Repercussions Pt. 02

Grady clenched the edge of the table to keep himself from striking Calhoun.

"Shut yer gob, ye drunken Jackeen," Mr. O'Malley muttered.

"Christ man! 'Tis only what any man who be not a Molly would think! I ken she's nae for the likes of us. Never she'll get anything from me but respect in word and deed." Calhoun turned from Grady's and Mr. O'Malley's silent stares to Jasper. "Dinnae moon over her...she's nae for ye. She'll be marrying soon, aye Grady?"

"Aye."

"See, there's the way of it, laddie. We'll find ye a bonnie wagtail to set ye to rights."

Grady stared at his cards, pondering Calhoun's words. 'Twas indeed the truth of it. Could he in good conscience resent the man for speaking the thoughts that ever filled his own mind? Why, nigh two hours ago his lips had been glued to her slit and his finger was up her arse! Was his anger the indignation of offended chivalry or simply possessive jealousy?

*****

The following morning, Grady ran out to the river and back, his constitutional invigorated by thoughts of Chloe. He had hoped to soothe the agitation of his heart by the simple exhaustion of exercise, but in this hope he was disappointed. Now bathed and dressed, he stood in his office, holding the book Chloe had left behind in the laundry chamber yesterday afternoon: The Voyage of the Beagle. The sole item of hers in his possession, he had slept with it upon his bedside table after reading the first chapter. Now he contemplated how to discreetly return it to her without compromising her. Hearing a noise in the hall, he thrust it into a desk drawer.

He commenced the morning work by resuming his search for the missing document in the next box. From the sounds of servants in the great hall, he knew that the family had come down to breakfast. 'Twas not long after that he was summoned into Lord Trimingham's private library.

Picking up his ledger book with a nervous feeling, he opened the door to the adjoining chamber. He must be calm, behave in his usual fashion, and not let his thoughts wander to how he had debauched his benefactor's innocent daughter. Lord Trimingham was seated at his desk with a sheaf of documents before him. Grady bowed. "Your lordship." Glancing up, Trimingham nodded at the chair in front of the desk. "Anything to report from yesterday?"

Sitting, Grady ran a finger under his cravat. He focused upon the book in his lap, flipping through the pages to find yesterday's entries. He apprised Lord Trimingham of the order at the mill and of the broken chimney flue, concluding with his intent to order and install a new one. Trimingham nodded as he tamped tobacco in his pipe bowl. "An exciting adventure, I daresay." Grady swallowed. "Yes, my lord."

Trimingham snapped shut his tobacco box and pulled a large envelope from under the papers upon his desk. "Well this will be a slightly less stimulating task for you Grady." Grady kept his gaze steady. Drawing papers from the envelope, he held them out; Grady leant closer to take them. He glanced through them as his lordship proceeded to describe his meeting in London yesterday with members of his party. They were bringing up a bill in Parliament to regulate hunting upon common lands. "I need you to review these articles and ensure that they conform to proper legal prose, as it were," Trimingham summed up. Grady posed several questions concerning the document, feeling his discomfort ease as they conversed back and forth in their customary manner.

Returning to his own desk, he set to reading the document. For some time he worked upon the editing, his task presently interrupted by Scofield bringing in the morning post. Sorting through the letters, he found among the usual bills a large envelope with an elegant seal. Curious, he opened it first.

It proved to be a response from Mr. Horace Hatheway --- his counterpart for the Duke of Leeds --- regarding the Duke's marriage offer to Lady Chloe. Grady stood motionless staring at the letter, his body suddenly cold. The standard formalities of the introductory paragraph were merely a blur to him. His eyes ran down the list of luxuries promised to her upon the union --- carriages, horses, summer estate, winter mansion, jewels, servants, clothier in attendance --- described in ostentatious detail, down to the upholstery type in each of eight carriages.

His stomach felt hollow as he knocked upon the door to Lord Trimingham's library to give him the letter. Trimingham studied the proposal. At length he leant back in his chair with a glint in his eye. "Not too miserly an offer, eh Grady?" He drew upon his pipe, smiling. "We'll not respond too hastily. 'Twould be a fine match, but he is not the fish for which I'm angling. I had a brandy with the Duke of Bradbury yesterday at my club, and fortuitously he is looking for a suitable bride. Now he can offer all this," he pointed at the letter with his pipe, "but he also has the ear of her majesty. Let us bide our time and see what develops after her presentation."

