Vanity's Pleasure

by Olivia Gaines

  “Darling, everything on the right side of the vault now belongs to you,” Nigel told her.

  Her forehead wrinkled, then her eyebrows shot up, and her ears got hot, “Say what now?”

  Nigel laughed aloud, taking his wife into his arms, “After your coronation in the Spring, you will be given your own access codes to come down, take inventory, try on, play with, or auction off a piece if you so choose,” he said. He took a small tablet from under a showing desk, “This is a list of every item in your inventory. I do caution you that the left side of the vault belongs to my mother and the back wall to my sister.

  “That is a lot of bling,” she whispered.

  He asked her, “Darling, would you like to choose a piece or two to wear this evening?”

  Vanity took the tablet from his hand and entered emeralds into the search engine. Photos showed up of every emerald piece in the vault. She wasn’t quite certain how to navigate the system, “Nigel, how do I tell which pieces are your mother’s or sisters?”

  He showed and explained to her the codes. It only took her a matter of seconds to search again and find the perfect piece of jewelry for the evening. “Great, I would like to wear these,” she told him.

  {23] Meet the family...

  “Is it true that Nigel actually flew to America to marry some tart who models undergarments?” Catherine Strathmore Howard asked her younger brother, Arthur.

  “I heard she was some actress, but I am still trying to wrap my mind around our big brother getting on a plane to fly over the pond,” Arthur said with some amusement.

  Jane Parr Strathmore, Nigel’s mother, told the siblings, “Do stop gossiping, you two. She must mean a great deal to him, otherwise he would not have even made the attempt. Besides, where are they? Dinner is about to start?”

  Nigel Strathmore the III, with a glass of scotch in his hand and a cigar in his mouth spoke from the large recliner in the corner, told his wife, “He took her to the vault to make a jewelry selection for our dinner tonight.”

  Arthur was not going to miss an opportunity to make a jab at his brother, “Lovely. She is probably going to walk in wearing half of the pearls, a tiara, and the largest diamonds she could find.”

  Everyone was very surprised when Lady Wilhelmina entered the room to be presented to her husband’s family, wearing only a pair of teardrop emerald earrings. Vanity remember her training and manners, performing a perfect curtsey in front of his parents and offering his brother and sister warm smiles.

  “I would like to introduce to you my nephew Gianni, who will be working with me during the next week,” she said to his family.

  Arthur and Catherine were almost talking over each other, pelting her with questions about her trade, “I do say, I hear you are a lingerie model turned actress?”

  “No, I am a model, who did some acting and I own a lingerie company,” she responded politely. Arthur had more questions, but his attempt to be snarky was halted by the sounds of trumpeting fanfare.

  Gianni leaned over to his aunt, “What is that?”

  Vanity shrugged her shoulders, but Catherine answered the question. “It is the herald of the arrival of the Duke of Cambridge.”

  His eyes were wide as Gianni sprang up from the couch, “I need my camera. I need my phone. Can I take pictures of him, Your Grace? Will he allow me to take pictures with him?”

  Vanity grabbed her nephew by the arm and pulled him back into the seat next to her, giving him a scolding glance.

  Nigel was pretty droll about the whole scenario, “My cousin does like to make an entrance.”

  An informal receiving line was created as the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge arrived, with the duke making a beeline for Nigel. “I heard you had gotten married and I had to come in person to say hello.”

  As he faced Vanity, she performed another perfect curtsey for him and his wife.

  “Your Highness,” she said as she dipped low to greet them both. It was a shock to the entire room when the Duchess stepped forward, “Oh Vanity, do cut it out, six months ago you were measuring my tatas, and now you want to be formal?”

  Catherine could not contain herself, “You know them?”

  “Yes, she is one of my best clients,” Vanity said.

  THE FORMAL DINNER TURNED into an informal affair as the family moved to the common room where a very large grand piano sat in the middle of the floor. Vanity’s heart leaped in her chest, “Is that a Blüthner, Style 9?”

