Subj: Robina's Journal
Date: 6/27/99 3:30:04 PM Central Daylight Time
From: RobinV

Robina's Journal I

Posted on 1-27-97 by RobinV

1795-How strange it is to write my real name! All the men whom I've shared my bed have called me "Robin." I think the only soul in the world who knows my real name is Barnabas Collins. I was always able to confide in Barnabas--all but my biggest, most incredible secret, and I have my reasons for not telling him that.

James McDougall, the Eagle's bartender, asked me to marry him yet again. I gently told him no. He is a nice man, but old enough to be my father. I cannot see myself making love with him. It is ironic, that I have lain in bed right above his head while he was serving drinks, taking one man
after another inside me, and never him! Actually, he never asked. He always said he wouldn't want such liberties unless I were his wife. I have heard disturbing things have been happening of late to the Collins family. Josette, Barnabas' intended, ran off and married his Uncle Jeremiah. Poor Barnabas was so betrayed, so hurt, he came to me and cried in my arms. He is bereft, disbelieving, and I can only wonder at the treachery of Josette and Jeremiah that they would do such a cruel thing to such a loving, ingenuous man.

It was Barnabas Collins' 19th birthday when I first met him--a young, innocent, mischievous young man, so filled witht he joys of everyday living. I was 27, and had just started my enterprising little business in Collinsport. Business was better than brisk; I was entertaining men
from some of the richest families in town--including Joshua Collins himself, who visited me only at the oddest hours and stayed only to release pent-up juices. His drunken wife hadn't shared his bed for a very long time. He seemed almost embarassed by his needs, but I was very
respectful and simply lay under him until he was finished, which never took long. To Joshua, I was only a necessary recepticle. He was always very generous to me.

Jeremiah Collins brought Barnabas to me on the latter's birthday. "He has never been with a woman," he said drunkenly, "and it's about time he was! Show him the best possible time, Miss Robin." He handed me enough money for a week's worth of erotic love lessons.

I still remember Barnabas' deepset, dark eyes, the way they appraised my large bosom and the approving, beautiful smile that lit up his face. It was one of the first and only times I actually looked forward to taking an inexperienced young man into my body. When I led him up to my room, Barnabas stood there, uncertain of what he was supposed to do, but obviously eager to learn whatever I wanted to teach him. He couldn't seem to stop talking, and I finally shushed him with a kiss. Hardness sprang to instant life under his breeches, and when I touched it, he
groaned with pleasure. As I removed his clothes, he blushed, which I found charming. His body was lean and handsome, not soft like so many other young, wealthy men. He finally confessed that he had heard much from his uncle and his older friends, but really had no idea what to do.
I loved his honesty. Other virgins tended to pretend to know everything and went at me with a brashness that made me cringe.

Barnabas was gentle. "Take off my clothes," I invited, and he did, slowly, savoring every uncovering. He kept telling me how beautiful I was, and his sincerity was true; I believed him. My breasts, the nipples swollen with anticipation, mesmerized him; he couldn't seem to stop
staring at them. "Touch them," I said, drawing his trembling hands to my breasts.

"They don't break." Once he laid his hands upon them, he couldn't seemt to get enough; he kneaded the soft flesh and ran his thumbs over the nipples like a happy child with a new toy. When I encouraged him to take one of the hibbles into his mouth, he looked incredulous, as though he couldn't believe I was offering him something so wonderous. The touch of his lips, then his toungue, circling around and around, made me cry out, and he drew away in consternation. "I hurt you!" he whispered, horrified.

I grabbed him around his neck and drew his mouth back to my breast. "No, Barnabas," I assured him, "you did everything right. It felt very good to me! I cried out because you gave me so much pleasure!"

That night, I had planned only to show Barnabas Collins how delightful oral lovemaking could be. I knew it was a dangerous time for me to be taking a man's member inside of me, to allow it to explode near my womb. I was fertile; any semen would impregnate me. However, there was something about Barnabas Collins that made me ignore my own knowledge, my own warning signals. I think I fell in love with him that night and wanted something of his to keep forever.
Nothing of consequence could happen between the only son of the town's most presigious family and Robina Frisson. Iwas a whore, and what could a whore expect when she falls in love?

Nothing, except what she quietly takes in the course of doing business.

That night, on his birthday, I took from Barnabas Collins the only thing I could ever hope to have--his son.

(to be continued)

Robina's Journal II

Posted on 1-28-97 by RobinV

1795-Even if Jeremiah had not paid for a full evening with me on is nephew's behalf (and then some), I would have encourged Barnabas Collins to spend the entire night in my arms. I never before met any man who reveled in learning about lovemaking as much as the eager 19-year-old on his birthday. I have indoctrinated many wealthy gentlemen, both before and since, and Barnabas' enthusiasm and willingness to learn far surpassed any of them. When he drew him on top of me, then inside me, the wonderment in his face was a breathtaking combination of lust and innoscence. Instince took over and he began to do what every other man on earth figures out all by himself--that thrusting it in and out results in highly delightful sensations, and eventually a gathering of pleasure that results in a flood of warm, sticky fluid that, when exploded near a woman's womb at the right time, creates a child. I closed my eyes for a few seconds, savoring his garsh groan of ecstasy. I knew I was ! in my prime fruitful time, and, brimming over as Barnabas left me, was sure my wish would come true. In my business I had never felt particularly maternal, but as I stared up into Barnabas Collins' glazed, dark, passion-filled eyes, I wanted his child more than anything else in the world. Perhaps that is why what always happens for my partners and rarely happens for me came to pass that night--I had my own climax, and it resounded in my body for a long, sweet time. When it was over, Barnabas glazed earnestly down at me, gasping. A bead of sweat rolled from his forehead and splashed onto my breasts. "Did I...did I do it right?" he asked, and I started to laugh. He looked hurt, taking my merriment to mean that he had made a dreadful faux pas.

I slipped my arms around his neck, kissed him thoruoughly, and said, "You were perfect, oh God, I actually...well, I'll explain it all to you later."

He was proud of himself and eager to learn more, everything I had to teach him. It fit right in with my plans--more lovemaking, more of his seed, could only assure my belly would quicken with Barnabas' child. Our second time (and he was ready so quickly, I shook my head and smiled at him in fond disbelief), was even better. Barnabas lasted longer and started out thrusting much more slowly at first. He moved his hips in bigger circles, making me cry out with pleasure. After he quivered against me, he stayed atop me, kissing my mouth and breasts, for a lengthy time before finally slipping out of me. He started to circle one finger around the niple closest to him and ask questions, one after the other: "Robin, what do YOU feel when we do this? Is the pleasure the same for you as it is for me? Is kissing very important? What else to men and women do together? My friends have talked of placing their mouths where...where...down there!"--and he pointed to my mound. "Is this true? It sounds like much fun. Can we try it?"

I finally quieted him with a kiss. He was making my head real with his free-for-all quest for erotic knowledge. I promised him that all would be revealed in the most delightful ways possible.

He was, by far the most eager pupil I have ever had. Given the number of times we had at each other, I feared he would drain his body of all its vital fluids, so I insisted he keep drinking from the pitcher of water next to my bed. Once, playfully, ginning impishly (that smile is something I still see in my most pleasant dreams) he let the water cascade onto my breasts, then sipped it from the valley in between them. If it is possible to fall in love in a few hours, I fell in love with Barnabas Collins and prayed fervently that I was already carrying his child.

I taught Barnabas many different ways to make love, and he always asked afterwards if I had enjoyed it. The question struck me as odd; how many of the men who had shared my body ever cared about my pleasure? I explained to Barnabas, who listened raptly, that the secret to being a good lover is being unselfish. "If you reach your peak and your partner does not, all is not lost," I said. "You will then use your mouth and fingers to finish what your limp member cannot. Ah, you look unsure, perhaps disgusted--you have left your semen between her legs and you are expected to taste your own essense. YES, Barnabas! Absolutely! Nothing is dirty when a man and woman are together between the sheets and both are enjoying what is hapening. Remember that and you will always please your partner--and she will never want to let you out of her bed!" Barnabas modestly expressed doubt that such a fate would ever befall him, even if he did become more experienced, but I assured him he was already showing signs of being an excellent lover.

