by Mary Beeken
“They look and smell divine would you not say,” Glenmore commented, holding the now open box within tongue licking distance of the butler whose strangulated reply could not be understood. “But as I say if you are sure, I shall be on my way.”
“Wait!” The ping of that very fine, much stretched thread was very loud in Coulton’s conscience but he ignored it. “On reflection, I am sure you are right and she did not mean your good self when she stated no visitors. If you just hand over the basket I will direct you to her.” He took hold of the basket but the Duke kept hold of it.
“How about you show me where she is and will hand over the goodies when we get there!” Glenmore was taking no chances of having his bribe snatched from his hands and the house barred to him again.
“A wily one aren’t you?” Coulton grumbled as it had been his intention to lock the Duke out once he had the basket in his grasp. “This way then.”
Markus and Coulton traipsed across the hall with the basket suspended between them with it being tugged first one way and then the other, until they reached a door. “She is in here,” Coulton told him though he stood blocking the way.
“As you say, I am a wily one so I will hand over the chocolate when I am in the open doorway of that room.” Glenmore nearly laughed at the angst on the other man’s all too expressive face when he realised he had been beaten.
They shuffled around in order to swap positions and Glenmore swiftly opened the door and backed across the threshold before releasing the bribe. Whilst Coulton adjusted his hold to accommodate the extra weight of what was quite a hefty chocolate hoard, Glenmore wasted no time in shutting and locking the door; offering up a prayer of thanks that the key was there. Although he had no qualms about flooring Coulton with a right hook if it came to fisticuffs, he doubted it would endear him to Dizzy and he was understandably relieved to avoid any confrontations of a physical nature.
Dizzy gave up her attempts to save the creature whose tail dangled from the jaws of her killer cat. She was pretty sure it was unlikely to survive even if she had managed to detach it from its tormentor and therefore consoled herself that it was probably better to be eaten swiftly than to linger, painfully injured, waiting for some other predator to come along. She hobbled back to the drawing room and closed the French doors.
“You are not coming in here.” she told her through the glass and then screeched when a voice behind her answered.
“Too late sweetheart for I am already inside!”
“What? ..How?....Who?.... I heard Coulton send you away so how did…? You bribed him didn’t you?” she accused him. “That’s despicable!”
“Perhaps but then you do it all the time!” he told her and as she had no defence and could not deny it she wisely changed the subject.
“Be that as it may, the fact remains that I am not up to visitors and therefore you must leave,” she told him primly.
“So are you going to tell me what bees have got into your bonnet?” he asked, choosing to ignore her previous comment.
“I really do not know what you are on about! I am tired and need to rest.”
“Oh cut line Dizzy. You are jealous. You saw Hester and me together last night and jumped to all sorts of conclusions,” he stated leaning his shoulder against the door and crossing his arms. His self satisfied smile made Dizzy see red.
“You would think that because being so conceited and arrogant you think every woman must be madly in love with you.”
“Not every woman; just you! Do not try and deny it,” he added when she gasped in outrage. “We will leave that for now, but I will say you have no need to be jealous of Hester.”
Dizzy growled and he laughed, pushing himself away from the door and walking towards her where she stood by the French doors. “Shall I tell you why I was meeting her this morning, Gherkin? Will it make you feel better if I explain?”
“There is no need. We are acquaintances only Glenmore and what you do with other people is no concern of mine,” she told him and wanting to put something solid between them she moved forward, cursing when her leg slowed her down. “Bitterballens!”
“You really have knocked yourself up haven’t you?” Marcus said concerned as he watched her limping. “Your brother told me you limp when you are tired, but I thought he was exaggerating.”
“Well now you know he wasn’t so perhaps you would leave and I can rest,” she uttered crossly.
“I can do better than that darling girl.” And striding up to her he swung her into his arms and carried her over to the sofa where he sat down with her cradled on his lap.
