His American Fling (31 page)

When we entered the reception room, Henry took a good look at Fiona and it was only then that I saw it.  It was so brief that had I not been looking for it, I would have missed it.  A look of longing, an unrequited love, had flashed over his face when he saw her. I wanted to hug him and tell him it would all be fine. 

We were asked what we wanted to drink and I chose another single malt whiskey although I had left the last one on a table in Fiona’s room.  Fiona ordered a
Pimms and then sat in the chair next to Henry.  I looked at them; both relaxed in their chairs near the fire and thought what a lovely pair they made.  They were so at ease around each other.

“Dinner is served.” Walker had announced it quietly, in a voice that sounded kind, not stuffy.  We all stood, Henry accompanied Fiona since we were considered a couple.  Peter accompanied Penelope and Penelope’s husband, Ralph, accompanied me. 

I found out that the Countess had taken her dinner in her rooms. I also discovered that she used to have the suite next to the Earl’s rooms, known as the Morning Quarters because they were a suite of rooms, a bathroom and a connecting door from the sitting room to the Earl’s sitting room. She had moved when her husband died, since Campbell’s wife would be expected to use the Morning Quarters.

I pretended to have several glasses of wine, always getting up to pour more.  But in reality, I wasn’t pouring much each time and I didn’t have much to drink. Towards the end of the dinner, I pushed back and excused myself to go to the bathroom taking my napkin with me. As soon as I got into the hall I traced my previous steps back to the wine cellar, opened the gate with the key which I put in my pocket and ran downstairs.  I found the cheapest bottle of wine, put the napkin around the skirt of my dress and closed my eyes, dropping it about three feet off the ground, causing it to break and splatter. Luckily, I only felt a few spatters on my nylons.  I ran up the stairs, locked up and put the keys on the hook.

The dining room was empty and they were all back in the reception room. I opened the door and went, “Psst.” They all turned around. “Psst, Fiona. Can you come here?”  I said it in a sing-song voice as if I were really drunk.  Fiona stood up and came out to the hall.

I tried to look petrified.

“Maggie, you look really nervous, what’s wrong dear?”

“I went to get a bottle of wine for my room down in the wine cellar. I think I broke a
bottle of something really, really expensive …Fiona, I’m not joking, I’m screwed. This thing was dusty and old, like this house.”

“Well, what was the name of it?”
                           

“Chateau Froggie something.”

“It was French?”

“It was dusty and red when it broke.”

“Alright, show me.”

I took her to the wine cellar, grabbed the keys and half way down the stairs,
and ran up past her, “Oh, I have to go pee Fiona, the broken bottle is in the third room on the floor. I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Hurry back and if you see one of the servants, send them down.”
             

I ran up, carrying the keys and hearing the gate lock behind me as I went back to the reception. 

I stuck my head in the door again, “Psst. Psst.”               Again, they all looked at me. Henry stood up, “Mags, you’re very drunk.   Perhaps—” I motioned for him to come over to me.  He chuckled and followed me out to the hall.

“Fiona needs help. She’s broken a bottle of wine in the wine cellar and wants you to tell her what the damage is…if it’s going to cost her an arm and a leg.”

“What was she doing in the wine cellar?”
              “I wanted a bottle for later and we were …oh, does it matter, she needs you
now!”

We walked to the wine cellar, causing quite a stir in the lower quarters as we passed by. When we got to the wine cellar, I took the keys and opened up the door. Henry let me go in and I started down the stairs.

“Oh, I’m woozy. Henry, can you help Fiona?  I need to sit down up here on the top step.”

He looked confused, but nodded, “Fine, take it easy and I’ll go down to help her.”

“Oh Henry, tell Fiona that while she’s down there she can fix what’s really broken. Oh and tell her the bedroll is behind the Château Fonroque.”

“What?” His face was completely scrunched up in puzzlement.

“Just tell her.”

