‘Jasper?’ Riane uttered aside to Marcus.
‘Got it in one,’ he confirmed, making greater haste down the stairs.
‘Ah … here he is, girls.’ Jasper spotted his brother and so headed his way. ‘But, hold everything, what have we here?’ Jasper sidestepped his brother and moved to meet Riane at the base of the stairway. ‘This is most unlike you, Marcus.’ Jasper shot a mischievously delighted look back at his brother, before kissing Riane’s hand. ‘Jasper MacCloud at your service, lovely lady.’ He took off his hat, which sported a huge feather, and then bowed low before her.
This one had the look of the devil in his lovely, bright baby blues, and whereas Marcus was tall and ruggedly handsome, Jasper was shorter, well-built and downright gorgeous to look at.
‘I’m charmed,’ Riane admitted, unable to contain her amused chuckles.
‘So what’s with the fancy dress?’ Marcus interrupted his brother’s routine.
‘Oh,’ Jasper gazed down at himself, ‘my other suit was at the cleaners.’ He chuckled at his own joke, which Riane found amusing, but Marcus rolled his eyes in mock despair. ‘No seriously … the girls thought we’d have a “come as your favourite ancestor party” this evening, and you’re both cordially invited.’ His cheeky smile drifted toward Riane.
‘That’s very kind.’ Riane didn’t know whether to take him seriously or not. ‘But I’m afraid my ballgown is at the cleaners.’
Jasper burst into laughter, finding her comeback amusing. ‘Not to worry. My girls will fix you up, won’t you, ladies?’ He waved them all over to join the conversation. ‘This is Arabella, Rochelle, Marion and Velvet.’ He finished the introductions with a good serve of enthusiasm.
‘I believe we can accommodate her, my lord.’ Velvet smiled, resting her head on Jasper’s shoulder, whilst the other three girls hung off him as well.
‘So, what do you say?’ Jasper put it to Riane, who in turn looked to Marcus, standing back out of the way of all the fabric.
‘Could be fun,’ he pondered aloud, noticing that his house guest clearly wanted to become part of Jasper’s fairytale charade.
A huge smile swept Riane’s face. ‘We accept,’ she was delighted to announce, and Jasper and his harem all cheered the resolution.
Marion, the strawberry-blonde with hair down to her knees, who was the very image of a Celtic princess, toyed with Riane’s hair. Meanwhile, Rochelle, the pouting brunette, did marvellous things with make-up. Velvet entered the room bearing a huge bundle, consisting of a dress and myriad accessories, slung over her shoulder.
‘Are we ready for me?’ Velvet queried, unloading her spoils on to the bed.
Velvet was Negro, full of grace, with long, wild, curly hair, and had a powerful presence. Her lovely, large eyes were slightly slanted and fiery brown in colour. Tall and slender, she was taller than the other girls, who all stood above six feet tall and thus towered over Jasper. The younger lord was only about five and a half feet in height, which also made him much shorter than Marcus.
‘Juuuust about,’ Rochelle replied, adding the last few touches to Riane’s orange-frosted lips.
‘Thanks for doing this,’ Riane said, as soon as she was freed from Rochelle’s attentions.
‘Think nothing of it,’ Marion insisted. ‘It’s fun to have someone new to toy with.’
‘Beats the hell out of playing with ourselves,’ Velvet gibed, and the other two girls agreed.
‘You’re all so beautiful, you don’t need any work,’ Riane said. ‘Me, I need work.’
‘Not much,’ Rochelle advised, directing Riane’s eyes to her reflection in the mirror.
The face of an angel stared her back and the transformation was so miraculous that she gasped.
All the frosty autumn colours that Rochelle had used put a soft focus on Riane’s features; it was a look she would never have dreamed would suit her so well. Her deep auburn hair had been piled into a bun laced with pearls, and perfect ringlets fell about her face and shoulders.
‘Oh yeah, you’re as ugly as sin,’ Velvet scoffed, waving their stunned subject forth. ‘Come on, Cinderella, time to get dressed for the ball.’
Riane was left completely naked as her wrap was removed from her body, but in this particular group of women it didn’t make her feel even slightly uncomfortable. A black corset was strapped on first and then black stockings attached. Velvet carefully laid out the bulky petticoat so that Riane could step into it, whereupon all three women helped her hoist up the massive garment and strap it on. The women assisted the evening gown, of midnight blue velvet, to slip over the hairdo, and then helped Riane slide her arms into the sleeves, tight to the arm and ending in a point at her middle finger.
