It was a few years back, I was a young struggling country gentleman living with my crusty old uncle at Manly manor.
My uncle Festor was rich but tight with his purse strings he could pass in the world of the English gentry but I was still a little rough around the edges for their likings.
While out riding one day on my trusty mare 'Old paint' I spied a lady in the middle of the road ankle deep in mud and struggling to stand.
"I say madam do you intend on blocking the carriageway all day or is this some form of interpretive art?" I said in a mocking arrogant way as befitting my station in life.
"My dear sir if you were any type of gentleman you'd use your riding crop on my rump and shout disparaging remarks to encourage me to move, obviously you are not endowed with good breeding"
I saw her eyes cum to rest on my well endowed breeding area, my breeches were tight so she knew the enormity of what I had to offer.
We stayed in our places glaring at each other, the hate and contempt in our eyes and then Captain Braggart staggered out of the nearby tavern.
"Allow me to assist madam" he said as he bent doon to remove her foot from the sucky mud.
"How dare you sir" she shouted.
"How you you sir unhand that lady" I yelled in outrage. "pistols at dawn to uphold the ladies honour"
The captain said "wha?"
He may be a drunken scoundrel but he was the best shot in the county of Durhamshire, luckily we were in hardfortshire.
The angry captain left and I whipped the lazy bint out of the mud then we introduced ourselves and she slapped me across the face a stormed off.
I rode home at speed and told my evil uncle I was in love, her name was Emily Austen-Eire a family of Texan/Irish descent.
My uncle went pale , " you cannot be in love with her young Knudsen for she is yer half-sister from yer father's youthful exertions"
He came around a bit when I described her good child bearing hips and small but perky breasts.
"You must still fight yer duel in the morning for the Knudsen name is at stake" my uncle said with a wag of his finger.
The morning was cool and misty, I don't really do mornings so I turned up about 11am ish, damn his eyes he was still there and sober.
We stood back to back and walked 20 paces, I had dueled American president Andrew Jackson once when I said that a Cherokee was more civilised than he was. It was a draw as we both died but it was only the 4th level of death so we were ok.
I walked the long 20 paces and turned. Braggart pointed and pulled the trigger, just as I had hoped, standing there all morning had made his powder damp. I chuckled as I shot him in the heart and then cut off his head as a trophy.
It started to heavily rain as it does so I ran, I ran so far away to Miss Austen-Eire's hoose a quarter of a mile doon the road, she came out and ran towards me as I reached the gate.
"We may be half brother and sister which to my mind only seems like half a problem but would you do me the honour of becoming my bride?"
She leaped into my arms as I pressed my huge and wet erection against her belly. She definitely felt it.
" I may hate you with all my being sir but yes oh yes."
My uncle stabbed himself twice in the back and hung himself from a balcony so I received his estate.
Due to having been out in the rain for 3 minutes Emily died of a bad cold on our wedding day. I still had a honeymoon in her name and hey I came, its not like she would have anyway she seemed a little uptight.
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