by Chloe Gillis
The young men laughed. Clarissa laughed and spread her legs. “Why not!” she said gamely. “Have a try!”
Both on their knees, each man hoisted one of Clarissa’s legs. Clarissa felt herself being stretched as the two cocks were pushed together into her cunt.
At last Andrew collapsed in laughter. “Stand back, old chap,” he said to William. “I’ve not had my turn yet. Clarissa, prepare to be fucked once again!”
Clarissa smiled up at him. Andrew took both her legs and bent them up over her shoulders, ramming his cock home as he did so. He fucked her with a passion that brought the heat of another climax washing over her again, pumping in and out until he fell over her with a groan.
When they opened their eyes a minute later, William was smiling down at them, already dressed in his pajamas.
“Damned fine lesson!” he said. “I can’t thank you enough! I am a new man. I am! Damn good sports, the two of you! Capital friends! Capital friends! Well, see you tomorrow!” He gave them a wink and left the room.
The wedding was a lovely affair. The bride was exquisite in white lace that clung to her lithesome figure, and flared out into a delicate train behind her. The groom smiled ear-to-ear throughout the entire ceremony and garden party afterward. Clarissa’s heart swelled with happiness for them, and not a little pride in herself, knowing that, all things considered, she had given them the best gift of all.
Part Four
Clarissa Sees Things Clearly
CLARISSA STOOD AT THE WINDOW of her bedroom in Lord and Lady Handcock’s vast, well-appointed English country house. The wedding had been a jolly affair, but that had been over two weeks ago. Annabelle and William had departed for their month-long honeymoon touring the continent, no doubt enjoying themselves (and each other) immensely. Worse yet, Clarissa’s special friend, Andrew Milton, had abandoned her, catching his scheduled steamer to pursue archeological studies in Egypt. Clarissa was alone in a cavernous home with two old people and a stream of elderly visitors. And to top it all off, the weather had been rainy for nearly a week!
To fight the boredom, Clarissa wrote. She wrote bawdy, funny letters to Bonnie and Eleanora. She wrote long, descriptive letters to her mother and father. She also kept a journal and recorded her daily activities and observations for later scrutiny.
Clarissa turned away from the window to dress. Why were the visitors always so old and dull? One would think the Handcocks, with all their connections, would know some young people. Clarissa hugged her long cashmere cardigan around herself and went down to breakfast.
“Clarissa, dear! Good morning!” Lady Handcock greeted her warmly.
“Good morning, my dear,” said Lord Handcock. “Please be seated.” He stood and, as there was no other man in the room, pulled the chair out for her himself. Clarissa sat and at that moment, Tina, the kitchen maid, came out with teapot in one hand and coffee pot in the other.
“Coffee or tea, miss?”
“Oh, coffee, please,” answered Clarissa. Tina duly filled her cup with the steaming black liquid. Clarissa helped herself to the cream from the dainty little pitcher on the table at her place.
“My!” exclaimed Lady Edith. “Aren’t we the lonely little family this morning!”
Clarissa raised her cup to her lips in order to avoid making a reply. Lord Terrence chuckled through his mustache, as if he knew a secret.
Lady Edith went on. “Clarissa, dear, I have a confession to make.” Clarissa looked at her quizzically. Lady Edith continued, “Clarissa, dear, I was in the library and there were some papers on the library table. I thought perhaps Lord Terrance had left them, so I gathered them up. As I was doing so, I noticed it was not his hand. I stopped and read some of what was on the pages.”
Clarissa gave a little gasp. “Oh, Lady Edith! I am so sorry! It must have been the letter that I was writing to my mother! I am so sorry to have abandoned it. Something caught my attention, and I left the room and forgot to come back for my papers!”
Lady Edith gave a little laugh. “No, my dear. No apology is necessary! The fact is, I was so caught up in your letter, I read through it. It was a description of Annabelle’s wedding, and it was wonderful! Why, I felt as though I was reliving it! It was so captivating! You are truly talented. I am very impressed. And I do apologize to you for reading a personal epistle.”
“Certainly, it was I who was amiss by being so careless in your home,” replied Clarissa. “However, I am so glad you liked my description of the wedding. I enjoyed writing it.”
