Carnal Pleasures

by Blaise Kilgallen

  Chapter Six

  The dressing bell was rung, waking Dulcie from her short nap. The balmy eve faded into purple and orange shades of twilight. The lamps in the hallways above and belowstairs were swiftly attended to by a score of servants bringing light and warmth to the elegant town house’s decor. When a maid tapped on Dulcie’s door, Simon growled low in his throat. His hackles rose. He was nervous and protective because someone unfamiliar was outside in the hall. He ceased when Dulcie ordered him to be quiet.

  The young maid gasped and took several rapid steps backward when the large, black dog, pink tongue hanging out, and showing dangerous-looking fangs to the maid’s fearful eyes, appeared when Dulcie opened the door.

  “It’s all right,” Dulcie cautioned, leaning down to hold Simon’s collar as she patted his head with her other hand. “You needn’t be afraid of him. He’s a little nervous because he’s in strange surroundings. He doesn’t know anyone here, and it makes him uncomfortable. I’m afraid we are both a bit undone since we arrived in London, but we’ll be fine tomorrow.” Dulcie smiled sweetly at the rosy-cheeked, timid-looking maid.

  “Oh, Miss … Lady Dulcina … I mean. Lawd, he did give me a fright, he did.” The girl’s blue eyes popped wider as she spoke, and she froze like a statue, unmoving.

  Her anxiety was quite evident to Dulcie. Some people were fearful of large dogs. She knew the girl’s heart was probably beating fast beneath her snowy apron.

  “He won’t bite you,” Dulcie promised, coaxing the girl to come inside while pushing the door wider. “Now,” she asked, “have you come to tell me that my stepmother wishes to see me?”

  “Er, no, milady, I was told to help you get dressed. Supper is in a half hour. I’m to unpack your belongings and see what you wish to wear down below.”

  “Oh. Well then, do come in. What is your name?”

  “Marnie, milady.”

  “Can you give me a hint as to what I should put on?”

  Keeping one eye on Simon, and moving slowly, Marnie approached the bed. Her eyes blinked several times as she noted Dulcie’s single portmanteau lying open, packed with what seemed a few wrinkled, colorless gowns. She hummed in surprise.

  “Is something wrong?” Dulcie asked.

  “No … ’tis only that…”

  “What?” Dulcie continued, still puzzled.

  “Have the rest of your things been left downstairs, milady? If so, I’ll find Robert and have him fetch your trunk up right off.”

  Dulcie frowned. Obviously, the maid was confused. “This is all that I brought with me.”

  Poor Marnie turned the color of beets.

  “I don’t own anything fancy,” Dulcie went on, spreading open her portmanteau and pulling out a dull, green gown with little trimming or any prettiness to excite a man’s interest. She shook out the folds. “This will do if you can press out the wrinkles for me. Perhaps, you’ll be kind enough to help me with my hair, too. I’m afraid it’s in quite a tangle.”

  “Yes, milady.” Marnie cautiously scurried out of the room to do what she was bid, the plain gown draped over her arm.

  * * * *

  The little maid is quite solicitous, Dulcie thought, as the girl carefully brushed and fussed with Dulcie’s hair. When she held up a hand mirror to show what she had accomplished, Dulcie slipped on her spectacles, her eyes gleaming with pleasure behind the lenses. “My goodness! You’re a wonder, Marnie,” she said. “I never looked so fine.”

  However, Dulcie’s expression soon dimmed. “Unfortunately, you must take my hair down again. What I’m wearing doesn’t match the coiffure’s elegance.” She smiled ruefully. “I am simply a country mouse come to goggle at London’s world and what goes on here in the Metropolis,” Dulcie explained. She began pulling hairpins out of her hair. “You must brush it out again, Marnie. I’ll simply tie it back with a ribbon.”

  “Oh, milady, what a shame!”

  “You can dress my hair after I purchase a few fancier gowns.” She glanced back at the girl, who wore a distressed look on her rotund, freckled countenance.

  “Oh, I do hope so, milady. It did look very nice on you when I did it up.”

  “We’ll see.”

  After the maid did as she was asked, and tied a ribbon around Dulcie’s tresses, Dulcie rose from her seat in front of the vanity and smiled. “I expect it is time to go down to supper.”