*****

He had to speak with her. He had to know. Grady paced up and down in his office. Why had she selected him to "kiss" her? Was it simply a matter of comfort with him given their long history --- that she trusted that he would not take advantage of her vulnerable position and violate her? Or did she in any manner return his affections? To his mind, it seemed most ungallant to interrogate a lady's sentiments, but now, after seeing the Duke's proposal, he needed to know. He must tell her of his feelings --- and he would make her his deplorably modest offer.

'Twas in this direction that the true threat to his hopes lay: the various Dukes, the Marquess...her marriage. Although there still sparked in him jealous irritation when he thought of Jasper's and Calhoun's words, he had forced himself to ponder the disturbing situation logically. Calhoun's assessment was the truth: her beauty was such that it would inspire admiration and likely lustful thoughts in nigh every man. This fact did not alter Grady's plight, nor did it discredit his own regard for her. He knew that his love for her was deeper than an infatuation with her corporeal charms, enticing as they were.

Moreover, he had reminded himself, although 'twas Calhoun whom Chloe had seen kissing the dewy rose --- Calhoun, whom she had also known for years, who (true to his words last night) had always treated her with respect, who indeed would have been beyond delighted to oblige her ---'twas himself that she had sought out to indulge her amorous curiosity.

Thus his agitated thoughts continued for some time as he walked back and forth between the windows, gazing out over the veranda and garden at each turn. By and by he heard the deep chimes of the clock in the great hall, heard Lord Trimingham leave his library, and heard the sounds from the dining room. After some time had passed, there were voices in the great hall. He crossed to the hall door, keeping out of the line of sight.

Lord Trimingham was standing outside the dining room door, conversing with the butler Scofield. He could not make out their words, until he heard Scofield say "Yes, my lord." He bowed and Lord Trimingham turned and started upstairs. Grady watched a while longer but did not see Chloe emerge. Either she had already excused herself, or she had not been at luncheon.

Grady waited a few minutes further. Then he was out the door and striding down the hall with his book under his arm, looking into each of the rooms as he passed, but not finding her.

Stepping onto the veranda his eyes swept the garden and lawn in each direction. He saw two under-gardeners at work, kneeling in the beds, but no sign of her. He headed for the rear garden wall, nodding at the gardeners, then passing under the cherry blossom trees. Behind the garden wall he gazed out over the meadow to Cedric's Castle, seeing no one --- but of course it was too far to say with certainty. He tried the laundry courtyard next: the courtyard, oak tree, laundry chamber. Deserted.

Next, he went to the stable, hurrying down the central walkway, greeting Calhoun who was at the far end. Edwin's horse was gone, but Chloe's was still in her stall. As he turned to leave, the bell on the door sounded, and the stable boy Alfred burst in. "Mr. Calhoun! Mr. Woodbyrne!" he shrieked, running towards them. "I've...come from the...gatehouse," he gasped, panting. "The carriage just come through --- Lady Trimingham! Make haste! Make haste!"

All three rushed for the door. The news had spread fast: gardeners, footmen, stable boys, grooms, maids from all directions were running towards the mansion. Grady contemplated the dreadful development as he ran: Lady Trimingham returned! A day early! Damn it all! He had not wanted to think on it for it meant Chloe's imminent departure. As he leapt up the veranda steps, he spied her: Chloe, racing across the lawn from the direction of the conservatory. Confound it! The conservatory! If only he'd looked there first!

In the hall the flustered staff were assembling, straightening their uniforms and caps. As Grady adjusted his cravat, he heard the slam of a veranda door, then Chloe rushed forth from the morning room and crashed into him. He caught her by the arm to prevent her from falling. "My lady, take care." Her frantic eyes met his for the briefest instant before she tore free and raced up the grand stairs behind the assembled servants. He had never seen a girl run so fast --- taking three steps at a time, her braids flying. Suddenly wary of his interest being observed, he returned his gaze to the front.