“Glenmore! I did not need to be carried and I do not think it is appropriate for me to be sat on your lap,” she said struggling to be released.
“Again!” he muttered
“What?”
“You should have said again! You have sat on my lap before,” he explained. “You might as well sit comfortably because I am not going to release you!”
“What if someone comes in?” She asked. “You should let me go.”
“The door is locked and no I don’t want to let you go. Not until you have listened to me.”
“Very well,” Dizzy ceased her efforts to break free. “Quickly say what you must say so that I can get on with my day and you can go.”
“Ross and I met Hester and Fenchurch in Spain when we were surrounded by the enemy and capture seemed imminent. In a situation like that, strong bonds are formed. We had to trust and rely heavily on each other if we were to make it out of there alive; which obviously we did though it was a close run thing. Hester and Fenchurch fell in love during that time and married soon after we reached safety. I was his best man. ”
“Were you upset that she married him?” Dizzy asked
“Of course I wasn’t. Hester and I are good friends nothing more.”
“It did not look like that last night!” she muttered under her breath which he heard all too clearly much to her chagrin.
“Just as I said; you are jealous,” he crowed, “but you need not be. She is deeply in love with her husband which brings me nicely to why I had agreed to meet her today whilst he was out of the way. Fenchurch is an avid collector of art and more especially cartoons. He has several drawn by Francisco de Goya. In his collection he also has some rather risqué ones and Hester has arranged for a cartoonist to draw some with her and Fenchurch as the subjects. I merely accompanied her this morning to collect them as I did when she place the order.”
“She has asked a cartoonist to produce risqué pictures of her and her husband?” Dizzy asked suspiciously “And you expect me to believe that?”
“I can describe them if you like,” he offered “However, having seen them I have to say that although there is a vague similarity in features to her and Fenchurch in every other respect they are nothing like.” and when she remained silent he continued. “One has a rather buxom Hester sitting on a weedy Fenchurch who is salivating over her exposed breasts. In his defence they are the size of prize water melons!” When she laughed he added “It is actually not that dissimilar from how we are sitting now.”
“Apart from the fact that my breasts are not exposed and neither are they the size of water melons!” she said looking down at her front.
“And I am not weedy but I cannot deny I am salivating a little bit over your unexposed breasts.” As she watched he placed his hand on one of her breasts and gently squeezed. Dizzy sharply sucked in air at the impact his touch was having on her body. It was instant and shocking. Her breast tingled through the cloth of her dress and a bolt of hot desire shot through her. When he rubbed his thumb over the hardening bud she gripped his shoulder to hold herself steady. He continued to fondle her breast as he told her about the second picture.
“In the next drawing he is not weedy but strong and masterful and has her over his knee, spanking her nude bottom.”
“Was she not embarrassed that you saw these pictures?” Dizzy asked, going red just at the thought of him seeing pictures of her; albeit ca
rtoon ones.
“The artist showed them to me when she was conversing with his wife. She would probably be mortified if she knew I had seen them but then again” he shrugged “she did tell me herself that she was having naughty pictures drawn for his birthday, so perhaps she wouldn’t be.”
“Do you collect naughty pictures?” she asked.
“No but plenty of men do.”
“So when Grandmamma told me to turn down any offer a gentleman made to show me his etchings; this is what she meant?”
Glenmore choked on a laugh.
“Perhaps I will say yes next time!” she muttered.
“Oh no you won’t my girl,” he replied suddenly serious “If you want to view risqué pictures I shall ask Fenchurch to show you his collection. When someone asks if you would like to see their etchings, they are not referring to drawings!”
“Oh!” she said the penny suddenly dropping. “What about the third drawing? We have had naked breasts and a naked bottom so what is in the third one?”
“I could not possibly tell you for it is not for innocent maidens.”
“I would not have thought the other two were either but you told me. The third one cannot be any worse,” she said.
“All I will say is that she is making him very happy!” he told her and laughed when she scowled at him. “I promise to tell you when we are better acquainted.”
