‘But you’ve been chasing her for years,’ Gabriel replied, feeling a rush of satisfaction when furious embarrassment flashed in the other man’s expression. ‘But it took you long enough to finally get her.’
A flush appeared on Preston’s countenance as his body tensed with passion. ‘She always wanted me,’ he blurted. ‘She just needed me to show her that.’
‘Yes, I can tell by the way she clearly hates you,’ Gabriel mocked, his confidence increasing.
‘She fears me, she doesn’t hate me,’ Preston spat. ‘How can she possibly hate me considering how turned on she gets when I touch her? I know I’ve given her far more pleasure than you have.’
‘Stop this,’ Kruin said in disgust, his voice booming around the room. ‘Childish arguing has no place here. We each have our own views of our “guest”. However, no one is to consider her his personal property.’ He leveled his fierce gaze meaningfully on Preston. ‘And no one is to believe he has more right to her than anyone else.’
Preston scowled. Gabriel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. Although they had established certain roles within the household, both he and Preston were well aware that Kruin held the most compelling degree of control over Lydia. She always paled when he appeared, her large eyes darting to him as if she were waiting for him to bark out an order at her. For his part, Preston had the ability to shame her the most thoroughly, owing to their entwined histories and Lydia’s personal animosity towards him. With Preston, she frequently had an expression of suppressed anger and dislike.
But she didn’t look at Gabriel like that. No, she often looked at him with a mixture of gentleness, humor, and frequently an expression of expectation. Although he doubted Kruin or Preston knew it, Gabriel suspected that of the three of them, she sought to willingly give and receive both his physical and emotional pleasure.
And while he appreciated seeing her tremulous and helpless as much as the other two men, Gabriel was also beginning to enjoy the other aspects of her being. Perhaps more than he should have.
‘Leave Lydia to sleep in her own room,’ Kruin said, striding towards the door with a shake of his head. ‘She still requires discipline, but she also needs a regular decent night’s sleep.’
Gabriel almost smiled as his gaze met Preston’s again after Kruin had left.
‘All right,’ Preston said irritably. ‘I won’t make her sleep with me anymore.’
‘Good. And while you’re at it, I want to know when one of your little sessions with her is over.’
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘Because I do.’
The two men locked angry stares for an instant before Preston turned away. He picked up his teacup with another scowl. ‘Fine,’ he muttered. ‘Go ahead and take care of her, Gabriel, but don’t let her forget her place.’
‘I won’t.’
‘You say you won’t, but she clearly likes you the best.’ Preston’s eyes flickered with undiluted jealousy as he said the words. ‘That kind of affection can manipulate you the wrong way before you even realize it.’
‘On the contrary,’ Gabriel retorted as he headed for the door, ‘it might be the only thing keeping both her and me sane.’
Chapter 11
The watering can slipped from Lydia’s fingers as she stared at the lanky stranger crossing the lawn. Sickening fear suddenly gripped her, her heart lodging somewhere in her throat. She took a step backwards towards the mansion as the stranger started walking in her direction.
Lydia turned and fled, her sandals hitting the flagstones in a rhythm of panic as she headed for the house. Just as she reached the verandah the door opened and Kruin stepped out.
A wave of relief crashed over her as she hurried up the steps to him, wanting to throw herself into his protective arms. Kruin frowned at her flustered expression and reached out to steady her by the shoulders.
‘Lydia, what is it?’ he asked.
She took a deep breath, calmed slightly by the reassuring grip of his strong hands. She pressed her palm against her chest to soothe her racing heartbeat and stepped closer to him to feel the protectiveness of his overbearing physique.
‘I just…’ she panted, struggling for breath, ‘there’s a man out there… I don’t know who he is…’
Kruin’s frown deepened as he looked out from the verandah, and then his expression cleared. ‘Oh, that’s just one of the people Preston hired to decorate the gardens for the party,’ he informed her, with a joviality she’d not seen in him before.
Lydia blinked questioningly. ‘He hired people?’
