His Lordships Daughter

by de'Ville, Brian A

  June looked embarrassed “Yes, O.K, I know you are doing it for the best.” She brightened a little, and smiled. “We’ll take things one day at a time. Today I trust you!”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Phyllipa smiled again “I think both you and I need cheering up, dinner at my place tonight how about it? We’ll have a wonderful meal, we’ll drink lots of champagne and make a night of it, so bring your toothbrush.”

  June nodded happily, “I’ll be there!”

  Phyllipa stared across the dinner table at her friend “What did you think of the steak?”

  June hastily swallowed a mouthful of fruit salad, then took a huge gulp of champagne “Mmm! Smashing! Did you cook it?”

  “Of course not. I had it sent up from the kitchen.” Phyllipa frowned. “I’ve had a very exciting day and the last thing I would wish to think about is preparing a meal. Ugh! I couldn’t imagine anything worse. Can you cook?”

  June coughed as if she had something caught in her throat. Spluttering she dabbed at her mouth with a white napkin. “Well, let me put it this way.” She finally croaked. “If I was on a desert island, I wouldn’t starve.”

  Phyllipa smiled, “I’m pleased to hear it, but that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “Yes I can knock a meal together. It wouldn’t win any prizes, but it would be edible! What sort of domesticated animal are you?”

  “If you are asking me about cooking – forget it. I don’t.” Phyllipa nibbled a stick of celery “But, like you, if I was pushed, I don’t think I would go without.” She giggled. “My father thinks I am very good at roasting chestnuts.” Topping the champagne flutes up, she finished her meal, then looked into her friends face. “Now, you can tell me, what is it about me that attracts you so much?”

  June looked over the rim of her glass. “You’ve noticed?”

  Phyllipa shook her head “I hadn’t! But then you kissed me.”

  “Ah.” Her friend sighed deeply. “I wouldn’t like what I am about to confess to you upset our friendship?”

  “That is highly improbable.”

  June sipped some more wine, a trifle embarrassed “Have you ever seen a face in a crowd that reaches out to you? A face which digs deep inside your own conventionalism? A face which begs something more profound than friendship?”

  Phyllipa shrugged. “Go on…”

  The chagrin died as her friend’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Yours was that face Phyllipa! The very first time I saw you, it hit me where it shouldn’t have hit me and I was hooked. I just had to get to know you, over and above the everyday work commitment. I admit wanting to kiss you, to touch you, and yes, to love you.” For a few seconds she stopped speaking, then started again in a stronger voice. “I think you know that I am not a lesbian and I am pretty confident that you aren’t.” she shrugged her shoulders. “And that’s it.”

  “So, what do you wish to do about it?” Phyllipa asked, picking up June’s hand and gently squeezing it.

  “I thought, that as this is your treat, you may have some ideas of your own?”

  Phyllipa smiled, a look of pure sensuality ran through her eyes as her mind roamed over possibilities. June was correct in assuming that she was straight, but she had always been a great believer in researching the pleasures of the flesh. Apart from the usual “Dorm Games” she had indulged in at her “Finishing School” with her friends, she had never courted Delphic* relationships with other women, although the odd fantasy had run through her carnality more than once. Now, with her friend’s confession still ringing in her ears, she chuckled inwardly as her sub conscious down loaded her individual logo! “She who dares…!”

  “A good supply of champagne and a soft warm bed.” She finally offered “That would be my suggestion. As I just said, it’s been a hard day for the pair of us. We deserve our recreation.” Standing up she grabbed a fresh bottle of champagne and two glasses from the table, bent over June who was dicing some cheese and kissed her cheek. “You will find me in my bed.” Turning to go, a sudden thought struck her, causing her to swing round on her friend “It’s very big!”

  *- Delphic (meaning) obscure or ambiguous

  June nodded, agreeably, as she too left the table. “Do you mind if I watch you undress?”

  Phyllipa imperceptibly shivered as something nice fluttered through her body. “Come on!” Taking June by the arm, she walked to her bedroom, then stood looking at her friend. “Why don’t we watch one another?”

