Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III

by J Buchanan, Jade Falconer, Eliza Gayle

  "No, brother,” he corrected, “young Rebecca."

  "Too right, I forget myself. Of course, he should find in Rebecca all of the attributes one should be allowed to expect from a young lady, and how better to value Rebecca than to be subjected to Felicity."

  They shared a quiet laugh.

  * * * *

  So, for a bit, Lord Kincade was left to suffer, and suffer he did. As the evening moved closer to the dinner gong, he moved even closer to gagging on the insufferable attitude of his companion. Felicity's mood darkened with the gloaming. Never a witty or bright person to begin with, she became even duller as the day waned. As they meandered through the crowd, Kincade was able to maintain a somewhat obligatory polite façade and speak of banal subjects and laugh at all the right places. Inside, a feeling had begun to grow of expectation, and he could not understand or explain its origin. How could he feel hope in the midst of such hopeless companionship?

  Finally, he realized the source of his anticipation. He was hoping to see Byron Jones. Mentally he castigated himself for harboring such vain wishes, yet he couldn't seem to help himself. He wanted to see Byron more than anything. He imagined Byron's gentle smile, his capricious laugh, the way his eyebrow arched when he asked a question. Kincade suffused with tenderness. Inadvertently he glanced down at Felicity, but his mind was solely on Byron.

  * * * *

  Thus was the scene when Byron as Rebecca entered the garden courtyard. Byron had hoped, somehow, to meet with Kincade; but seeing Richard with Felicity and seeing his look of seeming devotion for her broke his heart. Oh the pain—such physical pain that Rebecca cried aloud at its brutality. Tears flooded his eyes, and blindly he turned to Hugh.

  "Oh, dear Hugh,” he sobbed in despair. “How shall I bear it?"

  "Never fear, sweetheart, he's not losing his heart to that horrible chit. Look.” He pointed at the couple. “He sees her for what she is."

  "So, what was that look?” asked Byron.

  Hugh stroked his tiny mustache thoughtfully and said, “Perhaps his mind was on more masculine pursuits. Come with me. It's high time you were introduced to Lord Richard Kincade."

  Byron hung back hesitantly. “What if he doesn't like me? Or, worse yet, what if he sees through this charade?"

  "Would you leave the worrying to me?” Hugh shook his head. “I have everything under control."

  * * * *

  Master Fitzhugh Percival might have thought himself the conductor of the night's sonata, but in reality, Godwin, Geoffrey and Portia were in charge of the night's jig and waltz. They planned to put their scheme into action during the dinner hour, and so by instigating the help of young Gaston, they would manage to bring to ruin Miss Felicity's aspirations and to bring to fruition those of young Rebecca.

  Lurking in the shadows, they watched the introduction of Lord Kincade and Miss Rebecca Jones and conspired how best to insure a match between the two. Perhaps, the terrible Miss Turner might meet with some unfortunate incident, so the servants devised their dastardly plot—rather too cheerfully Portia decided later, but at the time, it was great devilish fun.

  Chapter Six

  With a graceful flourish, Rebecca Jones flipped open her mother-of-pearl handled fan, which depicted the most charming of creatures: a unicorn cavorting in a garden to the seductive tunes of Pan. Hugh drew her near to her side, as they made their way across the crowded grounds to a semi-circle of Hugh's friends, who hovered near a punchbowl full of floating fruit and a tart libation. This was no weak offering to the gods, but instead it was a heavy hearty brew meant to rouse the partygoers and to insure the party's success. The ball would be remembered as a jolly good time simply because of the punch.

  Kincade stood at the core of the merrymakers cutting some joke, when he happened to look up and see Rebecca.

  Their eyes locked for but a brief moment, but in that moment Kincade felt the strangest feeling wash over him. Surely, he had never met this exotic creature, and yet she seemed so familiar to him. It was as though he had known her intimately for years. A heated flush rose from his throat into his cheeks, when he realized that he was staring at her. Who is this woman? he wondered. I feel as though I could look into her very soul and find myself there. What is it about her? It is ... déja vu. That's the word!

