London Lace, Series Complete Set

by Catou Martine

  “Oh, Todd. Yes.” Her voice was high-pitched and squeaky.

  Todd whispered back. “You’re beautiful like this, Eliza.”

  She opened her eyes briefly, met his as he flicked his gaze between her and the road. But his fingers moving within her created such deep, electric sensations that the muscles around her eyes tightened, forcing them closed, and her legs squeezed together, trying to push his fingers deeper. Without thinking, her hand reached for his. Her palm pressed against the back of his hand, driving it in circular motions and pushing on his knuckles to drive his inserted fingers as deep as they could go. It was like masturbating, but his hand was between hers and her body, and his fingers were inside her making her come. She was very, very close…

  “We’re getting close,” said Todd.

  “Ah…ohh… me too…” gasped Eliza. She rocked into his hand until her river rushed over cliff in a spectacular waterfall of sensation. Airborne splashes fell and crashed onto rocks and then were carried into the depths of her still-flowing river, the one she would return to again and again. She sighed deeply, opened and relaxed her body completely against the seat of the car. The roadster had slowed down and she heard its wheels crunching over gravel and felt the rocking of an uneven driveway. Todd withdrew his fingers from Eliza’s pussy-embrace.

  “Ah, the scent of heaven,” he whispered somewhat triumphantly.

  Eliza opened her eyes just as they emerged through a copse of hazel trees. Before them lay a verdant sloping lawn carved in two by the gravel driveway. Ahead sat a house that looked like a grander version of Snow White’s cottage.

  “Bloody hell, Todd. You grew up in a storybook!”

  “As you know my story didn’t have a happy ending.” He frowned and shut off the motor. Turning to Eliza he added, “Until now, that is.” He reached for her hand, held it in both of his, and kissed it. “You know, you are the only woman I’ve ever allowed to come here.”

  Eliza gulped at the weight of that statement and tried to make a joke. “And let come on the way too?”

  He smiled and seemed to appreciate her lightness.

  “Let’s go. The key should be in the flower pot.”

  “Which one?”

  At least a dozen pots lined the perimeter of the flagstone patio off to one side. A set of wrought iron summer furniture was stacked under the eaves.

  Eliza got out of the roadster, stretched, and followed Todd, who’d only checked two pots before finding the key.

  “It might be a bit musty. It only gets aired and cleaned once a month.”

  Eliza shrugged. That was more than some homes in her neighborhood in Sheffield got with people living in the house.

  “Who takes care of it?” she asked.

  “The wife of a cousin of Marjorie’s.”

  “She has other family here?”

  “Lots apparently.”

  The curved wooden door, painted a bold red, gave way. The sun filtering through the hazels behind them extended its rays right through the front door and the little leaded windows on either side of it. The terra cotta tiles of the foyer glowed bright orange in the sunshine.

  “Are you sure I’m not going to find a bunch of dwarves lurking in here?” Eliza peeked tentatively through the open doorway.

  Todd laughed again—Eliza did love his laugh.

  “Don’t worry. My mother evicted them long ago. Horny little buggers.”

  Eliza was about to laugh but just then she lost her balance. Todd had literally swept her off her feet to carry her across the threshold.

  “What are you doing?” she said, half struggling and laughing now.

  “Saving you from loitering.”

  “There you go, saving me again.” He put her down and she brushed at her skirt, feigning irritation.

  “You know what I mean.” He watched her. “Do you like it?”

  She sighed. “I suppose I need saving now and again but—

  “—That’s not what I meant,” said Todd with a smirk. “The house. Do you like the house?”

  “Oh.” Eliza looked around, assessing. They were standing between a quaint old-fashioned kitchen with an adorable breakfast nook and parlor with sheet-covered library chairs and a great river rock fireplace. “How could I not? I feel like Snow White.”

  He stepped forward to embrace her. “Are you saying you’d want seven horny dwarves hanging around? Because I might be able to arrange that.”

