“The doctor will see you now, Lady Henrietta.”
The receptionist’s pleasant voice broke into Hettie’s inner debate and set up a little flutter in her heart.
Stevie’s therapy methods sometimes led to soul-searching and unearthed difficult facts that had to be faced.
Hettie smoothed down her skirt as she rose to her feet and followed the girl into the consulting room. And as a slender and rather dapper figure rose from behind the desk and came forward to meet her, she experienced a glow of pleasure coupled with a strange forbidden thrill.
Doctor Stephanie Madrigan was handsome woman of medium height whose sleekly gelled auburn hair and elegant clothing were as severe and masculine as her perfectly appointed consulting room. She’d been a friend of Piers and had become Hettie’s friend too.
“How are you, Hettie?” the doctor inquired, her soft voice seeming to flow across Hettie like honey as he led the way to a leather-covered sofa “I’ve been wanting to come and visit you, but I thought I’d better wait until you were ready. Please, won’t you sit down?” Her firm hand guided Hettie down onto the deeply upholstered couch. “Let’s have a glass of sherry, shall we? I’m sure it’s not too early, and it’s not as if this is a formal consultation, is it?”
Hettie watched her pour two glasses of fine old sherry from a cut glass decanter on the sideboard, then place them on a small occasional table before them. She suddenly realized that she hadn’t yet spoken a word.
That was the effect Stevie Madrigan had on her, born of the realization that the doctor’s kindly and professional persona held in check some openly bisexual sentiments. Sentiments that always piqued Hettie’s sensual curiosity.
“Now then, how can I help?”
A dozen answers hovered on Hettie’s lips but none of them quite made sense. Now that she was in the consulting room she didn’t really know why she was here. Ostensibly, it was Darryl, but in her heart it was Starr she was consulting Stevie’s wisdom about.
“Well, it’s like this,” she began haltingly, “I got a phone call from a friend the other night. Renata di Angeli, I think you know her… She asked me if her cousin could come and stay with me.”
Quickly and with more ease than Hettie had expected, the whole story came pouring out. Darryl. His beauty. The pangs of attraction she’d felt. All the while Hettie spoke, she was aware of Stevie’s piercing eyes upon her, occasionally narrowing as if the doctor was hearing far more than the words that Hettie occasionally faltered over. When the newly resumed nocturnal visits from Starr were finally revealed, Stevie tapped her forefinger sagely against the side of her elegant nose. She’d listened in silence until that moment, but now she gave a soft and kindly laugh.
“So at last we reach the real reason you’re here.” Stevie’s eyes glittered as she poured more sherry.
“What do you mean?” demanded Hettie, gulping her sherry and only just managing not to splutter, “I came here to ask you about Darryl, not Starr. Starr and I have an arrangement. It’s perfectly civilized. It doesn’t need discussing. It just works.”
“Rubbish!” announced the doctor crisply, “The sex part works okay, naturally. How could it not work with a hunk like him? No, it’s more than that. The man adores you. Haven’t you realized that by now? And he always has done. And that, my dear, beautiful, sexy Hettie, is why Piers threw the two of you together in the first place. He was looking ahead, bless him—” Stevie’s face contorted a moment, in obvious sorrow. Piers had been her lover too, some years before Hettie and he had met. “He was grooming Starr as his full-time replacement, after his death.”
Hettie did splutter then, and she was pink in the face by the time Stevie had brought her a drink of water from the cooler in the corner of the room.
“But how can Starr love me?” protested Hettie when she was able to speak clearly again, “I mean… He’s passionate enough in bed, but he never actually says very much. And out of bed, well, he’s…he’s…so correct. So distant. So goddamned bloody polite! It’s like having a ten-foot brick wall between us all the time!”
For a moment an intense and almost painful longing gripped her heart. She imagined low, fevered endearments murmured in that deep, yet melodic voice of his. Protestations of affection, and—even more exquisite—avowals of devotion and love.
Oh, Starr! A sheen of tears suddenly clouded her eyes.
