Secret Reflection

by Jennifer Brassel

  No longer fearing that he would be misjudged, he stood before her in a loose-limbed, relaxed stance. She moved towards the mirror and placed a hand on the glass. ‘Until the police have gone I cannot search anyway. Maybe after dinner tonight?’

  The blue of his eyes darkened to become a stormy grey. ‘It is already decided, Kelly. You are to cease the search for my cousin’s journal. Once my days of reprieve are ended, you will still hear my voice, somewhat faintly. And I shall still see you. That is enough.’

  That thought brought a sharp stab of pain to her chest.

  ‘For you, but not for me,’ she sighed. ‘Nothing is certain until we find that journal. It could be that you will be released, unharmed. We must try.’

  A mixture of hope and fear filled his strong face. How she wished she could, just once, raise her hand to know that strength, to touch the warmth of his jaw, his throat. She closed her eyes and imagined what his skin would feel like under her fingertips and her body responded by sending a bolt of fire downward.

  ‘Kelly,’ he whispered.

  She lifted her lids and saw that he not only understood what her body was telling her, but that he felt it too. She had come to desire him on all levels despite the impossibility of such emotions, and from the yearning heat of his stare, she knew that he had as little control as she did.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, turning from the potency of his steady gaze. ‘I don’t mean to …’

  ‘It is … okay,’ he said the word as if tasting it for the first time. He cast her a rueful grin when she glanced back at him. ‘While it is agony not to be able to reach across the barrier and be close to you, simply to watch, to be near you, can and will suffice. It must. Why don’t you rest? I shall go to the various rooms and keep watch on the police until you awaken.’

  Again she put her hand to the glass, but this time she didn’t flinch when he lifted his own to join it. Energy, an electrical charge so strong it almost burned, flew between their hands as if to bind them. She gasped.

  The look of wonder on John’s face sent a dart of heat straight to her loins and her legs became so unsteady that she thought they might crumple beneath her. The temperature in the room seemed to rise by several degrees. Every nerve in her body began to scream with want, and yet they had not even touched! Her pulse stuttered and her nipples tightened until they stood out against her blouse, and as she watched him watching her, she knew neither of them could withstand such unfulfilled passion and remain sane.

  Backing away slowly, she let her gaze drop to the patterned carpet as the realisation hit her. If this was what it was like now, how would either of them cope in the coming days, let alone longer? For her it would be simple, whether on her own or by making use of someone like Richard, she, at least, could relieve her sexual tension if she became truly desperate. But finding relief for herself would be so unfair knowing that the man before her would never be able to achieve that same relief. And in all honesty she really didn’t believe she could bring herself to seek either of those solutions.

  As she drew a shuddering breath, she turned back to face him knowing deep in her heart that if she could not safely release him from his prison, she’d be duty bound to release him from whatever emotional hold she now had on him. She would have to leave and never come back. Even twenty years from now if they were to try again … she would have aged but he – he would be the same as ever, a virile man in his prime. No matter how much he thought he might feel for her, she could not in good conscience make him wait. He had waited too long for freedom already.

  When she gazed into his face and saw the poignant sadness there, she wondered whether he had discovered how to read her thoughts as well. It was as if he could see the resolution she had just made, as if he had already resigned himself to the loss of what they were both beginning to feel.

  ‘Go and rest,’ he murmured with a calmness that belied all the tension that flowed between them. ‘The Fates shall decide as they will. I have learned that it is a waste of my strength to dream for more. Please do not waste yours by wishing on my behalf. I am content.’

  Kelly wanted to rail against the mirror, wanted to smash the glass. How could he take all this so calmly? Deep within she knew that no man would ever again touch her soul as he was beginning to do. Could she spend her life without him?

  Stepping back she swallowed down the sense of despair that seemed to be growing inside her. She had to find a way. Even if it meant seeking out a psychic or sorcerer or some other crackpot she would never, until now, have believed could be legitimate. She had to find a way.

