by Georgia Rose
“It makes no difference, I still can’t dance.”
“Oh...come on, Em, we know each other better now. We know how each other moves, how we fit together.” His words were soothing and seductive. “You’ll find you’re better than you think you are.” Taking my hand, he pulled me up into a standing position, placing his hand firmly in the small of my back so I could feel its heat as he started towards the dance floor. “And anyway, I’m a great lead.” I saw him nod to the band, who swiftly started to reorganise themselves ready for us. This had clearly been carefully planned and I didn’t want to let him down, but my legs quaked beneath me and I felt sick at the thought of showing him up in front of everyone.
“Who says?” I responded sharply, wondering which fleet-footed vixen had boosted his ego with this praise.
“Cavendish.”
“What?”
“All boys’ school, Em, I told you that. Our foxtrot was something to behold!” He flashed his eyes at me, laughing at my expression. I couldn’t get rid of the image that had now been implanted in my mind.
Our guests had cleared the floor, and now gathered round to watch. My legs were turning to rubber as Trent brought my arms up and into the correct position.
I muttered, “I’m not sure I can do this.” Panicked thoughts of tripping, falling, taking him down with me, flitted through my mind.
“’Course you can. Anyway you’re not going to have a choice, and you’d better brace yourself because I’m taking you with me.” His leg pushed against mine, forcing me to step back, and we were off. The music was modern. I recognised it as something Trent had been playing frequently recently, and now I knew why. I could feel my tension building, stiffening across my shoulders. I gripped his hand tightly.
“Relax, Em, I’ve got you,” he murmured, and he really had. I was swept across the floor, releasing the breath I’d been holding, feeling myself relax as I did, my hand unclenching from his then tightening again as we reached a corner. He negotiated me round it. Clapping and cheers surrounded us; I couldn’t believe we were actually doing it. I got the hang of the steps, and as long as Trent wasn’t about to throw me a curve-ball in the shape of anything more adventurous I felt I could get through this without making a spectacle of myself.
Then the pressure was off. Others joined us on the floor. Trent’s previous dancing partner, Cavendish, and Grace came past us, looking considerably more accomplished. And once the floor became busier it was just us two again and we slowed down, moved closer, Trent meeting my eyes, and as always when we were this close the intensity grew. His hand moved to my face, cupping my jaw, his fingers in my hair as his lips touched mine, dancing and kissing, kissing and dancing, as we spun round the floor. As the music ended Trent held me tight, then led me back to my safe area among the tables where I was considerably more at ease.
“Can’t believe I did that without falling over.”
“Told you I was good...” He chuckled as I raised an astonished eyebrow at his lack of modesty.
“At least there’s nothing wrong with your ego. Go and make yourself useful, husband, by getting me a drink, please...”
“Of course, Mrs Trent.” And kissing my hand, he walked away. Hmm...I was going to have to do something about that. Mrs Trent was not going to work, and I didn’t think he was going to like it. I watched him cross the room, intercepted by Cavendish with whom he exchanged a brief word which looked strangely serious in the circumstances. Then they beckoned Wade and Hayes over to them, and all continued casually towards the bar but looked anything but casual to me.
I had meant to go over to chat to Bray and Mrs F, but instead I headed to the bar, stopping short at a table where Burton and Young were seated, deep in conversation. Then, seeing Greene and Carlton enter the ballroom, I waved Greene over to join us while Carlton made his way to join the others at the bar.
“What’s going on?” Greene queried, then, looking at me, added, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, just need a bit of cover,” I said in a low voice, surreptitiously inclining my head towards the bar. “They’re up to something, I can feel it. Look like we’re deep in conversation while I try and listen.” Greene’s eyes flicked to the bar then back to me.
“It might be them organising a surprise for you. It is your wedding day,” she whispered as I tried to tune into the conversation behind me. I could hear only snatches.