“Of course he hasn’t said anything,” said Stevie, sounding exasperated, “He’s bound himself into some ridiculous and archaic code of honor and chivalry where you’re concerned, Hettie. It’s some sort of demented, half-assed reverse version of ‘courtly adoration’ where he’ll fuck your brains out but he’ll never reveal that he loves you!”
“But why?”
Hettie abandoned her water and reached for her sherry again. She felt more confused than ever by this confirmation of something she had sort of suspected. And hoped for,
Does Starr love me?
Was he hiding profound emotions beneath that faultless façade of courtesy and service? What she’d told Stevie had been true. Although he expressed his pleasure at the peak of their couplings, sometimes in low heartfelt groans, sometimes in hoarse shouts, sometimes in colorful profanities—he never ever spoke actual words of love.
Which made him seem even more superhuman than ever. How could a man love a woman and share the most intense physical intimacies with her yet not disclose his feelings?
It didn’t seem possible, even for an exceptional personality like Starr.
“I think you’re wrong, Stevie,” Hettie said, frowning, “Surely he would have told me if he felt like that? How could he not?”
Suddenly, Hettie experienced a great swirl of emotion. What kind of a mess was she in? What did she feel? She cared for Starr, she knew that, and knew it was more than that. He was beginning to dominate her thoughts for virtually all her waking hours. And even her dreams sometimes.
Was that love? Or just a deep bond of reliance and sexual tenderness because of the situation they’d found themselves in?
“Because he’s Starr,” said Stevie sagely, “And he’s a stubborn so-and-so, and he won’t break a rule. Even if he’s the one who’s made it.”
Hettie felt like hugging her arms around herself and rocking with distress. What am I going to do? What am I going to do?
“Hey, relax, don’t get upset.” Stevie’s voice was soft, and soothing, and it was only then that Hettie realized that she actually was rocking and was hunched forward, clutching her sherry glass as if her life depended on it.
The doctor pried Hettie’s fingers from around the glass and put it aside. A moment later, her slender arm slid around Hettie’s shoulders, instantly imparting a welcome sensation of comfort and reassurance. “What am I going to do?” whispered Hettie, unable to prevent herself from leaning into Stevie’s warm, calming hold.
Stevie let out a sigh. “Maybe you just need to stop worrying and trying to analyze what might happen,” she said softly, “and just relax and let things happen.” Stevie shook her head and tut-tutted. “Men, eh? They’re splendid creatures…but they’re trouble too. What you need right now is a complete change of scene. A chance to kick back and relax away from the city.”
“But I can’t relax!” Hettie cried, more confused than ever, “How can I? I’ve suddenly turned into a sex maniac!” Shaking, she huddled close and hid her face against Stevie’s shoulder, “I’m a widow, for God’s sake! It seems obscene to be so horny at a time like this! And yet when Starr turned up the other night, it was suddenly exactly what I wanted!” She bit her lip, wondering again how the cool, unfathomable blond had known to come to her room anyway.
“Actually,” said Stevie, her other arm circling around Hettie too, making an embrace that was both comforting and vaguely sensual at the same time. “Your increased sex drive is quite natural at a time like this.”
Unable to stop herself, Hettie looked into Stevie’s eyes again and found them steady and intent. The other woman’s ga
ze made her feel settled again.
“You’ve suffered a great loss, Hettie,” Stevie went on, “Had a close brush with death. And now your mind and your body are reaching out to life again. In the simplest and most straightforward way.” Her long fingers moved gently and soothingly over Hettie’s back. “Sex is life, Hettie. What’s happening is your soul’s own way of healing itself. You mustn’t try to fight it.”
“But I don’t fight it!” Hettie gave a rueful grin as relaxation flooded through her. “I’m ready the moment Starr steps through the bedroom door. Before even. Sometimes I only have to look at the back of his head when he’s driving me somewhere and I want him!”
Stevie answered the grin, her hand stilling on Hettie’s back. “And there’s nothing wrong with that. But are you sure it’s just desire you feel for him?”
