by Annie Dyer
“There is something else I need to talk to you about.” I braced myself again. “A few weeks ago, I reconnected with an old school friend, and things have developed quickly between us.”
“Who are they?”
I noticed the slight wobble in Lady S’s voice and the choice of pronoun. We had at least managed to make some progress with her.
“Imogen Green. You might know her father – Aiden Green. He…”
“I know who Aiden Green is. We met him at those dreadful sports days your school held. And through various other things.” She shook her head. “Lovely family, lovely girl too.” Her eyes didn’t leave mine.
I took that breath again. “The thing is, I know it’s soon, and everything with Carla, but Imogen and I have decided to get married.”
My mother sipped her tea again.
“I know it’s very quick, and it’s only just gone public that Carla and I have decided to end things, but we’re planning to get married.” I watched the cup of tea, worried that Lady S would drop it in horror.
She didn’t. She’d never do something that undignified. Instead it was carefully placed down in the saucer.
“A small wedding. At Grandfa’s home. Family and very close friends.” Which still meant a couple of hundred people. “Carla’s aware.”
“Is this why you and Carla separated?”
“It’s the reason we aren’t getting back together, but no.” Which was kind of the truth.
My mother poured more tea. If it was after two, it would’ve been more gin. “Noah, I worry about you.”
“I worry about myself.” That was definitely not a lie.
She sighed. “When do I get to meet Imogen? And her parents again? You need a woman in your life who’ll be able to organise you a little. Give you a purpose for getting up in a morning with vigour rather than dragging yourself out of bed because you have to work for your family business…”
“That isn’t true. You know I love the charity work, and I don’t mind overseeing the estates.” It was rare any of us interrupted Lady S, but I didn’t want her thinking I didn’t like my life. I was privileged, and only too aware of how good a life I actually had with nothing to worry about in terms of finances or opportunity.
“I know. I just wish you’d found someone when you were younger, like Angus did.” She smiled a little.
I understood what she meant. Angus adored Vivi. He would walk across hot coals for her and back again; we all knew that.
“Maybe I’ve found someone now.” I thought of Imogen, with her honey-coloured hair, and eyes that didn’t miss anything that went on around her. For moment, I wished this was a proper wedding, where we were in love with each other, rather than an easy solution for both of us.
Lady S looked towards the door, her key tell that this was over. “I hope you have, Noah, I really do. How soon are you planning to have this wedding? Next year?”
“Next month.”
That was as close to choking I’d ever seen her.
“Next month. Noah, what exactly are you thinking?”
It was a fair question, and one I’d asked myself a few times recently. “I want Grandfa to be there and to know what’s going on.”
She closed her eyes. I couldn’t tell if it was from exasperation or sadness. Maybe a combination of the two.
“Noah…” she shook her head. “I need to decide what my response to this is. We’ll speak later.”
I stood up, aware I was being dismissed.
“Have your fiancée arrange to come to my house at the weekend so I can meet her with you. I don’t care what other plans she has; I’ll expect her – and you – to be there.”
“Thank you, mother.” I made my exit. A well-timed exit was key when dealing with Lady Soames. Leave it too long and she might murder you with a glare.
The knock at the door was exactly when the clock in the hall struck six. It was an old clock, grandfather style, and I didn’t recall it ever having stopped. Grandfa liked to keep old things going, and from what Caroline had told me, it was now a fixation. She’d had to stop him from overwinding the clock since they’d been there, mainly because he forgot when he’d done it.
Today was a good day for him. He remembered what he’d had for breakfast, remembered my name and that he’d seen my mother that morning, and we’d had a game of chess while we’d waited for Imogen to arrive. Spending time with him soothed whatever Lady S had unruffled this afternoon and made the decision to marry Imogen all the more sensible.
I answered the door, taking a step back when I saw how Imogen looked. She was always well-dressed; the couple of times I seen her recently she’d been wearing tailored trouser suits, and because I was male and liked women, I’d noticed exactly how tailored they were, especially around her ass.
This evening, she wore a dress. Nothing revealing or what you’d even go to a meal in, but a knee length, slightly fitted thing in a blue pattern. It was something Lady S would approve of, but at the same time, it gave me enough of an idea of the shape of her breasts and the curve of her hips to hold back a groan.
I’d met and been introduced to enough wannabe socialites and daughters and nieces of my mother’s friends to know how women would try to reel men with money in through dresses and outfits that looked the part but had a hint of too much of something – usually they were too short to quite fit in or the neck too low cut or it was too tight. On a date, or in a club, it wouldn’t be an issue, but in front of my family who were the very definition of old manners, it was.
Imogen somehow had it right, and it was leaving me a little open-mouthed.
“Thank you for coming over.” I held the door open, Malcolm, my grandfather’s butler hovering in case I made a mess of something.
She shook her head and took off her coat. I somehow found the wiles to take it off her, remembering the manners I’d drowned by growing up.
“I want to meet your grandfather. Will there be a chance here to go through what we need to talk about?”
Malcolm took her coat from me before I could leave it somewhere I shouldn’t. I swallowed and tried to recover the faculties I was meant to possess, not act like some dumb ass who had no clue what to say, although that was pretty much how I felt.