The morning following his birthday, we awakened in each other's arms and made love again. He thanked me over and over for everything, and I tickled his ear with my tongue (he loved that!) and thanked him for everything he had done for me. He looked puzzled, and asked what I meant by that, but I just grinned and told him he would never know how special our night together had been, not just for him, but for me as well. He walked and carried himself differently when he left my room. He looked sated and happy.

Less than two months later, I knew for certain that I was carrying Barnabas Collins' child. He had given me a present on his birthday that would bring me great joy.

to be continued...

Robina's Journal III

Posted on 1-29-97 by RobinV

1795-Confusing, mysterious events continue to unravel at Collinwood. Joshua disappeared for a few days and no one seemed to know what happened to him. A young woman named Victoria Winters, originally hired as Sarah Collins' governess, is being sought on charges of witchcraft by a man who calls himself Reverend Trask. Druing some of his visits to me, Barnabas described his fanatical Aunt Abigail, Joshua's sister, and said she brought in this so-called Reverend to track down the witch. Barnabas is certain the poor girl isn't a witch and intends to do all he can to defend her. He revealed to me, in whispers, that he and Nathan Forbes are trying to help Miss Winters, hiding her from this self-styled man of the cloth. I told Barnabas that he should be wary of trusting Lieutenant Forbes, but when he asked why, I averted my eyes and said nothing more. The truth is, Nathan refused to pay me and beat me on two occasions after spending several hours in my company. I don't dare t! ell that to Barnabas, who would never understand a man treating a woman in such a horrific manner.

I look at Barnabas' sad face and wish I could do more for him. My heart aches for him. Such a gentle man, a kind, unselfish, loving man! One has to wonder where his sterling qualities come from--certainly not the pompous, all-business Joshua or his ever-drunken mother! The whole town is agast--Josette's betrayal has resulted in his shooting his uncle in a duel! They were as close as brothers, now this horror! Men! Why do they feel this insane obligation to defend their honor? A fickle woman has, in the space of a few weeks, destroyed a lifelong love between two men who have been closeer than most siblings. It is truly a tragedy. Barnabas says Angelique is still throwing herself at him, pointing out that she would never be as unsure in her love for him as Josette has proven herself to be. I have to give him credit--he already knows all the charms her body can offer him, and she is a beautiful young woman, from what he says, but he refuses to accept her offer of lust. "I don't want her to get the idea that anything more can happen between us," he says forlornly.   "It wouldn't be fair to her. I still love Josette, despite everything. All I can offer Angelique is a repeat of what took place between us in Martinique, and she has made it clear she loves me. I don't feel it right to give her false hope."

Under the circumstances, I considered telling Barnabas about his son, but realized it could only complicate his already-complicated life. Considering how I had used him for my own selfish desire to be a mother, I also felt he would feel betrayed by what I had done and turn away from me. More than anything, I felt he needed a sympathetic shoulder from someone who truly cared about him, and my love for Barnabas Collins had increased over the six years since we had conceived the child. My first instinct had been to keep it from him, and I felt it the right decision. Ah, but I have suffered many complications of my own, bringing his baby into the world! When I realized I was definitely with child, I continued to accept clients for a few more months. Many of them found my swelling belly and breasts quite enticing, and I managed to save more money than I ever had before. The first to guess my condition was McDougall, the Eagle's bartender. He asked if I had any idea who the child's father was, insisted it was none of his business and offered to marry me immediately. I kissed his cheek and thanked him for his generous offer, but I said I would take care of the matter myself. "Will you give the babe for adoption?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No, I plan to keep this child with my mother in Rockport," I said. "I will come back here and continue as before."

McDougall asked me again if I knew who the child's father was, and I said, "I think so." I faced him and said clearly, "No, I know so. That's why I want to keep it. This wasn't an! accident, my friend. This is something I sought and wanted very much." He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but kept his own counsel.

When my girth became such that I felt I had to leave, I sublet my lodgings above the Eagle and retuned home. My mother sighed when she let me in and saw I was huge with child. "It was only a matter of time," she said bitterly. "Only a matter of time that my whore daughter brought home a bastard!"

I flinched at her cruel words, even though I expected them. She hated me for what I had choosen to do with my life (bringing pleasure to so many, while I'm sure she never had to my poor father, who ran away when I was a child), but gladly accepted the money I sent her every month as a result of sharing my body. Her hypocrisy angered me, but I felt my financial support gave me the right to come home to bear my child. The last few months of my confinement were so difficult! Besides having to put up with my mother's diatribes against my bastard child (she never referred to it, or I dare say thought of it, as her grandchild), she constantly told me I was growing so fat and ugly, I'd have to turn to some other form of work to support myself (never thanking me once for all I'd done for her, of course).

I have to say that once my labor pangs assailed me, on a warm May 18, 1789, my mother was constantly at my side, holding my hand (I must have nearly broken her bones when the pains were at their most extreme) and wiping the sweat from my brow. At the end, fearing the child was coming out feet first instead of head first (oh the glassy pains burrowing throughout my body made me feel as if my mind was bordering on madness), she called in Betty, her neighbor from next door, a midwife, to help attend me. With great difficulty, and unbearable pain for me (I was screaming so loudly, I deafend myself), Betty was able to turn the child inside me. I remained conscious long enough to feel my son emerging from between my legs at last, squalling at the indignity of the birthing process, then passed out.

My mother said I was bleeding so heavily, she feared for my life, but after a few days, knew I would recover. She said I twisted uneasily every time the babe cried, as though responding, in my between-death-and-life state, to his cries of hunger. "I feel he may have saved you, my daughter," she said, sounding grateful, and placed my hungry son in my arms. "He is a most handsome child--doesn't look at all like you. Whoever put him into you must be a handsome devil indeed."

"A handsome angel," I corrected her. I feld tears forming in my eyes as I gazed down into an exact repica of Barnabas' face right down to the dark, sad eyes. He gazed up at me as though he knew I was his mother and immediately stopped crying. I released my comically enormous breast from its tether and guided the nipplle into my son's mouth. The greedy way he latched on reminded me of nothing less than the way his father had made the very same gesture the night of his conception--with a different form of satisfaction in mind!

My mother watched me feed my son and asked, "So, what are you going to name him, Robina?"

Walking painfully to the window, I held him so the light touched his beautiful face. He squirmed in my arms, opened his eyes, and gazed intently at me. Oh, God! He was so much his father's son, the fruit of Barnabas' loins.

I pondered his name for the next several days, and finally made my decision.

to be continued...

Robina's Journal IV

posted 1-30-97 by RobinV

2 Janurary, 1796- News came to me this morning that I cannot fathom, not for the life of me. It seems that Barnabas Collins had Reverend Bland summoned to the Old House last night--and he married Angelique Bouchard! I was shocked to hear the news, and can only assume the dear man wed her on the rebound. I am trying to think positive thoughts for him, hoping this Angelique will be good for him and to him, as he so deserves. I can't help my concerns from filling my mind, however. From what I've heard, there is no doubt witchcraft is being practiced at Collinwood. It man not be attributable to Victoria Winters, but there is someone who has the powers of darkness under his or her control. I fear so for Barnabas. The mysterious choking Barnabas experienced, the sudden marriage of Jeremiah and Josette, little Sarah's illness, Joshua's disappearance--they all started when Miss Winters came to the Old House. However, I have made a connection that others have not--the entourag! e from Martinique, including Angelique, arrived within the very same time span! Barnabas told me of his passionate relationship with Josette's comely hand maiden, and that she professed her love for him often. Suppose she is the witch? She's as strong a suspect as anyone else, and jealousy is such a strong motive. If she is, indeed, practicing witchcraft, Barnabas and his entire family is in danger from her! I feel an overwhelming need to warn him, but it is too late; he has already married Angelique. By now, they must be in their wedding night bed, and whatever is destined to happen will happen.

Oh, my dear, sweet Barnabas, may God go with you! I will pray that all turns out well, and that I am utterly wrong in the turn of my thoughts. Surely you would know if a witch were practicing under your roof! I hope you live a long, prosperous life with your new bride, and that she will bear you as many children as you desire. No matter what, I am safe in the knowledge that I am raising your firstborn.

1789-My mother stood next to me as I held my handsome baby son. "Will you name him after his father?" she craftily inquired.

