Good Manors

by Victoria Blisse

  I was an analyzer. I’d always done it. I’d take a situation and run though in my brain all the possible outcomes. I fixed problems by imagining lots of different ways of doing it and picking the one that seemed most likely to work. I spent the car journey imagining scenarios.

  What if she wasn’t in? What if she slammed the door in my face? What if there was another man in her flat? You name it, I thought it, and the farther away from the manor I got the more nervous I became.

  Would it really be so bad just to have those few days with India? I’d always be able to remember them. Wouldn’t that be better than an out-and-out rejection? But ‘what if’… That was what kept me going. Hope. What if she felt the same way? Together I knew we could make it work. Between us we could come up with a plan.

  My frustration grew, road signs were unhelpful and traffic grew heavier. I didn’t do well in cities and remembered why as I crawled up roads at snail’s pace and got turned around by one-way streets. Then when I found her apartment block there was the challenge of parking. Finally I got a space, turned off the car and sat still, staring through the windscreen.

  What if…had powered me that far but it then started backfiring on me. I imagined all the negative reactions she could have and I wasn’t sure I could face her. Could I face having my hopes crushed to dust?

  In the end I decided. I had to know one way or the other, then I could move on. If I didn’t go to see her then ‘what if’ would plague me for the rest of my life. Acutely aware of my heartbeat, I ascended the elevator to her floor. My mouth was dry, I kept swallowing and gasping. Terror enveloped me when I reached her door.

  For one split second I contemplated running away but didn’t. I knocked.

  Chapter Nineteen

  India Grace

  Weeks of nothing loomed in front of me. I wouldn’t be sent to a new manor for a while and apart from the Monday morning meeting at the office there was nothing for me to do. How was I going to survive at all with thoughts of him spinning in my head? I did my best. I’d only thought of him a million times since sending the email and done precisely no work. I kept attempting to but I’d get distracted by funny cats and stupid personality quizzes.

  It was when I needed a pen—to write down the Countdown Conundrum—that I opened my bag and found the scrunched up paper I’d picked up at Mallard’s. I unscrunched it.

  Old Marsden’s Place 9pm

  Weird. Maybe it was a love letter from Jenny. That was her last name, so maybe she was arranging a rendezvous with Harry or something. I tossed it back into my bag.

  I didn’t want to think about Mallard’s and certainly didn’t want to think about Xander but I just couldn’t settle to anything else. I slept fitfully, couldn’t eat, didn’t bother getting out of my nightie. It was only the knock on the door that made me even realize what I was wearing.

  I ignored the first knock—it was either someone wanting to sell me something or a neighbor after a cup of sugar, but then the door rattled again with a more determined thump and it became clear that whoever it was wouldn’t go away until I answered. I looked through the little spyhole in the center of the door and nearly fell over backward with shock.

  “What the…” I struggled to open the door through my shakes, to find Xander staring straight at me.

  “India…” He didn’t say another word, simply walked forward and kissed me. The heat of the kiss was ferocious, making me gasp with the intensity. He pushed me back, knocking the door closed behind us.

  “Xander,” I panted. “Xander, what are you doing here?”

  “Fucking you,” he replied, looked around then thrust me backward again.

  I kept kissing him as I retreated, caught up in the wonder of him being in my flat. In my untidiness, I hadn’t been arsed to clear up.

  “But you shouldn’t be here, and God, I’m not dressed and we can’t—”

  He cut me off with another deep kiss and continued to maneuver me. The back of the sofa hit my calves. Xander kept on shoving, and I dropped onto it. He followed moments after.

  “Xander—”

  He kissed me again, a very effective way of making me shut up, and with the weight of his body squashing me against the sofa arm, I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, because there he was, on top of me, hot and hard and immovable.

  “Xander—” I tried again. I had to try again. It was madness, wasn’t it? Hell, it could even have been a hallucination for all I knew but I just couldn’t let myself surrender. My heart was already breaking, how could this make it any better? We’d have to say our final goodbye a third time. I’d fall apart.

  “Shut up, India.” His lips pressed against mine insistently and it was impossible not to react, to press back.

  His kisses were addictive. Xander ran his hands up under my nightie and squeezed my breasts. There was nothing stopping him because mortifyingly I was still in my nightwear, and God, I hadn’t even had a shower. Xander didn’t seem at all put off, even though my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He was focused on one thing, the one thing he’d said he’d come for. To fuck me.

  Lifting my nightie higher, he bent and sucked my nipples. I gave up fighting then—I was being flooded by physical pleasure and my mind couldn’t cope with being negative anymore. Yes, as soon as the rush of endorphins ended we’d have to talk but until that moment I decided to give in to the madness, to give in to Xander’s powerful lust and my longing for him.

  My breathing quickened. He pushed a hand down over my stomach and lower. Xander kissed me again, long and slow, and when his fingers slipped inside me, he fucked me with the same rhythm and precision. All my thoughts centered on my clit. Nothing else mattered but pleasure—mine and his. The quest for orgasm replaced the search for knowledge.