  ‘I think I’ll have a bath,’ she stated as she dragged her gaze from his and released her hair from the band that held it. ‘I’m all dusty from crawling around in the passage. Afterward, I’ll try to nap until the police have cleared out, and then we are going to find that damn journal!’

  She ignored the narrowed glare he sent her.

  ‘While I cannot stop you, I beg that you will take extra care. I cannot enter the hand mirror now it has been removed from the estate, so I am unable to escort you. Perhaps you can ask your Tom to help if you insist on continuing the search?’

  ‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘We’ll see.’

  Bowing, he favoured her with one of his devilish half-smiles. ‘I go to investigate the investigators.’ An instant later, he was gone.

  As she ran the bath she allowed some of the tension to drain from her shoulders. Her body still hummed with need but that too would die down once she had bathed. After dinner she planned to go over every inch of the library and if took all night, or many, then so be it.

  ‘What is the matter with you?’ Sonia complained, pouting her lower lip. It reminded him of a pair of juicy red cherries. A few minutes ago she’d shimmied down the bed to slip between his thighs and had been attempting to work her magic with her mouth. But he didn’t much feel like it. ‘You’ve never had a problem getting it up before.’

  Narrowing his eyes he took in her tousled hair and her smeared lipstick, and decided he was bored. She again put her mouth on him, her hot wet tongue swirling around the tip of his penis and though a momentary surge of desire shot through his gut, the thought that he needed to get Kelly tied to him, and fast, still distracted him. While he was laying here being serviced by Sonia, he could be back at Stanthorpe seducing Kelly instead.

  ‘Fuck it!’ he exclaimed when his mobile phone went off again. He knew without looking at the display that it would be that cop. The man had left five messages already and Richard knew if he didn’t answer it soon, they’d think he’d done a runner – something that would undoubtedly make him look guilty. Right now, he needed to get his priorities straight.

  With a sigh he realised there was nothing for it, he’d have to head back to Stanthorpe and get it all sorted otherwise he could lose everything.

  Grabbing Sonia’s thick auburn hair, he pulled her head back. Her lips made a soft popping noise when she let go. ‘What the—?’ she began, but he flung her head back none too gently, then swung his leg over her and sat up.

  ‘I gotta go,’ he said, reaching for his briefs.

  ‘But you said you’d stay over!’ She sat up on her haunches and pouted again. ‘I had supper planned and everything.’ She reached out and attempted to wrap her arms around his neck. ‘C’mon, Ricky, you promised. I’ll even let you— owww!’ she yelped when he slapped her.

  She drew her hand to her burning cheek. ‘What was that for?’

  ‘That was for whining. You know I hate whiny women.’ He stood and pulled his jeans up, buttoning the fly with brisk, practised movements. ‘I just remembered some business I forgot back at Stanthorpe.’

  ‘But what business can you do at this time of night? Why not stay and get going early in the morning?’

  He glanced across at her bedside clock. It was after eight. He could make it back to the coach house and dig out the journal ready to tempt Kelly in the morning. And on the way he might also pay a visit to Will Montgomery to find
out what he’d told the police. Yes – he needed to know exactly what Will had said.

  ‘I have to get back tonight and that is that.’ He turned away from her and gathered his keys and mobile phone before buttoning his shirt. ‘I’m not sure when I’ll see you next … I might need to take a trip to New York. I’ll let you know.’

  ‘New York?’ she bounded off the bed, her full breasts swaying as she came up beside him. ‘Can I come, Ricky, please … pretty please?’

  He cast her a look of disdain before sitting on the side of the bed to concentrate on his shoes. ‘Sorry, Sonnie, this trip is purely business … you’d just be in the way.’

  She circled around him and smiled sweetly, rubbing herself against him like a cat. ‘No I wouldn’t, Ricky, I promise I wouldn’t.’

  Without warning he swung his hand and clipped her on the cheek for the second time. She fell to the floor and gazed up at him, her eyes wide with shock.

  ‘I said NO and I mean it,’ he growled in a low, satisfied voice knowing she’d have a whopper of a bruise come morning. He didn’t help her up, just stepped around her and headed for the door.