"If that is your clever way of discovering who his father is, I will not tell you either way," I said. The baby waved his tiny starfish hands and made a cooing noise. He yawned. I smiled down at him and kissed his soft cheek. He pursed his tiny lips as though trying to kiss back, his dark brown eyes alight. "Sweet baby," I murmured against his ear. I already loved him so much, and my newly aroused maternal instincts made me want his happiness above my own. More than anything, I wanted to name him after his father!

"Your name," I whispered in the baby's ear, "will be Colin Barnabas Frisson." I wrote it down in the family bible right away, before my nerve deserted me. I had always loved the name Colin, and this way, he would nearly have his father's entire name, in reverse. When Mother read the name in the bible later that evening, she sniffed, "Colin isn't bad," she said grudgingly. "But Barnabas! Very strange. Is that the man's name, Robina? Is it?"

Mother, just forget it," I sighed, placing Colin in his cradle. "I just happen to like the name, that's all."

"The man who put the babe in your belly...is he a wealthy toff?" Mother asked. "If you applied the right kind of...pressure on him or his father, perhaps, could you..."

"Don't even think it!" I burst out. "I will have to leave the baby with you when I return to Collinsport. I trust you will take good care of him--he is your grandson. I plan to leave as soon as I'm strong enough. I will send for him as soon as I feel able to care for him on my own. Don't make any plans for getting rich off your daughter's bastard. I'm warning you, Mother! I will not stand for it!"

"Perhaps I'll bring the baby to you when you're ready, Robina," Mother said. "Yes, I'll come to Collinsport and look into the face of every man I see, until I see one that matches your son's face. Then I will make sure he does the right thing by you!"

"Mother!" I said warningly. I shook my head. She had always, but rarely acted on even her direst threats. I knew she would take good care of Colin, for she had, despite her initial feelings, come to love her grandson very deeply. As I did.

It was with a heavy heart that I made plans to return to Collinsport to my old life. Weaning Colin from the breast broke my heart; he didn't eat or flourish nearly as well as he did when drinking milk from the natural source. I smiled when I thought of how the men would react to the huge size they had grown to with motherhood and nursingg.

Still, I couldn't wait to see Barnabas again. He would never know about his child, but the idea of climbing into bed with him, having him on top of me, making love in his joyous, unrestrained way, made my pulse quicken. I would be careful not to become with child again, although, as I hugged and kissed my laughing baby goodbye, I did let the thought of a full brother or sister for Colin drift through my mind.

I cried through the entire carriage ride back to Collinsport, missing Colin terribly. I felt milk oozing from my breasts, staining my new dress, and knew my son was crying for food--for his mother's touch. The first person I saw when I alighted from the carriage was Barnabas Collins, who was at the Eagle celebrating his 20th birthday. He swept me into his arms and kissed me hard and thoroughly. The first thing he noticed after setting me down was he sopping wet front of my dress.

"What happened, Robin?" he asked, laughing. "Did you spill something during the ride?"

I stared at his dear face, inches from confessing the truth. What would he say if he knew that, still in his teens, he was already a father?

Robina's Journal V

posted on 1-31-97 by RobinV

1789-It was a coincidence, my reappearing in Collinsport on Barnabas Collins' birthday--or was it? One cannot tell somethimes, how the mind controls our actions when we are unaware. As Barnabas, laughing, took my arm and escorted me into the Eagle, where his Uncle Jeremiah and his friends were raising their tankards to him in biirthday toasts, many thoughts were whirling through my mind. One year ago this very evening, on Barnabas' 19th birthday, I had taken him into my arms and made passionate love to him--his first time. I remembered the way his body felt, shuddering against mine, and how I, too, ha ascended more that one pleasurable peak myself as he, a rapid and eager pupil, made tender, urgent love to me. That night, unknown to my eager young lover, we conceived Colin, my baby son left behind in my mother's care.

Tears in my eyes, I watched Barnabas enjoying himself with his friends. I knew, as desperately as I wanted to reveal it, that I could not tell him about the child. He was so young, charming, generous. He would one day meet a young lady of the same social station as himself, fall in love with the joyous eagerness that was the essence of his life, and marry. He would have a half dozen children ith her, and that was right. I knew that if I told Barnabas about Colin, he would want to, as my mother had so callously said, "Do right" by me. He would offer money, perhaps even to marry me. He had never been the kind of person who lorded his money or status over others, and he would not consider himself above me in any way. On the other hand, Joshua Collins would be aghast to know about his bastard grandchild and wold disown Barnabas if he even considered marrying Collinsport's favorite whore.

McDougall had seen to it that my lodgings above the Eagle were once again available to me. They had been spotlessly cleaned. As I unpacked my valise, putting things away in the dresser and hanging them in the closet, I heard footsteps ascending the stairs, followed by a light knock at my door. I had told McDougall not to send any clients up on my first night home, and I pulled the door open with what I knew was an expression of annoyance on my face. It was Barnabas. He looked crestfallen at my less-than-welcoming-scowl. "I'm sorry, Robina," he said. "I just wanted to come up here and tell you how lovely you look--and how glad I am that you're back! I have missed talking to you, and..." He blushed. "...being with you. I have missed you in all ways." He leaned forward to kiss me and I returned it with boundless fervor. His lips on mine truly made me feel as if I'd come come! I felt my breasts expell more milk, further staining the bodice of my dress. Barnabas stared! at them, then into my eyes. Hesitantly, he said, "It's been said...well, rumors have been circulating that...you had a child while you were gone. I remember my mother when Sarah was born...when she was nursing my sister...Robin, it's true, isn't it? You had a child during the time you were away." He wasn't asking. He knew.

"Yes, I did," I admitted. "A boy. I...put him up for adoption to a childless couple--friends of my mother's." I felt like bursting into tears, denying his baby, lying to him. Once again, I was assailed by the desire to tell him everything, but I couldn't.

His dark eyes penetrated mine, and he looked far older than 20. "Whose child was it?" he asked. "When was he born?"

"Barnabas, I'm a whore," I said haughtily, putting on the best performance I could with my heart breaking. "How could I possibly know who's child it was? It could have been fathered by any one of the many men who lay with me during that time!"

"Including...mine?" he asked, still staring into my eyes. I felt as though he were hypnotizing me, those eyes boring into my very soul, and tore my gaze away.

"Yours...your uncle's...your fa...the vicar's...the buther's...the mortician's...Barnabas, please, don't force me to defend myself or make excuses. You know what I do for a living. Please don't play the innoscent with me now."

Barnabas started to say something else, but then Jeremiah came bounding through the open door, brandishing money. "Here, Barnabas, you'll need this," he said, handing his nephew the bills. He was reeling drunkenly and nearly toppled over. I turned him around and pushed him out the door, then closed and locked it behind him. I took the money from Barnabas and tucked it into the pocket of his breeches, caressing him teasingly as I did so. He sprang to hardness under my exporing fingers. I sighed, "One year ago today, Barnabas, we spent an entire night together. I taught you many physical pleasures. You taught me what a rare and wonderful young man you are. You are a considerate lover who cared as much about my pleasure as yours. Tell me, have you been with any other women since I left?"

It was Barnabas' time to blush. "Well," he said, eyebrows raised, "I couldn't very well let all your excellent tutoring go to waste, could I? There were a few servant girls from other households--and I took a trip with Father to Boston and found some...companionship there. I must tell you Robina, I was much sought-after, thanks to the erotic pleasures you taught me. All of them told me I was a most unusual lover."

"Did you fall in love?" I asked wistfully.

"No," he said, unbuttoning my bodice and drawing the wet chamise away from my breasts, "just in lust many times over." He pulled one of my huge nipples between his lips, sucked, and found himself with a mouthful of milk. He made a face at the taste.

I laughed at the astonishment on his face as he swallowed. "It will dry up soon," I said.

I undressed him quickly, wanting him so badly, I was shaking with the force of my desire. Before he inserted his member inside me, he asked quietly, "Are you sure it's alright?"

"I see you've learned a few things yourself since I've been gone," I said, reaching my hands around to grasp hs buttocks and draw him inside me. "There is no chance I can become with child now. Don't worry about that." I felt incredible ecstacy wash over me as we made love, building to unberable crescendo. I exploded with pleasure twice before Barnabas, and when he cried out my name, errupting inside me, I enclosed him in the embrace of my arms and legs, wishing I could keep him there forever.

