To tell him everything would be like opening Pandora’s box, and God knows what would come flying out, to beset her and make her nightmares worse.
‘Talking of the new King,’ he said easily, realizing she was not going to open up to him, ‘I can’t help thinking it was a bad omen when the jewelled Maltese Cross on the Crown of England came crashing down from his father’s coffin and rolled into the gutter as it was paraded through the streets.’
‘Did it? I didn’t know that,’ she said, intrigued, glad to talk about something else.
‘Are there lots of things you don’t know?’ He reached for her hand, and held it tenderly.
‘That depends.’
‘You’ve been to Paris, I suppose?’
She shook her head.
‘Then I’ll take you,’ he said in delight. ‘We’ll stay at the Ritz, dine at Maxim’s, go shopping in the Rue de Rivoli, have lunch in Montmartre, go to l’Opera, and end up being real tourists by going up to the top of the Eiffel Tower, to see the whole city spread out at our feet. What do you say?’ The look in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine.
‘I don’t see how I can …’ Tantalizing visions of a weekend in Paris with this incredible man seemed thrilling but impossible.
‘If you think your parents would make a fuss, I’ll get my mother to invite you for the weekend to our place in Kent. In reality, we’ll drive to Dover, and cross on the ferry to Calais. Then we’ll drive to Paris.’
He leaned across and took her other hand, as he gazed intently into her eyes. ‘You’ll come with me, won’t you?’
Juliet felt momentarily dizzy. It was one thing sneaking off to a houseboat whilst pretending to be at a girls’ supper party in Chelsea, but to go abroad …! She gazed back into his eyes and met the challenge.
‘Why not?’ she replied boldly, after only a moment’s hesitation. His audacity at inviting her away for a weekend was stunning but terribly exciting. ‘But only as a friend,’ she added quickly, in case he thought she was fast.
‘Of course,’ he agreed, with equal speed, and seeming understanding, which then made Juliet feel immoral for even suggesting he might have had other ideas.
Daniel spoke reassuringly. ‘So when would you like to go?’
She looked into his eyes and felt a thrilling sort of terror. No matter what she’d just said, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that this man was going to be her first lover. An experienced lover, too. She started trembling, unable to meet his gaze.
‘Let’s go in a couple of weeks,’ he said, without waiting for her answer. Then he leaned closer, so she could feel his breath on her cheek. ‘We’ll have a never-to-be-forgotten time, I can promise you that.’
She smiled. ‘Paris in the spring,’ she said, putting on a grand society voice, as if she’d just said Shopping in Bond Street. ‘What fun!’
‘Who is she?’ Liza asked. ‘It’s very kind of her to invite you for the weekend, but who else is going to be there? Is she having a house party?’
‘I think so,’ Juliet lied. She’d shown her mother the letter from Sonia Lawrence, handwritten on pale blue stationery, with the address in Kent printed at the top.
‘Then you’d better accept,’ Liza said vaguely. She was having a dreadful time working out the seating plan for the church for Rosie’s wedding, and Henry wasn’t helping her at all.
‘I’ll do it right away,’ Juliet replied. In reality, she thought dreamily, I’ll really be accepting … being wined and dined at all the best places in Paris, before Daniel … She gave a quick intake of breath, visualizing a large double bed, with snowy white sheets and soft pillows, and Daniel carrying her to it, and then lying down beside her … she replayed that bit over and over in her mind, because the anticipation of that moment was so delicious … Then he would reach for her … The rest of her reverie was hot and hazy; she could hardly wait.
‘How do you like it?’ Charles asked Rosie. He’d taken her to see the small house in Farm Street where they were going to live when they were married.
Rosie was stunned by the tiny rooms, and hurt because he’d bought the house without consulting her first. She decided, however, it would be best to make appreciative sounds at this stage. Anyway, it would do for a start, but of course they’d have to get a bigger place within the next year or so.
‘It’s sweet!’ she exclaimed, tucking her hand through his arm. ‘And it’s lovely being just a few minutes’ walk from Green Street too.’
