by Jada Turner
“I don’t think I will wear anything underneath Jane. It’s likely to be rather warm in the theatre. Just lay out my silk stockings.”
Jane looked at Diana. “Yes Miss.”
Jane rummaged around in the drawer into which she had unpacked Diana’s clothes. She found the silk stockings and laid them on the bed next to the dress.
Diana let the dressing gown fall to the floor and stood naked catching her reflection in a full-length mirror on the wardrobe. She smiled at the image. Her figure was still good, perfect even, and her breasts full but not too big. Her hair bunched up in blond curls matched the ivory of her skin.
She pulled on one silk stocking and then the other. Jane helped her slip the dress on bringing it up her legs to her shoulders and adjusting it, so it hung just right and showed off her décolletage to perfection. A long silk scarf covered her shoulders and another tied like a turban adorned her head.
Diana knew it was unlikely that she would see the stranger at the Theatre and even more unlikely that if he were there, she would get to speak to him. But she lived in hope.
***
“Oh my goodness! How romantic!” said Mariah as Diana explained her new found lover and their assignations while they sat in the drawing room awaiting their escort.
Fitzgerald, in white tie and tails, arrived in a fine coach with four horses and his driver.
With one cloaked lady on each arm, he escorted them to the coach and handed them up inside. They sat together facing forward with Fitzgerald on the other seat facing them. Diana could smell the new leather of the coach. Her tummy had butterflies anticipating, or more hoping, that she would see the stranger.
“Have you seen the Rivals before?” enquired Fitzgerald.
“Yes, in Drury Lane two years ago,” said Mariah.
“No, I haven’t,” said Diana.
“A young woman falls in love with a man she believes is penniless but he turns out to be a rich man. That is part of the story,” said Fitzgerald. “Of course it is all nonsense.”
Diana thought about what Fitzgerald had said. A man believed to be penniless but turns out to be rich. No, that would not be the case with the stranger. He was certainly a man of mystery and not really of the lower classes although he tried to give the impression that he was. There must be a dark secret, Diana decided. Whatever it was, it didn’t stop her longing to see him again and make love to him.
The carriage arrived at the theatre and disgorged its occupants along with other carriages. It was a fine evening and brought out the area’s elite. The tickets had been sold at a higher price than usual to keep out the riff-raff. Fitzgerald had managed to get the best seats, a box that looked down on the stage.
Diana and Mariah took their places on gilt chairs with plush red upholstery. Fitzgerald sat next to Mariah. Diana looked around the auditorium, but there was no sign of the stranger.
The play began and Diana tried to become engrossed in the farcical plot on the stage but all the while she kept wondering if he was out there somewhere.
The interval came. Diana, Mariah and Fitzgerald took refreshments in their box. And then Diana saw him.
The stranger was outside their box. He wasn’t in white tie and tails like Fitzgerald. He had his usual shabby clothes on, and the first thing she noticed was that he had managed to get the buttons on his trousers repaired.
“Yes, what do you want man?” said Fitzgerald with authority.
“Beggin’ your pardon sir,” said the stranger. “I’ve a message for Lady Diana from her husband if I may, with your permission sir, divulge it to M’lady in er… confidence sir.” His delivery was worth a role on the stage.
Diana hoped Fitzgerald wouldn’t see through him.
Mariah turned her face towards Diana and raised her left eyebrow. Diana sent back an almost imperceptible nod.
“Well, I don’t want you going anywhere unaccompanied with this ruffian,” said Fitzgerald.
“I’ll go with her,” said Mariah.
The two ladies stood. Fitzgerald stood in respect and then sat down as the ladies left the box. Diana closed the box’s door.
“I take it this is…?” said Mariah.
“Yes,” said Diana.
“I see,” said the stranger. “I just came to tell you that I am sailing for India in two days time. I thought it polite to let you know.”
Mariah stepped a discreet distance from the couple.
“Oh.”
“Well, that’s that then,” said the stranger turning to go.
Mariah stepped back to them. “You can’t go just like that man.”
“Excuse me Miss but I don’t think this is any of your business,” said the stranger.
“Indeed it is not. But obviously you two are a couple of fools if you part like this. She reached into her purse and pulled out a small key. She handed it to Diana. “This is for the rooms in the Pantiles, you know, where we used to play as children. We still own it. You have an hour and a half before the end of the play and a few minutes while people leave. I’ll cover for you. Be back here in one and a half hours, no later.”
Mariah opened the door and stepped into the box.
Diana heard her say: “Jolly bad luck. Diana has to sort out a couple of minor problems. She’ll miss the last act, but she’ll be back in time for carriages.”
“Is she safe with that man? Who is he?”
“Yes perfectly safe. He’s one of her servants.”
***
Diana walked along the Pantiles, past the spring that brought the wealthy and and well connected to Tunbridge Wells to take the waters now that it was fashionable after the Prince Regent’s visit. Her heart almost in her mouth beat like it would escape from her body. The stranger followed a few steps behind like a dutiful servant. They arrived at the door. Diana tried to insert the key, but her hand shook too much. The stranger took it from her, turned the key and pushed open the door. He held it for her as she entered and then closed it behind him.
