Vanity's Pleasure

by Olivia Gaines

  He sipped the tea and went on to tell his soon to be father-in-law, “I don’t need her to sign anything because she and I will spend our lives together. What is mine will be hers.”

  In Nigel’s mind, there were no means to tell his soon-to-be father-in-law that he was a good man or to establish a measure of trust other than by simply being honest. Honesty was what he was going to give him. “I apologize for us having to meet this way. It is well known that I do not like to fly, but very few people know why.”

  As a teenager, Nigel told him that he and a couple of his friends were returning from holiday in a private plane. The plane crashed into a lake and the aircraft quickly filled with water. “I have never felt so terrified in my life and it felt like it took a lifetime to get those doors opened.” He continued, “Two others and I struggled, but we made it to shore. Our pilot did not, nor did my best mate.”

  He inhaled slowly, “To this day, Sir, I have a horrific fear of flying, small closed-in spaces, and especially flying over water.” Everyone, including Cookie, was listening to him. “Wilhelmina said if I truly wanted to start a life with her, I would have to come and get her.” He looked at her with a gaze that melted her heart, made Khalea smile, and her mother hug herself. “Wilhelmina, I am a man of few shortfalls, but, I will confess, that it took two days of hypnosis, a fortnight with a talented acupuncturist, and poor Finley to sedate me to get me on that blooming plane.” He smiled as he admitted that he awoke after a refueling landing and took another mild sedative before the takeoff to come to Phoenix. “I am still feeling a bit daft, but I am here. I came for your hand and I have no idea of how I am going to make it home.”

  He set the tea cup down and walked over to Vanity. “I did all of that because Wilhelmina is the one for me, and I will deal with any obstacle, hurdle, or fear to make her my wife.” He held her hands and gazed into her eyes, saying the words for her father’s ears but speaking them to Vanity’s heart.

  “When you find the one Sir, there is never a time like the present to begin a future.”

  David Senior looked at his wife. His mouth was twisted in a sarcastic pucker. “This is some bullshit if you ask me! He isn’t fooling anybody. He sees the pretty face and wants to marry some fantasy. We live in the real world. Their children will grow up in the real world, and I will be damned if anyone is going to mistreat my children! Especially my baby!”

  Vanity was surprised and taken aback by her father’s strong emotions, as was Nigel, who spoke up, “Sir, my wife and our children will inherit my titles, my lands, and anything else due my station. I am unclear what you mean...”

  David Sr. cut him off, “Look at me young man. Look at me!”

  His words were as strong and as large as his steps as he crossed the room to stand toe to toe with Nigel, “I am a black man, which means my daughter is a black woman.” He looked at Nigel, waiting for it to come to light. But the Duke was still unclear, and David Sr. was a luminary, “I am saying that to say this...” He paused to drive the point home. “What are you going to do if your children come out as black as me?”

  It wasn’t even in the blink of an eye before Nigel gave him the answer he needed, “I am going to love them. Our children will be conceived in love and raised in it as well. I and my wife are going to raise our children in a house filled with love, nurturing, and support. I don’t care if they are pink, dark brown, or café au lait.”

  He looked at Vanity, “Well, if they come out orange, then it’s her fault—with her love of carrots.” He saw the quick smile on David Sr.’s face flash and then disappear at his light jest, but Nigel went on, “I will put a shot through anyone who tries to harm either my wife or my children.” Nigel’s hands were in his pockets as he stood there looking at Vanity’s parents. He wanted them to understand the kind of man he was.

  Nigel turned to address the parents of his bride-to-be, “I took a brief holiday to come America to spend time in her world and to understand her life so that we could figure out how to make our life together work. I also needed to sit at your table, Sir and Madam, make eye contact, and break bread with you.” David Sr. began to relax a bit. Nigel moved closer. “I would never deny you the honor of giving her away to a man you like and respect. I can only hope to earn both from you. Your daughter will be the future Duchess of Glastonbury. There is a formal ceremony that has to happen in England in April.” Elena slipped her hand into her husband’s, who stood still letting it all soak in.

