‘They frequently do. Look, young woman, it really is time you were asleep, and you’ve got to get up before me. Oh, hell! I should have asked Wilkins to give me a discreet knock.’
I said sleepily, ‘You lords are feeble – can ye no wake yourself up when ye want? Anyway, I can, so I’ll set myself for a quarter past seven.’
‘Make it a bit earlier – that’ll give us time to say a proper goodbye.’
‘Alright.’ I told myself, a quarter to seven, a quarter to sev— , a quarter to- I was asleep.
Chapter Thirty Four
I woke, and it was still night time. He was asleep beside me; I could hear his steady breathing. I lay there, enjoying the novel sensation of sharing a bed with him – the warmth of his body, his subtle male scent. It was so nice lying there with him. And it would be even nicer if he were awake.
I gave him a gentle nudge, followed by a more forceful one. ‘Are ye awake?’
He groaned, ‘No.’ Then, ‘It’s not time to get up already, is it?”
‘No – it’s only about three, or so.’
‘Then why – ?’
‘I woke up, and I thought—’ I nestled up to him in the dark, putting my arms around him, nuzzling his neck.
Turning over on to his back he murmured, ‘You thought a spot of middle-of-the-night love-making might be rather pleasant?’
‘Yes.’ No ‘Mms’ this time. I repeated firmly, ‘Yes.’ And gently teased his ear with my tongue.
‘Oh God,’ he said softly. His hand slid down to my behind and found my towel. ‘But there’s no arguing with this, is there? You feel very bulky.’
I whispered, ‘I put two on – I didna want tae make a mess o’ your sheets.’
His hand came back up to my waist, and drew me close to his side. ‘So, what exactly did you have in mind when you woke me up?’
‘I wanted to kiss you again.’
‘Ah.’ He gently brushed my cheek with his bristly chin before saying, ‘That’s very sweet of you, puss.’
‘So may I kiss you?’ He moved away. Oh no, I should have used ‘can’ – surely he hadn’t noticed? But when he spoke it was not to pass comment on my grammar. ‘The problem is, puss cat, that your kisses are like fine old brandy – extremely potent.’
‘You mean they go to your head?’
He nipped my behind. ‘It’s not my head that’s the problem. Look, suppose you kiss me with your mouth closed – just a kiss, eh?’
‘You mean, not a proper kiss?’
He chuckled. ‘That’s what you call your usual style, is it – a proper kiss? I’d call it a decidedly improper one, myself!’ I giggled. ‘So how about that, puss? Old-fashioned kisses, only on the face – and we’ve got to keep our hands clasped behind our backs – our own backs. That shouldn’t cause too many problems.’
It had caused one already, for me – I didn’t know how to do it. I said, ‘You’ll have tae shew me how it’s done.’
He neighed, softly. ‘You are a little tease sometimes, Miss Eve Gunn. Alright, then, I’ll bat first. Lie back on the pillow – and don’t move!’
He heaved himself up on to his knees, put his hands behind his back, and began to kiss me – hair, forehead, ‘Close your eyes’, eyelids, nose, both cheeks, chin – and then, full on the lips – twice. He lifted his head up again. ‘Was that a sufficiently clear demonstration?’ He sounded amused.
‘Aye, verra clear. Ye lie down now, then.’
Positioning myself as he had done, I began the same sequence. But I didn’t want to do it exactly the same – it would be over too quickly. So I lingered over each kiss, brushing him gently with my mouth. ‘Be a butterfly, Eve.’ I gave little quivering movements with my lips before landing fully on his skin and pretending to open them in the sun. But I played fair – when finally I reached his mouth I didn’t open mine, I just let it rest there, with only the gentlest of movements as his breathing became heavier and heavier – and then at last he opened his mouth and we were able to kiss fully and properly.
After I drew back I whispered, ‘That was you, not me.’
‘Yes, I confess it. You’re well-named, Eve – you’re certainly practised in the art of temptation!’
I retorted indignantly, ‘All I did was give you “just a kiss”.’
‘There’s no “just”, where you’re concerned!’ He chuckled. ‘But I’m not complaining. In fact, what I like about you, Eve Gunn, is that you make me surprised at myself. I wouldn’t have thought at my age I would have—’ He broke off, smiled and said, ‘You know, this whole night has been quite delightful – I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. But now we really must go back to sleep.’ As if on cue, I yawned. ‘There, what did I tell you? We hornpipe dancers need our rest.’ He rolled over with his back to me. Nestling up to him, I let sleep claim me once more. When I woke up again it was morning.
I bent over him; his eyes were still closed. I kissed his bristly cheek – all of a sudden he flung himself round and grabbed me. Just a kiss. Then he jumped out of bed. ‘If I’m going to enjoy this I’ll have to run along the corridor first.’ When he came back he picked up his watch, ‘Your timing is impeccable. Right, you’d better not risk running along the corridor – use the chamber if you need it.’
‘I’m not using that – I’d only have tae empty it later. An’ I dinna need it.’