He shook his head in wonderment and continued down the stairs. I jumped up, closed the oak door and then locked the gate, smiling to myself.  I put the keys over on a side table, out of reach from the gate. The only way Henry and Fiona could get out was when someone came down to rescue them, which would be in the morning.  I knew this, I had arranged it.
                           

Chapter 18

Paying the Piper

“Oh!  Henry?  What are you doing down here?”

“Mags said you dropped a bottle of wine and needed help.”  Henry noticed that Fiona had a little blood on her finger.  He clutched her hand in his hand and took out his handkerchief, blotting the blood.

“I didn’t drop it, she did.  And, I didn’t ask her to send you, I asked her to send someone from the staff!”

Henry could hear the frustration in Fiona’s voice, so he offered, “Well, I’m here, can I help?  What did she break?”

“Oh she was all in a tizzy, afraid she’d busted something valuable. It was just a Rothschild 2009.”

Henry made a face. “Ew, that’s horrid cabernet.  Bad year for them.”

“Yes, well, let’s go back and we can send down someone to pick it up.”

Henry allowed Fiona to go upstairs in front of him and then followed behind.  As she turned into the outer room and looked up the stairs she tilted her head, remarking, “That’s odd, the door is closed.”

Henry sprung in front of her, taking the stairs two at a time and tried to open the door. It opened. “The door is unlocked, but the gate isn’t.”

Fiona motioned with her hand as she climbed the stairs. “The keys are on the ring next to the gate, just reach through and—“

“There are no keys!”

“What?”
Fiona climbed the rest of the stairs and looked out. “Oh Damn! The keys are over there on the table.” Fiona could hear the dishwashers going down the hall in the kitchen and knew that most of the staff had probably gone home for the evening.  Only Walker and a few others would stay to insure that the guests were taken care of and to lock up. “
Walker!  Walker!”
Fiona yelled at the top of her lungs.

Henry took over,
“Walker!  Walker!  Hullo?  Anyone there? We’re in the wine cellar!”                                                                                                 
They each took turns for the next ten minutes and then sat on the landing saving their voices for when the dishwashers stopped.
                           
“Fiona
?”

“Yes?” she responded, her head tilted back against the stone wall.

“Maggie said something before she went up the stairs.  It made no sense, but maybe you can figure it out.”

Fiona looked over at him. “What?”

“She said, “Tell Fiona that while she’s down there she can fix what’s really broken.”  Oh, and then she said the bedroll was behind the
Château Fonroque.”

Fiona’s mouth dropped, her eyes grew wide as she realized what was going on.

“Oh Henry, we have been done in by a Yank!”
                           

Tilting his head, he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward. “What’s going on?  Why are you so worried and does this have something to do with avoiding me?”

Fiona stretched. “Oh, this is uncomfortable, let’s go down and see about the bedroll.”

Henry grabbed her wrist. “Wait, bedroll?”

“Darling, we’re here for the night, no one’s coming.  Tomorrow they’ll say they didn’t hear us, so don’t even bother.”

Henry followed her down. “You mean, Maggie deliberately locked us in down here?” 

“That’s exactly what—”She twirled around, looking at the different racks. “Henry, where’s the
Château Fonroque?”

“It’s a red, it would be this way. He walked towards the reds room, the warmest of the rooms, the temperature registering
approximately 13 degrees Celsius. He saw her shiver. Unbuttoning his coat he said softly, “You must be freezing.” He took off his coat and wrapped it around her, rubbing the fabric of the sleeves against her arm to create friction.  He looked down at her as he had a million times before. Their eyes met like old friends. She broke their concentration by turning abruptly.

Fiona stepped behi
nd one of the rack of reds and Henry went around the other. He chuckled. “I think I’ve found it.”

Fiona followed his voice and looked down. There were several votive candles, matches, a picnic basket, a cork screw and a twin mattress with the finest sheets entwined with a silk tie keeping it rolled up.
When they unrolled the mattress, there were two very warm blankets and one pillow.

