Suddenly Maurice stopped and stood in complete silence. Henry prodded Shelley in the ribs and whispered dramatically, “Do you think he’s dead?” Shelley smirked. “Don’t be so rude, he’s thinking. He’s artistic.” Henry raised his eyebrows. “I could think of other words to describe him,” he whispered, earning a stern glare from Shelley.
After a few more seconds of unnerving silence, Maurice started to pace the ballroom slowly, in quiet contemplation. “Hmmm, I wonder where Freddie would be happiest,” he mused, causing Shelley to laugh loudly. “My father’s called Frederick,” she told Maurice, who ignored her and continued to move cautiously around the ballroom, stopping to ponder at various points.
Not wanting the huge pink bird watching over her during her reception, Shelley suggested that maybe the hallway would be the best place for him. She shrugged her shoulders dismissively when Henry’s jaw dropped and he stared at her. “I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” she whispered, kissing Henry on the cheek as the whirlwind that was Maurice left the ballroom shrieking in agreement, clearly delighted that he had found the ideal place to site Freddie.
Shelley clutched Henry’s hand, grinned at him, and tugged him reluctantly behind her. “God give me strength,” he muttered under his breath, as they followed Maurice out into the hallway, where he was flitting around and flapping his arms. Shelley ignored the disapproving gaze of Henry’s butler, who clearly did not like this man dashing around the house.
Shelley grinned. She had had no idea that planning her wedding would be so much fun.
Chapter Fourteen
The next two weeks passed in a whirl for Shelley. Tables and chairs were delivered and the ballroom was decked out ready for her big day. She went for dress fittings with Clara and Jessica, and she was absolutely thrilled with their outfits. Her own gown was the most amazing design she had ever seen and she hoped that her mother would love it as much as she did.
Taking a break from her wedding preparations, she started to flick a duster around in the lounge. Within minutes Henry joined her and tutted, taking the duster from her and sitting down, quickly pulling her onto his lap. “There’s no need for you to do household chores,” he told her, kissing her softly on the lips.
Shelley smiled. “I know, but I like to help out, at least until Mrs Carter arrives and takes over my duties. After all, you did originally hire me as your maid,” she reminded him, closing her eyes and recalling how she had first met Henry. At the time she had been so miserable, and would never have believed her unhappiness could have led to such a loving relationship with a man who clearly adored her.
Shelley opened her eyes as Henry squeezed her hand affectionately. “You’re no longer my maid though. You’re soon to be my wife. You’d better start getting used to it.”
Shelley wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly. “Can I keep the uniform?” she grinned, releasing him and raising the hem of her skirt, flashing her bloomers at him. She gasped when his cock hardened beneath her, and she gazed longingly into his eyes.
“Come on, let’s go for a walk,” he said, shifting her off his lap and adjusting himself. “You will not seduce me before our wedding day, young lady, and if you insist on trying, I can only assume you need a sound dose of the hairbrush on your bare bottom to calm you down,” he warned. Standing up, he gripped her hand and led her out into the garden.
Shelley smiled as she eagerly trailed behind him. She did not relish the idea of a spanking, but since he had kissed her private parts, she was desperate for him to take her to his bed. She would often lie in bed at night and put her hand into her bloomers, pressing her finger up against her clit, wondering how it would feel when Henry touched her there properly. She had not actually masturbated, but she knew that just touching herself there felt nice, and she longed for Henry to take her virginity.
“We could both do with a bit of fresh air,” Henry said, snapping Shelley from her daydreams, “especially as Mau-reeeece is coming later,” he added, with a dramatic roll of his eyes. Leading her out of the garden and round the side of the house, he opened the gate and guided her out into the street. “Let’s take a walk into town,” he suggested. “Maybe we can lose track of time and leave my staff to deal with him,” Henry grinned.
Shelley shook her head and smiled. “That would be really unkind,” she playfully chided. She loved Maurice. His wife was right, he was very eccentric, but he was hard not to like. She could see that Henry had some reservations about him, and she wondered what her parents would make of the very flamboyant young man. Suddenly halting in her tracks, Shelley gripped Henry’s hand tighter.
