Phantasmagoria

by Madelynne Ellis

  ‘You must tell us all you know about the party,’ gushed Mae, the youngest, a pretty, buxom girl. ‘Mr Tristan won’t divulge a thing.’

  Henry raised his hands, once again dangling his ubiquitous cane. ‘I’ve told you ladies. I’m equally in the dark. I have neither Pennerley’s ear nor that of his ghostly ancestors.’

  ‘Vicomte,’ Alicia appealed. ‘You must know something.’

  ‘Alas, I’m sworn to secrecy.’ He retreated to a safe distance with Gabriel and a wine decanter. Bella cynically wondered if he’d had his way with the younger man and whether the new arrival would divert his attention away from Vaughan.

  ‘Blow it!’ Mae stamped her foot. ‘I only want to know if it’s going to be gruesome so I know which of Aunt Bea’s smelling salts to bring.’

  ‘Oh, the mildest,’ said the eldest in all seriousness. ‘It won’t hurt for her to be out a fraction longer.’ While the girls laughed, Henry raised his eyebrows.

  ‘I won’t ask why you’re here, Miss Fortuna,’ he remarked.

  She tapped him coquettishly with her fan. ‘You know perfectly well.’ She smiled again, showing off her dimples. ‘Father was quite against it, said I shouldn’t be exposed to a fiend like Pennerley, but Mother and Aunt Beatrice talked him round. I think Mama wanted to come herself but she’s far too busy organising Sarah’s wedding.’

  Henry smiled benignly while the other two girls gave theatrical sighs. ‘Are they still holding out for Hector Macleane for you?’

  Fortuna’s dimpled smile twisted into a petulant moue. ‘I shan’t have him. I told Father so. The man is a capital bore and a glutton. I said I’d rather have Pennerley. He has far nicer thighs.’

  ‘And a far bigger castle …’

  ‘And a far badder reputation,’ tittered the younger two. ‘Tunie just wants to be devoured by a wolf.’

  ‘Or a vampire …’

  ‘Or a ghoul …’

  ‘Or a ghost …’ They raised their hands like claws and swooped at her, sending Fortuna shrieking and skittering about the floor.

  ‘Girls,’ chastened Aunt Beatrice. ‘What will our host think? Calm yourselves immediately, we will have decorum.’

  They skidded to a halt, lined up neatly before her for inspection. ‘We’ll have no more lewd talk. If Lord Pennerley cares to notice you, you may respond in an appropriate manner. Meanwhile you will keep your ridiculous notions of marriage and phantasms to yourselves.’

  Although the rebuke was not levelled in her direction, Bella’s heart gave a fearful jolt. Joshua’s lectures had only ever instilled defiance, but Aunt Beatrice spoke in a tone that cut to the quick, leaving her three charges open-mouthed and scarlet. They each bowed their heads and gave her deferential curtsies.

  Niamh slipped her arm around Bella’s and drew her to the window. ‘Don’t worry,’ she soothed. ‘She doesn’t stand a chance. He hasn’t even said hello to them yet.’

  There was no need to ask whom she meant. Vaughan was conspicuously absent despite the influx of guests.

  ‘At all?’

  ‘I think Gabriel got a vague nod.’

  ‘Well, I suppose he was a bit …’ She strove for the right term, which failed to appear.

  ‘He was horrid,’ supplied Niamh. ‘He made a total mockery of my feelings and laughed the whole way back.’ She cupped her hands over her face. ‘I’ve never felt so ashamed.’

  ‘Oh, fie,’ said Bella. ‘The only shame is that he stopped your Edward pleasuring you. I dare say you’d have more of a smile if he’d had his way.’

  ‘Bella! Must you be so crude?’ A delicate coral blush chased across her cheeks and chest. She gave a shy smile which faded far too quickly. ‘I do wish Raffe hadn’t seen me. I fear for what he’ll do.’

  ‘What can he do?’

  ‘He could ruin me. Probably will if I don’t agree to marry him. He asked, you know, last night in the solar.’

  ‘You only spoke for a moment.’ Bella strained to keep the incredulity from her voice. He’d proposed marriage and tried to procure her as his mistress. She hadn’t given him nearly enough credit. He was an absolute scoundrel. Alas, she had a soft spot for scoundrels.