  “So in April, you are going to marry her again, in your country, in front of all those Royals and high class people, and I get to give her away? Walk her down the aisle in England?”

  “Yes, Sir. And three days later will be her formal coronation as Duchess, when she will be presented to my great aunt, the Queen,” Nigel said as he looked at the shock on Vanity’s face.

  Vanity, Elena, and Khalea remained silent as they watched David Sr. walk to the cabinet to retrieve a bottle of Scotch. “Nigel, come with me, son.” Each lady exhaled, not realizing they had been holding their breath. “I bought this Scotch 30 years ago when the twins were born. I was saving it to share with her husband.” He collected two glasses, “One finger or two?” Nigel held up his index finger and watched him pour them both a drink. The two adjourned to her father’s study and she could hear her father ask, “So Nigel, do you fish?”

  Khalea embraced her aunt and looked at her cousin, “That is some mighty powerful love there cousin.”

  Elena embraced her daughter, telling her, “In order to love him back Baby, you will have to let go of a lot more. Trust in the process and trust in him.”

  Nigel had laid it all out there for her family to hear. He had let down his guard and confessed something very few people knew about him in order to earn her father’s trust. It was her turn.

  Her mother was right. Vanity Devons was going to have to let down her proverbial trademark hair and love him back.

  {9] Up, up, and awake...

  It was 9:30 and there was no sign of Nigel. Her parents and Cookie had just left for church and she had hoped to join them, but her concern now went to His Lordship. The small amount of time she had spent with him did not reveal him as a late sleeper. A minute of panic rushed through her and she headed down the hall to the guest room. Maybe he decided I wasn’t worth it and left. She tapped lightly at the door, waited for a response, and slowly turned the handle.

  “Nigel, it’s me. Are you decent?” She pushed the door and entered the room. The soft light of the lamp illuminated his face. The blinds were still drawn as he lay in bed, staring back at her, awake, sluggish, and looking a bit green.

  Slow to raise his head, his stomach rumbled. Fear gripped him as he worried whether he would either vomit or have to make a run for the loo. “I am sorry love. I seem to be a bit buggered today. You may need to ring for a physician.” Vanity said nothing as she turned on the overhead light and walked closer to the bed. After almost twenty years in the modeling industry, there weren’t many illnesses she couldn’t diagnose or treat with items from the kitchen. Her first move was to check Nigel’s legs. She pushed back the sheet and pulled a well-toned, and somewhat hairy leg from under the covers. Using her index fingers, she pressed into the flesh of his calves checking for pitting. He isn’t retaining fluids. This was good. She tucked the leg back under the cover.

  Nigel said nothing as she moved towards his torso and rolled back the covers to expose his chest. Vanity was pleased when she saw he slept in underwear. It made her even happier when she saw it was her new men’s line. Practiced hands touched his chest, checking for sweaty or clammy skin. She rolled the covers back a bit more until they rested at the top of the waistband of his boxers. Boxers are good; he preferred freedom of movement. Nigel remained still as she examined him.

  Nervous hands pulled the tank top free of his boxers to expose his belly. Using four fingers, she pressed along his abdomen for hardness to see if maybe there was bloating. Dealing with models who had a number of eating disorde
rs, she had grown accustomed to knowing what to look for with either cases of diarrhea or constipation. She smiled when she saw that he was okay digestively.

  She pulled the covers back up and told him, “I need for you to sit up.” She fluffed the pillows behind his back. Finally, she wanted to check his temperature. Vanity used the method her mother used to test for fever by pressing her lips to his forehead. He had remained quiet until this point when he said, “Well Doc, if you want a snog all you have to do is ask.” His smile was weak and she understood better than anything what he could not actually express. As his soon-to-be wife, she knew it was her duty to take care of this man, who was now her man.

  Nigel told her, “I am just a bit knackered I think, but I shall be up and about in a bit.”