Of course it isn’t. It’s much more. I love him.
The words sprang into her mind, unbidden, but somehow they stalled behind her lips. She dragged in a deep, deep breath as if the wind had been knocked out of her. And as she stared at Stevie in confusion, the image of the doctor was blurred by sudden tears. A moment ago she’d felt calm, but now she was all over the place again, thrown into chaos by thoughts of a pair of cool, unreadable blue eyes and the irrational effect they had on her heart and her body.
Great sobs made her shake and gasp for air again, but Stevie’s arms closed even tighter, kept her still. “There, there,” the doctor murmured, whispering gentle soothing nonsense in Hettie’s ear as she shuddered and wept.
It took a while, but eventually the storm inside Hettie blew itself out. She unwound herself from Stevie’s hold and heaved a sigh, still perplexed but calmer now.
“But I loved Piers. I still love him. How can I already be having feelings for someone else?”
Stevie shrugged her elegant shoulders, and patted Hettie’s hand. With a wry little smile, she reached for a box of tissues from the coffee table and handed them to her. “There isn’t a straightforward answer to that one, love. But I do know that what you’re feeling isn’t wrong. And you know that Piers wouldn’t think it was wrong, don’t you?”
Hettie nodded, thinking of her kindly husband, whose love had been more generous and more selfless than any woman deserved. She dabbed her eyes, feeling drained. Wishing that there were a way to take time out, and just think about everything.
“It’s all too much. I can’t take it in.” The tissue was turning to shreds in her hands now, and without speaking, Stevie reached for a wastepaper basket beside the chair and held it out.
“Piers. Starr. Now Darryl too. I don’t know what to do. I feel completely muddled.” Hettie tossed the tissue in the bin. “What would you do, oh wise one?” She found herself smiling, suddenly seeing absurdity in her situation.
“Okay, here’s a thing,” the doctor said at last, “Like I said, you need to get away from the city and take a holiday down at Dragonwood. You. Starr. Darryl. A nice, relaxing break in the country air… Just what the doctor ordered!”
Stevie grinned, looking mightily pleased with her prescription. Reaching for the sherry, she topped off both their glasses a little. “And if I can fix it, I’ll come down there too, and I’ll take care of your horny Italian for you. How does that sound? If I assume the responsibility for ‘educating’ Darryl, that’ll leave you free to sort out exactly where you stand with Starr. And get things out in the open at last.” She took a sip of sherry and regarded Hettie sagely over the rim of her glass. “You know it needs to be done.”
“Do you really think so?” Hettie asked, feeling a surge of confidence.
“I know so!” said Stevie decisively. “And I think the best way to do it is to give all the staff down there some paid leave, so we can all just fend for ourselves. And keep things intimate.”
“Yes, you’re right!”
A great excitement welled up inside Hettie, a fluttering in her heart not unlike the sensation long ago when she’d been planning her honeymoon with Piers. They’d stayed at Dragonwood then, in love with the beauty and atmosphere of the exquisite Queen Anne pocket mansion as much as they were with each other. Not that they’d seen much of the house. The room they’d become most thoroughly acquainted with had been the bedroom.
But this time, it would be Starr sharing that bedroom. And this time it was his heart she’d delve in to and decipher. Even if she didn’t like what she found there, she had to know. Or go crazy.
“It’s perfect!” cried Stevie, clearly warming to her theme now and gesturing gaily to the sunshine that was streaming in through the window. “In this weather you can go native too. Swim and sunbathe naked. If that doesn’t start things happening I don’t know what will!”
It was a wonderful idea, although Hettie decided not to point out that she always preferred not to get too much sun. But it didn’t matter. There was a lovely trellis-shaded terrace at the side of the house, close to the outdoor pool, where she could bask on a lounge chair and enjoy the fresh air without getting baked. Starr, of course, was magnificently tanned, his muscular body like beaten gold all over, and she didn’t imagine the heat would bother Darryl too much either. He was already sun-kissed and his skin the color of honeyed caramel.