Lord Terrence set down his fork and dabbed at his mustache with his napkin. “My dear, Lady Edith and I would like to ask your permission to send this report of Annabelle’s wedding to the Times and the Tribune. We would keep it anonymous, of course, to protect your identity amongst your peers, but your writing is superior. Truly superior.”
Clarissa blinked. “Lord Terrence, I am, of course, flattered that you both think so much of my little report, but wasn’t there a detailed description of the affair already published in the Times?”
“There was indeed,” spoke up Lady Edith. “It was a dry, dull, positively common report. It made no mention of the bride’s attendants, no mention of the groom’s heritage. There was no description of our wonderful home. It was a special event. An important event. Important people were here. The Duke and Duchess of Cornwall were here! I was terribly disappointed. And they were supposed to forward the article on to the Tribune so that our American friends and peers here and abroad might read of it, also. No mention, no mention at all, in the Tribune!”
“My dear, do not upset yourself. If Clarissa will agree to it, I have a plan,” said Lord Terrence, patting his wife’s hand soothingly. “Follow me, ladies, into the library.”
When they had settled themselves in the library, Lord Terrence explained. “Today we are expecting the arrival of our dear friends, Sir Anderson and Lady Anne Tallman. They are also bringing with them their younger son Bruce, and Bruce’s old school chum Chauncey Chelmsford. They are about your age, Clarissa, and both very eligible! However, before you get excited, there is more. Chauncey Chelmsford is the social editor of the Tribune! Yes! I think with a little diplomatic maneuvering, we will get our just desserts in the Tribune and a repeat mention of worth in the Times!”
Lady Edith clapped her hands together.
Clarissa exclaimed, “I certainly would agree to that, Lord Terrence.” It seemed so important to him and to Lady Edith that Clarissa spoke with added enthusiasm. However, it was not the actual publication of her report that made Clarissa’s heart leap. It was the fact that not one, but two young men were coming to visit. At last, some fun!
At two-thirty that afternoon, Lord Terrence sent the car to the train to collect the guests. They arrived an hour later. Lady Edith and Clarissa greeted them all in the wide front foyer, and the staff escorted them to their bedrooms in the guest wing. Soon the whole party was assembled in the large reception room, and Basil, the butler, served cocktails. Clarissa and the Ladies Edith and Anne sipped French 75s, while the men savored Gin Rickeys. The kitchen sent out some delicate hors d’oeuvres which they nibbled hungrily.
Clarissa sized up the young men as she chatted merrily to them. Bruce, the younger son of Sir Anderson and Lady Anne, was very good-looking with thick, wavy, dark brown hair and large brown eyes. He was quite tall and well-built, and he had a ready, infectious laugh. Chauncey Chelmsford was a smaller man, closer to thirty than either she or Bruce. His hair was too pale and thin and his nose too pointy to be good-looking, but there was a kind intelligence in his blue eyes that made Clarissa warm to him. He had a smart, dry humor about him that made her recall the writings of Oscar Wilde and George Bernard Shaw from her school days. She was thoroughly enjoying herself and although she admired Chauncey very much, she set her sights on Bruce. It shouldn’t be difficult, she reasoned. He was so easy to talk to and kept touching her arm in a familiar and affectionate way.
“I wish the weather would clear,” sighed Cla
rissa. She and Bruce were standing in front of the big window. Chauncey had gone in search of more cocktails. “If only it would stop raining, we could take a ride out to see the old walled garden. It’s very romantic! You do ride, don’t you?”
“Of course. Rather well, I should say. Both Chauncey and I belong to the West Kent Hunt, you see.”
“Do you keep a horse, then?”
“I do, yes. Chauncey’s family has a country home there. His father is Master of Hounds. I keep my hunter there. Being in London in the banking business is such a drag! I mean, it can make a bloke downright grumpy!”
“And that’s why we try to visit the countryside as often as possible,” chimed in Chauncey, coming up behind them. He held three drinks and extended his hands toward Clarissa.
“Thank you so much, Chauncey,” she said, taking her French 75, that delicious concoction of champagne, lemonade, and gin.
Chauncey handed Bruce his Gin Rickey, and both men raised their glasses to Clarissa.
“A toast,” offered Bruce jovially. “A toast to our new friend Clarissa, and a capital time in the countryside!”
