HUBRIS - DONE
“Hello?”
Instantly a burst of static erupted from the yellowish-brown plastic box attached to the wall beside my bed, or what served as mine for the time being before a voice cracked through.
“Good day Miss Carrington, how may I help you?”
Good day my ass! I had no idea who was on the other side of the device and I didn’t particularly care.
“Yes, you can start by telling me how long I’m gonna be trippin’ all over these mobsters stationed all over the halls… the whole damn estate...”
There was a brief pause, translating maybe… if I wasn’t annoyed, I might have laughed.
“The guards, miss?”
I wrinkled my nose and glared as if the poor messenger on the other end could see. “Yes, the guards… who else?”
But why I was so livid was anyone’s guess. It wasn’t that they were doing anything particularly intrusive. It was just that I knew they were there. And I knew what they were for. Keeping me in. Officially locked down. There wasn’t even any pretense about the effort to force my stay at KM at this point. And I didn’t like it. Although, again, the level of my animosity did not exactly add up to the efforts I had made in trying to ‘escape’. In all honesty, I’d done very little to find a way to leave. Nope, that was a lie. I hadn’t done a damn thing. I hadn’t even gone searching for that garage I expected to find the whole flight to England. I’d simply fallen into a routine of drinking, smoking, catching some rays, and finding a raging good time dancing about whenever the mood struck me. Sometimes with some of the other students and other times by my own damned self.
But now, actual guards were ensuring that should I have tried to make my escape, finally, my efforts would have been thwarted in no uncertain terms. All in the guise of s-
“They are here for your safety, miss…”
My nostrils flared and I growled out loud. Not that they could hear me without my first pushing the talk button. But still. The room heard me, and those creepy-ass peacocks painted in the mural on one wall heard me.
“Will there be anything else, miss?”
“No” I bit out irritably but quickly reopened the com, “Yes… will you have someone ring for my mom… and inform me when you have her on the line…”
“Certainly, miss. Will you remain in your suites until then?”
I thought about that for a moment, glancing around the empty, isolated room. It didn’t take longer than that to decide.
“No… you will be able to find me in the billiards room…”
“Of course, miss.”
With that decided, I slipped out and mentally tampered down my visceral reaction to the guard that seemed to be patrolling the hallway where some of our suites were located. The billiards room was empty when I arrived, but it was only half-past twelve… and there was no telling how late others partied in each other’s rooms the night before. Or other parts of the mansion. There were still places we were all finding even after a month in residence.
At any rate, with the place to myself, I popped in one of the many VHS tapes, scooped up a bag of chips from the supply closet, and curled up on the sofa, draping a rather plush oversized throw over my limbs, biding my time until mom was tracked down.
Not thirty minutes in, the sound of someone entering turned my head and a genuine smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. The fact that his eyes rolled and cutaway made me arch a brow. But he made no effort to say anything, simply moved to the bar area and stretched over the top to grab up whichever bottle he put his hands on first. I twisted around, draping an arm over the back, and watched him.
“Good morning to you too…”
“Smashing…”
Silence ensued. I frowned.
“Max, is everything alright? Did you get some bad news about your grandmother?”
His eyes narrowed as he cast a look in my direction. Annoyance maybe… bitterness perhaps. I was not certain but, clearly, he was bothered about something. But instead of offering up any explanation he tilted the bottle back and poured a hefty portion down his throat.
“Everything’s bloody brilliant…” By that snide tone, I guessed that wasn’t quite what he meant. I rose and started to move towards him only to have him give what seemed to be an incredibly loathsome sigh and mumble “Bollocks… what is it with you yanks...?”
The hint of animosity in his tone surprised me, I won’t lie. I froze and stared as if the man had grown a whole new limb. What the hell was into him that day?
“Excuse me?”
“Americans…” I could literally describe his tone as a definite sneer. “It must surely somehow be my fault this need you have to be involved… as if your being here makes you important…”
My eyes widened more, I’m sure of it. Where the hell was all this coming from?
“I simply am asking if everything is alright…”
“That’s certainly one way of looking at it…”
“What other way is there?” He waved a hand dismissively and went back to drinking from his bottle. “Yeah… okay… well fuck you too Max…” I spit out bitterly wondering what the hell had just happened and not at all appreciating his attitude.
“Bit of a pickle, innit?” I arched a brow, the most I was willing to do to encourage him to continue. I could care less. Or so I was telling myself. But when he didn’t continue and basically seemed to ignore me completely, I finally demanded to know…
“When you yanks realize that the world doesn’t actually revolve around you, that you can’t in fact, have whatever you want… terribly pretentious, in all honesty. But what exactly could I expect from a Colonial…”
“Are you calling me self-centered…?” I mean, he was. There really was no question about it really, but for some reason, I couldn’t help but seek clarification.
“Oh… smashing, you haven’t quite lost the plot…”
And while I wasn’t exactly sure of the words themselves, I was completely certain that it was indeed sarcasm. I drew myself up taller, squaring my shoulders, vehement words circling in my head ready to spew from my lips…
“erghhmm… Miss. Carrington…” Both of us turned at the sudden intrusion. “We have your mother on the line…”
“um… thank you Berdam, I shall be there straight away…”
My gaze shifted back to him and all my rage from moments ago just dissipated. His eyes looked sullen and he sounded completely apathetic when he interrupted the silence that ensued after the servant moved out of the room.
