Wicked Pleasures

by Penny Vincenzi

  ‘For God’s sake, Baby, they’re children. What do you think can happen?’

  Baby said that wasn’t the point, and Alexander said he couldn’t see any other and walked out of the room; the subject was not raised again. Charlotte had a sneaking sympathy with Baby’s point of view; she felt her father was being insensitive. Which was extremely unlike him.

  After four days, Virginia left again; she had a client to see in New York, who had asked her to do his beach house on Florida Key West; she had done his apartment at the Sherry Netherland, in what she described as French provincial style.

  ‘I cannot imagine how anything French provincial could sit in that brash heap of a hotel,’ said Alexander lightly. ‘Georgie, don’t eat so fast, anyone would think you hadn’t been fed for a year.’

  ‘Imagination was never your strong point,’ said Virginia. ‘And don’t call her Georgie.’

  She was in particularly tetchy mood; even Max had to admit it was better without her.

  Alexander took the children back to England alone; Virginia had gone to Key West. She had called Nantucket to say she would be anything up to two weeks.

  ‘It won’t matter, will it?’ she said to Charlotte. ‘Max and Georgina will be at school, and you’ll be off to university. I won’t be missed.’

  ‘You will,’ said Charlotte, ‘but we’re used to it.’ She put the phone down without even saying goodbye.

  Left on her own, with a month to kill before she went up to Cambridge, Charlotte was bored and lonely. She did some reading, and she rode a lot, but she missed Beau unbearably, and she missed her brother and sister as well. Alexander was busy with the estate, distracted; she sought other friends, but found them unsatisfactory. She was just thinking of going back to the States to see her mother and do some groundwork on the bank when Toby Lavenham rang.

  ‘Charlotte! Hi, how was your summer?’

  ‘Oh it was fine. How was yours?’

  ‘Excellent.’

  She saw him almost every holidays, but they had never resumed their relationship; the opportunity had not presented itself at first and then he had had a relationship at Oxford which Joanna had said was serious. ‘But he still does hold a bit of a torch for you, Charlotte. I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes back to you after all. Don’t despair!’

  Charlotte didn’t say she was extremely far from despair; Joanna adored her brother.

  He sounded pompous and stiff after Beau; she could hardly bear to talk to him. ‘Charlotte, I’m down this weekend, with my parents. Could I come over and see you?’

  ‘Of course. Any time.’ She sounded bored, uninterested.

  ‘Well – I wondered if you’d like to have dinner on Saturday? In Marlborough somewhere? Would that amuse you?’

  ‘Oh – yes. Yes, that’d be really nice.’ Come on, Charlotte, she thought, make an effort. He can’t help not being Beau.

  ‘OK. I’ll call for you about six thirty. Then we can have a drive and a drink first.’

  ‘Fine. Bye, Toby.’

  Oh well, it would be better than dinner with Nanny.

  Somewhat perversely, Charlotte went to considerable trouble to look nice for Toby. She wanted to show him that she was now a grown, fully mature woman. Not a schoolgirl.

  She wore a black jersey dress that clung to her body, buttoned right through from neck to hem; she left several of the top buttons undone, and most of the bottom ones, so that when she sat down a great deal of leg was revealed. Charlotte’s legs could not compete with Georgina’s but they were shapely nonetheless. She had lost quite a lot of weight, she thought happily; her summer with Beau had done more for her than show her the delights of sex. She had had a lot of difficulty eating dinner at night, after her rapturous afternoons, and she had been so strung up at lunchtime anticipating them, she hadn’t been able to eat then either. It would probably all go back on now, she thought ruefully.

  She put on a lot of eye make-up, brushed her dark hair rather wildly back from her face, sprayed herself liberally with Rive Gauche, and went down to meet Toby feeling rather pleased with herself. He came towards her smiling, his hands stretched out to take hers. She found herself surprisingly pleased to see him; she had forgotten how good-looking he was, and leant forward and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  ‘Charlotte! You look gorgeous. I love the hair. Is that how they wear it in Massachusetts?’

  ‘It’s how I wore it in Massachusetts.’

