SNAKE

by Leal, Samantha

  Perching themselves on the edge of a settee of lavender velvet, they took a moment to inspect and admire this stylish salon; a grand parlor distinguished by the presence of stained glass windows and lamps, lavender cushioned cherry wood furniture with matching plush carpeting, and an expansive ceiling mural that depicted angels in flight across the vast expanse of a gem blue sky.

  Their joined gazes paused to admire the cornice bound lines of this illustrious mural, finally careening down the side of a shiny silver brocade wall to regard yet another work of art; one that portrayed another decidedly angelic subject.

  This large, brass framed oil painting portrayed the ebullient image of a veritable golden goddess; a tall, slender woman with flowing golden hair, wide dark eyes and a chiseled flawless face.

  The model came dressed in a striking ivory ensemble that seemed to fit her celestial image. This fine example of Victorian fashion boasted a contoured jacket of satin and lace, as well as a bustled cream hued, lace lined overskirt with a crisp cotton ruffled underskirt attached.

  “Is that Eugenia, Nathaniel’s first wife?” Callista asked, adding through gritted teeth, “The woman whose gown I cruelly bogarted for my own use this particular eve?”

  Alex nodded.

  “That is indeed our dear Eugenia,” he allowed, adding in a wistful tone as he cast a loving look in the direction of the painting, “And please do not concern yourself about the dress. Aside from being a raving beauty, Eugenia was the sort of kind soul who literally would grant a stranger the dress off her back if she so needed it. I still cannot believe that she has been gone for nearly three years now.” He paused here, his voice soft and reflective as he continued, “His dear wife Eugenia was claimed by the fever; ripped from Nathaniel’s arms so early in their marriage. In the wake of her death, he closed himself off in the lonesome confines of this house—the virtual mausoleum he’d once called a home. I swear to you, Callista, if it hadn’t been for Jasmin’s quite unexpected arrival, I do believe that my dear brother would have followed in his wife’s footsteps—dying an early and miserable death, this one because of heartbreak.”

  Callista nodded.

  “Well, believe me when I say that Nathaniel has returned the favor,” she assured Alex, adding with a bright smile, “I have never seen Jasmin happier. After trying everything in our time from Library Speed Dating to a lifetime membership in eHarmony.com, my friend had just about given up on finding love.” She paused, continuing with a casual shrug, “It turns out that all she had to do was take a quick road trip through the corridors of time to locate and pin down her cuddle bunny. Who knew?”

  Alex guffawed outright.

  “I do love your way with words, Miss,” he praised her with a wink, adding more seriously, “And as thoroughly insane as I originally believed my brother to be, claiming that his new lover had journeyed through time to come to him, the moment that I met Jasmin, I knew immediately that she was indeed the product of another century. I loved her humor, her strength, her independence—this was the kind of woman that I had been seeking for years, the kind that is so rare to find in our day and age. Through my years away at service, I searched foreign shores for this illusive woman—only to remain alone at the end of my search, not to mention very lonesome. I often inquired, jokingly of course, if Jasmin had a friend,” he chuckled, adding as he stared deep into the eyes of his companion, “I am so very glad that the answer was yes, Callista.”

  Callista said nothing for a moment, just trembled outright as Alex said her name like the sweetest poetry; also not resisting as he brought her hand to his soft, moist lips for a warm, gentlemanly kiss.

  Finally. she released on a whisper, “Jasmin and I both knew that I was intended to be here, in this place and time. And now, Alex, I think I know why.” She paused here, arching her eyebrows in a show of obvious interest. “The men of my time often don’t know the meaning of chivalry and romance. They pay no attention to their dress or deportment, and you know that they would never raise a fist—let alone a sword—in defense of a woman. You seem so different. And ya know what? I quite like different.”

  She took in her breath as Alexander seared her with a dazzling white toothed smile; erasing all distance between them on the settee as he assured her on a hot whisper, “I like different too, milady. Let me show you just how much.”

  Alex surged across the settee to seize her lips in a hot, passionate kiss; his warm, moist lips stroking and massaging hers in long, loving strokes.