  By the time his Jaguar neared the turn-off to Garford, Richard had planned his attack. Even though Will needed to be at the stables by dawn he knew the man would still be up watching cable. He played the ponies all around the world and had a reputation for switching from one hemisphere to the other to place his bets. At this time of night he’d probably be watching the races in South Africa or Australia or somewhere else on the other side of the world.

  The phone calls from the police meant Will hadn’t been bluffing. Richard knew they were probably on the lookout for him so he decided to park down the road from Will’s house and jog up the rear lane to the back entrance. He knew Will’s place well, having been there many times to settle up, or on the odd occasion, collect his winnings from the day’s punting.

  As he suspected, the kitchen blazed with light and he could hear the television going in the background. He knocked.

  Less than a minute later young Eithne came to the door. She’d grown somewhat since he’d last been by, her legs had slimmed down and she had a coltish look about her. She wore bright blue shorts and a semi-transparent blouse, and he could see she was just beginning to come to full womanhood. Her eyes, so like Dee’s, widened as she recognised who stood at the door.

  ‘He ain’t ’ere, Mr Ditchley,’ she said without bothering to greet him, ‘he’s gone to the stables.’

  ‘Do you think he’ll be long? I need to speak to him.’

  She shrugged and turned. As she walked away he watched the gentle sway of her hips. When she reached the other side of the kitchen she half-turned. ‘If you want to come in and wait, y’can.’

  He wasn’t sure that was such a good idea after his last few run-ins with Will, but then again he couldn’t just stand around the back door all night and he did need to know what trouble Will might have got him into. Cautiously, he opened the screen and let it shut with a squeak behind him.

  ‘Close the door after ya,’ Eithne bellowed from the adjacent room.

  In the doorway to the parlour he found her sitting cross-legged on the couch opposite a large-screen TV.

  ‘What’s on?’ he asked as he sidled in, catching a glimpse of her bright red panties beneath the leg of her shorts.

  She shrugged again. ‘Nothin’ much.’

  He sat in an armchair where he could see both the girl and the back door, ready to jump to attention the minute Will showed up.

  After several minutes silence, during which she ignored him completely, he said, ‘I’m sorry about Dee.’

  Eithne’s eyes flashed to his then back at the television. She showed no emotion.

  ‘Do you know when the funeral will be?’ he tried again.

  She shook her head but didn’t answer. Instead she took a cushion from the corner of the couch and lay sideways, though she kept one leg propped, which meant he could still see down the leg of her shorts and, though he tried not to look, his eyes kept being drawn there. He felt his groin hardening and decided that this was a bad move right now, what with the accusations Will might have made.

  Rising, he said, ‘Perhaps I ought to wait outside for your dad.’

  ‘If that’s what you want,’ she lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug.

  When he reached the back door, he heard her behind him and turned. ‘Hey, Mr Ditchley … have you found anyone to take over Dee’s job at the manor? I’m pretty good at cleaning cars and I’ve taken care of the horse’s tack for Dad.’

  ‘How old are you, Eithne?’ he asked, wondering if God had just smiled on him again. He shifted from one leg to the other in an attempt to lessen the tightness of his jeans.

  ‘Nearly fourteen. I’d work real hard, Mr Ditchley. Me dad, he don’t believe in pocket-money and a girl needs stuff, y’know.’ She smiled in that innocent way that Dee had all those years ago.

  He nodded sagely thinking how delightful it would be to teach Eithne all the skills he’d taught her sister. ‘Come see me after the funeral, Eithne, and I’ll see what we can sort out.’

  A car door slammed behind him and he spun about to see Will Montgomery, covered in dirt, glowering at him.

  ‘You get away from my little girl!’ he yelled.

  Richard held up his hands to show they were empty. ‘I was just waiting to talk to you, Will. I’ve only been here a minute.’

  Will’s eyes narrowed, first at Richard and then at his daughter. ‘Go to bed now, Eithne.’