  Lips tightly pursed, Bella stepped up into one of the window seats. Niamh followed and they sat, facing one another.

  ‘What does Vaughan say about it?’

  ‘That I needn’t have him, but I can’t have Edward either, and that he’ll be far less gentle if he ever catches me making a fool of myself with a man again.’ Frown lines crinkled her brow, which Bella tried to rub away with her thumb.

  ‘Naught to worry about,’ she reassured. ‘Just make sure he never catches you.’

  The remark raised a laugh, forgotten a moment later. Niamh’s gaze turned to the window. A gaggle of geese were launching themselves into the moat, sending ripples across the surface. ‘I expect he’d find out somehow, and I’m not at all sure I want pursue that course again.’

  Bella squinted at the geese, thoroughly confused. ‘Whatever do you mean?’

  ‘I never intended it to go that far. I was just pleased to know that Edward was fine after Raffe hit him.’

  ‘Niamh, did he try to force you?’

  ‘No.’ She lowered her gaze. ‘I’m not at all sure. It was happening so quickly.’

  Bella saw that her situation had suddenly become a lot more difficult. If Vaughan had suspected that his sister was in any way unwilling, he would have shot to kill and Niamh must have realised that too. She seemed to react to Bella’s perplexity.

  ‘It’s all right,’ Niamh said. ‘Really it is. I’m just confused. I wanted him, truly I did.’

  Bella wondered if she was trying to convince herself. Maybe Vaughan was right about Edward. If he’d taken her maidenhead, then he might have felt in a stronger position to claim her hand, while holding her reputation to ransom.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure,’ she said. She climbed down from the window seat. ‘I think I’ll go and change for dinner now.’ The other guests had left the hall with the exception of Henry who still lingered by the fire. ‘Don’t fret. It’ll come right. I’ll speak with Vaughan, see if I can exert any influence.’

  The offer was met with mute acceptance and tremulous nod.

  As Bella trod the stairs to her room, she reflected on her offer. Talking to Vaughan was hard enough at the moment without raising another touchy subject. But she wanted to hear the truth about Niamh’s suitor.

  Niamh resumed pacing the floor, once Bella departed. The window seat couldn’t contain her. She paced, five paces up, five paces back, ten pace up, ten paces back. Was Edward all right? She thought he’d been hit in the leg but it was hard to tell. Hadn’t he stumbled before the gun went off?

  She remembered his kiss, the feel of his mobile lips hard against hers, their tongues melding, and further, deeper revelations, knowledge of the act performed by lovers. The unanticipated reluctance on her part.

  The shock of Vaughan’s arrival had skewed so much. He’d branded them passionless. That was untrue, leastways; it was on Edward’s part. He’d risen admirably to the occasion. Any lack of enthusiasm had been all hers.

  She enjoyed his kisses, but mostly longed for the simple joy of having a companion whom she could trust and who cared for her. Edward’s conversation excited her more assuredly that his touch. His nearness offered comfort and a world devoid of silence. In recent years, Pennerley had been her prison.

  ‘You’ll wear holes in your shoes,’ Henry remarked of her continued pacing. He clattered towards her and came to a halt before her, taller by a head. Niamh avoided his gaze by staring at his stockings. They were shiny cream with crimson bands, and made her smile. Somehow his ludicrous attire made him a deal less threatening than other men.

  ‘Delightful, aren’t they.’

  Niamh jerked her gaze upwards to where his expression bore warmth as well as bemusement. He clasped her hand and pressed it firmly to his arm. ‘Perhaps a step around the walls would better suffice than all
this tiresome pacing.’

  She allowed herself to be led outside, remembering how he’d comforted her earlier, after he’d soothed her skittish mare. He hadn’t plied her with questions or demanded explanations. He’d simply been there, a solid rock of support.

  ‘Are your earlier woes troubling you, or are there further developments?’ He didn’t press for an immediate answer as Raffe or even Edward would have done, didn’t press for an answer at all. ‘I find advice in these situations is general worthless, for only you know the whole story, but for what it’s worth, I’d suggest you don’t pick unnecessary fights with your brother. He’s too stubborn and fond of winning to allow you any real victory, especially in his present frame of mind. Better to find more subtle means to win his approval.’

  ‘That could take years.’