  Simon yipped when the dinner gong rang a second time. He trotted toward the door of Dulcie’s room and sat staring up at it. She realized the dog was anxious for another outing.

  “I will finish your unpacking while you are at supper, milady, but I hope you’re not leaving, er, the dog here with me. I-I’m still a bit nervous with the animal. You see, the countess never allowed a dog in the house, and…”

  “Not to worry, Marnie. Simon will go down to supper with me.”

  “Oh, my!” The girl’s eyebrows jumped a notch higher on her forehead.

  Dulcie attached the dog’s leash and smiled at her maid. “Direct me to the dining room, will you? I’m afraid I don’t know my way around the house.”

  “’Tis to the left and toward the rear of the foyer, milady, but…”

  “I’m sure the countess will accept Simon’s presence.” As she left the room, Dulcie held tight to her determination that the dog was to accompany her wherever she went.

  The young maid watched, a worried frown creasing her forehead. She peeked from the doorway as Dulcie started down the hallway, leading the dog, and descending one of the curving staircases to the foyer.

  Dulcie hesitated on a bottom step, wondering if she should take Simon outside before going into supper. While she was making up her mind, a deep, male voice captured her attention, and she swiveled her head toward him. “Lady Dulcina?” A tall footman approached her. “Er, milady, may I be of service?”

  “Oh, yes,” she said, gifting him with a smile. “I suppose you can.”

  Simon sniffed curiously at the liveried servant’s shiny, buckled shoes and white stockings, then sat on his haunches next to Dulcie.

  “I’ve been summoned to supper. Can you tell me what door leads…”

  “Follow me, milady,” he replied quickly. ”Shall I hold on to your animal for you?”

  “No, Simon is coming with me.” Dulcie ignored his surprised expression when he raised his eyebrows at her.

  Rearranging his countenance, Joshua, the footman, said, “As you wish, milady. The countess awaits you in the blue parlor.” He threw open the double doors with an air of hesitancy. “Lady Dulcina … er, and her dog,” he announced and quickly shut the doors behind Dulcie and Simon.

  Dulcie started to approach the countess with Simon at her side to greet her stepmother.

  “Dog!” The countess screeched from where she sat and rose immediately to face the doorway. “Was it you who brought that dirty animal into this house?” Agina exclaimed, seeing the pair drawing near. “Dulcina, get rid of that animal this minute! I don’t allow dogs in my house.”

  At the sound of her strident tone, Simon rumbled deep in his throat.

  Dulcie stooped and stroked his head. “Shush. Good boy.” When she straightened, Dulcie held herself ramrod straight as if she had a metal poker up her spine. “Mother, Simon comes with me wherever I go. If you forbid his presence here, then he and I shall simply turn about and return to Bonne Vista.”

  “How dare you answer me that way? Have you no manners? Your impertinence is particularly unwise of you, although I seem to recall you’ve always been flippant, unruly, and rag-mannered. You should have learned by now how to behave. I’m not surprised, though,” Agina grumbled. “You have run wild without any real discipline for far too many years.” The countess glowered at her. “Well, we shall see about that. I won’t stand for your tart remarks, Dulcina. I expect an apology from you this very minute.”

  Dulcie hadn’t expected such a furious scold from her stepmother upon entering the parlor.

  “Keep that filthy animal way from
me!” Agina exclaimed louder, hurriedly looking around. “Griff, catch hold of that beast. Don’t let him anywhere near me.”

  Dulcie could scarcely suppress the laughter bubbling up into her throat. Simon was the most gentle, trainable dog she knew. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. And he had always been clean. But her stepmother was afraid of him! She wondered if together, she and her dog could manage to get them sent back to Surrey where they belonged, quicker than she had hoped. Holding out a hand for the dog’s leash, the fair-haired stranger strolled toward Dulcie.

  Simon wagged his tail when the man came close, sniffing up and down his booted legs from toes to knees. Seeming satisfied, Simon lay down flat, his nose stuck between his big paws.

  Dulcie glanced up to meet the man’s eyes. She recognized amusement shimmering in his gray-eyed visage. “I once owned a dog like this one,” he said very low, his melodious baritone tinged with good humor. “Perhaps, that is why he is friendly toward me. I did hear him growling a little earlier, however, and wondered where the sound came from. You must occupy the room next to mine.”

