Once Upon a Christmas Wedding

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Once Upon a Christmas Wedding Page 174

by Scarlett Scott


  The attendant gave a reassuring nod and smiled. “There’s many a remarkable thing in the classics. Horned Dionysus with his goat legs and all the nymphs who rush to please him. Gods turning into beasts to subdue maidens, or the wife of another man, even the wife of a king or god.”

  Georgie, nodded.

  “A gentlemen friend of mine likes to tell me that we have those stories to remind ourselves of our real natures. To remind and warn us of who we are under the guise of normal lives.”

  “He sounds quite knowledgeable.”

  She glowed as she talked about her friend. Georgie knew how she felt.

  “Have you studied any anthropology? Seen some of the artefacts of fertility.”

  Georgie nodded, “Yes. But surely those are ….” Large phalluses, bodies entwined, it had all seemed poetic not figurative. “An exaggeration?”

  The soft smile on the attendant’s face told her that it was not.

  “Are you looking for something for yourself or another?”

  Georgie tightened her grip on her purse. “I need to start at the beginning. My mother… she passed away when I was a girl…”

  “No aunt or sister to tell you things?”

  Georgie shook her head no. She suddenly felt gauche in her innocence. “My betrothed he…he’s a Petroski…perhaps you have read the columns?”

  The attendant gave a soft smile. “No time for reading for the likes of me miss. However, I take it you are speaking of a man of worldly experience?”

  Georgie nodded. “A Wolf of Hyde Park,” she whispered.

  There was no marked change in the attendant’s face except for the soft understanding in her eyes.

  “I am not what he wants…. I need to understand. Not be left in the dark.”

  “How basic would you like to start…?”

  Georgie looked about her, items in glass cabinets displayed a world she knew nothing about.

  A tightness settled around her throat. “From the very basics.” She stated as her purse was slowly being strangled between her hands.

  The angel reached out and placed a hand over hers “You have done the hardest thing, finding out about us and coming here. Don’t leave without what you came for.” She leaned in closer. “More women should come. More women should learn enough to ensure their own pleasure. Make sure you go to your wedding bed with anticipation and pleasure. Wolves aren’t half bad if you are prepared for them.”

  Georgie nodded. There would be no wolf for her, but she would ensure that she was no longer ignorant. The attendant was correct, she had done the hardest part by coming to the shop and down here to ask for what she wanted. Now for a few more leaps of courage. She released her hold on her purse, drew herself upright, shoulders back, she actually had many questions.

  “Kissing. I want to know everything from kissing to consummation and its various forms.” Her face flared but she did not drop her gaze from the attendant. “It does have various forms…?”

  “Yes. Many, many.” The girl grinned. “My name is Evie and I know exactly what you need.”

  A wave of reassurance washed through Georgie with a flurry of anticipation.

  “Let me get you some things to get you started,” Evie said.

  A tea service on a polished silver tray with some shortbreads was delivered by another young girl to a small Middle Eastern table inlaid with alternate woods next to where she sat.

  “Do people linger?” She asked the girl who poured her tea.

  “Oh yes Ma’am, especially if there are special orders to be designed, discussed or fitted.”

  “Special orders and fittings?”

  “We make many masks, chairs and St Andrew crosses, all too individual specifications.”

  Masks, chairs and crosses.

  The young girl leaned in, “There’s a secret party this week, all hush hush, but it has meant lots of orders. I helped sew the cat costumes in patent leather.” The young girl’s voice was full of pride.

  “Cats?” The idea of cats in leather was not something she was immediately able to resolve. “Not fur?”

  The girl grinned. “I’ll show you.” She walked behind the counter and went through a small curtain, disappeared for a moment then came back out with sheaths of paper and headed back to her as Miss Evie also returned, having spent her time going through the picture boxes on the tables.

  “Here you go Miss, the girl handed over the parchments as Miss Evie sat opposite her. Georgie took the sheaths and stared at drawings of a sleek formfitting suit, mask with cat ears and tail. It was scandalous, showed the woman’s form with no consideration for modesty and yet was undoubtedly shockingly erotic.

  She coughed. “Men enjoy this?”

  The two shop attendants were still for a moment then answered in unison.

  “Yes.” They both grinned.

  Miss Evie took the papers from Georgie’s hand and handed them back to the girl. “Thank you, Beth.”

  “I hope I didn’t offend you Miss, I simply thought to share,” Beth said in a rush.

  Georgie waved her hand, “Not at all. It’s simply all new to me.”

  The young girl bobbed a curtsy and went back behind the counter and the curtain. “Beth should have known better, she’s very proud of working on the costumes.”

  “Is that a regular thing…?”

  Miss Evie smiled and shook her head no, “An unusual request.”

  Georgie took in a deep breath.

  Evie had come back with a small handful of postcards and a small book. “I have a few things that are best to start with.” She placed a picture of a naked man on the small table. Georgie didn’t know where to look.

  A small hand came over her gloved one. “Miss if you want to know, you will have to look.”

  Heat burned Georgie’s cheeks. “I feel foolish.”

