by Anna Edwards
"Sure, boss." James watched them disappear, took off his jacket and neatly folded it onto a chair. He pulled the cufflinks from his shirt and then pulled it over his head. It was his favourite; no way was he getting it ruined. He took the ladder and the necessary few tools Amy had apparently been using and pulled them to an angle that would mean he’d get the least water over him. He climbed and began to screw the bolt on the pipe. Amy had actually undone it. He sighed. She would feel like such an idiot, but if he lied to her she’d be angry at him.
The water stopped gushing. They’d found the stopcock and turned it off. He tightened the bolt as Amy and Matthew returned. Her eyes were red from crying and her tears had made streaks through the dirt on her face.
"Have I severely damaged it? Oh God, is it going to cost much to get fixed? I’m so stupid. I should have just put a bucket under it and called a plumber in the first place. I just knew they’d charge me so much."
James got down and brought her to his chest as she started crying again. Matthew went to the side and began to tidy up.
"The pipes are fine. You turned the nut the wrong way. That’s all."
"What?"
She pushed back from his bare chest.
"The bolt. You undid it, rather than did it up."
Her anguished wail echoed against him as she buried her head in him again.
"It’s an easy mistake to make. You aren't a plumber."
"You didn't make it." She said grumpily into his chest.
"I used to build houses remember." James almost carried her to one of the sofas and sat her on his lap.
A lady in dance gear entered the room. She brought her hand to her mouth, saw James comforting Amy, smiled, and went to help Matthew with the tidying. Amy lifted her head. "How much will it all cost to fix?"
"A couple of thousand for the ceiling, same for the floor. Maybe more, depending on whether we can get matching parts or the whole stage has to come up. I’d get all the pipes and stuff checked, though. There is no guarantee how old they are or what condition they’re in after your uncle’s time as landlord."
"I don't have that money. We’re supposed to be renting it out to a drama club for their Christmas production next weekend. I’ll let them down, and it’s all my own stupid fault."
James pulled her chin up so that he could look into her doleful eyes.
"You’re trying to do too much on your own. Repairs to pipes? Come on."
"I just don't want to be a failure all my life. I want something for myself. Something I have achieved myself."
"And you’re doing brilliantly. But you’re tired and worn out. You’re not thinking straight." James swallowed. "Let me help you, please?"
"James, not now."
"You said you wanted honesty. Well, I’m going to give you that. You carry on in this way and you will never get this school off the ground."
She looked at him with her mouth open. James took a step back, braced for her to launch herself at him, but her whole body shrank.
"You're right."
"Pardon?"
"You're right. I need help. I need your help."
James’ mouth dropped open, "You, young lady, never stop surprising me." She gave him a weary smile. "Look, we once discussed the idea of me investing in your dance school, for a return, of course." He stressed that bit. "We never got to discuss the finer details, but we can do that later tonight. I’ll get my maintenance team to come and fix everything. I’ll get them to check electrics, water, and fix anything else that needs to be repaired. If you’ve any more decorating, or whatever that needs doing, they can do that as well. I’ll have it all done and ready for the show next weekend. You won’t let the drama club down. You’ll need to shut the school so my guys can do everything, but we can give Elena paid leave and offer bonus sessions to students to apologise for the inconvenience. I want you to step back while that is all done, though. I’ll take you away to my country home. It’ll be peaceful and you can rest. We need to be there over Christmas anyway for my sister’s wedding. What do you say?"
"I..I.." She looked around the room at the mess. "I can't just leave for two to three weeks if you include the Christmas break."
"You won't. Anytime you want to check on the club we can fly back and be here within a few hours."
"It’s all too much money, James."
"Amy. In my lifetime, I’ll never spend all the money I have. Even if you one day give me twenty kids and I have to put them all through university and set them up with cars and houses... my primary concern is you. You’ve worked yourself to the bone. As for fatigue? Fatigue is an understatement. You’re making errors like that pipe because you are so very tired."
"It’ll be an investment. I’ll pay you back every month."
"Of course."
Amy turned to where Elena and Matthew were watching them and waiting.
"Please. That is what I want to do." Her words were music to his ears. He was sure, as he held her to his naked chest, he could hear Matthew and Elena cheer. She sat back up and transferred dirt from her face to his with a passionate kiss before standing to go and help Matthew and Elena. "Oh and James? We’re having two children maximum."
He gave an elaborately fake sigh. "Does that mean we stop having sex after that?" Amy picked up a sodden cloth and threw it at him as hard as she could.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Amy
The light aircraft touched down, and James removed Amy's seatbelt before his own. Matthew did the same for Sonia.
"I’m starting to feel a bit left out here." Miranda chuckled.
"Sorry, mum." James leant forward and undid her seatbelt.
It had only taken a few hours for them all to pack and decamp to the City Airport for the short trip up to The Yorkshire Dales and touch down at Leeds Bradford for a short drive to James' country home. Amy was drained and fell asleep the instant she sat in her plane seat. All she wanted now was some food and a bath. She hadn't had time to shower, and although she had changed her clothes and rinsed her face, she could still feel the grime all over her body and in her hair.
