“It could have been so much better if you had given me a chance to help you more,” he said looking at her with a deliciously wicked grin.
She found herself blushing. “I mean, we are grown people, and here I am carrying on like a teenager with all of these sex hang-ups.”
He took a few moments to gather his thoughts by slicing into the Eggs Benedict and taking a mouthful, followed by the washing it down with his tea. “Darling, we said we were going to date a bit before we moved forward with anything more.”
“Yes, well...”
“We are doing what people do when they date; regardless of age. I mean, it was lovely, and I don’t wish to make a habit of it, but we are getting there. And we have time,” he said as he added a spot of jam to a corner of his scone.
A nibble at her pineapple showed him she was not convinced. Nigel said, “You also seem to be missing two very important points, Darling.” Her eyes asked what are those?
“In both instances, you initiated intimacy with me,” he told her as realization showed on her face. “And both times were after you played the piano.” He looked up at her. “You do know what this means don’t you?”
She shook her head no. Nigel’s face was stern as he told her, “It means that I am going to ask you to play something every night before bed, first thing in the morning, before the midday meal,” he paused her effect, “which will make me the official G’Vnah of Happy Town.”
Her husband had pointed out something that she never realized that maybe her passion tied to playing the piano? Nigel also discovered something else as well. she was not frigid.
This was going to change things a great deal.
THE RIDE TO THE COUNTRY estate was filled with Nigel having a conversation with Gianni about his ideas for making the property greener. The hour’s ride to Gloucester left Vanity with an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Her underbelly had been exposed and she was terrified that her husband would use it to his advantage. She eyed him in the passionate conversation with Gianni and a lascivious thought seeped into her mind.
He can tickle my underbelly anytime.
Oftentimes when her models would stay over, they would speak of mind-blowing sexual experiences, assuming she had shared similar times with Joe. Few people knew that Joe, the famous Mr. Hollywood Blockbuster himself, was gay. The past four years she had served as his beard, pretending to be something they were not.
Last night, the real woman in her had been awakened and she liked it. The idea of rolling over on her husband and relieving herself had felt amazing. His mouth on her breast had awakened a beast inside of her.
I can only imagine what it is going to be like to feel him inside me. She was staring at him in a way that brought his attention to her face.
“Wilhelmina, did you hear me? You seem lost in your own head over there.”
“I’m sorry, Nigel. What did you say?”
He opened the car door and stepped out, taking her by the hand and pulling her out his side of the rear door, “I said ‘Welcome home.’”
The country manor estate was everything she had imagined it to be. A Tudor-styled brick manor house that probably served as some love nest for one of his ancestors. As they walked down the drive, she and Gianni were hit with a familiar scent.
“I smell horses?” Gianni asked first.
But before Nigel could answer, both his wife and her nephew made a beeline toward the back of the house, following the smell until they found the stables. “Are those Arabians?”
“Yes, I have four Arabians, a couple of Shire horses, a spotted pony that we used for rides for the kids during summer fairs, and a Welara. This home is a sport house used for hunting.”
Both Vanity and Gianni’s heads snapped around while simultaneously asking, “What do you hunt?”
“Quail, grouse, the occasional rabbit for winter stews,” he said cautiously. “Mainly, we ride and grow vegetables, and I mostly shoot clays. It has served as more of a getaway from the city and a place where I can think than anything.”
His words were moot and aimed at the back of their heads once the barn doors were opened and they saw the horses. “May we ride?” Gianni asked Nigel.
“Of course. Lady Wilhelmina, do you ride as well?”
Her eyes were sparkling as she approached the jet-black Arabian that seemed to lower his head in respect to the lady.
Nigel turned his back to look for a groomsman or a stable boy, “I will get someone to saddle a horse for you.” He walked out the side door to find Hamish, the stable master, only to return and find the horses saddled and his wife climbing aboard a very spirited animal he saved only for seasoned riders. He called to her but she had mounted up and taken off down meadow.
Gianni mounted the Walera, “No worries Your Grace, I will catch up to her.”
Nigel’s heart was thudding in his chest as he urged Hamish to saddle him a ride, but he remained standing where he was, watching the braid of his wife’s hair ripple in the wind. She made it to the top of the crest when the horse reared up and Vanity disappeared from the saddle.
{25] M’Lady...M’Lady
The wind stopped blowing, the sun stopped shining, and angels in heaven had fallen to earth in Nigel’s eyes as he grabbed the first horse available, minus the saddle, and went galloping in the direction he had seen his wife fall. Gianni was ahead of him, putting his horse through the paces as he rode hard towards the crest. Nigel prayed aloud, begging, please Dear Heavenly Father, don’t let her be hurt. He also prayed silently as his hands clung to the mane of the horse. Midway through the meadow, he saw the shadow upon the crest and his wife seated upon the horse. Her braid had come loose and the hair flowed behind her and she rode hard towards the manor.
Had he not been scared out of his mind, Nigel would have believed it was the most beautiful vision he’d ever seen in his whole life. Gianni had already turned his horse, following along behind his aunt who was holding something in one hand and the reins in the other. In the distance a bell rang and the keepers of the manor gathered at the back of the house to aid in whatever call of need was signaled by the sounding of the Strathmore Bell.