  Happily, they both stripped themselves until they stood naked, conscious of one another’s curiosity. Both had seen other women’s nakedness before, but this was very different. Phyllipa eyed June’s breasts, intrigued by their spherical smallness, whilst June’s inquisitive study wept the whole length and breadth of her friend’s body, causing her to inhale deeply as the latter spread her legs whilst she poured the champagne. Handing a glass to June, Phyllipa scrambled into the large comfortable bed. I don’t wear anything whilst I am sleeping.” Lifting her glass high, she looked into June’s eyes, has she snuggled up beside her. “Donna Con Donna!” she toasted in a ringing voice.

  June sat up, surprised. “What does that mean?”

  “To lesbian love! According to the Romans! It’s my classical education swanking again.”

  “ well as long as that’s all it is, I don’t mind. But, I think I should point out to you once again that I am not a lesbian.”

  “I know you are not.” Phyllipa drank some champagne. “But just for tonight, act like one.”

  “You mean like this?” June pulled her friends face towards her and kissed her mouth. Her soft warm lips startled Phyllipa who found the action extremely pleasing as an inquisitive tongue sought her own, gentle fingers were probing her breasts. Massaging the soft flesh encircling the rounded circumferences, they crept towards her nipples, scraping their sharp nails across the swollen tips, exacting a cry of pleasure from Phyllipa as waves of delight flushed through her body. Suddenly the warm mouth was suckling on her, the searching tongue rolling and licking her nipples whilst the transient fingers with their exquisite touch, fluttered up and down her spine, deftly touching and caressing the smooth buttocks.

  Already in her first stage of arousal, Phyllipa, her hungry loins pushing out invitations thrust her pelvis against her companion’s and opened her legs. Immediately, the travelling fingers swept downwards, tiptoes across her belly, leaving prints of erotic excitement as they plunged between her thighs, exploring her swollen labia, seeking and finding her stiffened seething core of pleasure. Working her body against the welcome trespasser, she suddenly screamed with delight as her companion took a glass of champagne from the bedside table and allowed it to drop between her loins. The chilled liquid splashing her on her blood charged flesh, despatched orgasmic waves, which crashed through her as June, lowering her head, sucked and drank the wine away whilst her warm tongue squee-geed her fleshy outer labia, pushing Phyllipa to the very edge of her sexual sanity. Gritting her teeth, she shivered with excitement as her friend avidly worked on her frantic body. Licking, sucking and massaging until the attendant orgasm which had been relentlessly building skyscraper high inside Phyllipa, suddenly exploded in a massive burst, leaving her limp and breathless, snugly safe in her very own elysian* field of delight.

  For a further few delicious moments she lay there, hardly daring to move a muscle in her satiated body. Although delighted at being introduced to fresh fields of carnal gratification, she was not surprised. The preferential doors had always been open, but, she was pleasantly taken aback by the gentleness of the action and by her companion’s dedication to her happiness. Tiredly opening her eyes, she lazily pulled herself up in the bed, swallowed half a glass of wine, then turned and gazed at her friend who was leaning on her pillows, looking at her.

  “I would be happy if this could remain our secret.”, An apprehensive look on her homely face. “I mean – I wouldn’t like to think you would discuss it with
any of your friends?”

  Phyllipa chuckled “My body tells me this night did happen, but my loyalty screams that it did not.” She kissed June’s mouth, then wriggled herself sensuously

  Deeper into the bed. “But, before I go to sleep, I think in order to put your fears at rest, that even if you allowed me to broadcast this happening, not one of my friends would ever believe me!”

  Chapter 13

  Phyllipa hummed to herself as she waited for Robin, the groom, to finish saddling the chestnut. It was Sunday morning and a shortened daylight was already streaking the sky with sparse colouring. It was the day that her boss was coming to dinner and she felt quite happy about things in general. Steven’s money problems had been ironed out. He had accepted the offer which Phyllipa’s financial people had put to him and everything had settled down again and the factory was swimming with work. He hadn’t breathed a word of his dilemma to his favourite Trouble-Shooter, although he must have known that his behaviour had aroused a few suspicions. After all, he was not aware that Phyllipa and his secretary had arranged the whole thing. And, hopefully, mused Phyllipa, placing her foot in the stirrup held by the groom, he never would!

