“I’m not sure I know how to fit a baby into a lady,” said Bonnie, genuinely taken aback at the thought of wedging an infant into his tailoress.
“Thankfully, I’m not a lady, and I don’t need a whole infant right now. I need to bake one myself,” she said.
“This whole thing grows more horrifying as new details emerge,” said Bonnie. “Where do I come in?”
“You provide the materials,” she said.
“The materials meaning…”
“I need your seed,” said Molly. “The sooner the better.”
“I’m genuinely sorry to tell you this, but fifth sons do not have the luxury of inseminating indiscriminately. The Great Snoring debacle is yet another blow to my income. There’s no stipend for supporting my byblows.”
“Oh, the child wouldn’t be yours,” said Molly laughing. “It would be my late husband’s.”
“You’d like my seed in order to make your dead husband’s baby,” said Bonnie, raising one of his already arched brows.
“Yes, in order to save the shop. The reading of my late husband’s will after the funeral revealed a diabolical clause: if he died without issue, the ownership of the shop would revert to his siblings.”
Bonnie looked around at the large shop stocked with tanned hides, work stations where journeyman and apprentices completed orders, and lounges where well-heeled bucks could enjoy a cheroot and splash of liquor during fittings.
“All this,” he said, waving his hand, “costs money, does it not? You couldn’t establish your own concern nearby and take your loyal customers with you?”
“Youdounderstand trade after all,” she said wrily.
“Don’t let that get around,” he replied.
“And Iamthe Buckskin Breechess. This shop was but a bolthole when William married me. We only grew to this size because I make men’s pantaloons fit better,” she said.
“Do you ever,” he said, looking pointedly at her bosom.
“Yes,” she said, grabbing him by the cravat, “I need exactly that. We should bring that leering straight up to the bedroom and settle the problem.”
“Madam,” he said, pleased to be dragged towards coitus by the comely Breechess, “what is your plan should the first application not take?”
“You’re young and virile,” she said, “surely you can get me with child quickly? Girls are constantly getting in trouble due to quick moments of indiscretion with their beaus.”
“Much as I appreciate those sentiments about my manhood,” he said, adjusting his interested cock, “it is my understanding that the timing may matter.”
He didn’t bring up the factor they both knew to be troubling: that despite her youth and health, Molly had failed to fall pregnant during her long marriage to William. For now, they both resolved to blame the issue on the dead man, who had certainly earned their ire due to his terrible will.
Molly led him up the stairs to the family’s living area. On the way, she whispered, “I’ll tell the servants that you’re a guest, but come to my room as soon as you hear the house settle down for the night. You owe me a baby, and don’t think to escape out a window to avoid it!”
***
Nearly an hour later, after hot water deliveries, the frantic search for spare tooth powder and a man’s nightgown, and the brushing of Molly’s hair, the house was quiet.
“Is my Breechess ready to be bred?” asked Bonnie from the bedroom door.
Molly groaned into the pillow, regretting every choice that had led to this moment.
“Now now, save that for when I’m pouring my life force into your body in the service of paying my first debt in quite some time,” he said.
Molly quietly got to her knees, hiked up her nightgown, and gripped the headboard attached to the bed.
“What’s this?” asked Bonnie, alarmed that the spirited woman he knew approached the task of getting pregnant with the grim determination of a queen about to be beheaded.
“I’m ready. You can put it in,” she said.
