The Old Rose Garden

A Victorian Romance and Erotica short story
by Lady T. L. Jennings

Shift.

Pure disbelief painted my brother’s face.

“You are doing what?” he said, his eyes wide in shock.
“I am going to marry the gardener,” I repeated calmly and could not help laughing at his surprised face.

*

Shift.

“And do you, Thomas Neville Thackery, take Georgina Amelia Lucinda Griffieth to be your lawful wedded wife?”

For a short moment I was sickly convinced that he would say “no”. I stopped breathing; however, he only turned his head from the priest and looked into my eyes with a small smile that curved his lips.
“I do,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

*

Shift.

I was laughing and running through a beautiful rose garden that was filled with flowering roses in all the colours of the rainbow. I looked over my shoulder, knowing that I was being chased.

“Really, Georgina! You are supposed to be a sensible and married woman now!” I heard Tom calling after me from somewhere behind me.

He tried to sound stern, but I could hear the amusement in his voice. I continued running, my feet finding their way along the familiar paths, while I tried to catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder. In an attempt to lose him, I dove in between two large rosebushes and ran swiftly along a narrow path that led under a garden pergola that was buried underneath a cascade of flowering climbing rock roses.

Once again I threw a quick glance over my shoulder; however, as I did so, I did not look forward, and I ran directly into his arms unexpectedly.

“Got you!” he said with a triumphant laugh.

“You did,” I agreed, slightly out of breath, and I melted in his warm arms as he embraced me.

“Did you not know that it is forbidden to run in the rose garden?” he mumbled and kissed my hair softly.

“You made that up,” I accused him and tried to move away from him; however, he would not let me get away. Instead, he pulled me closer, and kissed and gently nibbled my earlobe. It tickled a little, but I also found it rather exciting, something that I knew he was perfectly aware of. I shivered despite the warm summer day.

“There is a punishment for running in my garden,” he continued and left a trail of soft kisses along my throat. I felt his grip around my waist increase slightly, and one of his hands travelled downwards and stroked my lower back. My heart beat faster, which was not entirely a result of having been running.

“There is not.” I giggled in protest. “Besides, technically it is my garden and not yours! The old rose garden belongs to my family’s estate, after all.”

“No one can own a garden, you silly girl. It belongs to the person who takes care of it, of course. Everyone knows that,” Tom mumbled, while his kisses had led him dangerously close to my bosom.

I was wearing a thin summer dress embroidered with small flowers in Pomona green muslin, and underneath it I wore a petticoat, a simple chemise and a linen corset; however, I could feel my nipples chafing against the textile. As I was gradually becoming more and more aroused, my breathing became unsteady and shallow.

Without being able to stop myself, I pressed my body gently against his, and I heard him moan quietly in response, while his fingertips stroke the soft fabric of my dress and he unconsciously rubbed his thumb against one of my nipples. It grew hard under his touch. I let my hands glide through his brown-red hair and gently but reluctantly I forced his head up towards my own face before his kisses would lead him all the way to my breasts. He growled softly in protest.

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Copyright © 2013 Lady T. L. Jennings