She had been foolish to think she could do everything alone. She wanted to be independent, but James was right, she was a dancer and a writer. She had no skills in DIY or building repairs. She had never been taught them. And why should she be? She needed to be less stubborn and actually let James help her a bit.
They pulled up to James' country estate and her mouth dropped in awe. It was dark, but lights lit the path all the way up to a mansion. At the top of one side were turrets that gave the building a look of a castle. Amy couldn't see properly in the dark but she just knew the place was genuinely old. She imagined it was somewhere the Queen, or at least an Earl, and his family had lived. Lights also illuminated a formal garden. How much land did this place have?
"This is yours?" She spluttered out.
He nodded and the car stopped. James helped Amy from the car whilst Miranda was helped by Matthew. A man in a suit came running out and greeted them.
"Welcome home, Sir. Do you wish to clean up first or have dinner?"
James looked to Amy,
"Any preference?" Her stomach gurgled an answer. "Dinner it is then."
Another member of staff came out and took Amy's bag.
"I’ll take this to your room, Miss."
"Thank you." She tugged on James' arm. "How many people work here?"
"The majority of the property is run by Mr Aimes, my steward, and his family. That was his eldest daughter who took your bag. I keep several people from the village on retainer for when I’m up here, and there’s the garden staff. It is a local business, they’ve started to offer weddings, etc. I open the house in the summer to visitors, so I have staff for that. It has some history behind it from the War of the Roses. Edward hid out here for a while."
"How old is it?"
"The oldest part is thirteenth century, but much of the rest of it originates from Tudor and then Georgian times. It has gone through a lot of cha
nges. You can see the Tudor in the red brick work to the east but the west wing was added later. The main entrance is the thirteenth century part."
"I’m not even going to ask how much it cost."
"You know me, Amy, I got it for a bargain, and did it up."
As they walked through the house, Amy took in all the traditional architecture and furnishing. The entrance hall had a vaulted ceiling, and it was decorated with portraits James told her were previous owners. She was lead through to a large banqueting hall, and the wooden tresses gave the room a Tudor feel. It was like she had stepped back in time and she should be dressed in corsets and long flowing silk skirts, and she certainly should not be at the house of a man who was not her husband.
They finally reached the dining room, where an elaborate table had been laid out with crystal glasses, fine china, and silver cutlery. The dining room was a formal room. The table could seat at least thirty guests. A massive fire in the Inglenook fireplace was alight and providing warmth. The walls were covered in silks of a rich burgundy colour. She was beginning to feel like she shouldn't touch anything and nestled closer to James.
"Is it overwhelming?" He looked down at her.
"You own this?"
"It’s my home. And if you want me to do a ‘Mr Darcy’ from the lake for you, I’ll be happy to oblige."
"You’ve a lake?" He pulled out a gilded chair for her, and she sat on it with a thud. It creaked. She groaned and checked for breakage.
"I have a maze as well; I plan on getting lost in it with you for several hours tomorrow.”
His mother coughed politely. "Not at the dinner table James."
"Sorry mum." James took his seat at his mother's right as Miranda continued to talk.
"Amy I was nervous at first coming here, but it really is so beautiful and so rare to actually be allowed to live in a place like this. Once you get past the resident ghost of course."
"Ghost?" Amy shrieked
"Mum. I only just got her here. Please, she’ll be walking out the door in a minute." Matthew and Sonia both chuckled as James took Amy's hand. "It’s fine, Amy. There is no ghost." Amy let out the long breath she had been holding just as glasses of wine were poured and their first course arrived.
"Do you always eat like this here?" Amy took a mouthful of her spicy pumpkin soup.
"Not always. It depends on what we’re all doing, but we do try to have an evening meal or breakfast together," Miranda replied. "It’s the one thing I insisted on when James bought the place. Too many people don't do enough things as a family nowadays." She turned to James, "When are Sophie and Grayson arriving? Did you tell her we came up early?"
"I texted her. She said they’ll be here at the weekend. She has lots of things she wants to organise before the wedding. I think I’ll put her in the West Wing. Amy and I are going to camp out in the East."
"Don't you annoy her. It’s her big day. She just wants everything to be perfect."
"Would I annoy my sister? Really? When has that ever happened?"
Amy sat back. She loved watching them banter. Matthew joined in, and Sonia also added a few words. Amy just sat with a smile on her face taking it all in. For the first time in a long time she felt like part of a family. She was nervous at the thought of meeting Sophie, but excited at the same time, and prayed that Sophie would like her.
"Come on Amy. You’re supposed to stick up for your boyfriend. They’re accusing me of all sorts of stuff. Tell them I’m not annoying."
She took his hand and squeezed it. "No, of course not James. Frustrating, grumpy, and nagging. But you’re not annoying." Everyone at the table exploded in laughter. James clicked his tongue in his mouth and scanned her face, and down to her breasts. Under the table, he slid his hand up her leg. Amy shut her legs tightly to stop him going too far. He leant over and whispered into her ear. "You will pay for that later."
Amy licked her lips. "Promise?"
