Master Zane

by Maggie Carpenter

  "I'm so pleased you'll be coming. It will do you the world of good. You haven't been yourself, not since you ran off."

  "Sorry mother. It was a difficult few days, and perhaps you're right, perhaps I do need to get out, in fact I think I'll send a note over to Anne's and see if I can pop over for a visit. Don't you have Estelle and Elizabeth Fairmont coming to visit?"

  "Yes, dear, but I was rather hoping you'd be here."

  "Estelle is such a frightful bore, and Elizabeth only wants to talk about her clothes."

  "I thought you enjoyed Elizabeth's company."

  "I'm just not in the mood. I'm going to send Anne that note."

  Flora was now desperate to see Zane. She had to know if he would be at the ball and if he was attending as a guest of old Lord Featherstone. If that were true his reputation couldn't possibly be as bad as he believed. Leaving her breakfast unfinished, she hurried into the reception room at the front of the house, and sitting at the ornate desk she scribbled the quick note to Anne.

  My Dearest Friend.

  I must beg of you a most urgent favor. Can you please send a note to Zane De'Ville and ask him to come to your house right away? I simply must talk to him. I'll explain when I see you.

  Anxiously awaiting your response,

  Flora.

  Rising from the desk she paused. Anne would do the favor, of that she was sure, but would Zane respond? What would she do if he didn't, or worse, if he rejected the invitation?

  "I can't worry about that," she muttered moving swiftly back to the dining room. "I have to try."

  Reeves was still standing by the buffet, and walking briskly over to him she handed him the envelope.

  "Please give this to the footman immediately. As you can see it's only a few houses up the street, Lady Barkley's home. Ask him to wait for a response."

  "Right away, my lady."

  "You seem in a rush to see her?" Margaret remarked as Flora returned to the table and sat down.

  "Um, yes and no," Flora said vaguely. "I suppose I'm feeling a bit restless."

  "This weather does tend to make one feel claustrophobic. Have another cup of tea, and have something to eat, you barely touched your eggs."

  "I believe I will," Flora said with a happy smile.

  "You were quite glum earlier. What's brought about this change in attitude?"

  "Would it surprise you if I said it was the possibility of meeting this handsome stranger at the ball?"

  "Yes, it would, but I couldn't be more pleased."

  "Something just occurred to me," Flora said thoughtfully. "If this chap is handsome and charming and European, he could be a Casanova."

  "What of it?" her mother replied. "Once a man is married he is obligated to stop such behavior."

  "But wouldn't you and father be worried about me being with a man of ill-repute?"

  "Ill-repute?" her mother repeated. "Is there such a thing as a man of ill repute?"

  "You mean there isn't?"

  "I suppose there is. There are bounders, those men who carry debts and borrow outlandishly, men who are not reliable, but I don't think that's anything you need to be concerned about. Apparently this young man comes from a very wealthy family."

  "So, if he did have a bit of a reputation…?"

  "Wouldn't bother us in the least my dear, nor should it bother you. As I said, once a man is married he has no reason to continue such, shall we say, pursuits."

  "If you're not worried about such matters, then I won't be," Flora declared airily, and picking up her plate she moved to the buffet and piled it with eggs, cooked tomatoes, and two slices of ham. She was suddenly very hungry.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  At his desk in his office Zane was studying the latest report from his accountants in Paris. Many of the city's famous landmarks had been destroyed by the Communards following the Franco-Prussian war, and in 1871 his father had been involved in the raising of three-hundred-and-fifty million francs for their reconstruction. Envisioning the rebirth of the city he had invested heavily in other building projects, and his foresight had proven enormously profitable. Now the management of the huge estate was under Zane's meticulous care, but as he gazed at the documents he found his concentration wandering.

  Flora.

  The beautiful young woman with the cheeky mouth and brilliant mind had been haunting him, and he was grateful for the distraction of a knock on his door.

  "Come in."

  "Excuse me, your lordship," Bancroft said moving forward with an envelope on a silver tray, "but a young man just delivered this and is waiting for a response."

  Intrigued, Zane lifted the lavender envelope. It was from Lady Anne Barkley and fearing something had happened to Flora he opened it quickly.

  Dear Mr. De'Ville:

  Please excuse this intrusion but it's imperative that I see you. If it's at all possible would you kindly come to my home within the hour? Rest assured no-one is hurt, but I do need to speak with you and it's a matter of some urgency.

  Most sincerely,

  Anne Barkley

  Picking up a pen, underneath her invitation he wrote:

  Dear Lady Barkley:

  I will be there forthwith.

  Kindest regards,

  Zane De'Ville

  Blotting the ink, he folded the paper, slid it back into the envelope and handed it to Bancroft.

  "Thank you, my lord."

  "I'll be leaving shortly. I'm not sure for how long."

  "Very good, my lord."

  As Bancroft left the room, Zane closed his folders and put them in their respective drawers, then left the office and trotted up the stairs to change out of his casual silk jacket. It wasn't raining but it was a dark, grey, cold day, and wanting to walk the short distance he chose a dark green wool vest and slipped it on over his cream shirt.

