Cadence of My Heart (19 page)

“Are you having me on?!”

Marlee shakes her head. “The registry office is booked, and I’ve been hiding wedding rings in my sock drawer for months.”

“You sneaky old mare!” Rachel chugs her sherry, slamming the empty glass down on the table with celebratory gusto. “Are you coming back from up north? Or are you taking off with her? All romantic like.”

“I just bought a house in Hampshire.” Marlee lets a small smile escape. “I’m mortgaged up to my ear-holes, and we’ll be moving in as soon as I get the keys.” She hides her trembling hands by folding them in her lap. “I think this is what’s known as an elopement.” Her smile fades. “You don’t think I’m an awful human being for doing this?”

“For doing what?” Rachel pulls a face. “For loving a girl who ain’t never got enough from anyone else? For saving her from that frightful pig of a boy?” She offers Marlee encouragement by patting her arm. “You really wanna know what I think? Sod the bleeding Ashlocks. It’s about time someone stuck it up ‘em!”

Marlee returns to the bedroom an invigorated woman after her talk with Rachel. She and Cadence enjoy a light breakfast of sliced and diced fruit, some buttered toast, and two tall glasses of orange juice, then relish their first taste of completely legal sex.

As it happens, the excitement of engaging in repercussion-free love has a decidedly aphrodisiac effect on both of them, and the first round, while vigorous, lasts only minutes. The second round lasts considerably longer, and results in a rather large damp patch on the bed between Marlee’s legs, forcing them to huddle together on the other side of the mattress.

“How dare that little turd call me frigid,” Cadence grumbles, sprawled naked over Marlee, reflecting on Vince’s snide insult from last night.

“You
should
be frigid,” Marlee reminds her. “You’re far more experienced than you ought to be at your age, and that’s entirely my fault.”

Remembering a time when Cadence’s parents vehemently instructed her not to give their daughter any form of sexual education whatsoever, she snickers. Not only has she drastically failed to comply with that request, but the education she’s given Cadence over the last twelve months has been exemplary.

Unfortunately, opportunities to further that education prove to be somewhat few and far between for the rest of the day. As Marlee feared, Cadence’s time is first dominated by her parents, then she’s forced to drink tea with Mister and Missus Cartwright before spending a quiet afternoon with Vince. By the time she and Marlee get to be alone again, it’s much too late for another tumble. She has to get ready for her party, and it’s Marlee’s job to make sure she looks presentable.

In the bathroom adjoining Marlee’s bedroom, Cadence—her hair tamed into a braid—stands in front of the mirror, admiring her reflection. The gift box Marlee handed to her that morning is abandoned in the tub, its contents pillaged, the red ribbon dangling from the bath taps, and she’s sporting a brand new set of lacy undies: red with velvet hearts.

The sheer fabric conceals very little. It shows off the pink circles of her areolae, her nipples obscured by two perfectly positioned hearts, and there’s a peek of dark pubic hair framing a larger heart at her crotch. As Marlee watches her from the bathroom doorway, two small bumps project from the hearts on Cadence’s chest, her nipples stiffening beneath.

“They look good on you.” Marlee smiles.

“I love them.” Cadence adjusts her bra straps. “When did you sneak out to get them?”

“I have my ways.” Marlee swoops in behind her, reaching around her waist.

“Was I sleeping?”

“Maybe.” Marlee kisses her shoulder. “Maybe you were exhausted from our energetic lovemaking.” She nuzzles her neck, laying kisses there. “Or maybe I paid one of the junior staff to run a little errand for me.” She winks at Cadence’s reflection.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, sweetheart.” Marlee trails her hands up, cupping Cadence’s breasts. “It’s an utterly selfish gift.” She targets the two protruding bumps. “I just wanted to see you wearing them.”

“That’s funny.” Cadence smirks. “I just want to see you taking them off.”

“And I will, but
after
the party.” Marlee drags her out of the bathroom. “Now get your dress on. We’re already running behind.”

“Tonight almost feels like a proper engagement party.” Cadence is positively glowing as she slips into her new dress. “I’m all aflutter.”

Marlee zips her up. “Remember to pack this dress tonight.” She pats it down and fixes the sash. “I’d like you wear it when I make you my wife.”

Cadence spins to face her, giddy with excitement. “I can’t wait!”

“It won’t be long.” Marlee kisses her, savoring their last few moments of privacy before heading down to the party. “Now, let’s get this over with.” She ushers the birthday girl toward the door.

They descend the main staircase together, footsteps in synch, and stand outside the main doors to the ballroom, holding hands, hesitant to enter, as if waiting for divine intervention. The party guests are already gathered inside: Cadence’s school friends mostly, along with the Ashlocks and the Cartwrights.

“Everyone’s going to stare at me.” Cadence fidgets in her dress, adjusting the sash, picking her knickers out of her butt crack.

“Of course they are.” Marlee steps in front of her, making a few last minute tweaks to her hair. “You’ll be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

“I don’t know about that.” Cadence ogles her. “You look really sexy, Marlee.”

Marlee looks down at herself: just another nanny ensemble.

“I always wear this.” She picks at her skirt.

“I know.” Cadence smirks, leaning in for a kiss.

Marlee accepts the intimacy at first, but puts a swift end to it. “Not here.”

“But it’s my birthday.” Cadence puts on an exaggerated pout. “Aren’t you supposed to give me anything and everything I want?”