  ‘Fine,’ she snarled before dissolving into the shadows of the parlour.

  ‘What do you want?’ Will demanded, hands on hips.

  Will was shorter than Richard but far stockier and after the punch he delivered the other night, Richard was certain he didn’t want to mix it with him again.

  ‘I want to know what you told the cops.’

  Will bore down on him and crowded his space. Richard backed up against the screen door. ‘I told ‘em what my Deanna told me – that you’ve been doin’ her for years.’

  Richard felt the heat rising up his neck. She wouldn’t have told him, surely! His heart began to beat harder and he slid sideways to gain a little distance.

  ‘C’mon, Will, you didn’t believe her, did you?’

  ‘Of course I believed her. She was pregnant with your brat and it weren’t the first time!’

  Again Richard backed up a step and shook his head slowly. He didn’t know whether he was denying it to Will or himself but it didn’t matter.

  ‘You can’t be serious. She must have had half a dozen boys in the village panting after her.’

  Will raised his fists and Richard took another step backward. The rosebush behind him stabbed his legs but he ignored the prickling sensation.

  ‘Dee might have been a cheap little whore but she always told me the truth. I’m willing to bet all you owe Denny that when the police do their tests, they’ll find out you were going to be a daddy.’

  Oh God, please, let the kid belong to someone else!

  He swallowed. Hard. ‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Will.’

  With that he turned and headed for the lane, trying hard to quell the panic that rose in his chest. When he reached the car he chanced a look back at the house. Will stood there, haloed by the porch light, just staring at him.

  By the time he pulled the Jag into the garage of the coach house Richard had calmed a little. As far as he knew the police could not compel him to give his blood for a paternity test and unless they had some kind of evidence … all they had was Will’s word against his. The first thing he needed to do above all else was convince Kelly that he was falling in love with her. If he could make her do the same, then she wouldn’t believe any of Will’s lies. The next thing would be to contact his lawyer – just in case.

  Glancing at his watch he considered his next move. It was late – after eleven. Did he dare go over to the manor and pay Kelly a visit? Maybe he could sedu
ce her tonight and put his plans into motion. The lord knew that Eithne’s little display had made him horny as hell and sating himself with Kelly did have a lot of appeal.

  Yes, a quick shower and a midnight rendezvous sounded very romantic.

  Kelly’s eyes fluttered open as a warm breeze flowed over her bare skin in a sweet caress. She’d left the window ajar – the evening had grown balmy. In the back of her mind she knew that she had slept long past the time she had wanted, but her tired limbs were so languid after her bath, she just couldn’t force herself to move.

  At some point, under the cover of the darkness, she’d stripped off her t-shirt and pushed down the bedding so she could let the gentle wisps of air cool her bare breasts.

  Although she couldn’t see John in the mirror, she knew that he watched her – she felt him; he’d become part of her awareness. A stab of guilt assailed her for displaying herself almost naked before him. Yet she secretly wanted him to see all of her, to know all of her, even if only by sight. She belonged to him now, in spirit at least, and she wanted them to join in whatever way possible.

  Closing her eyes she imagined what it would be like if he could touch her. Goosebumps rose on her skin at the mere thought of his hands upon her. She smiled to herself and drifted off as the scent of her own arousal rose into the air.

  The warm press of his hands lingered in her mind and the bed dipped slightly. She rolled into him and felt his hand sweep up her back, making every nerve tingle.

  Soft lips grazed her neck, whispering words of love that were beyond her hearing. But she answered them with her own nonetheless. She wove her hands into his hair. The cool strands were silky and smelled of sandalwood.

  His mouth made a meandering course up her neck and over her cheek then across to finally capture her lips. Again he didn’t force, but coaxed with wet nips at her lower lip until she couldn’t help but open her mouth on a satisfied sigh. He didn’t enter immediately, but played with her lips, sucking gently – first the top, then the bottom – before tasting more deeply with his tongue.

  Heat fired through her, pooling in all the places she so wished he could touch. She could feel her nipples puckering, rising towards him, begging for his hands, his mouth.