Her Lady's Fortune

by Renée Dahlia

  “I’ve got you.” Priya whispered as she caressed Rosalie’s tight skin, somehow knowing exactly when she needed a light touch like a tickle with a feather, and when she needed a bruising contact that would definitely—hopefully—leave a mark. One she could spend the next few days touching and remembering how incredible this moment was. Before she knew it, Priya had wriggled out of her hold, and her hot mouth covered Rosalie’s nipples with a light graze of teeth that had Rosalie bucking and desperate. Priya pushed her down into the bed, completely in control, and if that didn’t almost send Rosalie over the edge again, it was the commanding tone in her voice that had her heart racing.

  “Stay.”

  Rosalie couldn’t have moved if she’d tried; her limbs had softened and she was unable to move, yet still willing to wrap herself tight around Priya if she’d asked. Priya shifted lower and her hair trailed over Rosalie’s torso, leaving her a writhing wreck, barely able to breath at the varied and incredible sensations of Priya’s clever fingers and long soft hair. A cool breeze fluttered over Rosalie’s cheek and she lifted her head to stare at the wonderful sight of Priya’s head between her legs. Priya settled her shoulders between Rosalie’s thighs, and she didn’t have to push them apart, because Rosalie wanted this more than anything. More than her desire to prove herself to her grandfather, more than showing the world that a woman could run a bank, more than she’d ever wanted anything before. She tried to tell Priya, to thank her, and tell her how beautiful she looked with her black hair spread over Rosalie’s pale skin, but only a croak came out.

  “I’ve got you. It’s going to be fine.” Priya’s breath was hot against her stomach.

  Rosalie choked on an unexpected giggle at the reassurance. “More than good.” Any more words were ripped away when Priya licked her cunny with exactly the right pressure, flicking her tongue over Rosalie’s quim, so the whole world disappeared. Her eyes fogged over and she gripped the sheets. Priya thrust her fingers inside, as deep as she could, and Rosalie was helpless under the pressure of it all. She bucked and cried and screamed, until she shoved her fist into her mouth to contain the sounds that escaped. Sounds she’d never made before, and for every single one, Priya licked and thrust until Rosalie’s throat ached. Pleasure, pressure, built and built, again with the delicious combination of rough and gentle, until Rosalie felt like she stood on the edge of cliff ready to fall. And all it took was for Priya to groan against Rosalie’s skin. Rosalie fell, her body quivering as she floated on the wind, with only Priya to anchor her to the real world. There weren’t any sparks—not like before—just the rushing of wind and her body was buffeted around as if someone had taken all the tension, all the fight, and let her be free. The landing was soft, beautiful, as she opened her eyes to Priya’s smile. She slid back up her body and kissed her, a long satisfying kiss, and Rosalie groaned with the joy of it. This was the future she wanted. If her body was capable of tension, she would’ve been rigid with the need to shut her mouth. The last thing she wanted was to frighten Priya away with her neediness. She waited until she had control over her instincts, letting her body stayed relaxed against Priya’s softness.

  “Good morning.” Rosalie’s voice croaked a little, but she didn’t mind.

  Priya grinned. “It really is.”

  Rosalie kissed her on the forehead and eventually she found her voice. “Let’s get up, wash, have some breakfast, and slay a man.”

  “I like that plan.” Priya’s smile filled Rosalie’s whole world.

  ***

  Priya’s legs ached in the very best way, a little reminder of the best morning she’d ever experienced. After getting up, they’d showered together, washing each other with long soapy strokes, then spent the morning chatting over breakfast and coffee. There had been no awkwardness, only a shared happiness. Climbing the stairs to her brother’s office with sore thighs was only bearable because Rosalie was at her side. Again. Or perhaps the correct way to describe was that Rosalie remained at her side. She could get used to having her beside her. After a short knock, she pushed open her brother’s office door, not bothering to wait for him to invite her in. They often barged into each other’s space because they prioritised family over everyone else. Priya paused, mid stride, halfway through the door. Was it healthy to do that? A niggle circled back to the reason she’d originally wanted to keep her distance from Rosalie; the old family story about Mr Thackery and how people tried to get close to them for the money or the prestige, and not for themselves. She cleared away the burr in the throat. She’d already decided not to let that story stop her from being with Rosalie. She wanted to take a chance on love.