‘Whoa, it’s heavy,’ Riane commented, as she took on the great weight.
‘It won’t feel so bad once we get you done up the front,’ Velvet assured her, and she began lacing the gown together with professional speed and confidence.
‘Um …’ Riane hesitated to mention the oversight. ‘No undies?’
All three girls smiled mischievously and shook their heads in the negative.
‘Perhaps we misconstrued the way you were eyeing off Master Marcus?’ Velvet queried suggestively.
‘No,’ Riane admitted, ‘you read me right, all right.’
The women were inspired to learn this, and snuggled in closer to Riane for some intimate girl’s talk.
‘Then definitely remain as you are,’ Rochelle, who had an amazing French accent and looked like a young Sophia Loren, advised, ‘and when he is holding you in his arms tonight, take hold of his hand and guide it underneath your skirts, up between your bare —’
‘Don’t lead her astray,’ Arabella interjected from her stationary position in a chair by the window, where she had seated herself when they’d come upstairs and been forgotten by the others. ‘Marcus doesn’t like the direct approach.’
‘No, my darling, he just didn’t like your direct approach,’ Velvet shot back, before returning her attention to Riane. ‘Pay her no mind. She’s just moody because you’ve done her out of a seduction.’
‘She’s always had a thing for Marcus,’ Marion added.
‘That isn’t true.’ Arabella looked back to the darkening landscape outside. ‘I was just trying to be helpful.’
Arabella was the lush, blonde, Hollywood starlet type — luscious red lips, huge breasts and a very shapely figure.
If her advances hadn’t inspired Marcus, Riane didn’t feel so confident about launching into a seduction. ‘Maybe Arabella is right.’
‘Ha!’ Velvet scoffed. ‘She never wears any knickers either.’
‘None of us do,’ Marion added, and all three women raised their skirts and then giggled at Riane’s shocked expression.
‘With Jasper, one always needs to be prepared,’ Rochelle enlightened.
‘Are you all with Jasper?’ Riane had to know, for the question had been plaguing her since they’d all arrived together.
‘Mm-hmm,’ Rochelle confirmed.
‘He must be some lover to keep you all happy.’ Riane smiled, although she couldn’t imagine sharing her man with three other women.
‘Unbelievable!’ Velvet stressed her expert opinion and Rochelle and Marion gave him sterling recommendations also.
‘Wouldn’t you agree, Arabella?’ Marion attempted to include her in the conversation.
‘Absolutely,’ she said flatly, ‘unbelievable.’ She turned toward the women and walked past them on her way to the door. ‘Isn’t it cold in here?’ She looked directly at Riane as she passed.
Marion, Rochelle and Velvet all disagreed.
‘You always find something to complain about,’ Marion sneered, obviously pleased to see that Arabella was leaving.
‘I feel the cold, you see,’ Arabella explained, her eyes still on the newcomer. ‘Do you, Riane?’
Her stare was as cold as iced water and the chill that had been dormant for most of the day began to make itself felt once
more in Riane’s bones.
‘Pay her no mind,’ Velvet encouraged Riane, upon Arabella’s departure.
‘She’s just a jealous old cow who has to spoil everything,’ Marion said in a huff. ‘But we won’t let her,’ she resolved with a smile.
‘Let’s stoke up the fire,’ suggested Rochelle, leading Riane toward it to warm away the bleak mood Arabella had left in the room.
About an hour before dinner the girls left to doll themselves up for the evening and Riane found herself alone.
She was starting to miss Marcus’s company, and although she suspected that he would probably be dressing for dinner, she headed downstairs to see if she could find him.
Voices were emanating from the main drawing room and as she approached to make an entrance, her curiosity made her hesitate, for only Jasper and Marcus were within. Boys’ talk. The thought tempted her to lean closer to the door.
‘I didn’t do it on purpose, Jasper.’ Marcus was sounding quite insistent. ‘And don’t think this means I’m starting a harem. I’m not like you.’
