The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice

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The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice Page 16

by Colette Saucier


  Mother told me Tony would not take her calls either. He would only speak to Annette. He wanted nothing to do with his mother after finding out his parentage.

  “Annette won’t tell him the truth, that you aren’t related,” Mother said. “When she found out about the two of you…I think it made her resent you because you had gotten closer to Tony than she ever had. She is angry and bitter and full of hate for both you and me.”

  With twenty bedrooms, sleeping arrangements were not a problem, until the second night. I knew what Robert expected from me, and I had made him wait over a year and across an ocean. I had no reason to save myself for Tony anymore.

  The servants had been dismissed early so we could have a romantic evening alone. After dinner, we sat on a sofa in the parlor drinking cognac. When we set our glasses down, we moved closer together, put our arms around each other, and started kissing. As Robert kissed and fondled my breasts, I recalled those nights in the back of Ben’s car. Then my memory traced to that night when Ben had come to my bedroom, and Tony had burst in on us.

  I could feel the beginnings of tears in my eyes. To block out the past, I started kissing Robert’s neck. I took his face in my hands and looked into his eyes and said softly, “Love me.”

  He gently took my hands from his face and held them. “Come with me.” He stood and pulled me up.

  Robert led me to double doors, which he opened to reveal an enormous bedroom – larger than Mother’s party room – and a bed to match. The room and the furniture were amazing, and he saw me caught up in their opulence.

  “Every time a ruling body got new furniture, we got the old.” He smiled and proceeded to the bed as I remained in the doorway.

  “This was a baron’s room a few hundred years ago.” He lay across the bed horizontally, his feet still on the floor, and looked up at the painted ceiling and then at me. “This is the most fantastic bedroom in the entire house, and never once have I slept here. I have never so much as sat on this bed before.”

  He sat up and extended his arm out to me. I walked over and got up on the bed beside him, pulling my feet under me.

  “They say that he was a very good baron but a very poor gentleman.” I lay back with my arms over my head, and he reclined on his side, head on his hand, looking down at me. “According to the legend, he courted a beautiful contessa in hopes of winning her legacy, but she hated him with a passion because she could see right through him.” He took my hand and rubbed it against his cheeks and lips. “But to resume friendly relations between their two families, she accepted his invitations to dinner.” He started kissing my hand and fingers between words. “On one such occasion he drugged her wine and then led her to this bed and made love to her so she would be forced to marry him, which she did; but she refused to lie with him ever again, so he never had a legitimate heir. His plan backfired, for he fell in love with another woman but couldn’t have her because of his wife. He had sacrificed the chance of love for wealth before he realized the great price he was paying.”

  We were silent a moment, both reflecting on the tale. “How sad,” I said.

  Robert reached behind him and turned off a lamp, leaving only the light from candles burning all around the room. He had planned this, I thought, but I was glad he had.

  “And you’ve never made love before?” I shook my head. “Then let me make love to you.”

  He kissed me, his body to the side but his lips over mine. Then he pulled me up and slowly undressed me as we continued to kiss. I reclined vertically, naked before him, and he gently moved his fingers from the hollow at the base of my neck to my navel and then back again, and he traced that same path with tender kisses. He unbuttoned and removed his shirt, and he finished undressing as I got between the sheets. I closed my eyes until I felt his warm body beside me.

  He squeezed me in his arms then loosened his grip enough to kiss me ardently. I held onto him as we kissed and arched my neck as he nibbled at it, savoring the pleasure. He stopped a moment, and I realized he was sheathing himself. When he turned back to me, slowly his hand traced my frame then grasped behind my knee as he moved on top of me. Without a word, he plunged inside of me.

  With the pressure came pain, seeping into the walls of my inner self. The pressure continued to build as he moved until I reached the point where I thought I would burst. With this came the pang of memories, and I began to cry from the deep hurt of both.

  Finally he stopped, but I still clung to him. “It’s all right now, darling, it’s over now.”

  No, it’s not, I screamed in my head. It would never end. My love for Tony would always rule me. I knew he should have been my first. He should have been my only.

  I regained my composure and looked into Robert’s frantic face. “I’m all right now,” I lied, echoing his words.

  Relief replaced the worry on his countenance. “Thank God. I’ve never been with a virgin before. I promise, next time it will be better for you.”

  We snuggled together, and I rested my head on his chest as he ran his hand down my hair. He told me again and again how much he loved me, how happy he was that he finally had me with him. I began stroking his chest and running my fingers over each contour of his body. I kissed his chest and neck and whispered, “Make love to me again.” He looked at me confused. “You said it would be better next time.”

  He smiled, then he chuckled and rolled on top of me. I could never be with my true love, but this was the closest I had ever felt to anyone.

  *****

  Alice knocked on Giselle’s dressing room door. “It’s Alice. Can I come in?” After a lengthy pause, Giselle granted her permission to enter, and Alice closed the door behind her. Giselle sat at a dressing table facing the mirror, and Alice tried to catch her eye in the reflection.

  “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Giselle said with a world-weariness Alice never would have expected from her.

