Everybody Loves Gerard Emerton (pg-13)

[countrymouse]

Disclaimer: This includes mild violence, punches may be thrown, and rude language, such as "Fussock" and "Shag Bag". Oh my! I will post chapter by chapter in this thread.



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…George IV ruled by proxy in place of his father, the Eifel Tower would not grace the skyline of Paris for another sixty years, one of the greatest works of fiction was about to be written by a young woman called Mary…

“... they have an exclusive agreement with Fitzgibbon’s fabric house to only sell this pattern to them.” Emily Stickles said humbly. She held the rapt attention of her audience, a gaggle of girls her age and younger.

“I love the white and blue leaf pattern, such an attractive fabric.” Ms. Brightley chimed in.

“Yes it is quite eye-catching isn’t it?.” Emily agreed.

“The ruffled collar is quite exquisite.” Added Ms. Winche.

“Yes, it is! It's called a double-edge ruffle, they have a specialist who does all of them by hand.”

“I have a dress with a similar design except that…”

“Mine is of much higher quality, so nice of you to say Ms. Skawen!”

“Oh my friends hush and do look over at Freddie Chenoweth,” Ms. Winche whispered. “She is positively throwing herself at that soldier. Shameless!”

The collective of young gossips turned to look at the girl Ms. Winche had singled out. Frederica Chenoweth was half a head shorter than Emily with a spare, gracile figure. Emily knew that some men found this petiteness attractive but if you asked Emily, she believed Freddie was too thin.

Freddie giggled unfettered, a high-sing song noise. She had come to the party in a summery yellow dress with a golden floral pattern. It was an opulent garment but if you asked Emily, she suspected Freddie had obtained it from a store that sold outdated fashion at a bargain.

The girl was really enjoying her wedge of cake, eagerly shoveling her second helping into her mouth. When they attended primary school in Bath Freddie was made fun of for her thin as a rake physique, Emily noted that as an adult Freddie was able to devour as much sugary food as she liked and not gain a kilogram.

She wasn’t jealous, but if you asked Emily Stickles, the way Freddie lorded her gifted metabolism over others was quite distasteful.

What turned Emily Stickles' mood foul however was not the stick in a dress, but who the stick was talking and laughing with. A tall, devilishly handsome man in a finely pressed naval uniform. He was meticulously groomed, with clean nails and intoxicating perfume. His mustache was styled in the popular fashion and dyed to cover any gray he may have acquired in his thirty years.

His only flaw, besides perhaps being too handsome, would be that his hair was a bit too long and combed into a high curly pompadour. It was considered a bit vulgar, but if you asked Emily, she found the man’s rebellious statement to be very appealing.

“Gerard Emerton.” Emily squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest. What she didn’t say out loud was that this was her Gerard Emerton. “This will not stand. Come with me girls.”

Ms. Brightley, Ms. Winche, Ms. Skawen, and two others fell in step with Emily. They glided across the room like women who had spent their youth, in finishing school.

Freddie was masticating on a spoonful of pastry when Emily and her coven approached her. They scowled as one at the willowy girl. Frederica looked up from her feast and caught the eye of each girl briefly, settling on Emily.

“Why are you all staring at me?” Freddie asked befuddled. She could sense something was amiss but didn’t know what it was about.

“You whore!” That was enough to cause Emily’s mood to boil over. How dare Freddie feign ignorance over a matter this serious! Before she realized what she was doing, Emily Stickles clenched a fist and drew back her arm.

[countrymouse]

2

Emily hesitated, unsure what she was going to do. Then she snatched the Vanilla Sponge cake from Freddie’s hand and pressed it into the girl’s comely face.

Frederica arched her head, flailing her arms as she was pushed backward. She blinked through the butter icing and looked down at her dress. “Why did you…”

Emily wasted no time taking a brisk step towards Freddie, clutching a handful of her dark hair, and thumping her readied fist squarely into the credulous girl's stomach.

“G… guuuh!” Emily didn’t know how to throw a punch but it was enough to drive the wind from the elfin girl's body and lift her to her toes. In reflex, Freddie’s already large brown eyes grew to twice their normal size. The waifish girl raised her arms as she inclined at the waist, forcing her to spew out the pastry she was eating in a sticky arc.

“Ew gross!” Emily wailed. The white goo spattered onto her face, bust, and down the front of her costly new dress. She was on the verge of tears as she feverishly attempted to clean the paste from her bosom but her efforts just made things worse. “Why did you spit on me!”

“Why did I…?” Freddie said through sobs, she kowtowed on the ground with her arms wrapped around her belly. “Why did you punch me in the stomach?”

“You spat all over me!” Emily cried.

“You punched me in the stomach!” Frederica wheezed.

“You ruined my dress!?” Screamed Emily.