"Happy birthday!" I whispered in his ear as he quivered against me and finally lay still. His heart pounded against mine and I kissed him over and over. He suckled at my other breast, reminding me so strongly of his son, I feared I would cry--but I forced myself to maintain control. This time, he gave the flavor of my milk more consideration, rolling it around his tongue as if sampling fine wine. "Not bad," he said. "It smells of you, and I like that very much."

We mutually aroused each other again, and our second joining lasted longer and was more heated and pleasurable than the first. It occurred to me that my feelings were too intense for Barnabas Collins. Already, I was considering a second entrapment, and I knew such thoughts could only lead to trouble.

I knew I should let him be, discourage him from coming to see me. Could i do it? No! I could not be that unselfish! I would continue to enjoy him, be his friend, his lover, and that would be enough. It would have to be!

In this matter, however, my heart and head would always be at war.

January, 1795-Barnabas had a huge fight with Angelique shortly after their wedding. He fled the Old House and came to me, his shoulders hunched with misery. he was so upset, He could barely speak, but I finally gave him a brandy. He sat on my bed, sipping from the glass with trembling fingers. He spoke, rambling incoherently, of hte appearance of the malevolent ghost of his Uncle Jeremiah, the reality that Josette was now a widow, his father's fury over his marrying a maid (ah, that is something I could have predicted), of his certainty that Victoria Winters is innoscent (although he mentioned something about her coming from a future time from our own, which I discounted as confusion on his part), Angelique insisting he marry her if she cured his sister, Sarah (oh, my suspicions that she is the witch are overpowering now), and the chaos that he felt when he said "I do" when prompted by Reverend Bland. He looked so exhausted, I let him talk himself out and finish his brandy! . He fell asleep in my bed. I sat in a chair by the bed and looked at him, the father of my six-year-old son, whose resemblance to his father has become more pronounced over time. I wished I could whisk him away from all this, to a place where everything is easy and life has no complications, but know there is no such place, for any of us.

When he awakened, I crawled into bed with him, intending only to hold and comfort the new groom. As always with Barnabas, my resolve melted as quickly as a cake of ice in the glaring August sun. I removed my night dress and shamelessly took off his clothes, all of them. "If this isn't what you want right now, just tell me," I said. His eyes, filled with pain, conveyed that all he wanted was to forget everything that had happened in his life in the last few months. I sat on him as I had so many times in the past, filled my mound with his member, pulled his hands over my breasts and slowly moved up and down until he cried out his pleasure--and called me Josette as his seed flew up inside me. I didn't mind. I have been called by many names in similar circumstances, and I understood why. His marriage to Angelique has been a huge mistake, that is obvious!

Afterwards, he lay asleep, snoring softly, the tired lines in his face less pronounced. He looked 19 again, innoscent, unknowing. If I have helped him, I am grateful, glad that we have stayed friends.

I made sure he was sound asleep before whispering in his ear, "Barnabas--I think your wife is the witch. Yes I do. And...your son's name is Colin Barnabas and he looks exactly like you. He is intelligent and loving and filled with imagination, as you are. Oh, Barnabas, I wish...!"

He awakened, stared at me blearily.

"What...what did you say, Robin?" he asked. "I was having some very strange dreams. I dreamed you and I had a child together, a boy. And...I dreamed Angelique was..."

"Was what?" I quickly asked.

"Nothing," he said. "I had better go now. It's very late. Angelique will be wondering where I am."

"Barnabas, if you need me," I said, kissing him.

"I know," he said, hugging me tightly. "Thank you. Once again, Robina, in your own inimitable way, you have saved my sanity--and my life." He put on his cape, picked up his cane and, his step purposeful, headed home to his new bride. All I could think of was that I hoped she would smell my perfume on his flesh, fly into a jealous rage and send him back into my arms--forever.

to be continued...Robina's Journal IV

posted on 2-1-97 by RobinV

January, 1796-I have rarely felt such a large foreboding about someone I love. Watching Barnabas Collins exit my room gave my heart feel as if it were going to burst from my chest. I admit, I have often had similar feelings for him, usuallly when contemplating a past or future coupling, but this is the first time I am fearful I will never see him again. I could not bear that!

I can still feel Barnabas' seed, sticky between my thighs, and I am grateful I was able to be here for him in his desperate need. What a strange life I lead! I am a whore, in the business of giving pleasure, and there are so many times I have lain under a man's body or sat on top of it) and just let my mind wander away from what is happening, not getting involved save for my physical presence. I pay little attention to their faces or their bodies and take the money they give me and send them on their way, usually with a kiss on the cheek. Many, like Joshua Collins, I would never dare call "Joshua," at least not to his face. Even as he was emptying himself into me, I called him "Mr. Collins." He is not the only one. How odd to have a man so intimate with me, our bodies connected as husband and wife, yet so distant in all other ways!

Barnabas and I were on a first-name basis from the beginning, naturally and rightly so. Oh, dear God, I am praying for his safety, feeling terror overwhelming me. What a fool I was to let him go! If Angelique is the witch, she will harm him grievously, I know it. She already has proven herself treacherous, blackmailing him into marrying her, and making him ill, and so many other things I can only suspect. What woman dares sicken a little child?   I think of my Colin, blessed with Barnabas' serious, sad eyes and dark hair, and her swooping down upon him, intending him evil...no, I would kill her first!

I feel compelled to leave here. I must do something! I saw Ben Stokes, Barnabas' manservant, wandering around the docks and called out to him from my window, but he hastily ran away to a little shack I know he frequents. He had a keg of rum with him. I cannot stay the sensation that something is horribly wrong.

The following night-My curiousity got the better of me. I had a client and hastened him to finish as quickly as possible. He was shocked when I took him in my mouth before taking him into my mound, and when his peak hit him so quickly, his eyes widened and he looked quite happy. He gave me extra money, and I made note to remember how much he enjoyed that I had done. I went to the shack where I'd seen Ben. The door was ajar and no one was around. I went in with a lamp and held it high, searching for I knew not what. I found a barrel with the letter "A" scrawled in the dirt on top of it. I pondered its meaning and couldn't come up with any ideas at all. What did it mean?

Oh, Barnabas, I wish I had a better feeling about you. I am so frantic, I am tempted to go to the Old House and find you, assure myself that you are all right.

The thought that I might never be able to tell you about your son is making me sick to my stomach, but I cannot banish these horrible fears from my head. I have instructed James not to send anyone else up tonight. I feel I must wait, and watch, and pray.

Thus thinking, the past comes back in full clarity, and for a while, I immerse myself in it as I have my lovemaking with Barnabas. It is a temporary comfort, but a welcome one.

18 May, 1792-Colin's third birthday. I left

Collinsport for the weekend to spend it with my son. "Mama!" he called when I climbed from the carriage. "Oh, Mama, me miss you so much!" He is talking very well, loves to sing and Mother tells me he is smarter than any other child in the entire world. I was grateful that her feelings for her grandson had evolved into love. From my viewpoint, I know it's not just pride and mother love talking; Colin is certainly a lovable little boy!

We had a huge chocolate cake for Colin, and invited some of his playmates to help celebrate. I had brought him an entire regiment of toy soldiers. Once, after lovemaking, Barnabas had told me about his "members of the regiment," and the story charmed me so much, I decided his child should have a regiment of his own. I had been quite extravagant, butr I saw Colin so rarely, and when I did, I tended to spoil him--to Mother's eternal wrath. I overheard one of the older children chanting, "Colin is a bastard! He has no papa, he has no papa!" Several of the other children took up the sing-song chanting, reducing Colin to tears. In a rage, I sent the party guests home and told them they were no longer welcome in our house. I held the sobbing Colin in my lap later. He asked me, over and over, what a 'bestard' was and why they were calling him that. I explained it was a cruel way of referring to a child who had no known father, which I realized was too complicated an explana! tion for a three-year-old. He cuddled against my breasts, pressing himself tightly against me, and, his sorrow filled eyes wet with tears, said, "I love you, Mama. Where is my papa? Why don't I live with you? My friends say you're a bad lady and a bad mama. Why?"