“There will. I have a suite when I stay here – which isn’t often. Just a bedroom and study, with a sitting room. I can have coffee or cocktails brought up to us there, if that suits you. Or I can reserve a table somewhere if you’d prefer that. I know this house can be fairly intimidating…”
Her light laugh interrupted me. “Here would be lovely. Can we have ten minutes in private before I meet your Grandfa?” She looked from me to Malcolm who was still hanging around. “I haven’t seen you since yesterday.”
Realisation hit me, which it probably needed to do a bit harder. She was starting the part, a lover happy to see her man, and I was standing here like a bumbling fool.
“Malcolm, could you bring us some tea into the sitting room?” I looked over at Malcolm, who just raised an eyebrow, before giving me a slight nod, and finally leaving us alone.
“Seriously, Noah, you’re going to have to up your fiancé game if you want everyone to believe that this is for real.” Imogen poked me on the shoulder. Hard. “How would you greet Carla if you saw her just after you’d gotten engaged?”
I shrugged. “I wasn’t a very good boyfriend or fiancé.” This was probably an understatement.
“Okay,” she sighed. “How do you think you should greet me?”
I pushed my hand through my hair. “How do you want me to? Isn’t that a better start? I don’t know what we do around you know, public displays of affection or… or kissing. What do we do about kissing?”
Imogen put her hands on my shoulders and pressed her lips to mine, completely shutting me up. For a moment I was frozen, my breath had been stolen, until the baser part of my brain kicked in. I put my hands on her hips, one moving over the curve of her backside, and then I took over the kiss.
&n
bsp; I’d never really touched Imogen Green before. There had been a peck to my cheek, and a few knocks of legs and pats on backs, but nothing more and nothing deliberate.
This was deliberate, but not what I thought Imogen had planned or expected. Her mouth opened for me, and I tasted mint and sweetness. I nipped at her bottom lip before slipping my tongue into her mouth again, one of my hands now firmly on her arse, the other at the back of her neck, fingers pushing into her hair.
My cock hardened, and I was pretty sure she’d be able to feel it through her dress, my trousers not going to hide anything. If she was going to change her mind, it would be now. This was not how we should be starting our agreement, for many reasons, especially now I knew exactly how her ass felt under my hand and had heard the tiny moan she made when I bit her lip.
I didn’t let her go when the kiss ended, keeping her pressed to me. “I’m not sure that’s how you should greet me in front of my mother. It’s caused a bit of a situation.”
I half expected her to move, tell me this was a bad idea and leave, but she didn’t.
“I think we put that in the ‘private only’ section,” she said, with lips that were now swollen. Her pupils were wide and there was a flush to her cheeks that told me she wasn’t unaffected by what we’d just done.
“Just putting it out there that you kissed me first.” I didn’t let her respond, backing her through the door to the siting room and kissing her again, this time slowing it down. I had no idea what was ultimately going to be in her agreement, so I wanted a repeat of the experience in case it wasn’t to happen again.
She responded by letting her own hands wander, over my back and then down to my arse, where she dug in her fingertips, before leading them between us and running one over my now solid cock, then up my body to my shoulders.
It was Malcolm’s cough that made the kiss stop. I moved slightly, shielding Imogen from Malcolm’s view, although to be fair, he’d caught me in more compromising positions.
“I’ve told your grandfather that Imogen is here. He’d like to meet her for champagne and canapes in about thirty minutes, so you have some time to become reacquainted.” Malcolm didn’t even slightly smile.
I nodded. “Thank you. Let my grandfather know we’ll be there.” I waited for him to leave before letting Imogen go.
Her gaze dropped down to my cock.
“Will you be presentable in thirty minutes?” Her smile was cocky and amused.
I shook my head. “I’ll just imagine my mother walking in on us. That should do it.”
“And what would we be doing when your mother walked in?” Now she was being downright wicked. Her eyes glimmered and when she stopped speaking, she bit her tongue between her teeth.
I shook my head. “I’ll tell you another time.”
“I look forward to it.”
“Imogen…” Her name was a groan from my throat. “Where do we start with this? Before you kissed me, we were talking about how I should greet you when I saw you. Unless that kiss has changed your mind about the whole thing, I probably need some rules here.” My cock was still far too awake. I sat down and pulled a cushion onto my lap, feeling a slight bit embarrassed.
She took the chair opposite. The room was a large one, decorated in muted colours of grey and brown. It was relaxing and comfortable, which had been Caroline’s choice, and it worked.
“We have to behave like a normal couple. When my family and friends see us together, they’ll expect you to kiss me – maybe not like that – and touch. When it’s your family, I assume they’ll appreciate a little more formality. What do your brothers do with their partners?” She crossed her legs, her dress riding up an inch, exposing tanned skin.
“I don’t like to think about what my brothers do with their partners.” I grinned, dodging the cushion that came flying at me.
“Be serious.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She threatened to throw another cushion.
“Robbie and his husband are really subtle. Angus and Vivi are over the top. He’s very handsy with her.” I was pretty sure he did it on purpose to irritate Her Ladyship.