Biddie, Giles, Babette, Conall, and Hamish were waiting at the back door when Vanity rode up on the horse, carrying a small child in her arms. “Nigel, she came out of nowhere! I didn’t see her and she spooked the horse.”
The dark-haired child with the large blue eyes looked at everyone in fear that she would be punished.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” Vanity asked as she checked the child for bruises, cuts, and sprains. “Where are your parents?”
Conall spoke up, “She lives down the way a bit, in the village. I think her name is Lisbane, M’Lady.”
“Babette, it seems we both need to be cleaned up a bit. Will you assist us?” Vanity’s hair had made some new friends, as she now sported leaves and twigs in her tresses. The child who could have been no more than five years old, said, “I am hungry. Can I have something to eat?”
“Of course, but first let’s wash your face and hands,” Vanity said as she looked at Babette, who quickly secured a soapy wet cloth. With delicate care and ease, Vanity washed the child’s face, taking extra care with the scrapes.
“Biddie, where is the bread?” she asked as looked around the huge country kitchen, trying to sort out where she thought the food stores may be kept.
From the fridge she grabbed a whole ham and lobbed off a chunk, sliced off a wedge of cheese, and cored an apple. Nigel watched as she made a plate of food for the child that ended up having a happy face with apple smiles, and grape eyes. It was a delight to the child who nibbled at the fruit, looking at Vanity as if she were a fairy with magical wings.
“You are pretty. I like your hair,” she said as she crunched on the apple.
“You are pretty as well. What is your name?”
“Lisbane...Annie Bersky.”
Vanity looked at Conall, who understood the unspoken command, “Yes, M’Lady, right away.”
It was then that Vanity looked down at herself. She was covered in mud, her coat was torn, and she had scraped the side of her face. The skin was broken and she was three days away from a show.
“I am a mess,” she said and she noticed Hamish standing there. Although they had not been introduced formally, based on what he was wearing, she knew him to be the stable master. “Your name, good sir?” She asked.
“I am Hamish, M’Lady, the stable master.”
She patted at her hair, “Normally, I would return my own horse and brush it down, but as you can see, I shall be detained a bit and I do not want the animal to sit. Will you be so kind and take care of it for me this one time?”
“It is my job, M’lady. You will never have to do that,” he said, shocked that she would even want to do it herself.
As she walked closer to the stable master, he took a step back when she told him, “I was always taught to put away my toys. If I take it out, it's my responsibility to put it away.” She stepped around him and went outside to the horse, feeding it an apple. “Next time, my lovely, we will have a much longer ride.”
The reins were handed to Hamish as she walked back inside. “Nigel, which way is our quarters?”
He stood shocked, trying to compose himself. Thoughts ran through his head. He was certain if he wanted to kiss her or strangle her. It amazed him that Wilhelmina acted as if she hadn’t just scared the living shit out of me.
Calm and poised, he pointed towards the stairs. Once she opened a few doors, she would immediately know which room was theirs. Vanity looked at Babette, “I will be back shortly.” Then she thought about it a bit, and went back over to Lisbane, “I will be back in a jiff, Little One.”
“You sound funny when you talk!” Lisbane told her with a scrunched up little nose that Vanity touched with the tip of her finger.
She followed Nigel to the master suite and headed right for the shower. The warm water ran through her hair as she closed her eyes, letting the liquid slow her rapidly beating heart. I was so scared. She jumped when she heard the shower door open and her nude husband stepped in with her.
“Nigel what are you doing?”
“What does it look like,” he said as he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. “For a second there, my heart stopped beating. When that horse reared up and you disappeared, I thought my world had ended.” He wiped away the wet strands of her hair. “I am so in love with you, Wilhelmina, that I could not imagine my life without you. Don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“Nigel,” she said in a low voice as she draped her arms about his waist. “It is only a scrape. I am okay.”
“But I am not,” he held her tighter. “We can’t grow old together if you keep stopping my heart.”
He said nothing more while doing nothing less than sharing the joy that she had not been hurt or killed.
NIGEL SAT QUIETLY IN front of the fire in the master suit. Vanity was dressed and downstairs checking on the child. He was lost in his own thoughts when Giles entered the room to bring him a change of clothing for the afternoon. It was an odd relationship between the two because Giles was family to him. They had basically grown up together, with the butler being only 15 years older than Nigel. The man served Nigel as a butler, a confidant, and an unspoken friend. However, both were careful to never cross the line of the very distinctive roles each held with the other.
He brought Nigel a clean pair of hunting boots and placed them beside his feet. It was the hesitation that made his Lordship look up at his longtime right hand, “Is something wrong Giles?”
Nose in the air, posture upright, Giles cleared his throat, “permission to speak freely Your Grace?”
Nigel rose to face him, “Of course, always Giles.” He held his breath. This was uncommon for his butler to offer an opinion unless requested.
“With all due respect Your Grace,” he paused. “I would have crossed an ocean and half a continent to collect her as well. I speak on behalf of the staff, including myself, we have fallen in love with Lady Wilhelmina.”