“Bugger off Becky… back to mommy… back to America… you couldn’t possibly fit in here with us… you aren’t one of us…”
“You know nothing about me…”
“I know you don’t belong here…”
I just rolled my eyes and left. But it wouldn’t be the last time I would think about that conversation.
Just two days later, I found myself eyeing myself in the mirror. There I stood, dressed in my ‘Sunday-Best’, hair ironed and held in a prim pony, with even one of those ridiculously proper pearl-handled bags mother was always so fanatical about. Lady Vivian Carrington would likely have a tear in her eye if she could have seen the sight. But none of this had been for her. Hell, it definitely hadn’t been for me. I tugged at the stupid blazer and rolled my eyes at its restriction. No, this had been for one purpose and one purpose only. It was all so that I could thumb my nose at that fucking royal jerk. He thought I would tuck tail and hide no doubt. With his arrogant condemnation, trying to make me feel less than as if that could happen. But I was absolutely certain that I could be anything I wanted to be. Any time. Even playing the role of some snobby Brit aristocrat. He was right about one thing. American pride coursed through my veins… and if that was a problem for him, well tough shit…
CRACKED - DONE
With classes unendingly canceled and our continued lockdown, many of the students were creatively concocting ways to be entertained. And thanks to Max’s bad attitude, I made my way to his sister’s haughty Tea Party as if I were the Queen Mother myself. All those ultra-boring etiquette lessons and decorum drills I’d suffered through growing up would finally pay off today.
I arrived fashionably late so many people were already spread between the salon and the patio adjacent. Stylish, dapper looks filled the area as people mingled between themselves. Buffet tables lined the east and north side of the room. One covered with savory plus sweet treats parceled between elaborate centerpieces filled with fragrant, beautifully displayed jasmine and lavender flowers. The other held multiple tea kettles with what appeared to be a variety of sweet, tangy, and rich brews. Or at least, on the surface. Elizabeth had gone all out.
But as I moved into the throng, I started to notice the peculiar behavior of some of my classmates. Confusion, highly animated laughter, the strangest most random conversations. There was one girl flopped back on a sofa, her legs spread so that her fancy tea skirt dipped between them in a very unladylike fashion… while her head lolled from side to side looking up at the ceiling. I followed her gaze to an overhead fan, spinning slowly to keep the room cool. Another, a guy, stood at the archway leading to outside stuffing a handful of potato chips down his throat. Where he obtained the chips, I have no idea… but there he was, enthusiastically grinning and chewing. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why he obtained the bag though. I certainly had little trouble speculating a theory…
“Beeeckks..” I stumbled slightly as a body clumsily barged against mine, his arm quickly draped over one shoulder while he held an offering in his other palm. I froze as if the hand of Satan had reached up and grabbed to pull me into the pits of hell… “You came… bloody brilliant…” I tried to resist swaying from sluggish lean, “I didn’t know you would, mate… Wow… look at you… ohh, here taste this… it's quite yummy.”
Let’s be clear… I stared at the little saucer full of what looked to be brownies and crumpets as if a snake were literally crawling out from under them.
But before I could utter a word the small plate was pushed into my hands and Max was off to the next thing, leaving me standing there staring after him in utter bewilderment. The man was utterly anticlimactic!
It took me a moment to overcome my shock, but my confusion lingered as I took a few more steps into the party before I heard a couple of voices chuckle as if sharing a private joke.
“Such lightweights…” Whoever had spoken was hidden on the opposite side of a partition that would give a better view of the gathering on the patio rather than inside the salon. Without hesitation, I slipped around and drew the notice of two males, each leaning lazily against a wall in the process of passing a gold inlaid flask between them. One’s gaze shifted and assessed, drifting down and ever so slowly back up as he checked me out, his expression turning increasingly more provocative by the second as he lifted the flask he now held and tipped it against his smugly grinning lips. The other, quickly popped and chewed a savory petits fours as he also did a leisurely glance over me with far less… what the hell should I even call what the other was doing? A far less stimulating look, less taunting… less wicked? I tried to ignore the tingle that trailed down my spine, chiding myself that I was likely imagining or exaggerating all of it due to my own late-at-night fantasy trips. In the last month, my dreams had become lewder and lewder… and always fixated between one specific new face or another.
I was beginning to think that abstinence was not a great look on me.
“Well, well… look who is Miss High Society today…”
I snorted, he smirked, I rolled my eyes and spit out “Shut up…”
“I didn’t even say anything…”
“You thought it…”
“ohh… moved up from stalking to reading my mind now…”
A choked laugh erupted beside him, “Stalking? Thought what?”
I pressed my lips together glancing to the other man, as tall and good looking as Ed, but a bit more carefree in that moment, rather than… never mind… I refused to acknowledge my thoughts about the blue-eyed dream devil at that moment. I did not recognize this other man at all but I did know that a few new students arrived that day.
“Clearly someone has had too much of the party favors today…” I mutter to the stranger as I waved the plate of edibles I still held before them. I was no fool to not see the signs all over the place. Ed smirked again before taking another swig while the other man was sure to correct my accusation.
“Not this one, being a right bloody knob today…”
I arched a brow, from one guy to the other. The look on Ed’s face confirmed the words but didn’t really explain anything. Like, specifically, why? I knew for a fact that Ed smoked. The memory of his pressing the joint to his lips flashed in my head. And I cleared my throat.
