In Love with Lori Ch. 07 Pt. 01

I still had to ask him, though; I had to hear it from his own lips.

"Does this change things, Davey? Between us, I mean."

"In what way, Angel-May?" he retorted, looking adorably puzzled. "We want babies, lots of babies, maybe we caught one already, what could possibly be wrong in that?"

I grinned happily at that; he'd said it, the thing that made it all real, that made it all OK between us. He was grinning like an idiot, obviously and wholeheartedly taken with the idea that he might have already knocked me up, and to be honest, so was I. I thought that little statement from him needed a reward, he looked like he was expecting one, so yeah, let's do this said my libido, already chiming with newly-pregnant girl hormonal horniness!

"You say the nicest things, Darling Boy!" I whispered, noting with interest his renewed interest, so I let him show me how sorry he was for scaring me like that; very little puts my Davey off his stride when Horny-Head comes visiting, and boy did he show me some moves!

*

Davey took me to dinner that evening, with a special guest I'd asked along: Aunt Sophie. It troubled me that I was probably already pregnant, that we'd gone and put the cart before the horse, and I was unsure how someone as obviously well-bred, formal, and seriously intimidating as I guessed Sophie could be was going to take the news that I was already preggers; would she start thinking I'd done it to trap Davey? His family is old, wealthy, well and widely connected and influential. Supposing they'd had plans for him, and I'd come along and thrown a spanner in the works? I was filled with conflicting emotions about Sophie, looking as she did, but what I needed most from her was approval; right then my apprehension was running at 'high', in exactly the same way I would have been apprehensive about telling Mom I had a bun in the oven.

My head was in a spin over how to deal with Sophie; I knew how close she and Richard had been to Davey's poor daddy, and now that remembered closeness was focusing on Davey, I could see it happening right before my eyes, plus her uncanny resemblance to Mom in so many ways put me at a serious disadvantage as well; talking to her felt just like talking to Mom, and I knew how icy Mom could be when she got mad; supposing Sophie froze me like that as well? Telling her was seriously scary, I don't mind admitting that at all.

As it happened, Sophie was a model of motherly concern, and I was right to trust her; as I felt this, a strange thought struck me, one I couldn't shake; mom had said to me before she passed away that she'd always be with me, one way or another, and it was almost a shock to realize that perhaps this was exactly what she'd meant; perhaps meeting Sophie, and finding so much of Mom in her was no coincidence at all; perhaps unknown forces were at work and all this was meant to be.

I was a shaky mess, my makeup smudged and mussed, so Sophie took me off to the restaurant rest-room so we could repair my make-up, and to have a little private chat. When we got there, a woman was leisurely primping her hair and makeup in the huge mirror, but one look at Sophie's pointed expression and raised eyebrow (weirdly, just like Davey's when he's annoyed but holding it in/puzzled/dumbfounded/lost for words) and she beat it out of there at warp speed. Sophie sat me down, and began dabbing and wiping away my smeared mascara.

"Listen to me, darling girl," she began. "First of all: you're marrying David, not me, so my opinion doesn't matter; in the great maelstrom of scandal this family's managed to whip-up for itself over the centuries, your being preggers without benefit of clergy is not even a ripple. For what it's worth, I think he made exactly the right choice. Second, in this day and age, walking down the aisle pregnant, or even not walking down the aisle at all, are nothing new, and nothing to be ashamed of, and you certainly don't need me to tell you that. Whether or not you and David ever get married, that baby in there will always be my niece or nephew, David will always be my nephew, you will always be our Darling Girl, and the family will have nothing to say about it; if they try, they'll have me to contend with, and they really don't want that! Then, of course, there's Richard; he's already decided that since he's going to be giving you away, he's the de-facto father of the bride, and anyone saying anything about you he doesn't like is going to be walking around with a pronounced limp and their face hanging off the side of their head."

She turned me to the light so she could do my eye-liner neatly.