‘Yes. Cleaning crews, cooks, gardeners and so on. They’ve all been checked out, but if you’re concerned you can remain in your room until they leave. They won’t go upstairs, and I’ll tell you when they’re gone.’
‘Yes…’ she said uneasily, the gravity of her situation once again hitting her after lying dormant in her thoughts for some time, I… I’d appreciate that.’ She was apprehensive enough about the imminent party guests, and she didn’t want to compound that by having to face a strange workforce if she didn’t have to.
‘All right, they should be gone by mid-afternoon,’ Kruin told her.
Lydia wanted to kiss him for being so unexpectedly understanding. ‘Thank you,’ she said gratefully. ‘I want… thank you.’
Kruin nodded and slipped an arm around her shoulder, urging her into the house. Lydia hurried inside and passed the kitchen, from which delicious smells were already wafting.
She spent the remainder of the morning reading in her room, pausing only once when Gabriel brought her a sandwich and glass of milk for lunch.
At around four in the afternoon, Kruin appeared to inform her that everyone had left save for the cooks, and they had been instructed not to leave the kitchen. Lydia realized that the time must be approaching for the guests to arrive, and nerves entwined in her tummy as her fingers tightened on her book.
‘Kruin, I really don’t want to attend tonight,’ she admitted, hoping he still possessed his earlier mood of empathy. But he frowned, dispelling her hopes like water down a drain.
‘You intend to be uncooperative?’ he snapped moodily.
‘No, of course not, but I…’ Lydia’s voice died when Preston entered the room with a large box in his arms. He gave her a broad smile and placed the box on her bed.
‘Hello, my dear,’ he said. ‘I have something for you to wear this evening. We thought you might enjoy dressing up.’
Deciding that her desire not to attend the party far outweighed her fear of another punishment, Lydia appealed to Preston instead. ‘I was just telling Kruin,’ she started carefully, ‘that I’d rather not be there tonight.’
Preston’s eyebrows rose in mild surprise, as if he had expected this very conversation. ‘Don’t be silly, Lydia,’ he scoffed. ‘I’ve been planning this for weeks. Of course you’ll be there. I chose your costume specially myself.’
Lydia rubbed her shoulder and the back of her neck, which were becoming increasingly knotted with anxiety. ‘Isn’t this dangerous?’ she asked.
‘Dear Lydia,’ he said with exaggerated, patronizing patience, ‘there’s really no need to worry. Didn’t Gabriel explain everything? We’re all entirely safe here. I promise. Ask Kruin.’
Kruin nodded at her reassuringly, but the sheer immediacy of the party had brought forth in Lydia a renewed rush of uneasiness. She started to protest again, but her attention was captured by the costume Preston was removing from the box. She had thought he would insist she wear something embarrassingly provocative, but the amount of material he was extracting looked enough to cover her completely.
Somewhat intrigued, Lydia placed her book on a table and rose to approach him. ‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘An eighteenth century robe à la Française,’ Preston replied grandly, spreading the gown onto the bed with a sweep of hi
s arms. Two delicately embroidered panels decorated the front of the pale blue silk taffeta skirt and bodice, and heavy creamy lace edged the hem and cuffs. ‘Complete with corset, shoes and petticoat.’
‘It’s beautiful.’ Lydia touched the thick silk with admiration, thinking that perhaps the evening wouldn’t be so awful after all.
‘And your mask, of course.’ Preston removed a white eye mask decorated with yellow and blue feathers to match the flowers sprinkled over the panels. ‘Trust me, once you’re dressed you won’t worry one iota about our guests discovering anything. Not that they would anyway. Frankly, they should be more concerned about people discovering them. Have you showered?’
Lydia blinked with surprise. ‘Yes, of course.’
‘Good.’ Preston gestured to her dress. ‘Take that off, please,’ he said.
‘You want me to get dressed ready now?’ she asked, surprised.
‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘You’ll need a couple of hours to become accustomed to your new outfit, I think. Plus we’re all eager to see you in it.’