  ‘Well I wish I’d been there. Was it fun?’

  ‘Great fun.’ An image of Beau, stark naked, kneeling above her in the sailing boat, swam suddenly in front of Charlotte’s eyes; she smiled rather weakly at Toby.

  ‘Good. Well, shall we go? Or is your father about? I’d like to say hallo to him.’

  ‘No, he’s out on the estate somewhere,’ said Charlotte hastily. Alexander didn’t like Toby.

  ‘Right. Look, like my new wheels?’

  The new wheels were an Aston Martin convertible, dark green with whitewall tyres. Charlotte whistled admiringly.

  ‘It’s gorgeous, Toby. Is that the fruits of your new job in the City?’

  ‘Well – Father thought I should have a decent car. It’s important, you know. To give a good impression.’

  ‘I’m sure.’ She smiled at him. Pompous idiot, she thought.

  Toby drove her very fast into Marlborough; they stopped halfway at a pub and had a drink. Or several drinks. By the time they reached the restaurant, Charlotte’s head was spinning agreeably.

  Toby had ordered a bottle of champagne; it was waiting in an ice bucket by their table.

  ‘Toby!’ said Charlotte. ‘What largesse.’

  ‘Yes, well, it seemed a rather special evening to me. We’ve never managed to go out on our own together. And I – well, I was wondering if –’

  He looked at her rather seriously; she laughed awkwardly and looked about her. ‘I love this place, don’t you? Oh look, there’s Sarah and Dominic. Let’s go and say hallo.’

  They didn’t just say hallo to Sarah and Dominic, Charlotte suggested they joined them. ‘It’d be much more fun. Come on, just get the waiter to bring over two more chairs, and maybe another bottle of bubbly, Toby.’

  ‘Fine,’ said Toby. He was looking a trifle tight-lipped.

  They were all four friends from childhood; Sarah was a plain, rather horsey girl, and Dominic was a hearty, rugger-bugger type who was struggling through his degree course in agriculture at Cirencester with some difficulty. He had always admired Charlotte; she was quite drunk by now and flirting outrageously with both men.

  ‘Come on, Sarah, now you sit in the corner, and Dom, you go there on the inside. Then Toby can order the waiter about more easily. Oh Dominic, it’s heaven to see you, you look sort of weather-beaten and sexy – a sort of upper-crust Mellors. Is that what agricultural college does for you? Toby darling, maybe you should have done agriculture instead of going into the City. You wouldn’t be quite so pale and interesting-looking. Now what shall we all have to eat? They’ve got lobster. Oh, you should have seen the lobsters we had on Nantucket. Huge, with those enormous phallic claws. I used to have the most odd dreams afterwards. Now what have you two been doing all summer while I’ve been disporting myself with lobsters? Oh, I’m so glad we all found each other. I’ve been so bored, with everyone away, this is just the best fun in the world.’

  By the end of dinner, Toby was in a serious sulk, Sarah was giggling and trying to behave as outrageously and sexily as Charlotte, and Dominic was nodding off over his port. Charlotte decided she wanted to go dancing. Toby could take her to Tramp.

  Out in the car, Toby looked at her in silence. Then he started it and moved off at great speed down the main street.

  ‘Toby, this isn’t right. This isn’t towards London. Turn round.’

  ‘No, Charlotte. I’m not turning round. You’re in no fit state to go to Tramp. I’m taking you home.’

  ‘Toby! Are you implying I’m drunk?’

  ‘No. I’m
telling you you’re drunk.’

  ‘I am not.’ She reached out and stroked the back of his neck. ‘How masterful you are, Toby. How wonderfully masterful. Wasn’t that a fun evening? Don’t you think?’

  ‘No,’ said Toby. ‘No, I don’t.’

  ‘Oh. Well that’s a shame.’ She looked at him in silence for a moment, then said, ‘You’re really very good-looking, Toby. Very good-looking.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Do stop the car a minute will you?’

  He gave her a startled look and pulled over to the side of the road. Charlotte leant towards him and kissed him hard on the mouth.

  ‘Gorgeous,’ she said briefly. ‘Gorgeous. Goodness, sex is fun.’