“So… can’t blame the snacks on why you are stalking him…”
I wrinkled my nose, then remembered the role I was meant to be playing today and thinned my lips in a manner I imagined my mother looking when she was at her most disdainful while glancing to the newcomer again. “Your friend is mistaken…”
“Oh, that’s quite good actually. If I didn’t know better, I might have even believed it!”
The struggle not to glare at Ed was oh so real. But I wouldn’t, I was determined to ignore him. So instead focused solely on the friend… urging my composure to remain stiff and haughty. “I’m sorry, I do not believe that we have made acquaintances…”
But when the guy opened his mouth, before a word could escape, another chuckle was added from Ed, followed by his deep voice filling the void…
“Allow me…”
And unintentionally I looked when he pushed off the wall and took two steps closer to me. Suddenly, I was suffocating in the scent of him, sandalwood, and soap. That cheeky grin of his on full display, the same fucking grin he had given to the kitchen staff the night he arrived sneakily through the locked door. I clutched my purse like any good proper English lady should when surrounded by wickedness… yet inside my pulse was racing madly. Tingles ripped from the top of my spine to the very core of my being. The real me considered stretching up on my tiptoes purring something incredibly indecent in his ear. But I was playing a role today… right… I mean, sure… that damned Max was apparently too high to appreciate that I was there to snub him… but still!
“Mister Eli Whitby, my dearest chum… this is my new American friend… Beeckky…”
I had been right, that first night. My name was a weapon on his lips. It was a purr, as smooth as silk, soft as cashmere. My stomach flipped. This was getting ridiculous in all honesty.
“My name is Reb…”
“Shh… allow me… it’s truly my pleasure…” He leaned close and hissed entirely too close to my ear. I ground down on my teeth hard. Not because I was willing really for him to speak for me, but, because I definitely did not want to sigh or worse, moan, for them to overhear. His friend, Eli, for someone who had apparently been indulging in the party fare, seemed quite alert and focused. “My new friend here, Becky… Rebeca Carrington… and I have engaged in a bit of a friendly competition since our mutual arrival here at Kensington Manor.”
“A competition? What’s the wager?”
Why was Eli’s interest piqued? And why was Ed even sharing this stupid thing between us?
“Would you care for another pastry, Mister Whitby?” I thrust the plate I held forward. Eli smirked, so similarly to the expression Ed currently wore. I was not going to be able to keep up this ruse.
“Bollocks, I’m not 50 you know… Eli is perfectly fine…” he stated while slipping the crumpet off my plate and popping it whole into his mouth. “So… out with it… we’re all friends here now aren’t we…?”
“It’s nothing at all...”
“Oh… I wouldn’t call it nothing…"
“It’s nothing! Just stupid shit people say when they’re…” there was an unmistakable pause as my demeanor cracked a little… “chatting…”
“Must have been some chat…” Eli spoke, Ed smugly grinned… “to end in a challenge... what’s the prize?”
“You know, I do believe we haven’t officially picked one yet...” Ed said with such false wonder that I grabbed and stuffed nearly half the brownie into my mouth to keep from saying something snarky. Oh, I should have known better... “but after this little meet and greet here today, I appear to be up by one point... and of course, she assures me that whatever it is will be quite climactic...”
Character broken. I fucking cracked under pressure. I laughed. Leading to me choking... tiny crumbles of brownie spitting from my lips in the most ungraceful way imaginable. And I coughed and shook my head when they each stepped forward to pat me on the back. Then I glared at Ed, who was grinning like the most devilish choir boy you might ever meet. Which only made me snort at his cheekiness, leading to laughing again.
“You’re a fucking asshole...”
“My word... what a little potty mouth young lady!” His fringed shock was just too much. “Well, you tried... A-for-effort and all that, jolly good show at that whole society thing...”
I turned to Eli, who seemed to be watching me with some sort of curiosity as if he were trying to figure something out. Not that I could figure out what he was thinking. Likely, it was just the pot that had him zoning in on some random thing.
“It was nice to meet you Eli... and since I do not particularly like your friend at the present moment, I will leave you to him...”
Ed laughed as Eli reciprocated, assuring me that we would see each other again soon before I started to stride away.
“Two to one Becky!” I heard from behind me, leading me to growl and extend my stride in a very unladylike fashion from the scene of that debacle.
EXPOSED - DONE
I had never been much of an actor. Sure, I was relatively good at keeping secrets, but straight-up lying? Pretending to be something I was not? Not so much. I was me, and honestly, I was damn proud of being me. So why I had gotten it into my head to go all ritzy-ditzy snob-ella at that tea party the previous week I would never be able to explain to myself. Perhaps, if it weren’t for Ed and Eli, I may have achieved whatever goal I had set for myself for that day and gotten out before... well... all that. But noooo... I had to waltz my ass over to where they were. Letting ‘him’ get one over on me. Urgh... oh well. Que sera...
I was not someone that sat around fretting over regret. You live, you learn. That was my favorite motto. Shit happens, you win some you lose some, I could go on all day. But the thoughts were only rolling through my head because it was taking a painstakingly long time to finish up my costume for Heath’s gathering. That one right there, Heath... well, he was a brother to my soul. One only need listen periodically to know that he was Mister Adventure Spirit. And his anything but clothes party was right up my proverbial dark alley.
