted it gratefully from his hand. As she watched him, admiring his form even after all of these years, she began to smile, a one of recognition over memories long forgotten, which only grew as the story progressed.

“If you want me involved in your business…” She shrugged as though she hadn’t been a witch to him for the last ten to fifteen years. “I’m all yours.” A coy smile followed this to let him know she was teasing and then she tsked over him tossing the glass behind him like some Italian barbarian.

“We will secure the real estate and then throw a giant party. You leave all of the details to me, but when the liquor flows, the money will flow quicker, my love.” She sipped the smoky liquid as though to illustrate.

Ianthe had never taken this side of Thomas for granted - the side that valued her mind. While he was quick to slip his cock into a pretty and young cunt, he bored quickly of women who were dull. Who didn’t, she thought with a snort? Still, she felt a bit of gratitude that he thought the romantic, verse-loving Callister maiden was, not just an ideal domestic partner, but a business one too.

The English Rose had already killed Sir Barclay. If anyone stood in the way of their fortune and happiness, she most certainly would do so again.

“Whatever you need, you just guide the way, and I’ll be there in heartbeat, darling,” she said, gently touching her nose to his. The warmth of his skin under the covers was more inviting than any fire that warmed a chilly London sitting room on a storm-filled afternoon.

@Thomas Winchester

Thomas flipped the sheet and blanket from her naked form and laid his head in her lap his face toward her belly, just lying there, silent, listening to her breathe, watching the rising and fall of her chest and stomach.

Moments later, green eyes veered upward as she spoke... “Do I want you involved in my business? IF I did not, I would tell you so; correct? But if you enter my world, you must be the bitch I know you can my dear... just not to me...” he chuckled as he kissed her thigh lightly.

“Whatever you need, you just guide the way, and I’ll be there in heartbeat, darling,”

Thomas smirked wickedly. “Get us a home... schedule your fucking party... and invite that asshole Earl... I have a few business propositions going with a seamstress, if Rinaldo d’Este don’t fuck it up... and a winemaker wanting global distribution...” And he laughed... “At least the fucking weather here in Venice is better... I am so glad to get away from London’s bitchy weather... Plus the women are better looking here...” and rotating his head slightly, he bit the inside of her thigh, enough to get her attention, but not to mark the skin.



@Chops

Thomas lay across Ianthe, his warm, solid head resting gently upon her torso, close to her supple hips which had birthed such fine children. She stroked his hair as though he were her first born, her left knee rising up, foot planted on the bed.

“I always thought you wanted me to be a cordial and civil wife, the elegant and poised Lady Winchester. If I knew I had carte blanche to be a bitch, I would have been more rude to all of your business partners.” She laughed to think of how carefree it would be - entering a room and not giving a fig about what all of those ludicrously rich men felt about her. She shivered with pleasure at Thomas’s bite and rapped him upon the head with her knuckles, but lightly as she’d do to one of her sons.

He listed off his dealings, her Callister brown eyes interested but under heavy lids from the alcohol and the romp on the bed.

"Plus the women are better looking here...”

Ianthe sucked her teeth at the second bite… how delicious his tongue would be between it was between her folds, but she enjoyed the heady feeling of anticipation just the same. Why couldn’t every day be as blissful as this one, she mused? Thomas was so lean, hungry and so Goddamned charming. But Ianthe was tired of keeping silent as he chased every petticoat in London, Paris, Rome… anywhere he happened to roam.

“Thomas, you know I am a proud woman, but it hurts like Hell when you cheat on me.”

There, she said it. She’d nearly convinced herself that at least Ette was here in their home, and she could still keep an eye upon him.
But the good Lord only knows what kind of women are out there and what kind of disease they carry, she thought bleakly, recalling even so-called honorable men, her father’s friends who she always had assumed were so distinguished, falling victim to that specific pox.

She did not pull away though. Not when his lips were on such a delicate area - she wouldn’t give up that feeling of closeness for twice their grand fortune.

@Thomas Winchester