“My parents are due to arrive tomorrow morning,” she reminded him. Henry nodded in agreement. “I know. Clara has prepared a guest room for them,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “You must be so excited about seeing them again.”
Shelley nodded, chewing her lip anxiously. “What if Father still wants to strap me?” she asked nervously, recalling the last time she saw him and how angry he had been.
“Oh, Shelley,” whispered Henry, pulling her into his arms and holding her close. “He’ll be so relieved to see you’re alive and well. He won’t care about anything else.”
“I hope you’re right,” scowled Shelley, taking his hand and continuing to walk with him.
Shelley sighed happily as they walked through the park, noting the slight chill in the air as she watched the leaves falling from the trees. She loved autumn, it was her favourite season, and she was thrilled that she was to be married in late September. She grinned, realising they were already well into the month and her wedding day was only two weeks away.
After walking for a while, Shelley needed to rest her legs and she pulled Henry towards a bench. Sitting in quiet contemplation beside him, holding his hand, she watched a young couple pushing a pram. She looked at Henry and smiled. “I hope that will be us one day soon.”
Henry brushed her cheek tenderly with his fingertips. “Oh, Shelley, that would make me the happiest man in the world.” Leaning forward and kissing her lips, he sighed, “I’m sure we’ll have a little one of our own soon enough.”
“I absolutely adore Jessica,” Shelley quickly added, not wanting to offend him, but his smile never wavered and she was pleased that he did not seem to mind expanding their little family.
“I know that, and she adores you too. Come on, let’s get you home,” he smiled, removing his jacket and draping it around Shelley’s shoulders as she trembled slightly. “My staff would probably walk out if I left them to deal with Maurice,” he smiled.
Walking beside Henry, his arm wrapped protectively around her, Shelley rested her head against his shoulder and moved slowly alongside him.
Her happiness was almost complete. She longed for the reunion with her parents tomorrow and her upcoming union with Henry. She could barely wait to show her mother the dress she had chosen, and she was even looking forward to seeing Maurice later that day. Henry had reluctantly allowed him to set up his elaborate pink flamingo sculpture in the hallway, which was to be decorated with flowers on the morning of the wedding. Henry had told Shelley that the minute Maurice left the house, ‘Freddie’ would be covered up with a sheet until their big day, after which he hoped to never see it again. She had giggled as she had wholeheartedly agreed with him.
Shelley was so deep in thought, before she knew it they had arrived back home. As they wandered up the garden path, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.
“Shelley,” said Henry, concerned. Following her eyes, he cast a glance towards the stranger standing by his front door.
“Dexter,” squealed Shelley, shrugging Henry’s jacket to the ground. Running up the path, she flung her arms around her parents’ butler. She hugged him tightly and sobbed against his chest, apologising for running away and making them all worry. Eventually she calmed down and released her tight grip on him, before taking a step back.
“Are my parents here?” she asked, holding her breath and glancing t
owards the house, waiting impatiently for him to answer. She had not known that Dexter would be travelling with her parents, but surely that was the only explanation for him being here now.
Dexter nodded. “Yes, Miss Shelley. We arrived almost 12 hours earlier than scheduled, so we made our own way here. Your parents are waiting in the lounge. I just came outside for a breath of fresh air.”
Shelley’s eyes filled with tears as she turned to look at Henry, who grasped her hand tightly. She glanced across at Dexter, who took her other hand, and with her heart in her mouth she headed towards her front door, hardly able to believe that for the first time in more than five months, she was about to see her parents again.
* * *
As Henry led the way up the steps and opened the front door, Shelley gripped the hands of the men on either side of her even tighter. Her emotions were in turmoil as she reluctantly allowed them to lead her into the house. Her legs felt heavy and she literally dragged herself into the hallway, her knees knocking and her hands trembling.