“Okay... it’s dry... just adding the tribal jewels and the leaf sarong now...”
Seconds... minutes ticked away as Rafael, the artist that one of the guards had been paid handsomely to smuggle into the manor applied the final touches. My pulse raced excitedly but I was really trying to contain it until I could see the full results. I could say without a doubt that my arms and legs looked fantastic! Then he was done, and I was grinning, rushing towards the mirror then giggling mischievously.
This was definitely a far stretch from my tea party attire. I noticed Rafael’s face through the mirror, turned, and started thanking him profusely.
“You like then...?”
“Are you kidding? I love it!” I laughed again and wiggled a bit to ensure that the bit covers stay secure even though for added security body tape had been applied under the paint at my most private areas. “And the paint won't smudge... if like I brush up against someone?”
He shook his head, “no smudging, no cracking. You will need to use a bit of mild dish soap to remove it when you are ready but it should last you at least the day without cracking...”
I stroked a finger across the furry-looking stripes the man drew across my skin, head to toe and there was a fine shimmer of translucent glitter that made the look glow. My hair brushed and tugged into a wild unkempt display, added an air of animalistic savagery that really could not be denied. There was no end to the wicked satisfaction I got at my audacity.
I paid him a hefty amount, doubling what I initially offered to a chorus of profuse gratefulness before I could escape and make my way... again... late, to the party.
And once again, there was a crowd of people already packed in the room, one of the many libraries at the school. And there were many insanely creative looks but honestly, I had to admit... and maybe a few others would as well, but mine was likely the wildest. Definitely the most daring. Outlandish. Sinful.
At one point, Heath even wandered over, determined to call me out for showing up clothed until finally realizing just how unclothed I actually was and yelling with impressed laughter before he took himself off to mingle through his crowd.
Drinks were flowing, music was buzzing, party games were going off in different parts of the room. Time passed, how long exactly was anyone’s guess. But certainly, long enough that I had a couple of drinks, a few dances, and a couple of pointed advances from two male students in attendance. Easily overlooked with a friendly but firm refusal.
“Very well... I concede one point...”
Immediately, my pulse raced, and I bit on my bottom lip lightly while a grin tugged at the corner of my lip. I did not turn, but I could feel his body heat radiating down the length of my back. It was obvious to me that my breath had been anticipating this exact moment to become shallow and erratic.
“Is that right?”
Suddenly, the very tip of two right fingers ever so delicately brushed along the side of my arm. Goosebumps prickled in the flow of his movement. I got the feeling he was testing for himself... verifying firsthand what he already knew to be true.
“Umm-hmm, very strategic of you...”
“You caught that did you?”
“I’ve been told I’m a bright boy a time or two.”
I smirked, still unable to view his face but knowing without a doubt that his eyes were on me. I had made absolutely sure to only speak to those that came up to me so far that evening. Refusing to even make eye contact with anyone that was not directly in front of me. Lucky for me, quite a few were interested in coming closer, much like Edward, seeking only to confirm for themselves that I was indeed, actually, quite naked except for an elaborate African necklace and a small splattering of strategically placed leaves at my pelvis.
“Should’ve known you’d end up somewhere with such a lovely view...” At that, I did turn my head more, catching the tail end of Eli’s gaze rising before making eye contact. He did a double-take, but then again, so did I. “Oh, Becky?”
I grinned, twisting around more now and assessing both bare-chested men with much appreciation. “Evening Eli...”
I was certain that he was shocked though he was incredibly quick at covering it up, shifting into charmer mode in a matter of seconds. It was like they were twins from another mother. “Well, this is a surprise...”
“It honestly is...” Ed chimed in, my gaze cutting to him. “...though I’m not so certain it should be... but it is... Definitely not what I expected.”
The coordinating caution tape-beer box short combo they wore was not at all what I might have expected from them either.
“Well, I thought about using the Uno deck, but then got all twisted around and kept having to skip and reverse spaces... and, like... what if people started trying to draw four?” I sighed dramatically, pretending to be so taxed about the whole ordeal... “was easier to just start where it could have ended anyway...”
“very big-brained of you...who knew such logic existed across the pond...”
“like... totally... seemed like the brightest light shined down on me at that moment!”
“Oh, I don’t know, feel like it's more of your English practicality shining through if you ask me...” The smirk I had given Ed changed once Eli joined the conversation, my eyes turning far more skeptical when I looked back to the latter. It was not lost on me either that Ed was staring at his friend with what could only be classified as confusion. “hard to escape the sharp wit inherited from a nob, or so I’ve heard.”
I’d heard the term enough times from other students since arriving in England and thought I understood what it meant. But how Eli could know anything about my noble connection was beyond me. Not one other person had indicated any knowledge of that fact, seeming to be... perhaps not fully, but accepting enough that I was some rich American heiress. It must have just been some weird British saying.
“This hellishous kitty?” Ed chuckled, shaking his head... “all that fiery spirit could never be British made...”
“I don’t know... I’m sure she can be quite Frosty if she wants... what do you think Becky?”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood tall. He knew. I had no idea how he knew, but he did. The reference was too on the nose to not be calculated.