“Because you punched me in the stomach!” Frederica returned.

“Well…” That logic stopped Emily for a moment. Then she screamed, “… You are having relations with my fiancé!”

A crowd was steadily gathering around the pair of fighting girls. At this revelation, there was a collective “ooh!”

“I didn’t even know you were engaged!” Freddie yelled back, she had managed to get up to one knee, “Who is your fiancé?”

“Why, this man here, Mr. Emerton!” Emily indicated Gerard.

“Cheers!” Gerard said, raising a red glass of ratafia.

“What?” Frederica shouted “You promiscuous slag! Gerard is to marry me!”

There was a collective gasp from the crowd. Elderly Mrs. Beerling was the last to put it together “So that handsome young man has agreed to marry both girls? Is that permitted? I wouldn’t mind having a young stud like that too…”

“Oh, dear!” Gerard said with false contrition. “My web of lies has been untangled! However, shall I hold my head up in public?”

Gerard struck a proud pose lifting his square jaw high. “Like this, I think, what say, you Mr. Boucher?”

Mr. Boucher, who stood beside Gerard, laughed, “With your reputation Mr. Emerton it’s a wonder why you keep getting invited to these parties.”

“My reputation is why I keep getting invited to parties is it not?” Gerard returned.

Mr. Boucher erupted with laughter, “I can only hope you befoul one of the Chadbourne girls one day my boy, they all studied ballet!”

Frederica was back on her feet, fury overcoming injury, and moving towards Emily. The look she gave Emily made the taller blonde shrink away and rethink her actions. “Now Freddie… perhaps I…”

[countrymouse]

3

Emily’s song changed once she saw Frederica wasn’t just going to walk away and cry. “Perhaps I acted disproportionately Freddie, I’m sure Jessamyn’s launderers will be able to repair the dress. ”

“I think nothing of your blasted dress!” Frederica closed the distance between them. She laid her hands on each poofy shoulder of Emily’s blouse and wrenched down. The stylish Juliet sleeves were ripped from collar to cuff and then clean off of the tall blonde’s arms.

“Ah, you cow!” Emily’s jaw dropped in disbelief. She was appalled at the damage done to her precious dress. She retaliated by snatching up the frontage of Frederica’s full-length skirt. She held it with both fists, then rent the skirt up the middle.

The gossamer material split open from the bottom trim all the way to Freddie’s belly button, making a spectacle of the girl’s delicate legs and exquisite tummy. Frederica’s usually fetching face screwed up into a mask of ill-temper. She hauled back her hand and brought it viciously across Emily’s fine cheek. “You Swag Bellied Bitch!”

“Please girls,” Gerard said casually between sips of Ratafia “Don’t fight over me, I’m not worth it.”

WHAP! The slap turned Emily’s head leaving a burning red mark on her pretty face and sent her stumbling. Just as she righted herself she found that another small open hand was sailing towards her.

WHAP! There was a loud crack as Freddie’s palm struck the side of the blonde’s face. This too twisted Emily’s head to the side. She blinked, stupefied, putting a hand on her smoldering cheek, a growing passion for slapping that little imp overwhelming her reason.

THWACK! Emily turned back and let her own hand fly, catching her target on the left. It sent the girl sideways for a step. “You look like death’s head on a mop handle!”

Freddie blinked tears from her eyes but was quickly back again, smacking Emily’s hair loose “Duchess of limbs!”

“Hell-born brat!” THWACK!

“Fussock!” WHAP!

“I say, young man?” Mr. Boucher addressed Gerard as he poured them both another serving of Ratafia. “With such delicate skin, how long do you think they can keep this up?”

“Shag bag!” THWACK!

“Back biter!” WHAP!

Gerard swirled the liquid in his glass and sniffed it, “Well, each of them kept me up all night.”

“Blowsabella!” THWACK!

“Gundiguts!” WHAP!

“Shabbaroon!” THWACK!

“Bull Calf!” WHAP!

The two young women huffed, glaring at each other through tears. There was a silent agreement between them, that neither could withstand another harsh slap to the face. So they both withdrew to their corners, Emily to her friends and Frederica to hers. Sobbing and rubbing their flaming cheeks, but keeping a watchful eye on each other.

“Oh, poor Emily are you alright?” Cried Ms. Brightley.

“That unlicked cub couldn’t hurt me,” Emily said through messy tears.

“I’ve never seen girls fight like that.” exclaimed Ms. Skawen clearly invigorated by the sight, “Well, you whupped her good Ms. Stickles! She hasn’t an ounce of steel in her!”

“She thinks she shines everyone down.” Said Emily getting back into her role. Then she boldly called over at Freddie. “Cow-handed, Whey-faced Berk!”

“What was that?” Freddie was only a few feet away, and she turned sharply at Emily’s boast.