Lydia glanced apprehensively at Kruin, who settled into a chair near the door. She unbuttoned her dress, thinking she should probably be relieved that neither he nor Preston seemed incline to punish her for her reluctance.
She let her dress fall to the floor, and Preston helped her put on silk stockings, securing them with garters that squeezed snugly to her thighs. Then he bade her turn around and slipped a heavily boned, silk corset around her torso, and Lydia winced when he began tightening the laces, cinching her firmly at the waist and ribcage.
‘Preston, not so tight,’ she begged.
‘Darling, the dress won’t fit properly if it’s not tight enough. It was meant to force women to retain an erect posture. You’ll get used to it in a few minutes. It is supposed to be worn over a shift, but we’ll forgo that for this evening.’
After pulling the laces tighter he helped her on with the petticoat, panniers, another petticoat, and then the dress, all of which weighed her down like a heavy cloud. She stared at herself in the mirror, stunned by how the layers of clothing had altered her appearance. Preston moved around her, fastening the back of the gown and the richly decorated stomacher to the corset and bodice. He then slipped his fingers into the bodice, adjusting her breasts so that their upper slopes bloomed soft and ripe from the neckline.
Lydia grimaced, thinking that if the bodice weren’t edged with lace her nipples would even be visible. ‘Is that really necessary?’ she asked.
‘It’s authentic,’ Preston replied. ‘The corset of the time pushed breasts into a position called “rising moons”.’ He smiled and gave those lovely parts of her anatomy under discussion a lurid squeeze. ‘Most appropriate, don’t you think?’
‘If you say so,’ Lydia said sulkily.
‘I was thinking of giving you one of those powdered wigs, but you have lovely hair as it is,’ he went on, stroking her lustrous locks. ‘I’d like you to put it up, though. And there’s a box of cosmetics for you to use.’ He patted her bottom. ‘I want the rest of you to match your costume, do you understand?’
Lydia nodded, and sat down at the dressing table and began arranging her hair into a French twist. Both Kruin and Preston left her alone then, and she spent the next couple of hours alternately pacing the floor and adjusting her costume. She wished she could loosen the corset laces, which were making it difficult to breathe, but by the time she had finished yet another series of embellishments, she heard several unfamiliar voices coming from the verandah.
Nerves clenched in her stomach again, but she gave herself a final glance in the mirror, rather pleased with her reflection.
The dress flowed over her body like the plumage of some exotic bird, with two long pleats in the back draping behind her in a kind of train. Her features were strikingly accentuated by the artful application of make-up. She was not even inclined to pull the bodice up to hide her full cleavage, which seemed entirely appropriate for the costume. Then she turned to pick up the feathered mask just as Gabriel entered the room.
Lydia’s breath stopped somewhere in her chest. He was wearing a pirate’s costume with tight black trousers, a billowy white shirt and black boots that all seemed to magnify his authority and deplete his innate gentleness, and she was momentarily unnerved until he smiled at her.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said.
‘Thank you,’ she blushed. ‘So do you.’
Gabriel took the mask from her hands and placed it over her eyes, tying the ribbons behind her head. ‘I don’t agree with Preston about many things, but he did choose the right costume for you, that’s for sure.’
‘I thought he’d come up with something far more provocative,’ Lydia admitted, ‘and that would have made this evening all the more difficult.’ She gave him a hesitant look. ‘I wanted to thank you for what you did; I mean, telling Preston I wanted to sleep alone in my own room.’
‘Yes, well, I understand that there are limits to everything,’ he said with simple modesty. ‘And everyone.’
Gabriel fastened on a black mask before taking Lydia’s hand and leading her out of the room, and her hand tightened in his when the voices downstairs grew louder.
‘How many people are here?’ she asked anxiously.
‘Forty or so.’
To Lydia’s eternal gratitude, Gabriel kept hold of her hand as they went downstairs, but then she had to let go of him in order to hold up the multiple folds of her petticoats and skirt. She walked with care, unaccustomed to the amount of material and the movement of the panniers.
