by Brogan, Kim
“Who lives here?”
He looked slightly surprised at her question. “I do. It’s my flat in London. My family has a larger townhome, but I can’t stand the hordes of people that come and go all the time, so I stay here. I bought this one right after my divorce.”
He opened the door and they walked up the stairs to the interior of the impressive townhouse. It had a large parlor with a shiny grand piano nestled close to the interior wall. The dining area and the living room were separated by white columns going up to the 15 foot ceilings with equally tall windows facing a park. The kitchen was modern with an island/breakfast bar. Henry showed Maggie the two guest rooms and then finally his room with the two large closets, ensuite bathroom, fireplace, and queen sized bed. The bedroom was beautiful with three large bay windows, a window seat and a small fireplace. The large ensuite bathroom was tiled in marble and had a large claw-foot tub that obviously wasn’t from the twentieth century.
“Now Maggie, you have to decide. Do you want your own room or do you want to keep me company?”
Maggie knew this was coming. It would have been easier if he had just had one bedroom and the question didn’t have to be asked. But here she was—did she jump in his bed? Would he think she was rather cavalier, having only just left Campbell’s bed weeks ago? Or, if she agreed to sleep with him, would he consider it a mature decision based on the fact she was trying to move on?
“Your bedroom has the nice fireplace and view. Would you mind terribly if I put my things in there?”
He laughed, took her around the waist and pulled her into him, kissing her lips lightly at first. She pulled back to look at him; his expression was soft from the kiss. Henry looked at an errant lock that was hanging from her forehead. Sweeping it back, he looked down at her mouth again. This time he closed his eyes and so did she. Their lips connected, tongues met and bodies pressed into each other. She was warm and ready. He let his hand slip down from her waist, over her hip to her ass, pulling her as close as possible, only breaking their kiss to whisper, “We have enough time before the party if you’d like to...”
Maggie pushed back, “Party?”
“Party. It doesn’t start until 9:00 p.m. We have time to have a quick shag, shower and dinner.”
Her heart was beating in her throat, “I didn’t bring anything to wear to a party!”
“Don’t worry, Fiona stays here frequently when she’s in London. She has a whole closet of clothes you can wear. We’ll sort you out after we have some fun.”
Maggie bit her lip and ran her hands through her hair. It wasn’t the sex that was making her palms cold and clammy. She knew Henry was an Earl and the party wouldn’t be at some frat house. It’s my own damn fault. I should have thought this through. I should have asked some questions. Oh damn, I’m such an idiot.
“Henry, would you be terribly upset if we postponed the quick shag until tonight when we get back? I know this sounds like a horrible cliché, but I really do have a headache. Maybe if I lie down a while, it will go away.” Maggie wasn’t lying. Her head had exploded into throbbing waves of pain. But, it wasn’t just the headache, she also needed time to think, think about what she was getting herself into.
Henry squeezed her hand and smiled, his eyes crinkled. “Maggie, it’s okay. We don’t have to rush anything. Before you go to sleep, come with me.”
Maggie walked with him through the hall and over to one of the guest bedrooms. When she entered he had her sit on the cream-colored Italian cotton duvet with green silk piping around it. “Let’s see. You’re shorter and just a little smaller than Fiona, so let’s look. Ah, you see this dress? This is what she calls her “skinny dress.” She wears it after she’s been dieting for weeks. Try it on.”
Maggie felt like crying and it showed. “I can tell that the dress will fit, but what do I do about shoes? I think these sneakers will be the crowning touch, don’t you?”
He grabbed some shoes out of the closet, “She wears a 6.”
She took a deep breath, “I wear a British 4.”
“Oh! Bloody small feet aren’t they?”
She chuckled. “I guess.”
“Hmmm. You go to sleep and it will all be sorted when you wake up. Trust me.” He reached over and kissed her on the cheek, smiled, and then escorted her back to his bedroom.
The room was impressively dressed in royal blues and tans, very sophisticated and yet, comfortable. Maggie knew the royal blue with gold pinstriped silk-organza drapes hanging on the three windows were worth more than her tuition to Cambridge for the semester. She took off her shoes and lay back on the bed, looking up at the molding and gold inlay on the ceiling. Feeling dizzy; she cursed to herself—she was in over her head. She was a girl from Buena Vista, California, a lower middle class burb near Knotts Berry Farm. How was she supposed to swim in these waters?
Maggie woke up around 7:00, her mouth feeling like cotton balls had been stuffed down her throat. She took a drink of water and tiptoed to the door. Opening it quietly, she was surprised to see five pairs of women’s shoes, size four, waiting in an orderly fashion for her to choose. Three were three inch dress heels, one was a pair of boots, and the fourth was a pair of Cole Hahn loafers.
A voice rang out from the living room, “Try the shoes on and let us know.”
She answered weakly, “Okay.”
Maggie went through the pairs of Stuart Weitzman, Jimmy Choo and Prada shoes. Only the Jimmy Choos didn’t fit, they were slightly too large. She took a shower, applied what little makeup she had brought and styled her hair. She slipped on the wrap dress, the Prada sling backs, and walked out to the living room.