“Why on earth would I ever want to be?” I laughed, playing off my sudden jolt of nerves. I mean, it wasn’t really that big of a deal was it? But I did feel a certain way about him knowing something that I saw no reason to share with anyone. “I definitely would prefer playing with fire than in the snow.”
Eli was the one now smirking, obviously smarting with the knowledge that he knew something Ed so obviously did not. Ed on the other hand... was something else entirely, making me forget momentarily my concerned curiosity about Eli’s perception.
He, Ed that is, stepped even closer, leaned in to speak in a tone that seemed to only carry between the three of us. “Do you...? Do you play just until you are singed, or do you go for the full burn?”
The fact that a fit pectoral continued to bump against me only added fuel to his words. I licked my lips while staring at his through hooded lashes. “Well, I’ve found that it’s hard to think rationally when danger strikes...”
“And are you typically the match or the tinder...”
It was Eli’s voice, Ed continued to watch me, but I finally dragged my gaze away, reluctantly, grinning lightheartedly. Breaking the spell of whatever wickedness was at play inside me. I was, I knew, trying to tamper down the wanton thoughts running amok in my head.
“Either... both... depends really I suppose on one’s mood... the time, the place, the situation... the person.”
Somewhat luckily, there was another thing I could focus on other than my all to obvious interest in Ed’s flirting. Though, if I were really being perceptive, I might have noticed how much farther he pushed things when his buddy was around. But for now, I was much more curious how said buddy found out the information he had about me.
I lingered a bit longer, choosing my words with a bit more calculation before we all went our separate ways with Ed hinting at a future rendezvous to continue our discussion about the joys of building fires.
There was only one place I could think of, at that moment, that could offer perhaps some understanding. I was certain that only Irving had any knowledge about grandfather... and only knew because he had been forced to deal with my mother directly. So, I decided that he must have the answers that I seemed to need... right that particular minute. Not tomorrow, or the next day... right then.
In minutes, I was knocking urgently upon then barely waiting half a second once he uttered a “yes?” through the closed door of his study.
“Rebeca!” he stood immediately, eyes widening as I barged across the room and slapped both my palms upon his desk, leaning forward with a steady gaze on him.
“Did you tell anyone about grandfather?”
In my effort to get answers, I solely assumed his look of shock was due to my abrupt manner and unexpected question. But his look changed slightly, brows furrowed differently if that were a thing. More confused than shocked... I would think later that there was definitely a distinction.
“Your grandfather?” He asked, still staring. No. Not really staring. Looking past me, over my shoulder perhaps. I frowned.
“Yes, mine... who’s else would I wonder about?”
Something flickered in his eyes as he shot it back towards me. Then down. Then back off to the left of my shoulder as if a rattlesnake were about to strike.
“What the hell are you wearing?”
That drew me up. Literally. I stood straighter, glanced down, then smirked. I had forgotten.
“Paint...”
“Paint?”
“Yes, you know, the stuff they use to make artwo-“
“I know what paint is” He hissed. “What I don’t know is why it is what you are wearing. Why it is the only thing that you are wearing...”
“I have some leaves too...” I corrected and even reached down to flip one particularly bright yellow one at my hip. He grimaced, looking incredibly severe... or rather, and more so restrained. As a gambling girl, I was nearly certain of the odds that it took a supreme effort for him not to look back at me. But somehow, his resistance was strong. Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part that wanted to believe it was a troublesome endeavor.
“You will go wash it off this moment and find something more appropriate to wear around the manor...”
A long silence stretched between us. I thought about it, the instruction, the chiding really. Speaking to me as he might a small child. Sounding particularly stuffy and uptight. And perhaps the way his jaw flexed as he continued to avoid glancing at me was an indication of his indignation because I continued to test his authority over me. But then again... maybe it was something else entirely...
“Or maybe you can get it off me...?” Instantly, he looked back. His gaze shifting, dropping, I was certain reluctantly... trailing lower... lower as I continued speaking. “There are these little bits of tape though... you’d have to be incredibly gentle with them... uber sensitive bits underneath...” Each scathing inch prickled my nerves and set my skin aflame.
“You’re playing with fire...”
“Second time I’ve had that pointed out to me today...” though, to be fair... Irving did not say with even half the wicked teasing Ed had. With Irving, it was a warning. Pure danger. Whether for him or me... perhaps both, I could not be sure.
“I’ve not shared any information about your grandfather with anyone Miss Carrington...”
I sighed. I couldn’t help it. Was this relief, disappointment, or acceptance that I felt? He did not want to engage, changed the subject completely... returned to a more formal greeting. He also was not responsible for Eli’s unexpected knowledge of my family history. I mean, I suppose learning who my mother was wouldn’t take too much of an effort to identify her father. But still. All in all, my visit to Irving’s study was a big fat bust.
“Very well, Lord Kensington...” and with that, I turned and left.
HEDONIST - DONE
“Lord Kensington...”
Sharply, his gaze shifted, narrowed, looking incredibly perplexed then highly annoyed.
“Please don’t call me that...”
I stepped further into the path, into the small arbor edged by a wall of tightly packed evergreens and a picturesque cherub-statue fountain spitting water from a trumpet centered by two small benches. Irving sat at one of those two concrete slabs, initially staring at the trickle of water that provided a gentle sort of music and ambiance to the recessed alcove.
“I thought we were back to being on uppity-named basis after our last meeting...”