  I traced a one-digit pattern on his shoulder, and he dropped his kisses to my neck, all the time pumping his fingers between my thighs. I loved the push and pull, the sound of my wetness clinging to his digits and the shocks of pain that jolted through me when he changed from kissing to nibbling my flesh. I gasped and groaned at his ministrations, alive with arousal and desperate for more of him. I enjoyed his fingers in me, his lips on me, but I wanted more, I wanted all of him.

  Just like he’d sensed my innermost wish he pulled his hand away from me then unzipped his jeans. I watched as he shoved them down his legs. Tracing the strong muscles of his softly haired thighs with my gaze, up to his hard-on, I moaned, eager to feel him within me.

  It seemed he was equally eager because a moment later he was inside me. I hooked my leg around his waist and wrapped him close in an embrace. I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted him to stay forever with me, within me, part of me.

  We didn’t speak, the only sounds were the creakings of my sofa and the labored rasp of our breathing. I couldn’t look at him—if I did I knew I’d cry. I was so relieved he was with me. Part of me still wondered if he was a mirage, and the idea of letting go again, the inevitable parting, broke my heart.

  I screwed my eyes closed and willed those thoughts away. I concentrated on the rhythmic pull and push of his hips, the scuff of his pelvis against mine, the throb of his cock within me. My pussy tightened around him, squeezed him harder. I dug my nails into his back as pleasure rippled through me. I clung onto him with everything I had, desperate to keep him with me, to show him what it meant to me that he was there.

  “God, oh God,” he groaned, his hips quickening, his thighs shaking.

  He called my name when he came, arched and pressed into me. I held him closer, squeezed him to me. He relaxed and laid his head on my shoulder. The explosion of orgasm ended, the quiet sadness of inevitable heartbreak settled over me.

  “Hello,” I whispered, stroking his back.

  “Hi,” he replied, his words muffled against my chest.

  “Why are you here, Xander?”

  “Well,” he replied between pressing butterfly kisses to my chest. “I thought that was rather obvious.”

  “Xander.” The rough no
te to my voice showed I meant business. “Why are you here?”

  “I missed you.”

  Tears bubbled into my eyes and I flickered my eyelashes to be rid of them.

  “I missed you too but—”

  “Don’t say it, please, don’t finish what you were saying. Not yet, please, not yet.”

  I stroked his back and we lay together in silence. Not a comfortable silence. We both knew we couldn’t exist in the bubble that just contained ‘I miss you’—we had to move on.

  “But it can’t work out, you and me.” There, I finished my sentence.

  “I don’t think it’s that black and white, India. I’ve been thinking—”

  “You have the manor, Xander. It needs you. I have my work that takes me all over the country, in fact, there’s talk of taking me into Europe.”

  “Do you not want me, then, India?” His question echoed with bitterness.

  “Xander, it’s not that simple.” I sighed. “I want you, of course I want you, but there are things in the way, insurmountable things.”

  “I don’t think they’re insurmountable,” he replied. “I can be a little less married to my job. Mary is perfectly capable of looking after things when I’m not around. She’s in charge now. I can get away from Mallard’s more often. It’s just a case of scheduling.”

  “Xander—” I kissed the top of his head and gulped back all emotion.

  “What, India? What? I don’t understand. I want you in my life and I’m willing to change to make that happen. Why are you still resisting me?”

  He pushed up and away from my body. Scrambled into his jeans. I sat up, pulled my nightgown right down over my knees and curled into the corner of the sofa.

  “I have to, Xander,” I finally whispered. “It’s not just about scheduling.”

  He sat at the end of the sofa and worried his fingers together. “What is it about?” He ground the words out between his teeth.

  I let the silence linger. I had to tell him the truth. It wasn’t fair to keep hiding, to make more excuses. He’d see right through them anyway. Before I could speak he continued.

  “God, India. I’ve had the best time with you. I’ve shown you so much of Mallard’s, all the secret bits. I’ve shown you so much of me and all my secret bits. I’ve laid myself out for you, given you everything. Jesus, I’m here, aren’t I? Is this all a waste of my time? Just tell me, India. Just tell me and I’ll leave your life forever.”

  I looked up into his eyes and the anger that burned behind the brilliant blue hurt so badly that the tears I’d barely held back poured down my face. My body was wracked with sobs.

  “Jesus, India, what is it?” He moved along the couch and wrapped his arms around me.

  I held him close and cried. I couldn’t form words, I couldn’t think. It just hurt so much. It was all so very wrong.

  He held me, ran his hands through my hair and let me cry. I fell apart—I’d been struggling to hold everything together. To hold back the guilt and pain, to pretend it didn’t exist. I should never have let things go as far as they had. I should have shut it all down before anything had even started.

  But I’d let him into my heart and now I had to tell him my secret. Let him know just what an evil, wicked woman I was. He’d never be able to forgive me. I had to tell him then I’d never, ever see him again.

  “Tell me,” he whispered against my ear once the sobs had quietened and my tears had dried. “It’s okay, India, just tell me.”

  Pushing out of his embrace, I took a breath to steady myself. “Okay, I have a confession to make. Something I should have told you before… Well, something I should have told you.”

  Xander ran a hand through his dark hair then dropped it to his lap.