Strings of Chinese lanterns had been strung up outside, lending a colorful glow to the gardens, and reddish light from the sunset streamed through the windows. Dozens of vases filled with fresh flowers had been placed throughout the house, and music drifted from a six-piece orchestra at one end of the ballroom. The French doors of the drawing room had been opened, allowing for a constant flow of people in and out.
Guests milled about drinking champagne and eating hors d’oeuvres as they gaily chatted and laughed. Their costumes were elaborate and exotic, ranging from a young woman dressed as Cleopatra to a man wearing a Roman emperor costume. There was a fairy princess, a Japanese samurai, a medieval monk, and a sexy cat.
All the guests wore eye-masks that concealed their true identity. Voices and peels of laughter floated through the rooms, filling the air with happy noise. It was a very strange contrast to the silence with which Lydia had become so comfortable.
And her anxiety abated somewhat when Gabriel began introducing her to the guests. They were all polite enough, but didn’t question her presence in the house or her relationship to the three men. They complimented her costume, requested that she dance with them later, and suggested that she try certain hors d’oeuvres.
Gabriel brought her a glass of wine just as Preston appeared dressed as a French nobleman from the revolutionary period. He smiled and stroked Lydia’s cheek.
‘Lovely girl,’ he murmured. ‘I thought it would be amusing if we were paired in costume. Save a dance for me.’
Lydia nodded, but stayed close to Gabriel as they mingled with more guests. Her corset continued to feel uncomfortably tight, her body weighted with the heaviness of her costume. After having spent weeks in light cotton dresses, or nothing at all, it was decidedly peculiar to feel so constricted.
‘You must be Lydia.’ The petite young woman dressed as Cleopatra stopped next to her. She wore a black wig with a serpent-shaped tiara, and a gold lamé top that displayed a deep and shadowy cleavage. Her long legs were visible beneath a gauzy skirt, her trim waist accentuated by a braided gold chain. ‘I’m Helen, one of Gabriel’s friends,’ she introduced herself.
Lydia said hello, instantly sensing she was laying some sort of claim on Gabriel.
‘I haven’t seen you at any of the other parties,’ Helen continued.
&
nbsp; ‘This is Lydia’s first time here,’ Gabriel interjected smoothly, placing a hand on Lydia’s back. ‘But you’ll be seeing much more of her, I’m sure.’
‘Will I?’ Helen smiled at Lydia. ‘What a treat that will be. How did you come to meet Gabriel?’
‘Through Preston,’ Lydia answered truthfully, and something flared in Helen’s eyes behind her gold mask.
‘Ah, and how long have you known Preston?’
‘Long enough,’ Lydia answered, intentionally conservative with the information she disclosed.
‘I see.’ Helen smiled at Lydia’s evasive response, and turned her attention to Gabriel. ‘I’d love to dance with you tonight,’ she purred at him.
‘And I’d be delighted.’
‘Good. Come and find me when you’re ready.’ Helen drifted off towards the gardens, reaching out to pluck a glass of champagne from a passing waiter as Lydia turned to Gabriel to ask him more about her, but he had already started a new conversation with another woman.
With a shrug, Lydia sipped her wine and continued people watching. Kruin was standing near the French doors, looking extremely impressive as a gladiator. The two women with him appeared entirely captivated by his dominating presence.
‘Well, aren’t you pretty?’ someone said, and Lydia found a corpulent, older man was standing beside her. He wore a Victorian-style suit, with an elaborate silk cravat. His white hair was thinning, and his blue eyes were watery behind his mask.
Lydia smiled politely and turned back to Gabriel, only to find he had disappeared into the throng, and she felt momentarily bereft, before reminding herself that she couldn’t expect him to remain by her side all evening. And she was certainly capable of spending a few hours among strangers, even if it was in such a bizarre context.
‘I’m Wallace,’ the man announced, his eyes drifting to her breasts. ‘I know you’re Lydia. You look absolutely exquisite in that dress.’
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