  “Yes?”

  “It’s me.” Her voice crackled as she answered her brother’s question. Her timing was terrible. How could she realise she might be in love now? Love? Truly? Her pulse galloped and her breath shortened as if she’d run up the stairs. She wasn’t in love with Rosalie? Was she? She was. Deeply and fully in love. She wanted forever with Rosalie.

  “Hello. I’m in a meeting, right now. Is it important?” Ashwin’s impatient tone pulled her back to reality because no, meeting with Ashwin wasn’t important compared to her realisation, but yes, because the meeting mattered for Carlingford Enterprises. And without a strong business behind her, she couldn’t do her charitable work. It was a symbiotic relationship; the guilt she carried from the war was a curse but lately she’d begun to realise her position in the world was also a blessing. She could help many people, and she wanted Rosalie at her side as she did it.

  Priya stepped completely into the room and glanced sideways at Ashwin’s guest. Her stomach sank as she saw the other man in the room. “You are meeting with Mr Flannery. I didn’t realise you knew each other.”

  “We went to school together. Mr Flannery was an excellent pace bowler and a solid man with the bat. Have you met?”

  Priya nodded once, then flicked a look over her shoulder at Rosalie. “Yes. Mr Flannery and I have met on several occasions.”

  “Miss Howick and I have a mutual love of the theatre. Didn’t she tell you?” Mr Flannery’s tone came out as a taunt. One that shifted her internal musings back to the moment.

  “I wouldn’t say it was mutual.” It wasn’t enough for her to reject his offers of dinner multiple times, or that she needed to tell Mr Sharma to be her barrier whenever he called. She wasn’t above letting the butler be the person who stopped Mr Flannery from entering the house, and she was certain Mr Flannery called on the telephone more often than Mr Sharma mentioned. It was Mr Sharma’s job to protect her, and she was sensible enough to know when she needed help.

  “Oh, it’s definitely mutual, although I do find your sense of fashion to be a little over the top.”

  “Do you now?” Priya raised one eyebrow. What she wore was no one’s business but hers, and enjoying clothing wasn’t a sin. At least not one worth mentioning on the scale of things people judged her on and found her wanting.

  “The world knows you, Miss Howick. You don’t need to flash your wealth about with such obscene displays.”

  Of course. It was about her money, not about her personal choices. Once more, a man defined her by her relatives. Using a deep slow breath, Priya forced her features to relax into her social mask.

  “I represent my family’s interests whenever I appear in public, and people expect a certain... let’s say... uniform when they see me.” She glanced at Rosalie, who had that look on her face as if she had just pulled a dusty old sheet off a table and had a mouthful of dry dust.

  “I don’t care for such displays.” Mr Flannery sneered.

  “You are incredibly judgemental for someone who has been rather persistent in your request to have dinner with me.”

  Ashwin turned to his guest. “You didn’t tell me you’d been trying to court my sister.”

  Priya glared at her brother who shrugged. Fine. He understood exactly how she felt the old fashioned idea that her male relatives ought to give permission to anyone who wanted to s
pend time with her. She was her own person who could make her own decisions. She nearly grinned at his shrug. He knew exactly how she felt, and he only said that to see if it extracted information from Mr Flannery. Ashwin’s comment and subsequent shrug reminded her of the wire extraction machine in one of their factories, and how it took a slab of metal and turned it into a long useful thread.

  “Why would I? Why would I give you another reason to...” Mr Flannery stopped.

  “To what?”

  “To stop me from getting what I want.” The hatred in Mr Flannery’s voice echoed through the office, and Priya took a couple of involuntary steps backward, only stopping when Rosalie’s hand gently touched her on the spine.