“Mmm…” Hettie looked closely at Stevie and saw her eyes were glittering brilliantly as if pure devilish glee had been shot through an emerald prism.
“You know you might try flirting with Darryl. It might take something drastic like a bit of old-fashioned macho jealousy to melt Starr’s ice and force him into telling you exactly how he feels.”
“Stevie! You are outrageous! You can’t seriously be suggesting that!”
“Why not! It’s worth a shot. And don’t try and tell me it hasn’t already crossed your mind.”
Hettie blushed. As ever, Stevie was bang on target.
“Or you could always flirt with me?” the doctor suggested.
“Stevie!” Hettie protested again, but less vehemently. Stevie had a knack of employing this kind of harmless sexual teasing between them to lift the mood. But for a second, Hettie did wonder. Wonder what might have happened in a world where Starr didn’t exist…
“I’m only fooling with you,” said Stevie gently, “You’ve got to lighten up a bit and not be so hard on yourself all the time.” Her beautiful face grew suddenly solemn. “But seriously, as for Starr, you know he’d do anything in the world that you asked of him, don’t you? Including laying down his life if it came to it.”
She’d never actually thought about it, but as Stevie said it Hettie knew it was true. “Yes, I know he would. But I don’t think he’d admit to jealousy even if he felt it. He’s the most private man I’ve ever met. Which is exactly the problem.”
“That’s as may be. But let’s get back to the matter in hand. Where exactly are the men in your life today, by the way?”
“Well, Darryl was still fast asleep when I left, so I just left him to have a lie-in. I feel a bit of a selfish bitch though. I should have been showing him the sights of London or something. Being a good hostess. Taking proper care of him.” Hettie gnawed her lip, feeling guilty that her obsession with her own emotional problems seemed to have eclipsed those of her Italian visitor.
“Don’t panic, love,” Stevie said gently, “He’s probably better off taking it easy just now. He’s had a trauma and some big changes in his life, and it’ll take some getting used to. “
Hettie described Darryl’s persistent tiredness, then suddenly found herself telling Stevie what she’d seen last night, just before Starr had come and whisked her out of the nanny’s room. The image of Darryl collapsing back onto the bed, his body loose, boneless and sated. His orgasm preparing him for rest.
“That’s good,” Stevie said crisply, apparently completely unfazed by the idea of Hettie’s voyeurism, “It means his constitution his trying to heal itself naturally. The more rest he gets the better, and we all know what activity promotes the deepest relaxation and the most beneficial sleep, don’t we?”
She smiled though, as she looked at her friend, and wondered what lay ahead of them.
She was going away for a country house party… With Starr, Darryl and Stevie.
She didn’t dare begin to predict the outcome.
Chapter Five
Hettie’s sense of fatalistic anticipation lasted all the rest of that day and into the next one.
Traveling home from Stevie’s consulting rooms, she tried to focus on the practicalities of the coming trip to Dragonwood rather than the welter of confused emotions that that tumbled in her mind. But it was difficult.
What do I feel for Starr? How can I love a man so remote and so emotionally buttoned up?
And if she did love him, how was it she could also find Darryl such a turn-on too?
Putting aside her questions for a moment, she reviewed the plans for their trip. They could drive down in the big car tomorrow morning. Herself, Darryl and Starr at the wheel of course. Stevie, after clearing her appointment schedule, would follow around lunchtime.
Starr would make any necessary staffing arrangements and Hettie knew better than to interfere in that area. He was managing her household perfectly well without any assistance from her whatsoever, and she suspected he’d be mortally offended if she started trying to stick her nose in and make changes. She knew that eventually she’d take hold of the reins of her life again, and think about a productive future and perhaps returning to gallery work, but now was not the time.
When she arrived at Pengilley Gardens, she was relieved to find she needn’t have worried about Darryl being left alone.
“Oh, he’s gone off with Mister Starr, Milady,” Mrs. Phillips informed her cheerfully. “Gone to the British Museum, I believe.”
Lessons and Lovers Page 7
