Author's note:
Seeds is Joseph's and Myra's story. It's the final installment of the In Name Only series.
Seeds is actually a prequel to the other two stories in the series, The Journal of Margret Ford being the last. I told the story of the Ellison clan backwards. Margret Ford's story was the HEA for this saga.
Perhaps if you have not read them, you could give them a look. I want to thank those of you who sent feedback on the previous submissions, I appreciated your thoughts. Characters involved in sexual activity are 18 years and older. This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real persons are purely coincidental. Enjoy!
Prologue
Myra stared down at the daguerreotype on her lap. The slightly faded picture only came to mind because of recent events. She hadn't gazed upon it since she was a child. She'd quite forgotten she owned it.
She traced a fingertip slowly over their images. Robert Ellison, a tall, smartly attired dark-haired man stood stiffly upright beside her mother, Muriel, an extremely beautiful, haughty woman. She sat in a chair next to Joseph, Myra's only brother. Joseph was a young man of fifteen, or thereabouts, when the photo was taken. He was as tall as her father and, by the looks of that roguish smile on his face, awfully proud of it. They appeared very pleased with themselves.
It was by design that Muriel had her first child at the age of twenty-nine. They'd waited until the last possible moment to produce the Ellison heir because they coveted their lives together too much to include another. Joseph was meant to be their one and only child. However, fate had other ideas for the self-centered duo.
Muriel was forty-four when she learned of Myra's pending arrival. She'd been utterly shocked to find herself in the family way again, and resented it greatly. Myra was the interloper, the unexpected intruder. She was born into an already complete family unit, one that had been planned and executed flawlessly; an additional child had not been necessary.
Robert and Muriel lived a life of leisure. They enjoyed the easy life their fortune afforded them, and they had a passion for travel. Africa, China, Australia, and the harsh icy lands of the Arctic constantly beckoned. So naturally a child— especially one of the female persuasion who'd require a gentile rearing—was undesirable. Muriel begrudged the fact that the burden of that duty would mainly rest with her.
Myra saw little of them the first five years of her life, and even less of her brother. She was left in the care of servants. On her sixth birthday, her parents came into the nursery bearing gifts. She'd been excited to see them; she'd hoped they were there to spend a little time with her, maybe read stories and share tea.
They were perfect in her young eyes, for, indeed, they were striking. Robert was a fiercely handsome man, and Muriel was a vision of perfection. She often wore her hair flowing to her hips, and she smelled like spring flowers after a rain. She also had the darkest of blue eyes; they reminded young Myra of a midnight sky lit up by twinkling stars. They were the fairy queen and king of fairytales. Had Muriel been an affectionate mother, she would have begged to play in her long golden tresses; however, experience taught her to keep her distance. Muriel would not care for her daughter to move a single curl from its place.
They presented her with gifts of a peppermint stick and a rag doll, along with her enrollment into Brier School for Girls. They disclosed her fate quite unfeelingly, stating that the institution is to become her new home as they have plans to travel. They also made it plain that Joseph, then age twenty-one, was entirely too young to have a child left in his charge. Myra had wondered at this. Had they believed she viewed her brother as an advocate, as someone she'd run to for assistance? It might have been possible had she known him just a little.
As she watched them leave that evening, she finally accepted what she'd already known very early in her life... her parents did not want her, they did not love her and now, because of her guaranteed absence from their lives, there was no chance that they ever would.
And she'd been right.
Robert and Muriel were amongst the dead listed for a luxury liner that went down in the pacific. Myra hadn't believed it at first. The Ellisons were seasoned travelers, they've visited the most remote and primitive places on earth. How is it that they would perish on a ship bearing them homeward?
She studied their beautiful faces, forever frozen in time, and grieved for them. Her parents' untimely death has deprived her of all hope of reconciliation.
Chapter One
Hartview, Connecticut, New Years Eve, 1919
Harrington's mansion was packed with jubilant revelers looking to ring in the New Year. Unfortunately, they were the same people doing the same things they've come to be known for; recycled sycophants who attended every social event in Hartview, waiting for the elite to grant special favors that are rarely forthcoming.
Joseph pulled out his watch to look at the hour and sighed. The night seemed to be dragging on. He couldn't leave before twelve o'clock because Piers wouldn't allow it. After all, they were here to have a little fun. Unfortunately, there were very few women among the extravagantly coiffed ladies he hasn't enjoyed at one time or other. The pickings were slim, at best.
He'd been practically kidnapped tonight by his best friend. His parents death had somewhat unsettled him. The suddenness of it left him feeling incomplete and solitary. But he wasn't. He still had
her
, although he wasn't sure what to do about her, not yet.
Piers thought he should stop brooding about his troubles for one night, and get about the business of living; namely, pursuing pleasurable entertainments with the opposite sex as often a possible. He glanced around the room again and sighed. "Why did you bring me here, Piers?"
"Because old man Harrington invites the most impressive females, you know that." Piers returned, taking a swallow of his drink.
Joseph observed the crowd disparagingly. "They leave nothing for the imagination."
"What does that matter? If I can dip my wick inside one of these beauties without parting from my lovely money, I shall have no complaints." Pierce said, his eyes following a particularly alluring female as she glided by.
"I would gladly part with my money if only to avoid a lady's expectations after the act."
"You may have no need to empty your pockets tonight, Joseph. I believe the spoiled heiress has set her sights on you." Pierce pointed out, amused and a tad jealous.
Joseph glanced in her direction. "Has she?" Elizabeth Harrington was past the first blush of youth. She was pleasantly built, though a little thick for his tastes, but attractive, nonetheless. He had noticed Elizabeth's brazen inspection but thought little of it given that most of the women were regarding him in the same manner.
Piers licked his lips. He adored a woman with hefty breasts and nice round bottoms. "And what a sumptuous package she is. I'd wager you'll have a very spirited ride this evening, my friend." He said, his gaze on her heavy cleavage. "You won't mind if I have a go at her once you're done?"
"Be my guest." When it came to the women he wanted, Piers could care less who came before him as long as he gets in. Joseph was more discriminating; he never fucked another man's leavings—at least not in the same hour.
"Your generosity overwhelms me." Piers chuckled.
"Here she comes." Joseph said, under his breath.
"I'll leave you to it." Piers said. "Remember, I want her alive and kicking. I have plans for those mouth-watering breasts of hers."
"I'll do my best." Joseph promised before his friend moved off to join a group of tipsy women.
Elizabeth met up with him a few seconds later, a confident smile pasted on her thin red lips. "Mr. Ellison...you've come. I'm so very pleased." She said in a sexy tone.
"As am I, Miss Harrington." He replied smoothly.