  “Ewwww…” she wriggled in his arms, feeling the stiffness beneath his trousers. “One horny Todd is more than enough for me.”

  “Is it?” He held her still and looked deep into her eyes.

  She smiled. “Definitely no horny dwarves thank you very much.”

  Todd looked so serious all of a sudden.

  “I have something for you.”

  One arm let go and he reached toward his jacket pocket.

  He pulled out a box. Creating some space between them, he held it up to her.

  “It’s something I want you to have.”

  “Todd, you didn’t have to…”

  “I wanted to.”

  The box was labeled Monarch Jewels. That was Tori’s family’s company. Eliza didn’t want Todd to give her lavish gifts. It made her feel strange. She didn’t want his money, or the symbols of it. She was fine on her own. Besides, she hardly wore jewelry.

  When she looked up at him, she saw that he had his knuckle in his mouth and a worried look in his eyes.

  “Really, Todd, you shouldn’t have splurged.”

  She tried to suppress her frown. She should be delighted, of course. What was wrong with her?

  Todd’s brow furrowed as she hesitated. “Eliza. It’s a gift. Open it.”

  “But I thought we weren’t going to—”

  “—If it makes you feel any better, I borrowed the box from Tori’s shop. I didn’t splurge. But now I know how excited a jewelry box makes you. I’ll remember that for the future.”

  Uh oh. She had pissed him off. She didn’t want to have a row about something as benign as him wanting to shower her with jewels, not that that’s what he was doing.

  “It’s not that I don’t think it’s wonderful. I really do. I just… I’m not used to gifts I guess.”

  “Clearly not, or else you’d be familiar with the part about opening them. If you don’t hurry up I’m going to do it for you.”

  “Sorry, sorry. I wish we could dial back a bit and I could start over. I feel like such an ungrateful clod. You were being so sweet and then I messed it all up…”

  Todd rolled his eyes and then made a funny electric buzzing sound with his lips. “Time’s up!”

  His hand reached out and he grabbed the box from Eliza.

  Eliza’s eyes widened. He was taking it back?

  Todd grinned. “Now if you want it. You’ll have to catch me.”

  He raced from the kitchen back toward the door, grabbed the banister, and started bolting up the stairs.

  “Todd!!”

  Eliza let out an exasperated sigh, and then she started laughing. What an idiot she was. But at least Todd was willing make fun of her idiocy. She raced for the stairs. She didn’t know this house at all and she didn’t want to lose him. She really, really wanted to find out what was in that little box!

  She took the stairs two at a time, barely noticing the stained glass window above a bench seat at the landing. Finding herself at the top step, she had to choose between a door on the right and going down the hall on the left. She saw movement at the end of the shadowy hall and then a stream of light as a door opened and closed.

  “Todd?” She headed toward that door, passing two others on the way. She heard the thump of running steps on the other side of the wall. The door had been left ajar and Eliza went through, following Todd’s trail. She found herself in a playroom. She paused. Everything was covered in white sheets, but she could make out the shapes of a rocking horse, a toy trunk, a small table and chairs, and a cot.

  A mobile made of farm anima
ls, including several horses, hung over the cot. The room seemed eerie, all empty and draped in sheets. Not scary but rather haunting. Eliza felt a deep sadness burrowing upwards from a deep forgotten place inside of her. Todd had been a child here. These were his toys. A whole room full of them. Unlike Eliza, he’d had privileged and loving childhood. Until it was cut short much too soon.

  Diagonally across the room was another open door. Eliza padded softly toward it feeling more thoughtful than playful now.