The steward appeared beside her and took her soup bowl. Dinner was brought, roast chickens with assorted vegetables and potatoes. Delicious gravy and, of course a real Yorkshire pudding. Would they really get a three-course meal every night? She’d need to go running every day. More wine was served, different ones to match each course. A dessert of a chocolate cake followed. Would she have room for it? It was so decadent but she managed to force it all down. She did draw the line at licking the plate, though. Matthew didn't, which earned him a whack from Sonia.
By the time Amy ended up in the cast iron bath in her bathroom she was virtually falling asleep. She laid back and let herself sink into the water to wash her hair clean of all the bits of ceiling dust. When she came back up James appeared with hot chocolate for her and brandy for himself.
"How are you feeling?"
She hummed a contented sigh.
"That good eh? I’ll have to bring you here more often."
"I still can't believe you own this place. I feel as though I’ve died and returned to Earth as a member of the Royal Family."
"Well, I don't have a peerage yet. But maybe, one day."
"Lady Amy North," she chuckled "I like it."
"North?"
"One day."
James came to kneel beside her, and she reached a hand over the side of the bath and pushed the collar of his shirt apart so she could see the engagement ring.
"One day."
He leant forward and kissed her.
"Do you want me to do the shampoo for you?"
"Please."
He picked up the bottle of shampoo, squirted a little of the jasmine-scented liquid into his hands and began to massage it into her hair. She hadn't had it cut for a while so it was long and probably in terrible condition. She should ask him if he could get a hairdresser here for her, but she already knew the answer would be yes. She shut her eyes as he massaged the soap into her scalp. He used the strength of his fingers to ease the last vestiges of tension from her.
"Amy?"
"Yes."
"This bedroom is not my own. Mine is reached through a door interconnecting the two rooms. Just as it would’ve been in the olden days. The husband and wife didn't sleep together. They only met for the purpose of making babies."
Amy sat up and turned to face him. "I wanted to give you a choice while you’re here. If you want to spend a night alone, you could, but equally, if you want to spend a night with me you can." He pulled out a key and placed it on the sink "That is the key for the door. I don’t have a copy."
Amy pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him. Her heart was beating so fast. He was giving her a choice and freedom. He was giving her the control over the relationship still.
"James. I want you to take the key and open the door. If we want a night apart while we’re here all either of us have to do is just say so. Besides, I’d need a thicker wall to dampen down the noise of your snoring."
"Hey." He flicked water at her.
"Oh yeah? Two can play that game.” Amy flicked a massive shower of soap suds and water over him.
"You are really going to be in trouble later."
She shrugged, a telling, playful smile on her lips, "You keep saying that."
James stood, removed his clothes, and got into the bath behind her. He slid his hand under the water. He pushed her thighs apart and circled her sensitive bud with expert pressure. She rocked in the water as she lay against his chest listening to his heart beating with excitement. The pressure between her thighs built, her core beginning to flame out through her body. The lapping of the water brought more stimulation to where she wanted it most. Her back arched and her breasts thrust up into the air.
"Told you that you were in trouble."
"Please, James."
"No." He had a tone of menace in his voice as he removed his hand and unceremoniously moved Amy forward in the bath so he could get out.
"What the fuck? Get back here."
"No, I think I’ll sit here and finish my brandy while you finish washing your hair."
"Jame
s." She pouted pleadingly at him. "Please."
He picked up his brandy and held it aloft in a cheer.
"Here's to frustrating, moody, and if you don't hurry up, wash your hair, and get in the bedroom with your legs spread, then nagging."
Amy sunk back under the water, silently cursing and planning revenge on the man with whom she was head over heels in love.
CHAPTER EIGHT
James
James’ cock twitched with anticipation as he watched Amy stomp sullenly around the room. He was lying naked on the ornately carved four poster bed in his bedroom. He had wanted to have an antique bed, but they’d been too small, and his feet had hung over the end, so he had one made.
Amy pulled a fluffy dressing gown over herself.
He loved to tease her this way; she got so stroppy with him and spent most of the time with the cutest glower on her face.
"Amy?"
"What?" Her answer was short.
"Can you pass me some pants out of the top drawer please?"
"When did your last slave die off?"
"She hasn't. She’s wiggling her sexy little arse at me at the moment."
"Bite me."
"I will later, thank you."
"You think you will be so lucky?"
"Oh, I will, don't worry."
Amy pulled open the drawer which contained his underwear and chose a pair, slammed the drawer shut, and threw them at his head.
"I’m going to your library to pick a book to read."
"Amy."
"What." She turned with her hands on her hips and a look on her face that would melt ice. He stood up next to the bed. "Drop your dressing gown and lay on the bed on your stomach."
"Thought I was in big trouble."
"You are." He turned on the authority in his voice. "Do it now."
She instantly dropped her gown to the floor and scrambled onto the bed to lay with her perfect little backside facing up. He opened the door to a vintage wardrobe and began to pull out a few pieces that he had bought from the shop. He set them aside on a dressing table. He heard Amy shift on the bed so she could get a better view of what he was doing.