  Toby started the car again and drove it very hard out of town; then he swung left and took a turn that said Savernake Forest. Charlotte lay back, a smug expression on her face, half asleep.

  She came to herself with a jolt when she felt the car stop. Toby had parked at the end of a rutted lane. He was looking at her with an odd expression.

  ‘Goodness,’ said Charlotte, sober suddenly, ‘what happened? Did we break down or something, Toby?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘No we didn’t break down. But I might in a minute. Come on, Charlotte, let’s get out.’

  ‘No. Oh all right. Just for a bit.’

  She got out. Toby dragged a rug out of the boot and draped it on the grass verge. He sat down on it. ‘Come on,’ he said, ‘come on, Charlotte. We have a lot of unfinished business to pursue. Don’t we?’

  ‘Well, I –’

  ‘Oh, Charlotte, don’t go all coy on me. You know I’ve always fancied you.’

  ‘Toby! You’ve been having a wild old time, from what I’ve heard.’

  ‘Yes, I have. But I never quite got over you, Charlotte. I’ve never forgotten that night at the party. Have you?’

  ‘No,’ said Charlotte. It seemed easier. What party? What was he talking about? Her head was spinning.

  ‘Come down and join me,’ said Toby patting the rug again. ‘Come and be comfy.’

  Charlotte looked at him doubtfully. Then she sat down. Toby pushed her onto her back and began to kiss her. He had always kissed well; she remembered now. Not as well as Beau, but it was all right. She returned the kiss.

  Toby’s hands began to move into her dress. She felt them caressing the mounds of her breasts; then confidently, deliberately on her nipples. Charlotte, briefly torn between enjoying the sensations he was evoking and a sense of disloyalty to Beau, relaxed suddenly. Beau was thousands of miles away. A little heavy petting wouldn’t hurt. Toby’s hands were under her dress now, exploring upwards, stroking her bare brown legs, working his way up her thighs. He reached her pants; she felt his fingers rather awkwardly, tentatively in her pubic hair. She squirmed, aroused in spite of herself, and Toby felt the signal.

  He sat up suddenly, away from her, unzipping his fly, dragging down his trousers; Charlotte carefully averted her eyes.

  He leant towards her again, started pulling at her pants; she smiled at him, and tugged them off herself. The combination of the drink and the sudden sharp reminder of sexual pleasure was too much for her. She lay back, her face, her eyes, her wild hair an irresistible invitation. She felt excited now, everything blotted out, except the hot, beating urgency of her own desire; Toby started kissing her again, and then as she thrust her body upwards, against him, entered her quite suddenly, hard and relentless. Charlotte closed her eyes again and abandoned herself to pleasure.

  Only there was none. Toby thrust into her four or five times, kissing her frantically; she had scarcely begun to soften to him, to feel any kind of pleasure when he moaned, came and collapsed onto her. Charlotte lay in the moonlight, looking up at the sky, with a sense of total betrayal. Where was it, the joy she had learnt to experience, the mounting leaping heat, the tumbling explosion, the sweet peace? All she felt was a dreadful aching emptiness that was almost pain. She lay and she didn’t move and she felt quite sober, and deeply ashamed suddenly.

  ‘That was great,’ said Toby, moving off her, turning onto his back. ‘Really great. Are you all right?’

  ‘Er – yes,’ said Charlotte slightly uncertainly.

  ‘Sorry I didn’t put a johnny on. Got a bit carried away. But you should be all right, shouldn’t you? Dates OK?’

  ‘Er – yes,’ said Charlotte again. ‘I think so.’ Outrage was beginning to replace the emptiness. There was no way she was going to tell Toby she was on the pill; let him worry for a while.

  ‘So was that OK for you? I thought it was terrific.’

  Charlotte turned to look at him. She thought she had never hated anyone so much as she did Toby at that moment, lying there with a self-satisfied expression on his face, his trousers still around his knees. ‘Actually no,’ she said coldly. She sat up, looking around for her pants.

  ‘What? Oh sorry, darling. Look, don’t worry, it’s often not too hot the first time. You’ll get better at it.’