I felt like crying myself. How to answer these questions? I put my sobbing son to bed and sat next to him, for the first time berating myself for not thinking more clearly the night I had created Colin with Barnabas Collins. Yes, I had his child, but how happy was the boy? Perhaps I should marry James--marry someone, and give him a father and a last name. Mother watched all this with narrowed eyes, and when she said, "You have ruined his life, mine, and your own with your foolhardiness, daughter. Perhaps it is time to at least let the man know about his son so he can provide, somehow, for him."

"Provide what, mother?" I asked in a loud whisper. "Money? I have enough of my own. I don't need any from him. He would never marry me, I can assure you of that, and if I told him, it would only upset him. It would get him into trouble with his family too, and I don't wish that on anyone. I know his father, and he is a cold, uncompromising man. Mother, please, it was my idea to become with child with thi young man because I...well, because I care for him very much. I know nothing could ever happen between us, but I wanted...I wanted his child! I know how foolish it sounds now, but..."

"In one moment of passion, you have ruined three lives--mine, your own, and Colin's," my mother said cruelly. "Perhaps you should give up the boy for adoption, Robina. He would forget you soon enough, especially if he had a father, mother, and brothers and sisters surrounding him."

I wrapped my arms around Colin and drew him close. "No, mother," I said, "I will not give him away like some homeless puppy. When I feel dispair, he is the only thing keeping me going. I am selfish enough to want to keep him. He will understand someday."

She shook her head at me, then wagged her finger. "You will regret this, Robina," she said darkly. "He will have no friends, he will grow up sad and lonely, and he will grow to hate you for being a whore and making him a bastard."

She stomped oout in a self-righteous huff, leaving me sobbing against Colin's cheek. In his sleep, he looped an arm around my neck, as though to comfort me. It was a very Barnabas-like gesture, and I left his room and continued to cry on my own.

I returned to Collinsport. Barnabas greeted me effusively, as always, and we made deep satisfying love my first night back. 22 and growing hansomer every day, he was half-heartedly courting Marianna, one of the girls from a wealthy neighboring family. "I have to confess, Robina," he said, holding me close in the aftermath of lovemaking, "knowing I cannot do with her what I do with you does put a damper on our time together. I hate all the ritual of it. This is so much more honest--and so much more fun!"

We made love again, and again. His stamina had increased, too, and he had learned delightful new techniques from some willing young lady, if not from the virginal Marianna. His oral expertise was beyond anything I had ever experienced, and he kept at me until I peaked four times, quaking from head to toe.

I was happy again, although what had happened with Colin sat in the back of my mind, festering, upsetting me at odd moments. Barnabas noticed and spoke to me about it several times, but I couldn't tell him what was troubling me. So, he burrowed between my legs and sent everything but heated, unbearable pleasure flying out of my head.

Then, three months after my visit home for his third birthday party, Mother appeared at the Eagle, Colin by her side. Barnabas was sitting at a table with his Uncle Jeremiah, and Joshua. They were sharing a rare evening drink together when I came downstairs and fell right in the middle of this tableau. I stopped in my tracks, gasping. "Oh, Mother, no!" I whispered. All three of the Collins stared with interest at the twosome. Mother and I look very much alike. Barnabas gazed at my son for many long moments. Spotting me standing there, he rose from his chair, put his hands on my shoulder and forced me to look into his eyes. "Robina," he said, "I don't understand! That boy...what's going on here?"

(to be continued)

Robina's Journal VII

Posted on 2-2-97 by RobinV

January, 1796- I am sick with fear! Ben Stokes came into the Eagle. I deliberately plied him with rum to get him drunk, then took him into my bed. He was unable to raise his member to attention, but he did tell me Barnabas had learned for sure that his wife, Angelique, is the witch. He was going to confront her, and hopefully kill her! Terror hammering in my vitals, I got dressed and started out for the Old House. McDougall reminded me I had three clients coming for a special party, and could not risk losing them, as they recommended me to other wealty men. I made Ben promise to do everything he could to stop Angelique from harming Barnabas, and he swore he would. I can only hope he isn't under the witch's spell, for if he is, it is all over for Barnabas!

August, 1792-My mother's treachery was so enormous, I wanted to wrench myself from Barnabas' grasp and flee the Eagle, never to return. I looked into Barnabas' stunned, questioning gaze. Jeremiah and Joshua, still seated at the table, looked from Mother to Colin to me. I had lain with each of the Collins men at one time or another; this child could have been any one of their issue. The fact that my son's face was a miniature mirror image of Barnabas was not lost on any of them.

Barnabas rose from his chair, put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to face him. He wanted to know what was going on, but I felt as if I'd been struck mute and couldn't say a word. Then Colin pulled his hand from Mother's and flew between Barnabas and me, into my arms. "Mama!" he cried. "Gramma said I would have a surprise, but I didn't know I'd be seeing you!" I kneeled and hugged Colin automatically, but Barnabas' rapt gaze bored into me and I knew my day of reconing had finally come. I didn't know what I was going to do about it, but I stood and urged Colin into my mother's arms. Through gritted teeth, I said "Mother, this is about the most horrible thing you have ever done to me! You might have just ruined my life! I may be forced to leave here!"

Mother said quietly, "Well, daughter, it's obvious who fathered this child--the young one standing over there gaping like a hooked fish! Them his relatives at the table over there?"

"Yes," I said. "What of it?"

"They are wearing the finest clothes, Robina! If you had done this properly from the start, you could have been a wealthy young woman and given up this life of spreading your legs for every man who wants to relieve his lust!"

I slapped her, drawing gasps from everyone in the Eagle. It grew very quiet. Behind the bar, James shook his head at me, telling me to take this elsewhere right away. Barnabas cocked an eyebrow at me demanding an answer. Joshua and Jeremiah were staring back and forth between my son and Barnabas, conversing in hoarse, low, horrified tones. I left Colin with McDougall and led Barnabas upstairs to my room. My head was spinning. I could not tell him the truth, I could not! What was I going to say?

Barnabas closed the door to my room behind him, took my hand in his and kissed the palm like a gallant swain. The gesture was so unexpected, I burst into wild sobs. He took me in his arms and let me cry for a few minutes. "May I take this to mean I am to be congratulated?" he asked, and he eagerness in his face was so much what I wanted to see, I started to cry again, harder. He fingered the tears from my cheeks and kissed my cheek.

"Robina, tell me!" he insisted. "He's mine, isn't he?"

I was so torn! I wanted to say yes, admit the truth once and for all, but once said, that could never be taken back. I thought of the expression of hatred and horror on Joshua's face, the way he had gazed from Barnabas to Colin to me, and knew I had to lie to protect this sweet, gentle, one-of-a-kind man. Turning my back to him, knowing I'd give it away if our eyes were to meet, I forced a brittle, bitter laugh. "Ah, Barnabas, as much as I would have loved to bear your child, you must acknowledge the fact that you are not the only Collins man with whom I've had relations! Also, there are many men in this town with dark eyes and dark hair..."

"He has my chin and nose, Robina!" Barnabas said, sliding his arms around my waist. "Please don't lie to me!"

"I'm not lying!" I said, pulling myself out of his arms. "Barnabas, I cannot know for sure."

"Then he COULD be mine?" he persisted.

"He could be Jeremiah's, Joshua's..."Barnabas' eyes widened. "Don't be naive, Barnabas, your father is a man of needs too."

"When I marry," he said defiantly, "I will be faithful to my wife. It's one thing when you are unmarried, but..."

"I'm glad to hear that," I said, my heart sinking at the thought of being lost to me forever, "but not all men are as good, kind and loving to their wives as you plan to be."

"One question, Robina," he said, turning me to face him, staring into my eyes.

I saw my teary-eyed countenance reflected in his dark, sympathetic pupils and wanted to tell him "YES, YES, HE'S YOURS, NO ONE ELSE'S! I DELIBERATELY LAY WITH YOU WHEN YOU WERE AN INNOSCENT YOUTH AND TOOK YOUR SEED INTO MY WOMB SO I COULD HAVE SOMETHING OF YOURS FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE! I DON'T REGRET IT BUT I CANNOT LET YOU KNOW FOR SURE, NEVER, NEVER!"

Instead, I said, "I can never know for sure, Barnabas. I'm sorry. Remember when I returned from Rockport after my confinement, after Colin's birth, you asked me whose child it was?"

He nodded.

Well, what I said then is still true. I had lain with so many men during the crucial time for conception."

