Dizzy Dilemmas

by Mary Beeken

  “Potts was Honey’s maiden name. Her parents had a sense of humour it seems,” Dizzy explained. “They called her sister Flower!”

  “No!” Glenmore said in total disbelief, wanting very much to laugh but unsure whether it would cause offence. “Does she have a brother called Ink by any chance?”

  “Of course not! That would be silly!” Dizzy frowned at him. “Her brother is called Paignton; Paint for short.”

  Offence or no, Marcus could not help but laugh and both Dizzy and Alfie joined in, causing the other occupants of the room to ask the root of their humour. Upon being told, Mrs. Honey Dew assured Marcus that it was all perfectly true.

  “Goodness knows what names my parents would have chosen had they been blessed with more progeny,” she said.

  “At least where your name is concerned Dizzy, my son and his wife acted in ignorance which cannot be said of your parents, Honey,” remarked the Dowager.

  “About her name!” Marcus said “I have yet to learn what it is. As I am almost family will someone not enlighten me?”

  “None of us are that brave!” replied Genevieve whilst everyone else shook their heads.

  “It will be a lovely surprise when you stand beside her at the altar,” The Dowager consoled him.

  “You can hardly expect me to propose to a girl without even knowing her name!” he tried to inveigle an answer from them.

  “Grandmamma rid your mind of the notion that Glenmore is courting me for it is merely a farce. There will be no proposal and no standing at the altar so you can drop the subject right now,” Dizzy stated firmly. “Now I believe it is time for us to go into dinner!”

  “Gherkin you wound me! I lay my heart at your dainty feet and still you will not look kindly on my suit,” Glenmore sighed dramatically.

  “Unnatural girl!” the Dowager blustered. “The perfect marriage prospect; handsome, titled and well heeled and you will not take him seriously. Mark my words; before long some other girl will snatch him up and you will kick yourself! You need to take measures to secure him, my girl!”

  “Is it only me who finds this conversation bizarre? Grandmamma if he is perfect husband material perhaps you should bring him up to scratch and marry him! Don’t laugh Glenmore,” she threw over her shoulder as she stomped out the door. “You are in danger of overplaying your hand and I might just marry you to teach you a well deserved lesson.”

  “Perhaps you should compromise her and be done with it, Glenmore,” suggested the Dowager shocking a gasp out of her other two granddaughters and a laugh from her grandsons.

  “She is jesting,” Gabriel assured Marcus but everyone was dumbfounded when the Dowager told them she most definitely was not.

  With only nine to sit down to dinner and it being an informal family affair, several leaves had been removed from the dining table to create a more intimate atmosphere. As was the tradition, the one whose birthday it was chose the menu, and so Alfie had requested a selection of dishes that were his particular favourite including oysters; beef marinated in wine and poached pears.

  Dizzy recognised her tactical error as soon as she entered the dining room. Being first meant that the rest of her family would leave the seat next to her free for Glenmore. She therefore made a show of talking to Eric the footman, ostensibly checking that all was ready but delaying having to take her place so that she could seat herself as far from the Duke as possible which would not be nearly far enough given the size of the table. She shuddered at the thought of the meal which in all likelihood would last around three hours with her family watching her every move and analysing each word she exchanged with the Duke. Her sisters, glad of a respite from their grandmother’s matchmaking now that she had Dizzy to focus her intentions on, would sympathize with her but not assist in anyway lest they draw unwanted attentions on themselves. Whilst ever there was real potential to marry off their little sister, they were safe. Of-course, should Dizzy actually marry then they would once again become the victims of the Dowager’s machinations but whilst she remained unattached they could enjoy the freedom; long may it last.

  “Come along Gherkin, delaying the inevitable will not make it any better,” Glenmore said offering her his arm. “Your Grandmother will insist we seat beside each other and will order a complete table reshuffle if necessary so you might as well give in gracefully now.”