  “Simon only growls if he is in strange surroundings. Or, if he is in the company of people he isn’t sure of or doesn’t like,” she whispered, throwing a quick glance toward the countess.

  With his back toward Agina, Griff slowly winked at Dulcie and said, almost under his breath, “Ahh. So perhaps he’s not terribly fond of your stepmother. But I believe you had better apologize to her just the same.”

  Dulcie handed Simon’s leash to the stranger and went to stand in front of her frazzled, scowling stepmother. “Yes, it was quite rude of me, Mother, to speak to you that way. I forgot my manners.”

  But you were just as rude, Dulcie thought. You weren’t here to welcome me even though I did my best to get here as rapidly as you demanded.

  “I am sorry, but I will not send Simon away. I’ve raised him up from a pup. He is very well behaved.” Dulcie’s lips twitched into a smile unconsciously. “He is probably better behaved than I am. I am totally to blame, so forgive me. I assure you Simon will be no trouble to anyone while he is here. I will keep him out of your sight as much as possible.”

  The countess stared at her stepdaughter and read the determination in the girl’s eyes. “What of my darling cats? I know he will terrorize them!”

  “I don’t believe so, Mother. Simon is quite fond of cats and they get along fine. We have several at home at Bonne Vista, and he has never hurt them.”

  “Very well, then,” Agina released an annoyed huff but gave in because it was necessary for her to do so if she were to get the hoydenish chit married and hang onto the luxuries she enjoyed in life. “See that you watch him, Dulcina. He’s not to torment my babies. If he does, I shall do something worse to him.”

  Shifting her attention elsewhere, Agina said, “Griff, take that … animal out to the hallway and give him to a footman to care for. I won’t have that detestable beast in the same room with me. Then return to us, and we’ll go in to supper.”

  Dulcie said to the stranger, “You might ask the footman to take Simon for a brief outing. It’s time, I think. Thank you.” She smiled as Simon trotted nicely beside the person her stepmother had called Griff.

  The countess turned to her stepdaughter again. “Well, then, let me look at you, Dulcina.”

  Dulcie stole another sideways glance at her stepmother. The countess was still lovely, her golden hair unadorned by a widow’s cap. The shiny tresses coiled into a loose knot at the back of her head. A pair of magnificent blue eyes dominated her oval face. Dulcie saw one reason why her father fell under the woman’s magical spell. It had to be because of her angelic beauty, certainly not her warm, charming manner.

  Agina eyed her stepdaughter’s appearance. Dulcie knew her stepmother was seeing all the detrimental things about her—her unexciting looks, her slightly robust physique, and her dowdy clothes. Even she knew she was plain-faced. Nor did she assume her figure was the least bit attractive. Her breasts were too generous and her hips were too wide. But she did know her legs were long and shapely from all that walking. She had inherited large, brown eyes and an unruly abundance of wavy hair from her mother’s side of the family. When Marnie had showed her what she could do with it, Dulcie was surprised that a hairstyle could so change one’s appearance.

  “Where in the world did you purchase that gown?” the countess commented. “It’s disgraceful. It has no style, no flair whatsoever. It will never catch a man’s eye.”

  “My clothes are meant to keep me warm in winter and cool in summer. I have no wish to catch a man’s eye,” Dulcie replied tartly. Then she remembered not be so mouthy and tempered her reply. “But I believe I will purchase a few new things while I am in London. For that, I will be glad of your help, Mother. I am ignorant of what is in fashion and would rather not look the frumpy, country mouse while I am here.”

  “Oh, I shall expect you to spend the Season here, my dear girl, until I procure you a suitable husband.”

  Oh Lord, there she goes again with those false endearments and her talk about marriage.

  “I already explained, Mother,” Dulcie said, emphasizing the word, “that I don’t wish to marry anyone. Not yet.”

  “Now is the time, when you are young, not later, Dulcina. We shall get it done between now and the end of June. Take my word on it.”

  The countess’s head swiveled when the doors to the parlor again opened. “Ah, good, here’s Griff.” She glanced at her stepdaughter and back to her temporary nephew. “By the way, Dulcina, allow me to present my nephew, Griffith Spencer. Griff, my stepdaughter, Dulcina Trayhern. Now let’s all go in to supper.”