  Now, and most unusually, Kincade found himself with the stirrings of desire—for a woman! Never before had any woman managed to entice his Lordship, but this woman made him feel things he could not explain. Beside him, Felicity gave a slight cough, jarring him back to the moment, for he was in the most delightful daydream.

  "Hugh,” she said a mite too sweetly, “please do introduce us to your friend. I presume she is dear Byron's cousin."

  "Oh yes, yes indeed,” blustered Hugh. “Miss Rebecca Jones, I would like for you to meet his Lordship Richard Kincade and his intended, Miss Felicity Turner.” He turned with a slight bow to the couple, and said, “Richard, Felicity, please meet my newest dear friend, Miss Rebecca Jones."

  That explains it, thought Kincade. She is Byron's cousin. My God, no wonder she seems so familiar. She has his eyes. Aloud he said, “Wonder of wonders, Byron's cousin.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I've not heard young Byron speak of any relatives."

  "Well, we've never really been close,” Rebecca said. “At least, our families are not too familiar, but Byron and I found we had much in common."

  Hugh choked back a laugh; Rebecca shot him a reproachful glance.

  "I'm sure,” drawled Kincade.

  Rebecca turned to Felicity and asked, “Are you closely acquainted with my cousin, Felicity?"

  "Oh dear me, yes,” she said. Felicity patted herself and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Byron and I are this close,” she said and held up her right hand to show her crossed fingers.

  "Really?” asked Rebecca. “Do, please, tell me more."

  As Felicity waxed lyrical about her supposed friendship with Byron, Lord Kincade took the opportunity to study the beautiful Miss Jones. A closer examination began to reveal some interesting clues about the woman. Kincade noticed that she was quite tall for a woman; she was probably only a few inches shy of six feet—and speaking of feet, hers were rather large. Even though her satin choker was wide, it still did not entirely cover her Adam's apple. Lord Kincade was almost positive that the fairer sex lacked that particular physical accoutrement. Rebecca's eyes were of considerable interest to him, because they were so much like Byron's. His Lordship had found Byron's eyes so alluring, and here this person possessed the same doe-like soft brown eyes.

  The dinner gong sounded.

  "Well, Richard, if you can tear your eyes away from Miss Jones, we should head into the dining room.” Felicity was furious with him. Imagine him ignoring her for the odious Miss Jones. Unfortunately, her tone betrayed her.

  Hugh tucked his arm under Rebecca's and said, “Too right, Kincade. You've got your own date, old man."

  "Beg pardon,” Kincade said stiffly. “It's just that she reminds me so much of Byron.” He scratched his cheek. “By the by, where is Byron?"

  "Oh, he's around here somewhere, I'm sure,” said Hugh. He turned to Rebecca. “Shall we?"

  * * * *

  The two couples joined the press of people crowding into the dining room. Wonderful smells of roasted chicken and fresh bread beckoned them into the feast, and Rebecca had a hard time restraining her natural boyish hunger. Everyone milled about looking for their place cards before settling down to be served. Unfortunately, a grave error had apparently occurred. Lord Kincade and Miss Turner were not placed together, rather Lord Kincade found himself seated by Rebecca while the erstwhile Felicity found herself much too close to one Rueben McKinley—a nasty bloke with the bad habit of constantly picking his nose.

  "I am not supposed to be here; I should be with my fiancé,” she screeched, but to no avail.

  Geoffrey hurried to her side. “I am so sorry, Miss. I wish that we could move you, but alas, the difficulties involved...” He s
pread his hands in a gesture that alluded to a vast span. “I'm sure you will have wonderful company with Lord Reuben on your right and his twin Lord Rufus on your left."

  Felicity was horrified. But like so many things that weren't incorporated into her education, perception proved to be another of the lady's lackings. Geoffrey chuckled softly as he walked toward the kitchen. Lord Rueben picked away at an errant bugger, flaring and sniffing away with his hairy nostrils. She blanched and turned to face his brother. Lord Rufus was not a nose picker, but he was unusually endowed with rather large testicles which he adjusted constantly. It was as though he could never find a comfortable place to put them. Sitting, apparently, proved to be uncomfortable, for he was forever touching himself and shifting in his seat.

