Good Manors

by Victoria Blisse

  I didn’t think, I felt. I felt her soft skin, the kiss of her eyelashes against my cheek, the wash of her tears splashing down on my chest as I held her so tightly. We rolled around on the bed, her curves surrounding me, pulling me in. She was so soft and giving. I felt alive again being with her.

  We went together so well. Our movements mirrored each other. She read my desire and I realized hers—they were one and the same. I drowned my sorrows with the juices of her pussy. I drank and sucked and licked her to a screaming orgasm, and only then did I kneel between her thighs. She pulled me close to her, dug her nails into my back as I fucked her. It wasn’t pretty, soft or sweet. I just sated my urge, I needed her so much.

  In the aftermath, we lay together panting, snuggled close.

  We didn’t speak and eventually India fell asleep. I cuddled her to me and looked up at the ceiling.

  It was then that doubts that I’d held back in the rush of emotion raised their heads. Could I forgive her? I thought I already had. I’d mourned my father’s passing years ago. I was over that. I accepted that she’d made a mistake. It concerned me that she’d kept it quiet all that time, hadn’t told me. What else could she be hiding?

  Yeah, Mum had saved her life, but she’d hated journalists all her life long. Would she really approve of me and India if she were still around? My heart throbbed. I missed that woman every day. She had always helped me work out what to do.

  I tried to allay my fears and think about life going forward. Surely it would be so much better with India by my side. But what would happen if the tabloids got a hold of the story? India Grace, the photographer who sent Lord Mallard into an unstoppable death spiral, and his son shacked up together. They would have a field day. What if that impacted Mallard’s? People might not come. They were weird like that. One whiff of scandal and the place would be derelict.

  It was lucky that we’d managed to keep the shop debacle under wraps, really. There was a little bit in the local rag about the lambnapping but for legal reasons they’d not been able to name Gerald in it anyway.

  But this, this would affect the Hall. What if people thought India’s positive review was just about appeasing her guilt or trying to get into bed with me? I’d be tarnished with the same reputation my dad had, and that had ruined Mallard’s. I couldn’t do something that would repeat that.

  Mum gave her life to see it thrive.

  So within half an hour I’d gone from not caring and wanting India in my life forever to the complete opposite. It would be difficult to live without her but I was certain it was the best thing to do for the long-term success of Mallard’s. And Mallard’s was my life. I could live with being miserable for a while if it meant Mallard’s would be a success.

  I pulled away from India’s naked form, covered her with a blanket and left her sleeping. I pulled on my discarded T-shirt and underpants then sat down on the chair in the corner. I grabbed a notebook and scribbled down a note for India.

  India,

  I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I thought I could but I can’t. I have forgiven you for what you did to Dad but I’m struggling to forget how long you lied to me. I’m not sure we should really be together. I think it would be bad for us and for Mallard’s.

  I know I got your hopes up only to dash them. I appreciate you coming here to tell me your side of the story and I do think that it is beautiful that my mum saved your life. And that you, in turn, saved Grace and Harriet and the business. I think we’re even.

  Please don’t try to find me once you read this. I’m not strong enough to resist your beauty. I’m weak and stupid and I don’t want to hurt you again. You have an amazing career ahead of you. Go, enjoy, live life.

  Xander

  I pondered for ages how to sign off and in the end I chickened out, just signing my name with no kind of ‘love’ or ‘yours sincerely’ or anything like that.

  I left the note on top of India’s clothes, looked longingly at her peaceful form then tiptoed out. A little way up the corridor, I bumped into Mary.

  “Oh, India was here, looking for you. Did she find you?”

  “Yes, Mary.” I smiled.

  “Oh good, good.” She wanted more. I could see it written all over her face. I loved Mary to bits but she was an awful gossip so I wasn’t going to say another word.

  “I have heard great things about Harry.” Mary obviously realized I wasn’t going to play ball and had moved on to the next item of her agenda. “There have been some really positive feedback forms left too. Apparently he’s a great tour guide.”

  “Who’d have thought?” I laughed. Harry was a quiet guy but apparently talking about Mallard’s history brought him out of his shell.

  “I know. Crazy, isn’t it? We put an ad in the local paper for a new gardener. We’ve promoted Mark to head gardener, remember, but he needs an assistant.”

  “Good, let me know when we’re looking to hold interviews.”

  “Sure, will do.” She nodded, looked me up and down then sighed. “Xander, I can read you like a well-thumbed woman’s magazine in a doctor’s office. What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing,” I protested, a little high-pitched to be completely convincing.

  “Well, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, I guess.” She humphed and shrugged. “But don’t hold it in forever. It’s not healthy and it makes you a right grumpy sod.”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “I promise I won’t be grumpy, Mary. Thanks.”

  “I suppose that’ll have to do for now. Okay then, boss. See you round.”

  I went back to the library, gathered my tools then hid them away in the secret passage for later. It was time to go check on my sheep. Grace was less lamb and more like her mum, and both were due for shearing. Their wool would earn me a pretty penny. They would also be the first animals in my rare breeds stable. I was going to develop an area of the farm for visitors to come and meet and pet the animals, breeds close to passing into obscurity.