“That is to say you will not because we are not going to be better acquainted.”
“Oh yes we are. I can see us now enacting out each one of those drawings and I believe you can too!” he told her and laughed when she blushed fiery red.
She looked down to where his hand still rested on her breast and he followed her gaze; noting how perfect it felt in his palm. Although not large, it was big enough to fill his hand and as he began to gently massage it, he felt the papilla harden into a tight bud. Looking back up he was delighted to see her reaction to his touch. Her eyes were heavy with passion and as he watched, the fiery blush of embarrassment from moments before softened into a flush of desire. He swapped to the other, as yet untouched breast and when the bud peaked, he rolled it gently between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting a small gasp from her. Marcus tightened his hold on her, drawing her close enough to kiss her slightly parted lips and when she wound her arms around his neck he deepened it, plunging his tongue into her mouth and entwining it with hers.
“My God Gherkin, you taste so good,” he rasped when he broke the kiss in order to try and retain some control over his painfully aroused body. He could not bear to stop touching her altogether though and rained kisses over her face and neck; nipping her earlobe and gently tugging it with his teeth. “Do you have any idea what you do to me, sweetheart? How much I want to take you now; make love to you until you scream my name?”
Any reply she may have made was cut off when his lips once again sought hers in a scorching kiss that had them both panting and wanting more. Determined to release the breast he was holding from its fabric prison so that he could fondle it skin to skin and draw its hardened nipple into his mouth, he found the buttons at the back of her dress, but he had only slipped two from their holes when the unmistakeable sound of voices was heard from beyond the door.
Glenmore cursed long and hard but knew, unless they were to be caught in a compromising position he would have to stifle the urge to take her there and then and act quickly. “It sounds like Coulton has gathered reinforcements,” he murmured into her ear.
Coulton had been unsuccessfully trying to dislodge the key from the lock so that he could open the door with the spare when Gideon strode in the front door. Checking for only a moment he continued on until he stood beside his butler and casually asked him what he was doing. A lifetime of experience had taught him that though Coulton’s actions may seem peculiar, he usually made them seem perfectly reasonable when asked and therefore he was not unduly concerned to see him on his knees prodding the lock of the drawing room door.
“Is there a problem, Coulton?” he asked lightly.
“It’s that Duke fellow! Gone and locked the door he has and I cannot dislodge it,” Coulton said, all the while jiggling the spare key in the lock.
“Duke fellow? Do you mean Glenmore? What is he doing here?”
“Wanted to speak to your sister and tricked his way in he did, despite me saying she weren’t seeing no-one.”
“Is Dizzy in there with him?” Gideon no longer found the situation amusing and concern made his tone sharp. “Why the hell didn’t you say that to start with and why in God’s name are you messing around here when you could have used the French doors?” he shouted, striding purposefully out the front door and around the side of the house.
“Now why didn’t I think of that?” Coulton still kneeling in the hall asked; totally bemused.
When Gideon stomped round to the rear garden he was surprised to find the doors open and the drawing room empty. It was only as he looked about him did he spy Glenmore and Dizzy sitting decorously on a garden bench under the shade of a tree with a good twelve inches between them. To his immense relief he noted that she appeared in no way distressed and in fact the opposite was true, she looked relaxed and was smiling. He strolled over to them.
“Glenmore,” he said eyeing him suspiciously. “I hear you used trickery to get past our butler. Are you a magician then for Coulton is not normally outwitted?”
“Not trickery but bribery! Something I learned from your family, I might add. Coulton put up a magnificent fight but in the end the hoard of chocolate won out. In his defence it was a huge stash of top quality, mouth-watering chocolate from the finest manufacturers in London.” Marcus explained.
Gideon grunted then said “I assume that as you are sitting here perfectly civilized with each other, you have sorted out your differences?”
Dizzy disputed there was anything amiss. “I was tired and needed a rest.”