  The hand over hers squeezed. “There are things that still surprise me, and I have worked here for many years, have been married and have a fella. No one knows everything Miss. We all have to face the basics and our feelings as we do.”

  Georgie lifted her gaze to the beautiful attendant and gave her a small smile.

  “See that’s better, you were brave enough to get here, let’s look at them together and I’ll tell you as much as you like.”

  Georgie nodded, then cast her gaze down to the table and the first photograph.

  The image showed the man aroused. Georgie glanced down and was unable to look away…from the appendage.

  She swallowed. “A hand-span would you say?”

  “On average,” the angel smiled, “But as with us women, they come in all sizes.”

  “You mean…?” Georgie looked purposefully to her lap.

  The angel nodded. “Yes. I have a more detailed image if you’d like to see some, they’ll show the genitals more specifically.”

  Did she really want to have images of a range of female and male genitalia in her mind? She wouldn’t be able to walk down the street without wondering which type went with which face. Balls and banquets would never be the same again.

  Georgie rapidly shook her head no. “What about kissing or touching?” she asked of the attendant instead. That seemed much safer to start with.

  “Wait a moment.” The angel went over to the boxes and come back. “These are termed more art pictures as they are less graphic. She placed down images of couples kissing.

  Last night at the salon with Demetri, she had wanted him to kiss her. The closeness of his body warmed hers, made her aware of sensations and aches in places that clearly wanted to be touched. “I like this one.” She said shyly, peeking up at the attendant who grinned back at her.

  “So do I.”

  After a good hour and a half of educational exploration and discussion, Georgie made her way up the stairs, through the pivoting bookcase and into the bookshop above. The Manager did not make eye contact as she left, a discretion she appreciated.

  The bell rang discordant as she left The Bond Street Bookshop and hailed a
cab back home. She had a head full of much needed knowledge and more importantly she no longer felt so awkwardly at her lack of knowing even rudimentary facts about intimacies. A growing sense of empowerment pulsed through her and which she fully intended to build upon with the handful of pornographic photo plates, neatly wrapped, tied and nestled deep in her purse.

  Part II

  The Journey

  Chapter 12

  The Journey started two days later with a sea crossing to Calais.

  Georgie’s gloved hands held tightly to the rail, the wind light and filled with sunshine while sea gulls screeched overhead. Around her couples, families and singles promenaded the deck. Many were at the rail on the other side watching as the ropes were released and waving to those below who had come to say their goodbyes. Georgie closed her eyes and pressed her face into the wind.

  “The passage should be calm.” Her father said from beside her. Georgie opened her eyes and looked sideways at him. The anger she’d felt towards him was now only irritation.

  The ship’s horn sounded their departure, a single note like a giant baritone saxophone sending billowing steam tumbling above the deck as turbines churned underneath and the ship pulled away from the dock.

  “I still think this is a bad idea.” She glanced over her shoulder confirming they were alone. “I have no intention of marrying the Prince. Making this journey is pointless and misleading given my intention to call off the betrothal.” They’d been over this many times in the last couple of days. She really had no idea why he was so insistent on making the journey. They could just as easily have bought the time he needed staying in London, and yet he had been adamant the travel plans be upheld.

  “Shh, shh, it will all work out. Demetri said the Prince may join us in Paris, so plenty of time to get to know each other and make your final decision.” He patted her hand as it held the rail.

  The scowl she gave him was pointless. “It’s far too late. And, the Prince has no intention of showing up in Paris.”

  Her father drew a sheet of folded newspaper from his inside jacket pocket and handed it to her.

  The gossip column of course. Two items were circled. The first read:

  And so, London says goodbye to the much enjoyed Petroski brothers.

  “Why isn’t he with us then?” Georgie demanded as she read the second item circled.

  Russian bars sprouting up in Bath.

  “What are you up to?” Georgie asked her father when she handed back the paper.

  “He could have alighted the boat incognito.” Her father glanced around. “He could in fact be mesmerized by the very sight of you as we speak.”

  Georgie rolled her eyes. “As if one look is going to change his mind, he has had miniatures of me for years. If he liked what he saw, we wouldn’t be in this position.”

  Her father tucked the paper back into his breast pocket and tapped it in that manner he used when he was pleased about something.

  “I knew the moment I saw your mother.”

  The moment they saw each other. Perhaps if she were honest the real reason was her own trepidation at spending so much time with a certain person. There was no pretending her body and mind weren’t sent into chaos whenever he was around.

  She glanced over at Demetri talking to the bursar, his stance and mannerisms relaxed and yet exuding authority. There was a certain sovereignty that came from station and this man had that in spades. He looked regal even though he was ordering blankets and refreshments because she wanted to stay on deck. He’d not blinked, had immediately set about securing their place on the coveted deck chairs with small side tables established for that purpose. As if a thread connected them, he turned. Their gazes caught and just like that, her body was alight with sensations, a warm delicious buzz vibrating under the surface of her skin.

  However, she was betrothed to his brother, a Wolf of Hyde Park, not the position a woman wanted to be in when she had found the man who captivated her was said wolf’s brother.

  Next to her, her father made a show of looking around as if he was going to spot an incognito Prince and all would be well.

  “I’ll not marry him.”

