Knotted Legacy

by Brenda Murphy

  Lucia’s bright laugh made Martha’s heart full, and she laughed with her. Lucia made her face serious and mimed locking her lips shut. “Mum’s the word.”

  “You too, Millie.” Martha tapped her driver on the shoulder, a mock-threatening tone in her voice.

  “Aye, Ma’am.” The chauffeur’s broad shoulders shook with her laughter. “Even I’m not brave enough to carry a tale like that.” She met Martha’s gaze in the mirror. “It’s good to hear you laugh again, Ma’am, if it’s not too bold for me to say.”

  “When has being too bold ever stopped you from saying anything? And thank you, Millie, it feels good to laugh.”

  “I’ve got a podcast I want to listen to, Ma’am. Do you mind if I put the screen up?”

  “It’s fine.”

  The dark screen between the front seat and the rear of the limousine slid into place.

  Lucia angled her body toward Martha. “If it’s been so long since you’ve laughed, I am honored it is with me.” Her gaze was warm.

  When was the last time anyone looked at me like I’m the most interesting woman in the world? Like they wanted to know me. Martha let herself get lost in the deep blue-green of Lucia’s eyes. “I’m pleased you wanted to have lunch with me. I only have one hard limit for our outing. No business talk.”

  “I think I can agree to your limit.” Lucia rolled the edge of her coat between her fingers. “Have you lived on Skye always?”

  “Other than university and graduate school, yes. And you? Where’s home for you?”

  Lucia looked out of the window before she brought her gaze back to Martha’s face. “Anywhere and everywhere. Other than my time with Madame, I’ve never settled anywhere long.”

  “Why?” Martha adjusted her seat belt and shifted in her seat, her knee bumping Lucia’s leg. “Excuse me.”

  “Not at all. I’m one of those people who like to see what’s around the bend. I blame it on my mother. We never stayed anywhere longer than three years.”

  “Was she in the military?”

  “Foreign service.” She frowned. “I lost her when I was sixteen.”

  “I’m so sorry. Losing a parent is hard. Losing one at such a young age must have been unbearable.” She bit her lip. “Elaine was an infant and I was two when our parents died.” She looked down at her hands. Martha had only wispy bits of memories of her parents, and for a moment she envied Lucia the time she had had with her mother. She brought her gaze back to Lucia’s face and touched the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, this conversation took a very wrong turn. I wanted today to be pleasant, not stressful.”

  Lucia smiled at her. “It’s okay. I started it.”

  Martha sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “What do you like to do when you’re not working?”

  Lucia met her gaze. “Travel. Read. Take photographs. Madame arranged a photography apprenticeship for me with Ms. Abiola. She was a wonderful teacher.”

  “Vivian is delightful. She captures the soul of whatever she photographs. Her work is incredible.” Martha looked out of the window and pointed to the mountains in the distance. “She always says we have some of the best light and most dramatic landscape in the world.”

  Lucia’s eyes were bright. “I brought my photography equipment with me. Do you think you could arrange a trip to the Storr for me? And the Fairy Pools?”

  “Of course. Whenever you’d like. Millie is at your disposal. You only need to watch the weather; it can change fast this time of year. We might have a good view of the Minch today.” She looked out the window at the clouds gathering over the mountains. “Why photography?”

  “I spent a lot of my young life on the other side of the lens. I wanted to make my own images.”

  A model? Makes sense. “What is your favorite thing to photograph?”

  “I like landscapes, and travel photography. I wish I were better at portrait photography. I studied with Ms. Abiola, but I’ve not the disposition for it.”

  “Why?

  “No patience with the models.” Lucia pressed her mouth into a thin line.

  Martha laughed.

  “What?” Lucia arched her brow.

  “You’ve not patience for people?”

  Lucia arched her brow. “I struggled with the models’ limits.”

  Martha smiled at her. “Tell me more.”

  Lucia launched into a long talk about her photography, and Martha took it all in, appreciating her passion and imagining what else could make her so animated, enjoying their relaxed conversation. The ride was over too soon.

  Millie opened the door and they exited the car. “What time should I be back to pick you up, Ma’am? Cook texted me with a request.”