‘Right, let’s just snuggle down for a few minutes, shall we?’ He climbed back into bed, pulled the covers round the two of us and drew me to him. ‘Now, you can give me a big, proper hug, and—’
I finished for him, ‘A big, proper, kiss!’ So I did.
Afterwards, as I lay in his arms, I traced the line of his nose again, lingering over that bump. ‘Do you still fall off when you’re steeple chasing?’
‘Everybody falls off sometimes.’ Then he said more quietly, ‘But actually, I don’t chase steeples any more – I make do with hunting, now. I gave the other up when my mother died. I’d lost my father some years before, and as my brother and sister were still quite young I felt it was hardly fair to risk my own neck competing over the jumps.’
‘How old are they, then – ye’re brother and sister?’
‘My brother is seventeen, and my sister nineteen – but she’s left home now – she got married in the spring and has gone out to India with her husband.’
India! I asked quickly, ‘Whereabouts?’
‘A place called Meerut – my brother-in-law’s in a cavalry regiment there.’
And this agonising longing gripped me. I huddled up closer to him. He patted my behind. ‘She made me promise to go and visit her next year – I’m looking forward to it.’ His hand was very firm on my back. ‘But we haven’t got time to waste chatting, have we?’
He bent over, and sort of took possession of my mouth – I don’t know how else to describe it. It was – rather frightening, really. And I was quite definitely relieved when at last he withdrew his thrusting tongue from my mouth. ‘You’re quite a girl, aren’t you, Eve? You enjoy it as much as I do. Shame about—’ His hand was squeezing my behind, hard. I didn’t like that, much, either – but it would hardly have been fair to tell him. After all, I had enjoyed the rest of the night. A lot.
‘Now look, there’s something else I ought to say to you.’ His voice became peremptory. ‘You’re still young, and inclined to be more – daring – shall we say, than many girls in your position. So I want to give you a word of advice – don’t take any silly risks, will you?’
He must have seen me climbing up the side of the house. I countered, ‘I wudna say it’s risky.’
‘There’s always a risk.’
Just what Apa used to say. ‘I suppose so, but – I am careful.’
‘You rely on the Biblical method, I suppose.’ I was puzzled – who climbed in the Bible? He went on, ‘I wouldn’t chance it myself.’ What did he know about climbing? I retorted, ‘It’s up tae me what I do, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is.’ His voice hardened. ‘If you
choose to break the rules, then you’ll have to be prepared to risk the consequences.’
What he’d said was fair enough – but I didn’t much like the tone of voice he’d said it in. Turning away from him I jumped out of bed and went over to the chair. ‘I’ll have tae get maself dressed now.’ I picked up my drawers – and he was sitting up in bed – just watching. And now, in the morning light, things seemed – very different. So I told him, ‘Maybe I’d better away back tae ma room.’
‘Don’t be silly – your original plan was the best one.’
‘But—’
‘Oh – yes, of course. Right, I’ll shut my eyes for three seconds – that’ll give you time to get your drawers on.’
Frantically I scrambled into them and hitched on my suspender belt. I hesitated, then thought, don’t be stupid Eve – he’s seen your breasts already, so I pulled off my nightdress.
His eyes were open again by now. ‘Halfway decent, are you? Which, I suppose, is the most we can hope for.’ He sounded – almost contemptuous. I snatched up my stockings. ‘Bring them over here.’ He sprang out on to the mat and ordered,
‘Sit down on the edge of the bed, I’ll put them on for you.’ Plucking my stockings out of my hand he deftly rolled them down to the toe and dropped to his knees in front of me. ‘Put your foot in there.’ He eased my stocking efficiently over my ankle – and then, using both hands, he unrolled it all the way up my leg – very, very slowly. When at last he reached the top I told him, ‘I can do up ma own suspenders.’
‘There’s no need.’ He rested one hand on my thigh while going in search of my suspender with the other. When he finally he found it, he very slowly fastened it up. His fingers crept up under my drawers and over my bare hip, to find the other. ‘Here it is. Right, that’s one stocking in place.’ As he reached to pick up the second stocking I snatched it away from him. ‘Nae time for that, I’ll dae it maself.’
He shrugged, but still knelt in front of me, watching as I quickly pulled it on. His eyes narrowed, then he commented, ‘That’s a very shapely pair of legs you’ve got there, young woman – equal to any of the girls in the chorus at the Frivolity Theatre.’ His hand reached out, sliding down my calf, ‘In fact, rather better than most of them, I would judge.’ I suppose I should have felt flattered – but I didn’t.
I sprang up and said to Horseface – who wasn’t quite Horseface any more – ‘I’ll put ma camisole on.’
‘Not yet.’ His hand came down on my shoulder, gripping hard. He’d moved very quickly for such a big man, and now he seemed to loom over me. ‘I want a last look at you.’
‘But—’
‘You owe me that, young woman – I’ve still got the marks of your teeth on my chest.’
He had, too. So I stood there, letting him look with his eyes – and his hands. He wasn’t seeing or touching anything he hadn’t seen or touched last night, but now, in the morning – the red tide of blood flooded up into my chest. Noticing, he said, ‘Isn’t it a bit late for coyness?’