Seconds later, the lounge door opened and Shelley’s mother appeared. As soon as Lady Annabelle set eyes on her daughter, she broke down in tears and rushed towards her, pulling her into her outstretched arms. When Shelley finally managed to break free of her mother’s vise-like grip, she smiled at her and whispered, “I’m sorry. I swear I’ll never do anything so foolish ever again.”
“I love you,” Shelley added, smiling when her mother’s sobbing continued as she cradled her long-lost daughter in her arms and whispered, “I love you too, my baby girl.”
Shelley swallowed nervously as she glanced towards the lounge doorway and saw her father leaning against the door frame, quietly watching them through narrowed eyes. She looked apprehensively at him, trying to gauge his mood, before she was finally overcome with her love for him. Breaking away from her mother, she immediately ran towards her father, launching herself into his arms. “Daddy, I’m so sorry,” she cried, clinging to him tightly, desperate for some reaction to show he cared. She was surprised when her father pulled her close to him, lifting her clear of the floor, where he held her in his arms, his body quaking as her legs dangled down.
After a couple of minutes, Lord Frederick loosened his grip on his daughter, lowered her to the floor, and backed away, keeping hold of her hand which he caressed gently with his big fingers. “I love you, Daddy,” Shelley told him. “I’m sorry for what I put you through. I was so ashamed of myself. I truly thought you’d prefer it if I never returned home ever again.” Shelley looked up at her father and thought her heart would break when she saw the crestfallen look on his face, and realised the pain she had inflicted. “What can I ever do to make it up to you?” she asked both of her parents, who were now standing together in front of her.
Her mother grasped her father’s hand tightly, while with the other hand she reached out and stroked her daughter’s hair, her eyes scanning over every inch of her as if she could barely believe it really was Shelley. Her parents did not reply and Lord Frederick simply shook his head as they stood gazing at their only daughter, relief apparent on their faces.
Shelley smiled, seeing a real change in her parents. Her father seemed much more openly affectionate towards her mother, and Shelley’s smile grew when he leaned across and kissed his wife softly on the lips, before turning and planting a kiss on his daughter’s forehead. Pulling the two close to him once more, he sighed loudly and closed his eyes.
“If I could go back in time, I would talk to you both sooner about my concerns. I would try harder to make you understand how I felt. If I’d actually met the duke, maybe I might have grown to love him, and might even have happily married him,” she shrugged, glancing apologetically across her shoulder at Henry. She knew that would never have happened, but she desperately wanted to make amends with her parents.
“Nonsense,” scoffed her father. “I’m sorry I tried to marry you off to such an unsavoury man. He showed his true colours after you left.” Shelley stared at her father in disbelief as he stroked her hair and shook his head angrily.
“He didn’t care about you,” he snapped. “He simply wanted to have a beautiful woman on his arm. His only concern was his own social status, nothing more.” Lord Frederick sighed with regret as he pulled Shelley into his arms.
“Forgive me?” he asked, squeezing her tightly. Shelley clung to him. “Oh, Daddy, of course I forgive you. I love you so much.”
Finally Lord Frederick released her and Shelley turned to her mother and hugged her again. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the familiar and comforting scent of her mother’s perfume, floral and very feminine. “I never hated you,” Shelley whispered, stepping back from her mother and looking at her apologetically. Shelley was happy when her mother smiled brightly and stroked her cheek in an affectionate gesture, nodding agreeably. “I know you didn’t mean it. I just wish I’d listened to your doubts, especially as it turns out you were right to dispute our choice of husband for you. He was definitely the most obnoxious man I have ever had the misfortune to meet. I can’t believe how callously he behaved.” Lady Annabelle shook her head with regret as she smiled at her daughter.
“I don’t blame you,” whispered Shelley, gripping her mother’s hand. “You only wanted what was best for me. I know that now.”
“Yes,” said her father, crossing the hallway towards Henry, “and it seems you were more than capable of finding that for yourself.” Holding his hand out towards Henry, Lord Frederick firmly shook hands with him and thanked him for taking care of his only daughter.
