Hat Trick

by Morris Fenris

  Adelaide threw back to coverlet and drew on her robe. She sat at her dressing table and began to brush out the long lengths of her blonde hair. The silk ribbon at her throat had loosed itself from its bow and the lace bodice of her nightgown lay wide open and revealed the ample swell of her bosom. She fingered the delicate lace. This was Robert’s favorite. She had worn it for him last night, in hopes that he might visit her bed chamber. It was going on a full week since he had invited her to his rooms or entered her own. It confused and upset her. Was this to be their marriage now? When they had wed three years ago it was rare that a single night would go by that they did not find themselves together in the same room and now…

  There was a soft knock on her door and she tied her bodice shut. “Enter Nettie.”

  The young girl set down a silver tray upon a small table beside the open window. She poured steaming water from the matching silver tea pot into a dainty porcelain cup, adding the tea so that it might steep to the Countess’ desired strength. “Cook added a small bit of fresh peach preserve, Ma’am. It’s quite delightful. The Earl had two servings.” She started back towards the door and Adelaide moved from her vanity to the spares meal.

  “Is he still in his study?”

  “No Ma’am, he mentioned fancying a morning ride and has set out for the stables.” She bowed her head out of respect as she closed the doors leaving Adelaide to her own devices.

  Adelaide pulled back the sheers as she sipped her tea. She caught a glimpse of Robert as he made his way across the property. He always appeared poised and powerful when he rode his stallion. His long muscular legs gripping the girth of the animal, keeping his balance, his spine straight as an arrow and his chin high, he rode as an Earl should, noble and sure. Adelaide could not believe that she felt jealous of the horse. Robert was choosing the animal’s company over that of her own. Again she wondered if this was what her marriage had come to. Maybe Robert had become bored of her, but when?

  Adelaide let her mind drift as she looked out over the sloping hills and winding rock walls. She hadn’t seen Robert on a horse the night they had met, but he had that same noble, confident air about him when he entered the grand ball room. She had been standing off to the side, admiring the other women’s gowns when he walked in, handing his top coat and hat off to be properly stowed away. His ascot had brought out the intense blue of his eyes, the only flair of color in his whole formal attire, sapphire set in a sea of black. Adelaide let her eyes follow him as he entered to curtsies, handshakes and salutations from those ladies and gentleman that were in his circle. He smiled at the adoration of those acquaintances he knew vaguely and those that wished to make his acquaintance. Adelaide kept her distance, whispering amongst her girlfriends. They were each unfamiliar with the true scenes of the grand ball, having never been, only heard tale of until now, their first formal introductions to adult society.

  Adelaide’s mother came over and shooed their intimate gathering from the corner of the room, admonishing them for not politely socializing with the guest that were clearly here to meet them. She took hold of her daughter’s gloved arm and pulled her aside. “Dear, you cannot hide behind the skirts of your school friends. Your father and I did not pay for a gown and all these festivities for you to be shoved into a corner, giggling like a child.”

  “No mother, I know.” She pulled her arm from her mother’s grasp; “If I am not a child, then kindly stop treating me as one.” With that she marched straight out of the ball room and out into the foyer to calm herself and avoid the daggers her mother eyes were certain to give her.

  She failed to look where she was stalking off too, until her path led her straight into a massive wall of muscle. She would have fallen back on her pink clad bottom if it weren’t for the strong hold the man in the sapphire ascot had on her upper arms.

  “Oh,” Adelaide’s eyes went wide and she fumbled over her words. “Pardon me… I mean please excuse… I apologize.”

  “Which is it?” His voice was deep and soothing, and Adelaide though she would promptly melt right there in his hands, a puddle of pink melted silk with her mother’s pearls floating on top, at his feet. He held her gaze, “Well, do you speak, little Miss?”

  A surge of defensiveness went through every fiber of her body and caused her spine to stiffen. Did he think her some child, inept of holding a civil conversation? She pulled herself free of his supporting hands and set her jaw. “Of course I can speak, Sir. I am not a mute child.”

