All of Us Fit in Our Places

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the shapes of things emerged. Dresser, bedside table, bed, and then the simple outline of his heart's delight. Anna had discarded her blouse and her skirt.

"Come here, Charles."

He moved to stand in front of her and she pushed his jacket from his shoulders. He started to turn to catch it, but she took his arm.

"Leave it. You look at me."

Her eyes were bright pinpoints. She stared into him as her fingers plucked at his shirt buttons. As she reached the bottom, she eased her hand into his trousers to lift the last of the fabric free and her cool skin brushed his. He gasped and started to lift his hands to touch her, but she put her finger to his lips.

"No, Charles, you wait until I'm ready."

He swallowed and let his hands fall by his sides. Unexpectedly, Anna didn't remove his shirt, instead sliding her hands inside it to caress his skin. Charles felt a tension building inside him: contrasting pulls between action and stasis.

She stepped a little closer and he could feel the warmth of her. Her scent was going somewhere deep down inside him. Her fingers flipped the button of his trousers and slowly eased down the zip of his fly. Her eyes never left his.

His trousers slipped down his legs to puddle round his feet. Her hand was now cupping his erection again. Her thumb massaged his crown through the thin cotton of his boxer shorts.

He started to speak but she stilled his words with a finger on his lips; then turned around and stepped back half a pace to bring them together. His hands automatically came up to her waist and she lifted them to cup her breasts. Her head leant back against his shoulder, and he nuzzled her hair.

Suddenly he understood the point and closed his eyes, caressing her from breast to hip and back while she teased his cock with the side-to-side sway of the smooth swell of her buttocks.

On one of their downward journeys, she captured one of his hands and directed it between her thighs. Unfortunately, being taller, Charles had to crouch awkwardly to reach.

Sensing his frustration, Anna led him to lie with her on the bed. This time her hand covered his and guided him to where he discovered that she had somehow magically discarded her underwear in those few steps.

Her fingers led him to gently explore the slick folds and her breathing grew heavier.

"I should have blindfolded you," she murmured and pushed him on to his back.

He felt her free his cock from his shorts and then she was moving, getting up. Wondering what was going on he started to raise himself up on his elbows only to feel her pushing him back down. His hands fell to his sides, and he felt her straddle him and grasp his shaft again.

Moments later the most amazing sensation enveloped him, hot, slick, and exquisite.

"Ah!" he gasped.

"Are you okay?" Anna asked, a note of worry in her voice.

"I ... I think I may be in heaven! Would you kiss me, Anna?"

"Always."

She leaned forward and the changing sensation on his cock made him gasp again. Then her lips were on his and her tongue was in his mouth. He arched his back, driving himself deeper inside her and she jerked suddenly.

Aware that something was amiss, he opened his eyes. She was looking at him with a profound expression on her face.

"I'm certainly not a virgin anymore, Charles," Anna whispered. "I think there may be blood on the sheets."

He started to apologise, and she kissed him again.

"I'm fine, and, can I ask, Mr Stanforth," her voice took on a sly note, "do you know the expression, 'male superior'?"

Charles laughed and rolled them over. Anna locked her ankles behind his back, and he started a slow back and forth. Almost all the way out and then filling her completely, delighting in the way she used her legs to pull them together, while at the same time resisting the urge to allow her control.

He became aware of the erotic, liquid, sound of their mating, and his senses were flooded. Her hands stroking his back, the weight of her as she pulled at him, the earthy animal smell of their combined sweat and sex, the rhythmic gasps they were uttering together. Charles Stanforth comprehended the full meaning of coupling.

"Oh God, Charles! I think I'm going to ..."

Her voice trailed off as she shuddered and used her full strength to pull him as deep as she could, internal muscles rippling on his shaft. He uttered a guttural cry as he emptied himself into her, his muscles straining.

After a moment, he let himself down on his elbows and made to withdraw but she tightened her grip. He realised she was crying and leaned forward to kiss away the tears.

"I knew you were as big a romantic as David," she sniffled.

***

To your marks

August

The car slowed and Charles pulled off into an entrance flanked by two brick pillars. A single-track lane wound off through mature trees with strangely flat and uniform bases to their canopy.

After a minute or two, the car crested a small rise, and the house came into view.

Anna looked at Charles. "Isn't this where you say, 'Welcome to Pemberley.'?"

