Alleyn, Fredrica (6 page)

Monique shivered. She'd heard of such things from Sophie and had no wish to endure them herself. 'Yes, Madame,' she whispered. 'I understand.'

'Good, and make sure your hair is washed and tidy before dinner tonight. You look a mess at the moment.'

'Of course, Madame,' apologised Monique, wanting only to be gone from the room with all its memories.

Cassandra relented. 'Very well, you may go now.'

The maid rushed from the room and Cassandra gave a soft sigh. It had been fun, and the girl had clearly enjoyed herself at the end, but she was beginning to understand Dieter's excitement at the prospect of Nicola's visit. To work on genuinely innocent flesh would be unbelievably erotic, and her earlier fears vanished at the thought of the excitement which lay ahead.

Chapter Three

N
icola Desmond sat in the back of the chauffeur driven Mercedes that the baron had sent to collect her from the airport and stared out of the window. The scenery was breathtaking, the wide Loire river with its islands of woods and the incredible beauty of some of the most famous of the valley's chateaux, which the driver pointed out to her as they passed, all seemed like something out of a fairytale.

Wearing a mauve and green madras check cotton dress with short sleeves and a simple round neckline, the English girl looked as innocent as she was. This sudden departure to France to stay with one of her father's friends was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in her entire twenty years. She pictured the unknown baron as a contemporary of her father's; a white-haired, impeccably mannered member of the aristocracy whose way of life would be just as slow and boring as her father's, but at least in a more exotic setting and without any military library for her to catalogue.

The Mercedes left the main road they'd been on for the past half hour and now the chauffeur slowed his speed as they followed a narrow twisting lane overhung by trees. Suddenly the car emerged from the shadows into brilliant sunlight and Nicola gasped as she looked out across a large blue lake and saw a white, three-storey, Renaissance-style chateau on the far side. It was so exquisite it seemed unreal, and its reflection in the water made it look as though there was a twin chateau upside down, beneath it.

There you are,' said the chauffeur, with a smile at her obvious delight. 'The baron's chateau. That's the back you can see from here. We have to drive around the lake to reach the entrance. The driveway itself is four hundred metres long.'

'It's very isolated,' murmured Nicola.

'He prefers it that way.'

'I suppose men like their peace as they get older,' replied Nicola. The chauffeur didn't respond.

When they reached the huge, wrought-iron gates at the entrance to the chateau, a man emerged from a small gatehouse and opened up the gates to allow them in. They then swept along the gravel drive and around an immaculate square of lawn until they came to a halt outside the front door.

As Nicola clambered out of the car, her dress sticking to her bare legs and clinging tightly across her breasts where her skin was damp with perspiration, she glanced around in excitement at the vast grounds and dense copses, and for the first time felt grateful that her father had decided to marry Lara.

For the baron, looking out of a second-storey bedroom, it was an equally exciting moment. This girl, with her corn-coloured hair cut in an old-fashioned pageboy style and her expensive but plain dress was quite clearly totally unaware of herself as a sensual being. The manner in which she scrambled from the car, her slightly awkward walk and the way she kept her head down gave off no hint of sexuality. He sighed with pleasurable anticipation.

Next to him, Cassandra also watched intently. Wearing a calf-length cream skirt with long vents at the back and sides, teamed with a matching scoop-necked over-tunic, and her small waist emphasised by a thick brown woven leather belt, she knew that she looked elegant yet casual. She'd chosen her clothes carefully; they were intended to impress without overwhelming the newcomer. She also wanted to look sophisticated yet friendly.

'Well?' enquired the baron softly.

Cassandra ignored the question. 'I think we should go down and welcome her.'

'Of course. Are all the cameras correctly in position?'

'I checked them myself. Everything Nicola does will be filmed.'

'Except in my room,' murmured the baron.

Cassandra felt a fluttering of fear. She hadn't allowed herself to picture the newcomer alone with the baron, in total privacy. 'Except in your room,' she agreed.

