Justine Elyot (28 page)

‘Take care, eh?’ he said, patting her hand. ‘Don’t get caught out like Susie.’

Edie did not have the strength to deny it any more.

‘I won’t,’ she said. ‘I promise. Drive safely, won’t you?’

‘Don’t I always?’

***

She left the garage, pondering on the conversation. It was well-known, it seemed, that she and Charles had an … attachment. The very thought of their being linked in people’s minds made her both fearful and delighted. She felt ridiculously lucky and privileged. He had said that he loved her. Either she loved him or he had cast a very potent spell on her. He had made her reckless, caused her to forget her caution and drop her customary defences. Now she would pay the price for it. But what was the price?

Without quite knowing how she had gotten there, Edie found herself walking on the shores of the lake. The sun was high in the sky again and the grasses dry and scratchy. Edie took off her shoes and walked in her stocking feet around the water’s edge, thinking constantly of Charles and Lady Deverell and how on earth it could all work out for the best.

So preoccupied was she that she did not hear the crackling and rustling behind her. She was aware of nothing but her own thoughts until, in a heady rush, she was caught around the waist, pinned to the trunk of a weeping willow and kissed until her breath ran out.

‘Charles,’ she protested, trying to fill her lungs with air again. ‘Are you trying to frighten me out of my wits?’

‘I saw you go into Kempe’s garage,’ he said, in a low, dangerous voice. ‘What did you want with him?’

‘You are so jealous,’ she exclaimed.

‘Of course I am. I’m jealous of that grass you walk upon. I’m jealous of that pair of shoes in your hand. I’m jealous of everything and everybody that gets closer to you than I do.’

‘Nothing is closer to me than you at this moment,’ she pointed out.

‘Your clothes are. I want to take them off you.’

‘Charles, we are in the open air.’ But his words thrilled her and she pictured herself, thighs wrapped around his hips, being taken against the tree.

‘I know,’ he said. ‘Warm, isn’t it?’ He pressed himself into her.

‘A bit too warm,’ she replied with a nervous laugh.

‘Especially in those black-and-whites of yours. So neat and sweet, crying out to be rumpled and messed up.’

‘You’re insatiable.’

‘I know. But let’s stick to the matter at hand, just for the moment. What were you doing with Kempe?’

‘I wanted to ask him about what happened in London, that’s all.’

‘What did he say?’

‘Nothing much. Mary was with Lady Deverell in an outfitters in Bond Street and she disappeared while nobody was looking. She might be with friends who were throwing a party. Are you worried about her?’

‘Mary? No. She’s no trembling ingénue. She can take care of herself. She
wants
to take care of herself, if only pa would let her. I expect she’ll write to me in a day or so, tell us we’re all fussing about nothing.’

‘What about her reputation, though?’

‘Oh, her reputation.’ Charles smiled and shook his head. ‘It really rather depends what’s she’s doing up there, doesn’t it?’

‘She could be with a man.’

‘Like you are, you mean?’

‘I don’t mean to censure her. But I know how important reputation is, to people of your class and station. If Mary loses hers …’

‘Mary’s got a decent enough head on her shoulders. Besides, there’s no reason why anyone should know.’

‘I don’t suppose Lady Deverell is giving people the real reason for the cancellation of this weekend party.’

‘No, she’s pretending to be ill.’

‘You’ve spoken to her?’

‘Briefly.’ He looked away.

Edie was surprised by the sharpness of the pang in her chest. She should not be afraid that he and Lady Deverell would recommence their affair. It wasn’t at all likely now. But she still held that fear deep in her heart.

‘How is she?’

‘Put out, mainly. And raging against pa. Why am I talking about her when I have this highly ravishable maid up against a willow tree?’

All discussion melted into the sultry air as Charles fastened his lips upon Edie’s and kissed away the speculation.

She let herself be carried beyond her workaday concerns and into the magical world of erotic sensation. The heat made her tight dress cling uncomfortably and there was bark scratching and tickling her, but it all seemed secondary to what was being done to her. Charles kissed her with hungry passion, his tongue searching inside her mouth. He pushed one of his knees between her legs and moved it up and down inside her thighs. Her petticoat chafed at the sticky, damp flesh until she longed for it to be gone.