  "I really must get myself a proper valet," he muttered as he searched out the right jacket, then pausing, a frown crossed his face. "But am I staying for any length of time? Perhaps Anne Barkley has some answers. Perhaps that's why she needs to see me, to give me news about Flora."

  Running a comb through his thick dark hair, he headed out the door towards the stairs, but as he glanced at the foyer below he saw a police officer talking to Bancroft.

  "Is there something the matter?" he asked trotting down the stairs.

  "Sorry to bother you, your lordship. I've got some bad news."

  "I see. You'd better tell me."

  "The accomplice of Jimmy Foster's that we took into custody, I'm afraid we had to let him go. We had nothing on him."

  "I suppose we should have waited until Jimmy handed over what he'd stolen."

  "That would have been the better course of action, sir, but there was no guarantee we'd find anything and retrieving your valuables was the priority."

  "Indeed, well thank you for keeping me informed."

  "The thing is, my lord, he was going on a bit when he was locked up."

  "I'm not sure I understand."

  "Shouting about how he was going to get even with you. I'd best watch myself. Keep a look out."

  "That doesn't sound good. Bancroft, make sure the servants' entrance remains locked at all times, and have everyone keep their eyes and ears open. If they hear anything they're to report to you immediately."

  "Very good, my lord. I'll alert them right now. Perhaps officer, you could come down and describe him to the staff?"

  "Excellent suggestion," Zane remarked, "and you can pass the information on to me when I return."

  "If I may, sir," the officer continued, "he's easy to identify. He has a scar that runs down the side of his left cheek. You can't miss it."

  "That is helpful, thank-you. Now I really must be on my way."

  Bancroft helped him on with his coat, handed him his hat, then quickly moved to the front door and opened it for him. Moving down the front steps Zane glanced up at the sky. It was slate grey, promising rain or even snow, and eager to reach Anne Barkley's house before
either he strode down the street and was soon knocking on her door. To his surprise she answered herself.

  "How good of you to come," she said warmly.

  "I must confess I'm completely intrigued."

  "I'll take those," she offered, taking his coat and hat and hanging them on the hall tree. "Carstairs is running an errand for me."

  "Ah. I wondered why you answered the door, but please tell me, why am I here?"

  "Follow me and you'll have your answer."

  "My goodness, this is becoming even more engaging," he said as he followed her. "May I ask, have you spoken to Flora? How is she feeling?"

  "She's doing well."

  "I wanted to get in touch but I wasn't sure how I could, or even if I should. It's a bit tricky."

  "Yes, it is a bit," she said as they reached the top of the stairs and turned down a hallway.

  "This house is like mine. Much bigger than one would guess and quite a maze."

  "When my husband was alive he would entertain his friends in this part of the house, and we had our bedroom here. It's quiet and private. Here we are," she declared stopping at an impressively carved door. "Please, go in. You won't be bothered, and here's the key should you wish to lock it."

  "I don't understand."

  "You will," she replied pressing the key into his hand.

  His curiosity piqued, he fleetingly wondered if she was about to offer herself to him. He'd had similar scenarios play themselves out, and opening the door he walked into a beautifully furnished bedroom. Glancing around he noticed white sheets neatly piled in a corner. The room had been closed up, but now the fire was burning and a tray offering both tea, coffee, a variety of cakes and fingers sandwiches sat on a large coffee table in front of the fireplace. When he heard the door close behind him he turned around expecting to see her, but she was gone. Puzzled, he started to the door to go after her, but a familiar voice bought him to an abrupt halt.

  "Hello, Zane."

  His heart leapt in his chest, and spinning around he saw Flora walking towards him.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Without a flicker of hesitation Zane marched across the room and pulled Flora into his arms.

  "I hope you're not upset with me," she murmured as she rested her face against his chest. "I had to see you. I simply had to."

  He didn't respond. A man in control at all times, the joy that had surged through his body at the sight of her had taken his breath away. Never had he been so caught off guard or been so happy to see a woman, and clutching her long loose locks he pulled back her head and stared down at her.

  "You constantly surprise me. I should spank you for this, but I am very happy to see you."

  "Why should you spank me?" she twinkled at up him. "I couldn't exactly knock on your front door and I had to speak with you."

  "Is everything all right?"

  "May we sit down?"

  "No, tell me as I hold you."

  His determined authority made her weak, and she was sure had it not been for his strong arm around her waist her legs would have buckled beneath her.

  "I haven't heard from you and I must know, Zane—do you want me? If you don't you must tell me. I can push through the pain of that, but not knowing is driving me mad."

  "My beautiful Flora, once more words fail me. What can I say? It's not a question of not wanting you, of course I do, it's a question of—"

  "Don't say anything else," she said cutting him off. "Nothing else matters."

  "Things are not so black and white."

  "I'm going to ask something of you. Before we talk any further, please can we be together the way we were at your house? Lay down with me, kiss me and caress me, and afterwards if you still feel the same I will leave and never bother you again."

  He studied her for a moment, then releasing her, he stepped back and crossed his arms.

  "You are so sure you wish to be with me? We have spent very little time together. We haven't talked for long hours, or discussed the various obligations of our lives."

  She started to speak, then paused, her brow furrowing as she stared at him.