  This door led to a bedroom, a decidedly feminine bedroom, though it, too, was draped with sheets. There were two doors in this room, both closed. Eliza opened one and found a closet full of clothes. She stepped in, running her fingers along the rows of dresses and skirts. She stopped at a clear plastic sleeve. Inside was the most beautiful lace Eliza had ever seen. Was it a wedding dress? She pushed the other dresses aside so she could get a better look at this one. Yes, it definitely matched the dress in the photo on Todd’s mantel at Evergreen. His mother’s wedding dress, and everything else of hers, preserved for all these years…

  The designer in her wanted to feel the lace, assess the quality of the tatting, run her fingers over the elaborate handiwork. Lace just wasn’t made like this anymore. But Eliza was already intruding just being in the closet-cum-memorial. She heard a door open. Stepping outside the closet, she noticed the other door was ajar now. Had Todd opened it? She looked around. Nobody else was in the bedroom. Eliza closed the closet and went through the other door. She ended up in the hall. The door across the way was also ajar. She heard shuffling coming from this room.

  “Todd?” She pushed the door open. This room was livable—no drapes over the furniture. There was a desk and chair, a small fireplace, and a queen-sized bed decked out with beige and brown linens. A decidedly masculine room. Had this once belonged to Todd’s father?

  She heard a noise within the room. “Finally,” said Todd, emerging from behind the bathroom door. “Can’t say you’re much of a Sherlock.” He shook his head in mock disappointment.

  “You led me down an interesting path. You can’t think I wasn’t affected by it.”

  “Do you think the house is creepy? All locked up with no one living in it?”

  “It looks like someone lives here.” The room was tidy, dust-free, and the adjoining bathroom behind Todd looked sparklingly clean. Eliza even thought she smelled traces of cleanser.

  “This is where I sleep when I come up here. Which isn’t often. In fact, I hadn’t been for over a year until I had to drive up and pick up my father’s top hat for that race in Exeter, the one that turned up in that photo.”

  He strode to one corner of the room and opened a door set in an alcove. His father’s closet. Much smaller and almost empty except for some formal jackets and several hat boxes. Gesturing to them he said, “One of the reasons I haven’t needed to visit a milliner for quite some time.”

  Eliza took a few steps toward him. She held her hands behind her back, unsure of what to say next. This house, full of Todd’s past, was affecting her strangely, and it wasn’t just the quaintness of his imagined childhood compared to the poverty-stricken memories of her own. It wasn’t that at all. It was as if she were walking through an early history of him, and though he stood before her—here in the present—his reality seemed very ghost-like all of a sudden. It was as if she had tuned into the past, the early happy years; she even imagined a little boy’s laughter in the distance, and small footsteps running up and down the hall.

  “Is anything wrong?” he said, breaking through the trance that had stolen upon her.

  “Is it hard for you to be here?” she asked.

  He sighed and closed the closet door. “It’s easier with you.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair and sat at the desk chair, turning it outward to face her.

  “My father kept this place like a mausoleum, one he rarely visited. Or so I thought until after he died. Marjorie’s cousin, Edith, the one who checks up on this place, said he made regular pilgrimages.” Todd shrugged. “But he never brought me.”

  Eliza walked over to the desk and sat on its edge. “I don’t think this house is creepy, Todd. It’s lovely, truly. It’s just stuck in the past. It needs bringing up to the present. It’s your house now. You could do that if you want.”

  “Speaking of the present,” said Todd reaching into his pocket. “Are you ready now?”

  Eliza nodded. He held out the box.

  “Thank you,” said Eliza, meeting his deep blue eyes.

  “But you haven’t opened it yet.”

  “I don’t need to open it before thanking you. They say it’s the thought that counts, and I used to think that was just a throwaway phrase, until now.”

  She pulled her knees up and rested her toes on the edge of Todd’s chair. He stroked her ankles while he watched her.

  Eliza had meant what she said. She didn’t need trinkets to trigger the gratitude she felt for having Todd in her life.

  She lifted the lid of the box. Inside, on a pad of soft black velvet, sat a square-cut emerald about as big as Eliza’s thumbnail. Its green glow was mesmerizing.

  Eliza’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh, Todd. It’s… it’s stunning.”

  “It belonged to my mother,” he said quietly.

  She looked up from the gorgeous emerald and met his soft gaze. His eyes seemed more green than blue in this moment, perhaps from looking at the exquisite jewel.