  That and the library were my next expansion plans and I was sure both would work wonders for Mallard’s, even if they ran me into the ground first.

  When I finally walked back to the Hall, India’s car was gone. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or upset that she’d gone without even trying to change my mind. When I reached my room, there was a note left on the bed for me.

  Xander,

  I’m sorry. I should never have come. Least now I know I could never have replaced the bricks and mortar you live in at the center of your heart. I thought I’d fallen in love with you. Now I know that it was just a mirage. I wish you and Mallard’s all the best.

  India

  I sat on my bed and stared at the wall.

  What a mess, what a stupid mess. I shouldn’t have let her get to me in the first place.

  From that moment on I tried to push India from my mind, but it didn’t work. She haunted me, every day and every night. Everywhere I went in the Hall she followed me. As I oversaw the renovation of the library I saw her, when I purchased animals I thought of her veterinary skills. When I was in bed I remembered rolling around it with her. Even when I slept I saw her, flogged her, spanked her arse. She followed me day and night and drove me insane.

  In the end I decided the only way to escape was to put the Hall on the market and move. I had to escape the memory of her. I loved Mallard Hall, it had been my life’s work, but every inch of the place reminded me of her and it drove me to distraction. I made a list of ways to eradicate her memory and there ended up being two options. Knock the manor down and rebuild it or leave. No amount of new wallpaper or different furniture would stop me remembering the good times we’d had together. A new start, a new life in a completely different place was the only way to deal with it and keep Mallard’s intact. I had my eye on a run-down mansion in Scotland. A little place I could do up and run like an upmarket B&B. Maybe there I could become a new man. A man not held down by memories and the past.

  Chapter Twenty-Three />
  India Grace

  “Hey, India,” Brendan said, “have you seen that Mallard’s is up for sale?”

  “Is it?” I asked. “Really?”

  “Yeah, they sent the specs over for me to include in the real estate listings this month.”

  “No, I don’t believe it. Xander was totally dedicated to that place.”

  Brendan shrugged. “Well, the listing will be in the magazine. Check it out if you don’t believe me.”

  My mind raced. Why would Xander put the Hall on the market?

  When I got home, I looked it up online and sure enough I found several mentions of his listing. Including a newly renovated library and a rare breeds farm for visitors, Mallard’s was still a successful, going concern. So why on earth was Xander selling up?

  It irked me—I didn’t sleep well and the next day I couldn’t settle to writing. It was wrong. Mallard Hall should belong to a Mallard. Should belong to Xander. Not anyone else. What had happened to make him sell?

  I’d worked really hard to eliminate the man from my life. I’d built up a lot of hate for him over the months since we’d last seen each other but I just couldn’t shake the wrongness of this piece of news. In the end I jumped into my car and pointed it toward Mallard’s.

  I still didn’t know what I thought I could do. He’d made it quite clear that my opinion didn’t matter to him, that I didn’t matter to him full stop. I couldn’t let him do it. Whatever his motivation was, it had to be wrong. He’d put so much into Mallard’s, it would be a travesty to let him leave.

  When I arrived it was late in the day, the shop was shut and the main entrance barred. I went round the back and rang the bell.

  “God, India, what are you doing here?” Jenny answered the door and threw her arms around me.

  “I’ve come to see Xander.”

  “Yeah, of course. He’s in the office. I think he’s had an offer on the place. Some Arabian chap looked round it today.”

  “Jenny, I can’t believe he’s selling.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But he’s insisting they take on the existing staff when they buy. That’s something I guess.”

  I didn’t want to take away her comfort blanket but an agreement like that needed to be on paper to mean anything, and even then once any stated term was up they’d be out on their arses.

  “I can find my way to the office from here—you get back to what you were doing.”

  “Okay, will do. Oh, it’s nice to see you. Make sure you call in on Mary before you go.”

  “I will do,” I shouted after her then resumed the walk to the office. Outside, I took a deep breath then knocked on the door.

  “Come in!” he yelled.

  His voice made my stomach flip over and over again like a clockwork dog.

  “What do you want, Mary? I’m really very busy. I need to get this contract sorted.”

  “Hi, Xander.”

  He looked up and the full glare of his piercing eyes rested on me. “India?” He gasped. “What are you doing here?”

  “I saw that Mallard’s was on the market,” I replied. He was wearing his black suit, a lightly pinstriped blue shirt beneath it, opened so I could see glimpses of his chest hair.

  “Yeah, looks like I’ve got a buyer.”

  “Why?” I asked. “That’s why I’m here. It doesn’t make sense to me.” I stopped beside his desk and waited for his answer.

  “It’s not really any of your business.” He bristled.

  “No, you’re right, it isn’t. But—stupidly it seems—I thought you might be in trouble of some sort. I wanted to help.”

  “No trouble, it’s time I left.”

  “But why, Xander, why? You gave up on me for this place. Now you’re leaving Mallard’s. Is that how little you thought of me?”

  “How can you ask that?” he growled. “Were you really that blind?”