  He smirked. “No not mute at all, the other to be determined.”

  Adelaide’s jaw dropped and she turned in a flourish of soft silk and made her way back into the ball room. She could hear the light laughter echo out behind her. Who did he think he was, accusing her of being a child? She would show him.

  Music filled the grand hall and bodies began to circle about the open space, creating intricate patterns in black, white and pastels. Women held their forms as gentlemen led them in the prescribed dances. Adelaide danced with several gentlemen, holding their attention with light conversation. She maintained an air of polite, demure civility, and each bowed with respect as she parted their attentions. Her eyes would move about the spacious room as she danced searching for the snap of sapphire. He would be in talks with a Duke, or collecting the giggles of some girl younger then herself and once she found him watching her from over the rim of a glass of punch. This is when she made her features become soft and sensual to the gentleman whose attention she had taken and was now guiding her over the floor boards. When she dared to look up again, the dark man with blue eyes dared to lift his glass to her and his smile made her blood boil, but not in anger, she was frustrated that he had not yet asked her to the dance floor.

  The lady fingers were delightful and Adelaide tried not to drop crumbs onto the intricate bodice of her gown. Her feet were beginning to ache and she had decided that she would sit for a spell and rest before accepting any more dance requests.

  “You look lovely.”

  Adelaide nearly dropped the pastry down the front of her cleavage and then she heard the familiar depth of light laughter. It was the sapphire ascot gentleman standing directly behind her. She wanted to lash out at him, but he had complimented her and was now assisting her with his handkerchief, freely aiding in the removal of the sweet treat from her bosom. Adelaide blushed so deeply she could feel the heat travel from her cheeks down her throat to the very spot on her chest that his handkerchief was now touching. She stepped away in fear that his fingers would feel the burn of embarrassment, heat through the fine cotton of the cloth.

  “Thank you, Sir.” she whispered.

  “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss?”

  Adelaide made note of the fact that he had dropped the “little” this time. Her stubborn streak wanted to say no, but her heart was pounding so fierce she knew she would say yes.

  Moving about the floor, Adelaide was lost in the sound of his voice and the feel of his hand in hers and his arm about her. He introduced himself as Robert and did not attach his title. Later she would learn his reasoning; he wanted her to like him for him not for his wealth.

  “The dress suits you Adelaide.”

  She wasn’t sure if it was the compliment that made her blush or the sound of her name coming from his lips. “Thank you, Robert. Mother had it designed and completed here from a new shop on Bond Street. They were quite accommodating.”

  “I do not think it too difficult to add to your existing beauty.”

  Adelaide dropped her head to hide her smile.

  Robert let go of her hand long enough to lift her chin. “Please do not hide from me. I want to know you.”

  His eyes sparkled like gems as he starred at her face. She was sure at any moment she may swoon and faint under his gaze. She missed a step and faltered in his arms, but he held her close, pressing his chest close to her form to correct the step and save her from disgrace before the others.

  “Are you alright?”

 
“Yes,” she nodded. “Perhaps a bit overheated.”

  “Shall we step off to the veranda or the gardens for a moment?”

  Again she nodded. His hand never left hers as he led her through the French doors and out into the evening air. They walked quietly, hand in hand away from the soirée, far enough to be out of view and ears of the other guests. Robert escorted her to a stone bench that sat hidden in the rose garden. She had the feeling that they had not simply stumbled upon it, but that Robert had known of its placement all along.

  “Do you often bring ladies to this bench?”

  “I have, but none have come close to the beauty that surrounds it until now.”

  Adelaide blushed again. How she wished she had better control of her emotions.

  Robert sat beside her and stroked her cheek. “Your skin reflects their perfect hue when you blush.”

  Adelaide smiled and let herself fall into the spell that was being placed upon her. She was being introduced as an adult to society, why should she feel like a child any longer? She set it in her mind at that moment in time that she was indeed an adult, and when Robert leaned in to brush his lips to hers, she allowed it without hesitation.