Her most intimate parts felt heavy and overused, but they could not seem to stop themselves bursting into eager bloom, begging for more of what they had already thoroughly taken.

Charles removed one of his hands from her pinioned wrists and used it to raise her skirt, then her petticoat. He bunched them behind her and stroked her hip through her drawers before finding the elasticated top and slipping his palm inside.

She tried to gasp, to exclaim, but he had her deep in the kiss and there was no way she could break it. All she could do was keep her eyes shut and revel in the exquisite danger of having her lover’s hand inside her underwear while she stood in broad sunlight.

His fingers soon located the heat of her parted lower lips and he pushed them inside, to rub gently and slowly at her fattened bud.

She twisted against him, tiny mewls caught up in her throat. He kept her words stoppered up with his sealed lips on hers, scouring her with his tongue.

Once his fingers were slick with her juices, he pushed them inside her. She raised her leg to grant him deeper access and he took full advantage of it, spearing her and grinding his hips against hers at the same time, so that she felt the bulge of his erection.

‘Got to have you,’ he panted, breaking off.

In a moment, his trousers were down and so were her drawers. Their groins mashed together and she held on tight while he lifted her up, cradling her bottom in his hands, and placed her astride him.

‘We can’t,’ she whispered. ‘We mustn’t.’

‘We can,’ he said, with an urgent thrust. ‘We will.’

Edie clung to his neck and let him grind her to a sweaty pulp against the tree. It shed its bark continuously as they rutted, but she was aware of nothing but their primitive connection and her need to be taken by him, regardless of where or when or how. She forgot to care if they were seen or what any consequences might be.

And when it was done and she streamed with her own perspiration and his seed, only then did she remember another important concern.

‘Oh, no,’ she said, staring at him while he mopped his brow and leant on the trunk for support.

He kissed her head.

‘You didn’t like that?’

‘No, I mean, I did, but … that’s not it.’ She looked down at her dripping thighs.

‘Ah.’ He fell to his knees and lay down on the grass, one hand over his face.

Edie, irritated by his lack of response, went to the edge of the lake and dipped her handkerchief in the water. She was dabbing at the mess when he sat up, corrected his dress and spoke.

‘Would it matter so much?’ he said.

She turned, outraged.

‘Would it matter? No, not to you, I daresay. But it would ruin my life, if that means anything at all to you.’

‘I’d marry you like a shot.’

She turned away from him and continued her frantic efforts to remove all evidence of him from her.

‘Charles,’ she said levelly, unable to face him. ‘Did you do that deliberately?’

‘No, of course not. I was carried away in the moment just as you were. All I’m saying is that it needn’t be the end of the world if you … if it led to something.’

‘But how could it?’ she said, wiping the last traces and dipping her handkerchief back in the tepid waters. ‘Charles, how can we ever …? Oh, why did I come here? It’s the worst mistake of my life. Several of the worst mistakes, in fact, all at once.’

‘Well, if that’s how you feel.’

Charles stood and she turned to see him stride off through the glade and away towards the house.

‘I don’t mean you … I don’t mean …’ She broke off. He was out of earshot. ‘You,’ she whispered, watching his back recede.

She pulled up her drawers, sat down with her back to the willow tree that had supported them through their frantic coupling and burst into tears.

It was a horrible mess, that was for sure, and she couldn’t sustain it any longer. She would have to go, just take the next train to London and try to pick up her life where she had left it off. In Deverell Hall and its inhabitants she had bitten off very much more than she could chew.

Perhaps, in time, she could write to Lady Deverell. And as for Charles, well … He only said these things about their future to sweeten her, probably. She couldn’t marry the man whose stepmother was her natural mother. There was bound to be a law against it. All the same, her body and soul conspired against her, making the thought of leaving him almost physically painful and impossible.

‘It’s best for him if I do,’ she said out loud. ‘He’ll meet someone more suitable and, and, perhaps so will I in time. No,’ she continued after a moment’s reflection. ‘I’ll never meet anybody else. But that’s fine. More time to read.’

She wobbled to her feet, dashing the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve, her handkerchief being out of commission. Was there a chance she could get back to the house, pack, change and leave without attracting any unwanted attention?

She was not sure, but she meant to try it.