  Ashwin frowned. “I don’t understand. We are friends.”

  “Are we?” It wasn’t really a question. Mr Flannery virtually spat the comment out and his moustache trembled at the corners.

  “Not close friends, I’ll grant you that. But we went to school together. We were in the same cricket team.”

  Mr Flannery’s face reddened. “Not always. In the last year of school, there was a trial match for Cambridge University’s firsts, and we were on opposite teams.”

  Ashwin frowned. “And? Surely you can’t be upset about that game. Your team won. You made the firsts.”

  “As twelfth man, while you got in as the opening batsman.” Mr Flannery stood up, stretching to his full height and Priya shrunk back. She’d forgotten how tall he was, and his foppish fashionable hair cut made him seem even taller. Many people might call him handsome based on his appearance alone. Not her. Not when he used his height to intimidate her.

  “I don’t understand. The selections weren’t based on one game alone.”

  “He’s not the only one who doesn’t understand.” Rosalie whispered in her ear and Priya gasped. She spun around and opened her mouth, then slammed it shut, squeezing her eyes together for good measure. Mr Flannery went to school with Ashwin, and he’d just said that Ashwin stopped him from getting what he wanted. Could it be? Understanding lit up a glowing light inside her and it took a lot of effort not to grin wildly.

  “It’s easy. I was on forty-nine in that trial match and you... You claimed a catch when it was clearly a bump ball. Our coach told me that if I’d made my half century and gone on with it, I would’ve made the team as the all-rounder. Instead, you stopped me. You should have had the decency to tell the truth. It was a bump ball, not a catch. Cricket is a gentleman’s game, and you are clearly not a gentleman.”

  Ashwin frowned, then after a decent pause, he lifted his chin. “It wasn’t a bump ball. You didn’t pick the slower ball and popped it up for a catch. And besides, it was a good knock that got you into the team. You’d been inconsistent with the bat all season leading up to the trials...”

  “Which is why I needed that fifty. You lied about the catch and stopped me making the final eleven.”

  Ashwin’s frown deepened. “For the thousandth time, it was a clean catch.” He breathed in deep and his frown faded. “I had no idea you felt so strongly about something that happened such a long time ago.”

  “You have to win at everything, don’t you? Isn’t it enough that you are going to get a title, you also get rich from the nasty business of war, and you couldn’t even let a man have his half-century when needed.”

  “Let? You think I should have dropped a sitter because you wanted the glory of a half-century.”

  “Yes. For years, I’ve tried to get my revenge on you. I slept with every woman you wanted, except that dancer. She refused all my advances. It makes no sense. I’m much more handsome than you. It must be your money that swayed her. I could give her a better time in bed.”

  “Careful.” Ashwin stood up, his hands clenched at his sides, and Priya wanted to laugh and scream at the same time. A man like Mr Flannery would be no good in bed; he was too selfish to be a decent lover. More importantly, she knew the truth. Mr Flannery was Fraud Finder. He had to be. He’d gone to school with Ashwin. He had the motivation to try and smear Carlingford Enterprises, and both her and Ashwin in the press. The only question was whether he had access to being published.

  “She’s just a dancer.” Mr Flannery hadn’t finished his rant, it seemed. “What does it matter to you? She rejected me for you. Why do you get everything you want and I get nothing? Just your dregs.”

  Priya bounced into the space between them before Ashwin thumped Mr Flannery, and quite rightly too. She felt the same urge. “Excuse me.”

  “What? Even you refused to have dinner with me. I had it all planned out. For once in my life I was going to win something from Ashwin. I would bed his sister, and even better, I would marry her and get my hands on some your dirty money. Finally.”

  Priya had been correct. “Your persistence made it obvious you wanted access to the Carlingford funds. I saw through you easily and I would never agree to dinner with someone who had such obvious motives. I won’t have you.”

  Mr Flannery lurched towards her and she ducked to the side, so Mr Flannery’s thighs hit Ashwin’s desk. He roared as he stood upright again, his face blotchy and red and his fists clenched. Priya’s heart pounded in her ears. Loud and ugly.

