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“Good; should be an early, uneventful evening then,” he mused.

“NILES!” he bellowed, making his throat even sorer. “The carriage. Bring it round!”

Niles, who had appeared for a split second, disappeared almost as quickly. “Fine mood ‘e’s in,” he muttered to the scullery maid as he raced toward the side drive where the horses where already harnessed to the carriage.

Climbing up and swinging himself into the seat, Niles gathered the reins, released the brake and clicked gently to the shining animals in front of him.

Jules donned his coat, agitatedly stuffing a handkerchief in the pocket, and made his way down the front stairs. Toward the bottom, his nose twitched, “Damn it,” he muttered, pulling out the handkerchief and sneezing a harsh “Haaaaschooo!” into it.

Yes it was a cold and judging by how weak the sneeze made him feel, it was going to be a beauty. These ridiculous parties... yet he’d promised his father this one appearance.

“I’ll stay briefly at Eleanor’s. Citing this cold, I should be allowed a polite exit,” he thought.

The comfort of his own bed, where he could be miserably sick alone, was all he truly wanted. Wiping his nose rather roughly, Jules stepped into the night and climbed aboard the waiting coach. Rapping with his cane on the roof, Niles moved it forward and down the lane toward Lady Eleanor’s lavish estate.

“AaaAAAschoo!” Jules sneezed loudly as the coach pulled into the brightly lit yard. “Miserable,” he muttered with audible sniff.

Niles nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound. This would explain much! “Milord, are you ill?” he queried, opening the carriage door.

“Why Niles, how very astute. Yes, thank you. I believe I am becoming quite ill and will be leaving early, so stay close.”

“Yes Sir,” Niles nodded while he thought, “Serves you right you rotten sod - what you need is a good tumble"

Jules pulled his gloves and entered the foyer. Politely bowing and nodding, making the required simple, well-bred nothing conversation, he searched out his hostess. Where the hell was Lady E.?

The tickle in his nose was becoming unbearable, and he had had to muffle a few discreet sneezes in his sleeve at opportune moments. Now his throat ached, and he longed for his bed. Just as he entered the drawing room, he heard her laughter. Like sunlight in the darkest place, it rang across the room and pulled his gaze to her. She stood next to the fireplace, hand resting lightly on the back of her Grandmother, the Lady Eleanor’s chair. Not a surprise that she was completely surrounded by foppish leaches vying for her attention – to Jules, this woman was flawless. Her dark hair, piled high in loose curls, was a stunning contrast against her fair skin. Only a few stray curls framed her face, and Jules was captivated.

He was also staring.

Feeling his gaze, she met it with a full-on stare of her own. A shock rang through her body, and she then demurely lowered her eyes, whispering something to her grandmother. Jules, immediately embarrassed, averted his gaze to survey the room attempting to regain his composure before addressing Lady Eleanor.

"Damned cold,” he fumed inside, brow furrowed.

Suddenly she was standing before him, awash in the palest yellow silk imaginable, extending her hand with a warm smile, “Grandmama suggested I show you the garden. I am her granddaughter, Janelle.”

Jules was truly dumbfounded. No lady introduced herself, yet this one had and she was truly beautiful. How unconventional! Before he could say anything, the sharp tickle assailed his nostrils again, causing them to flare. His eyes watered and, just as he reached for his handkerchief, the lovely creature pressed her index finger under his nose, stopping his sneeze completely.

“Bless you,” she smiled as she breathed the words and removed her delicate finger.

“Thank you. I- I-” Jules was stammering, obviously embarrassed. “I seem to be coming down with a cold.”

There, he had said it. And still, she continued to smile.

“Mmm,” she replied, “Perhaps you should be in bed.”

There was an unmistakable gleam in her eye. Jules though himself daft; he must have a fever a well. Surely he was hallucinating!

“Excuse my impoliteness, madam,” he offered, kissing the back of her hand. “I am Jules Hammond.”

“I know this already,” she smiled slyly, “Now would you like to walk with me?”

Jules offered Janelle his arm, nodded to her Grandmother who was also smiling knowingly.

“Strange...” he thought.

But perhaps it wasn’t.

Once alone in the garden, the two strolled slowly arm in arm on the moon-kissed path, away from the manor, until they found themselves bathed only in beams from above. Jules could feel a sneeze building and reached for the handkerchief, barely catching it - “Hit-aaaschooo!” - in time.

“My, my,” Janelle said. “Bless you.” She was smiling and Jules fancied he saw a flush on her cheeks.

“Excuse me,” Jules offered.