  “I never do anything gracefully, Glenmore as you should probably know by now. This is just going to be dreadful and I hold you entirely to blame! If you keep up this ridiculous scheme of yours it will only get worse; we will be watched like hawks everywhere we go and they will pick over all our words and gestures!” she told him grumpily.

  “They would not if we were married,” he pointed out.

  “No but then may I remind you, this farce was devised by you so that you could avoid marriage. Remember?” she said; exasperation lacing her tone.

  “So it was, sweetheart, so it was.”

  Her worse fears were not to be realised Dizzy was glad to note a short while into the celebration meal. Her family having got their way in the seating seemed content to leave them alone and as the whole affair was informal, society rules that dictated one spoke only to those on either side of you were soon set aside so that a general conversation in which everyone could contribute could thrive.

  The Brockton family, Glenmore soon discovered were a rather argumentative lot when they got going. A number of topics were introduced and on each occasion it was not long before they were disputing each other’s opinions; even going so far as to getting quite heated over some issues. Whilst they wrangled with each other, Glenmore noted that Alfie serenely ate his dinner only interjecting a comment when he was called upon to clarify a particular scientific point. Mrs Honey Dew, whilst holding some strong views of her own took on and was accepted in the role of mediator and she was often called upon to restore order and make a judgement. Although her findings were not always appreciated by the losing side, her ruling was accepted without rancour and everyone would move onto the next subject matter. Politics; usually the domain of male only gatherings were discussed and Glenmore noted that, although they did not agree with each other; they were all Whigs in their outlook.

  Whilst the others were debating the length of the working day for the average factory worker, Marcus took the opportunity to have a private word with Dizzy.

  “This reminds me very much of sitting down to eat with Erica’s family. They are not as argumentative as you lot but definitely as loud, with everyone trying to talk at once and interrupting each other.”

  “And how do you find it? Do you favour the more formal approach?” she asked.

  “I find it vastly entertaining and much prefer it to the dinner parties I normally attend, although they do have their place I suppose. Tell me, do you ever come to blows?”

  “Not now but we used to when we were children. It was better really because we would have a fight and then it would all be forgotten. Now there are occasions when we will not speak to each other and that can drag on for days. The longest was between Genevieve and Georgiana and it was a full two weeks before they would agree to disagree. As I recall Mrs Honey Dew had to be fetched from her sister’s house where she was staying at the time, to come and act as intermediary. Do not worry though, we tend to always follow the same format; serious subjects over the savoury courses and more light-hearted topics over the deserts. It must be the sugar content that puts us all into a more frivolous state of mind,” she explained.

  “Is that when your grandmother share her jokes?” he wanted to know.

  “No she used to save those for poor Colonel Thwaites. I wonder if she has anyone in mind to replace him,” she said, directing a coy smile at Marcus which had him sucking in his breath as lust shot through him.

  “Perhaps you should ask her? Though some thought would have to go into how you would phrase the question,” he mused. “Would you go for the euphemism approach or the more direct line?”

  “I was thin
king more of ‘Grandmamma, who is to be the next lucky recipient of your ….anecdotes?’ Do you think that adequate?” the look she sent him now was purely provocative.

  “I will give you anecdotes! You my girl are a minx,” he told her and she laughed, her blue eyes alight with amusement. “And now you will have to pay a forfeit.”

  “A forfeit?” she queried.

  He leaned closer and lowering his voice said “A young lady cannot send a gentleman the look you gave me without a forfeit. Have you not read the guide book on such matters?”

  “No because it does not exist!”

  “I assure you it does. I shall lend you my copy,” Marcus said magnanimously. “But let us return to the forfeit.”

  Dizzy sighed “Alright let us agree upon a forfeit though I still think it is all a ruse on your part.”

  “My darling Gherkin, I am afraid you have misunderstood. It is for me to set the forfeit and for you to comply; there is no ‘agreeing upon’.”