  Henry acknowledged the fact with a sweep of his cane that knocked the heads off several late flowers. ‘Not necessarily. Besides, what’s a little perseverance in the face of a lifetime’s commitment, eh?’

  ‘Naught, I guess.’

  ‘Exactly. Let matters lie a few days, get this carnival of souls over with, and then see what can be negotiated.’

  She nodded her acceptance, and taking out her scissors began to trim a few of the fallen blooms which she presented to him as a nosegay.

  ‘There’s still Raffe.’

  Henry gave her a devilish smile. ‘Oh, confound that fool. It’s not as if he wants you anyway.’

  ‘He could ruin me.’

  He frowned at her as she pinned the flowers to his monumental lapel. ‘That’s a fact of the society we live in. A man can destroy in a few words what a woman can only build with a lifetime of goodness, but only a truly despicable rogue would do so.’ His lips parted and the tip of his tongue wetted their surface. ‘Devonshire isn’t that rogue. He’s his mama’s pawn and she knows how spreading rumours can backfire.’

  Niamh looked up at him for details, but Henry shook his head and smiled.

  ‘Ancient history, my dear, and I’m not a gossipmonger.’

  12

  THE ATMOSPHERE AT Pennerley changed completely with the arrival of Mrs Alvanley. While she was indulgent and compassionate to her adoring nieces, she also took her role as chaperone and the business of their virtue very seriously. Upon learning that Vaughan had omitted to provide a suitably mature hostess for his party, she took it upon herself to ensure decorum and a social pecking order. Thus Bella arrived at dinner to find herself seated well down the table, between Henry Tristan and Mae Allenthorpe, with Fortuna at the top of the table by Vaughan.

  Her position usurped, Bella glowered at the silverware, dumbstruck by the woman’s interfering but at a loss what to do about it. She could only appeal to Vaughan later, assuming they were still permitted to talk to one another. Bella had scared off a good many governesses, but this was outside her experience and therefore unbearable.

  Niamh, scurrying to the table late, came to an abrupt halt behind Aunt Beatrice’s chair, her pretty face contorted with rage. ‘Who has placed me here?’ she demanded.

  ‘Why I have, dear,’ said Mrs Alvanley.

  ‘No.’ She stared at her position next to Raffe Devonshire in disgust. ‘Vaughan,’ she appealed.

  ‘Swap,’ he said.

  Niamh turned immediately to Bella, who hopped up and scampered around the table overjoyed at the vexation she’d cause Fortuna and her aunt. The former scowled hatefully into her soup, and Bella suspected her influence in the seating arrangements. The little gold-digger was out to snare herself a husband.

  With Niamh happily positioned between Mae and Henry, the meal commenced, and an early silence slowly gave way to crisp requests and finally to conversation.

  ‘It was very good of you to invite us,’ Fortuna said to Vaughan. She had dressed in a pale-gold evening dress with a low, rounded neckline, which slipped off her shoulder as she leaned towards her prey.

  Vaughan’s gaze lingered a moment on her rather bony shoulder, then sat back in his chair. ‘You must thank my sister, Miss Allenthorpe. She positively insisted I invite some ladies. Apparently, I’d omitted to do so on the original guest list.’

  ‘Now you jest,’ she accused, tapping his fingers where they lay upon the table edge. ‘How could you forget to invite any women?’

  Vaughan caught Bella’s gaze and smiled. ‘ Oh, I assure you there were many I’d considered, but none entirely suitable according to my sister. Though they all had some admirable qualities.’ His focus shifted to the neckline of her dress. She’d left on the stays she’d worn beneath her riding gown, but had them laced tighter, so that her breasts seemed full and round. Compared with Fortuna, she felt positively overendowed.

  ‘Yes, a truly accomplished lady is hard to come by,’ said Fortuna.

  Further down the table, Henry snorted.

  ‘I cannot disagree,’ said Vaughan, ‘and one might say I’ve made it a special study.’

  ‘I see you have competition.’ Raffe’s breath tickled Bella’s ear, as annoying as it was intimate. His presence was the unfortunate side effect of a position at the head of the table. ‘Do you enjoy watching him flirt with other women or are you contemplating stabbing her with a fork?’

  Once again his astonishing directness. If he hadn’t been such an incorrigible lecher, they might even have been friends for that.

  ‘Neither.’ Bella brushed him away. She did find Fortuna’s flirting irritating but suspected that Vaughan would be thoroughly bored by the small talk before long.