"Remember this, darling: David adores you, he'd crawl through fire and across broken glass for you, and so will Richard; whatever you do, and whatever transpires, we're all here in your corner. You don't need other people to tell you what's right for you, and if you're a little bit preggers when you walk down the aisle, who cares? It's not my business, it's not even a thing anymore. I'm not going to make a federal case out of it, and neither is Richard, so buck-up, smile, and let's go and have dinner; David had that famished look when we left, just like his father used to get, and I think he's been alone far too long already. Shall we?"

*

The following morning, Davey announced that we were going to see his friend at Brigham & Women's Hospital right here in Boston. He'd arranged for us to pay him a visit so he could examine me and confirm whether or not I actually was pregnant. We made our way there, did all the tests, and three hours later I knew for certain: I was officially 'in the club', as Davey so delicately put it, and this is where it got real. Davey was like a pup with two tails; the idea of me being pregnant seemed to have lit a fire in him; luckily, I knew exactly how to fan it higher...

A morning of teasing and torturing him in the bright Boston sunlight seemed in order. He'd insisted on taking an extended stroll around Old Town, so I was going to make him pay, because I'd been in the mood for a little contact sport and he'd taken my edge off. I have to admit, though, trailing him around town, sitting and casually throwing my hair around, crossing and uncrossing my legs as we chatted and sipped coffee, all were having a visible effect on him, and serve him right, too.

Eventually, I relented; teasing him was revving my motor, too, and I had an outfit in my box of tricks guaranteed to pop his thermometer, so we hustled back to the hotel. Poor Davey was in agony; he's a horny beast at the best of times, but that thing was reaching new heights; even the receptionist raised an eyebrow as we hurried past the desk, though Davey had tried to disguise it with a hurriedly purchased newspaper...

When we got to our suite, I made poor Davey sweat in the ante-room while I hurried into my latest weapon in the seduction game we were playing. Sophie had laughed delightedly when she saw it, her only comment being that if they'd had things like that thirty years earlier life would have been completely different for poor Uncle Richard!

When I called Davey in, his eyes popped out of his head; I had on an opaque, one-piece wet-look body-stocking, with built-in teetering stiletto heels; getting into the skin-tight, stretchy thing had been easy enough, the material molding to me like a second skin, while all the seams sealed permanently with my body heat; if Davey wanted to get me out of that thing, he'd have to tear it off of me, which was kind of the idea...

And yes, he did tear it off me, in-between bouts of torturing my pussy with his talented mouth, eating my ass until I was in a screaming frenzy, and fucking me like a man possessed, reaming out my pussy and jamming his fat cock deep into my ass just the way I liked it; Davey fucking my ass was more than just playtime, though; in my mind, this was the thing that connected us most closely together, it was our special thing, and making love without going there left me feeling curiously flat, like a banana-boat sundae with no cherry on the top; nice, delicious, a sweet treat, and a feast for the senses, but no ultimate payoff, that last taste missing. So I took him there, a treat for him, and the seal on the deal for me; I'm guessing he liked it...

*

The Skeleton Waltz

Lunch the following day included Sophie, of course; Davey and I had decided to make tracks back to Bar Harbor and get the house picked-up, packed-up, and listed with a realtor; he'd already arranged with his friend Georgie to borrow his place in somewhere called 'Epsom' in the English county of Surrey while we house-hunted; I'd been intrigued as to whether we could possibly camp-out at the family home I'd heard so much about, but he'd flatly refused to even consider it; even the mere mention of it had made him go pale, but he perked-up when Sophie announced she was coming back to Bar Harbor with us to witness our quickie wedding, and help me sort through Mom and Daddy's things. I know I'd asked Uncle Richard to give me away, but that was coming later; he knew this was just the first step as far as our getting married went, the legal bit, as it were, that allowed me to travel to England as Davey's wife, and that the real family wedding that would mean so much to Davey and everyone else was still to come.

We beat it post-haste back to Maine, where Davey married me in court, with Sophie witnessing for us. It was just a quickie wedding, I know that, something we'd agreed would be the easiest way to formalize my immigration status, but still, that moment when Davey gazed into my eyes, when he said the words I'd waited so long to hear, when he slipped that simple, beautiful gold band on my finger, and when he kissed me with all the love I felt in his heart for me, that will be the wedding I'll always remember.