“Oh no!” Emily pleaded as Freddie strode toward her with renewed fury.

-----------------------------------
Glossary of Regency Era Insults

Back Biter = gossip
Berk = C word
Blowsabella = poor
Bull Calf = fat
Cow-Handed = Clumsy
Death’s head on a mop handle = Skinny
Duchess of Limbs = Tall, awkward
Fussock = fat
Gundiguts = fat
Hell born = lewd
Shabbaroon = poor
Shag Bag = poor
Swag Bellied = fat
Unlicked Cub = Rude
Whey-face = plain

[countrymouse]

4

“This is a receipt for that sucker punch! ” Freddie pulled Emily’s head down and ruthlessly thrust a knee up into the girl’s belly.

“Oh no! Poor Emily!” Ms. Winche said worriedly.

“Huuuurg!” A grunt came from somewhere deep inside Emily’s slender frame. The impact of Freddie’s knee against her soft, fragile stomach was solid. Thudding.

Emily was absolutely gobsmacked, bowed over at the waist, moon-eyed, open-mouthed, bare arms thrashing. Tears mixed with the black powder on her eyelashes causing dark runnels to run down her cheeks.

Unfortunately, Emily was ideally positioned for Frederica to plant her foot on the bottom hem of her dress and deal out the harshest slap yet.

WHAP! The tall girl took the blow full on the face. Her whole body spun around and she pitched forward. Her white muslin skirt did not.

RIIPP! As Emily stumbled about the rich fabric of her skirt came away in a long spiral. First revealing the girl's skinny calves, then her milky white thighs, then her very naked bum. The lower portion of her dress parted ways just below the breast line.

Mr. Boucher admired “That girl looks like she tossed up with a flamingo for a pair of legs and lost!”

Gerard stroked his mustache, “Still. The flamingo is a lovely bird is not?”

As Emily reached out for balance Ms. Brightley instinctively hopped out of the way. Brightley quickly realized her mistake as Emily flew by her. “Oh no, I’m sorry Em!”

“I entreat you, beloved, lay hold of me!” She pleaded to Gerard Emerton, surely her own fiancé would save her. Instead, Gerard dodged gracefully out of her path as Emily plowed through the drink tray.

“Oh pardon me, Ms. Stickles,” Gerard said rescuing the bottle of Ratafia and giving Emily a light smack on the bum. “That’s a good girl now.”

“Oof!” Emily belly-flopped roughly onto the top of the cart sending dozens of various alcoholic beakers to the floor. She faced a new crisis now as the cart continued to roll uncontrolled with her riding on it Emily bellowed “Aaahhh! Help me!”

Preferring not to fall, Emily held on for dear life as the cart rolled and turned as if possessed. She managed to pass by everyone who might want to see her bum, kicking and screaming.

Once she gained a modicum of control over the cart she had only two options, both unfavorable. She could aim herself at the servants who were bringing in the next course of appetizers. Or alternately try to stop herself by steering into the doors leading to the back lawn.

[Dormouse]

3

Berk = C word

Not so much Regency as Cockney rhyming slang, and still very much in use today. It comes from Berkeley Hunt, and is pronounced to rhyme with "kirk".

[countrymouse]

Not so much Regency as Cockney rhyming slang, and still very much in use today. It comes from Berkeley Hunt, and is pronounced to rhyme with "kirk".

I'm not going to pretend I understand cockney, but it's very clever. I believe I have heard Berkeley Hunt a few times on TV.

[countrymouse]

5
“Faith! Somebody help me!” Emily pleaded as she lay on her belly riding a runaway drink cart. Her blonde hair fell down her face in two golden curly ribbons. The pretty girl's cheeks were scarlet from the many slaps she had endured to the face during her fight with Frederica. A brawl she had foolishly started herself.

Worse than her tender cheeks was the demise of her beautiful new Jessamyn stitched dress. her prized gown was little more than the shoulder straps and a scrap of cloth covering her bosom. Everything below her breasts has been stripped away and she had lost her stockings and shoes as well.

Emily sailed from one end of the room to the other. Her cute round bottom on exhibit, floundering her bare limbs as though she were a beached seal. Much to the delight of the party attendees. It did not escape her notice that she received more than a few stiff smacks to her bare derrière as she rolled by. “Ow! Ow! Stop it!”

“Ms. Stickles is heading for the door!” One of the house staff members cried out. “Get it open post haste so she isn’t injured!”

“No don’t open the d… ahhh!” Instead of crashing into the wall to stop her momentum, she rolled unimpeded through the open doorway.
The young lady felt the warm spring air heat up her backside as her cart was put out into the afternoon air.

“I say Mr. Emerton?” inquired Mr. Boucher, “how far do think Ms. Stickles will get on that cart of hers?”