  She allowed her hand to linger on his cheek, but she told him, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

  Nigel could hear her in the kitchen, putting together heavens know what and he wasn’t sure what she would come back with, but he felt good that she was concerned about him.

  Moments later, she returned with a tray that contained a glass of something that resembled anti-freeze, peanut butter toast, and applesauce. She sat the tray across his lap and pulled up a chair next to the bed. “The liquid will balance out your electrolytes, the peanut butter will pack in some quick protein, and the applesauce will balance your digestive track.” She put the glass in his hand, commanding him to drink. He didn’t argue and did as he was told and sipped the beverage.

  As their eyes met and she smiled at him, she wanted to be lighthearted, but she needed to shift his energy as well as his focus. Their life together would include a great deal of traveling, and each time he had to board a plane he could not be faced with this form of emotional crippling. Once they were married, she would teach him yoga or Tai Chi to help him find balance. Today, she was going to introduce him to something simpler.

  “Nigel, are you familiar with cognitive restructuring?” she asked as she opened the container of peach mango applesauce and spooned out a helping.

  He opened his mouth to accept the offering. “I am familiar with the practice,” he told her as he opened his mouth for another bite.

  Vanity went on to explain that she was going to teach him the very basics of the technique. “The past 72 hours have been mentally and emotionally taxing for you, but we are going to replace some of your negative thoughts about flight and travel with positive ones.” She handed him a piece of the toast covered in the peanut butter. He accepted and ate it. “You equate flying with a past negative experience, so I am going to restructure your thoughts towards something positive that you can look forward to each time you have to step aboard a plane.” She scooped out more applesauce. Like a baby bird, he opened his mouth to take another helping.

  “Travel will be a critical part of our life together, and tomorrow is the start of a new adventure,” she said softly.

  “Tomorrow we board a plane to make our lives together official. After a quick flight to Vegas, I become Mrs. Nigel Collingswood Strathmore the third.”

  He smiled, crunched on the piece of toast, and said, “Actually, I am the fourth.”

  She continued to tell him that his request, as of tomorrow night, would come true. He would go to bed, and wake up to his wife. She described in detail all of the things there were to do in Vegas and told him they would be like two kids on holiday, spending the entire day and night playing and having fun.

  “Nigel, are you aware that there is a mini replica of the Eiffel Tower in Vegas, as well as a gaudy version of the Caesar’s Palace, and the New York, New York is a replica of the streets of the Big Apple?”

  Nigel stared at the neon concoction in the glass. “Do they have little beggars running around as well?”

  Vanity found herself laughing, “Yes, complete with a Capuchin monkey wearing a red hat along with rotating thunderstorms.”

  Nigel only murmured, “That I would love to see.”

  “I do have to do some work while I am there,” Vanity continued and talked about the special event at Wynn Hotel & Casino for the hair company she co-owned. Afterwards, they would end their Vegas adventure. “We then board the plane to fly to one of the greatest cities in the world, New York.”

  She described her flat, her workspace, and the many sights of the city. “It will only be a couple of days, but right after, you have to fly home, to prepare your world to include me in it.”

  She talked about how she hoped his mother would like her, then asked, “I understand you have a sister as well?”

  “I also have a jet setting, good-for-nothing brother. Let’s not forget him,” he said as he spoke of his siblings, and finally he responded as they compared his brother and sister to her twin and cousin Khalea. Before long they were laughing and the Duke was feeling better and talking about what they would do tomorrow in Vegas. She fed him the remainder of the applesauce and got him to eat the toast and drink the remaining electrolyte solution.

  As she collected the tray, she pressed her lips to his with a brief kiss. “I am excited to be your wife. I am eager to start our life together.” His eyes were much brighter and she could tell he was feeling better about his decision, but she wanted to make sure he understood that she was ready. “I am very happy you came for me.”

  She walked to the door and looking over her shoulder said, “Join me in the kitchen when you are ready.”