They climbed the stairs to the room. A chaise lounge occupied the centre. Carpets lay rolled at the side. A rag doll sat on a shelf looking at them. Diana remembered it from when they used to play there as children pretending that this was their house.
The stranger took her hand and kissed it. Then he kissed her lips as his hand slipped down her décolletage and squeezed her nipple gently.
Her hands went inside his jacket, round his back and pulled out his shirt.
He reached down and lifted her dress, running his hands along the silk stockings until he reached the bare flesh of her thighs. She saw him blink with surprise when his fingers touched the uncovered hair between her legs.
“I hoped I would see you,” she said without the slightest trace of modesty.
He leaned her over the chaise lounge, lifted her dress up and put his finger inside her. She gasped with the pleasure and unbuckled his belt.
“Just a minute,” he said with a smile. “I need these trousers intact.” He undid the buttons. Diana took his erection in her hand and coaxed him towards her mouth. She took it between her lips and gently rubbed her tongue over and over the end while holding his stiffness between her forefinger and thumb moving it up and down, up and down.
She turned him over so he was on his back across the seat and straddled him. She felt it go in without resistance and gyrated sending little shocks of pleasure up and down her spine.
He eased her off him, stood her up with her hands on the back of this useful piece of furniture. He slipped off her dress to her feet and lifted it over her shoes laying it on a table. She stood naked save for her silk stockings and shoes, leaning over the chaise lounge with her back to him.
He entered her from behind making her gasp as his erection probed her clitoris from this different angle.
She didn’t want it to stop. In and out, in and out he continued to plough. She felt the wetness all around her blond nest.
He stopped, turned her around and kissed her on the lips. He lowered her to
the floor, on the carpet. She looked up at him. He still wore his jacket and shirt but his trousers were off and so were his shoes and socks. His erection looked enormous.
“Hurry, put it in again,” she said.
He kneeled in between her wide apart legs, bent forward and ran his tongue down from her nipple to between her legs. His tongue went inside her making her shiver with passion. Then he lay on her, and she felt his hard penis slide inside.
She could feel each movement as it slid up and down without any resistance. His breathing was deep and regular. Then he seemed to lose control. He thrusted and thrusted with great strength sending her into paroxysms of ecstasy. Harder and harder he thrusted. Harder and harder she wanted him to thrust until she felt her whole body shudder like she’d been struck by lightening. He convulsed, and she felt him fill her up before a feeling came over her like every nerve in her body had relaxed.
They lay in each other’s arms unable to speak.
After a few minutes, Diana managed to say: “Why did you come for me? Was it just for this?”
“I couldn’t get you out of my mind after we met. No woman has ever done that to me before.”
“Why are you going to India?”
“I managed to get a commission in the East India Company. I can make my fortune there if I can take command of a friendly Maharajah’s army.”
“Why not a commission in the army here?”
“There are reasons. And I would never get rich in the army here.”
“So you are going out to rob the Indians?”
“Certainly not. No I can make my fortune legally and without robbing anyone.”
“Will you ever come back?”
“Some day.”
Diana felt a tear escape.
“Don’t be sad. You know this was never going to be forever. It isn’t possible.”
“Because we are of a different class?”
“No, we are not different classes. I’m the third son of a Duke, but I’ve been disowned for reasons with which I shall not bore you. No, this could not be forever because you are a married woman, and I am considered a pariah in this country.”
“Will you at least tell me your name?”
“Richard Devere-Scott, son of the Duke of Durham.”
Diana stood up and slipped on her dress while Richard put on his clothes.
“So I shall never see you again?”
“Never is a word I prefer not to use. Diana, you have created something in me that I thought I had lost. I want to regain my reputation so that I can hold my head high in society again. Going to India seems the only avenue I may take to achieve that goal.”
“And if you achieve your goal, will you come back?”
“I shall. And I shall seek you out wherever you are.”
Chapter 6
Diana knocked on the door of the Rectory. She hadn’t come to see the vicar; she had come to see his wife, Mrs Higgins. Had this woman been alive in ancient Greece she would have been the Oracle. She couldn’t make inquiries anywhere else or someone may ask too many questions. But eight months had passed since he had gone and she was desperate to know more about this enigmatic stranger with a secret.
“Do come in dear. Would you care to take tea?” said Mrs Higgins showing Diana into the drawing-room
“Yes please.”
Mrs Higgins fussed her maid to her task and then sat Diana down plumping up the cushions before sitting on the settee alongside her.
“Now what can I do for you Diana?”
“I’m just curious. I’ve come across a man by the name of Richard Devere-Scott, who purports to be the third son of the Duke of Durham. I just wondered if he was indeed genuine.”
“Oh dear Diana. I hope you and Sir Reginald are not thinking of entertaining this man socially.”
“Oh! I take it he is not genuine then?” Diana had no doubt that he was indeed genuine, but she still wanted to find out as much about him as possible without raising awkward questions. “Reginald and I were thinking about it. Would that be a problem?”