“Quite alright, I assure you,” she replied.

They had stopped walking under a large oak and Janelle was gazing thoughtfully up at Jules, so invitingly, so...

“Hichoo, Hitshoo, Heeaschoo!”

Jules sneezed into the crook of his arm, muffling them to avoid spraying her. He disgusted himself. What must she think of him, he wondered, as he wiped his nose. But Janelle was smiling and moved closer to him, her upturned face full of concern and something else he could not quite discern.

“Jules, “ she breathed.

“Yes?” Jules asked, looking for all the word like a chastised schoolboy.

“Bless you.” Placing her hand on his chest, she crept tantalizingly close and he could take no more.

“Janelle,” he breathed, “If I kiss you, I will surely give you my cold, yet it is exceedingly difficult to resist you.”

“Then don’t resist,” she replied as she pulled him close, pressing herself against his body.

Jules did as he was told and pulled her into an urgent embrace, kissing her deeply. He held her about the waist and then allowed his fingers to linger to her face. Cupping it, he moved back, searching, eyes laden with passion. As he kissed her again, a low moan escaped from her throat and he caught the back of her neck with his hand and pulled her close, kissing her deeply as their tongues entered a gentle duel. Jules kissed her cheeks, her throat, her neck, until he pulled her to his chest, covered her head and sneezed thrice forcefully over her.

“Lady, I do apologize,” he began, but was stopped.

Janelle held the handkerchief to his nose and gently ordered, “Blow, Jules, and then we need to get you into my bed, where I can care for you properly. This night air is doing nothing for you.”

If Jules had only realized that Janelle could no longer hold back, that she had to have him there and then, he would have moved a great deal faster. Had she actually been so bold as to suggest her bed? In her grandmother’s house, no less, with all these people on the premises? People be damned! Jules was under her spell... but had he heard that correctly?

“Janelle, my apologies, I must be suffering delirium. I thought you just said you needed to get me into your bed, here, in your Grandmother’s house?”

“Mm hmm,” Janelle responded as she pulled Jules close to kiss his throat. “I did...” she kissed his cheek standing on tip toes, “say my bed.” She kissed his lips. “Now, we shall take the back stairs through the kitchen, but in the upper hall, you’ll need to be quiet until we enter my room.”

Grabbing Jules hand, Janelle lead him hurriedly through the kitchen, up the back stairwell and into the hall when she stopped to turn and look at him. Giving him a quick kiss, she pulled him down the hallway to the third set of doors on the right. Just in time, Jules stifled a series of three sneezes - “Hit mpfff, Hit chooo, ha aschoo!” - into his sleeve, and Janelle nearly threw him onto her bed as she locked the door behind her.

She turned to Jules, who was still surprised, and sat next to him on he bed. Gently, she unbuttoned his jacket and waistcoat and tossed them onto the floor. His shirt was done away with equally quickly, and then Janelle stood and wriggled out of her dress, petticoat and under things with a rapidity he had never before witnessed.

When at last she was naked before him, Jules needed no further instruction. He removed his shoes, britches and under things as well and slipped between her sheets. The chill against his skin brought another assault of powerful sneezes in rapid succession and he fell back against the pillow, exhausted yet strangely energized.

Janelle ran her fingers along the nape of Jules’ neck to the base of his hairline, and kissed his sensual lips. Nibbling and tenderly biting along his neck to his chest, she kissed him deeply. Allowing their tongues foreplay, Jules stopped kissing her and pressed his finger to her lips as he turned his head to the side, ready for another sneeze.

“Ha... aah... Hit aaaschooo!”

“Mmmm, bless you,” Janelle breathed as she kissed him and then sat astride him. “I could love you for hours, caressing you even longer, until we couldn’t stand not being joined any longer. I could tease you until you felt like you had to grab me and plunge your manly shaft into my wet little pussy, making me cry out in painful pleasure. Jules, make love to me,” she begged.

Jules pressed Janelle beneath him, revelling at how deeply he buried himself inside her as he looked into her eyes, and then eased her down until he was in full control.

“Now,” he began, “Don’t move. So sorry, but I’m going to... I am going to... to- Heeeachooo! Hit choooo! Aschoooo!”

The thrust of his sneezes made Janelle’s heartbeat race and then, in quick hard thrusts, Jules sent them both over the side and they fell into Pleasures, arms pressed hard together, and then onwards into the arms of Morpheus, holding each other nestled sleepily together.

“Jules, my dear,” Janelle breathed, “here you’ll stay until you are well...”