She was back in time to join Lord Trimingham upon the front steps as the carriage pulled up. From the corner of his eye, he noted that she had not had time to change out of her simple dotted frock, but she had pinned her braids up. Slightly disheveled, cheeks flushed --- she was a vision of loveliness to him. The image rose unbidden in his mind of her writhing upon the ironing table, her innocent body awakened by his caresses, her legs splayed...the sweet cream re-glazing her hymen each time he licked it clean...her virgin orifice ready for love...oh God! He shifted in discomfort gripping his book, unable to suppress the memory of her bottom hole squeezing his finger...how smooth and tight that secret passage was! What pleasure his finger seemed to have given her! What would it be like to fuck her there? Oh Christ...no, not now! He moved his book to hide his sprouting cockstand. A furtive glance down the row assured him that Calhoun was not looking in his direction.

The family came through the front door. Lady Eveline Trimingham had not arrived alone: her sister, the Countess of Wexford, had accompanied her. Lady Trimingham was, as usual, most elegant in attire and deportment --- her sister likewise. The servants bowed and curtsied. Mrs. Scofield consulted Lady Trimingham regarding the bedchamber arrangements. Lady Trimingham acknowledged the staff with a regal air, her cool gaze stopping upon Grady. As he bowed his head again, he saw her eyes shift to Chloe --- the suddenness of the transition causing an anxious twinge in his belly...Christ let it be just his imagination! If she should suspect anything!

Lady Trimingham's displeasure was evident as she regarded her stepdaughter's appearance. She took Chloe by the elbow and the procession was underway: Mrs. Scofield, Lady Trimingham, the Countess, Chloe, the ladies' maids, then the footmen carrying their trunks. Up the stairs they went, Chloe between Lady Trimingham and the Countess, each holding an elbow, for all the world looking like a poor condemned country lass being marched away to her doom.

*****

Grady returned to his work --- what else could he do? He shut the hall door in a fruitless effort to block out the distractions of the activity in the great hall. His mind was in turmoil, and the completion of the edits of the hunting bill proved a taxing labor. Erotic imaginings intermingled with thoughts of desperate gambits to rescue Chloe from her indentured fate. Did she even desire to be rescued? Perhaps she wished to fulfil her so-called duty to her family despite her own preferences. Perhaps she had no particular tender feelings for him. God grant him a chance to speak with her in private!

His next task was a resumption of the search through the box of old documents. Standing next to the desk he pulled out and skimmed paper after paper. Presently a motion outside the window caught his eye. Turning his head, he observed the ladies sitting down to tea upon the veranda. He moved closer to the window and adjusted the shutter so that he could see them without being observed. The tea table was fully turned out with linens, china, a flower vase, and two maids in attendance. An awning had been erected to shield them from the sun. Chloe sat between Lady Trimingham and the Countess, her back towards him.

Chloe, now attired as a proper lady in a fine gown with her hair dressed according to the current fashion, sat stiffly, whilst the other ladies appeared to be making all the conversation. Very little else of note was happening --- the prospect of ladies at tea not generally constituting a source of diversion. Nevertheless, Grady found himself unable to look away.

By and by, he saw that the two older ladies were directing their conversation at Chloe. Lady Trimingham gestured at her, pointing behind her. A maid pulled her chair out as Chloe stood. She turned and walked a few paces towards his window. He could see her face now --- his heart ached at her forlorn expression. How he wanted to take her into his arms...take her into his arms and sit her upon his lap, hold her close and kiss away her troubles.

She turned back to face the ladies. Raising her chin, she proceeded to walk slowly towards them, then stopped...deliberately she spread her skirts wide and sank into an exaggerated curtsey with her head bowed. 'Twas apparent that she had been instructed to demonstrate the infamous court presentation curtsey about which he had recently heard much discussion. Whilst the ladies offered their critique and pressed her to repeat the maneuver, Grady's libidinous thoughts swelled full force at the sight of Chloe's bottom protruding with her bowed posture. In truth, the curtsey offered only a slight protrusion, but he immediately imagined her bending a little more...what a splendid sight 'twould be...her gown and all petticoats raised and her pantalettes pulled down...her bare arse upturned...her little pink cunny and anus on full display from behind. He groaned and squeezed his cock through his trousers.

The third time she sank down, the exercise was interrupted by a grey and white cat bounding onto the veranda and jumping onto her back. He recognized the cat that she had named Max, a descendant of the litter he had helped her move years ago. Her balance abruptly disturbed, Chloe fell forward onto her hands and knees...laughing. When she got back to her feet, she reached up for Max and draped his relaxed body around her neck like a shawl --- holding his front paws over one shoulder and his rear paws over the other.