  Nigel asked her, “Would you like to favor us with a selection this evening, Lady Wilhelmina?”

  Vanity’s eyes shot to his parents, “May I? If it is okay. I would be honored to play for you.”

  Jane watched with interest as her daughter-in-law took a seat in front of the keys. Her fingers were shaking as they made contact with the coolness of the ivories and played her first note. Vanity closed her eyes as her fingers expertly maneuvered across the piano playing a Mozart standard, then segue into a Chopin, and ending with a Bach. She played the last note and sat smiling at the keys, feeling warm on the inside.

  “Darling, will you favor us with one more of your personal favorites,” Nigel asked.

  It was an easy choice as she began to play “Cry Me a River” but it was in her heart to begin to belt out the lyrics. Vanity closed her eyes as the words filled her lungs and the touch of the keys came to life under her fingers. The notes came from deep within the recesses of her soul. All the men who had tried to win her heart. All the lying men who had given empty promises to love and respect her, but to find out that she would not sleep with them. Bastards! She hit the keys hard. She threw her head back and bellowed out the notes. Her soprano filling the cavernous hall. The staff came from the kitchen to listen in the hallway.

  Giles stood close by watching Nigel’s face fill with pride as he watched his wife entertain his family. In truth, Giles, who stood listening, felt a connection to his Lordship’s wife. Connall stood in the corner watching, feeling pride that she would produce the next heir to the Strathmore line. Jane, came to tears as she received a flashback of a young woman, who used to be her friend who loved to play as much as her daughter did as well. Wilhelmina Devonshire Strathmore was their Duchess. Each felt a sense of ownership and protectiveness of her. Nigel III, extinguished his cigar and watched with interest his son’s choice of a wife and the producer of the next heir to his family line. He approved. His eldest, Nigel had made an excellent choice for a wife and mate.

  The last key was struck. The air was crisp as the last notes came from her mouth a Capella closing out her mock recital. She finished and rose from the piano, so overwhelmed with emotion that she barely heard the applause. The Blüthner was at least 300 years old and perfectly tuned. Never had she imagined being able to play on anything so grand. Her body was humming as she felt something unlock within her midway through the song.

  Vanity Devons could not appreciate the adoration that was being bestowed upon her. She was too busy being filled with sensations she had locked away for years.

  IN THE QUIETNESS OF their bedroom, her body vibrated like a wayward guitar craving to be plucked. Each nerve in her was alive, awake, and energy was coursing through her.

  “Nigel,” she whispered into the darkened bedroom chamber.

  There was no response as she moved closer to him.

  “Stay on your side of the bed, Wilhelmina,” came a voice from the other side of the massive bed. She ignored it and inched closer.

  “Nigel,” she said again as she reached out to feel the coolness of the sheets in the space between them, trying to locate the warmth of his body.

  “Wilhelmina, stay on your side of the bed, please,” he said again, this time sounding less convincing. It had been difficult when he saw her to not rip off the designer clothing and have his way with her, but a promise was a promise. If she moved any closer, he may not be able to keep his word.

  She ignored his words when her fingers made contact with his arm, “That piano is marvelous. It was s
itting there; just waiting for me to awaken it. Those keys came alive in my hands. It felt like energy bolts shot through my fingers.” She told him as her fingers stroked his arm. “My whole body is infused with this humming, a strumming, a cry for more,” her breathing was heavy.

  Nigel tried to move away. If she comes any closer, I may not be able to control myself. Her piano playing and singing had turned him on to the point he had to leave the room after she played so he would not turn and inadvertently poke someone in the eye with his twig. “Darling, what are you doing?”

  The covers were thrown to the side as she maneuvered her way through the bed and found his body. “I am just so warm all over, and the humming inside of me is like music, a Spanish guitar almost.”

  Nigel wondered if she was asleep. “Wilhelmina, wake up please.”