  Rage boiled behind Felicity's dark green eyes. Her pixie face became drawn and hard—a foretaste of its future permanent state. At that moment, she appeared to loathe everyone and everything, but most especially she hated that dreadful servant of Lord Kincade's, Geoffrey.

  "Surely, the man could have done something!"

  And he had ... done something. He had dropped a little something into her flaming auburn mane. Actually, he had dropped two somethings ... two small but distinctly recognizable creatures ... two cockroaches.

  * * * *

  While Felicity was occupied with an insect infestation of both the six-legged and two-legged varieties, Rebecca and Kincade had a marvelous time together. Rebecca opened up to Kincade, regaling him with witty anecdotes and making mischievous comments about various and sundry of the guests. She flirted outrageously with him, knowing it might be her one and only chance. One moment she was all the coquette, and the next she would be innocent and shy.

  Despite himself, he was intrigued; for he had figured out almost from the beginning that Rebecca was actually Byron. He wondered what the young man was playing at. No one else seemed to notice that the beautiful young woman was not a woman at all. He suspected Hugh was in on this lark; he would have to be...

  I think I should seduce Miss Rebecca Jones and just see what happens, he decided. Suddenly, he was aroused. Oh, yes. I should definitely see what young Byron is up to. This could prove to be great fun, great fun indeed.

  He propped his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “Tell me, Rebecca ... I may call you Rebecca?"

  She nodded.

  "Rebecca, would you mind foregoing dessert and have a dance with me? The parquet is no longer crowded, and we can avoid being crushed."

  Hugh choked and elbowed Rebecca fiercely in the side. She cast her glance to him, and he mouthed the word no to her. Still, the temptation of a dance with Kincade proved to be Rebecca's undoing. How could she say no?

  "I would love to dance,” she said in a low husky voice.

  Something inside Kincade melted. He smiled. “Very well. May I take your hand?"

  Byron's long, slender fingers curled into Kincade's. Kincade found himself longing to pull the younger person into his arms, to kiss and caress her ... him?

  They moved onto the parquet platform that served as the ballroom floor in the garden. The heady scent of roses, the heat of the candles, the sounds of evening birds settling for the night combined to create the perfect romantic atmosphere. Rebecca found herself pulled into Kincade's embrace, closer than she had imagined. Though he held her hand with the lightest of touches, it was exciting.

  As they danced and whirled to the soft refrain, Kincade stroked the inside of Rebecca's hand, sending tingling sensations throughout her body. Slowly his thumb moved back and forth against the sensitive inside of her hand.

  Rebecca's mouth went dry. She licked her lips and Kincade's gaze followed every tiny flick of her tongue. His tongue briefly darted onto his bottom lip in response. He pulled her closer, and his hand rubbed the small of her back. She caught her breath in surprise.

  What is he doing? she wondered. She looked into his eyes; they were alight with amusement and desire...

  Slowly, and without Rebecca being aware of it, Kincade moved them closer and closer to the edge of the dance floor. He continued his gentle assault on her palm. The feeling created a commotion inside of her. She was unprepared for such a sensual experience in such a public place.

  When they reached the corner of the parquet, Kincade pushed Rebecca away in a sudden twirl and then pulled her back, catching her lightly around the waist and leading her to a secluded place beneath a large sycamore tree. Its low hanging branches and thick foliage shielded the couple from any prying eyes. Rebecca pulled a leaf from one of the lower branches. She walked away from Kincade; torn between anxiety and longing, she played with the leaf turning it over and over in her hand, until she realized that she was evoking the same feelings he had caused by stroking her palm. She shredded the leaf and dropped the ravaged pieces onto the ground.

  Kincade walked up behind her. Carefully he placed his hands around her waist. Rebecca was all too aware of him behind her—of the warm male heat of him, the scent of his skin, the weight of his hands. His fingers tightened. He leaned forward and brushed his lips against the nape of her neck. Softly he began to kiss her there. Tenderly he placed small hot kisses that left her breathless. Finally, he turned her to face him and pulled her close in a crushing embrace, then he kissed her.

  But Rebecca was not really a her, and the part of Rebecca that was Byron responded. Byron felt himself grow hard, then harder, and unbelievably harder still; until the masculine overcame the feminine and blossomed. Byron's erection was full and complete—and crushed against the equally hard member of Kincade's body. Byron's body stiffened in mute rejection of his betrayal, while his cock, that fiend, responded readily to the feel of Kincade's against him.