  Angling his golden head over hers to intensify their kiss, he plied her lips with greatest affection as their tongues entangled between them.

  Leaning full and hard into his kiss, Callista wrapped her arms tightly around his muscled shoulders as he placed his own sturdy hands around her slender waist.

  For a few blissful moments, the couple kissed and cuddled; their hearts pounding in one accord as the smacking of their lips resounded long and strong in the atmosphere around them.

  Finally, another, most unwelcome sound served to disrupt the tenor of their romantic rhapsody; the chiming of a nearby mahogany polished grandfather clock that tolled the arrival of the midnight hour.

  Breaking their kiss, Alex graced his new lover with a dreamy smile as he raised his hand to stroke the silky strands of her long red hair.

  “You’re so different, so beautiful, in every way,” he praised her, adding as he graced her beaming lips with another impassioned kiss, “I so hate to leave you now, but the hour is late.”

  Callista shrugged.

  “Well, why break up the party now, when we’re hitting it off so well?” she asked him, arching her eyebrows to teasing effect. “Perhaps I could see you up to your chamber, Alex? Or you could see me up to mine?”

  She frowned, confused moments later, as Alex dropped her hand and rose from the settee; turning sharp and swift away from her as he said over his shoulder, “I am a gentleman, Miss Callista, and shall not take advantage of a proper young lady.”

  Callista snorted.

  “What if it turns out that the proper young lady in question really has a hankering to—I don’t know—get lucky?” she queried with a teasing grin.

  This grin dissolved moments later, as Alexander raised a firm hand between them and headed with seemingly expedient haste in the direction of the staircase.

  “What I am currently seeking, Miss, is the woman of my heart,” he assured her, “Not simply a woman with whom I can—ahem—get lucky. Good evening, Miss Callista.”

  Chapter six

  “Are you quite all right, my darling?”

  Ensconced together in the deluxe master suite, originally designated as Jasmin’s guestroom, she and Nathaniel huddled together in an ebullient sleeping place distinguished by a lace canopied bed doused in ivory silk comforters, polished brass-trimmed cherry wood bureaus, plush white carpeting, and a candle-lined brass chandelier that hung low from an ivory corniced ceiling.

  Although laying astride her handsome lover in the luxury of their private trysting place, Jasmin made no move to open herself to Nathaniel’s heated advances; instead staring out the crystalline panes of a nearby lace swathed window, her generally smiling features now beset with a deep, pronounced frown.

  “I cannot bear to see you this way,” Nathaniel told her, wrapping his arms tight around her shoulders as he implored, “I thought that you’d be so pleased to see your friend. Please tell me what ails you.”

  Jasmin sighed.

  “Of course I am absolutely over the moon to see Calli,” she admitted, adding as she looked him straight in the eyes, “Only I couldn’t help but notice that you offered her the full and free use of your wife’s wardrobe—an offer that you did not make me when I first arrived here. Now I must say that, back in our own time, I never felt jealous of or threatened by Callista. Don’t get me wrong, I think she’s absolutely beautiful, inside and out—but with her fair skin and her notable lack of—well—substantial cleavage, she wasn’t exactly coveted by our male friends a
nd co-workers, any more than I was. In this time, though, that slender frame and fiery hair just renders her perfect.”

  Suddenly, Jasmin was silenced by a kiss; a passionate advance that sealed her lover’s lips to hers as he plied her with the most tender of affections.

  “In my eyes, dear Jasmin, you are perfect,” he assured her, adding with a wicked grin, “And I do believe I know just how to prove it to you.”

  Jasmin shook her head.

  “Don’t even think about it tonight, Beb,” she told him, holding up a restraining hand between them. “Between my best friend careening here across the bounds of time to my own personal crisis of confidence, I am simply not in the mood tonight.”

  Chuckling in response to her somber words, Nathaniel reached behind him to open the drawer of his ivory corniced bedside table.

  “Well, for once Darling, I wasn’t talking about sex,” he assured her. “I was, in fact, thinking more in terms of a marriage proposal.”