  Fortuna sidled closer still to the edge of the table, a wary look cast in Aunt Beatrice’s direction. But the meddlesome chaperone was deeply engaged with Gabriel and Henry Tristan on some matter of public affairs. With a small gasp of relief, Fortuna reapplied her attention to Vaughan.

  ‘Do you always tease so mercilessly, my lord?’

  Yes, thought Bella. You can’t begin to imagine. He could play everyone at this table like an instrument, rouse passions, break hearts and dash hopes, and he was undoubtedly plotting something, for there was a twinkle in his dark eyes and a slyness about his smile. For a horrid moment, she remembered her last conversation with Lucerne, yelling that she would never perform with a woman, not even for Vaughan. Was that where this conversation was leading? Was he planning a show for his own amusement, just to see how far she would go to gain his favour?

  ‘Getting worried?’ Raffe sighed into her ear.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes, you are.’ He squeezed her thigh beneath the cover of the tablecloth. ‘You’ll have to act. Do something to distract him.’ He squeezed her leg again, this time more firmly. ‘I suggest you toss him.’

  ‘What!’ For a moment she completely misunderstood his meaning, but realisation didn’t make her any less scandalised.

  ‘Now, beneath the tablecloth. I guarantee it’ll get you his attention.’

  ‘Is this one of your sick fantasies?’

  His palm edged towards her quaint. ‘I wouldn’t say no. How about you?’

  Bella swiped his hand away and shuffled her chair closer to Vaughan’s. Raffe was simply being outrageous in the hopes of provoking a reaction, but his suggestion might be worth a try. Vaughan rarely flaunted himself publicly. He preferred things more furtive which is why he might find such secretive play beneath the table completely diverting.

  ‘Chicken,’ Raffe mouthed, holding her gaze.

  He couldn’t have said anything more persuasive. If there was one thing she detested, it was being called chicken-hearted. Bella stretched out her hand and traced her fingers lightly over Vaughan’s thigh.

  He stiffened, light flaring in his eyes, but his focus remained firmly on Fortuna, who had given up all pretence of eating and was now leaning so far over the table she was in danger of losing her dress.

  Enthralled with her naughtiness, Bella slid her palm upwards until it covered Vaughan’s sleeping cock and gave him an encouraging pat. She half expected him to push her away. Instead, he settled comfortably w
ith his legs apart, allowing her more space in which to work.

  ‘And what should we expect from your spectacle, my lord?’ Fortuna asked.

  Bella unfastened his breeches. The skin beneath was warm, his soft cock slumbering. It perked at her touch, thickening with only the smallest amount of coaxing.

  ‘Aah!’ He hid a sharp intake of breath behind the exclamation. ‘Telling you would only spoil the surprise. You must allow me my secrets, Miss Allenthorpe, the better to entertain you.’

  He pressed his tongue to his teeth and suppressed another hiss.

  Bella continued the torment. How surprised they’d all be, the faces around the table, if they realised what she was doing. Mrs Alvanley would be scandalised, Gabriel and Niamh would blush, the younger girls would likely faint. She struggled not to grin at the thought of them collapsing, only to wake with a bird’s eye view of her hand working his cock.

  Henry would shake his head, perhaps feigning boredom, while de Maresi, she was sure, would be totally disgusted. Just payback, she considered, for his earlier smugness. As for poor Fortuna, she would realise how successfully her attempts at flirting were being undermined. Vaughan was hers.

  His stomach muscles twitched and his breathing, willed into regularity, faltered. She was getting to him. She could sense his urgency in the line of heat above his cravat.

  ‘Would you pass me a napkin?’ he asked rather abruptly.

  Fortuna happily obliged.

  Vaughan dabbed his lips, then pressed the linen into Bella’s hand, so that it covered the head of his cock. Mere moments and a few tormenting strokes later, he spent into the silver-blue folds, a sharp cough the only visible expressions of his peak.

  Beaming proudly, Bella withdrew her hand and was about to turn to Henry and Niamh when Raffe’s hand alighted upon her knee again, having found a way beneath her petticoats. The cool touch was shocking against her bare thigh. ‘Very impressive.’ He dipped two fingers into the moist heat of her cleft, causing Bella to shift her chair back sharply. It grated loudly, turning heads.