He whistled. “Bugger all, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Fiona is going to hate me. You look much better than she does in the dress. Ready to go?”
She felt butterflies in her stomach, “Sure.”
*********************
It was worse than she imagined. The mansion was only fifteen miles south of London in an area that smelled like money to Maggie. As they drove up the long driveway, she nervously looked at an impeccably dressed Henry, taking comfort in the fact that he seemed so relaxed and in control. He had on summer weight wool trousers (crisply pressed), a silk t-shirt and black leather jacket. He glanced over at her, saw her nervous twitch and grinned.
“They don’t bite, Mags.” He said sweetly.
“You say that, but I find it really nerve-wracking. I’ve never been around the aristocracy.”‘
“Yes, you have. You were around Campbell for several weeks.”
“But, I didn’t really know he was a mucky-muck until after we broke up.”
“Broke up?”
“I mean, stopped seeing each other.”
“Were you two really close?”
“Do we have to talk about Campbell? He made his decision and it wasn’t me.”
He pulled up and parked his own car even though there were valets present to do the deed. He quickly jaunted around the car to open the passenger side for Maggie who carefully stepped out in the dress and lovely Prada shoes that she was afraid of getting dirty.
“Henry, don’t walk so fast. I need to watch where I’m going.”
He nuzzled her hair. “They are just shoes.”
“Prada? Yeah, and your Aston Martin is just a car.”
He snickered. “Point well taken.”
Maggie looked up at the Georgian hall, three stories tall and all lit up in flood and landscaping lights. The building was a gorgeous golden block with eight foot tall windows that lined the outside. There was an expansive four step entry to the massive oak doors which were opened by a butler in perfect coat and tails. They walked into the foyer of the hall. Maggie swallowed hard as she glanced up at the double sided staircase, large Waterford chandelier and impeccably polished marble stairs. Her wrap was taken by a maid as they moved further into the hall. She looked across at the large mirror over the Chippendale entry table. After checking her lipstick and fluffing her hair, Maggie felt ready to f
ace Henry’s friends. She could hear music, laughter and voices coming from the rooms to both her left and right.
“Henry!” The voice came from a tall man, thick-rimmed glasses, slightly balding and thin. He patted Henry’s back as if they hadn’t seen each other for years.
“Charles, steady on, that’s my shoulder, not your girlfriend’s ass.” Henry held out an arm to Maggie, “Charles, this is Maggie. Maggie, this is Charles.”
“Thank you for having me, Charles.”
“Oh, so you’re the Yank.” he said it with a smile that seemed to be a mixture of both genuine pleasure and deceitful interest.
Maggie thought Charles was only interested in the fact that she was on the arm of Henry, nothing more. They walked into a large room lit with dozens of lamps that would have lit a smaller room so bright every shadow would be banished, but in this massive room, the lights barely gave definition to the faces that floated through the room laughing and talking. The room was filled with three or more dozen people. The music was blaring; a foursome was playing cards in the corner; drinks were being poured. Several couples walked over to Henry and Maggie. Henry made introductions and Maggie received the once over from the males as well as the females. Fiona looked up from the couch and smiled at Maggie who smiled back.
Fiona parted the crowd. “Maggie, so good of you to come. I see Henry has introduced you to my limited weekend wardrobe. You look darling in that dress.” She looked at Maggie’s feet. “Henry, great taste in the shoes!” She glanced back up at Maggie, “Henry rang me and told me about the shoe dilemma. I put him in contact online with Harrods.”
“Oh! Now it makes sense. I wondered how they had appeared out of the blue.”
“You look bril darling. Come with me, let me introduce you around.”
Fiona’s arm entangled Maggie’s and she was whisked away from Henry’s side past the sofa area. Maggie looked furtively over her shoulder at him, but he seemed nonplused by it all. Henry was engaged in conversation with his friends.
Maggie was introduced throughout the group to Lords, Dames, Earls, Knights, Barons, Dukes and numerous political gadflies. Fiona kept the conversations going until she saw a friend across the room and ran to greet her. Maggie found herself with five women, all wives and sisters of important men. The conversation continued with news of balls, flower shows, exhibitions, things that Maggie knew nothing about. She felt out of sorts, overwhelmed by the entire scene. Excusing herself, she left when she realized that she had nothing to offer to the conversation.
Maggie walked across a massive rug which she determined might be older than her great-great-grandfather. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Henry laughing and talking animatedly with his hands. There was a dark oak door leading to another room about ten feet in front of her. Maggie decided she needed a break and walked through the door into a rather impressive library with huge shelves crammed full of books that were leathery, some dusty, and all impressive to look at. She took in her surroundings, noting the large fireplace and then, off to the side, two men, both in sports coats.
Her heart missed a beat, growing heavier as she stood there. His blue eyes met hers. She tried to run, but Campbell called out, “Maggie!”
She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath and then turned to face him. “Campbell?”
Campbell looked somewhat stunned, but recovered. “Geoff, if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t seen Maggie in a while.”
“Righto, I need to refresh my drink.” He walked up to Maggie, “Nice to meet you Maggie, I’m Geoff.”
Maggie smiled, shook his hand, “Nice to meet you Geoff.”