“Here! Here!” said Chauncey.
Clarissa smiled and managed an attractive flush of her cheeks.
By next morning, the skies had cleared. It was a beautiful, warm day, and the world was dew washed and just waiting to hand Clarissa her next adventure on a silver platter. She dressed eagerly in her riding clothes. She knew she looked absolutely fetching in her gabardine jodhpurs, white linen shirt, and shiny black field boots. She would draw Bruce out for a ride alone together after breakfast. Yet, there was still the problem of what to do with Chauncey. Clarissa consciously cleared the scowl from her forehead as she entered the breakfast room just ahead of Bruce.
Her problem took care of itself. Clarissa, having seated herself at Lady Edith’s right, made up her mind to ask both boys to join her. It was the only way, after all, to start her plan. She dabbed at her lips with her napkin and spoke up.
“I say, would you two gentlemen like a tour of the estate on horseback this morning?” she said. “I know that you would love to see the walled garden, and I am absolutely desperate to get outside and astride a horse! Please, humor me!”
“Capital idea, Clarissa!” Bruce answered immediately. “I should very much like a hack around the old farmstead on this gorgeous morning! That is, if Lord Terrence has a quiet old nag he’d lend me.”
Lord Terrence laughed. “We have a stable of eight top-notch hunters. Tommy, down in the barn, will help you. Thanks for playing the hostess, Clarissa. You are becoming almost another daughter!”
Lady Anne giggled. “Clarissa, how lovely of you! I must warn you, they are two of the most eligible bachelors in London! You will be hard put to it to choose.”
The company around the table laughed heartily.
“Well, you shall have to do without old Chauncey,” said Chauncey nonchalantly. “Lord Terrence and I have some business to attend to.” He looked at Clarissa and smiled. “Some of it has directly to do with Clarissa. Lord Terrence has promised to show me some social observations you have written down. That is, if you don’t mind.”
“Why, thank you, Chauncey! I don’t mind a bit!” said Clarissa, secretly thrilled that she would at last be alone with Bruce.
The breakfast group disbanded. Clarissa waited impatiently while Bruce ran up to his bedroom to change into riding clothes. He looked elegantly heart stopping as he descended the stairs dressed in boots and jodhpurs, a white shirt, and tweed hacking jacket. Together, they strolled down to the stables.
They had a wonderful ride. Bruce was so complimentary.
“I say, Clarissa, you are quite the equestrienne! You’re a capital girl all round. You really are! Why, you should see what I have to put up with in London! All manner of girls who prey upon me!”
“Prey upon you! Whatever do you mean?”
“Well, they hear who I am. The son of Sir Anderson Tallman, wealthy war hero and appointed peer of Parliament. Nice place in London. Nice place in the countryside. They’re all over me! Sharking about.” He hung his head dejectedly. “Makes things very awkward.” He raised his eyes to Clarissa’s. “Nobody wants to be just friends!”
Clarissa processed this bit of information. She did not exactly want to be “just friends,” either, but she was careful with her words. There was more to this story than had been revealed. Perhaps his heart had been broken. She would tread lightly.
“Well, that seems very impolite to me,” she said.
“I know! Then, they seem so disappointed when I tell them I’m the younger son, you see. Everything goes to my brother, of course. Well, I do have my inheritance, but I need my career, too. Why, everybody has told me to watch out for the American girls, but I find you especially straightforward and delightful to be around! Come, let’s have a canter! Then you can tell me about your life in America. I hope to visit there one day!”
He leaned forward in the saddle, and the tall bay leaped eagerly forward. Clarissa squeezed Pimpernel with her thighs, and they galloped together up the lane.
They returned to the house just in time for the midday meal. Basil met them at the door, saying, “Go right into the dining room, please. They are all there. Tina will serve you directly.”
Clarissa peeled off her soft leather riding gloves and stuck them into the waistband of her breeches. Bruce took her lightly by the elbow and escorted her into the dining room. Clarissa thought this was a good sign. Rather of a show of one’s territory. It would be interesting to see how Chauncey would react.
“Ah, there you are, you two!” Lord Terrence boomed from the end of the table. “Take your seats! Tina, luncheon for the just arrived, please!”