I glanced around slowly, noticing the small traces of the changing season by the sprinkling of almost rusty flower petals and slightly faded lawn. And yet, it was clear that space was well maintained. There were no overgrown hedges or fully rotted plants.
“You enjoy pushing buttons, don’t you?”
I glanced back to him, finding that he was watching me intently. An unusual occurrence with him to be honest. Usually, he was doing his best to avoid looking at me directly. I grinned and shrugged tauntingly.
“A girl’s gotta have some fun...”
He didn’t laugh, but he also didn’t look away.
“What are you doing here Rebeca?”
Again, I shrugged. “I was on a hunt...” And I was. Thanks to Jameson’s taunting motivation. “Apparently there is to be some titillating secret rendezvous spot of one of your ancestors somewhere on the estate... do you think it was here?” I stepped past and took a seat on the bench beside him, continuing to look around. “Doesn’t seem to be a very ideal spot for banging...”
He made a sound. It did not sound like approval or encouragement. In fact,
“This place is off-limits.”
My eyes widened as I turned back to face his stony expression. He then winced and mumbled irritably. Something about recklessness and defiance.
“My you are grumpy today...”
“I was enjoying my solitude.”
“Why?”
“Why...?”
“Yes... why the solitude? Why are you so miserable?”
“I’m not miserable...”
I snorted and crossed my legs, the jacket I wore slipping off one shoulder.
“Why do you dress like that...”
I glanced down, smirked then looked back at him. “What’s wrong with how I dress?”
“You’re asking for trouble.”
I actually laughed. Fully. “You’re serious...” I chuckled looking at his steady expression. “Oh, come on, we both know that I will ask for trouble directly when I want it...”
“And you consider that a good thing...”
I hesitated, truly considered his words then nodded. “There’s no pretense with me. What is the point of living a life that is full of disappointment and boredom?”
He was silent for a long time. I didn’t interrupt.
“He was supposed to be the Lord... he was the oldest son...”
I arched a brow. He noticed. “The one from the letters... though I’m certain those stories are some fanciful rubbish.”
“Why?”
He looked surprised. “Because people don’t live like that...”
I paused again. “You said he was supposed to be the Lord...”
He made a sound that seemed incredibly like a snort. It made me smirk considering how often the younger guys remarked how American my scoffing was.
“He gave it all up...”
“For his lover?” I am sure I sounded shocked. Should I have been?
He chuckled. Another rare thing with him. “His eventual wife... but... no, the myth has it that he gave it up because he simply didn’t want it. But I’m sure it was some sort of scandal that has been romanticized over the years.” Then he shook his head again.
“Why?” He looked confused. “Why are you so certain it was a scandal and not the other thing?”
“Because that’s not how this world works Becky... no one just gives up a title on a whim...”
I made absolutely no acknowledgment of his using my nickname, but I certainly noticed it. Another bit of silence punctured the conversation.
“I think I would.” He gave me a questioning look. “Give it up. Anything really. If it made me unhappy. I would give it up...”
“Yes...” he shook his head in both acceptance and disbelief, “I believe that you would.”
“What’s the alternative? Mope and be depressed about the state of my life for the rest of it? I don’t believe in regrets... I refuse to have any...”
He shook his head again, once again gazing towards the fountain. Silent. Brooding. I rolled my eyes.
“Okay, well... I will leave you to your melancholy...”
I rose, started to walk away.
“Becky...” a pause, a turn. Our eyes meet. “You really should be careful... wanting something you shouldn’t have.”
“Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?” When he didn’t answer, I shrugged. “It’s not enough to just be alive Irving... every second I live is going to be mine... no one else's.”
And with that, I left him alone in his garden and his solitude.
DEBAUCHERY - DONE
“So, if I flash you some cash, I can be your Mister Right?”
I smirked, twisting around to face an elegantly clad man, dark custom-fitted suit, and a highly detailed Phantom of the Opera half-mask.
“Most guys would never admit to knowing the lyrics... most just go ‘uhh Madonna... she’s hott... haha”
“Seems I will have to show you that I am not like most guys...”
I arched a brow, chuckling softly. “And why would it matter what I think of you, Eli?”
Skin crinkled at the corner of his one exposed eye while his lips curled into a grin. “I would think a well-rounded woman such as yourself would understand that a man likes to feel unique and special to most attractive women.” Then he quickly shook his head, “no, scratch that, all attractive women.”
“So... you want me to think you’re special while collecting the same sentiment from all the other women around as well, sorry... all the attractive women, thereby making me one of many and not so unique or special...”
His half cheeky grin made me giggle. “What can I say... it’s a fatal flaw in us gents.”
“Well, there’s any number of attractive women here tonight, take your pick...”
“I thought we’d already established that I had...”
I laughed, “no, no, no... I’m the wrong girl for that lineup you’re trying to put together...”
A servant passed by us carrying a tray of drinks, Eli stretched out and cuffed a couple of flutes, handing one off to me effortlessly.
“Plying me with alcohol isn’t going to alter my personality... it will just make it more candid... and I don’t think anyone really understands how that’s possible...”
He laughed, insisting I take the drink. “I’m willing to take the risk... you may find that I’m deserving of my overly-inflated ego...”
“You realize, I know that you do... that bragging about yourself and seeking compliments is akin to being an attention whore...”