The lights in the cellar were bright enough to read the labels, but Fiona lit the candles anyway.

“Is there a bathroom down here?”

“Yes in the far back room, just a toilet and a sink from what I remember.”

“That’s enough. Let’s see what we have in here.” She opened the basket, “Oh, some cheese, crackers, strawberries, a can of whip cream, plates, silverware, two wine glasses and a corkscrew. What’s this?”  She could feel a box at the bottom of the basket. Pulling it up out of the basket in one quick movement, she took one look and shoved them back into the basket.

Henry snickered as he lay on the mattress, his elbow on the pillow holding up his head. “Were they ribbed or just lubricated?”

Fiona turned to him, bright red. “I don’t know. I didn’t stop to read them.”

“Okay, can you tell me why my girlfriend locked me in the basement with one of my best friends and packed condoms as party favors?”

Fiona sat on the end of the mattress looking up at him. “She’s your girlfriend, you tell me!”

“Fee-owwwnn-aaaa!”  He growled comically.

Looking around, she took a deep breath and wiped her hand on her forehead. “You know the day of the fight you had with Campbell?”

Henry nodded.

“Well, Mags and Campbell managed to bury their differences for the night and have some international intercourse.”

Henry looked down at the ground, taking it in. “Was that it?”

She shook her head, “He’s desperately in love with her, Henry. She’s always been in love with him.”

“I always felt like Campbell was absolutely miserable around Maggie and me. I could tell he didn’t like us being together. I just never thought he’d get up enough courage to dump Gemma. Well, Fiona, you’ve only given me half the story.  Why is she locking us up together?”

“She has this romantic idea that you and I belong together.”

Henry sighed, rolling over on his back and looking up at the stone ceiling. “Well, she’s right. But, I decided last year that I’d stop chasing you. I had hoped maybe I could love Maggie like I love you.”

“What do you mean, love Maggie?” she said, the jealousy welling up in her voice.

“I doubt anyone will believe me, but I had…have…feelings for Maggie. She is spunky, optimistic, smart…well, she reminded me a lot of you.  But, there was always something stopping us from being truly happy. Now I know what that was.” He paused and thought about it. With sad resignation, Henry mumbled, “ Oh, well, the better man won.”

“
He’s not the better man!  Don’t you dare say that!”
  She yelled at him and hit his thigh.

Henry sat up on his elbows and knitted his eyebrows. “Fiona?  Why are you suddenly so sensitive?”

She stood up and walked a few feet away, staring at her shoes. “Were you telling me the truth?  You’re not going to ask me to marry you on Christmas?”

He smirked. “That’s right, you don’t have to worry.  I won’t embarrass you again with my pathetic dreams.”

She turned and stared at him. He gave her a smile, but then realized she looked hurt, not relieved.

“Fiona?  You are relieved right?  No more having to turn me down…” 

She played with a bottle on the rack in front of her, blowing the dust off, trying not to look at him.  Henry stood up and walked a few steps over to her, standing behind her. “You would turn me down, right?  If I ask you to marry me in a few weeks, you would turn me down?”

“Of course I would,
” she said quietly, not looking at him. 

Stepping in front of her, he put his finger under her chin and lifted it up.  Speaking very slowly and softly Henry watched her eyes avoid his, “Fiona, I love you. Will you marry me?”

She looked up into his eyes and had a hard time keeping her mouth from twitching and her nose from running.  A tear was rolling down her cheek, giving her away. He said nothing, but took his finger and wiped the tear away for her. She finally looked into his eyes.

He smiled. “I’m going to kiss you now.”  He reached down, inhaling her Harvest Organza Jasmine perfume. His lips opened and then touched her soft, moist lips. Touching her tongue with his, they kissed each other with a passion that had been building since they were teenagers.  Henry could feel her breath become erratic as she pushed her body into his. He reached under the dinner jacket he had loaned her and around her waist, allowing his hands to slip down the brown satin to her round ass and pull her into his groin.