“Gladly. As long as it’s not something that’s likely to get us both into trouble right before we … well, you know.” Marlee’s eyes twinkle. “Patience, darling.”

Knowing better than to push her luck and cause a fuss, Cadence drops the topic of kisses and reaches to fumble with Marlee’s pinned up hair.

“Ow!” Marlee flinches as Cadence tugs on her locks. “What’re you doing?”

“I want you to let your hair down.” Cadence drops her hands to Marlee’s shoulders. “I hate the way my father looks at you when your hair’s up. He’s always staring at your tits.”

“What can I say? I have nice tits.” Marlee smiles cheekily, removing hairpins, shaking out her mane. “Now come on, we have to get you in there before they send a search party out for you. I’d be a terrible chaperone if I couldn’t even get you to the party in the first place.” She shoves Cadence toward the doors, making her squeal as she feels her rump.

“Tsk, tsk, Marlee.” Cadence wags a finger at her, grinning. “That’s naughty touching.”

Cadence enters the room backwards, pushing the doors open with her bum. Almost immediately, a cacophony of ear piercing squeals and squawks rises above the sound of Cadence’s favorite music, and she’s bombarded by a gaggle of teenage girls. They gather around her so tightly that Vince can’t get within ten feet of her—win!

The girls want to pull her away into their clique, grabbing and tugging on her, but she seems reluctant to go. She doesn’t say anything, but she looks over her shoulder, and Marlee can see the conflict in her eyes: torn between staying beside her lover and going with her friends.

“Go,” Marlee encourages her. “Go be a carefree teenager.”

“Are you sure?” Cadence’s brow creases. “I don’t want to ditch you.”

“This is
your
party. Go, darling.”

Marlee shoos her away, watching her disappear in a sea of ball gowns. Should she feel guilty for taking her away from all of this? A girl should be near her friends. A girl
needs
her friends, doesn’t she? However will Cadence cope in a strange, new place with no familiar faces? Problems like these call for liquor, Marlee thinks, making her way over to the bar.

She orders up a double measure of gin and perches on a stool, but barely gets the glass to her lips—no chance to take a sip—before she’s blindsided by Missus Ashlock.

“Who’s she sleeping with?” Cadence’s mother sits beside her. “Tell me.”

“Excuse me, milady?” Marlee sets down her glass, trying to stay cool and collected.

“I know she’s seeing someone.” Missus Ashlock speaks in hushed tones. “I know she’s fucking him, whoever he is, and I know he was here last night. So who is he? And how long has this been going on?”

Marlee is stuck for words. “How do you … ?”

“I know you keep her secrets.” Missus Ashlock looks around, making sure the Cartwrights aren’t within earshot. “I know she tells you everything, so don’t lie to me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, milady.” Marlee takes a long, much-needed sip of her gin.

“So who is he?” Missus Ashlock persists. “Is it one of the staff? I hope it’s not that blasted stable boy again.”

“She’s not sleeping with any boy,” Marlee assures her—and it’s not a lie. It’s not the complete truth, either, but it’s definitely not a lie.

“Those were her knickers Vince found in the games room, weren’t they? I can’t imagine they belong to a domestic. Domestics aren’t allowed up there.” Missus Ashlock raps her press-on nails against the mahogany bar. “Where did she get them? Did you buy them for her?”

“No, I didn’t.” Marlee picks her drink off the bar and gets up. “Because they’re mine.”

Walking out on Missus Ashlock in the middle of a conversation—undoubtedly leaving her with more questions than answers—is really quite thrilling. Marlee keeps a steady pace across the room, trying to act like the exchange was nothing out of the ordinary, even though she’d never before have dared to speak to the Missus so curtly.

Adrenalin pumping, she finds somewhere quiet to sit at the edge of the room, inadvertently placing herself in the middle of a row of chairs reserved for wallflowers: those seeking to dance, but who’ve not yet been asked. Of course, within seconds of bum hitting upholstery, a gentleman in his mid-fifties approaches her.

Presumably, he’s the father—divorced, one would hope—of someone in Cadence’s group of friends. He asks her to dance, she declines, and he moves on to other targets, the rejection rolling off him like water off the proverbial duck. Randy bastard, Marlee thinks, smirking to herself as he hits on a middle-aged blonde standing by the buffet table.

The whole back-and-forth lasts less than fifteen seconds, but Cadence has her eye on them from beginning to end and breaks away from her cluster of rowdy besties as soon as she can. Dashing across the dance floor, weaving through flailing, twirling bodies, she rather boldly plants herself on Marlee’s lap, flinging both arms around her neck.

“Have I ever told you that my friends think you’re dead gorgeous?” She plants a kiss on Marlee’s cheek. “Because they do, and you damn well are.”

“Flatterer.” Marlee puts an arm around Cadence’s waist, holding her delicately and discreetly, hyper aware that Vince is eyeballing them from a short distance away. “Aren’t you worried that your friends will think you have an attachment problem if they see you clinging to your old nanny like this?”

Cadence shrugs. “Who cares what they think? I’d rather be here with you, defending you against the repulsive advances of horny old men.”

“My darling savior.” Marlee nibbles playfully on her bare shoulder. “Why weren’t you here to defend me from your mother a few minutes ago?”

“Ah, is that why you’re on the gin?” Cadence teases, flicking the glass with her finger.

“I needed something.” Marlee finishes it and sets the glass on an empty chair beside them, resting her hand on Cadence’s lap. “I’m all nerves tonight as it is, and she just gave me the third degree.”