Clarissa took a place at Lord Terrence’s right and across from Lady Anne. “I say, did you have a grand gallop?” he asked.
“We did,” replied Clarissa. “We did indeed.”
“Mr. Chelmsford and I had quite the discussion about you, young lady.”
“Really!” exclaimed Clarissa. “Do tell!” She looked right at Chauncey.
Chauncey smiled at her. “I have read your little article on Annabelle’s wedding, Clarissa. It is uniquely charming, I must say! I would like your permission to publish it in the social pages of the Tribune. It will set the Times back some, I wager.”
“Oh, indeed!” gasped Clarissa. “Surely it can’t be that good! Why, I was only documenting it for Mommy, who was so sad as to have been unable to attend. I wanted her to be able to picture it in her mind.”
“You did an excellent job of that!” continued Chauncey. “I am the editor of the social pages of the Tribune. We take on all the births, deaths, weddings, appointments, food, drink, music, and any other social trends that loom on the horizon. I am always desperate for talent! So it’s a go? I can publish it?”
“Of course,” said Clarissa. “I am truly humbled. Thank you very much.”
Lady Anne Tallman suddenly spoke up eagerly. “And the other thing, Chauncey. Ask her about the other thing.”
Chauncey eyed Lady Anne as a loving parent eyes a mischievous child. “Well, I suppose now is as good a time as any.”
“Ask me what?” questioned Clarissa curiously.
Chauncey cleared his throat and said, “I know you are planning to return to America in the near future. Just after Annabelle and William return from their honeymoon, I believe. Well, I was wondering whether you might not reconsider. Whether you might consider a move to London instead. At least for a while. To write for the Tribune on different social issues and different assignments. Be a reporter for a bit, you see. What do you think?”
Clarissa was speechless. All the eyes at the table were on her. This was more than she could possibly have hoped for! Another adventure! London! Perhaps the Continent! And Bruce lived in London! She smiled broadly at Chauncey, her eyes dewy with giddy anticipation. “Oh yes, Chauncey! Why not! What fun!”
“Capital!” shouted Bruce and began to clap. “H
ere! Here!”
“Where should I stay?” asked Clarissa, looking at Chauncey. “I don’t know anybody in London.”
“You may stay with me. I have a whole house in Kensington where I positively rattle around, so there is plenty of room for you.”
Lady Anne spoke up again, this time more seriously. “Oh, dear, Chauncey. Oh, dear! I do not think that would be at all proper, even in this extremely confusing age. We shall have to find her another place.”
Chauncey looked taken aback for an instant, and then Bruce piped up. “I have it! Yes, I do! I shall stay with Chauncey, and Clarissa can move into my flat in Mayfair! I have the Duttons. Mrs. Dutton is my housekeeper and Mr. Dutton, the manservant, so Clarissa won’t be alone or unchaperoned! What do you say, Chauncey, old chap?”
Clarissa looked from one man to the other. Something passed between them. Something she couldn’t identify off the bat. She would have to think about it.
Chauncey smiled. “Capital! Positively brilliant, old man! What do you say, Clarissa? Bruce’s flat isn’t too far away from my house, so we should be close. What do you say?”
Clarissa grinned. “Why not!”
Over the next few days, Chauncey, Clarissa, and Bruce planned the details of Clarissa’s new career (however temporary, she told them) as a journalist. She was not sure Daddy would go for the idea of her actually working for money, but he would just have to adapt to the modern times! She would go with them to London on Monday next, ensconce herself in Bruce’s flat, get to know the neighborhood, and report for her first assignment on the Monday after that.
On Sunday night, the night before they were to depart for London, Clarissa lay in her bed, tossing and turning. Things had not progressed with Bruce the way she had planned. They had ridden together, played tennis together, even walked hand-in-hand together. He seemed quite fond of her, kissing her cheek when they parted, confiding in her about his career and his passion for painting. However, he always stopped just short, thought Clarissa, remembering Andrew in the hayloft. Andrew had needed no special encouragement! What was she doing wrong? Then it struck her. Chauncey must be in love with her, too! Yes, that had to be what was holding Bruce back! Chauncey must have confided his feelings for her to Bruce, unaware that Bruce was also in love with her. Of course, Bruce would never cut in on his best friend’s love interest.