He smiled to himself, knowing that for once he'd managed to disturb her normally impenetrable facade. 'Let us go then,' he said, brushing her cheek with his lips before gently propelling her out of the room.

Nicola heard the sound of Cassandra's sandals on the landing above the entrance hall and looked up at the couple as they descended the wide staircase. Her first thought was that the young woman, so carefully groomed and poised, would probably find her just as irritating as Lara had, and she suddenly wished she'd never left London. Then, as the baron crossed the tiled hall and took her hand in his, pressing her fingers warmly as he introduced himself, she immediately changed her mind.

It seemed impossible that this handsome, smiling, brown-eyed man, who was probably little more than forty, could be a friend of her father's. Tiny butterflies fluttered in her stomach as she gazed at him and felt the full force of his charismatic charm.

For Cassandra, watching from behind her lover,

Nicola's feelings were very clear. The gentle pink glow that suffused her cheeks, the awkward shifting of her feet as Dieter held her gaze a fraction longer than was normal, were all clear pointers that the subtle seduction had already begun.

Suddenly the baron released Nicola's hand and stepped back a pace, his eyes sweeping over her as he made an assessment. 'You look very hot and crumpled,' he said shortly. 'I like the women in my chateau to be well groomed at all times. Cassandra will have to help you; you clearly have a lot to learn about such things.'

Startled, Nicola glanced at Cassandra, her eyes reflecting her pain at the baron's swift change of mood. Cassandra smiled reassuringly at her and moved to stand next to the girl.

'Nicola's had a long, tiring journey, Dieter. I'll take her to her room so that she can rest and freshen up,' she said placidly.

The baron nodded. 'We're delighted to have you here, Nicola,' he remarked, turning away, 'but you will of course be expected to obey my house rules. I'm sure you can understand that, coming from a military family.'

'I - yes, of course.' Nicola could hardly speak she was so disconcerted and when Cassandra put a friendly arm round her shoulders and led her upstairs, she felt a surge of gratitude.

'You do look very hot,' said Cassandra sympathetically, leading Nicola into the bedroom which had been so carefully prepared for her. 'There's a bathroom next door, no one will use it but you. I'm sorry there's no connecting door, but with very old buildings like this some changes just can't be made.'

'It really doesn't matter,' Nicola assured her. 'This room's gorgeous,' she added.

Cassandra smiled. 'I hoped you'd like it. I chose the colour scheme for you myself.'

The soft coral wallpaper and the snow-white curtains
and
bedspread looked wonderfully clean and bright to
Nicola,
whose bedroom in her father's London home
had
been badly in need of decorating. She also liked the
king
-size bed, little realising that beneath the ruffled
covers
metal rings were already in place.

'I'll have Monique unpack for you while you bathe,' said Cassandra. 'If you like to take off your dress that can be laundered and returned to you by morning.'

Nicola hesitated. She suddenly felt awkward, and there was a tension in the air that she couldn't understand. She supposed it was her own shyness at the prospect of undressing in front of such a beautiful woman but as Cassandra continued to wait, smiling pleasantly, Nicola felt she had no choice.

As she unfastened the buttons at the front of the bodice and then pulled the garment over her head she revealed a slim, pale body unused to sunlight with unexpectedly full breasts that nearly overflowed from the slightly too small beige satin bra.

Cassandra took the dress. 'You can put your lingerie in the linen basket in the bathroom. It will be emptied each morning. Lunch will be in the courtyard since it's such a lovely day. Wear anything that's comfortable, but I should mention that we always dress formally for dinner.'

Nicola nodded, hoping she'd brought enough clothes. At home her father had rarely required her presence at his dinner table and she hadn't expected the baron to be any different.

'Cassandra, the baron mentioned rules,' she said hesitantly. 'I wouldn't like to offend him again, so perhaps you could tell me the important ones.'