‘I thought you’d like that.’ He looked satisfied with himself, walking around the empty rooms, which were so small he could actually cover them in four or five strides.
‘Where will the staff go?’ Rosie asked, mystified. On the ground floor there was a small hall, a dining room and the kitchen; an L-shaped drawing room took up the first floor, and on the floor above, there was a bedroom, a dressing room and a tiny bathroom. Two more very small bedrooms took up the top floor.
‘Staff?’ Charles queried, taken aback. ‘Well, I suppose, if you want a maid, she could sleep in the attic, except there’s no bathroom up there.’
Rosie turned her drenched bluebell-coloured eyes on him; they were filled with anguish.
‘A maid? Darling, we’ll have to have a cook, a housemaid, and a parlour maid, and who is going to open the front door? My mother says …’
Charles was to hear a lot more of what her mother said in the months ahead.
‘A lot of people have dailies now,’ he urged, an edge of panic in his voice at the thought of how much all this was going to cost. ‘When we’re married, do we really want a lot of living-in servants hovering around, so we never have any privacy? I want to be alone with you, my darling,’ he wheedled, slipping his arm around her waist. ‘I want us to live here as a honeymoon couple, so we can make love whenever we want to, wherever we want to, night and day.’ He pressed himself against her, his hand lightly stroking her stomach so that her insides quickened with desire. ‘We’ll move to a bigger house, of course, in due course, but this will do for the time being, won’t it?’
Rosie gave an inward sigh of relief. For a ghastly moment she thought Charles had expected her to live like this for ever. Instantly mollified, she wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him warmly. Charles was right, and so romantic. This was just a love nest. A place where they could indulge in all sorts of decadent things, like drinking champagne in bed after they’d … She blushed in anticipation.
‘It’s perfect, darling. So cosy,’ she whispered. ‘I wish we were married now.’
‘So do I …’ There was a catch in his voice. ‘Shall we …?’
‘Oh no, we mustn’t.’ Rosie pulled away, slightly shocked. ‘We must wait until our wedding night.’
Reluctantly, he started talking about the furniture they’d need, in order to distract himself.
On their first night in Paris, Daniel took Juliet to Maxim’s. ‘Shall I order for both of us?’ he asked.
‘Why not?’ she said, smiling. She was beginning to like being taken care of by this powerfully charismatic man.
Daniel signalled to the waiter. ‘We’ll start with foie gras, please. Then the salmon.’ He reached for the wine list and studied it closely.
Sitting beside him on the banquette, which was covered in crimson plush, Juliet looked around with interest. Her reflection was repeated again and again in the art deco mirrors that were hung on the walls. The lighting was dim and discreet. The place had an air of dignified opulence.
For the first time, Juliet felt confident in a way she’d never felt before. She was free of family shackles and disapproval and she was with a man she felt deeply attracted to, relishing the thought of wielding her sexual power over him, because although he was an even more controlling person than she was, she felt she would ultimately hold the ace card. After all, she was a woman.
Daniel had arranged for a hairdresser to come to their hotel suite, and she was thrilled by the way her hair had been caught back into a chignon, and decorated
with a spray of black osprey feathers. No one in London had ever made her look so chic. She was also wearing a low-cut black evening dress she’d secretly bought the previous week. Diamond drop earrings shimmered in the dim light. She knew she’d never looked so good. Or so grown-up.
Daniel had even presented her with a corsage of intoxicatingly perfumed gardenias, when they’d had champagne in their petit salon, before leaving for Maxim’s.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ Daniel had said when she’d emerged from her room. ‘I’ve never seen anyone as exquisite as you.’
Then he’d leaned forward and very slowly and carefully kissed her white throat.
All this is happening to someone else, she thought. Green Street is a million miles away. Juliet Granville, ex-débutante, no longer exists. The smell of the roses in the salon, combined with the clinging sweetness of the gardenias, suddenly assailed her, making her take a deep breath. She wanted to fill her lungs with the potent perfume until she drowned in it. This was paradise. She wanted to stay here for ever, where all her earthly desires were about to be satisfied.