Lady Trimingham's countenance bore a most annoyed expression as she spoke to Chloe. Chloe returned to her seat and lifted Max from her neck and placed him upon her lap. Her stepmother's complaints appeared unappeased --- Chloe lifted him again and put a napkin between him and her gown...then as the gesticulating persisted, she picked him up and set him upon the ground. Max looked up at her for a moment, then leapt onto the stone balustrade nearest her and lay down, watching the party.

Grady shared Chloe's frustration with her stepmother as he gazed through the window. He had long sensed Lady Trimingham's coolness towards him, more so than seemed rational given his position upon the estate. The estrangement of his childhood friendship with Chloe he also attributed primarily to her efforts. In his mad, imaginary world, what wouldn't he give to simply stride out onto the veranda directly to Chloe, pull her from her chair and sit her upon the table between her ladyship and the Countess. He would kiss her hard as he pulled up her skirts, then lay her back upon the table, spreading her legs and sweeping teacups and scones and flowers to the ground as the ladies shrieked in outrage. He would pull out his stiffstander and in one magnificent thrust, fill her cunny --- triumphantly disregarding Lady Trimingham's horrified screams at his plebeian organ despoiling her sterling bartering treasure. As Chloe's arms and legs wrapped around him, he felt the ladies beating his pumping buttocks with the teapot and sugar tongs...

Grady returned to himself in a tumult of arousal and anger. Disconcerted, he closed the shutters completely and took several deep breaths. He forced his attention back to his work. For nigh an hour he worked without interruption, then Scofield came in to inform him that his presence was requested in the rose parlour. Taking up his book, he proceeded thence. Oh, to be his own man, and not be summoned hither and thither to either be given a task or taken to task!

He discovered the family in the parlour: Lord Trimingham seated in a chair, Lady Trimingham and Chloe upon a divan near the fire --- all looking quite serious indeed. His immediate thought was that Chloe had reported his bawdy transgressions to her parents...his legs felt shaky as he advanced into the room and bowed. Lord Trimingham addressed him first. "Grady, we need to make some arrangements concerning the ladies' journey to London."

His sense of relief was swiftly replaced with a new apprehension as he understood the import of his words. "Yes, my lord." He opened his book and prepared to take notes.

"They will be taking the 9:10 train the morning after next. We will need tickets for Lady Trimingham, the Countess, Lady Chloe, and their maids."

Grady wrote as Trimingham spoke. From the corner of his eye he saw Chloe sitting with her hands in her lap, her face impassive.

"The second item is the clothier's expense. We will need letters of credit for the residual --- do you have those figures?"

"Yes, my lord."

"In addition, we will need funds for a wedding gown..."

His pencil abruptly stopped. Then he resumed writing, endeavoring to maintain a blank expression.

Lady Trimingham looked at him. "That happy event will be upon us sooner than we think. 'Tis best to begin preparations posthaste."

"How much should it be for, my dear?" Trimingham asked.

"Two thousand pounds should commence the project."

Grady gulped as he wrote the figure. Again, he stole a glance at Chloe; she was leaning forward towards the fireplace, prodding the burning logs with a poker.

"Have you all that noted, Grady?"

"Yes, my lord." He thought for a moment, then added: "With your leave, I will go to Sheffield directly to purchase the tickets." His statement had a twofold intent. First, he hoped his display of ready compliance in dispatching Chloe would dispel any suspicions Lady Trimingham might be harboring about Chloe and himself. Second, he wanted to see if his detached air regarding her departure would elicit any reaction from Chloe that would betray her feelings for him.

Lord Trimingham nodded his dismissal. Chloe briefly raised her eyes and said with perfect civility, "Thank you, Mr. Woodbyrne," before returning to poking at the fire.

*****

The ride to Sheffield additionally afforded Grady the opportunity to distance himself from Greystoke Hall --- albeit for a few hours. For those few hours he strove, unsuccessfully, to rearrange his thoughts and regain some sense of control of his destiny. Chloe's reaction had revealed nothing to him. He had tarried in his office and in the stable before setting out, hoping that she might seek him out; she had not. The facts remained unaltered: she was leaving the morning after next. He had only tonight and tomorrow to speak to her.