She held her hands as if she were about to pray as she pressed the tips of her index fingers to her lips, “It’s sort of like this; the more reclusive and exclusive you are, the more people want. The rest is all smoke and mirrors. Half of those people at that event were called in by my assistant. I don’t know them and I only have two friends. I don’t surround myself with people. I don’t have an entourage. And you met my personal staff.”
Jane was a starting to understand. “So you and my son are a great deal alike then? Hard working, small social life, and very private.”
Vanity was grinning from ear to ear which made Lisbane start grinning as well. “If we could, Lady Jayne, I would like the wedding to be small and intimate, with just close friends. Can we have it at Strathmore Keep?”
“Yes, it would be no problem. Is there anything special you would like?” she asked Vanity, almost worried about the success of the wedding.
“Actually, there is one thing that I would really like.”
IT WAS A MILD NOVEMBER in comparison to other years where every fireplace in Strathmore Manor would be blazing, but this year was calmer. After showing David and Chuck around the manor, outbuildings, stores, and barn, Nigel bragged about Gianni and the ideas he had given him about making the country estate greener. The last thing he wanted to share with the men was the gym. It was state-of-the art with combination machines, a Jacuzzi, and a sauna.
Always a good judge of character, he knew this is where Chuck would want to stay for a while. Gianni was happy to make use of the Jacuzzi and Nigel asked David to come with him. As they entered the kitchen, Babette was preparing Vanity’s next meal and nearly sliced off her finger as David passed close by her. Alarmed, he stopped to check her finger and the woman nearly swooned. He spoke to her in French as he swaddled her finger in a kitchen cloth, cautioning her to use ice to tamp the swelling down.
Nigel seemed disgusted by the whole show. Both of his wife’s brothers were ridiculously handsome, smart and talented. “And how many languages do you speak, Mate?”
“Last time I counted, I think I was up to six,” David said as he followed him down the narrow staircase.
“Six, really?”
“Yes, I mean Portuguese is the language our mother taught us first, then French, and English, and I also speak Mandarin, Cantonese and Chinese.”
Nigel had stopped in the stairwell, looking up at David asking, “Really?”
David only nodded.
“And Wilhelmina?” Nigel wanted to know.
He rolled his eyes upwards, “Portuguese of course, French, English and Italian, oh yeah and basic Spanish.” David stopped, “Where are we going, Nigel?”
He waggled his brows at David, “I want to share something with you that I know you will appreciate.” At the base of the stairwell, deep under the estate, Nigel opened a creaky wooden door and turned on the lights. David inhaled sharply.
There were rows and rows of nothing but wines. There were oak barrels of cognacs that David ran his fingers across, asking “Are these made by a la bonne chauffe distillation?”
“Actually they are. How did you know that?”
David was looking at the logo, “I had the pleasure of tasting some of this about five years ago and have been trying to get my hands on a bottle of it ever since.”
Nigel walked over to the shelf and pulled out a bottle, “Here you go.”
David’s eyes got wide. “Do you know how much this is worth?” He stopped himself. Of course, Nigel knew how much it cost. He took two glasses from an enclosed case and rinsed them in the sink, drying each with a soft cotton towel.
“I very rarely get to share my collection with a fellow wine lover who truly appreciates the taste of the grape, versus those people who only want to collect the bottles.” He looked around the cellar. “Well, I collect as well, but I also enjoy what I have. Please allow me the honor of sharing something with you.”
David watched with interest as Nigel went to the back shelf and pulled out a bottle of red wine. He showed David the label and he gasped.
“Nigel, are you really going to open that?”
“Yes, and we are going to drink it as well.”
David swallowed hard as Nigel sank the corkscrew into the top of the bottle and pulled up the cork on the 1925 Biondi Santi Brunello di Montalcino Riserva. It was easily a $25,000 bottle of wine, but David wasn’t going to turn it down. Nigel allowed the wine to breathe as he went back to the shelf and pulled four more bottles of wine and placed them on the counter. He poured them both a glass, “Cheers!”