"Oh, come now, Dearborn's not as big as all that. The Johnson's place," he waved a hand vaguely to the right, "is much bigger."

"But you have a lake, Charles."

"Pond with delusions of grandeur."

Anna snorted. "Any other surprises I need to prepare for?"

His mouth turned down. "My family."

"Yes, you've said. Is it Cold Comfort Farm? Should I be wary of something nasty in the woodshed?" she said, attempting to lighten the mood.

He patted her hand where it lay on her knee.

"I'm not going to skew your opinions of them in advance but be on your guard, my dear."

Anna frowned; they couldn't be as dreadful as all that. Could they?

The gravel crunched under the tyres as Charles brought the Aston to a halt in front of the house. Anna got out and stood looking up at the stone facade while Charles retrieved her over-night bag from the boot of the car.

They walked towards the front door which was at the top of a short row of steps. Anna slid her hand into his as the front door opened.

"Nice motor, Charles!"

A man's voice came from inside, then revealed as he stepped round the door, to be owned by a version of Charles that had been marked 'Country Squire' at the development stage, ruddy cheeked and stockier in the build.

His voice trailed off as he caught sight of Anna, then his gaze dropped to their joined hands, and he whirled and ran back into the house.

"Charles has got a girlfriend, everyone! Charles has got a girlfriend!"

Anna looked at Charles. "You did tell them I was coming?"

"I thought it best to surprise them. Less time to prepare their arsenal. That was Giles, by the way."

A young blonde woman appeared at the door and quickly advanced towards them.

"A rescue party, oh thank God! Please say you brought civilisation with you!"

"My sister, Anastacia," Charles murmured, and then introduced them properly.

His sister seized Anna's hands and drew her into the house.

The hall was enormous. Either side of the front door two wide staircases spiralled up to a galleried landing overlooking the entrance hall. A long chandelier hung from the lantern to illuminate the space. Beyond, two arches to either side led ... somewhere else, she supposed.

Anna became aware of another face watching her from upstairs. There was a brief impression of brown hair cut in a bob, dark eyes, and full red lips before she disappeared.

She was pulled between the pillars that supported the landing and towards the right-hand arch, through which there were yet more doors to either side, more stairs leading down, and up, and tucked into an alcove, a lift.

They paused for a moment in an archway, and Anastacia turned to her. This close, Anna realised she had stunning grey eyes.

"Do you need to freshen up?"

"Can't hurt," Anna replied, slightly shaken by the intensity of the other woman's gaze.

"Just through there and to the right."

Anna opened the door to an Art Deco confection. In the wall facing her were three black marble sinks with chrome fittings. To either side of the mirrors over the sinks were tall slim frosted glass vanity lights. The floor was a classic black and white tile while the monochrome was offset by beautiful pale pink wallpaper.

She stood for moment in wonder, jumping slightly when Anastacia spoke in her ear.

"It's rather lovely, isn't it? The only part of the house left from that period."

"It's fantastic!" Anna exclaimed.

Anastacia grinned, pleased at Anna's enthusiasm.

"Don't spend so long gawking that you forget to pee!"

Anna laughed and went inside.

Anastacia had the strangest feeling that a pivotal moment was in process, as if some massive stone door was turning unseen to close off one way while simultaneously opening another.

She shook her head and made her to the drawing room, smirking at her older brother as she passed him in the hall.

He smiled at her, and her heart was filled with unexpected hope.

Emerging a few minutes later, Anna found Charles waiting for her.

"Mother is in the drawing room, Father's probably in his study. Given that I didn't give them advance notice of our arrival it's not a surprise that they're not assembled but then it's probably better this way."

Anna frowned at him. "What is the matter, Charles?"

"You'll see."

Charles opened one of a pair of double doors and light spilled into the small hall. From inside, a piano started to play Mendelssohn's Wedding March. Anna shook her head and started forwards into a vast double room.

Ahead and slightly to the left was a large low table flanked by two sofas. A grey-haired woman was sitting reading a magazine with her back to the door.

To the right, the grand piano sat in a large bay window where Giles was banging out the chords to the familiar tune with gusto, grinning in a slightly unsettling way.

Anna wondered what he could possibly mean by continuing but a quick glance at Charles reassured her. If he was ignoring it then she would too.

