by Chris Lange
Preferring to stick with a plain cup of coffee, she glanced at her companion. “Why did you lie to me, Andrew?”
Already sipping his tea, he raised his eyebrows when the softly spoken words nevertheless hit him. “I beg your pardon?”
“It’s a pretty straightforward question.”
He lowered his cup of tea and set it on a side plate without so much as a clink. “I didn’t lie. My fiancée should have been here last night, but her mother got sick and she stayed at her side. Trust me when I say I had no idea Lady Ashton would be present. I fear she put on an impromptu visit.”
Not trusting this naïve, charming young man was beyond Tracy, and the look he gave her brought forth a grin. “I believe you,” she said. “I’m glad we’re friends.”
Having cleared the air about Andrew’s attitude, she wouldn’t have minded getting into the matter of why he believed Garrett to be obsessed with her. Had the brothers talked about it? Discussed her existence at length?
But just then, the man of her dreams came in the dining room, her dad tagging along.
Garrett walked straight to her, raised her hand, and kissed the tip of her fingers in a very gentlemanlike fashion. “Good morning, Miss Richardson, you look ravishing. I do wish this new day sees you in high spirits.”
With him, ‘the morning after’ had always been something of a mystery as she never knew which mood he’d be in. Right now, he appeared pleased. His light tone mirroring the twinkling in his eyes warmed her heart and told her he’d bridled his sexual frustration. For the time being at least.
Garrett went around the table, sat across from her, and filled his plate to the brim. Two orgasms in the same night must have drained his strength.
Following a grumbled “Hello, Tracy,” and “Come on, young man, tell me all about your weapons,” her father grabbed a banana from a large bowl. He pulled Andrew toward the French window which opened on the terrace overlooking the garden and the grounds. As though alone in the world, the two men started talking about the famous collection of seventeenth century muskets.
Left at the table with Garrett, she began feeling hesitant and awkward. What would they talk about after their passionate lovemaking? What did he have in mind? What could she devise now to tip the scales in her favor? Had he dreamed of her or of Miss Perfect giving him a blowjob?
Focused on the contents of his plate, eating like a ravenous man, Garrett didn’t look troubled by any issue. His tormented confession regarding his lack of freedom didn’t leave any trace on his face.
On the contrary, he seemed to be right at home, sexy and handsome as ever. Had he already dismissed his moment of truth and the love he promised her? Had his epiphany only been temporary, spurred by the dark night outside? She had no way of knowing, short of asking him, so she glanced outside.
Her father still chewed on his fruit. She hesitated as a naughty idea crossed her mind. Could she do this with two other people standing in the same room? True, her dad and Andrew were engaged in an animated discussion, and they were sort of facing the French window, but still, could she?
“Garrett,” she said with a soft tone, “would you mind handing me a banana please?”
At last raising his head from the already half-empty plate, he handed her the requested exotic fruit. “For you, my lady.”
She peeled it with a smile, her voice taking on a husky undertone to keep his attention on her. “Thanks, I’m feeling hungry this morning.”
She passed her tongue across her lips before inserting a good half in her mouth. Then she withdrew slowly, sucking the whole length. Garrett looked at her, riveted, suddenly a million miles away from his breakfast.
A harsh sigh escaped him when she began circling the tip of the banana with her tongue. As he stared wide-eyed, she swallowed the fruit almost all the way down, only to lick it out of her mouth, intact, glistening.
Totally enthralled, Garrett didn’t seem to notice he breathed hard through clenched teeth. His hands instinctively balled into fists while she gave gentle licks here and there, turning the fruit around in her fingers. Garrett gnawed his bottom lip and she ran her tongue from the base to the tip before gobbling it again.
She believed he shuddered. Captivated by her sensual display, he let out a louder sigh. She slid the banana all the way out of her mouth while keeping firm lips around it. Displaying the bare, wet fruit, she held it in front of her face.
She slowly placed her thumb and index finger on both sides, then pinched the banana down its middle and pressed. The top half spewed forth. Garrett lurched forward and knocked a glass down.
To the side, Andrew burst out laughing. He still stood by the window but now faced the table. “I must say this is the best show I’ve ever seen.”
Following his gaze, seeming oblivious of what just went on, her father noted the overturned glass and the chunk of fruit lying close. “What show?” he asked. “Tracy, are you playing with your food?”
“Andrew’s kidding, Dad.”
She got to her feet, hoping her cheeks didn’t look as hot as they felt. Concentrated on giving her lover a good taste of what he could have got last night, she hadn’t noticed his younger brother watching her sexual exhibition. Yet Andrew obviously observed the whole scene because he didn’t seem able to stop giggling.
Garrett winced and shifted on his chair. All traces of rapture vanished from his face, he set his glass straight and barked. “That’s enough, Andrew!”
The young man quit chuckling but carried on beaming, far from appearing mortified by his brother’s pissed tone. Garrett stayed put in spite of his brief outburst and avoided her gaze. She still figured her kinky show had struck home when he placed a napkin across his lap.
Could there be stiffness down there? Just as she thought she finally scored points, the front door banged shut and feminine voices drifted toward them.