He cleared his throat again, bowed his head and turned to leave. “Giles,” Nigel called after him.
“Yes, Your Grace?”
Nigel walked over to him and uncharacteristically, threw his arms around the man and hugged him. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear you say that.”
“Good day, Your Grace.”
{26] What are you thinking...
It was a quiet ride into the village that surrounded the manor. Not much had changed in the small farming town that was overseen by the Duke. The quaint village was well known for its cheeses and something else that was becoming prevalent, crystal meth. As quickly as the constable shut down an operation, another popped up like an irreverent game of Whack A Mole.
Once she had gotten cleaned up, she met Lisbane in the kitchen to chat with her why she was out in the middle of a field. “I was hungry and picking some berries.”
“You were quite a long way from home. I know your Mum is going to be really scared,” Vanity told her as she double-checked the pony tails that Babette had put on the little girl’s head.
“They won’t miss me. I leave every day to go and look for food because we don’t have any,” Lisbane said as she placed a chunk of bread in her pocket. Most of the staff had returned to the kitchen and were listening in to see how the Duke’s new wife would handle the child. Vanity loaded a shopping bag with sundries and half a pot roast to take home with the little girl. A home that that turned out to be not fit for living, even by the vast quantities of vermin that had taken over the cottage.
“I was wonderin’ where ya had gotten off, ya little skamp,” a woman with dirty black hair said to the child as they walked up to the door. Vanity did not stop as she walked up to the front door, waiting to be invited inside. The lady looked up to see Nigel standing there, “Pardon me, Your Grace, I dinna see ya standing there. Was my little Lisbane a botherin’ ya?”
“No, madam, she was nearly trampled by a horse, though, so we thought we would bring her home,” Nigel told the woman as he handed her the sack of goods. “The little one seemed to take a fancy to this beef roast, so I sent some home with her. I hope you don’t mind.”
“No we don’t mind at all, yer Grace,” she said as she took the bag. Her eyes went back to Vanity, who was kneeling in front of Lisbane.
“You know where to find me Sweetie,” Vanity told Lisbane, giving the little girl a squeeze.
“Bye, M’Lady,” Lisbane said as Nigel pulled Vanity by the arm towards the car.
They drove back in silence, but he could almost hear the buzzers going off in her head “What are you thinking?” He already knew, but he was not prepared to have another Phan incident on his hands.
“Her mother is a drug addict and that house is not fit for even the mice to live in,” she told him.
“Yes, but they are her parents and are doing the best they can for her in their current state,” Nigel responded keeping his eye on the road.
Vanity understood something far deeper than Nigel ever would—drug addicts only cared about themselves, “No, my husband, they are doing the best they can for themselves. In a few months, they will have her stealing for them and after that, maybe worse.”
Uncertain of what to say once they arrived back at the manor, the conversation about little Lisbane was replaced with the preparation for the arrival of Jessica and Clarke tomorrow. There was still so much to get done in a few days. She was due in Milan in less than four days with a show to put on in less than a week, but her mind kept wandering back to the child, realizing with a great deal of certainty that they wouldn’t even miss her.
Nigel came around the corner and popped his head into the downstairs office off of the kitchen that he had created for his wife. “The answer is no!” he exclaimed.
She turned in the chair, smiling sweetly at him, “What are you going on about, Your Grace?”
“I am speaking about what is going through that
pretty head of yours. No, she is not yours, she cannot be yours, and no, you can’t stick her in your suitcase on the way to Milan.” He kissed the top of her head and headed out the back door to mount his horse to ride with Gianni to review some options for the property.
If there was one thing Vanity Devons understood, what is fated for you to have eventually will come to fruition. Whether it be a husband, an unborn child with an already trained butler, or a beautiful child in need of a home. What is meant to be, shall be.
THE CRISP NOVEMBER wind blew into the partially opened window as Vanity Devons looked below at the rolling meadow, once green, but now brown in its fall slumber. In a few short months, the rains would come and hydrate the sleeping fields and new life would begin again. Lisbane deserved a new life. Yet in her heart, she knew her life with Nigel was complicated enough, and there were still issues to be addressed that she had yet to broach.
For Pete’s Sake, I haven’t even consummated my marriage. More importantly, I have to figure out how to move Vanity Devons to Europe.
A gentle knock came to the door and Vanity assumed it was Babette coming to do her hair, but instead, she was informed she had a visitor. It was only 7:30 am. Who could be calling on her this early in the morning? His heart raced as she jammed her feet into a soft pair of leather loafers and bounded down the stairs. She hadn’t bothered to bind her hair, allowing it to flow behind her as she descended the stairwell. In the front foyer, there stood a five-year-old Lisbane, still wearing the same dirty clothing she had on yesterday.
The girl made an attempt at a curtsey, “Good morning, M ’Lady.”
Vanity looked to Babette then at Giles, who spoke for them both, “She arrived alone, M ‘Lady.”
Taking to one knee, Vanity addressed the child, “Have you snuck away again Lisbane?”
As if from her mouth to God’s ear the child responded, “They are not going to miss me. I was hoping,” Lisbane said, twirling her fingers in the dirty frock she wore.
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