Fiona could taste his tongue, smell the woodsy musk of his body, and feel the warmth of his body through the white cotton shirt.  His hand was slipping up and down her, sending chills of expectation through her body.  She leaned against the stone wall, hiked her dress a little and put a leg around his waist, melding them together into one.

The kiss became so heated that Fiona flushed with excitement. Untying his bowtie, Henry took his dinner jacket off her shoulders
and delighted in the fact that the curve of her plump, rigid, nipples poked through the satin fabric.  His mouth caressed her nipple through the satin causing Fiona to gasp and her groin tingle.

“For God’s sake, get that shirt off!” she growled.

Henry laughed out loud. “Yes, my lady.” He unbuttoned the dinner shirt and took it, along with the undershirt, off.

Slipping his hand around her long, thin, neck, he backed her up against the wall, kissing her down her clavicle to her breastbone.  Just as she undid the belt buckle and zipper on his trousers, his fingers pulled on her zipper, the dress dropping and revealing the white tops of her breasts as they bubbled over the strapless bra. He kissed them, letting his warm breath wash over them. 

Henry’s warm, moist, tongue licked her breasts underneath the thin slip of nylon fabric between him and her naked skin. She reached around and undid the bra which dropped revealing her white pendulous breasts.

Henry touched them like they were expensive china and then he pinched them hard as his tongue impaled her mouth over and over as if he was making love to her with it.  He reached up under her dress and caressed her hips and then her ass.

“Take it off.” He demanded.

Pulling slightly away from Henry, the dress fell to the floor revealing her semi-naked body clad only in bikini panties and high heels.  Henry dropped his trousers and then pulled Fiona down to the mattress feeling her quiver with excitement.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Oh God, yes.”  She suddenly pushed her mouth against his, licking his tongue.  Henry threw a leg over her to pin her down to the mattress.  Grabbing the bikinis, he ripped them off and then rolled her on her back, his hand across her throat again.

“You’re so beautiful Fiona.” His hand slid down her throat to her chest and across her breasts.  Staring down, he spread her legs apart with his leg.  His erection was pushing into her slit, resting just before the entrance.  Fiona took a deep breath and impaled herself on his shaft, sliding down the thick long member until she could go no further. Henry let out a deep, low growl. 

Neither of them moved, they let the moment soak in—the moment when they had finally connected both body and soul. He slid back, unsheathing his shaft, exposing it to the cool air, but stopping just before the tip left the warmth of her vagina.

Fiona moaned, she hadn’t been
this aroused in years. She felt her body undulate uncontrollably, taking over, pushing into him, pulling back, sheathing and unsheathing him in a rhythm that only increased as the pleasure built in her womb.

Henry put a thumb on her clit and rubbed as she continued to buck into his thumb. The orgasm was heavy at first until he reached down and flicke
d his tongue across her nipple tipping her climax into a blinding, throbbing, pulsating sensation of contraction after contraction, sending pleasure to her curled toes and up to her breasts.

“Henry!  Henry!”

It was the sound of his name coming out of her lips, the sound of “Henry” rolling off her tongue, the sound ripe with the sexual tension and release of her orgasm that sent him over the edge, ejaculating as he cried out.  He could feel the release from the depth of his as her orgasm gripped and squeezed the juices from him.

The waves slowed and then stopped, Henry let his
body down, supporting it on his side with his arm extended. He finally caught his breath, “Now, what were we talking about? I believe we were deciding if we’d live in Audley End or buy a bigger place closer to Cambridge after we get married?”

****
*****************

“Walker?  Where is Miss McGee?”  Fiona asked, her hair still wet from the shower. Walker was setting down the tray with the tea she had ordered. Fiona looked around Henry’s room and there wasn’t any evidence that Maggie had ever been there.

Henry was zipping up his Levis as he listened to Walker’s response, “She accepted a ride from one of the staff back to Cambridge last night. I’m afraid it was rather sudden.”