  “Oh come on! You have windmills if you think you can have carte blanche to set me any forfeit you like and expect me to fulfil it!” She told him and then, becoming aware of the sudden hush around the table continued, “Why has it all gone quiet? They are all listening in, aren’t they?”

  “Yes dear sister we are!” announced Gideon before Marcus could do anything more than nod. “And we are all intrigued to know why you must pay a forfeit.”

  “Not to say all agog to hear what it is to be.” chimed the Dowager.

  She prided herself on being able to think quickly but at this moment Dizzy was horrified to realise that no reasonable explanation came to mind and there was no way she was going to disclose the truth; the very thought of it made her cringe with embarrassment besides which her grandmother would more than likely slay her there and then. She looked beseechingly at Glenmore but he just sat there smiling benignly and waiting for her to extricate herself and she also strongly suspected that he was hoping she would make a mull of it and end up even deeper in trouble.

  “How much of our conversation did you hear?” she demanded, buying herself some time to think.

  “Just the last bit about the forfeit,” Georgiana assured her even though it earned her a scowl from her brothers who wanted Dizzy to think they had heard more.

  “It really is not at all interesting. Glenmore merely dared me to drink a glass of brandy and as I was unable to force more than a sip down my throat, he says I must pay a forfeit,” Dizzy said dismissively.

  “You do not really expect us to believe that?” asked Gabriel. “We are not simpletons.”

  “You can choose to believe it or not. It is the only explanation I am prepared to give,” Dizzy told them dismissively but she should have known her brothers would not give in.

  “Glenmore did you ask her to drink a brandy?”

  “Gentlemen, you put me in an awkward position. To contradict it would be to call your sister a liar, would it not?” Dizzy breathed a sigh of relief at his words but then he continued, “And to concur would turn me into a liar.”

  “Glenmore!” Dizzy managed through clenched teeth as laughter echoed around the table.

  “Did you say something, my sweet gherkin?” he asked, looking smug.

  “Did you growl, dear?” asked her grandmother. “I do not think it is any more appropriate for a young lady to growl at the dining table than it is in a ballroom.”

  “It is perfectly acceptable when one has an oaf for a dinner partner,” Dizzy retorted, glaring at the Duke who sat grinning next to her.

  “Perhaps you should have your desserts before someone gets stabbed with the paring knife!” Coulton interrupted and plonked a dish down in front of Dizzy whilst glowering at the younger men. “Eat that my girl and take no notice of their teasing. If they carry on they will forego their pudding!”

  “Thank you, Coulton for your support,” Dizzy said smirking at her tormentors.

  “I am not supporting you as such, but if this nonsense continues it will be midnight before I will get to put my feet up and have my tea and chocolate, and that will never do!” He muttered crossly.

  “Saved by the butler, Gherkin,” Glenmore could not resist saying and this time no one could mistake the ominous growl that reverberated around the room.

  Later when the ladies had left the gentlemen to their port, Gabriella asked her youngest sister why the Duke called her ‘Gherkin’.

  “He hopes to annoy me into telling him my name, but naturally it is not going to work. He sees it as a challenge,” she explained.

  “I think it is rather sweet, actually,” Mrs Honey Dew joined the conversation. “It is like an endearment but more personal; more individual to you Dizzy.”

  Dizzy laughed at that “Are you saying I resemble a gherkin, Honey? I must say it is an odd sort of endearment to be compared to a vegetable but I do know what you mean. It could have been much worse.”

  “Perhaps when you marry, gherkins could be the theme in the table decorations!” Georgiana suggested.

  “We could have gherkins instead of flowers at the church,” piped up Gabriella.

  “And gherkin soup with gherkin salad,” The Dowager added, warming to the theme.

  “I could wear a gherkin coloured gown and sport gherkins in my hair too,” Dizzy laughed.

  “I am not sure the colour would suit you, my dear,” Mrs Honey Dew said thoughtfully “Perhaps you should keep that for your bridesmaids.”

  “I am not wearing gherkin green!” Gabriella and Georgiana said in unison, mock horror on their faces and everyone laughed.