  She was leaving the yard when his BMW eased itself through the gate. Lowering the driver window, he poked his head and smiled at her. “Good morning!”

  “I thought we would see you later in the day!” she bawled “Did you fall out of bed?”

  He pulled the car up outside the stables and the alert groom disappeared into Sultan’s box. “Daybreak and I are friends.” He explained, stepping from the vehicle. “You don’t hold a patent on the dawn! As I’ve told you before, I do have tasks before I leave my place.”

  Phyllipa reined her horse in. “So do I!” she retorted, facetiously “I put my own shoes on this morning!” he laughed, thinking she was joking and hoping she was, but he never really knew.

  Sultan was suddenly standing before them, skitterish as ever, nervously banging his feet on the hard ground. Steven massaged his nose, blew down his ears and whispered something to him. The horse snickered, and except for an occasional muscle twitch, stood still.

  Phyllipa shook her head, admiringly “What did you say to him?”

  “Horse talk!” Steven replied, pulling himself up into the saddle. “Are you ready, Ms Gore?”

  Phyllipa nodded and the animals trotted through the dew soaked grass and onto the dirty road. A buck rabbit, its mouth working overtime on some leafy breakfast, shot its head in air and magically disappeared whilst two crows noisily skirmished over a rustic night fatality.

  Savouring the fresh coldness of the morning air, Phyllipa breathed in deeply. “This is my favourite time of the day, isn’t it a treat?”

  “Yes! These morning outings are keeping me fit.” He agreed, looking at her. “And the bonus, of course, is you. I have you all to myself, no screaming telephone, no machines breaking down. No sign this and sign that. No nothing, just you.” He nodded excitedly. “That’s my treat!” a hopeful look entered his eyes. “Could I ask if you have thought of my marriage offer again?”

  She smiled “Yes!” with a twinkle in her eye.

  Steven checked his horse. “Yes what?” he asked excitedly.

  “Yes, you may ask.” She replied.

  “O.K so I am asking?”

  Phyllipa frowned. “Even if I am going to refuse you, I think I deserve a little more than “O.K so I’m asking sort of thing.”

  His face coloured up slightly. “I apologise I got carried away.” He pulled Sultan to a halt. “You know as well as I, that I would get on my knees to ask for your hand if I thought you would say yes!”

  “We did find something we couldn’t agree on.” Phyllipa murmured. “Remember?”

  “The New Yorker!” Steven said dejectedly. “That damned contraption has been bugging me since I first saw it.” He looked at her with troubled eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know much about that sort of business. But, I would have thought that if two people loved each other that would be sufficient without to having to resort to artificial aids.”

  “I agree.” Phyllipa said. “But up to now, I haven’t met anyone who could love me that much!”

  “I could!”

  A peal of thunder banged overhead, frightening the horses and saving Phyllipa to answer his challenge as cold rain curtained across the countryside. “Damn! She swore, eyeing the tumbling clouds as she kicked her horse into a gallop. “This wasn’t forecast!”

  The two horses needed little urging as they raced upsides back to the comfort of their warm stables, but the rain was coming harder and by the time the riders had kicked their way through the wooden doors, they were soaking wet. Dismounting, they stripped the horses, rubbing them down until their coats shone. The groom had gone for his breakfast and the stables were quiet. Steven, removing his riding jacket and shirt was towelling the rain from his body when Phyllipa crept up behind him, took the towel from his hand and rubbed the rough material over his perfectly structured chest.

  Her eyes flecked with sexual greed, burned into his as her fingers snatched at his crotch, zipping him wide open.