“Now now, Gherkin,” Glenmore said “You were jealous; admit it!”
“I was not jealous at all!” she cried, shooting daggers at the Duke who just grinned back.
“I am here to issue an invitation, Brockton,” he said, removing an envelope from his pocket. “In a couple of weeks I am hosting a house party at my residence in Kent and would very much like your family to attend; including Alfie and Mrs Honey Dew of-course.”
“Naturally I will have to consult with the others but I am sure we will all be delighted to attend,” Gideon told him with a smile that bordered on smug. Dizzy frowned at him but he took no notice. It appeared to him that his matchmaking was coming to fruition for why else would Glenmore invite the whole clan to a house party unless he was seriously considering offering for his sister. No, Dizzy could scowl all she liked but he was confident he would soon be watching her walk, or more likely trip in her case, down the isle; a married woman. He winked at her and she growled much to Glenmore’s amusement who watched the siblings; correctly interpreting their thoughts by their expressions.
“Did you say something, Gherkin?” he enquired innocently, raising an eyebrow at her.
The urge to discompose him and wipe the grin from Gideon’s face was too strong so going on the offensive she said, “Glenmore and I are not planning to marry he is only using me as a decoy so you can stop feeling so smug. As for you, Glenmore you should be hanging your head in shame for getting his hopes up. Do you not know how desperate he is to marry off his sisters? I would find it excessively amusing to see you caught in Parson’s trap, if it were not that your shenanigans would see me there too.”
Of-course neither man felt in the least bit chastened and just smirked which made her growl all the more. Standing up she bade the Duke a frosty farewell and stomped off towards the house but the dramatic affect was marred by the limp and the burst of laughter from her tormentors.
Chapter Ten
Avoidance; that was the answer, Dizzy decided the following morning as she nibbled on some toast and drank her second cup of coffee. Did the proverbs not s
ay; ‘out of sight, out of mind’ and ‘what the eye does not see, the heart does not yearn for’? Of-course she would dismiss the one that states ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ as it did not fit nicely into her present way of thinking.
She loved him and although she would refute it should anyone suggest it to her; she could no longer deny it to herself. He was temptation personified and Dizzy knew that it was only a matter of time and opportunity before she gave in to that temptation with disastrous consequences for her well being. She had often felt disdain for the girls who went in for excessive sentimentality; but right now she really felt that her heart was in danger of being broken into two. Repairing it would be difficult indeed but Dizzy instinctively knew that if she did not put distance between herself and Glenmore; if she allowed him to make love to her then her heart would split into hundreds of little fragments which could never become whole again. Of-course if he loved her it would be different but he had made it quite clear that they were playing a game; one that would not continue for a ‘happy ever after’ but had a definite end that would coincide with the close of the season.
Dizzy knew it was a forlorn hope but she would start by trying to persuade her family from attending the house party which was to take place in a fortnight’s time and failing that, try to hit upon an excuse which would keep her away from it. Throwing herself under a passing carriage was perhaps a bit extreme but short of that there must be a reasonable and full proof excuse; she just needed to find it.
Over the following week, Dizzy was able to cry off from social engagements by claiming that she was still fatigued from too many late nights and early mornings and her Grandmother, with the house party to look forward to and convinced that a marriage proposal was imminent, did not push her.
It was a little more difficult to avoid Glenmore when he called which he did on a daily basis. She was able to absent herself during the fashionable visiting hours by simply taking herself off to her sister’s house or by sneaking away to a museum or art gallery, but then he began to call at differing times each day which was far harder to contend with. Fortunately Coulton, feeling guilty over succumbing to bribery, was not to be persuaded a second time and proved to be a stalwart protector; posting lookouts to warn of his Grace’s approach thus giving her time to secret herself away below stairs whilst he declared her out. Occasionally she would be forced to remain there for quite a while as Glenmore would gain access to the house on the pretext of seeing one or other of her siblings and sometimes even the dowager.