He shook his head. "I find that hard to beliee, Robina. This is your profession...are you telling me you didn't know when you were fertile and you were so careless? I would think you'd have a child every year under those circumstances."

Damn him, he was far too intelligent! "Even professionals make mistakes." I said. "Don't you sometimes send out a ship with a hole in it, purely a workmanship error?"

"Rarely," he said smiling, "but it has happened." "Well, I simply made a mistake-- got mixed up," I said quietly. "I left a hole where one shouldn't have been."

He grinned at that. "One last question, Robina," he said.

"Go ahead," I said wearily.

"COULD he be mine?"

I cold not take this away from him or myself. "Well the odds are against it," I said, gazing out the window at a carriage passing by noisily on the street. It was so hot, rivulets of sweat were dripping between my breasts. "But yes, he could be. There were so many, though." "How many who look exactly like me?" he asked quietly.

I didn't respond; I didn't trust myself to say a word. He took me into his arms then and kissed my mouth, exploring hungrily with his tongue. I wrapped my arms fiercely around his neck and moaned into our kiss. He untied, then pulled dowm the bodice of my dress, freeing my breasts, and eased me down deeply onto the feather mattress. He lifted my dress up around my waist and uncovered my mound. He didn't do anything more to prepare me, which wasn't like him. Seconds later, we were joined as we had so many times in the past, the bed creekily counting every beat of his strokes inside me. I climaxed quickly, twice in quick succession, which surprised me; I'd thought myself too preoccupied with what was happening to even be aroused. I should have known better; that was always Barnabas' effect on me. When he reached his peak, he gasped and immediately withdrew from me, pounding the last strokes against my bare belly. His juices splattered my flesh and slid down the hill of my abdomen. He had never done that with me before and I surveyed him, taken aback.

"That is how I will protect you," he said, catching his breath.

"I don't know of too many men who are willing to go to the trouble," I said, amused. "Pulling out before peak takes away from the pleasure, does it not?"

"Robina," he said, brushing his mouth against mine, cleaning his seed from my belly with a handkerchief, "the thought of hurting you in any way takes away from MY pleasure. I always want to do what is best for you, right for you. Don't you know how much you mean to me?"

"Oh, I'm just your favorite vessel in which to relieve your lust," I teased.

He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me tenderly on the lips. "You are much, much more than that," he said, sounding almost angry with me. "Much more than you will ever know."

We returned downstairs together, my face glowing with joy and sexual satiation. Colin was sitting on Jeremiah's lap, being galloped in a horsie game. Mother was deep in conversation with McDougall and Joshua was staring at Colin as if he were an unpleasant task that needed tending to. At the table, Barnabas re-joined his father and uncle and I heard Jeremiah ask my son, "What's your middle name? Do you have one?"

"Barnabas, sir," Colin piped. I was once again the focus of three pairs of startled eyes.

I lifted Colin off Jeremiah's lap and handed him over to Mother, who was sitting at the bar, far enough away so my son wouldn't hear what I said. "I just explained it to Barnabas that I do not know who my son's father is for sure. I love him dearly and will insist Mother take him home immediately. I ask nothing from anyone, I assure you of that. Please do not fear any consequences from this."

Joshua looked skeptical. He's the sort who thinks money can solve anything in the world. Jeremiah was grinning, and he gave Barnabas a punch in the arm. After the trio of Collinses had taken their leave (and the long look Barnabas gave me made my heart thud in my chest; I wanted him again, and would have taken him on the Eagle's hard wooden floor in front of Mother, James, Jeremiah, Joshua and all the other patrons).

I dispatched my mother and Colin to the Collinsport Inn, for one day, no more, I warned. When I returned to my room to await my next client, I found money on my dresser--five thousand dollars!

(to be continued)

Robina's Journal VIII

Posted on 2-3-97 by RobinV

January, 1796-I have been picturing the confrontation between my beloved Barnabas and his witch-wife, Angelique. I know she hates him as much as she loves him, and my fear is growing into something alive in my heart. I see her choking him to death, burning him to deat or paste. First, however, I imagine her making love to him one more time, forcing him, if necessary, and having to use witchcraft to make his member become erect because he despises her so much it remains limp, even though she takes it into her mouth. I remember his dream of her castrating him, along with his terrible fear before the duPres' arrived in Collinsport--that he had impregnated Angelique. Perhaps she would do that too, separate him from his member and let him simply bleed to death while he begged her for help.

My imagination refused to be quieted, and each new picture my mind formulated was bloodier and more agonizing for Barnabas. I paced my room, in a frenzy of terror and surety that whatever was happening to him, I would never see his dear face again.

To calm myself, I forced my thoughts to wander back to the past, before Josette, or, indeed, Angelique had come into his life. Things were so much less complicated then. Ah, but they weren't, just the problems were more mundane and unconnected with the supernatural forces.

1792-The following morning, before Mother and Colin boarded the stage for Rockport, Barnabas showed up at the Collinsport Inn where I was visiting them there. He smiled at me, kissed my hand in that new, courtly manner he'd developed (ah, he was practicing to break other hearts besides mine), and said, "I hope you don't mind, Robina. I know your mother and Colin are going back to Rockport today, and I...I'm sure you would understand, at least I hope you do...I wanted to see the boy."

There was no reason to protest his request. As far as he was concerned, the child might be his--or might not. If he wanted to get to know my son better, I had no objection at all. I felt strangely safe and inexplicably glad. I nodded, clasped his hand warmly and bade him come in. "Mr. Collins," my mother greeted him, sounding so honey sweet, I wanted to club her ear, "So very nice to see you."

"Madame," Barnabas said pleasantly, but his eyes were all for Colin, who seemed to sense the biological connection between them and responded instantly to the stranger. They sat on the floor (another reason I loved Barnabas, who was able to revert to childhood and enjoy himself even in his fine clothes). They conversed for a few moments, Colin's head bent towards his father's, and I felt myself noting how much alike they looked, especially in that posture, and wanted to scream it out for the whole world to hear. When Barnabas asked if he could taken Colin for a ride on his horse, pointing out there was plenty of time before they would be leaving, I assured him it was fine.

When we were alone, I made my mother know in no uncertain terms that she was never to make an unannounced visit again, especially if her only motive was to stir up trouble. The five thousand dollars I had found in my room above the Eagle was in a purse that I carried on my wrist. I knew it would be folly to mention it to her, especially with the plans I had for it.

Colin and Barnabas returned in half and hour, my son breathless and chattering about how fast they had ridden and how much fun he had had with "Uncle Barnabas." "I hope you don't mind," Barnabas said humbly, "I asked him to call me that. He really is a fine, delightful young man! Bright, talkative, and he loves animals as much as I do! I showed him the baby rabbits at the Burnton's farm, and couldn't tear him away, he was so engrossed in petting them." I saw the longing in his eyes when he tugged Colin's long hair in the back, such a natural fatherly gesture! "Someday, I hope to have a houseful of children. My wife had better be prepared to give me three sons and three daughters!"

"That's a lot of work for your poor wife," I said, gently hitting his shoulder. "I shall be thinking of her and praying you change your mind. My dear Barnabas, you try forcing six children from such a small opening and see how well you like it!"

"Ah, but we shall have so much pleasure from the creating of them, I'm sure she won't mind as much as you think," he countered. We smiled at each other, and I inwardly admitted he was right. I would go through it all again to bring Colin into the world, especially when it started with the most wonderful lovemaking I had ever known. Old friends, lovers, parents to a special little boy--oh, God, life was simply not fair to women like me!

A few minutes later, the carriage rolled up in front of the Collinsport Inn. Mother took Colin's hand and started to lead him away, but Barnabas suddenly scooped our son in his arms and whirled him around until Colin was laughing and both of them tumbled to the ground complaining of dizziness. They sat up, their hair and clothes in matching disarray. Mother gave me an angry glance and said softly, "This one cares about you, Robina, enough, perhaps to tell his family to go to hell and marry you if you tell him the child is his. Do it, Robina, I beg you! You're 30, who knows how much longer you will live in these difficult times? Especially in this profession, where men beat you for no reason except drunkenness and anger at their own shortcomings!"

I laughed at her unintended double entendre and gave my son an extra-hard hug. Barnabas assisted my scowling mother into the carriage. She patted his hand farewell. "I look forward to seeing you again, Sir," she said. The carriage left with a jolt, with Colin hanging from the window so precariously, waving to Barnabas and me, I feared he would fall out.