  Jasmin gasped outright as her lover presented her with a dazzling diamond ring; a glimmering, sizable gem that caught the light of the candle glowing bright at their bedside.

  “Jasmin Lawrence,” Nathaniel spoke again, taking her hand in his. “Will you be my wife?”

  Tears flooded Jasmin’s eyes as she considered this tender query. Then she figured that she’d better hurry up and answer it, before the dude changed his mind and escaped her steely clutches.

  “Yes,” she told him, voice barely above a whisper as he slipped the glowing ring clear across her finger. “Yes I will, Nathaniel.”

  Chapter seven

  The next morning, Alexander awoke from a light, restless sleep to rise still tired from his guest bed at the Barrett estate; slipping on a crisp high-collared white cotton shirt and tight taupe riding breeches before heading downstairs.

  Although he tried to paste on a casual smile as he descended the winding brass-railed staircase that led to the grand dining room, his psyche brimmed with conflicting emotions regarding the events of the previous night.

  As much as his heart soared with joy at meeting such a remarkable woman, one who seemed to be a perfect match in every way, Alex’s mind was plagued with the knowledge that he had offended his new lady friend—or, worse yet, that he had rejected her.

  Of course I wanted to make love to Callista, he thought, adding with a grimace, Yet I did not want her to think me less than gentlemanly—nor did I wish to move things along too quickly.

  Then he saw her standing at the foot of the stairs, and all thoughts scattered.

  She was dressed this day in a resplendent day dress of satin and lace, a lovely peach colored effort comprised of a finely tailored lace-lined jacket with a stand up collar as well as a double layered bustled skirt that came complete with a ruffled underskirt and a rich waterfall bustle.

  “Madame, I must say it,” he breathed. “You are a marvel.”

  Callista smiled, but only briefly.

  “Thanks,” she allowed, tone stiff and noncommittal, adding as her gaze took a casual walk down the length of his tall muscled frame, “And you, as usual, are sufficiently hunky and appropriately hawt.”

  Alex nodded.

  “Um, many thanks, Miss,” he mumbled, not at all sure just how to respond to this most peculiarly worded compliment. “What do you say we go for a ride this morn? Just the two of us?” he paused here, searing her with an intimate smile and passion-narrowed eyes. “I’d love to take you on a private tour of the estate—just you and me, Love. We just might be away all day.”

  Callista looked at him for a long moment, then shook her head.

  “Sorry, but I fear I’ll have to decline,” she told him as she turned away. “We have a game of croquet scheduled this morning—after, of course, we have a proper English breakfast.” She paused here, adding with a defined smirk, “And do allow me to assure you once again that it will be a proper English breakfast; otherwise, you probably wouldn’t be bothered to eat it.”

  Wincing at these words, Alexander fell silent as he completed his descent down the brass-railed staircase; following Callista into the main dining room as he folded his hands before him.

  So she’d far prefer a game of croquet to a promised passionate interlude with me, he mused in silence. As the people in her time might say, Ouch!

  Yet he smiled moments later as he saw his brother and their hostess kissing and cuddling at the table.

  “Good morn to you, my brother,” Nathaniel nodded, though he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the glowing woman whose hand he held across the table.

  A hand, Alexander couldn’t help but notice, that now came adorned with a shiny diamond ring.

  “Blimey!” he exclaimed. “So tell me, dear brother. Did you finally come to your senses and ask this wondrous woman to marry you?”

  “Did you finally put a ring on it?” Callista translated, rushing forward to engage her longtime friend in a warm, affirming hug.

  “Yes,” Jasmin affirmed, choking back tears as she held her hand up to the light; putting her gleaming diamond on full display for all to admire. “Nathaniel and I are getting hitched!”

  In the wake of a celebratory breakfast that featured eggs, pastries, cinnamon tea, as well as biscuits topped with fresh churned butter and strawberry jam, the happy foursome ventured out onto the sprawling front lawn of their host’s emerald grassed estate; starting the day off by engaging in a spirited match of the time-honored game of croquet.