  Martha smiled at her. “Later then. We should be done by half three.”

  She held out her arm, and Lucia clasped it. Martha steadied her as they walked to the door, the rough stones in the parking lot a challenge for Lucia’s heels. Martha held the door open, and Lucia stepped inside. The dining room was crowded, the room warm. Martha helped Lucia off with her coat and hung it on the peg by the door before she shrugged out of her coat and hung it up next to hers. Lucia wore an emerald-green dress. Nipped in at the waist, it showed off her full figure to perfection. Her hair was fixed with silver combs and swept up in a mass of curls. Martha caught herself staring at Lucia and busied herself with tucking her gloves into her coat pocket. Lucia passed Martha her hat, and she hung it next to her own battered fedora.

  The host greeted them, and Martha approached the small wooden stand where he stood. “MacLeod. For two.”

  The host nodded and made a note in his ledger. He looked at Lucia then brought his gaze back to Martha’s eyes. “The occasion?”

  Martha lifted her shoulders, straightening her posture, and forced a smile. “A free afternoon.”

  The host tilted his head at Martha. “As good a reason as any. This way.”

  He led them to a small table next to the fireplace. Located on the side of the dining room, it offered privacy. He held out Lucia’s chair first then Martha’s. “Matthew will be serving you today.” He left them with the wine list and the menu.

  Lucia picked up her menu. She studied it, and Martha took advantage of her distraction and studied her. Her loose curls were pulled back, displaying her long neck, and the low neckline of her dress showed off the swell of her breasts. Her brown skin glowed in the firelight reflecting off the white stone, making her blue-green eyes even more stark in her face.

  “It all looks so good. Can we have the tasting menu?” She placed her menu on the table.

  “Sounds perfect. It’s what I usually order. They have a wine flight they serve with it. It’s nice to let someone else make the decisions.”

  Lucia tilted her head and fixed Martha with her gaze. “It is. As long as you trust the other to make the right choices.” Her voice was the same she had used with Robin, soft yet unyielding, quietly insistent, the voice of a woman so secure in her power she knew her words would be obeyed without question no matter the volume.

  Martha’s body responded to her tone. She took a sip of her water before she answered. “Indeed. It only works if it’s so.” Her clit was hard as she thought about the way Lucia had bound Robin. What would be like to be so restrained, to have no choice but to obey, to trust another enough with your body and emotion? Like it is with Madame. But for how long? Would it go both ways? What would it be like to have her under me? Would she give over to me?

  The waiter arrived and took their order, and they passed over their menus.

  Lucia looked around the dining room. “I want to memorize this room, all the small details so when I think of this meal I’ll be able to close my eyes and remember it. I’ll be right back here. A perfect day. A perfect meal.” She brought her gaze back to Martha’s eyes. “Perfect company.”

  Martha flushed. The sincerity in Lucia’s voice fanned the tiny flame of hope in her chest. Could this be more? Does she want more than lunch? I want it to be more. Please let
it be more. She held Lucia’s gaze and let her desire show. Unguarded, she opened herself to Lucia.

  The waiter arrived with their wine, breaking the moment. Martha stifled a groan. She sipped her wine. She met Lucia’s gaze over the rim of her glass. “To more perfect days.”

  Lucia touched her glass to Martha’s before she took a sip. She raised her glass. “To unexpected pleasures.” She sipped her wine. She set her glass aside and slid her tongue over her lower lip.

  Sincere? Or calculated? The hum of the dining room faded as Martha focused all her attention on the enchanting woman sitting across from her. She stilled and studied her. Is it an act? To please Madame? Is this real? Is she playing me? What does she want? “What are you doing?”

  “Having a marvelous lunch.” Lucia smiled a half smile. “Enjoying your company.”

  “It’s more than that.” Martha lowered her voice and leaned forward. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

  “How am I doing?” Lucia swallowed the rest of her wine and placed the glass on the table. She smiled at Martha and fixed her with a gaze full of mischief and challenge.

  Martha met her gaze. “I’ll let you know after dessert.”