  “We haven’t done anything together since the Olympics. Why don’t you have dinner with Eileen and me tonight?”

  “I already have plans with Rich.”

  “Of course. Rich.”

  Giselle finally lifted her face and met Alice’s eyes in the mirror. “Yes, Rich. He and I are together now, and you need to get used to it.”

  “I just don’t think he’s good for you. You’ve been late for tapings several times now, you’re having trouble with your lines, you’ve lost weight, and those dark circles under your eyes say you haven’t been getting much sleep.”

  “OK, yes, we’ve been going out to clubs a lot, but I have been ‘little miss responsible good girl’ all my life. I’m just blowing off some steam. I’ll try not to be late anymore.”

  “So what are you doing to blow off steam?”

  “What do you mean? Going out dancing.”

  “So Rich hasn’t…you haven’t been doing any drugs?”

  Giselle’s pale face blossomed with rosy cheeks, and she averted her eyes. “Yes, a little coke – but just a little. And molly a couple of times.”

  “Did Rich give it to you?”

  Giselle’s head jerked around, and she glared at Alice. “No, and why would you think such a thing?”

  “Because you weren’t using it before you and he got together.”

  “That’s not altogether true. You know at the Christmas party, we –”

  “You know what I mean. Regularly – like a habit.”

  “It’s not a habit. Rich didn’t give me anything. He doesn’t even use coke. A friend of his from Malibu gets it.”

  Malibu? “Well, will you lay off the party favors?”

  Giselle sniffed and nodded.

  “There’s something else I needed to talk to you about. Jack called me a few days ago.”

  Giselle started but then turned back to the mirror. “Why would he be calling you?”

  “Because he can’t reach you. He says he’s been calling and texting you for weeks.”

  “Why shoul
d I take his calls when he wouldn’t take mine?”

  “I know, but he wants to apologize and explain what happened. I think you should at least listen to him.”

  “Why? Nothing he could say would make a difference. I’m with Rich now.”

  “Well, you need to be careful with Rich. You don’t know everything about him.”

  “And you do?”

  “I know that he could hurt you.”

  “Not as badly as Jack.” Giselle pushed herself up from the dressing table and whirled around on Alice. “Look, I know you liked Rich, and maybe something could have gotten started; but you went off with Peter, and Jack went off with whoever, and Rich and I were there for each other. I’m sorry things didn’t work out with you and Peter, but you had your chance with Rich and you didn’t want him. You blew it. So get over it!”

  “That’s not –”

  “I think you should go.”

  With an exasperated sigh, Alice turned and walked out but didn’t make it twelve feet before she ran into Rich.

  “And what have you been telling my lady love?” he asked, stepping close to her.

  “I told her she needs to cut back on the partying because it is affecting production.”

  “And you think I’m responsible?”

  “Do you deny it?”

  “Just helping her mend her broken heart.”

  “Well, do your mending early enough so she’s ready to tape.”

  She tried to pass, but he blocked her path in the narrow hallway. “I saw those pictures, Alice.” He reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear and rubbed her cheek with his fist. “You try to pretend you aren’t hurt, but I could see it in your eyes. He did break your heart. I can help you, too.”

  “What about Giselle?” As he ran his hand behind her neck, she was filled with disgust – not just with him but with herself for not being able to see through his shtick.

  “I’ll work it out with Giselle. She likes you. Once I’ve explained everything, she’ll play along. I’m good with easing women’s pain – especially pain caused by Walsingham.”

  She flinched at the name and twisted out from his hand. “Can I get back to you on that?”

  She pushed past him and walked straight to the writers’ room. They had a storyline to revise.

  CHAPTER 16

  Eileen insisted they splurge and rent a convertible for their wine tasting tour of Napa Valley. Alice relented but had to wrap a scarf around her head to keep her hair out of her mouth.

  “I think you look very French,” Eileen said. “Very je ne sais quoi.”

  “Or very Thelma and Louise. And how can something be VERY je ne sais quoi?”

  “I don’t know, Alice. We’re on vacation! Don’t be copy-editing me – even in your head.”

  Alice had to admit the open-air enhanced the experience of driving along the Silverado Trail viewing the spectacular landscapes of row after row of grapevines with hills and mountains in the distance. After L.A., Napa seemed like another planet – or at least another continent. They stopped at the wineries they had mapped out on the route, and that evening she arrived at their resort deliciously tipsy.

  Alice checked in with Peacock, and he assured her the only drama had occurred on set.

  “So I take it Rich doesn’t know yet,” she said.

  “No, we are going to wait until the last possible moment when he absolutely must see the script.”

  “I don’t blame you there. Good luck! I’m almost sorry to miss it!”

  Day two proceeded much as day one but on a different highway and with different wineries, except Alice detected a subtle change in Eileen. Whereas they had planned it as a wine tasting trip, Eileen actually developed an interest in the production. After she had tasted all the samples, Alice would wander outside to inhale the beauty of the vineyard while Eileen talked yeast and bottling.