The Ladies of the house were back.
Lady Anne sneered when she saw the unwelcome guests. Nevertheless, she greeted them politely while removing her gloves with grace. Noblesse oblige. A few steps behind her, Miss Perfect just nodded. How much time did that girl spend every day on dressing and doing her hair?
Without delay, the dragon queen addressed her eldest son. “Garrett, may I have a word with you?”
“By all means, Mother.”
Of course, he couldn’t say ‘Get lost, Mom’ to the woman who gave him birth. Not even a more British ‘Sod off, Mother.’ No, he wasn’t brought up that way.
She sighed and watched them go. They crossed the room by tacit consent, stepped out onto the terrace and disappeared from sight. No need to be a rocket scientist to gather the Lady Anne meant to order Garrett to chuck his undesired guests out of the manor.
Before that happened, Tracy approached Andrew and her father. “I don’t want to impose, Andrew,” she said, “but if you aren’t busy, would you mind showing me around? I’d love to see your London.”
“That will be my pleasure.”
“Dad, do you wanna come with us?”
“No, I think I’ll stay here. Lord John has asked me to join him in his study. It seems we have many interests in common. But you two youngsters go. Just remember, Tracy, we’ll all meet in the garden house tonight at nine. Be back on time. I’ll tell Garrett to send word to Jake and Jessica.”
Finally, he talked to her like a member of his group. Their peculiar schedule being dealt with, she smiled, leaned in, and kissed her father’s cheek.
“Sure, Daddy, you got it. Be good while we’re out and please, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
His sense of humor seemed to be alive today. Eyes glinting with mirth, he patted her arm affectionately. “Oh, stop that, would you? Come on, go and enjoy yourselves.”
Andrew holding her arm, she left the dining room without a single glance
toward the terrace or in the direction of Miss Perfect who had moved to the breakfast table. London must be a wonderful city to discover and she meant to have a great time today in Andrew’s charming company.
Meanwhile, they could all go to Hell.
As it happened, she really did enjoy her day to the fullest. The Burnes’ posh carriage took them all over town to reveal to her London’s beauty: Big Ben, Westminster Palace, Westminster Abbey, and Tower Bridge glittered in the sunshine. No wonder the city brimmed with tourists in her world.
Further along the River Thames, the Tower of London appeared beautiful and ominous. Andrew explained the fortress was built by the French warrior William the Conqueror then later turned into a prison where many famous personages were held within its walls, including Elizabeth I before she became Queen.
With the young man commenting the way, Tracy also appreciated St Paul’s Cathedral, the tallest building in London, and Buckingham Palace in the City of Westminster, home to Queen Victoria.
They took a break from their sightseeing carriage tour around noon to rest on a bench for a few minutes before strolling around Trafalgar Square to admire the National Gallery and Nelson’s Column. As should be, they ended the tour at Piccadilly’s Circus, noisy with horses, carriages, and pedestrians.
Upon leaving the manor, Andrew had the presence of mind to grab some snacks and drinks. He was leading her to a beautiful spot in Hyde Park near the Serpentine when her stomach began to rumble.
They settled down on velvet lawns shaded by masses of gracefully outlined trees, flowerbeds glowing with almost every conceivable tint, riders and horses trotting along sand-colored paths, well-dressed men and women enjoying the sunny mildness of this glorious early afternoon.
A chicken leg in one hand, a glass of light wine in the other, she broached a somewhat delicate topic. “Andrew, are you in love with your fiancée?”
He chortled and coughed. When his surprise wore off, he took a long sip of wine and swallowed hard before gaping at her. “I like that about you, Tracy. You don’t mince your words.”
“Really?”
“Yes. You have a question to ask, and you simply express it. I wish I could be as blunt sometimes.”
Just like Garrett. Unlike his older brother, Andrew might not be subjected to the same familial pressure, yet he felt it too.
“So?” she insisted. “Are you in love with your fiancée?”
He set his glass down on the grass without tilting it, used a napkin to dab at his mouth, and sighed.
“Her name is Lady Mary, daughter of Count Marlington. She’s rather attractive to my eyes and without a doubt, her heart is full of kindness. I’m fairly certain she’ll be a wonderful wife, yet at times I wish she were less dutiful. I fear I’ll spend a few boring winter evenings in her company.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Andrew. Can’t you call the wedding off? Given some time, you might find the right woman for you.”
A merry twinkle lighting his eyes on hearing her statement, he leaned forward to display a sly grin. “Are we still discussing my eventual marital status? It sounds like you’d like Garrett to reconsider his betrothal.”
Her cheeks caught fire. Unable to suppress the heat wave rushing to her face, she cleared her throat and stuttered with embarrassment. “Gee, why would you think that?”
“My brother has been grumpy, touchy, and rather unapproachable since his return from San Francisco. He pretends to be fine, but I know something went wrong over there. I’ve never seen him so aloof.”
What else? What else?
Chapter 14
A beautiful fountain of hope flowed through Tracy’s heart and she had to concentrate to listen to Andrew.