  A rush of warmth, greater than the blush stained upon her skin, filled the center of her being and traversed from his lips down through her breasts into the hollow of her stomach and warmed her insides. A rush she had never felt before stole her breath as he continued to take control of her mouth with the taste of his own. It was a bliss she had never felt before and she knew without a doubt she did not want it to leave.

  Robert’s hands cupped her warm cheeks and brushed over the bare skin at her shoulders and finally traveled down her back to her waist where he held her securely, pulling her close to his body. She shivered in his embrace. Her friends would be jealous of her.

  “Adelaide,” he whispered breaking the kiss and leaving her hungry for his lips. “I would like to see more of you. I will ask your father’s permission this very evening and our courtship can begin as soon as we have his blessing.”

  She was stunned. He hadn’t asked her, he had assumed she would agree. She did agree and she leaned in and mimicked his actions, holding his cheeks in her hands and pursing her lips, allowing them to dance over his mouth in their agreement. This was not what she had planned for, but it felt wonderful, like a dream and her body felt alive and tingled all over. She wanted more. She wondered what it would be like to kiss other parts of his body.

  Her mouth dared to travel from his lips to the side of his throat. She inhaled the scent of his skin and could not help but moan at the sensations she was feeling. She was certain there was no “little” Miss left in her.

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  The morning sun had burned off the majority of the dew and it now warmed Robert’s body as he rode out across the country side absorbed in his thoughts. His form was tense. The fibers of his muscles were wrapped in tight cords that were knotted in his neck and shoulders. His mind had been working in round about patterns for the majority of the night and well into the morning hours. Its focus had been Adelaide.

  He had started to make his way to her room last evening and as he stood outside her door he had a moment of misgiving. Behind those ornate double doors Adelaide was certain to be waiting for him, as she had many nights since their wedding. He adored her ambition and the feel of her body beneath him and he was convinced that she was as enamored with his abilities as well, but was that enough? His fingers rested on the golden handle of her door. She would be there waiting and willing. He let his hand drop to his side.

  Adelaide was perfect, she was beautiful, she was poised and she was a wonderful hostess, a superb conversationalist and supported his decisions. What he wondered was that she might be going through the motions of a societal wife, a proper elite, the Countess everyone expected. Their physical attraction was obvious to them, but if it were taken out of the equation would Adelaide feel the same towards him? Perhaps their first meeting should have been more based on mutual life lessons and commonalities, not on the intense attraction they had with one another.

  Robert dismounted and tied off his horse. He sat beneath a tree and let his mind backtrack to the first time he had seen Adelaide years ago. It had been a ball, an introduction to society for the girls that were deemed ready. He had found through the various balls he was invited to and attended that it was rare that the girls were ready. Most appeared far too shy or giddy and often came on overtly strong or stayed hidden behind the crowd on the outskirts of the hall. He used these opportunities to scout for a lady to fulfill his father’s request. In order for him to inherit his land and wealth Robert was to be wed before his twenty first year. If he failed, all would be lost and he would live on a thin stipend and be forced to build his own wealth without his father’s name. Robert was not opposed to working hard, but he knew the taste of the life he was accustom to and wanted to stay in that station of life.

  Before he had discarded his coat and gloves his eyes were already scanning the hall. Six months that was the amount of time he had remaining. Off to his left stood several familiar faces, he nodded in greeting to them, but swiftly dismissed any interaction, knowing he had already struck their names from his internal list. His attention went to the new faces. Two younger girls sat behind a veil of conversing mothers, obviously not ready to venture out on their own. Another was boisterous and over dramatized, flirting with one available male after another. Robert felt defeated and left for a breath of fresh air.

  “Humph.” Hi breath caught his throat and he reached out to steady the girl before him. She had hit him hard, in the chest, for a female of her size, petite and dainty, nearly doll size in his opinion, but stunning. Her gown fit her like she had been sewn into it, flaring at her small hip and cinching in an already tiny waist. She made his mouth water.