  Alexander watched in obvious admiration as Callista took her croquet mallet firmly in hand and knocked a round ruby red ball through the center of the shiny semicircular hoops that stood upright from the ground.

  “Have you played croquet before?” he asked her, feathered eyebrows arched in a show of keen curiosity.

  Callista shook her head.

  “Never,” she admitted. “I just seem to take to any and all kinds of sports,” she paused here, arching her shoulders to proud effect. “In high school, in fact, I was the only girl who played on the Townley High Baseball Team. Softball and tee ball, I figured, were strictly for wussies! I wanted to play with the big boys—and in doing so, I helped us win three county baseball tournaments. They even named me MVP my senior year.”

  “MVP?” Alex repeated, blue eyes flying wide as he considered these words. “Most Valuable Princess?”

  Callista guffawed outright.

  “Player,” she corrected him, planting her hands on two strong hips as she clarified, “I was never anybody’s princess.”

  Alexander grinned.

  “Ah Callista, you’re such a breath of fresh air,” he praised her. “Many ladies of my time would faint at the sight of a sports field, let alone at the idea of actually exerting themselves through the playing of a game.”

  Callista arched her eyebrows.

  “So I take it that their idea of a triathlon would consist of a chess muscle challenge, supercharged swooning and coquettish croquet?” she clarified.

  Alex guffawed outright.

  “My lady, you are a delight!” he praised her, adding through the pursing of his full soft lips, “And just so you know, Nathaniel and I are sportsmen as well. We excelled at equestrian sports in finishing school, and at university.” He paused here, softening his voice and narrowing his eyes seductive in her direction, “If you would care to see a demonstration of my particular physical skills, then I’d love to take you for a ride this noon on the grounds of the estate.”

  Callista looked at him for a long moment, then nodded.

  “Okay, so only a dude as hot and British as you could get away with such a cheesy line,” she asserted. “But coming out of your mouth, well, somehow it works. Yes, I will go for a ride with you.”

  Later that afternoon, Callista found herself riding high astride a sleek coated ivory charger through the vast expanse of an emerald leaved meadow; in a seeming race with the azure skyline as the horse trotted hard and free through the daisy lined grasses beneath her.

  R
iding by her side was a gorgeous companion who rode tall and proud in the polished English saddle of his signature black stallion; his lustrous mane of golden hair flying like a flag behind him as he rode as one with his glorious mount.

  Callista loved the way that his muscles bulged and rippled beneath the fabric of his high necked shirt; also admiring the poised position of his planed back and sculpted derriere in the seat of his elegant saddle.

  “I haven’t been riding in forever,” she struggled to maintain a steady tone as a raw, highly sensual sense of intrigue threatened to overcome her (Translation: She wanted this dude. And bad).

  Alexander nodded.

  “Have you been racing in forever?” he asked her, raising his strong arm to ceremonious effect as he declared in a bellowing, stately tone, “Miss Callista Vale, I hereby challenge you to a race this day!”

  Callista shrugged.

  “It’s Ms.,” she corrected him, digging her heels gently but purposefully into the sides of her regal mount, “And providing that you allow me to win, of course, I will indeed accept your challenge.”

  Alex thought a moment, then nodded.

  “Sounds fair enough,” he agreed.

  Letting loose with a joyful whoop that delighted her tour guide, Callista launched her mount into a frenetic trot as they charged far ahead of their lagging competitors; and, Callista couldn’t help but notice an abiding Alex was reining in his mount in a deliberate effort to remain far behind her.

  Good move, she thought, enjoying the speed and pounding rhythm of the ride as she and her majestic mount careened in the direction of an invisible finish line.

  Finally, both skidded to a smooth stop at the side of a sparkling pond that sported the presence of pure ivory swans flowing free across its crystalline surface; one that formed the glittery centerpiece of this 100-acre estate.

  Arriving beside her—eventually—was her defeated companion; one who slid in a smooth flourish from the back of his horse and came to stand tall and proud before her.