“More surprises? Didn’t you see me dance? That’s more than enough for one day. No, it’s something else.” I heard the words ‘“ballistics report”. It sounded as though Cavendish was filling the others in; presumably the report had arrived. I could only pick out the odd word or phrase: “calibres”, “casings”, “checked against known firearms”.
“Now that Trent has gone all open and honest with you, why don’t you just ask him later?”
I rolled my eyes at Greene’s naïvety.
“Matching firing pin markings...breech markings...striations.”
“Trent likes to protect me, he knows I’ve struggled getting over “the incident”. I don’t think this is something he’ll be sharing.” I heard “one anomaly...the man at the stables”, and Carlton’s voice asking, “What does that mean?” Good question.
“Trent’s spotted you, he’s coming over,” muttered Greene, then she laughed as if I’d made a joke. Trent arrived at my side, handing me my wine.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, we got talking.”
“Oh...what about?” I asked, gulping a large mouthful of wine. Greene took her glass from Carlton as he joined us.
“The ballistics report is back, and Cavendish was giving us the highlights.”
“Anything interesting?”
“In what?”
“The highlights.”
“No, much as expected.” He shrugged as if to emphasise just how unimportant it all was. Hmmm, I thought, catching Greene’s eye. “I’m going to get some cheese, do you want some?”
“No, but I think Carlton does. I’ll come over with you. You coming, Greene?”
We followed our men in their search for more food. There was a table with a selection of cheeses and a variety of crackers, and anything you could possibly want to go with them in the way of chutneys and fruit.
Carlton pulled up seats next to us for him and Greene. Leaning across, he raised a glass to us, and I was suddenly aware how much he’d been drinking as he turned to Trent and said, grinning, “So, do we get to call you Ezekiel from now on – or do you prefer Zeke?”
Trent scowled. “I think it’s probably safest for you, Carlton, if you stick to Trent.”
I thought back to the conversation we’d had about why he’d stopped using his first name. It was when we were on our way back from the registrar’s office, and he’d told me he’d hated his name when he was young. He’d thought Ezekiel Trent made him sound like a character out of a Dickens novel, and he’d got teased mercilessly at a school where he was surrounded by those with safe, traditional names like Charles, Henry and George. From then on he’d dropped the name, and anyone who mentioned it. It was a shame. I thought it was beautiful.
Trent turned to Carlton now and said, “Of course, you will have to call Emma by her new name.”
Carlton finished his mouthful of cheese, then, shaking his head, he said, “Oh I don’t think so. If we stick with tradition here, Mrs T just isn’t going to work. Makes her sound like an extra from The A Team.”
Trent glared at him and laughter broke out around us. I tried not to join in, but couldn’t help smiling broadly until Trent eventually succumbed along with the rest. “Okay...okay,” he sighed, conceeding with resignation, “guess it will have to stay as Grayson then.”
Our group began to expand. Tables were pulled together as more people joined us and others came and went, dancing, drinking, chatting. Some of the younger children, exhausted but refusing to admit it, flitted back and forth, torn between the lure of the older ones and the dance floor and the comfortable laps of their parents.
Once the port came out and started circulating it looked as if we were set in for the night. The band eventually finished and joined us, and music was left playing softly in the background.
I’d had enough to drink, having passed on the port, and was relaxed as I watched the children play, not realising how transfixed I was by them until I felt Trent squeezing my hand. It clearly hadn’t been the first time as I saw his look of concern. “You’re deep in thought.” And he looked over to the children embroiled in a massive game of British Bulldog, having roped in Turner among others. It was good to see him having fun. This was the last time we were going to be seeing him for a while.
I’d been spending more and more time with Turner – unintentionally. He’d started seeing a psychologist, talking through his problems. He’d taken to turning up at the stables whenever he had a spare moment, offering his help. I’d given him the odd job to do, but the more I gave him the more he wanted. I hadn’t noticed at first, the gradual creep – but Trent had. “He’s becoming overly attached to you,” he’d told me. I hadn’t seen it, but Turner, who’d booked himself into a residential centre for some intensive therapy, had.