  The third winery on the third day offered some of the best wines they had had on the trip, as well as a host more than willing to provide a few extra samples. As he and Eileen launched into a discussion of varietals, Alice said she would be outside.

  “The house on the property is incredible,” she said. “Would they mind if I got a closer look.” He offered no objection, so out she went.

  She wound along the paths in the direction of the villa – no other word would do it justice – which turned out to be much farther than she had thought. As Eileen clearly would not want to leave anytime soon, Alice pressed onward. She hadn’t made it quite two-thirds of the way when she came upon the last thing she expected to find in a vineyard – a little girl sitting alone under a large fig tree. The child watched her approach, so Alice had no choice but to acknowledge her.

  “Hello,” Alice said and kept walking.

  “What’s your name?”

  Damn. So close. She turned to the girl. “Alice.”

  “Like Alice in Wonderland?”

  “That’s right. What’s your name?”

  “Britney. How old are you?”

  “How old are you?”

  “Seven.”

  “Then you are old enough to learn not to ask a lady her age,” Alice said smiling, and the little girl smiled back. “Seven is a scary number.”

  “Why?”

  “Because seven ate nine.” The little girl giggled. “What are you doing sitting under this tree?”

  “Waiting.”

  “This is a good place for that – nice shade. Waiting for what?”

  “My parents to find me. They’re talking.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  Britney pointed at the main house.

  “You live there?” The little girl nodded. Holy crap! “Then perhaps you won’t mind if I ate one of your figs.” Britney shook her head, and Alice reached up and plucked two ripe figs nestled together. “Do you want one?”

  “They haven’t been washed.”

  Alice examined the figs. “Well, they look clean enough to me.” She grabbed a few more then sat down next to the girl.

  “Alice in Wonderland sat under a tree too,” her new friend said.

  “And this fig says, ‘Eat me.’” After Alice took a bite and did not drop dead, Britney accepted one and bit into it. “That’s a beautiful house. You must love living there.”

  She shrugged. “Not really.”

  “I would love to live in a house like that.”

  “I want to live in Hollywood and be an actress!”

  Naturally. Alice finished one fig, and – sleepy from the walk and the wine – leaned against the tree and bit into a second. “Do your parents know you are out here?”

  “No.”

  “Then how do you know they will find you?”

  “My daddy will find me. He says he loves Alice in Wonderland, so he will know to look for me under a tree.”

  “Don’t you think you should have told them you were leaving?”

  “I don’t like it when they talk about the divorce.”

  Just as Alice thought she was getting the picture, someone came out from behind the tree, and the little girl jumped up.

  “Daddy!”

  “Peter.” Alice couldn’t be sure if she had actually spoken aloud since her heart had lodged in her throat the moment she saw his face.

  “Daddy! Her name is Alice, just like in Wonderland – and she’s sitting under a tree!”

  Her appearance had stunned him as well, and he only managed to say, “Yes.”

  Britney continued to jump around and say words that Alice could not hear through the fog of shock as she and Peter stared at each other. She felt so exposed under his scrutiny, she wanted to grab some of the fig leaves to cover herself.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, but not in the accusatory tone she would have expected – just gentle curiosity.

  “I’ve come to kidnap your daughter and hold her ransom for wine and figs.”

  Britney tugged on his arm. “Daddy, Alice gave me figs and didn’t wash them, and we ate them.”
r />   “Oh, really?” he asked looking from daughter to former-almost lover.

  “I like to live on the edge. Sorry to have been a bad influence on your daughter.”

  “I doubt that’s possible.”

  She wiped the fig juice off on the skirt of her light dress and started to push herself up from the ground when he offered his hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet.

  “So you won’t tell me why you’re here?” he asked with his eyes on hers.

  “Eileen and I are taking a little vacation, touring vineyards. She’s still in there talking grapes. I should get back to her.” Only then did he release her hand.

  “Yes, I should take Britney back to her mother.”

  “I won’t keep you. Britney, it was very nice meeting you.”

  “Bye.” The little girl waved, and Alice turned and walked away as fast as she dared.

  Oh, God. Oh, God. Oh, God. She could not believe what had just happened. Of all the vineyards in the world, and he had to walk into – Oh, God! This must be his vineyard! She had no idea who owned the winery – his name wasn’t on the label – but he would never believe that. He would think she tracked him down deliberately. For what? To try to get him back? Shit, he really might think I planned to kidnap his daughter.

  She had walked quickly and with her head down and arms across her chest and hadn’t paid attention to the paths until she realized she had gone the wrong way. She stumbled around some more until she decided she would never find the right path and would just have to march through the grapevines or die in the middle of Peter’s vineyard. They’ll find my body and say I just couldn’t live without him.

  “Alice.” His voice filled her with trepidation and relief, since at least he would know the way out. “Where are you going?”

  She fixed a smile upon her face before turning around. “I was about to sacrifice myself to Bacchus. I seem to have gotten hopelessly lost. Could you tell me which path to take?”

  After all the publicity and the photos of them in the tabloids, Alice thought he would want to get her off his property as soon as possible, but he said, “How ‘bout I walk with you?”

 

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