Anastacia had perched herself against the back of yet another set of sofas flanking a table in front of a fireplace at the opposite end of the room.

Another young man sat next to her on the sofa, and he looked up briefly. His resemblance to Charles was obvious and Anna concluded that he must be Byron, the other of Charles' younger brothers.

Charles brought Anna round to face the woman sitting reading the magazine.

"Mother, this is Anna."

"Hello, Mrs Stanforth," Anna said, politely.

His mother glanced up at Anna and scrutinised her for a moment before turning back to her magazine. Anna looked uncertainly at Charles, and he gave a slow shake of his head. He took her elbow again and led her to the other end of the drawing room.

"You've met Stacia, this is Byron and that is Giles."

Anna smiled and nodded to them all.

Giles jumped out from behind the piano and bounded towards her.

"So, when's the big day?"

Before Anna could frame a reply, Stacia drawled, "Oh for heaven's sake, Giles. Do you have to be so juvenile?"

"Fuck off, Stacy. This is going to be more fun than Byron's last squeeze!"

"You're an arse, Giles," the young man retorted.

Anna frowned at Giles.

"I take it you're short on entertainment. Do you pull the wings off flies when you've nothing better to do?"

Giles blinked, Byron gave a brief bark of laughter and Stacia began a slow handclap.

Giles and Anna stared at one another for a long moment before Charles took her arm.

"I'll take you to meet Father," Charles said, and they reversed course to leave by the way they had come in.

Walking back through the grand entrance hall into the other wing of the house, Anna took Charles' arm and whispered, "I hope I didn't say anything out of turn."

"My dear, you handled yourself admirably. Mother will talk to you at some point but when and what about will remain a mystery until that time. She was on anti-psychotic medication for a period which may explain some things."

Anna processed this news in silence. In her imagination the young Charles went to board to escape his erratic mother and then endured periodic reunions with a distant, cold woman. Christ, was this Thornfield Hall? She hugged Charles' arm a little tighter as he knocked on a door to the right just outside the main hall.

A voice inside made a kind of questioning grunt and Charles let them in. This room with its wood panelling, cheery fire, and rows of books from floor to ceiling was a complete contrast to the pale emptiness of the grand drawing room. From behind an enormous partner's desk rose an older version of Charles with white hair and kindly eyes.

"Well, Charles, this is a very pleasant surprise! To whom do I have the honour?"

"I'm Anna, Anna Mollica," she explained as she took the extended hand. Was this Charles' counterbalance?

"Call me Paul," he said, continuing to shake Anna's hand.

"Has Charles introduced you to the rest of the family?"

"Most of them, I think," she replied.

He chuckled. "Psychologically, it's thought to be better to deliver the bad news first, then each step is generally in a positive direction."

Anna looked quizzically at Charles, and he carefully avoided meeting her gaze.

"Who was the woman I saw on the landing when I came in?" she asked.

"Probably Naomi," he replied.

"Charles' half-sister," said his father. "The result of a liaison I had when Monica was going through a bad patch."

Anna blinked. She hadn't expected such candour from a man she'd only known a few moments. Paul was watching her with the very faintest hint of amusement on his face.

Was this some kind of test? She dipped a toe in the waters.

"Is Naomi visiting?"

"No, she lives here. I took her in when her mother killed herself," Paul explained, still with that same wry expression.

"That's ... a lot," Anna said. And Naomi lived with them? A constant reminder of his father's infidelity. What did that do to Charles' mother? Or to Naomi?

He beamed at her.

"Excellent! I think you have most of the necessary information to navigate Dearborn. Charles can bring you up to speed on his hideous cousins later. I know it's a bit early, but can I offer you a drink or do you want to wait until cocktail hour?"

Anna demurred; it might suit the residents to take the edge off their prickly existence, but she wanted her wits about her.

"Have you sorted a room for your guest?" Paul asked his son.

"I thought the suite would be best," Charles replied.

"Capital idea! Well, I'll see you later, m'dear." He turned and walked away into the library.

Anna looked at Charles, he frowned and waved a hand towards the door.

Out in the corridor again, Anna quickly glanced behind them to make sure there was no one within earshot and then tugged on Charles' arm.

"You grew up here?" she said, incredulously.

"No," he murmured. "I grew up at Pellinghurst. I came back here for what were euphemistically termed holidays."