David’s hands were trembling as he brought the glass up and swirled the contents before bringing it to his nose to inhale the bouquet. Last, he turned the glass up to his lips, allowing the vintage nectar to roll over his tongue. There was no way he was going to swirl and spit this out. Riserva was produced from Greppo's Sangiovese vineyards and was made only in exceptionally good years. Every bottle sold was at least 25 years old. It was everything David had expected and more. It was so good, he turned his back to Nigel.
“It is so good, I have to turn around so you don’t see my raging boner,” David said as he continued to drink the wine.
“Bloody hell, Mate, then don’t turn around because you will surely see mine,” Nigel said with a chuckle.
There were two large chairs and each took a seat. “We will serve the rest with dinner tonight.”
David asked, “Are you serious?”
In Nigel’s mind there was a cause to celebrate. His wife had told everyone she wanted to start a family. Two people were required had to have sex to do that! Which in Nigel’s mind meant she was preparing to have sex with him. It wasn’t the wine that aroused him, but the idea that soon, he would consummate his marriage.
The glass in David’s hand was held tightly. “I’m afraid to drink it all, it is so delicious. How many more bottles do you have of this?” David knew he was going to throw out some astronomical number.
“Three. I had five in all. The one we opened and the one I gave you, which leaves me three,” he said as he inhaled the bouquet again. “Have you looked at the bottles I placed next to your chair?”
David picked up the first bottle and tried to read the label, but he couldn’t. He looked at Nigel, who was still sitting there inhaling the bouquet of his wine. The second bottle was a Bordeaux that had a crusted label with a “T” and the Roman numeral 8. Bottle three was a French wine that was extremely old in a thick glass bottle. And the last bottle, he could barely tell what it was because of the dust. David looked at Nigel again. “I don’t understand Nigel, these are extremely old.”
“Wilhelmina said you recently bought a vineyard and were a neophyte collector. She also said you were studying to be a Sommelier. I am gifting you with these four bottles for your collection,” he said.
“I am embarrassed that I can’t read the labels. I don’t know what it is you have given me,” David said.
Nigel leaned forward in the chair, “The French ones came from Napoleon’s personal stash after the French Revolution and the ones with the “T” came from the cellars of Strathmore Keep. They belonged to Henry the Eighth.”
David was overcome with gratitude and didn’t quite know what to say. Words came to him as he spoke softly, “And you are entrusting me with something so rare, so delicate, and so precious? These wines are beyond value. They are irreplaceable,” David told him, feeling honored and humbled at the same time.
“Now, you understand how I feel,” which is all Nigel had to add.
{29] Places please...
The evening had become still as Nigel stood in front of the fireplace, a glass of cognac in his hand and his wife on his mind. The more he sipped at the fine libation, the deeper he delved into thoughts of her. He imagined the feel of her long legs about his back, the sound of her passion as he brought her pleasure, and fantasized about how it would feel to be inside of her. He was so far gone in his thoughts, he did not hear her walk up on him.
&n
bsp; “Nigel, you are deep in thought. What’s on your mind?”
He did not face her but still stared into the fire. He spoke the words softly, only for her ears, “Vanity’s Pleasure.”
“Is there any reason why you are thinking about my business,” she asked him.
His eyes came up slowly to meet hers, the passion seated deep in his irises, “No. Not your business.”
He watched her cheeks flush.
Still blushing, she asked, “I just came to see if you wanted me to play for you tonight?”
“No.” His answer was so quick that she jumped. Without turning around, he said loudly, “May I have a moment alone with Lady Wilhelmina please?”
There was no hesitation as her brother, cousin, Gianni, and even Conall rose and left the room, closing the door as they left the master study. Calmly, he sat the glass on the mantle and pulled her into his arms. He held her, pressing himself so close that it was difficult to tell where his body ended and hers began. When his lips found hers, the passionate kiss took her breath away and his right hand pulled her even closer while his left hand slid down to her buttocks. His fingers pressed into the flesh, kneading, pressing, pulling, and needing. Nigel’s lips traveled to her jawline, her neck, and he nibbled on her collarbone.