  “Okay, tell me.”

  How did I tell him? I opened my mouth to start then closed it again. I lifted my hand to make a point as I started to talk but before the first word escaped my lips it faded and I ran my hand back through my hair.

  “It’s not easy.” I looked at him. “I’m sorry, I know this is making it worse for you but I just don’t know how to tell you this because it’s going to hurt. Me, you, both of us.”

  “Take your time.” He gulped. “I don’t want to hear this but I know I have to.”

  “Yeah.” The word juddered. I covered my eyes with my hand and slid it down over my cheek. “Okay. I’m just going to say it. I’m sorry. Before I say it I want you to know that I am so incredibly sorry.”

  A phone rang. It wasn’t mine, and by the annoyed expression that passed across Xander’s face, it was his. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

  “I’ll switch this off…” He glanced at the screen and changed his mind. “God, it’s Mary, hang on.”

  “What is it?” he asked, not even starting with a greeting. “Shit. Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can. A couple of hours max. Call the police, tell them everything.”

  “What’s happened?” I asked.

  “Grace is missing.” Xander stood. “I’m sorry but I have to go.”

  “Has she got out?” I asked.

  “No, it looks like she’s been stolen.”

  “Oh my God.” I covered my mouth. “Who would—?”

  Xander shrugged.

  “I’ve got to go right now.”

  “Hold on, let me change, I’m coming with you.”

  “What?” He shook his head.

  “You need all hands on deck and, God, I don’t want to say it but you might need my veterinary skills. I’ll be two minutes.” I dashed into my bedroom. “Stay there.”

  I pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper then raced back into the living room. Xander was just at the door.

  “I’m coming.” I grabbed my handbag and slipped on my ankle boots that stood near the door.

  “Are you sure it’s wise?”

  “No, not really, but you need me.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Xander Patrick

  “I’m parked across the road.” She jogged beside me as I speed marched to the car.

  “What do you think has happened?” she asked once we’d maneuvered into the madness of the city traffic.

  “I don’t know, really. Who would steal a lamb and leave the mother?”

  “Maybe Harriet was too much for the thief, I bet she gave ’em what for.” India was doing her best to reassure me, I could hear it in her tone.

  “She is very protective, she’s given me a kicking for getting too friendly with Grace, so maybe you’ve got a point there.”

  “Any idea who’s taken her?”

  “No, not really. I mean, we’ve had some trouble with the shop lately, but I don’t think it will have been one of the staff. It couldn’t be, could it?” The idea seemed so wrong. The staff were virtually part of my family.

  “I wouldn’t think so. By and large I liked the staff, and those I wasn’t so keen on still seemed devoted to the Hall. Has someone got it in for you, personally?”

  “God, no. I’m too poor to have a nemesis!” I scoffed.

  “It doesn’t seem to make sense.”

  “Not really. I mean, Grace is worth a lot of money but there are so few Castlemilk Moorit in the country, keeping her for the wool wouldn’t make sense, she’d be found eventually. Rare breeds have to be registered.”

  It was good to have India with me. But raw emotions from the earlier encounter lingered and I could feel an atmosphere around us I just didn’t like. The situation with Grace was stressful enough without me feeling like I had to tiptoe around India too.

  “We probably should just discuss this at some other time but I want you to know that whatever you confess, I’m sure it won’t change my feelings for you.”

  “You have feelings for me?” she asked, an upward lift of doubt raising her tone.

  “Of course I do, why else would I turn up on your doorstep like that? I’ve not been able to get you out of my head.”

  “Xander, can we just put the whole thing on hold for now? Pretend
I didn’t say anything at all.” She sighed.

  “If you can do that, I can do that.” Or at least I could try.

  “I’ll tell you everything soon but I can’t deal with that and help you save Grace. And I really want to save Grace. I love that gangly little bundle of fleece.”

  “Okay by me, India.” I knew my reply was clipped but it hurt to hear her so easily confess her love for that lamb, the lamb I loved too, when I hadn’t heard a word about love for me. I knew I loved India Grace, I just wished I knew it was reciprocated.

  “Good.”

  We kept the topic of conversation light as we continued. The issue wasn’t quite forgotten but it was pushed to the back of the queue, and though I was fully aware that we’d have to address it at some point, I was equally happy not to know.

  * * * *

  When we arrived at the hall, Mary, Jenny and Harry were waiting in the driveway for us and they all started talking at once.

  I held up my hand.

  “Let’s get to the barn. On the way you can take turns to fill us in. Mary first.”

  “Well, nothing new to report, we still can’t find her. We’ve had everyone looking for her but we are very sure she’s not here at the manor anymore.”

  “Harry, anything to add?”

  “Not really, boss. Just that I checked on the both of ’em around lunchtime and they were fine. I didn’t see anything unusual. So it must have been after lunch that she got nicked.”

  “Thanks, Harry.” I smiled at him. The poor guy looked really nervous, but then as one of the new guys he probably thought we’d all blame him or Jenny first.

  “And, Jenny, anything you need to say?”

  “Well, no, not really, I was wondering what India’s doing here?”

  Now that was something I’d not thought about when galloping back. Explaining that one.