“What about your parents?”
“They’re in their seventies and I think Lady Soames considers sex unsanitary.” I felt nauseous talking about it. “I’ve never seen my father even touch my mother, apart from a hand on her shoulder once.”
Imogen raised her eyebrows at me. “Okay. Let’s go somewhere in the middle. Small touches. Closed mouth kisses. You always sit next to me when we dine with them. Be attentive.” She wagged her finger. “Pay attention. You need to think that I’m the most important person in your world and act like that.”
“If we were getting married for real, you would be.” It was obvious, wasn’t it?
“Is that how you acted with Carla?”
“Point made.” I just grinned. “What about other stuff. We’re getting married unless my kissing skills weren’t up to scratch.”
“Your kissing skills were fine. Other stuff…” She reached into the handbag next to her and rummaged around, pulling out a notebook. “After we get married, where are we living?”
“My house. Unless you want me to move into yours?”
She shook her head. “I live with my sisters. It would be the seventh circle of hell for you. Duration of marriage – I suggest eleven months, unless one of us is unhappy and in which case we make our feelings known and discuss a way forward.”
“Fine. What if it needs to be longer?”
“We discuss what we plan to do at ten months in. Then decide. How’s that?”
“Perfect.”
She made a note in her book. “Sex. No sex with anyone else, for obvious reasons.”
“What about sex with each other?”
Imogen’s eyes widened and she dropped her book into her lap.
“You can obviously tell I found that kiss a turn on, and I’m pretty sure you weren’t hating it. If we’re not having sex with anyone else, and we’re married, is sex between us off the table?” My cock was definitely getting the wrong message now.
Imogen’s eyes went to where the cushion was on my lap, and I swore I saw her lick her lips.
“It’s not off the table. But it isn’t a given either. I’ve had enough great kisses that were followed up with really bad sex, and if the sex between us is bad – this marriage would be doomed. The eleven months would be more painful than having your testicles teased by an exotic dancer through a window.” She recrossed her legs. “Let’s see how it goes. Besides, if we said sex between us was against the rules, we’d both want nothing more than to break that rule.”
“True.” I wanted to know more about these kisses and the bad sex, and then I wanted to kiss her again and prove it wouldn’t lead to bad sex. But what I needed to be doing, was focusing on what she was saying and not on that or on her legs. “What about finances?”
“I’ve drawn up an agreement here.” She went in her bag again and pulled out a plastic file with papers inside. “You need to read it. It protects both of us financially – neither of us have any claim on the others, other than we can keep whatever gifts the other gives. I don’t pay you rent or any upkeep towards expenses in the home – but I save the money I would save on rent and utilities.” She looked over at me, as I expected she looked at her clients when she was going through a particularly complex contract.
I folded my arms. My dick had quietened when she started talking about money. “You don’t need to save your rent – spend it on what you like. You’re doing me a favour. Write into that agreement that in the case of any divorce, I am to buy you an apartment in an area of London of your choice, or to allow you to stay in one of the family’s properties rent free for a duration of twenty-five years. Then I’ll consider signing it.”
She laughed. “Noah, the only reason my sisters and I are renting is because we haven’t decided where each of us wants to buy yet. It’s nothing to do with money. I can look after myself financially. But I
don’t want it to look like I’m taking the piss.”
I nodded. “So, what can I do for you? Like we said, you’re giving up plenty here.”
Imogen shrugged, leaving her seat, and handing me the paperwork. “You’re giving me a break from the pressures of dating and being set up with men who are just a waste of my time. I get a year to settle into my life without any pressures.”
“Apart from when people say, ‘now you’re married, are you going to have children’, because that’s what will happen.” I saw it happen with Gus and Vivi. Vivi had almost battered one aunt with her own handbag when she’d asked. As it happened, Vivi had been pregnant at the time – she just hadn’t known.
“Let’s just say we’re practising and make them blush.” Imogen smiled. “Your lovely person’s here with the tea.”
Malcolm entered the room, knocking briefly first, and deposited the tea on the table, pouring it out straight away in the same manner he’d been using since I was a small boy.
“Your grandfather has opened the best bottle of champagne he could find. He’s most excited to meet Miss Imogen.” Malcolm stood up and gave her a slight nod. “Mercifully he doesn’t remember your predecessor.”
I almost choked. “You didn’t like Carla?”
Malcolm shook his head. “I’m aware my opinions are meant to be simple thoughts that exit my head and not my mouth, Noah, but I found her rather cheap. I’m pleased you have decided on a different sort of future. My congratulations to you both.” He took a few backwards steps and exited the room.
“Is this seriously your life?” Imogen looked at me in what I wanted to be awe but was more likely horror. “When I knew you at school, I just thought you grew in a big house and your mother knew the queen.”
I laughed. “That’s kind of true, although she doesn’t really know the queen. She’s met her, but it’s not like they have each other on speed dial.” I’d met the queen once, but I’d still been wearing short trousers, so I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.
She took her tea. “I can understand why Carla was so keen to put a ring on it.”