He remembered the term she used on the plane; hungry. “I am hungry Wilhelmina, so hungry,” his lips found hers again. He hefted her up in his arms, wrapping her legs about his waist as he pressed her back against the wall.
“I am being as patient as I can, but Darling, I can’t seem to find the right tempo,” he moved against her, trying to tamp down the grumbling in his soul. His lips found hers again and he knew that if he didn’t stop now, he wouldn’t.
Slowly, he lowered her legs to the floor. “I am sorry. I have been in my cups.”
His finger stroked the side of her face. Nigel’s words were gentle like a soft caress as he spoke. He said, “If you were to play tonight, I could not promise you that if you came at me, I would be honorable.”
“Nigel,” Vanity replied softly.
“It’s okay. I’ll come to bed later or sleep down here,” he said, turning his back to her.
“I can try to be with you tonight, if you’re patient with me,” she said, touching his sleeve.
“No!” He turned back to her and pulled her back into his arms, kissing her forehead, “I said I would wait until you are ready.”
He released her, offering in parting, “Goodnight, Lady Wilhelmina.”
She put her foot down. He wasn’t going to do this with her brother and family in the house. It was her turn to raise her voice slightly, “Oh no, you don’t! You pour that crap out of you a cup, go wash your face, and bring your butt to our bed. I will not have the staff gossiping that we are having difficulties after only weeks of marriage.”
Nigel’s eyebrows went up as the facial expression she made. She was angry and if she didn’t look so extremely adorable, he would be almost put out by her tone. However, his wife was not done with him.
Vanity spoke through gritted teeth, “I am stressed beyond belief. Your mother made an unexpected visit and Lady Jayne is trying to recreate or outdo William and Kate’s wedding. The cost alone had my mind spinning. My brother made a surprise visit. Lisbane has attached herself to me and I have to be in Milan in two days. My face is scarred and I nearly broke my butt yesterday when I got thrown from that horse. I have bruises all down my right side. So, don’t you dare have three drinks and relegate your penis as your designated spokesperson.”
The look of shock on his face was almost audible as she poked him in the chest with her finger. The lady continued to speak, with her hands resting on the hips he loved to hold. Vanity said, “Get your butt up to that shower and I will rub it, tug on it, even kiss it if I have to until you feel better and get some relief; now move!”
Nigel put the glass down and moved slowly towards the stairs. Vanity continued her tirade, “Why are you dragging your feet now? A minute ago you were dying of starvation! Get your hungry arse up the stairs to our room!”
As he gradually climbed the stairwell, he looked back over his shoulder, “Rub it. Tug on it?”
Vanity made a fist with her right hand, shaking it as if she were playing a hand of rock, paper, and scissors. To make it worse, she swatted him on the ass. In truth, she was more turned on than he was, but afraid to let him know. At least this way, they both would have somewhat of a happy ending.
EXPERIENCE HAD TAUGHT Vanity Devons to travel with everything she needed for her show. The plane was gradually loaded and the next two days whizzed by in a blur. Lisbane came back every morning to obtain a new dress, but after the second day, she sent Connall to pick her up. She left every evening in the tattered frocks she arrived in, so Vanity would not offend the girl’s parents. Vanity was careful to make sure the little one earned the dresses and items made for her small body. Lisbane’s tasks of keeping the floors clean and she swept up lace, picked up pins, and stuck needles in red pin cushions were the merits which earned her new clothing.
Everything seemed to be going to plan until a major roadblock was encountered. David was on the phone scheduling models, but unfortunately one of the male models had contracted food poisoning the day before the show. Vanity eyed Gianni, who looked over his shoulder to see why his aunt was staring at him.