Later, a small orchestra started playing, and the small dance floor quickly became crowded, as rich and fashionable couples foxtrotted and quickstepped their way around. Juliet spotted Douglas Fairbanks, over from Hollywood, and Barbara Hutton, the Woolworth millionairess, wearing diamonds as big as quail eggs, but with eyes as dull and listless as grey pebbles on a beach.
‘Shall we dance?’ Daniel asked softly.
Juliet nodded, rising and slipping into his arms as if that was where she belonged. Soon she became oblivious of everyone else, letting the music and the feel of Daniel’s body carry her into a world of magic. She played her old trick of swaying her hips against his, wondering how quickly she could arouse him.
He pulled apart from her suddenly. ‘Stop that,’ he said sternly. ‘I do the leading in this relationship.’
For a moment anger flaired up in her, and her aquamarine eyes flashed. She was not used to being talked to like that, but then she remembered she’d only danced with young men in the past, some of them mere boys.
For a moment she held herself stiffly, her shoulders squared, her chin raised in defiance. Suddenly she wasn’t sure if she really wanted to be dominated like this.
‘I’d like a drink,’ she said coolly, extricating herself from his arms, and walking back to the table.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and she refused to look at him, although she knew he was staring at her profile.
Not being in control … that’s when the demons returned. Mocking her, giving her nightmares, frightening her terribly. She had to feel in charge of a situation, and she had no intention of relinquishing that position.
Then she felt his hand close over hers. It was warm, powerful and strong. He spoke, softly but firmly, as if she were a nervous, highly strung filly.
‘This is only going to work if you trust me, Juliet.’
She flicked a quick, tentative look in his direction, and saw only tenderness and kindness in his expression. Her eyes suddenly brimmed with tears, and she gave a shaky smile.
He spoke again. ‘I promise you I won’t hurt you, darling.’
‘I know you won’t,’ she said in a small voice.
‘You’ll be quite safe with me.’
She nodded, unable to speak. This was all going to be much more difficult than she’d imagined. And difficult in a way he’d never understand.
‘Can I have a brandy, please?’
‘We’ll both have brandies, and then we’ll go back to the hotel, shall we?’
Juliet nodded again, hoping the waiter would bring very large brandies.
They strolled the short distance from Maxim’s to the Ritz in the Place Vendôme under a soft starry sky. A drift of Gitanes smoke filled the air. The sound of traffic was a distant hum.
Back in their suite, Daniel led her by the hand into her luxuriously furnished bedroom, with its gold satin draperies and dark mirrors. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her, gently at first and then with growing passion. She started to say something between his kisses, but he placed his forefinger against her lips to hush her, before gently unpinning her hair, until it rippled down her back, like ripe corn.
Unresisting, she let him remove her earrings, one by one. She tried to catch his strong hands, and hold them in her own small ones, but he brushed her softly aside. Then, with infinite patience, he started undoing the row of tiny buttons down the side of her dress, tantalizing her by making her stand still when all she wanted to do was to fling herself into his arms.
At last the dress slid to the floor, and lay around her feet in pools of black chiffon.
‘Oh God, you’re beautiful,’ he groaned, as he carefully undid her suspenders, his hands stroking the insides of her thighs as he did so, before he eased off her black satin shoes and silk stockings. Shaking now, with frustration and longing, she let him remove the black lace and satin underclothes she’d secretly bought in Rome.
‘Take off your clothes,’ she urged, tremulously, reaching for his black bow tie.
His voice was thick with yearning. ‘Not until I’ve kissed you all over.’ Then he trailed his fingertips over the marble whiteness of her body, kissing her where his hands had been, stroking her until she shivered violently.
Even when she whispered brokenly that she wanted him, he still didn’t hurry. Murmuring tender words of love between his kisses, he continued soothing her, stroking her as if she’d been a cat, wanting her to be completely relaxed.
‘You’re so desirable,’ he murmured, his voice husky.
Juliet felt a rising tide of passion within herself, a need she’d never known before, a desperate wanting to belong to this man, and be his, for ever.