  A horse was coughing when she opened her eyes, sat up, pulled some bits of straw from out of her hair and looked around at Steven, fully dressed, coming through the door of the loose box. On seeing she was awake, he bent down and kissed her, he then took the horse blanket from her naked body. “You better get dressed!” he suggested, looking at his wristwatch. Phyllipa giggled to herself as she watched him leave. Her memory went back to Miller, her father’s Estate Manager, using almost the same words to her years ago. Quickly dressing herself, she joined her boss. “What happened?” with a clever smile on her face.

  “We got caught in the rain.” He explained. “And you used the opportunity to rape me!”

  “Is that all.” She chuckled. “Did you struggle?”

  “I can’t remember.”

  “Perhaps you thought of your Company, and laid back and enjoyed it?” she joked, hooking her arm beneath his as they walked up to the house. The westbound rain had travelled on and weak sunshine was pushing shadows around the countryside. “Or perhaps it wasn’t worth bringing to mind, eh?”

  He stopped walking and turned to look at her. “Is that what you think?”

  Phyllipa struggled “We are talking about you Steven. Not me! It’s you who can’t remember if you struggled or not.”

  “No! I didn’t struggle. Will that do you?”

  She nodded. “Admirably!”

  Arm in arm they passed through to the breakfast room where her father was into his fourth cup of coffee. He looked up at them. “Did you miss the storm?”

  Phyllipa bent over him and kissed his cheek. “We both got slightly damp.” She answered, giving Steven a meaningful look as he helped himself to food. Joining him she settled for her usual scrambled eggs on toast, then sat with her father at the table.

  “This morning I asked your daughter if she would marry me.” Directing his admission to the head of the household.

  There was a silence as Lord Hemingham stopped chewing to look at his guest. “In another time you would have come to me first requesting permission to pursue my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Phyllipa nodded “We know that father, but, we are not in another time are we?”

  “You don’t appear to be Phyllipa!” he answered quickly “But I would still like to cling to some of the old traditions.”

  Steven looked up, startled “Have I dropped some sort of protocol clanger?”

  Phyllipa dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Not really. My father and I aren’t eyeball to eyeball where some of the graces are concerned.”

  Steven buttered some toast. “Well! Perhaps I can be in accord with you both.” He offered, looking at her parent. “Do I have permission, my Lord!”

  Lord Hemingham smiled. “I wish you well.” He said, attacking his breakfast again.

  “What he didn’t tell you father.” Phyllipa pointed out. “
Was that he has already asked me four times.”

  “Five!” Steven argued.

  “Who’s counting?” Phyllipa said dismissively.

  “You obviously are!” Retorted Steven

  Henry Inchcape-Gore chuckled to himself at the repartee. On the face of it they just may make a wonderful team. He had been right about Steven being in love with his daughter, but he could well understand her being cautious. Still very young, if she was running to true family form she would be giving Steven a trial run. No man likes to be coasted out and measured against improved standards, but the Inchcape-Gores were specialists in selecting the ones which fitted.

  Phyllipa chuckled to herself looking at her boss “Are you trying to start something, Sir?”

  Steven shook his head. “Not on a Sunday Ms Gore, this is my island of peace. I reserve all the week days for in-fighting.”

  “How is the packaging business?” asked his host.

  “We are very busy.” Steven refilled his coffee cup

  “I take it you do all the designing within your company?”

  “Mostly.”

  Phyllipa’s eyebrows shot up. Her father was showing interest in the company told her he was entering the matchmaking ritual.

  “Is designing all you ever wished to do?”

  Steven shook his head regretfully. “No, it isn’t. I always wanted to breed horses and I still do!”

  Phyllipa looked at him. “You never told me that.”

  “You never asked me.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But its academic now isn’t it?”

  “What stopped you?” her father asked.

  “The expense mostly, and the fact that I always seemed to be redesigning machinery around the family farm, as a child I always seemed to be rearranging things.”

  Phyllipa’s eyes creased with hidden laughter. “With all that experience, you might have been tempted to enter the demolition business!”

  Steven stopped eating, aware she was winding him up again. “I create things Ms Gore. Most of the food which you eat was at one time wrapped by my machinery.”