  SMALL PLATES OF deliciously fresh local food arrived at the table, each more luscious than the last. They devoured each course, savoring the perfectly paired wine and food, sharing the bounty of Skye. Their conversation drifted as they talked about everything, and nothing, as free as an unmoored boat. Martha let go of her Mistress persona and allowed herself to relax into Lucia’s company.

  The flawlessly plated dessert arrived. A marmalade pudding for Lucia and a Drambuie custard for Martha.

  Lucia sat back in her chair. “It’s so lovely. I hate destroying it to eat it.” She picked up her spoon and dug into the pudding. She closed her eyes, and Martha watched as she ate, her face reflecting her enjoyment of the sumptuous dessert. So beautiful. Her mouth. I’ve got to have her. Did you see this, Madame? Is it what you wanted? Does she want me? Or is she just honoring you?

  Martha plunged her spoon into the crisped topping of her Drambuie custard. The sweet, hot taste of the liqueur blended with the smooth-textured custard filled her mouth.

  Lucia spooned up a bit of her pudding. “Would you like a bite? It is exquisite.” She held the spoon out.

  Martha observed Lucia’s expression as she ate the offered treat from her spoon. She didn’t miss the flare of desire as it crossed Lucia’s face.

  Martha finished her bite and wiped her mouth. “Perfect.” She dipped her spoon into her custard and offered it to Lucia. “Would you like a taste of mine?”

  “Yes. Please.” Eyes wide, Lucia reached across the table and clasped her wrist, her fingers firm, holding her still as her mouth closed over the spoon. She released her and shut her eyes as she swallowed. Martha’s pulse sped up as she watched, wondering what it would be like to kiss her plump perfectly shaped lips. Lucia opened her eyes and smiled at Martha. “So good. If we come here again, I’m going to order both for dessert.”

  “I’ll share more of mine if you’d like.” Martha moved the custard ramekin closer to Lucia. “Here.”

  Lucia smiled at her. “I don’t want to be greedy. And I don’t have anything to give you.” She pointed with her spoon at the empty dish in front of her.

  “Go on.” Martha sat back in her chair. “I like watching you eat.”

  Lucia smiled at her, and Martha let herself get lost in her gaze. She pulled the ramekin closer to her side of the table. “Thank you. I confess to having a huge sweet tooth.”

  Martha’s phone vibrated in her pocket, and she pulled it out and read the number on the screen. “Excuse me.” She left the table and hurried outside to answer her phone. The cold air hit her as she stepped out into a thick drizzle. She flipped up the collar of her suit jacket against the cold and thumbed the screen to answer the call. “Millie?”

  “Ma’am, I’ve had a bit of trouble with the car. I won’t be able to make it back to pick you up.” Her anxious tone set Martha’s nerves on edge.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m fine, but the car’s going to need some work. I hope Cook has a bunch of mutton recipes.”

  Martha breathed out the breath she had been holding. “Don’t worry about the car. I’m glad you’re all right.” She shivered as the icy rain pelted her. “We’ll be fine. When do you think you could be here?”

  “Not until late, at least eight, Mistress. I’m waiting for the tow now.”

  “Don’t worry, Millie. We’ll find a way home. Or stay here.”

  “I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

  “The only thing that matters is you’re not hurt. Stay safe till the tow truck arrives.”

  “Thank you, Ma’am.”

  She pressed the button, ending her call. The rain had turned to sleet, the icy pellets bouncing off the pavers leading to the door. She hurried back into the restaurant. Martha brushed the tiny bits of ice clinging to her suit to the floor. We could wait in the lounge. Or stay. Would she say yes? She stopped at the desk. “When I made my reservation, I originally reserved a room at the house over-by. I canceled the room a few days ago. Do you know if it’s still available?”

  “I’ll check, Ms. MacLeod. We’ve had some cancelations because of the weather.”

  She returned to the table. Lucia looked up at her concern on her face. “Trouble?”

  Martha sat down and took a sip of her wine. “Millie had an accident with the car.”

  Lucia frowned. “Is she all right?”

  “She’s fine, though I can’t say the same for the sheep she hit. But she won’t be able to pick us up. Just as well, the roads will be a mess. The drizzle has turned to thick rain and sleet.”

  Lucia picked up her wine. “I imagine taxis are sparse here.”