‘If you don’t hurry up and claim her, you’re going to lose her,’ Jasper insisted, sounding rather amused at his brother’s disturbed mood. ‘I’m sure there’s somebody somewhere looking for her … babes like that always have boyfriends.’
‘I’m not going to entrap her,’ Marcus retorted.
‘What? You’re going to let slip the best stab you’ve had at happiness for eons!’ Jasper scoffed, thinking it pathetic. ‘I won’t let it happen. I’ll take care of it myself,’ he threatened.
‘Like hell you will.’ Marcus’ tone became angry, and Riane had to smile. ‘I like this woman, Jasper, and so help me God I shall never forgive you if you screw this up for me. I’ll do this my way.’
‘That’s what I like to see,’ Jasper responded, lightheartedly, ‘a bit of passion!’
‘Well, you’ll see more than a little passion if you bloody well interfere.’ Marcus’s anger dissipated.
‘All right, you’re on your own,’ Jasper conceded, ‘but you had better make good. I worry about you all alone in this huge house … it can’t be beneficial.’
As Riane quietly backed away from the door, she was startled to find herself colliding with an obstacle. Turning abruptly, she confronted Arabella.
‘Like a frozen little moth to the flame, aren’t you?’ Arabella smiled winningly as she took hold of both Riane’s hands and backed up to lead her away from the drawing room.
Goosebumps spread like wildfire over Riane’s skin and she began to shiver.
‘A hot-blooded male will ward away the cold,’ Arabella declared. ‘That’s what we all find most attractive about Jasper. He’s hot to trot.’ She winked at Riane and leaned in close to whisper: ‘I know you know what I mean … I should have listened to the white waif.’ The gorgeous blonde let go of Riane’s hands, and smiled as she departed, the long train of her white silken gown trailing along behind her.
Was she speaking about the ghost from my dream? Riane wondered. How did she know about her?
‘Riane?’
Startled again, Riane looked back to the drawing room door to find Marcus, bewitched.
‘I have died and found heaven.’ He placed a hand over his heart to reinforce the sincerity of his compliment.
Riane was thankful that the make-up hid how severely she blushed. ‘That has been my impression ever since I entered your realm, Marcus.’ She was drawn toward his admiring gaze, the fire in his eyes. ‘It’s a spell, isn’t it?’
‘What else but an enchantment could be so potent …’ he stopped just short of tasting her lips of peach ‘… so all-consuming.’
‘Great Scott!’ Jasper startled the life out of both of them. ‘A goddess in our midst.’ He took hold of Riane’s hand and led her into the drawing room. ‘Go and get dressed, Marcus. I shall keep your divine guest entertained until you get back.’
Marcus was clearly horrified by the idea. ‘Like hell —’
‘Are you going to take her with you?’ Jasper asked, raising his brow suggestively a couple of times. ‘There’s plenty of time until dinner.’
‘Jasper, please,’ Marcus appealed.
‘I’ll be fine here with Jasper,’ Riane assured him, although Marcus obviously thought her a slave to Jasper’s charm. ‘He seems the perfect gentleman to me.’
Jasper grinned broadly at his brother and gave one victorious nod.
‘And if he isn’t,’ Riane added, ‘I know a few fairly violent self-defence moves that ought to stabilise the situation without too much fuss.’
‘A modern woman … how … wonderful!’ The good humour slipped from Jasper’s face and Marcus gave a chuckle.
‘Try not to beat his pretty face too grievously,’ he bantered. ‘I’ll ask Marge to get the first-aid kit ready.’ Marcus’ amusement doubled as he left to change.
‘He’s special, isn’t he?’ Jasper’s comment had a cynical tone, as he moved to the bar trolley where a few bottles of champagne were on ice.
‘Yes, he is,’ Riane agreed, sincerely.
‘It makes me very happy to hear you say so,’ Jasper assured her, popping the cork on a bottle and pouring them both a glass. He then eyed her over and groaned as if tortured by her appearance. ‘My girls certainly enhanced your beauty to perfection. Marcus is to be envied indeed.’
Riane squirmed, aroused by his engaging compliments and the way his eyes undressed her, as indeed Marcus’s had — this seemed to be the only trait they had in common. And being super-aware of not wearing knickers wasn’t helping matters any. ‘Surely four women is enough, Jasper.’ She found herself a lounge chair to sit on, although her dress flowed over its arms.