“Says the woman that wears head-to-toe body paint to a completely packed party...”
I smirked, “touché!” and took a sip of the champagne he had given moments before. “though, to be fair... some might have called me rude and distasteful... vulgar even.”
“True.” I chuckled at the quick agreement. “But... we can’t all be as audaciously confident as you, now can we...”
“I’d venture to say that some of us are exactly comparable...”
“Perhaps some of us are...” I glimpsed a dimple digging into his right cheek before he took another sip from his glass.
“My mother would have been horribly disappointed if she had witnessed that scene...” I watched him closely, slightly holding my breath for his response. Which made very little sense. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal but for some reason, I had spiraled this tidbit of knowledge he knew about me into something grander.
“Yes, well... she was raised in a different time and place than you...”
“How do you know that?” I demanded, turning to face him squarely. He cast his gaze down, considering our respective heights, and smirked. “You know my family... my mother’s family...”
“I do.” A slow nod was followed by a prolonged silence where he appeared to consider something. Or at least, that’s how it seemed to me. It could have just been purely for dramatic effect. “I made some inquiries...”
“But... why?”
He laughed softly, “it’s nothing sinister or sketchy really...in all honesty, it’s quite simple. I’m interested in you.”
I pressed my lips together. “You’re interested in me because you found out I was connected...”
“I found out you were connected because I was interested in you...”
“Interested in me for what though...” I asked skeptically only to earn a rather cheeky grin. And no response. At least not one to my question.
“Dance with me...” he insisted instead, tugging my glass from my fingers and setting it aside quickly before taking my hand and leading me to the dance floor.
And so, we danced once, had another drink, and chatted. About random things, not one thing personal from either of us. We flirted, we laughed, we danced once more. But we never got back around to the actual topic I was more curious about. And I couldn’t help but wonder just what it was that Eli was up to, because I didn’t for a moment think that his interest was so utterly innocent as he proclaimed.
It was perhaps an hour or so after we parted ways, I was hovering near an open door cooling myself with the evening air humming to a familiar slow song playing in the background. Suddenly, my wrist was clasped before I was gently tugged past the archway and onto the shadowy patio. Right into the arms of a dark-suited Phantom of the Opera in a flourish then a slow-moving rock in tune to the music spilling from inside. I laughed.
“Seriously Eli, not again!?” The man’s arm stiffened slightly...
“Eli?”
“Ed...” I gasped softly, my eyes wider now, pupils dilated and adjusting to the dim light as I gazed up to half a face “I thought you were Eli...”
“Brilliant!” he murmured. I frowned as he continued dancing though it was definitely with a little less pizzazz.
“Why the hell are you two dressed alike?”
“Why are you dancing with him in dark patios?”
I scoffed loudly, “Why am I dancing with you on a dark patio?”
“You thought you were dancing with him ‘again’” he mimicked snidely.
“That’s true...” I taunted, “though, I’m pretty sure I voiced disinterest in doing so...”
I was looking up, watching half his face register my words. One of his hands crept around my back and tugged me closer as we moved in tune to some popular ballad.
“Since when are you two such chummy mates?”
“Since tonight I suppose. Why does that seem to bother you...?”
“I’m not bothered.”
Another snort... “Oh... right, of course not,” then “ouch” when I felt a quick pinch at my side.
“Is there some reason I shouldn’t be chummy with him?” I fished carefully, wondering if perhaps I could get some reason from Ed unwittingly about his friend’s motive. Because even though I wouldn’t admit it, I also found Eli’s sudden interest suspicious. He had to have seen Ed flirting with me constantly over the past few weeks, any time he was around in fact. So why make a move on me? And there was no doubt that was exactly what Eli had done tonight.
“Not really, Eli is my best mate, have known him for years...”
“But...?”
He shook his head. “no but...” but there was. I just knew it, like I knew the sky was blue and my dress was pink.
The song came to an end and we stopped moving but Ed didn’t release me just yet, he stood there looking down at me,
“Are you interested in him?”
“I don’t know...” I answered honestly, “I barely know him...”
“You barely know me...”
I smirked, “Are you asking me if I’m interested in you?”
His gaze drifted down to my lips, his own curling smugly as his hand stroked slowly against the lowest point of my back. Chills shock straight from nape to tailbone. “Are you?”
I got the funny feeling he wasn’t really asking, that he was daring me to come up with some lie. And I hesitated. Not because I intended to lie, but because I honestly did not know the answer.
“I’m attracted to you...”
He grinned, then chuckled. “There is a distinction, isn’t there...”
I nodded, slowly. And before I comprehended why, he was inching me backward several steps, until my back pressed against a column. I could hear loud laughter drifting out from the open windows and door, another song striking up after what seemed to be a short break.
My pulse was racing erratically though, my body highly tuned to his presence, the way his hand rested above the curve of my ass, keeping my pelvis lined against his own. I licked my lips. His laughter was completely gone now, but that smug look remained.
“I was going to kiss you the last time we stood here together but we got interrupted.”
“You were too busy trying to keep me from asking you questions about where you were going that night too...”
He smirked and leaned down, his lips brushing against my ear “but I wanted to kiss you too...”
“I don’t know if I can trust you...” his eyes widened slightly... “you’re sneaky.”
“Am I?”