  “Please, forgive, pardon…ohhh.” She was flustered.

  “Are you alright?”

  The girl set her jaw and her defiance was almost as delicious as her form. She pulled from him and stalked off. Robert laughed with the knowledge that she was the one, she would be his goal. It felt like perfection.

  He watched her throughout the rest of the evening, checking his watch several times. He lingered close by as she danced and conversed with an air of assured confidence and delight, flirting some, but only enough to leave each male admirer wishing for more. She was aware of her beauty and the power it had. His body was beginning to ache and several times he needed to refresh himself with a strong drink. She was sitting off to the side, in conversation, when he returned to the hall from the salon. He was ready.

  “Pardon me for interrupting, you look so lovely sitting there I hate to even disturb you, but would you care to dance with me?” He offered his hand and waited for her response.

  The tight smile on her lips was more than an answer and her eyes; they sparkled with a deep mischief that made his blood vibrate. Her fingers slipped into his, starting at his wrist and gliding up into the depth of his palm, smooth and fluid. He folded her into his arms and held her as close as he dared without defiling her name in front of the crowd. They moved in silence until he was about to burst and he had no choice but to take her from the room. He knew the perfect spot.

  When he arranged her on the bench it took him seconds to find her lips. He had expected her to be hard and naïve, but her lips were sweetened sugar, soft and wanting of his mouth and they edged him on to venture further. He was experienced, as any man of his years would be, but she was to be his wife and would need to be respected until the final day. He lapped at her throat and then contained his need behind a steadfast wall, pushing from her and standing.

  “Adelaide, I will call on you tomorrow evening. There is no time to waste. You are my vision.” He watched as she blushed, and he took her hand kissing her fingers, suckling along the length of one. Her eyes went wide and she sighed. The silk of her dress barely held the heave of her breast as she shuddered in his a
ttention.

  Robert sighed; a heavy sigh at the memory. He untied the lead of the stallion and mounted the saddle, heading back to the chateau. He needed to know that their relationship had progressed beyond that physical moment that it had not been built upon the sensual, sinking sand he had set them in on that first day. He knew he had created that, but Adel was more now, more than that lustful toy he had played with. He would be nothing without her, she was a part of his success and she should know that. He would make certain she did.

  * * *

  Chapter 3

  “Pardon me.” The woman and small child were in such a rush that they nearly missed bumping into the people they passed as they marched from one shop to the next along the sidewalk of Bond Street. Elisabeth was forced to step to the street level to avoid colliding with the small boy that was obviously being brought along against his will. She imagined the boy would have worked with the scullery maid to avoid this outing, his face was set in a stone cold pout and the death grip his mother had on his arm confirmed this.

  She had become use to these sites, the sounds and the people of Bond Street in the four years she had lived here. Each day was a new story to observe and new visions to behold and fresh inspirations for her fashion pallet, but that feeling had been dissolving little by little as the new season approached. It wasn’t that Elisabeth had lost her passion, but something was missing, she felt an emptiness growing and it made her restless. She still enjoyed creating her items for her clientele and for her own enjoyment, but often the ladies and men that came to her wanted the newest trend and they wanted it fast. This limited Elisabeth’s designs to what were popular, determined by others in the city and she feared she was losing her edge.

  The small silver bells bounced and jingled over the door of the House of Camille, Elisabeth’s own small dress shop; named for her grandmother, the woman who taught her every stitch she knew and left her the means to purchase the adequate shop. Elisabeth had worked hard and long hours when she began, she slept and lived in the back room and worked in the two larger front rooms day in and day out to make her life on Bond Street. Now she had her own small room several streets over and two girls that minded the shop and worked as seamstresses beneath her, never attending to the more intricate designs, but allowed to create the basics of morning dresses and corsets, and the occasional tea dress. Elisabeth still took on the heft of the work, creating the evening gowns, coats and tails, and lingerie. She was picky with her girl’s work, but fair.