“Are you all right?”
“More than.” I smiled as he grinned at my response.
“Good. I was thinking it was about time we got going.”
“Oh, I don’t want to break up the party.”
“We won’t, they’ll carry on long after we’ve left. Come on...it’s time for our honeymoon to start, and I thought we might go and get on with some of that cherishing we both promised,” he cajoled.
“Okay, shall we walk?”
“We’ll take the car. We’re not going to the stables.”
Oh? My stomach plummeted. “Where are we going?” My small voice sounded as miserable as I suddenly felt.
“Can’t tell you that, it’s a surprise. It’s only a couple of days, Emma, nothing grand. I thought you’d appreciate a break...” His voice tailed off, and I realised I needed to buck myself up. He wasn’t to know how this would affect me, the worries I would have about being separated from Susie.
Forcing a smile, I replied as cheerily as I could, “No, Trent, that will be great...absolutely great. Don’t I need to pack or something? I could pop back, throw a few things into a case...” I could at least say goodbye to her then.
“No need, it’s already done. Everything’s been taken care of.”
“But what about Susie?” I had to ask.
“Everything’s been taken care of,” he repeated.
“Oh.” I found myself looking for Greene, wondering if she knew what was going on.
“Emma...Emma,” he repeated, dragging my attention back to him.
“Yes?”
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust me...okay?”
“Okay,” I sighed. I couldn’t say any more. I knew he wouldn’t understand. He leant over to kiss me, then held out his hand for mine, pulling me to my feet as he announced we were leaving.
Our friends lined the way as we kissed and hugged each one on our way to the front door, where the Jaguar waited for us. The door closed, and in no time at all we were leaving our cheering friends behind as we drove off, hearing the rattling sound of tins being dragged as they bounced and spun off the road behind us.
As soon as we were hidden by the trees we stopped, and Trent, after removing the tins, pulled a scarf out from behind his seat, folding it over. Then he held it up and leant towards me. I realised he was intending to blindfold me.
“Really?” I exclaimed as he grinned.
“It will heighten the suspense,” he teased as he wrapped the scarf around my head and knotted it.
“Well it’s a fine time to tell me you’re into all that,” I muttered, smiling as I heard him laugh. The engine revved and we set off again. The blindfold was immediately disorientating, although I knew when we were passing the stables, my heart reaching out as I thought of the sad little dog waiting inside for me to return. It was only a couple of days, I reasoned. I should enjoy the spontaneity, but the truth was I didn’t. I just felt sick.
We travelled on, and I tried to imagine the road and where we might be going. I knew when we stopped at the main gate because I heard the gates opening and felt us driving through. I hoped we weren’t going too far, and that no one would spot us and think I was being kidnapped and call the police. I wondered where our cases were, and what had been packed and would it be suitable for where we were going. Trent’s hand came over and took mine, his thumb caressing the back of my hand, as soothing as his words.
“Stop stressing, Em, I can hear your worried thoughts from here. This is meant to be enjoyable.” And I could hear the smile in his voice. Maybe it is for you, I thought, a little unkindly.
As soon as we drove through the gates I was lost. I could no longer imagine the road before us. With no idea of where we were going, I could do nothing but sit back and fret. However, only a couple of minutes had passed before Trent loosened his hand on mine and I heard the gears change down as we slowed, turning then carrying on again. A little later we slowed again, turned into somewhere and came to a stop. Okay then, I thought, not too far away, and reaching up I began to take off the blindfold.
“Don’t,” said Trent, and I stopped. Anticipation grew as Trent got out of the car and came round to my side. He opened the door and he took my hand as he helped me out. There was a slight give in the ground beneath me as I stood up. The car door closed, and Trent led me forward a few steps. The night air was cool on my skin. I felt him reach up to the blindfold. “Ready?” His breath whispered hot against my cheek.