Barnabas turned to me and kissed my mouth, lingeringly. "We did well," he said. "He's every inch a Collins. You should see how he sits a horse. We should really get him a pony and get him started on riding."

"No, Barnabas," I said. "I cannot let you spoil my son."

"Our son," he corrected. "I'm certain of it, Robina, and you can deny it until we are both dead and gone."

Not trusting myself to answer him, I choose not to. I dared not argue or I might loose my careful control. "I'd better go pay Mother's bill," I said, starting towards the desk. Barnabas caught up with me and murmured in my ear, "We've never been together anywhere but your cramped little room above the Eagle. The room here at the Inn is still yours for a couple of hours more--why don't we make use of them as only we can?" I felt a rapturous tingling between my legs at his suggestion. It seemed prudent, too, to change the subject to one with which we were both comfortable--mutual pleasure. Laughing, he chased me upstairs to the room Mother and Colin had stayed in. And there, for a few hours at least, we took off each others clothes down to the bare skin. Euphorically, we feasted on each other as I had taught him our very first night together, traded that bliss for other ecstacy. When I felt him trying to separate himself from me, as he had our previous time together, I protested, clasped him, forced him back into me. "Barnabas, it's all right! I cannot become with child, I swear! Please don't leave me!" I whispered in his ear as his seed spashed inside me, putting the finishing touches on my own bliss. I shivered for many moments, kissing him and running my hands through his hair.

His head pressed to my brests, he lay atop me, breathing heavily. "I hope you are sure," he said worriedly, "because if you are fertile now, this cannot be undone."

"I promise you," I said, "that the mistake I made in Colin's conception will not happen again. I love you for worrying about me, Barnabas, but please, let me fend for myself. You must understand," and I took his face between my hands and stared earnestly, lovingly into his eyes, "for me, feeling you climax is part of what makes me climax, too. If you withdraw...well, it looses something for me, and for you, too, I am sure."

Then, stiffly, trying not to convey my anger, I said, "Oh, Barnabas, incidentally, I want you to take this back. I will not accept any financial help from you, that I vow! If you are thinking you owe me for all the free fucking I've rendered on your behalf all this time, well that debt is cancelled. It's free and will remain so."

He flinched, immediately sensing my mood had drastically changed. I had rarely used such language to him, except perhaps in the midst of passion, and we both tended to then. I threw the purse containing the five thousand dollars at him. He caught it, reached in, pulled out the bills and gazed at me, nonplused. "Who gave you this?" he asked. I could see he was truly shocked.

"I--I thought you had," I stammered. "Oh, Barnabas, forgive me, I thought you felt obligated to me...because of Colin, or because of..."

I turned away from him, feeling more ashamed in his presence than I ever had in our three-year acquaintance. "I did not give you this money, Robina," he said. "I swear it. I will do everything I can to find out who did. I suspect..."

"Joshua," I finished. Barnabas nodded. "How dare he?" I demanded. Does he think he can buy me off?"

"Let me find out for sure," he said. He kissed me gently. "I would never hurt you, Robina," he said, "anymore than I already have by getting you with child."

I wanted to tell him that certainly wasn't his fault, but again, I had boxed myself into a corner and had to stick with the lie I told. So many lies! It was far easier to tell the truth!

It was time to give up the room. It occurred to me that we had been quite indiscreet, making love in such a public place as the Collinsport Inn, but I was realistic to know that the entire town was well aware of our relationship. Now, thanks to Mother blatantly bringing Colin into town, there would be more speculation.

We returned to my room over the Eagle, where we were combing our hair and idly chatting. Barnabas called me name, suddenly caught me in his arms and kissed me with a lust that literally swept me off my feet. He dropped his breeches and I lifted my dress. Impatiently we concovered what needed to be and locked together again, making wild, abandoned love against the wall of my room. He filled me again and again with his hard member, biting my ears and neck, claiming my mouth in kisses that left my lips bruised. I screamed with pleasure when he jammed himself into my depts one last time, releasing his warm juices in a flood that ran down my legs. He clutched me tightly, staying lodged inside me until nothing was left, hs harsh breath echoing in my ear.

Seven weeks later, I realized my montly cycle was quite late. That hadn't happened since...oh, dear God, since I learned I was carrying Colin!

(to be continued)

Robina's Journal IX

Posted on 2-4-97 by RobinV

January, 1796-The two rumors racing through town about Barnabas are both disturbing. I can only hope neither are true. James McDougall says that Joshua Collins revealed to him, in confidence, that Angelique and Barnabas had quarreled bitterly and agreed to go their separate ways. His daughter-in-law had accepted a passbook filled with a great deal of money, he said smugly, as though no one could possibly love Barnabas if not for the Collins family fortune. Angelique took her immediate leave for parts unknown and Barnabas went to England to oversee business interests for the family there. The other rumor, more dark and persistent, is that Barnabas succumbed to a horrific contagious illness, perhaps the plague, and that his father had buried him secretly in an unmarked grave. That would be Joshua's protect the family at all costs and avoid scandal way of thinking, but the idea of Barnabas...dead...no, I cannot allow myself to believe it. The idea of never seeing him again! , never feeling his body against mine, is simply impossible for my heart--my very being to accept. Especially now, since Barnabas and Colin have grown so very close over the years. For my son to loose his father now is untenable.

Somehow, my intuition tells me something bad has happened to Barnabas, and at Angelique's evil hands. My plan is to get Ben Stokes here as quickly as possible, ply him with drink and do whatever is necessary to find out the truth. My heart was beating like a rabbit racing from a fox
hard on its heals. I needed to leave my room and so took a long walk that led me to the newly-built Collinwood and the Old House. I stood, watching the sun set in hues of gold and red, listening to the ocean crashing to the shore. I felt insignificant, caught between the sprawling, manmade house and the timeless waves. Standing there, chilled and shivering, I was determined to learn what had happened to Barnabas. It was my right, and a woman like me doesn't have many. This one I was making my own! I knew Ben Stokes would be privy to all; he was Barnabas' manservant and a close confidant.

1792-Once I knew for certain I was with child, I felt chagrined. I was an experieenced woman; to be caught this way, and purely by accident this time, seemed an unbelievable irony. Or was it a gift from God? I quickly glanced through my ledger to see with whom I had lain during the
fertile time. With my family visiting, I had taken a couple days off from accepting clients at the Eagle. Also, since my monthly cycle had become less reliable over time, I had refrained except for oral satisfaction for five days--except for those euphoric couplings Barnabas and I had shared! Oh, to be hoist on my own petard (or Barnabas'!) and find myself carrying his child a second time! Mother would never accept this, not a second bastard grandchild! Barnabas had come to see me while I was still unsure, but suspecting, I was with child. He was shamefaced as he confessed that it was, indeed, his father who had left the money on my dresser. Joshua had hoped I would be intelligent enough to take the hint. The huge sum would induce me to pack up, take this child who looked too much like his son, and go far away, preferably out of Maine altogether.

With difficulty, I faced Barnabas and asked, "What do YOU want? If you agree with your father, I will do as he wishes. I will take the money, leave here, take Colin and mother and never return. If that is your wish, Barnabas, tell me now." And if it is, I thought helplessly, simply
put a bullet in my heart, for the pain couldn't possibly be worse than...

"Robina, I don't want you to ever leave here," Barnabas said, wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing my head to his shoulder. "I know Colin is mine, I felt it so deeply when I was with him. I want to get to know him better, play even a small part in his life, if you will let me.
And then...there is you. What we have shared in the past, the friends we have been...you must know...I may have been precipitous in what I did, but I gave Father back his money and told him you did not want it, that you would lead your life as you choose, as you always have. I know your pride, and he was so wrong to try to buy you off in such an oafish manner. I apologize for him. Please, whatever you do, Robina, don't let him chase you out of Collinsport."
I clung to him, tears falling down my face. We had exchanged enough words; I didn't want there to be anymore talk between us. I untied his cravat and let it drop to the floor; his breeches soon followed, tangled around my dress and chemise. We fell together on the bed and it collapsed under our weight in a splinter of protesting wood. We burst into laughter, and he bent and kissed my breasts, sucking the tips until they hardened against his tongue. I kissed him and went on kissing him, and in the ruins of my bed, we made sweet, prolonged love that engaged
all my senses and resulted in the most powerful climaxes I'd ever had with Barnabas--or anyone. He attempted withdrawal again, but I shook my head frantically and dragged him back inside me where he belonged.