Jasper smiled as he delivered her drink to her, almost as if he knew what was whirling around in her head. ‘None of them are complaining … so far as I’m aware.’ He held up his glass to toast Riane. ‘Here’s to your eternal good health and happiness.’
For some strange reason, she found the toast disturbing, or perhaps it was just the way he’d said it — as if he knew something she didn’t.
‘You don’t like my toast.’ Jasper seemed hurt and eager to save face. ‘Then how about, to a mighty excellent evening.’ He squatted playfully beside her chair. ‘With lots of drinking, feasting, merriment and love.’ He clinked his glass against hers, holding her gaze with his own bold, adoring stare.
As Riane swallowed the chilled champagne, she was burning from the tip of her crown to her pelvis — Jasper’s charisma was like being exposed to a raging furnace.
A hot-blooded male will ward away the cold. Arabella’s words came back to haunt her. He’s hot to trot.
Riane was tempted to retreat from the room to escape Jasper’s attention, but was saved the trouble when his girls arrived.
‘Ah … ladies.’ He rose and wandered off to kiss them all in turn.
‘Marcus is on his way down,’ Marion informed Jasper, when she’d been given her share of him. The Celtic maiden then headed toward Riane to report, ‘He’s wearing a kilt.’ She winked, excited for Riane, before whispering, ‘That seems to open up all kinds of possibilities to you.’
Riane had always thought herself rather risqué but these girls were shameless, and she had to admit that the expectation they were weaving around this seduction was extremely compelling.
Not in all her born days did Riane think that she would find a man wearing a kilt sexy, but Marcus’s aristocratic Scottish garb suited him very well.
It was a long tartan kilt that he wore, which fell to below the knee. It was mainly black in colour, with a thin weaving of dark green and white. A black suit jacket crossed and belted at the waist, and a basket-hilted broadsword in its scabbard hung at his side. All that could be seen of the white, pirate-style shirt beneath his coat was the stiff white collar that framed the lord’s handsome face. A tie prevented the garment from falling open.
Riane wasn’t too keen on the beret and was pleased when Marcus discarded it — havin
g at least entered the party in full costume.
‘Are you a pirate this evening, Marcus?’ Rochelle asked, playfully.
‘Aye,’ he replied, allowing his gaze to wander until it fell upon Riane. ‘I’ve come in search of buried treasure.’
‘Ooooh!’ chorused Jasper and his girls in a suggestive strain.
The expensive champagne was having an effect on Riane, who smiled broadly at Marcus’s proposition. ‘You’ve come to the right place, lord … and well buried treasure it is,’ she joked, looking down upon the huge skirts of her dress.
‘It’s just a matter of knowing where to dig.’ Velvet nudged Marcus, as she served Riane a sly wink.
‘Perhaps a guide is what you need?’ Jasper moved to offer his services, whereby his older, larger brother moved him aside.
‘I’ll find my own way, if it’s all the same to you.’ Marcus held out his arm and escorted his lady fair into dinner.
Jasper, delighted to see his brother so enchanted, followed along behind, more than happy with his own lot.
In the grand dining room, warmed by a large open fire, Riane was treated to an evening of complete extravagance. It was as if she’d stepped out of her life and into a fairytale where wishes came true and everything was beautiful, trouble free and abundant.
Marcus’s attentive gaze had Riane sweating inside the heavy velvet dress. Still, her attire did make her feel decidedly goddess-like and very much the seductress. Her average-sized breasts were enhanced by the snug fit of the bodice, which squeezed her breasts together into an amazing cleavage — Riane felt that it could almost be considered false advertising. Every time she caught Marcus’s eyes straying to her neckline she couldn’t help but feel wonderful and desired. Tonight he would make love to her, of that Riane was certain.
Once the feasting had wound down to a nibble, and all the dessert bowls that had contained a rich chocolate cake with raspberry sauce and cream were pushed aside, a recital began.
Jasper opened the doors through to the music room, where he took a seat at the piano and began to play. Marion took up the harp, Velvet the cello, Rochelle the flute and Arabella began to sing in the voice of a diva. It was neither modern music they were performing, nor traditional, nor classical; it was a haunting, erotic pagan-sounding melody, casting the ambience of an otherworldly spell upon the evening and enhancing the olde-world romance of their masquerade.
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