  "Why do you hesitate?" he asked. "I don't believe I've seen you do that before."

  "I'm not hesitating, I am only searching for the right words. Yes, I am sure I wish to be with you, but only if you wish to be with me."

  "But you really don't know me. You don't know what it is I need from a woman, you only know what your heart is telling you."

  "Isn't that all I need to know?"

  "I am not like other men."

  "Thank goodness for that," she quipped with a cheeky grin, "and did you forget I am not like other women? You said so yourself."

  "Ah, this is true," he said grinning back at her. "Nature has made me a certain way, and I suspect you have been similarly blessed."

  "I know I love how you make me feel, and I'm almost ashamed to say this, but I also loved how you, uh…"

  "Punished you? How I spanked you? Controlled you?" he murmured tracing his fingertip around her lips. "Did you really love that or did you tolerate it, and remember, only the truth?"

  His touch sent a wave of longing through her body, and she closed her eyes, willing him to kiss her.

  "Flora?" he whispered his lips unexpectedly at her ear. "Did you love it, or tolerate it?"

  "I loved it," she breathed, "but I don't know why."

  As if hearing her wish he softly kissed her, then released her and walked across to the fireplace to stare down at the flames.

  She knew she shouldn't speak but her legs were wobbly, so moving to the nearest couch, praying fervently he would tell her what she longed to hear, she sat down and waited. When he finally turned and faced her she took in a quick breath. The verdict was in, or was it? He was walking towards her, and as he sat down and took her hand she had no idea what he was about to say.

  "You asked me to lay down with you, to kiss you and caress you, but that is a mere sip from a full glass of wine. You must drink more. Only then will you know the truth about your needs. You may not understand what I'm telling you, but I am willing to hold the glass to your lips if you're willing to take the drink. Are you, Flora?"

  The butterflies in her stomach burst to life. Something was telling her she was about to walk through a door from which there'd be no turning back. Her heart was thumping, she felt strangely trembly, and taking a deep breath she slowly nodded her head.

  Zane felt a swell of pride. She hadn't proclaimed her undying devotion and promised to do whatever he wanted as many women had. She had searched her soul, then apprehensively agreed.

  "Do you have to leave here at a certain time?" he softly asked.

  "No, I often visit Anne and stay for a while."

  "As things develop, if you feel uncomfortable all you have to do is tell me. I won't be upset but I do need to know. Understand?"

  "I understand."

  "This is not some kind of test or initiation, nor is it a guarantee of anything. I don't want any misunderstanding."

  "So it will be like before, only more?"

  "Yes, quite a bit more, and you may not enjoy it."

  "I feel very strongly that I want this, whatever, this, is, but what I said holds true. If you are still in two minds about being with me when it's time for me to go home I won't bother you again."

  "Flora, I fear you are oversimplifying the situation."

  "And I fear you are making it more complicated than it needs to be," she said defiantly.

  "The time for conversation is over," he said abruptly. "I'm going to lock the door and turn down the bed. Please take off your shoes and wait in front of the fire. I'll come back to you and take off your dress and petticoats."

  "You will?"

  "I will, and while we're in this room you'll refer to me as Master Zane."

  "Yes, Master Zane," she murmured feeling a quiver ripple through her body.

  "Now go to the fireplace."

  Rising to her feet, feeling oddly self-conscious, she re
moved her shoes and walked across the room. She could feel his eyes following her, and as she gazed down at the flames she was aware of him behind her folding down the covers on the bed. Though watching the hot crackling fire was soothing, there was a nervousness flooding her body, but it wasn't a bad nervousness, it was an excited nervousness, as though she was about to embark on a thrilling journey.

  She heard the door being locked, and raising her eyes she watched him stride towards her. He'd removed his jacket and vest, his shirt was unbuttoned, and his boots were off. He looked utterly compelling, and as he wordlessly walked behind her and began unfastening the hooks and eyes that ran down the back of her dress, she thought she would faint.

  "Master Zane, I am feeling weak."

  "A good sign," he whispered as the last hook was released. "Your dress is ready to fall off your body. Just let it land at your feet and step over it."

  It dropped away, and as he moved in front of her she placed her hands on his shoulders, balancing on him as she lifted her feet over the fabric laying around her ankles.

  "So many petticoats," he murmured, and was about to remove them when her fingers dug into his shoulders.

  "Flora? Are you all right?"

  "I'm perfect," she whispered.

  "You seem nervous."

  "I am a bit, but it's a good nervous."

  Taking her face between his hands he softly kissed her, sending her reassurance and comfort as he lingered his mouth over hers, then pulled back and gazed at her.

  "Did that help?"

  "Very much, thank you, Master Zane."

  He slowly began disposing of her petticoats, but as the last fell away he stared down in shocked but delighted surprise.

  "Mon dieu! No knickers? Do you often walk around with no knickers?"

  "It's my first time," she managed, feeling her face turn crimson. "The idea came to me this morning when I was hoping to see you. I did it for you, Master Zane."

  "I am speechless," he muttered taking her hands from his shoulders and stepping back. "Truly speechless, and I must thank you. It is a scandalously wonderful surprise."