Cassandra nodded. 'Of course. He's very strict about punctuality; breakfast is at eight, lunch at twelve-thirty, dinner at eight-thirty. Another thing he's very fussy about is knocking on doors. Apart from your own rooms you must never enter any room in the chateau without knocking first.'

'Why not?' asked Nicola curiously.

In his room the baron's eyebrows went up and he leant towards the screen he was watching. He hadn't anticipated questions from her at this stage.

Cassandra shrugged. 'Because the baron says so.'

'But it doesn't make sense. I mean, if a room is empty . . .'

'If, after a short wait, you don't get a reply then naturally you go in,' said Cassandra. 'It's a question of privacy. You'll learn too that not all of the baron's rules make sense, but he still expects them to be obeyed. He believes it's important for people to learn to take orders without questioning them, and in the process discover how to discipline themselves.'

Nicola frowned, clearly not understanding. 'Are there other rules I should know about?'

'You'll pick up a lot of them as you go along, but as you've already learnt, the baron is most particular about the way women appear. He likes them to be well groomed and attractively dressed at all times. He's a connoisseur of beauty; ugliness in any form distresses him.'

'Surely it's what people are like, not how they appear, that matters,' said Nicola earnestly.

Cassandra stepped closer to her and touched her very lightly on her bare shoulders. 'You've got a lovely figure; you must dress to show it off better.'

Nicola stared into Cassandra's dark eyes. 'Most of my clothes are more functional than decorative,' she responded. 'They're well made but . . .'

'I'll help you,' Cassandra assured her. 'We'll take a shopping trip up to Paris together. Dieter will be delighted to let us use his private plane.' She glanced at her watch. 'You'd better have your bath now; it's only half an hour to lunch-time.'

'Where do I go when I'm ready?'

'Just pull on the tasselled cord there. One of the maids will show you the way down. And Nicola.'

'Yes?'

Cassandra smiled more warmly than at any other time. 'The baron and I are both so pleased that your father's asked us to finish off your education for him.'

In his bedroom the baron watched Nicola's face as his mistress left the room. He was amused by her puzzled expression. It had been a clever remark by Cassandra, unsettling but not frightening, and he appreciated it. He had also appreciated Nicola's virginal body; her slender limbs and surprisingly voluptuous breasts. The contrast with Cassandra's smaller, tight breasts with their delicate nipples was stimulating. He thought that he'd probably begin with Nicola's breasts.

Cassandra returned to her bedroom and watched on the monitor as Nicola went into the bathroom. She stripped naked, then filled the tub with water. Her buttocks were small and tight, her legs slim and the triangle of pubic hair was a fine golden down. Watching her, Cassandra found it almost impossible to imagine Nicola writhing in ecstasy beneath the baron's ministrations. There was no sign of sexuality in her body, and even when she soaped herself her movements were brisk and efficient; there was no lingering touch of her fingers on her dark nipples, nor between her thighs when she stood and soaped herself there.

Cassandra wondered how Nicola would be able to bear the incredible pleasure she and the baron would give her; and as for the dark, bitter-sweet sensations that would follow her initiation, they seemed too farfetched even to contemplate. Yet it would happen, Cassandra knew, because that was what the game was all about.

Her bath over, Nicola wrapped herself in a length of white towelling edged in pink that fastened around the top of her breasts with a velcro strip and returned to her bedroom. Her cases had already been unpacked and her clothes hung in the huge built-in wardrobe with mirrored doors.

After some hesitation she selected a pair of mustard and green striped culottes, a short-sleeved embroidered cream blouse and a long mustard-coloured cardigan in case the sun went in, stepped into a pair of canvas shoes and then pulled on the cord.

It was Sophie who came to lead her to the courtyard. She'd already heard about the young English girl from Peter, who'd driven her from the airport, and his enthusiastic remarks about her peaches and cream complexion and almost childlike delight in the drive made her sullen.