  “Did you see the note you left me? I’ve read it every day since. Every fucking day, and I see the indifference in your words. I thought I meant something to you. I broke my heart over you, Xander. Then you offered me a glimpse of hope only to break it all over again. Do you hate me that much?” My voice caught and I gulped back threatening tears.

  “No,” Xander snapped, pushing back his chair and standing. “No, it’s because I loved you far too much, India. I can see you in every little last bit of this place. There isn’t a room I can go to where I don’t think of you and what I lost, okay? So that’s why I’m going. Trying to find some peace. From you.”

  “Me?” I shook my head. “I thought you didn’t feel anything for me. I thought you used me.”

  “No.” He sighed. “No, I loved you, India.”

  “Then why did you push me away?” What was he saying? I couldn’t work it out. Everything I thought was truth seemed to be crumbling around me.

  “I was scared. Scared that the media would get a hold of the story and it’d ruin Mallard’s.”

  “Story, what story?”

  “Me and you. You being the ruin of my father. Maybe they’d see your article as a way of appeasing your guilt, not truth,” Xander shouted.

  “And who bloody cares? Not the people who visit here anyway. You sent me that nasty fucking letter because you just blew things out of proportion?” I growled, hate and disbelief raging inside.

  “I wanted a future with you, India. I couldn’t see it working. It hurt, so I pushed you away.”

  “Xander.” I cupped his chin in my hand. “I loved you so much. I’d have done anything for you if you’d asked. Including leaving. Which I did. I turned my love to hate. I’ve actively despised you for months. Now you’re going to sacrifice your legacy, the love of your life because of me. I can’t let you do that.”

  “India.” He rested his large hand over mine. “Oh, India. I know it sounds stupid but your memory is driving me wild. I loved you too and every step I take in this house reminds me of you. I don’t want to live here without you.”

  “Xander,” I whispered, barely believing what I was about to say. “What if we try to love again?”

  He shook his head, his hands vibrated, his toes tapped. He looked to be fighting with himself. He exhaled but before he could say a word I jumped in.

  “Hear me out. I’ve hated you but only because I loved you. Yeah, there might be a bit of media backlash to us getting together, if someone can be arsed digging to find out that link to our past. But what does it really matter? They don’t say no publicity is bad publicity for no reason, you know.” It was strange. The hate melted so quickly, it was like it was just a coating, protecting the love inside until I could use it again.

  “Do you think?” he asked. “It can’t be that simple, can it?”

  I looked him straight in the eye, confronted the stare that had haunted my dreams.

  “Yes, I do,” I said. “Don’t leave Mallard’s, Xander. Don’t leave me.”

  “India.” He gasped and pulled me into his embrace, pressing his lips to mine.

  I could feel his heart pounding, echoing my own, the heat of his body, the familiar feel of his arms around me. Oh, I’d missed it so much. All through the journey to Mallard’s I’d been denying to myself the true reason I had gone. It wasn’t about Mallard’s at all. It was about me and him. I couldn’t let him go.

  “I don’t want to go,” Xander said when we parted to breathe. “I never wanted to go. I wanted you, India, and I was so stupid.”

  “Shh.” I pressed my finger to his lips. “That’s the past now, let’s forget it. This moment is what matters. Are you going to stay at Mallard’s?”

  He looked at me and nodded. I moved my finger so he could speak.

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Good.” I smiled.

  “Now I need to ask you a question.” His arms were still round me and we were pressed so closely together I could feel he was aroused. “Will you stay here with me?”

  “Stay here?” I questioned. “I’d love to, but I don’t know if it could work.”


  “You don’t work from an office, do you?” Xander asked.

  “No, I’m kinda independent. Only go in for weekly team meetings, really.”

  “Well, a once a week trip into the city isn’t hard to do.”

  “But we’d be together, you know, all the time.” I didn’t want us fighting again.

  “Not when you’re doing your work. It’ll only be the between times.”

  He was making it really hard to say no and I realized after a while that I didn’t want to.

  “Okay then, I’ll stay with you, Xander. I’ll have to work it out with work and stuff but yes, I will.”

  “Good,” he replied. “Now, India, one last question.”

  “Yes?”

  “Can I fuck you?”

  I gasped in fake affront.

  “What a question to ask a lady!”

  He nuzzled my neck again, kissed the dip by my collarbone and made me moan. “Please?” he purred, the vibration making my skin tingle.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

  He grabbed me and pushed me back onto his desk until I was sitting, thighs spread around him, feet dangling a few inches off the ground. He stepped back.

  “Stay there.” He smiled, threw off his jacket and walked away from me.

  A few moments later I heard the lock on the door click and a little after that he was back, bare chested. “Now, let’s even this up.”

  He lifted my bright green T-shirt at the front and pulled it up and over my head. Next he released the clasp of my bra and brought us close until our warm chests rubbed together and I couldn’t help moaning.

  He ran his strong hands down my back, making me shiver, then skimmed them round the top of my jeans. Xander pressed his lips to mine as he undid the button and zip. I lifted up so he could drag the jeans away from me and he efficiently removed my knickers at the same time, stroking them down my legs and pulling them off my feet with my shoes.