  “I asked if they would be able to accommodate us.”

  “Overnight? How could they? I’ve heard you have to make reservations a year in advance.” A fine tremor shook Lucia’s hand. She drained her wineglass and placed it on the table and lowered her chin to her chest.

  Afraid? After all of her flirting? Martha tapped the table to draw her gaze. “When I made this reservation, I also reserved a room. I asked if it was still available.”

  Lucia met her gaze. “That’s why he asked about the occasion. You’d arranged to come here with someone else. They couldn’t make it and now anyone will do?” She frowned at Martha. “Of course. Why waste a reservation? Was it your plan all along? Bring me here assuming I’d want to pay for my meal in trade?”

  Stung by her assumption, a flash of anger filled Martha. “No. Forget I asked. I’ll call the house. Elaine can have one of the others risk their lives driving over wet, icy, single-track roads to pick us up. We can wait in the lounge.” She sat back in her chair and looked away from Lucia’s face. She twisted her napkin into a tight knot, trying to get her anger under control. What the hell happened? From pleasant flirtation to this? Fuck me. She’s playing me. It’s a game to her. Not real. Why did I think it might be? Why did I let myself get caught up? She’s playing a part to honor Madame. Fuck me.

  Their waiter appeared to clear the table. “Ms. MacLeod, the host wanted me to let you know we can accommodate you and—” he glanced at Lucia “—your friend.”

  “Thank you. We won’t be—”

  “Marvelous, thanks so much.” Lucia spoke over Martha and flashed a broad smile at the waiter.

  The waiter smiled back at her. “I’ll let him know.”

  Martha waited until the waiter left them to meet Lucia’s gaze. “Sudden change of heart? Or did you decide it’s what Madame would want you to do?” She leaned toward Lucia and lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. “Let me make one thing clear to you. I don’t want, or expect, anything from you. Not now. Not ever. I agreed to Madame’s request out of respect for her. I will provide a place for you to work, if you choose to, and live, nothing more.” She pinned Lucia in place with her gaze, letting her anger show in her
eyes. “I’m not sure what impression you’ve formed of me, but I am not desperately seeking your attention. Do not mistake my kindness for weakness. I’m not easily taken in. Not anymore. I don’t need this. Or you.” She sat back in her chair and straightened her posture, willing her anger to subside, and failing miserably. “And if you think I have any plans on sharing a room here with you after your comments, you’re drunk, or high. Fuck you. And fuck your ridiculous pitiful attempt at seduction.”

  She shoved her chair back. Her abrupt movement drew the eyes of some of the other diners. She ignored their stares and picked up the bill jacket. “I’ll be outside. Wait in the lounge. I’ll find you when the car gets here.”

  Martha kept her head down as she crossed to the restaurant. What the hell was I thinking? Fuck her. Fuck Madame. She’s a professional playing a part. I’m an idiot. Fuck me, why did I ask her to lunch? There were other customers ahead of her when she arrived at the host stand. She clenched her jaw and crossed her arms as she waited while they took selfies before they collected their coats.

  A hand on her shoulder made her turn. Lucia was close to her. She met Martha’s gaze. “Forgive me. I’m sorry. So sorry. Could we stay?”

  Her voice was contrite, but her eyes betrayed nothing as Martha studied them. The customers left, and a blast of sleet and wind spilled through the door. Martha chewed her lip. If anything happened to anyone because of my anger, I’d never forgive myself. “As you wish. But nothing’s changed. The only reason I’m agreeing to this is because I don’t want to endanger any of my staff in this weather.”

  Lucia lowered her chin, avoiding Martha’s eyes. “Understood.”

  “Ms. MacLeod? Your room is ready. If you go down the hall to the left, the reception desk has your key.”

  Martha plucked her fedora from its peg and carried her coat over her arm. She stalked down the hall, her head high, jaw tight, not looking to see if Lucia followed.

  Chapter Seven

  MARTHA SIGNED THE forms at the reception desk.

  “We’ll have a table for you at dinner, Ms. MacLeod. It comes with the room reservation, and there will be a full breakfast in the morning.” The clerk slid the key to the front of the counter.