"Believe me, it's alright," I assured him. In a strange, ironic way, it was; with my new pregnancy, that barn door was closed and securely latched! I lay joyously under him, reveling in his pleasure as he fille! d me again with his juices. He took me twice more (he was always ready,
hard and passionate, so quickly, as ready as he was at 19), and we stayed locked in passion until McDougall banged on the door and informed me that a paying customer was waiting impatiently downstairs.

Less than half an hour later, I lay under a panting, puffing, fat stranger, automatically responding with moans and breathless whispers, but I was, in my mind, still in Barnabas' embrace, remembering his words: "Stay, Robina. I want you to stay." Knowing he wanted me to stay,
that he had stood up for me with his father, helped me endure the ugly man's fumbling, calloused hands and piggish lovemaking. I was desperate and fearful about being with child again. When carrying Colin, I felt reasonably healthy, but this time, I was plagued with nausea, exhaustion and fainting spells. McDougall asked me, flat out if I were with child again, and I refused to answer him. "That is an answer," he said angrily. "Robina, is it his again? If so, you are truly
a fool!" Then he proposed again, and again I said no. I cursed my bad luck. I could not afford to give up my livelihood for a lengthly confinement again! For a few days, beset by constant spells of vomiting thaht forced me to cancel clients, I considered going to a woman in Bangor who sold special medicine that induced miscarriage. Right around that time, Barnabas asked me if it would be all right for him to begin making occasional visits to Rockport to see Colin. I
accompanied him there, my face pale, and the jouncing carriage ride did not improve my weak stomach. He noticed how ill I looked and questioned me closely, but I assured him it was a bout with the grippe and nothing to be concerned about. He kept gazing at me, inquiring over and over if I was all right. Irritated I said yes, and of course, as soon as we alighted in Rockport, I vomited, catching his fine leather shoes. We had a wonderful visit, including a picnic in a clearing in the woods. Barnabas showed Colin how to identify some pretty birds that flew in to sample our crumbs (I ate sparingly), then took him for a ride on his new horse. Despite my weak protests at first, Barnabas made arrangements for Colin to have a pony.

Collin showed signs of becoming an excellent horseman, and Barnabas whispered to me, "Just like his father, right, Robina?" I smiled at his youthful vigor and eagerness, feeling alternately happy and miserable as my stomach fluttered warningly. On the carriage ride back, Barnabas was still feeling playful, albeit in a different fashion. He pulled me onto his lap, then onto his bared member. "Barnabas!" I cried, delighted. We let the carriage bounce us up and down, doing most of the work of lovemaking for us. As we climaxed in unison, it occurred to me that I
had found a highly pleasurable cure for pregnancy sickness. Smiling at Barnabas as he fixed his clothes, I wondered if I should try patenting it.

Barnabas traveled personally to Rockport more than once to give my son riding lessons. Colin spoke often of his love for his Uncle Barnabas and in Barnabas' presence, came right out and asked me if I was going to marry him. I laughed, unsure of what to say. Barnabas took my hand and said, "Your mother could surely find someone better to marry, Colin. We are very close friends, you see, and that's much more special than getting married. One has only to look at my parents to see that."

I was unaware that I had been holding my breath as I waited for his response. If Barnabas had proposed to me then and there, I would have accepted and pressed for an immediate wedding. I had begun to feel movement in my belly; his child was making its presence felt. Back in my room at the Eagle, I checked the calendar. I was four months gone already. I had made the trip to Bangor and, for a great deal of money, purchased the medicine that induced abortion. I had had it sitting on my dresser for a month and a half, unsure of what to do. I was still sick every day and found myself spotting a few drops of blood here and there. I wondered if Mother Nature was going to take of me herself, but the spotting stopped in a few days and shortly after that, I felt the first movements of the growing child in my womb. This child was determined to live, apparently, and I found myself thinking of Colin, picturing a little brother for him, or perhaps a pretty little sister. I knew how much Barnabas adored his sister, Sarah, and that Colin had the same kind of love for younger children, especially babies. My son spoke often of how lonely he was. I could handle Mother, I was sure of that. For all her anger and scowling, she would have nothing upon ! which to concentrate her love, if not for Colin. She would accept
the second child. If she didn't, I would make other arrangements! I emptied the abortive medicine into my chamber pot. "No," I said. "I will not kill my baby. He or she deserves as much a chance at life as Colin had. I will bear Barnabas' second child!"

Strangely, once I made that decision, I felt better both physically and mentally. The sickness subsided and I began to bloom in my pregnancy, my breasts filling out as they had the first time. I demanded extra fees for my services, again stockpiling money. It was perhaps fortunate at this time, Joshua Collins insisted that Barnabas find other persuits besides the town whore. Barnabas began to unenthusiastically court Francesca Townsend, the 20 year old daughter of
Marcus Townsend, a wealthy landowner. Word got back to me that Francesca thought Barnabas far too forward, although she laughingly confessed he was a very good kisser--which means she must have let him! I thought of how I was familiar with every last vein, nook and cranny on Barnabas' member, what it tastes like, how it feels inside me--and mirthfully,
wickedly, wondered what the virginal Francesca would say if she knew everything I knew!

I saw Barnabas several times, but I was always careful to wrap myself carefully in a shawl to insure he couldn't possibly tell I was with child. We did not make love at all, and I missed him so much, I couldn't believe how desperately my body craved his touch. Time was drawing close for me to leave the Eagle and await the birth of my child. I had one more client that night and planned to leave first thing in the morning for Rockport. An hour before the client was due,
there was a light tap at my door. I opened it, thinking the client was perhaps early, glad for it, because I was tired, and there was Barnabas. He barged past me and observed me hastily grabbing my shawl from the foot of the bed and wrapping it around my blossoming body. "You are with child again," he said, pointing to my lush belly. "I've known for a while, Robina. I'm not 19 anymore. I've had the strangest feeling...this one is mine, too, isn't it? Robina, you must tell me the truth! You've never come out and admitted about Colin, but..."

I felt tears pouring from my eyes as I nodded. I was too tired to lie. The subterfuge would have taken too much out of me. Having confessed, it could not be taken back, ever. Not giving him a chance to speak, I said, "I'm going to Rockport tomorrow to have the child. I wasn't going to
have it at all...I considered...never mind. I love Colin more than my own life. When I realized this child cold be no one but yours..."

He gathered me into his arms and held me close. The baby in my belly gave a kick, as though saying hello to its father. He laughed and pressed a hand over the protrusion. "That's our baby!" he said, his face filled with wonderment. "Oh, Robina, this is truly a blessing!"

He kept promising me he would join me in Rockport, be at my side for the birth of this child, help support us financially and emotionally. I basked in his plans, even though marriage was not mentioned, because he kept referring to "us"--Barnabas, Robina, Colin and the new baby--as a
family. He kissed me hard. "Oh, Robina, I'm so happy you've told me you're having my child!" Our kiss, as always, escalated into uncontrollable passion. When we were naked and in each other's arms, loving each other completely, he said my rounded belly and even bigger breasts made me even more enticing to him. Feeling that he'd make a form of commitment to me, I was happy, and that bliss transmitted itself into our lovemaking, mushrooming into an ecstatic, shuddering climax that we shared as one. He was very careful, fearful of crushing the baby, but I
assured him that the child was fine and probabily enjoyed the ride as much as his or her parents did. "I hope it's a girl this time," he said. "We can name her after you, if you like. I love the name Robina. I'll go to Rockport with you first thing in the morning."

Not five minutes after he left, giving me one last long kiss on my mouth, my last client came to my door. He was tall, handsome, daper, with a pencil-thin mustache on his upper lip, very white, smiling teeth. He wore all black clothes, except for a brilliant red cravat to relieve the darkness. I had never seen him before, and I always ask the name of a new client (not that I require a real name, just something to jot down so I am aware of special preferences between the sheets). "I am Nicholas Blair," he said in clipped, commanding tones. "I have heard much about you, Miss Robina, specifically, that you are the best at what you do. And i always prefer to deal with the best!"

(to be continued)