Her hands were seeking him out now, trying to unbutton his trousers, searching feverishly for him. Wanting him more than she’d ever wanted anything in her whole life.
He looked directly into her face, his eyes drilled hers. ‘Are you sure?’ he whispered, his hands stilled.
‘Oh, yes, yes. Absolutely sure.’
And she was. Ripe for picking, he reflected, as he tore off his own clothes.
Juliet gasped at the full revelation of his ardour, crying out with a mixture of fear and desire.
Without a word, he carried her to the bed and lay down beside her, but even then he held back, whispering to her softly until she became submissive.
Then his kisses became rough and urgent, as he slowly, so slowly she thought she would scream with frustration, began to enter her. He was very gentle at first, as he tentatively pressed against the resistance of her virginity. Then, with a sudden cry of joy, she was all his, letting the moment ride on a tide of passion, so that their cries became mingled. The waves became deeper, more violent, more desperate, as she strained to make him all hers, crying out, ‘Don’t stop …! Oh, never stop. I want you, I want you, I want …’
Juliet was sobbing when it was over, as they lay still locked together, wanting it to happen again. And again. And again.
‘Did you have a nice weekend, darling?’ Liza asked brightly, looking at Juliet with curiosity. Something was different about her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Her eyes seemed a paler shade, and her skin had a luminous glow that had nothing to do with make-up. She also seemed very preoccupied.
‘Is Mrs Lawrence nice?’ Liza continued. ‘What’s their house like? Who else was staying?’
‘I had a lovely time,’ Juliet replied vaguely.
‘Good.’ Liza didn’t press her for details, knowing Juliet would clam up even more; she was becoming very secretive these days. Anyway, Liza’s mind was full of Rosie’s wedding arrangements, apart from all the social engagements the London season brings with it. That evening she and Henry were guests at a dinner party given by Chips Channon and his wife, in their new home at 5 Belgrave Square.
Liza dressed with care, and wore her best sapphire and diamond necklace. She’d heard the new King
and Wallis Simpson were expected, as well as Winston and Clemmie Churchill.
As soon as they arrived, Chips drew Liza to one side. He looked concerned and embarrassed.
‘My dear Liza, forgive me if I’m speaking out of turn, but was it really Juliet I saw at Maxim’s last Friday night?’
Liza blinked. ‘Maxim’s? In Paris?’ Then she smiled at the absurdity of the suggestion. ‘Absolutely not, Chips. She was staying with friends in Kent.’
Chips frowned. ‘Are you sure? She was too preoccupied to see me, but I would swear on my life it was her. I must say she looked much older in a black dress and feathers in her hair, but her face is so distinctive. It couldn’t have been anyone else.’
Liza remembered how strangely different Juliet had seemed since she’d returned. Her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch.
‘Was she in a party of young people?’ she asked, hopefully.
‘That’s the point,’ Chips said, agitated. ‘I wouldn’t have even mentioned it if that had been the case, but she was with a nasty piece of work called Daniel Lawrence.’
The blood drained away from Liza’s face. She felt cold and sick. ‘Juliet received a letter from a Mrs Lawrence to go and stay with them. Is Daniel her son?’
Chips raised his eyebrows, quizzically. ‘Sonia Lawrence is his wife. She stays at home in Kent, with their three young children, while Daniel seeks out beautiful young women, who he seduces.’
‘Oh! My God …!’
Seeing her expression, Chips took her hand and held it firmly. ‘Oh, my dear Liza. I’m sorry. I’ve had sleepless nights. Worrying about whether I should tell you or not …’
‘You were right to do so,’ she said, faintly. ‘Henry will be devastated. But why did his mother write to Juliet? I saw the letter myself,’ she added, dazed into stupidity.
‘His mother died years ago. Knowing him, he probably wrote the letter himself …’
‘Oh, my God,’ Liza said again, swaying slightly. A footman came up with a tray of drinks, and she took a glass of champagne, her hand trembling. ‘I’ve been so busy with Rosie … I never thought to check who Juliet was staying with …’ Her voice trailed off, and she bit her lower lip.
The Granville Sisters Page 11