***

A movement in the trees, a flash of scarlet, diverted her from her path. She stopped dead, wondering who it could be, and how long they had been there.

‘Hello,’ she said uncertainly.

The figure stepped out from the greenery, revealing Lady Deverell in a bright red skirt and silk blouse. Her lips were the same shade and she parted them in a wide smile.

‘Edie,’ she said, more effusively than she might in the ordinary way of things. ‘Taking a little walk by the lake?’

Edie nodded and smiled weakly back. Her flight would have to be postponed.

‘Whatever have you been doing? You’re absolutely filthy. Look at your uniform. The apron’s streaked with … what is that? A grass stain?’

‘Oh … I …’

‘And your hair.’ Lady Deverell was close enough now to reach out and put a hand over Edie’s half-uncoiled bun. ‘Full of bits of bark. And leaves.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she stammered. ‘I’ll go and get changed.’

‘Yes, I think you should. And bathed.’ Lady Deverell put up a finger as if a marvellous idea had just occurred to her. ‘But there’s no need for a bath,’ she said. ‘Look at what we have, right here in front of us.’

‘I’m sorry?’ Edie was stupid with dread. She was sure Lady Deverell had seen Charles, or – even worse – seen the pair of them together, at it.

‘The lake,’ elucidated Lady Deverell, her smile wider than ever. ‘There’s a marvellous spot, just a little further on, where I like to come to bathe. Nobody can see it from the shores – it’s quite sheltered. On a hot day like this, it’s bliss. Come on. Why don’t we?’

‘Oh.’

‘What? Goodness me, you look absolutely awful, Edie. Are you ill?’

‘No, but –’

‘Come on then.’

‘I can’t swim.’

Lady Deverell turned back round, cocking her head to one side.

‘Of course. London girl, aren’t you? Well, never mind. I’ll teach you. Quickly, then. It isn’t far.’

Edie’s heart was tight and so was her throat as she followed Lady Deverell’s back along the shore. She knew. She had to know. Or were Edie’s fears causing her to project things that were not there on to Lady Deverell’s manner? Was she, in fact, just being her usual self?

She hardly knew what to do. Was Lady Deverell inviting her to confess before she performed a humiliating unmasking? Was she supposed to seize the chance to come clean? Would it be better for her if she did? Or should she play it safe and assume that Lady Deverell’s skittish manner was a product of her stressful trip to London? Yes, yes, it could so easily be that. It must be that.

She would go along with her mistress’s whim and then try to get away as soon as she could after that. And a dip in the lake would actually be rather nice. She felt as seedy as she had ever done in her life.

‘Here, now,’ said Lady Deverell, coming to a halt in a little inlet, overhung with weeping willows so that the waters beneath looked quite green. ‘It’s beautifully private and the water will be cool, out of the brightest part of the sunlight.’

‘Yes, it’s lovely,’ said Edie.

Lady Deverell removed her hatpin and, for the briefest of moments, pointed the sharp end in Edie’s direction before putting it, and her straw hat, on the ground. She shook her head, releasing long snakes of rich auburn hair. Here and there, a silver thread broke the glorious colour, but they were scarce enough and, unless the sun was glaring, one would hardly notice them.

‘Help me with my clothes, then,’ she said. ‘Honestly, what kind of lady’s maid
are
you, Edie?’

Edie stumbled over to her mistress, unsure where to start.

‘My blouse,’ hinted Lady Deverell, and Edie set to the buttons with clumsy fingers. ‘How did you get into that state? You smell awful. Never mind,’ she said, apparently taking pity on her mute maid. ‘It’ll all come out in the wash, as they say rather vulgarly.’

Edie removed the delicate blouse and folded it as carefully as she was able. Lady Deverell’s upper body was revealed in a camisole of silver-grey silk, trimmed with cream lace. Beneath it, her girdle accentuated her full breasts, the rounded flesh spilling from the cups.

Edie removed Lady Deverell’s skirt next. When she stepped out, Edie was reminded of some magnificent piece of statuary. She could pose for Britannia, she thought, or grace the prow of a ship.

‘Are these the legs that launched a thousand pricks?’ said Lady Deverell idly, stretching her long limbs in their silk stockings. ‘Oh.’ She smiled at Edie, the expression never reaching her eyes. ‘I’ve shocked you.’