Whatever came after, no matter how fancy, this was the moment my heart would cherish forevermore, the moment it all finally, irrevocably, stopped being a dream and became the reality we'd both wanted so much. Whatever we did with the rest of the family, in my heart I was finally, truly my Davey's wife; if we never went through with the wedding we'd planned for in England, it wouldn't matter, because here, right now, this was my wedding day.

That glow lasted all the way through to the next day, and then the shit hit the fan...

Davey had gone into what passed for downtown to arrange for the realtor to come and do whatever it is they do when they list a property, and Sophie and I set to work packing the things I couldn't bear to leave behind, even temporarily; mostly mementoes of Mom and Daddy, framed photographs, trinkets and such, but things I couldn't do without. I'd gone to make us a coffee while Sophie rummaged and sorted through various bits and pieces, but when I came back with the coffee, my heart leaped into my mouth, then dropped into my boots at what I saw. Sophie had a photo album open on her knees, her expression unreadable as she stared at the pictures. Before she even said anything, I already knew exactly which pictures she'd found. She looked up at me, her face completely blank and expressionless.

"Loretta, would you please explain something to me?" she asked, her voice carefully neutral. I gulped and nodded, unable to speak for the knot in my throat.

"Would you kindly explain to me who these people are? I recognize David, even as a boy he was so distinctive, and a woman who is obviously his mother, David's father's tastes obviously remained with him, she looks enough like me to be my sister, and a man I can only assume is his stepfather, but why are you in this photograph, at such an early age, too, and why do you look so much like David's mother? I want the truth, please, now."

I couldn't look at her, looking so much like Mom as she did, and hedge, fib, or prevaricate; now was the time to tell it all, and I spilled my guts like a prison-yard stool-pigeon. I told her everything, even my original plan to seduce Davey and catch his baby at the very least, so that when he left, I'd at least have something of him in my life. Her expression changed as I spilled it all, going from frosty and neutral to wondering, and, finally, compassionate and concerned.

I finally wound-down, and braced for the blast of anger, outrage, or worse, contempt, for trapping David in something he'd had no intention of ever pursuing when he'd come back from England, and for giving him no honorable choice except to continue with this for the sake of the child, a child he'd never intended to have with me in the first place.

Sophie sipped her coffee, never taking her eyes off me for a second.

"Thank you for telling me the truth, Loretta. This puts a slightly different complexion on things, but have no fear, all is not lost. I shall have to consider what we need to do next. Obviously, the fact you and David are half-siblings is an issue; how big an issue it is, and how best we can counter it remains to be seen. For the moment, I suggest we remain positive; I've seen the way David looks at you, and the way he's gone about this whole thing speaks to me of how committed he is to making this work, which is a very good sign indeed. In all the ways that count, he truly is his father's son, but then, I would have expected no less from him. He should be back soon. Depending on how he chooses to answer a couple of questions I have, I think I see a possible way for all of this to go away. We shall see how truthful David chooses to be, so fingers crossed!"

When Davey came breezing in, obviously elated that we were almost ready to leave, the frigid atmosphere in the room must have hit him, because he stopped short mid-sentence, caught by Sophie's icy expression. When she began speaking, he actually paled as all the blood drained from his face.

"David, is there something you want to tell me? About you and Loretta, I mean?"

Poor Davey looked like a deer caught in the headlights; he looked at me in mute appeal, but I'd already felt just the mild edge of Sophie's tongue, I wasn't going risk going back for more...

Sophie cocked that scary eyebrow at him, and whatever he was stuttering and mumbling about died unsaid.

"David, I found, quite by accident, I assure you, a photograph album, pictures of you and your parents. I browsed through it, quite innocently, looking at pictures of you, your poor dear father, and your mother at Denham Hall, all perfectly ordinary. Upon browsing further, and much to my surprise, I find a picture of your mother, with, I assume, her new husband, you, and a little girl; a little girl who looks exactly like Loretta, exactly like your mother. My question to you is: How exactly did you meet Loretta, and what is her actual relationship to you?"

Davey gulped, going a paler shade of green, then his jaw muscles bunched, something he does when he's going to tell the truth no matter how much trouble he gets into over it, and squared his shoulders, his head up as he looked her directly in the eye.