  Charlotte looked at him in silence for quite a while, deliberately bestowing a lingering gaze on his small limp penis. Then she smiled, a tight, cold little smile.

  ‘Toby,’ she said, ‘I think you have a little to learn. A lot even, it seems. That was not the first time, you will obviously be surprised to learn; I am equally surprised that you should have thought it was. Moreover, I don’t think I have to get better at it, I have very often managed to enjoy it enormously. On the other hand, I think you need to get quite a bit better at it. Your technique, if indeed what I have just endured can be dignified with such a term, leaves a great deal to be desired. Now perhaps we could go home. I’m very tired.’

  She stood up, pulling on her pants, and then walked towards the car; as she reached it, Toby grabbed her by her shoulders and turned her roughly round.

  ‘You bitch,’ he said, ‘you slut. You filthy little self-satisfied slut. Well, blood will out. It’s obviously all true.’

  Charlotte stared at him. ‘I don’t have the first idea what you mean,’ she said.

  ‘Oh really? Well you would say that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Toby,’ she said, ‘please explain. And please let go of me. You’re hurting me.’

  ‘Oh, get in the car,’ he said suddenly, obviously regretting his words. ‘Just get in and let’s go.’

  ‘Toby,’ said Charlotte, ‘I want to know what you meant by that. What’s obviously all true?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Toby. ‘Get in the car.’

  Charlotte got in in silence. He started the car, backed up the track, and started driving fast along the main road. Charlotte looked at his face, set and white in the moonlight, and felt a great shudder of unease. She didn’t say any more until Toby pulled up in front of Hartest. Then she turned to him.

  ‘Toby,’ she said, ‘if you don’t tell me what you meant, I shall run up those steps and wake up the whole house and say you just raped me.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare. They wouldn’t believe you.’

  ‘I would certainly dare, and they would believe me. I’m a very good actress, I have mud on my legs and leaves and twigs in my hair and certain irrefutable evidence in my body. My father would find it extremely difficult not to believe me. Now then, just tell me what the hell you were talking about.’

  ‘Oh, Charlotte, don’t make me. Please. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s a little late for that. Toby, would you just begin, please?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Right.’ She opened the door, stepped out and opened her mouth to scream. Toby, moving with impressive speed, dragged her back in and put his hand over her mouth.

  ‘Shut up. Just shut up. I’ll tell you.’

  ‘All right, I’ll shut up. Get talking.’

  ‘You – you won’t like it,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘And it’s only gossip. Stupid Wiltshire gossip.’

  ‘Fine. I like gossip. Just begin, will you.’

&nbs
p; ‘Yes, all right, Charlotte. I’m only amazed none of it has reached you before.’

  ‘None of what?’

  ‘This. The gossip.’

  ‘Well it hasn’t. You’re in the privileged position of being Lead Gossip. Go on, Toby.’

  ‘Well – all right. Don’t blame me, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.’

  There was a long silence. Toby looked frantically out of the window. Charlotte moved to open her door again. He grabbed her hand suddenly and held it, surprisingly gently.

  ‘I just hate this,’ he said, ‘hate having to hurt you. I’ve always liked you so much. I might not have shown it this evening, but I have. But – well, Charlotte, the gossip is that – well, you and your sister are not actually your father’s. And that your mother has had a lot of affairs.’

  There was a long silence. A very long silence. Charlotte sat quite still, her face set, staring at him. She did not take her hand away. Then she said, ‘When did you hear this?’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I’ve heard it a few times. Honestly. I’ve never said anything to anyone. Said I didn’t believe it, actually.’

  ‘Who have you heard it from?’

  ‘Oh – a couple of girls. You know how girls gossip.’

  ‘No, actually,’ said Charlotte.

  ‘Well they do. And I once heard my mother and a friend of hers talking, by the tennis court. Georgina was playing with someone, you weren’t there. My mother said how unlike the two of you were, and her friend said well, surely my mother had heard the gossip, that neither of you were your – were Lord Caterham’s children – Charlotte, don’t look like that, you and Georgina are amazingly different looking. That at least is true. And neither of you looks in the least like Max. Now he does look like your father.’