  * * * *

  The three returned to the small parlor after finishing supper. The butler whispered to Dulcie that her dog had been taken up to her rooms and out of sight of the countess.

  “Griff,” the countess was saying, “You are welcome to something other than tea if you wish. There is port and brandy in the decanters and glasses on the sideboard.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Agina. I shall indulge myself in a glass of spirits. French brandy, is it?”

  Agina’s tweezed eyebrows rose only fractionally. Griff knew she hated the sound of it when her faux nephew addressed her with that horrid appellation. He had done so to mock their unlover-like agreement.

  Agina poured in silence, the tea tray resting upon a low-slung, Sheraton table. The countess and her stepdaughter chose identical blue, cushioned settees facing each other. Griff poured himself a glass of brandy and positioned himself in front of the marble fireplace, leaning an elbow on the mantel and listened to the women’s conversation.

  He watched without speaking as the women conversed. Like daggers drawn, Griff had noticed the strained tension arcing between the women early on and realized that neither was greatly enamored of the other.

  “Griff and I will keep you company, since it is your first night here, Dulcina,” the countess was saying, chattering about gossip and the Season’s upcoming festivities. “I usually attend everything that is going on during the Season. Staying home is such a crashing bore. I don’t suppose you play cards, do you, Dulcina?”

  “No. I’ve never learned,” Dulcie replied, raising the teacup to her lips for another sip.

  Griff’s eyes focused on the girl’s lips as she drew the tip of a pink tongue over the bottom lip and licked the errant drop of tea from one corner. A miniscule tightening of his groin muscles surprised him.

  “I have made several appointments for you, Dulcina,” the countess said. “I can’t send you out in the world to meet friends and acquaintances of the ton until you are properly dressed. Therefore, my dear, you must stay inside for the time being. Perhaps you will find something to amuse yourself while I am away from here. However, I am happy you graced us with your presence…even if you did bring that foul animal.”

  “I wish to do some shopping while I’m here, Mother.”

  “Hmm,” the countess paused. “You should be ready to go
out into Society in another week, but your shopping trips must wait. You’re to remain inside Eberley House, until you have a suitable wardrobe. Later, you may take a footman with you to the bazaars on Regent Street and elsewhere.”

  The countess continued, “I hope you have more fashion taste than I noticed in your wardrobe,” she said, the words acid-tinted. “Your father left you a tidy allowance, Dulcina. When you are finally well-dressed and wearing stylish gowns and fripperies, it shouldn’t be too difficult to snare a husband and bring him up to snuff.”

  Agina raised an inquiring eyebrow at her young cicisbeo, angling a sidewise glance at him, although she spoke to Dulcie. “Perhaps you will find something, or perhaps, someone, to amuse you while I am otherwise engaged, Dulcina.” Agina smiled.

  “I’m sure my nephew will be glad to entertain you.”

  Griff nodded. “Glad to do so, Aunt Agina,” he retorted, another glimmer of mischief emphasizing the age difference between nephew and aunt.

  The countess’s blue eyes radiated with a subtle glare when Griff repeated his sly innuendo. However, she suppressed her ire and smiled instead as she threw Griff another pointed look.

  “My dear nephew may even take the time to teach you how to flirt,” she said.

  Dulcie quickly replied, “It isn’t necessary, Mother. I already told you…”

  “Yes, it is, dear. You desperately need help. I told your father that ages ago. You are pudding-faced and untutored in the proper ways of the ton. It is time you buckled yourself to a suitable husband. I shall do what I can to prettify you, but you must behave pleasantly at all times…and, above all, make yourself available.”

  Griff sipped his liquor slowly, scrutinizing the face and figure of the young debutante who had little to say at the supper table. The girl was nothing out of the ordinary to Griff’s eyes. She was of medium height with a typical set of youthful features. She might be pretty if she did something with the rest of her appearance. As it was, she was dreadfully attired for an aristocrat. That much he noticed immediately. He had met her gaze earlier, behind tiny spectacles perched on her nose. The openness and candor shining from those immense, brown eyes of hers, magnified by the lenses, caused him some interest. They seemed unusually large, with an upward tilt to their almond shape. Surrounded as they were with thick, dark lashes, they needed no cosmetics to make them outstanding. He thought her eyes were her best feature.