He gently pulled off the scarf and I blinked. Cascades of white fairy lights hung around and in between the trees on each side of the path ahead. Threading his fingers through mine, Trent led me up the path to the foot of the steps that wound around the tree until they reached the tree house. More lights were wrapped around the banister as we climbed the stairs. I could see all the shutters had been folded back from the windows, and I paused before we got to the top as I looked at the door sporting the new addition of the cat flap. My face broke into an enormous smile. “You knew.”
His head inclined slightly. “I knew...and you need to learn to trust me.” There was a disturbance within – a scuffling noise followed by a rattle, and a scruffy, patchy head appeared through the catflap, followed by the rest of Susie as she wiggled her way towards us, squirming for attention as I knelt to give it to her.
Trent leaned forward to open the door, and as I joined him on the top step he scooped me up into his arms and carried me into the tree house, Susie jumping around his feet. Putting me down, he still held me close, one hand on my waist, one in my hair tilting my face to his as our lips met, tender and sweet, my fingers running through his hair. The kiss deepened into something more, our need growing as our tongues met, briefly, fleetingly, and I pulled away, knowing if I didn’t we’d get no further than the kitchen, and that was not what I had planned for our wedding night.
Trent pushed the door closed, the room darkening to the level of light coming from the night sky as I said goodnight to Susie and she settled back into her bed. Then, taking my hand, he led me through to the bedroom. Opening the door, I gasped. The room was richly decorated in warm, comfortable colours, the bed dressed in deep crimson, with thick covers and plump pillows. More soft white fairy lights wound through the curlicues of the black ironwork of the bed, enough to give a glow to the room and nothing more. My picture of Eva sat on a small table next to the bed. The tops of the surrounding trees were silhouetted against a deep purple sky scattered with distant sparkles of light.
I turned to Trent as I nodded in understanding. “So this is the right time...”
“...For this place,” he finished, his eyes never leaving mine as he kicked off his shoes, his socks following.
“You knew this...even then?”
“Even then.” His jacket shrugged off, flung across a chair.
“Are you ever unsure about anything?”
“In matters concerning you?...No.” He unbuttoned his waistcoat, taking it off to join the jacket. I hadn’t moved and he now stepped closer, his hands reaching up to my shoulders. His thumbs easing the fabric over the curve of my shoulder as, with the barest movement from me, the dress fell, cascading down my body until it lay in a shimmering pool around my feet. I thanked Greene silently for being in charge of dressing me. I stood before him, high heels, stockings, suspenders, the briefest pair of pants I had ever owned and a plunging bra. I tried to look confident, feeling better when I saw his reaction - an exhaled breath of carnal appreciation.
He held out a hand to me and taking it, I stepped out of my dress and closer to where I could feel his heat, smell his scent. I kissed him softly, slowly, his tongue flicking across mine, teasing, tempting, and eager. Then ignoring his exhaled frustration I held him back from taking more as I unbuttoned his shirt, undid his cufflinks. My fingers trailing through the hair on his chest, then across his stomach, his skin soft over hard muscle, pulling his shirt out of his trousers then pushing it up, over his shoulders, and down his arms where it fell to the floor and moving closer I tasted his skin, my teeth grazing his nipple feeling his sharply inhaled breath as he stopped me.
Bringing my face to his he kissed me his arms closing around me as he unhooked my bra, letting it drop, his hands caressing my breasts followed by his lips, his tongue travelling across my body, licking, kissing, exploring, my skin tingling as anticipation built. He dropped to his knees before me reaching to take off first one shoe then the other, unhooking my stockings then peeling them off one by one, rolling them down my legs and casting them aside. Reaching round he undid the suspender belt sending it in the same direction then finally, slipping his fingers under the strings that barely held my pants together, he drew them slowly down my legs lavishing attention on the flesh revealed, his tongue hot, lambent, and driving me crazy.