  He said, “I’ve wanted you to have it ever since I saw you in that green velvet dress. It’s your color, you know. Brings out the red tones in your dark hair and makes your brown eyes shine.” He reached for her hair and tucked a strand behind her ear, an intimate familiar gesture.

  She looked back at the emerald, an odd feeling rising up from her gut. Something to do with the past, and being trapped by it.

  “But it’s your mother’s…”

  “I know. I want you to have it.”

  The feeling inside her grew cold, and afraid.

  “Todd, I can’t accept this.”

  His hand froze. “Why not?”

  “What does it mean if I do? What are you proposing? I mean, I know you’re not proposing. Bloody hell, why did I use that word?”

  She broke into a light sweat and felt on the verge of laughing or crying. Or running. “It’s too special. It means too much.” She tried to hand the box back but he had dropped his hands to his sides and kept them there. He frowned, at first from hurt and then the frown deepened in anger.

  “You can’t keep doing this, Eliza. You can’t keep pushing me away every time I try to get close.”

  “Is giving me your dead mother’s necklace your way of getting close?”

  He clenched his jaw. “If you’re afraid I’m confusing you with my mother you are more screwed up than I thought.”

  “Me screwed up? You’re the one engaged to a lesbian!”

  “Is that what this is all about? You can’t handle the temporary charade?”

  “According to you my whole life is a charade, so I don’t think I have a problem handling it. But I’m fed up with the secrecy, Todd. It think it’s easier for you to keep things hidden and live in the moment, to revel in the unexpected and take one day at a time, than to stand up for what you want and really go after it.”

  His fists were clenched now, and Eliza could see him simmering behind the effort of his outwardly calm expression, but she didn’t stop.

  “What if I’m doing that now?”

  She shook her head. “What if you’re still hiding behind your losses as an excuse for not being able to let go? Why did you bring me here and expose me to your sad history and offer me a relic from your past?… I’ll never be your mother, Todd.”

  He exhaled sharply through his clenched teeth.

  “You know what I think?” he said, no longer holding his anger in. “I think it’s easier for you to expose and examine all my flaws instead of dealing with your own. You will do anything—think anything, say any
thing—to deflect what’s really happening between us. When push comes to shove you duck and run. You say you’re a fighter, that you’ve fought your way to the top and you need to keep on fighting. But what are you fighting now? Who are you fighting? Yourself, Eliza. You may be a fighter. But you’re the weakest sort of fighter there is. Because you fight for all the wrong reasons, you fight against things rather than for them, and because of that you’re destined to lose.”

  His glare was searing and intense. With an air of disgust, he said, “I was never trying to turn you into my mother. I was hoping you would bloom into yourself, but the bud inside you doesn’t want to flower. It seems it would rather wither up to a dry husk.”

  He practically spat these last words, and Eliza was so beyond shock, beyond a racing heart and flaring cheeks and shaking fingers. She was nearly hyperventilating with anger. Without knowing what she was doing, she wound up to slap him as hard as she could across the face. He grabbed her wrist before she made contact. He held her so firm she thought her wrist might break. Her arm suddenly went limp and he let go of her. The look in his eyes was beyond any kind of physical pain. He was hurt, he was angry, but more than that, she could see that he was done with her. Her knees felt weak, but in a terrible way. Her heart felt shattered.

  Quietly, unfeelingly, he said, “I’ll call you a cab.” Then he turned on his heel and left.

  Eliza sank to the floor. She still had the jewelry box in her hand. She’d wanted to give it back, but now she had no strength to move, and he was gone. His footsteps receded. A few moments later she heard the roadster rev up. He was leaving her here. He was leaving her…

  Her cheeks were wet, her body was trembling, and she felt sick to her stomach. She tried to crawl to the bathroom, but her limbs wouldn’t do what her mind was telling them.

  “Why?” she asked herself. “What have I done? What a fool I am. I killed it. Snuffed out my own happiness. I ruined the gift of love.”