“Indeed it would Diana. The Duke disowned him. They say he’s a blackguard who stole his regiment’s silver and sold it.”
“Oh dear. Then we must certainly avoid him.”
“Indeed you must Diana. It’s a dreadful shame. He stole the silver and gave the proceeds to his men who were discharged from the army after Waterloo. The government made no provision for them and neither did the regiment. Some had families to feed. I don’t know how you came to cross his path. Fortunately for him the regiment didn’t want the embarrassment, so no charges were laid. They could not countenance one of their captains being dragged through the courts.”
“He was a Captain in Wellington’s army?”
“Indeed he was Diana. I’m surprised he’s surfaced again. I understood he had gone to India.”
“Thank you,” said Diana sipping her tea.
He would come back to her some day. Her fantasy captain in Wellington’s army was real. He would return for her.
Diana winced.
“Are you all right dear?” said Mrs Higgins.
Diana touched her eight month’s pregnant belly. “Yes, just a kick.”
END
Willing Spirit
1
Shayne adjusted the cuffs of her long-sleeved blouse and turned her nervous gaze toward the front door of the diner. She checked her wrist watch. It read half past twelve. He was fifteen minutes late.
The door of the diner swung open, admitting the cacophony of traffic from beyond. Shayne looked up, her heart catching in her throat. Her excitement was short-lived. The man who entered was elderly with bleary grey eyes. He was not the one she was expecting.
The waitress approached and began to fuss with the table. Shayne watched as she set fresh napkins and flatware on the red gingham table cloth.
“Just a few more minutes and I'll order,” she promised. “My date should be here very soon.”
The waitress nodded and left. When Shayne turned back to the door, she saw a man silhouetted before it. The afternoon sun was behind him and it rendered him featureless. She shaded her eyes with one hand and his face came into focus.
He was breathtaking. His rugged face, dark hair, sensuous mouth and green eyes brought a soft sigh to her lips. He looked a thousand times better than his profile picture and he was approaching her.
“Shayne?” he asked. His voice was tentative and deep.
“Ren?” She rose to her feet and extended her hand to him. He did not take it; instead he looked deeply into her eyes. She lowered her hand and dropped back into her seat.
“I was afraid you weren't coming,” she said.
“I apologize for my tardiness. I was delayed. I am glad that you did not leave.”
“It's alright. Would you like to sit down?”
He shook his head. “I do not feel the need to dine at this time. I had hoped that you would indulge a habit of mine and walk with me instead.”
A smile curved Shayne's lips. “I'd love to.”
She rose to her feet and collected her purse. He moved aside so that she might walk ahead of him. The air outside was cool and crisp outside the door.
“There's going to be a storm soon,” he said, looking up into the sky. The afternoon sunlight was beginning to wane. Dark, menacing clouds were filling the sky and leaching the light away.
“There's talk of snow,” Shayne said. She looked up at him, for he towered over her small frame. She wanted to take his arm, but dared not.
A strangely comfortable silence passed between them. They ambled down the sidewalk, passing the local curio shops and restaurants which populated the small and sleepy town. None of the shop owners or customers spoke to her in salutation, nor did they ask about the stranger at her side. She smiled at them anyway.
They left the street and entered a small park near the outskirts of town. It was a strange place to have a park, what with the presence of forest only a few yards away, but it was a popular
place for young and old alike. As they stepped off of the asphalt onto the winter dried grass, Shayne finally found the courage to ask him a question.
“Are you from England? Your profile on Elovers.com didn't mention anything about it. And you've never written about it in an e-mail. I'm wondering because you have an accent.”
“I am originally from England. Though I have not lived there in quite some time. America is my home now.”
“Why did you leave?”
He avoided her question. “This is the park you have spoken so highly of? You are correct. It is quite beautiful.”
Shayne frowned. “What made you move to America?” she insisted.
“I would rather not speak of it.”
She looked into his eyes, and saw the sorrow there.
“Was it a woman?”
He started at the question and, for a moment, his entire form seemed to flicker and shift. Shayne blinked, unsure of what she had just seen. Her skin tingled. In a purely reflexive action, she reached out to touch him. He backed away and out of reach.
“Please...do not,” he said.
She lowered her hand. “I'm sorry,” she mumbled.
Silence fell. Shayne felt as though a great divide had come between them.
“I didn't mean to offend you,” she said. “We have had such wonderful conversations in our e-mails. I came to believe that we shared a friendly intimacy. Am I being too forward?”
“No,” he replied. “No, you have a right to know. But, not here. It is a long tale and I would feel more comfortable relating it in familiar surroundings. Would you care to accompany me to my rooms?”
Shayne was speechless. She stood staring at him.
“Now, I am the one who is being too forward,” he said lowering his eyes.
“I'll go with you,” she said quickly. “On one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That you give me your last name.”
“It is Knight. And your surname is...?”
“Jacobs.”
“Come, Shayne Jacobs. We shall retire to my rooms on Maple Avenue.”