Gianna had found his way back into the kitchen for more of Biddie’s pie, asking, with a mouthful of pastry, “What? What is that look for?”
It was a pinch, and he would have to do. Conall was at least six feet tall and had a posture about him that worked as well. She was taking him, too.
“Conall, get over here please,” she asked. As the young boy moved forward, Clarke took out his measuring tape and began to call out sizes that Jessica plugged into her tablet.
He too was like Gianni, wondering, “What are we doing M’Lady?”
“You are going to have to help me out, I hope that’s okay,” she said, jotting down notes before the departure.
Final alterations and designs were made and she was off to Milan. Giles was invited to show as well to see the modeling debut of his nephew. Nigel insisted that everyone stay at his Villa and he would join them the tomorrow. David, shocked by the size of the villa and even more so to find his sister knew her way around, knew the Italian staff and seemed right at home. He began to wonder how much time had Nigel and his sister spent together before he came to America?
The night before the show, she sat alone in front of the fireplace, sipping on a cup of hot cocoa. She heard the clearing of a throat and turned to see David standing there.
“Mind if I join you, Vain One?”
“Sure, have a seat. I want to say thank you for being here. You as a new father, on the road with me. I know Halley can’t be happy about this,” she told her brother as she touched his arm.
He was quiet and she knew what that meant. It was a delicate subject he wanted to broach. “Mina, I still own half the company and I was just concerned I guess with your limited experience and Nigel being a worldly man.” David wanted to make sure he had not fed her to a wolf in noble clothing.
She should have been embarrassed but she and David had shared so much. So many intimate details and times in her life, especially when there was no one to turn to but him, but this was different.
Vanity loved him with everything in her, and trusted him with so much more. However, she’d finally reached a state of independence where she didn’t need her big brother to hold her hand. She was a married woman. Speaking softly, she said, “I appreciate your concern, but my husband is exactly who you think he is.”
He threw up his hands, “I didn’t mean to overstep. I mean, I got married, then Will. I was just worried that you got married as well so you wouldn’t be alone.”
“I am never alone,” she told him and smiled as she remembered saying the same thing to her husband, who was now walking towards them. She pointed, “See.”
She rose from the loun
ger to greet him with a warm and affectionate kiss. “I missed you,” she told Nigel.
“And I was counting the minutes to getting here,” he said as he held her close. Now it was Vanity’s turn.
“David, you’re going to be a great dad,” she told him.
“Really, you think so Mina?” He asked as she reached for her husband.
“I know it to be true,” she said as her brother walked away, finally feeling confident that he could completely step out of her daily life.
THE MORNING OF THE fashion show, Vanity took an extra 30 minutes with her yoga routine. Clarke was seated, enjoying a chai tea and going over notes while Jessica was on her tablet, making arrangements for a detail that couldn’t be overlooked. Vanity was joined by David, Gianni, and Chuck in the living room as they maneuvered through stretches, poses, and positions that Nigel thought were not humanly possible; especially for a man.
He almost envied the closeness his wife had with her family. His sister Catherine, he only saw on formal occasions where their mother demanded her presence. Arthur, his brother, lived in an adversarial relationship which there was just no getting around. As straight and narrow as Nigel lived his life, Arthur did the complete opposite. Fast cars, fast women, and fast money. When Nigel refused to bankroll his lifestyle, he stopped speaking to Nigel other than pelting him with snarky comments. He often referred to Nigel behind his back as Mr. Bean, which is why he tried to take off Chuck’s head. But watching them this morning, her family treated him more like a sibling than his own.
He belonged to someone.
I belong to her.
If only I can keep up with her.
Keeping up was the hardest thing to do when Vanity Devons was at work. Nigel attempted to go backstage the evening of the event, but was unprepared to see so many scantily clad, if not naked, men and women. Vanity was cool as a cucumber in the middle of the fray. Clarke was a champ at keeping everything organized as everyone huddled up in a circle for prayer that was led by David.
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