  “I’m very awake Nigel. My body is awake and I just need calm the frenzy,” she told him as her hand reached into his sleep pants. She remembered what had worked for him in New York, and with a few quick flicks of her wrist, he was ready to aid her in calming the wayward notes that were soaring through her like free radicals. “I need to organize the notes, stop the humming, and make it all make sense.”

  “I don’t understand, Darling. Tell me what you need,” he asked as she climbed over him, straddling him.

  She perfectly positioned him and began to gently rub her body against his. “I’m sorry, but I need the humming to stop,” her mouth found his as she thrust her tongue in between his lips, still gently moving. “Help me Nigel. Help me compose this tune,” she told him.

  His hands went to her pajama top and released the snaps, freeing her breasts. He half rose and pulled one of the hardened buds into his mouth, which sent his wife in a tail spin. Vanity increased her pace as she grabbed a handful of his hair, increasing the rocking of her hips against him, “I can see the notes I can feel the music, I can hear it Nigel.” She leaned forward, rocking faster, harder, quicker, kissing him once more and then collapsed in his arms.

  “Wilhelmina, are you awake?” Nigel asked worried that me may have married a nutter.

  Soft fingers touched his face, “I am.”

  “That was quite lovely, but what in the bloody hell was that about?”

  Her breathing was ragged as she tried to find the words to explain her wanton actions, “I could hear the music and it felt like it was trapped inside me, I had to set it free.”

  “Is the music free now?”

  “Yes, you helped me get the music out.”

  Nigel was quiet for a second, “What about me? I can feel a song trapped inside my trousers.”

  Vanity placed her hands under the covers and reached for him, but he stopped her with his words, “No, not this time. You got a chance to rub one out, I deserve the same.” Even in the dark, she could feel the intensity of his stare.

  “Nigel, really, are we going to go tit for tat?”

  “Yes, we are, Darling,” he told her as he reached for her in the darkness, pressing his body close and covering her mouth with his own as he gently rubbed himself against her, trying desperately to be calm, when in his heart he wanted to remove all of their clothing and actually make love to his wife. A step at a time, Nigel.

  “Wrap your legs around me, Wilhelmina, help me make the music of love,” he said as in the dark, they moved together, composing a tune that only they could hear.

  NIGEL STOOD AT THE back door with Conall discussing the upcoming week at his country estate. He would return to his quarters shortly to check on his wife, but he had asked the young man to come along as a companion to Gianni since the two had managed to form an instant connection. He had been very impressed with Gianni’s ideas and looked forward to the next few days of talking with him.

  “There you are, my dear,” his mother Jane said. “I was hoping to have a moment alone with you before you left for the country.”

  Startled that she had managed to walk up on him without him hearing her, Nigel greeted his mother warmly with an embrace followed by a kiss on her temple. “Good morning Mum.”

  “Will you join me straight away in my office?” Nigel followed along behind his mother, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit bowl on the kitchen counter and popping them in his mouth.

  His mother’s office was in the rear of the Keep. It was a moderately sized space with lots of windows that brought in as much natural light one could expect from a late fall season in England. The office was organized with materials from social functions, the charities she supported, and the running Strathmore Keep. The country house in Gloucester was going to be the responsibility of his wife as well as the London Townhome. He made a mental note to have a discussion with his wife of where and how they wished to reside. The one thing was clear, he did not want to live in Strathmore Keep. He hated the castle.

  Jane patted the overstuffed chair that sat next to her desk, encouraging her son to take a seat. He recognized the Stamford wing chair that she had reupholstered after finding it in the root cellar behind some vintage wines. It was his favorite chair in the whole castle. “I have never had to worry about you Nigel,” she said to him as her eyes began to tear.

  “You have always been an ideal child. Never a problem, always doing what was expected of you, your title, and the Strathmore name.”

  The sound of the start of the conversation bristled Nigel a bit, and he only asked, “But...”