  Byron looked into Kincade's eyes and saw that he knew. He knew! Yet he had said nothing. With a cry, Byron pushed down on the manly object protruding between the panels of his petticoat; yet the moment he released it to gather his cape about him, it bounced back to attention. He turned to run.

  "Byron, wait,” said Kincade and grabbed futilely for his arm.

  Sick with dread and unfulfilled desire, Byron ducked under the branches of the sycamore and ran alongside the deserted side of the palace. Kincade made as though to follow him, but once he rounded the corner of the mansion, he could no longer see which way Byron had run.

  Byron fled into the confines of the stable and called for a livery boy to help him mount a coach. The confused youngster led him to Lord Percival's carriage and instructed the driver to take Miss Jones to the home of her cousin. As the carriage hurried down the long winding driveway, the boy scratched his head and said, “That woman had the deepest voice. If I hadn't seen her, I would have sworn she was a man."

  * * * *

  "Take me home!” she screamed. Felicity stood in the midst of the dining room, raking her fingers through her hair and stamping her feet in agitation. Gaston, nearby, pointed his finger at her and yelled in his clear childish voice.

  "Cockroach! I see a cockroach in yon hair!"

  Tittering broke out as Felicity searched through her hair for the offensive creature. Rueben removed his finger from his nostril long enough to point a stained finger in her direction and yell, “It's there, Felicity, there on your bodice."

  She hit frantically at her chest while Rufus, who was the more active of the twins, heaved himself from his chair in a vain attempt to rescue her, only to wobble unsteadily pitching forward and falling against her chest. He flung out his hands and managed to grab both of her breasts before they both toppled backward onto a nearby serving table. Felicity's misfortune was increased; she landed square in the middle of a huge tureen of steaming duck soap; Rufus fell heavily on top of her. His gigantic testicles made direct contact with Felicity's knee. He screamed a high-pitched trill and rolled over into a platter of beans, clutching his aching parts.

  Meanwhile, the cockroach, no doubt seeking a safe hiding place, scurried up the front of Felicity's dress and dove headfirst into her cleavage. Said mistr
ess plunged her hand between her breasts, all the while wailing at the top of her lungs.

  * * * *

  Godwin discreetly pulled young Gaston back into the kitchen. His uncles clapped him on the back.

  "Good job, young man, good job,” they said. They peeked through the waiter's window into the dining room.

  "Let me see, please,” said Gaston, so Geoffrey hoisted him up allowing him full view of the ridiculous scene.

  Felicity's anger erupted into a violent caterwauling that caused Geoffrey to quickly lower young Gaston and cover his ears. Loud and unchecked laughter could be heard coming from somewhere behind her; she spun around and spotted the source of such audacious merriment—Hugh Percival. Braying like a deranged donkey, she pushed her way through the crowd to confront him.

  "You,” she hissed. “You did this."

  Hugh wiped the tears from his eyes, sniffed and said, “Oh, not I, dear Felicity. I couldn't have come up with such divine a scheme, though I must say I greatly appreciate you thinking I could have done so.” He giggled and snorted as the roach peeped over the lacy bodice of her dress. Quickly he grabbed the little creature.

  "Here, here, good fellow,” he held up the cockroach, “be on your way; you've done your deed tonight.” He stood and bowed to the cockroach, while the remaining guests laughed and clapped in amusement.

  Felicity ended their mirth by stomping the cockroach, thus ending his short but quite adventurous life.

  Kincade chose that moment to rush into the dining room looking for his best friend. “Hugh,” he cried and ran toward him.

  Most unfortunately, it had not escaped Felicity's notice that he had left the dining room with Rebecca. She spilled her virulent anger onto Kincade, screaming and pounding on his chest with her fists.

  He grabbed her hands. “Woman, be still,” he said loudly.

  Felicity choked and sputtered, but finally she calmed down.

  "Where is she, Hugh?” he asked. “Where did she go?"

  "Who? Rebecca?"

  "Take me home,” demanded Felicity.