"Christ, it's a wonder you're still sane!" she hissed.

"I had Stacia and Byron as anchors. We did our best in the circumstances. Now, before I show you to your room, there are some people I need to make aware of your arrival."

Passing through yet another archway, he opened the one of a pair of double doors into the largest kitchen Anna had ever seen.

A vast range occupied most of one wall and a double Belfast sink lay under the enormous windows. In the middle a battered table could have comfortably seated ten.

A kindly looking middle-aged woman was making pastry. She looked up at their entrance.

"Master Charles! Lovely to see you. I didn't know you were coming."

Her eyes took in Anna and gave her an appraising glance up and down.

"This is Mrs Took, Anna. Mrs Took, this is Anna Mollica, my guest for the weekend. And please, don't call me master. Charles is quite sufficient."

Mrs Took's expression didn't change but Anna detected amusement.

"Lovely to meet you, my dear. Now, let me know if there's anything you can't eat or to which you are particularly averse."

"I'm okay with most things. Can I just say that this is the most amazing kitchen I've ever seen!"

Mrs Took looked pleased but before she could say anything else, a door opened and a woman in jeans and sweatshirt bustled in.

Anna reckoned that she was only slightly younger than herself, pretty and slim with wavy strawberry blonde hair tied back in a ponytail.

"Charles!" she said in delighted surprise.

"Excellent!" Charles said, "Anna, this is Miss Finch, one of the assistant housekeepers."

The other woman rolled her startlingly blue eyes. "Do you have to? Judy is just fine, and you know it."

She advanced across the room to shake Anna's hand.

"Welcome to Dearborn, Anna. Let me know if there's anything you need while you're here. Are you staying in the suite?"

Anna liked her immediately. "Yes, I think so."

Dearborn had to be under some kind of glamour. They all looked like film stars.

"I'll let the rest of the staff know you're here."

And with that she was gone again.

Retrieving Anna's bag from the hall they made their way up one arm of the stairs and then down a corridor to a door which by her reckoning was somewhere above the drawing room.

"This isn't your room, but I thought you'd like to see it."

He opened the door on to a large brightly lit room filled with colour, fabric of different hues everywhere, lying on work surfaces, stored in racks in furniture like bookcases. Anna walked inside wondering whose private jewel box this was.

"This was Grandmother's sewing room."

"This is gorgeous!" Anna exclaimed. "Was?"

"She died ten years ago; it's not been used since."

"Are you sure? There's a piece in the throat of the sewing machine."

Charles looked at it curiously. "That is odd."

Anna shook her head.

"Who cleans in here? There should be an inch of dust over everything if it's not been touched for so long."

"Mrs Cane comes in every so often."

"The housekeeper?"

Charles looked pleased.

"Yes. Mrs Cane, Elaine Tomlinson, Judy Finch and Edna Took you've met, take care of the house. Mrs Took also manages the kitchen garden. Perry Mason," he paused and smiled wryly, "yes, really, is head gardener and Mr Forbes takes care of everything else. There are a few others and a pool of people in the nearby villages that we can draw on for functions and the like."

"That's a lot of money, Charles."

"The estate costs about a quarter of a million a year to run."

Anna's eyes grew round. "Heavens! But you don't look especially ..." her voice tailed off.

"Rich?" he smiled.

"Well, yes," she said, slightly embarrassed.

"Actually, we're just about hanging on. The farm brings in some money and there are about a dozen self-contained properties on the estate. Some of the staff get one as part of their remuneration and the others we rent out. And, of course, there's my salary."

"Your salary?"

"Yes, I contribute to the budget. Thankfully I'm very well paid."

He walked to the window and after a moment she followed him.

"Managing the estate is what Father does. It may not be able to continue after Mother goes."

"Mother?" Anna was startled.

"Is Master of Dearborn, she inherited it when a distant cousin died."

Charles looked melancholy. The house had a lot of his family history bound up in it, even if his part of it had been less than happy.

"And you're the heir?" she asked, placing her hand on his arm.

"No."

Anna shook her head, if not Charles as the eldest male child, then ... "Giles?"

"Giles."

"No!" she said incredulously.

Anna prided herself on being a good judge of character and could not imagine the man running the place. Maybe he had hidden talents perhaps, after all she had only met him half an hour ago.