  Jane dabbed at her eyes with an embroidered silk handkerchief, “I have always been worried that you would marry someone who was appropriate and fitting your station, but you would not marry for love.” She leaned forward and grabbed his hands, “I am so proud of you Nigel. You managed as always to get it just right.”

  She rose and pulled him into her arms, squeezing him tightly. “Your wife is absolutely lovely. I cannot wait to get to know her better.”

  Always the good son, he squeezed her back. “I am glad you feel that way, Mum. I have a major favor to ask of you.” He gave her a full-on smile that a son gives to his mother when he wants to borrow the car or a wad of cash.

  She knew the look as her blue eyes gazed back at him, “What can I help you with son?”

  “I would like the wedding and coronation to be here at Strathmore Keep in April,” he waited for her reaction.

  His mother clutched her bosom. Her eyes were wide in disbelief, “That is only six months away! Six months, Nigel? For a wedding and a coronation?”

  It was the perfect opportunity to poke fun at her, “Of course, if it is too much trouble Mum, I can hire someone to handle the particulars.”

  “You will do no such thing,” she said as she began to thumb through her desk looking for her planner. “Off with you now, I have so much to do. I will be out to the manor in a day or so. Please tell your wife to expect me.”

  Nigel held his mother in his arms, kissing her on the forehead, “Thank you Mum. I love you.”

  Jane heard nothing he said as her mind began filling with details to make this the best wedding of the social season.

  {24] Are those Arabians...?

  The morning was quiet. Vanity sat in the middle of the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees feeling foolish. Uncertain of how she was going to face her husband this morning after her behavior last night, she tried deep breathing, but the dread was hovering around her like guilt about eating a whole box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Couple that feeling with being insanely hungry, alongside a lightheadedness which was throwing her off-kilter. The bell chimed and she knew Giles had brought up some food. As much as she wanted to eat what had been placed before her last night, she could not consume the heavy sauteed foods and meats floating in onions and dark liquors. It was also a 21-course meal. Who still does that? It was a conscious decision not to draw attention to her different eating needs. She opted instead to just push the food around her plate, nibbling at the shellfish course, bypassing the consommé’s and thick soup course.

  Nigel entered the room carrying a towel and giving her a bird's-eye
view of his naked bum as he adjusted the flame on the gas fireplace in the bedroom.

  “Good Morning, Darling. I hope you slept well. I am absolutely famished.”

  It was good to see him in great spirits, but Vanity was still feeling stupid. He slipped on a pair of loungers and a tee and she could hear him pouring himself a cup of tea. She had not moved from the bed. “Wilhelmina, I know you are starving, you barely ate anything last night.”

  Slowly, she climbed down from the giant bed and made her way to the small table to join him for breakfast. “What’s wrong, Darling? You seem out of sorts. Do I need to ring for a physician?”

  “Nigel, it’s about last night...”

  He said nothing as he watched the emotions flicker through her eyes and when she looked up at him, he immediately recognized she felt shame for last night.

  “Why are you upset this morning my love?”

  “I behaved badly last night and I am sorry. I did not comport myself as I should have,” she said with her head lowered.

  In his head, there were so many ways to tackle this, but he took the issue head on, “Yes, you are right. If you had done it the right way, we both would have been naked and it would have lasted a lot longer.”

  Vanity’s head popped up and her jaw hung open in shock. Nigel was chuckling over his teacup. She asked, “You aren’t ashamed of me?”

  “I am ashamed that I didn’t do a better job getting you out of those clothes, but I promised you I would give you time, and I am,” he said as he wiggled his brows and bit into a scone.

  “Nigel, be serious! I came at you like a strumpet in heat and dry humped you all the way to Happy Town!”

  “Yes, and the town needs a new Constable because I want to file a complaint,” he said to her while still chuckling. Vanity threw a scone at him.

  She wanted to know, “What do you have to complain about?”