“That sounds like a wager!“ Gerard slammed a wad of paper money on their drink tray, after theirs was rudely destroyed they had commandeered a new cart and were taking it with them as they followed Emily’s adventures. He offered his hand to his elder “Ten pounds says she won’t get past the first set of steps. What day you Old Man?“

“I think I’m about to lose ten pounds.” Agreed Mr. Boucher “Double or nothing she gets onto the grass.”

The two friends shook hands.

“Aaah!” The bare-assed lass rolled out onto the paved walkway that led through the outside sitting area, down a series of steps, across a small overpass that bridged between the upper and lower areas, and finally onto the back lawn.

It would be easy enough to just let go of the cart but The bottomless blonde had no idea how she could land safely and couldn’t will herself to loosen her grip. As the cart spun about Emily caught sight of a new dilemma.

“Oh Sard the stairs!” The cart tipped forward and jostled violently as it rumbled down the first set of steps. Somehow she managed to hold on but was looking at the house and not where she was going.

Emily rolled across a small flat area of the walkway and then hit the second set of steps. The cart veered to the side and hit the concrete Greek-inspired side railing, launching the bare assed blonde girl high into the air.

RIP! To Emily’s abject horror, as she took flight over the pillared railing, she became aware that her tattered half-blouse was snagged to the cart. The muslin fabric was not made for such stress and tore free of her body.

For a brief, glorious, moment Emily hung naked in the air, blonde hair floating around her lovely face, her slender willowy figure wrapped in nothing but the clothes we are all born in.

Emily completed a clumsy backflip to clear the railing. The tall Junoesque girl made a big clumsy splash as her lanky body plummeted into the opaque water below.

She pushed out of the murky depths with her head up and back arched, flipping her hair back as though she were a mermaid. Beads of water made the lustrous, satiny skin of her trim belly and hips glisten in the afternoon sun. She had an even fashionably pallid complexion that suited her natural golden hair. The cold air ran across Emily’s pert, plentiful breasts so that they swelled in salute.

“My word, what a figure! Maybe the finest pies in France.” Mr. Boucher handed over twenty pounds, “I don’t suppose my losses would buy me details of how Ms. Stickles was in the sack? At my age all I have are stories.”

“All I will say is that those long limbs are as nimble as one could hope for, but as you can see dear Ms. Stickles lacks coordination and stamina. One needs to establish control of the beast and pace one’s self.” said Gerard, “But you know that a gentleman should not kiss and tell Mr. Boucher..”

“Mr. Emerton, I thought we were friends.” Mr. Boucher pouted in disappointment.

Gerard conceded “I will write it down for you, to browse at your convenience, Old Man.”

“God’s hooks! What happened?” Emily sobbed pounding the surface of the water with her fists. Emily threw a tantrum as she waded in the pond, the water just high enough to cover her carefully groomed womanhood. Droplets streamed from her honey-gold hair, trailing down the subtle curves of her elongated figure “All I wanted was to show off my new dress and now I’m naked! Why am I naked?”

“My dear Emily,” Gerard called from where he and Mr. Boucher stood on the walkway. “Showing us your beautiful behind is the least you could do after spoiling so much expensive booze!”

“That’s not funny!” Emily screamed from her watery shelter. “Somebody get me some clothes! Everyone stop looking at me!”

The petite, slight Frederica Chenoweth made her way down the walkway, holding her dress together where it had been torn open in the front. She stood next to her fiancé Mr. Emerton failing to hide her amusement. “I hit her once and Emily has gone for a swim in her birthday suit.”

“Aye Freddie!” Said Gerard raising a glass to the nymph “T’was the slap heard around the world!”

“You!” Seethed Emily Stickles as she spied Freddie’s dark hair in the crowd. “You did this to me!”

Freddie stepped off the walkway to reach the water's edge where the naked young woman’s temper was boiling over. The diminutive girl extended her hand to assist Emily, a peace offering “Had enough Ms. Stickles..?”

[SDS]

Not usually one for 'cat-fights' but wow what a fun and amazing described story!

Are you a fan of period dramas or books as my vocabulary was at a loss to such wondrous curse words! Truely wonderfully xx

[countrymouse]

I am definitely a fan of Jane Austen films and similar Regency Romances. I have always wanted to watch those pretty, fashionable girls break protocol and rip those beautiful dresses off each other, so I wrote it. It did require a fair amount of research on early 19th-century slang and fabrics.

We're on chapter 5(?) and there are 5 more, plus a sequel that was written before this. The plan is to do a whole series of Gerard Emerton Misadventures.

[EliseFell]

Fun story so far. A small note (which you may freely ignore of course): a highborn woman of this time period would do everything she could to avoid a "sun-kissed" look. Tanning was associated with toiling outside in the sun all day, befitting only of the lower class.