  Nigel was still smiling when he called her name, “Wilhelmina?”

  The conversation was open and so was her heart. She felt playful and was getting more excited about having a day alone with him tomorrow. “Yes, Your Grace?”

  He pushed the covers to the side and slid out of the bed. His thighs were powerful and muscled, as well as his arms, and he looked tussled and sexy as hell. Nigel Strathmore was all hers and tomorrow, she would be his wife. He crossed the small space to stand in front of her. “Thank you.” He kissed her cheeks, then her lips. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  “And I will do so for the rest of our lives.” She left the room feeling confident and he headed to the water closet to shower.

  Tomorrow, Vanity Devons would be Wilhelmina Strathmore, the future Duchess of Glastonbury.

  {10] I now pronounce you...

  Sunday passed swiftly as many of the family stopped in to formally meet the Duke of Strathmore, talk about his businesses, and be nosey. He took it all in stride and seemed to enjoy the afternoon. David Sr. fired up the grills and talked shop with Nigel, and of course, fishing. As the hours waned, so did members of the family. In a quiet moment before the setting of the November sun, The Duke stood beside Elena Devonshire with a cup of tea, “Madam, you have said very little since my arrival.” He paused and waited for her to say something to him.

  Elena Devonshire was a straightforward woman who seldom pulled any punches, “I can only assume that your desire to have her as your wife is about something deeper than the physical to make you board a plane.”

  Nigel sat the tea cup on the counter top, “I sincerely believe in my heart that what we have transcends the physical. Her beauty is a plus, but her mind is what stole my heart. She is a rare woman and I am a lucky man. I will take great care of your daughter.”

  Elena placed a perfectly manicured hand upon his arm. But there was something bugging Nigel about her reaction to him and he was compelled to ask, “You seemed to be unsurprised by all of this Madam. It was almost as if you knew...”

  “Come with me,” was all she said as she led him to the family room. From a glass cabinet, she removed a black photo album and set it upon the large oak desk. It had been a while since the book was opened and Nigel could hear the leather in the spine creak as the cover was flipped open. Elena folded open several pages before she stopped at the one she was searching for, murmuring, “Ahh, here we are.”

  He could not hide his surprise when she pulled out the black and white photo and handed it to him. “I knew who you were because you look just like your father.
”

  In the photo was a young version of his father, his mother, his aunt, and a hauntingly beautiful young Elena dos Santos Gonçalves. She removed the photo from his hand and put it back in the book. “Your mother and I went to boarding school together. This is when she first met your father, a young Duke, who immediately fell in love with her and moved heaven and earth to be with her.”

  “I guess it is a small world after all,” Nigel said as he gazed at the other photos of his parents and soon-to-be mother-in-law.

  “My question to you is, how are you able to do this... I mean marry an American and not be disinherited or lose your titles?”

  He took a casual stand with his hands in his pockets as she explained to Elena, “With the birth of George of Cambridge, I am no longer in line for the throne. It helped greatly when William married a commoner which freed many of us to marry whom we wished.”

  Elena knew better. “Yes, but for your family line, how is this acceptable to your family?” It was her tactful way of asking how his family was going to treat her daughter of a mixed race.

  “From my understanding, as long as she is of noble blood, there will be no problem,” he eyed Elena with more than a mild curiosity. “I would love to one day hear your story.”

  It was the first time he had seen her smile and her eyes danced with mischief. “It is said that well-behaved women seldom make history. Open a history book. My story starts there...” She said no more as she led him back to the patio where Vanity nervously awaited his return.

  “Everything go okay in there?” Vanity asked Nigel. He only winked as her father called him over.

  David Sr. was excited to see Nigel come back to the porch. “Nigel, tell me some more about this yacht. Elena, I am going fishing off the back of his yacht in the Mediterranean!”

  Cookie stood next to Vanity, watching her Uncle and Willie’s Loverman. Vanity looked at her cousin and told her, “It seems I have been sold for a fishing trip on a yacht.”