“I thought class made a man, but it seems I was wrong in the case of the duke of Southampton. He tried to shame our family, but it seriously backfired. He’s turned himself into a social outcast,” he stated flatly. “I’m so glad Shelley found you.” Shelley watched her father as he vigorously shook hands with Henry, before finally releasing her fiancé’s hand from his firm grip.
Lord Frederick sighed and turned back to his daughter, pulling her into his arms and kissing her gently on the forehead. Her mother joined them and Shelley clung to them both, happy to be reunited with them. They stood in the hallway for a long time, clutching each other, no words necessary to show how they were all feeling.
When her father eventually released Shelley and led her and his wife into the lounge, Dexter joined them. Henry appeared moments later with his butler, who was carrying much-needed tea and biscuits. The small group sat together and talked non-stop, Shelley’s parents and Dexter very keen to find out about her exploits aboard the Titanic. Henry sat beside her and held her hand throughout, squeezing it encouragingly as she retold the story of how they all escaped. It hurt her to relive her ordeal, but she tried to focus on the nicer parts of their voyage, and her life since arriving in America.
Shelley brushed away a tear and watched her parents, who clung to each other for support when she talked about jumping into the icy Atlantic. Shelley guessed it must be hard to realise how close your only child had come to death.
“But I got through it unscathed,” she reassured them, leaving Henry’s side and going to sit beside her mother. “And even better, I found love with a man who loves me too.”
A knock on the door interrupted their conversation and all heads turned as a reluctant Clara opened it a crack, an apologetic look on her face as she pushed her head through the gap. “Shelley,” she whispered, before the door burst open, almost sending Clara toppling to the floor as Maurice burst in.
He rushed towards Shelley and dramatically brushed at her tears with a handkerchief he quickly produced from his pocket as he crossed the room. “Don’t cry,” he shrieked, “you’ll get wrinkles. We don’t want those on our wedding day, do we?” He tutted dramatically and shook his head as he waggled his finger at Shelley, took her hand, and pulled her to her feet.
Shelley giggled when her parents slowly stood up and looked in horror at Maurice, his blond hair worn loosely around his shoulders, his black pinstripe trousers held up with bright red br
aces against a vibrant turquoise shirt.
“Maurice, this is my mother, Lady Annabelle,” she told him, grinning when Maurice took her mother’s hand and ran a trail of kisses from wrist to elbow. “Lady Anna-bellaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! How nice it is to meet you, at last. I can see where Shelley gets her stunning good looks from.” Maurice winked at Shelley when her mother blushed and smiled brightly at him.
“And this is my father, Lord Frederick,” she added, smirking when her father took a backward step as Maurice reached out for his hand and shook it firmly. “Another Freddie,” Maurice exclaimed delightedly. The look of horror that crossed her father’s face made Shelley think he feared Maurice may kiss him too.
“Are you French or Italian?” Lady Annabelle queried, smiling coyly and batting her eyelashes. Maurice beamed and took her hand once more. “Oh, no, no, no,” he playfully chastised, kissing her hand again. “I’m American. Just a little ec-cen-trique,” he told her, making Shelley laugh as he slowly pronounced each syllable and changed the ending of the word to make it sound much more exotic.
Shelley smiled when Maurice ushered her parents back to the sofa, sat down between them, and enthusiastically filled them in on his plans for the wedding. He held Lady Annabelle’s hand, stroking it gently as he told her how he had been born and bred in Las Vegas, the son of actors. Shelley listened in interest, surprised to hear about his past. He told how his parents had aspirations to see him on the stage, but he showed more interest in setting the stage up, and this had led to his love of floral displays and art.
Seeing her father’s obvious discomfort, Shelley looked towards Henry and jerked her head in the direction of her father. Henry smiled and nodded knowingly. He immediately stepped towards the sofa, apologised for intruding and suggested he and Lord Frederick go to his office to discuss the wedding finances. Lord Frederick smiled at Shelley and Henry with relief, quickly excusing himself. Shelley grinned at her mother, who gazed mesmerised into Maurice’s bright blue eyes. Shelley noted with amusement that neither of them had even acknowledged when Lord Frederick left the room, guessing that was because they hadn’t even noticed him going.
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