  “Settle down. Please.” Ashwin’s voice turned lethal and everyone stopped. Priya used the chance to move as far away from Mr Flannery as she could without taking her gaze off him. Even an enraged Mr Flannery felt the leadership and force in her brother’s tone. Neither man moved a muscle.

  “You are Fraud Finder.” Rosalie spoke into the silence and Priya let the grin she’d been withholding spread across her face.

  “I figured it out too.”

  “Yes. And you are going down.” Mr Flannery pointed his finger at Ashwin, then waved his hand to point at Priya as well. “My uncle owns the paper and he will let me write anything I want. You have enemies, Mr Howick, and I will find them all and write about every dirty thing you’ve done to gain such advantages. No one gets to have everything. Especially not you, a dirty player who claimed a bump ball as a fair catch. If I can’t have what I want and I can’t have your sister, then I’ll take down your whole family.” Mr Flannery stormed out of the office and slammed the door. Ashwin’s hand trembled slightly as he walked to the telephone on the wall and dialled someone.

  “Please ensure the Mr Flannery is escorted from the building and also that he is never granted entrance again.” Ashwin placed the speaker back on the telephone and slowly walked towards her. “You didn’t tell me he had asked you to dinner.”

  Priya shrugged, letting the tension ease out of her muscles now the threat was gone. The thud of her heart in her ears started to ebb into a less fierce beat. “I didn’t think it was relevant. I said no... Several times, in fact.”

  “I could have helped.”

  “I know. I don’t always need your help, big brother.” She deliberately reminded him of his place in her life. “I’m only sorry that he said those things about Eliza.” She wiped her hands on her handkerchief to get rid of the clammy sweat that had built up while Mr Flannery had been in the room. It was odd how she hadn’t noticed her skin seep with sweat in the moment, and only now she was beginning to calm down, did she realise the impact.

  “He can say what he likes about me, but to talk about her in such a way...” Ashwin didn’t need to finish his sentence. His rage was quite apparent in his tone.

  “Is she safe? He seems quite upset. I hope he doesn’t do anything rash.” Rosalie’s calm question tore in the tension of the room and Priya’s heart skipped a beat. Ashwin’s eyes widened and his face paled.

  “I need to go.”

  “Yes. Go to her. We will deal with the press.” Priya found it far too easy to imagine the state of Ashwin’s heart. If anyone threatened Rosalie, she would stop at nothing to keep her safe. It was easy to imagine Ashwin’s horror as he worried for the safety of Eliza with someone like Mr Flannery making threats against her. Her chest felt like it was being crushed under one of the ships they built, as
if she’d lain on the dry dock and the ship had launched across her body. She loved Rosalie. It had slowly crept up on her, at first disguised at lust and incredible chemistry, followed by awkwardness and finally friendship and support. Together they could help thousands of people. Rosalie understood her burdens and had given up her own work to help her carry them. Priya could do the same for Rosalie, and she knew with all her heart that neither of them would need to sacrifice their independence for each other. It was their independence that made each of them strong, and together they would be imposing.

  Chapter 18

  Rosalie hadn’t expected the mystery to be so easily solved. How dull of Fraud Finder to tell everyone who he was. Rosalie had called Mrs Patel to take several days away from the bank so she could assist Priya, and Mrs Patel had been thrilled that she was taking a break from work. A much deserved holiday. An ironic giggle threatened to surface. She’d been doing a lot of that lately—giggling—and she had only Priya to thank for it. At her age, she ought to be beyond giggles. She scoffed at the notion; who cared what society thought about her? If she wanted to giggle with joy at her age, then she would. If she took a holiday from her job for a week, she could do that too.

  “I can’t believe that was all over such a petty grudge as a cricket game.”

  Priya tilted her head. “The game was an excuse to avoid his own truth. He resents people like Ashwin and I because we seem to have been given it all. I understand, to some extent, because I spent years trying to prove myself.”