“Drink?” he asked, his gray eyes analyzing her every move.
“Not yet, thank you.”
“I’ll leave you two alone.”
Maggie gave a weak smile, wishing Geoff wouldn’t leave them alone. Geoff made his way through the oak doors, closing them on the way out. She watched Campbell cross the floor.
His eyes looked sad, his voice soft, “How have you been?”
“Oh, I’ve had a cold, but I’m doing fine at school. Nice chatting with you.” She twirled on her heels and started to walk away, but his hand on her arm prevented her. She looked down at the long fingers she used to love to hold. “Something else?”
He pleaded, “Maggie.”
She mocked him, “Campbell.”
Campbell exhaled, frustrated, “I’m sorry. Really.”
“Great. Can I go now?”
Rubbing his forehead, he took a deep breath and paused before beginning again, “Maggie, I’d like for us to be friends.”
She chuckled, “Yeah? And I’d like fifteen minutes alone with George Clooney.”
He clenched his teeth. “Oh good God, can’t we be civilized?”
She started laughing. “Civilized? I was the summer sacrificial lust fest. I don’t think civilized is the word I’d use for what we can be.”
He shook his head slightly and then he furred his brow with curiosity. “Who did you come with?”
“Henry.”
She saw something pass over his face, something hard and angry. It disappeared as quickly as it started. He smiled at her. “Yes, of course, I told him you two would make a good couple. Jolly good.”
“Oh yes, jolly good.”
There was a pause so thick Maggie had to take a deep breath. Campbell started to move towards her. Maggie jumped back. The door opened and Henry stepped inside, stopped and looked at the two of them, staring at each other.
“Hallo? What’s this? You two look like you’re about ready to tango.”
“I was just leaving.” Maggie announced. She brushed past him and flew out to the Great Room.
Henry looked over at Campbell, seeing the pain all over his face. “I thought you said it was finished?”
“It is. I was just trying to offer an olive branch. I’ve even botched that.”
Henry exhaled. “Well, you better try again because you may be seeing a lot of her around.”
Campbell jerked his head around and looked at Henry. “Why?”
Henry shuffled over, his hands in his pocket. “Campbell, I like this one. Depending on how well she shags, I’m going to keep her around for a while.”
Campbell had no doubt that Henry would appreciate the talents of Maggie in the bedroom. “You are joking, right?”
“No, I’m not. Why do you care?”
He grimaced. “Because obviously it didn’t end well and if she is going to be around, I need to figure out what to do about our differences.”
Henry put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, just give it some time. Maggie seems to have a big heart, I’m sure she’ll forgive you—someday.”
Campbell smirked, “I hope you know what you are doing.”
“Come on chap, let’s join the others.”
They walked out together, Campbell feeling slightly sick to his stomach. He looked across the room at Maggie, her back to him, now engaged in a conversation with Geoff. He poured himself a drink and watched Maggie, remembering the soft curves of her legs, the willowy arms, and the smell of her hair. Fiona walked up and shook her head at him.
“You better figure this out. Henry’s all bonkers over her. I can’t have my best friends fighting over a Yank, no matter how salacious it may seem. Campbell, you screwed it up. It’s Henry’s turn now. You need to wish him well.”
He frowned and shook his head. “I’m more than happy to be just friends, but Maggie seems to find it a little more difficult.” He took one last look in Maggie’s direction and then turned to face Fiona. “Gemma called. She wants to have dinner.”
Fiona exhaled and put her hand to her forehead and clenched her fist. Looking down she quietly stamped a foot. “Bloody hell. Gemma? You’re thinking about going out with Gemma again?”
Campbell saw the disappointment in her face and grit his teeth, “Dinner. We’re just having dinner. It’s not like we’re announcing the banns.”
“So stock boy’s f
ailure to give her a title has finally sent her running home to you.”
“Damn it Fiona, she’s not like that. I didn’t give her the attention she deserved, that’s why she left.”
“Oh for God’s sakes, you gave her plenty of attention. You just didn’t give her the wedding ring and title she wanted.”
“I’m not having this conversation. Drop it.”
“You really are pathetic. Maggie’s quite a bit nicer than Gemma was on a good day. Granted, Gemma may be more beautiful, but not by much. At least with Maggie you could have an intelligent conversation that didn’t have the words Gucci or Armani in it.”
Campbell flashed her a scowl and stormed off. Fiona watched him walk through the crowd and out to the foyer, she followed, reaching the foyer in time to see him rush through the front door. Shaking her head, she cursed under her breath.
Chapter 9
Hoorah Henry!
I had three drinks which put me just shy of being shitfaced. Henry gathered me up just after one a.m., putting his arms around me from behind and kissing my neck.
“Mags? Ready to leave?”
I turned around and looked in his friendly blue eyes. He looked so handsome and happy. “Henry! Of course I’m ready. Anytime you are!”
“Then let’s go.”
We grabbed our things and made our way back to London, holding hands and laughing about the evening events. Henry gave a good impression of Geoff that had me in stitches. When we arrived back at the flat we started mauling each other as soon as we got out of the car. I thought we were going to consummate the deal on the hood of his Aston Martin with me hanging on for dear life.