  Her father patted her hand. “I am sure you will like him just fine. You like Demetri, don’t you?” He glanced over at Demetri making his way back to them.

  She moved her hand away. “Just because I like Demetri doesn’t mean I will like his brother.”

  “Your mother always said, ‘Love is a crooked path’.”

  “I don’t see how that pertains to my situation.”

  “I am working on things from my side, caviar and vodka.” He patted his breast pocket.

  “What if your funds don’t come through in time? I will be annulling the betrothal as soon as I meet the Prince.”

  He gave her a wink.

  Her father never believed in ‘what if’s’, he worked with what was happening around him. There had been feast and famine over the years, yet they had always had staff and a fine house.

  General Demetri strode over to them making her breath catch. Georgie quickly turned back to the coastline. She’d dreaded and hankered for the time they would spend together on this trip. Was that really so wrong given the betrothal to his brother? She knew she had no intention of going ahead with the marriage and yet Demetri didn’t know that. He had made it clear they wanted the betrothal broken and here she was acting as if she wouldn’t let it go. What must he think of her?

  “I have secured a location.” Demetri gave her a slight bow and offered his arm. Her father said something about seeing someone from the club he had business with, nodded to Demetri and whisked away below deck. She slipped her hand through the crook of Demetri’s arm and his gloved hand came overs hers. Walking like this, arm in arm, her chest full of flurries, was how she’d imagined it would be with her betrothed. As a young girl… as a woman, she’d dreamed of how they would be together, of how he would make her feel. This was how she’d imaged it, exactly this.

  The location he’d secured was perfect. Demetri picked up the lap blanket and motioned her to the seat. Blanket open he bent over her and placed it on her lap. Lips, cheeks, chin were a hand’s span away, eyes hooded as his very masculine hands pressed the blanket under her thighs. Her breath froze. Her skin flamed.

  “Warm enough?” his deep voice asked as he rose from the task, eyes a luminous luster that flipped her stomach.

  Her face warmed, “Yes, thank you.” Heaven help her, this man made her utterly defenseless.

  Demetri settled himself in the deck chair next to her laying a blanket loosely over his knees.

  They turned and faced each other at the same time.

  “Being out in the sunshine suits you. There is a very attractive flush on her your cheeks.”

  Her gaze dropped then lifted back up to his, the pleasure making her shy. The slightest shift in his mouth suggested a smile, his eyes creasing as she fanned her face.

  “Snug?” he asked.

  “Yes,” came out all breathy. Heaven help her. She rolled her eyes, then laughed. He knew how he affected her, and he liked it; he knew she knew he knew. Her eyes lifted again.

  “Stop looking.”

  He grinned and she was lost. “As you wish.” Yet he didn’t look away.

  She laughed again lightness in her chest and looked out over the water, eventually saved from the burning awareness he generated when the refreshments arrived.

  Chapter 13

  They had arrived in Paris earlier in the evening and dined at the hotel, an architectural delight reflecting the fashionable Belle Époque with lavish decorations, a full grand piano in the foyer, and a trio of men singing hymns and carols. Demetri announced he had business to attend to and excused himself. Her father had gone out as well, muttering about caviar and vodka. Maria, who travelled with them, attended her as they walked some of the streets around the hotel which were full of shop windows bursting with Christmas decorations and luring passersby to buy gifts to take home to fa
mily, friends and loved ones. Unable to settle and sleep, Georgie sat in the private parlor Demetri had booked for them. She’d heard her father return down the hall and had let Maria retire.

  The fire flickered burnished amber shadows across the postcard making the figures in it look animated. It was perhaps the most rudimentary of the post cards she’d bought at The Velvet Basement, but it was the one that most easily represented how ill prepared she was to win a man. The one thing she could thank her betrothed for was that he’d opened her eyes to what men wanted, what they liked from women. He was apparently a man who’d taken two women in a Parisian gallery while opening night speeches were delivered in the room next door. Her visit to the Salons had revealed so much more, most notably her ignorance.

  Georgie leaned closer and gazed intently at the image, two faces, a man and a woman, they were open mouthed, tongues not simply touching but entangled. Even now having looked countless times, her body warmed… it wanted what they had.

  Yet her mind grappled.

  Why would two people do that? Was that a special kind of kiss? Was it one of those forbidden things or was it expected? She had witnessed many kisses, but usually husbands kissed their wives on the cheek. Although she was not so naïve that she did not know they would kiss on the lips when alone, in intimate moments, the question was did they use their tongues? She had seen servants press their mouths together and move their heads, had they too touched each other’s tongues?

  A distinctly male cough sounded behind her making fire raced under her skin. She twisted around in her chair pressing the postcard to her chest.

  “Georgie, is something wrong?”

  Demetri stood jacket removed, his white shirt open at the neck.

  She shook her head no, as her eyes gobbled the sight of him up and her face heated.

  His gaze dropped to what she had clutched to her chest.

  “I was just heading back to bed. Too much excitement at finally being underway, I guess.” She moved her hand with the photo plate behind her back as she stood. “I am sorry to have disturbed you. Goodnight Demetri, thank you for your care today.”

 

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