“Garrett spends most days locked away in the garden house. Although he doesn’t say a word, it quickly became clear to me he was obsessed with a woman. Having spent time with you, my dear Tracy, I now understand why.”
“Oh, God.”
She lowered her head, cheeks cooling down, but spirits wild under a sudden rush of excitement and joy. Andrew’s confirmation of Garrett’s moment of truth last night went straight to her soul.
She discarded the chicken leg and leaned sideways to sit on her heels as waves of heat came off her. Andrew simply kept on looking at her while she struggled to release the depth of the commotion riding her nerves.
“I love Garrett,” she said. “I know there’s no hope, but I love him. I can’t help it.”
“Obviously he loves you, too. Christ, you must feel so frustrated.” Andrew sounded like a rebellious teenager confronted with his first crush.
Boring her gaze into his, she had to grin. “Don’t you want your brother to marry Lady Ashton?”
“Of course not. Mother arranged a marriage of convenience to unite two powerful families, but I don’t believe she gave much thought to her son’s happiness. Furthermore, I’d rather have you as my sister-in-law.”
“Why?”
Although he looked more than a little awkward, he shrugged his shoulder in a ‘let’s come out with it’ fashion. “If you’ll allow me to be as forthright as you are, Tracy, I’ll say that I like you and I simply don’t like Ashton.”
“You don’t?”
“No. She’s condescending, vain, irritating, and she never misses an opportunity to ruffle my feathers.”
Lips pursed, he shook his head without adding another word. Then he began packing their picnic basket. “Say, Tracy, how about stopping by the National Gallery?”
She’d have much preferred listening to another string of nasty comments about Miss Perfect, but he seemed to need to change the subject.
Besides, she had always wanted to visit this particular museum. “I’d love to, Andrew, let’s go.”
They stayed at the Gallery until early evening and she wasn’t disappointed. Although a hundred years ‘younger’ than the London National Gallery in her world, the famous museum turned out to be even more fantastic than she thought, and she thanked her companion at least three times for taking her there.
Incredible paintings, sculptures and artifacts swirling in her mind, she felt a pinch of nostalgia when the sun began to sink and they had to head back to the manor.
The time for the meeting had come when they reached Mayfair. They passed over the main entrance to avoid running into the Lord and Lady of the manor, instead using the back way to get to the garden house. As Andrew opened the door, she knew for certain the time for war had also come.
Everybody was dressed in black.
Garrett, Jake, Jessica, even her father had picked somber clothes to match the impending darkness outside and the night ahead. Unless they suddenly intended to join the Army. As if electric lights were too conspicuous, lanterns had been lit and set on the table, along with snacks and refreshments.
Minus Weedon and his wolfdog White Fur, but with the addition of Andrew, The Circle was complete.
As soon as everybody had greeted each other, Garrett handed his brother a bundle of black clothes and told him to get changed in the adjoining small room. Jessica also placed a smaller package in her hands.
Before Tracy had time to reflect on her friend’s gift, Garrett snatched it. “Miss Richardson, don’t think for a minute you’ll accompany us.”
Hell, they had only been standing in the same room for two or three minutes and the man already got on her nerves. His black outfit tight around his lean muscles, he also made her want to drool.
“Why not?” she asked.
“I shan’t venture your safety. Please, do not take a stand against me.”
Seriously? Never one to stay out of the conversation for longer than thirty seconds, her father butted in.
“Garrett is right. I admit you’ve been a great help so far, Tracy, but we still don’t know what we’re fighting. T
he odds aren’t good.”
“Oh, yeah,” she said, unable to keep in check a resentful tone, “Garrett’s right. You bet on it.”
And another of their ridiculous scenes would obviously repeat itself. Both men taking sides to ensure her safety, both ruling her out of the action. Yet this time, she didn’t try to change their minds. Better pretend and play along with them for a while, until the time came to reveal her plan. She picked a chair and pulled it back.
Trying not to smile, nodding her assent, she looked at her father and Garrett in turn. “Okay, whatever you say.”
Startled by her too easy acceptance, they watched her as she sat down beside Jessica, tucked into the proffered food, and eagerly chewed on a piece of warm bread.
Only then did she turn her gaze back to them. “Well,” she said, “there’s really no need to look so surprised. I said okay.”
Still, Garrett and her dad couldn’t utter a word until Andrew came back from the small room, now all dressed in black. He seemed proud to be part of a group, eager to undertake his first mission, and ready for action.
Andrew made his way toward the table and sat at the edge of a bench instead of taking a chair. Distracted by his move, her heart nevertheless swelled with anticipation when she suddenly perceived a shadow standing by the back door.
With a cock of her head, she acknowledged the motionless man. “Come on in, Raphael.”
Five heads turned round, following her gaze. When the dark vampire stepped forward into the light, the air in the room seemed to get a shade cooler. Yet nobody moved, and nobody spoke until she gestured to him. “Sit here, next to me.”
Raphael edged quietly toward her with the grace and flow of an elf reborn. He sat by her side and regarded the members of The Circle one by one, as if he already knew them. Had he been spying on them these past months while she grieved in her condo? Or lurking to see if she came back?