"Aunt Sophie, Lori is my half-sister. I know what we're doing is wrong, but I love her; she and I are meant to be together..."

Sophie nodded slowly, looking at him, then me, then back at him, her eyes sweeping him like twin laser-beams.

"Yes, I daresay. When were you planning on telling me of this...aspect of your relationship, pray tell?"

Davey paled at her tone; right then you could have used her voice to saw granite, every syllable diamond-edged and cold enough to freeze ice; if it had been me on the receiving end of that voice I'd have headed for the tall timber, but Davey took a deep breath, and told her what I hoped he would; the complete, unvarnished truth, his hands clenched so tight his knuckles showed white, but his voice clear and honest, with no trace of the tension he must have been feeling at admitting all this stuff to his aunt.

"Aunt Sophie, I was hoping it would never come up. Lori and I have different fathers, we're only related through Mother, and we're from different countries..." he trailed off as Sophie gazed unwaveringly at him for another few seconds, before relaxing, that stern expression and unwavering gaze relaxing slightly.

"If you had given me any other answer, David, I would have given you a ringing slap for lying to me. Never do that again, dear; I could always tell when your father was trying to slip one past me, and I can do it with you as well!"

She suddenly relaxed, her sternness gone, replaced by a motherly concern.

"David, you should have told me instead of trying to deceive me. How do you know I wouldn't have just kept my mouth shut forever? You must learn to trust in your family a little, Richard and I, I mean, and the boys, not that bunch of dried-up, miserable old harpies Richard spends so much time and effort avoiding!"

I let out a huge sigh of relief; of all the ways this could have gone, she'd taken the best route, and that stiff apprehension I'd been feeling drained away. Sophie crossed over to stroke my cheek, smiling reassuringly, dissipating the worry that she'd decide she wanted nothing to do with the pair of us for what we'd done; losing her just when I'd found her was my biggest fear right then.

Sophie smiled gently at me, her hand soft and warm against my cheek, cupping my chin, and smoothing my hair.

"This makes no difference to me, dear; in the grand scheme of things it's barely a hiccup, but I just wish you'd told me sooner. If I were you, I would find somewhere safe, really safe, somewhere the rest of the family have absolutely no access to, and keep all these photographs away, safe and sound. Richard won't be told, unless you choose to tell him, but, to be honest, I doubt he'd care; he's absolutely bewitched by you and wouldn't hear a word said against you; I really do think he's starting to believe he's your father, he's certainly acting like it!"

"Besides," she smiled, "it's not like this hasn't happened before, you know. If we're going to let skeletons out of the closet, they may as well all dance together! I'm going to tell you another deep, dark family secret; it might just illuminate your situation a little better. David, dear, Loretta once told me how you were amazed at Richard's resemblance to your grandfather; that is no coincidence. Your grandfather had a younger sister, Louisa, Richard's mother, and she was an absolute corker when she was young, petite, green-eyed and golden-haired, a famously beautiful young woman. When she married Richard's father, she was two months pregnant."

Davey looked puzzled at this apparent non-sequitur, then his eyes widened as something became clear.

"Are you telling me...?" he began, and Sophie nodded.

"Louisa was in love with your grandfather, her older brother, and he was in love with her. Tragic, I know. Anyway, she became pregnant. He couldn't marry her, of course, and so he arranged her marriage to Richard's supposed father, to prevent her name being dragged through the mud. I understand quite a lot of money changed hands, most of which got drunk by that dreadful man. The upshot is, Richard is truly your uncle, your father's half-brother, not his cousin, although I think they both somehow knew or suspected; they were so alike in so many ways, more so than cousins should be, more like brothers would be."

"That's why your grandfather paid for Richard's education, and made sure David remained so close to him, close to his older brother. It must have been terrible for him, terrible and heartbreaking, to see his oldest son so often, to look at his face and see his own face there, and never be able to acknowledge him. But he gave Richard a good start in life, for which I am profoundly grateful. So you see, I do understand. I'm not such a judgemental old dragon, now, am I?"

Davey was grinning like a Cheshire cat as all this unfolded.