  As the gentlemen joined them soon after, the wedding theme was dropped and a more general conversation broke out until the tea tray was brought in. Only then did Marcus manage to draw Dizzy away for a few moments of quiet conversation.

  “The after dinner chat you were having seemed to be more amusing than ours,” he said as he raised the fine bone china cup to his lips.

  “You would have found it funny too,” she announced brightly, and then waited until he was drinking before adding, “We were planning our wedding!”

  If she was hoping to unsettle him she was doomed to be disappointed for he calmly took another sip and then placed the cup back in its saucer. Smiling at her he asked, “Were you hoping I would choke on this delicious tea and breathe my last?”

  “Yes actually!” she laughed. “Although I had hoped to have the opportunity to thwack you on your back several times before you succumbed; all in an effort to save you and not to pound you into the grave, you understand.”

  “I am sorry to have ruined your fun, Gherkin. Better luck next time!” He consoled her with a lopsided grin.

  “The theme is to be gherkins and I am to wear them in my hair and have a gown of the same colour. I hope you approve. Though I will admit I will probably look ghastly in gherkin green!” she said pulling a sickly face.

  “You are right. You would probably frighten the vicar,” he agreed solemnly.

  “It is not gentlemanly of you to agree with me, Glenmore,” she pointed out. “Mustapha Mummy would have said that in his eyes I would look beautiful in any colour!”

  “Now that is a blatant lie my girl because as we both know he does not speak and has no eyes. If it is compliments you want, you need only have said for I can oblige,” he told her. “Where shall I start?”

  “No, the moment is lost, Your Grace,” Dizzy sighed forlornly though the hint of a smile belied it somewhat. “Any compliment you bestowed now would be empty indeed.”

  “You are right, of-course so let me make amends by telling you precisely what I would like to do with you were we alone,” his voice became lower, more sensual as he continued. “I would start by nibbling your ear before trailing kisses down your slender neck and along your beautiful, bare shoulder until I reached the fabric of this very fetching gown you are wearing; just where it falls off onto your arm. Then I would follow it around until I could dip my tongue down between your breasts which I would have cupped in m
y hands. I am sure with a little tug this dress could be persuaded to give up its treasures; to expose each perfect orb so I could stroke them with my palms and thumbs before taking each in turn into my mouth and caressing them with my tongue. Can you imagine how it would feel sweetheart to have me touch you there; to have my mouth suck on your nipple?”

  She could imagine very well for her breathing was becoming short and her skin was tingling just as if he were actually touching her. Dizzy felt her nipples harden and an ache start deep down in her core and at that moment, mesmerized by his voice she wished her family were far away at their estate in Devon and not here in this room. For the first time, Dizzy understood why young, unmarried women were chaperoned so carefully and also she was partly shocked that she could so easily be persuaded to ignore the codes of conduct with which she had been raised. There was however something about this handsome Duke which tempted her unlike any of her suitors before. When he kissed her she melted and now she wanted nothing more than to tug her dress down and let him put his words into action. She tried telling herself that she found him incredibly exasperating and that she was his amusement during a Season he otherwise found tedious; but it did nothing to stop her wanting him; wanting to act recklessly; wantonly.

  Marcus watched the passion swirl in her eyes and cursed her family’s presence. He had expected her to stop him after the first sentence or two with some clever quip but she hadn’t and he had watched the passion build and brighten her beautiful eyes. He glanced at her breasts where the bodice of her dress did nothing to hide the hardened nipples that were just begging for his touch and when he again looked up into her face he knew she would welcome his caresses. As he watched her tongue slipped out and licked her lower lip and Marcus felt his already hardened cock swell some more. What had started out as his gentle teasing of her had him painfully aroused and desperately wanting to rip her clothes off there and then so that he could bury himself deep within her core which he had no doubt was hot, wet and ready for him. He had seriously miscalculated and knew that he was likely to spend a very uncomfortable night in a state of frustrated arousal.