“You are...” even though I knew his question was rhetorical. “You’re always sneaking around, appearing in places no one expects anyone to be, in places you shouldn’t have access to, and skipping off the estate when you think no one notices.”
“You notice though?”
“Where do you go off too?” I asked bluntly instead of answering the obvious.
“Here and there...strolls mostly.” I pressed my lips together and narrowed my eyes. He smirked. “What does it matter, you only lust after me... you aren’t really interested in me...”
“Maybe I would be if you didn’t have so many secrets...”
His damn eyes danced with mischief. “Secrets are currency... and I’m not so sure you can pay my asking price...”
I snorted. He laughed. I rolled my eyes. It was becoming some sort of ritual. “What’s the price?”
Words seemed to fail him for the next few minutes. Instead of speaking, he lifted a hand and erotically brushed the tip of one finger across my lips, my jaw, creeping it tenderly down my neck and across the curve of my plumped-up cleavage before tracing back again. His eyes never wavered from the tantalizing slow progress.
“When you can pay it...” he choked out so softly I barely understood him... “I’ll let you know...”
Then the bastard pulled away and left me standing there, tingling all over. It took several heartbeats for me to even register what his parting words had been, and by then I was more than incredibly cross with him.
“Everything alright?”
I spun, my brows still pinched tightly in the center and my jaw clenched as I tried to calm. Irving was unmistakable, that simple black mask doing next to nothing to conceal who he was. Seeing him slip outside did not particularly soothe my agitation much.
“peachy...” I muttered in a snide mocking accent.
Another uncommon chuckle spilled out of him as he tapped a pack of cigarettes against one palm and moved to the opposite corner. Seconds later the dark amber tip flashed into the night before a haze of smoke billowed around his head. He looked relaxed, for once. Well, a second time. He looked this way at the bar too, I think. I tried to recall that memory, but it was so damned hazy. I do remember that by the time we left there, he had the proverbial stick lodged all the way up his ass... thanks in part... no, don’t lie Becky, thanks entirely to my marvelously indecent proposal.
“May I?” I called out, drawing his attention. He arched a brow, twisting the pack of cigs in my direction. Without words, we communicated an agreement with a series of nods and hand movements. I moved closer, pulled a long white stem out and to my lips, he leaned in and offered a light. My puffs mingled with his. A couple of minutes passed in the continued silence.
“So, you and Astor?” I had no idea what he was talking about. “Edward... Astor...”
“Oh...” I frowned, took a long puff, exhaled deliberately slowly. “what about us?”
That damned chuckle was already used twice as many times in the last few minutes than it had ever been used the rest of the entire time I had known him.
“You seemed chummy...”
I shot a look at him sharply, wariness filling me. “Seems to be a reoccurring condition tonight...”
From what I could see in the moonlight reflecting off his skin, there was definitely a smirk on his lips. “oh?”
“oh, what?”
“Nothing I guess...”
“It was nothing!”
“As you say...” he nodded solemnly but I was no fool. When I caught his gaze, those whiskey-colored orbs were completely full of devilment. “It’s just... it didn’t look like nothing...”
My nostrils flared. “And what did it look like?”
“It looked like something...”
“You’ve got jokes tonight I see. Seems you’re in a better mood...” there was obvious bitterness in my tone.
He laughed. I scowled. His cigarette burned out. I tilted mine out, thinking perhaps I must have pulled out a joint or something mistakenly. Because he was acting entirely too jovial. But, no, plain old nicotine stick.
A few more seconds of silence passed before I finally announced. “I felt provoked.”
He also hesitated, but not in thoughtfulness. No, the jerk was chuckling. Again.
“Serves you right...”
“Pardon? Why exactly do I deserve to be provoked...?”
“You see how it feels...”
I hesitated, glaring at him while he continued to laugh.
“I do not ‘provoke’ you...” One finger shot up to stop him from interrupting “... without intent to follow through...”
“Is that right?” He crossed his arms on his chest when he spun to face me fully.
“That’s right” I held his gaze as I moved closer, only breaking it briefly to reach past him and smash the butt in the ashtray right beside him. Only inches separated us now, so close we could touch. Another moment of silence passed until I uttered in an extremely suggestive tone, “It’s not my fault you refuse to take advantage of my readily available offers...”
His eyes flashed between the holes of his mask. Up close I could see the lavishness of the fabric, rich, exquisite black velvet. Luxuriously simple. It was so contradicting, like the man himself. Before I realized it was happening, his hand lifted, cupped my cheek. Slid back and tucked a few strands of loose hair behind my ear.
“Bloody hell Becky...” he muttered as his eyes trailed over my face, dropping to my lips. “You act as if I had a choice...”
“There’s always a choice” I stated barely shifting, not daring to breathe in fear of startling him and making him bolt.
“Choosing between virtue and vice is never a fair choice...” It was a hiss. Deep, retching, hungry.
His hands crept lower, brushing the thin chevon straps down until they draped off my shoulders from the way his fingers gripped my arms. I think maybe I whimpered, excited, nervous... silly. But he snatched his hands away, jerking as if I burned them, and immediately it was obvious that he was trying to regain control. Teeth clenched I looked upward, resisting the urge to growl out my frustration. Then I stepped back, shaking my head sadly as I took him in. He looked so troubled.
“I guess you choose life instead of living...” God, I sounded bitter. I sighed, turned on my heel, and left.
)