I couldn’t help it – my hands flew up to cover my breasts. There was silence. Then he said, ‘Go and put your camisole on.’ And his voice sounded quite different now. As if he were – so tired.
He was back in bed again, sitting up, by the time I was fully clothed. I reached up to my hair – and exclaimed in distress, ‘I’ve forgotten ma comb!’
‘Use mine – it’s over on the dressing chest.’ I rushed across, found it, and began hauling away at my hair. He called, ‘You’ll have it all out by the roots if you carry on like that! Fetch my brush and come over here – I’ll see to it for you.’
I sat down with my back to him and he lifted the mass of my hair over my shoulders and started brushing it with long, soothing strokes. I began to calm down. Neither of us spoke until he was finally satisfied. ‘There, that’s better. Hand me the comb, now, and I’ll finish it off.’
As he carefully disentangled the remaining knots I told him, ‘Ye’re making a good job o’ this.’
‘I’ve had plenty of practice – grooming young fillies of the four-footed variety.’
I was surprised. ‘Have ye no grooms tae look after them for ye?’
‘Yes, indeed – but if a fellow wants to make a good relationship with a horse, he’s got to do more than merely ride it.’ And now he sounded like Horseface again. Parting my hair into two bundles he put one over each of my shoulders. ‘There, you can plait them now.’
I did, quickly. Once I’d finished the first I took the tape out of my pocket and bit it in two. He laughed. When the second was securely tied he said, ‘It’s surprising what a difference a pair of plaits makes – you look much younger than your true age – with those swinging loose.’ My hairpins were out of my pocket and into my head in double quick time. Then I sprang up.
He pulled me gently down again, and caressed the nape of my neck. ‘Let me just kiss the gold dust on that lovely neck of yours.’ Soft, gentle kisses. ‘Now, one last kiss – a proper kiss.’ His hands began to guide me round, but I’d already turned into his arms, my face lifted up to his, my lips parted ready for him. I luxuriated in that warm, satisfying intimacy once more.
‘That was lovely, puss cat. I’m sorry if I’ve been a bit grumpy with you this morning.’ He gave a small shrug. ‘You are as you are – and I of all men, shouldn’t complain.’ There was a brief pause before he went on, ‘Look, I generally stay a few days with my cousin when they’re at Richmond over the Christmas holiday, so perhaps we might do this again? With a few crucial variations – if I’m lucky and the moon smiles on me then!’ He neighed.
I grinned back. It would be nice kissing in the moonlight – though we’d managed alright in the dark. I assured him, ‘I’d like that fine.’
One hand lingered on my breast. ‘So would I Eve – enormously. Though I must confess that, as far as young fillies of the two-legged variety are concerned, my policy is never to look too far ahead, but rather – to take things as they come.’ ‘Live for the day, ye mean?’
‘Exactly! Or rather, for the night.’ Another soft neigh, another gentle, intimate caress. ‘So, if that suits you, too, then I’ll tip you the wink at Richmond, and—’ He bent over me again and I opened my mouth for him at once.
‘Mmm.’ Then, ‘You know, I really am looking forward to Richmond,’ he gently flicked my nose with one hand while drawing me closer with the other. ‘And I’m looking forward to seeing those freckles of yours again – all of them.’
I asked, trying to be off-hand but not really succeeding, ‘You really do like freckles, then?’
His reassurance was warm and convincing. ‘Yes, definitely’ – and was backed up by an equally warm and convincing caress of my hip. It was curious, only a little while before I’d minded him stroking me there – but now it just seemed completely natural. Then he shook his head, saying, ‘It’s no use, you really will have to go.’ But as he drew his hand out from under my skirt he commanded,
‘Give me a kiss – just a kiss, this time. Mmm. That was lovely.’ And it was.
He stood up and began to lead me to the door. Halfway there I stopped. ‘Now you’ve got to give me something.’
His reply was sharp. ‘What’s that?’
But two could play at giving orders, so I told him firmly, ‘You’ve got to give me a kiss, now.’
His lips curved in a smile. ‘Certainly, Eve Gunn. What type would you like?’
‘One of each.’
In practice I got three. He announced them in turn ‘One,’ a proper kiss. ‘Two,’ a much longer improper kiss. ‘And now for number three.’ He held me close with his left hand while slipping his right one back under my skirt. I felt the strong pressure of his fingers on the bare skin of my thighs as he kissed me a third time – a quick, hard, and very firm kiss on the lips.
Another new experience. I asked him, ‘What d’ye call that sort o’kiss, then?’
‘That, Eve Gunn, is the male kiss of possession. I’m not technically entitled to clai
m it yet, but I have a strong feeling that before very long I shall be – so you can have it on account for now. Does that satisfy you?’
‘Aye – thank ye.’
He laughed. Then, as he reached for his dressing gown down from the hook beind the door and began to pull it on he added briskly, ‘I’ll leave something with the butler for you.’
I was blank for a moment, then, ‘Oh, a tip, you mean?’
‘Naturally. It’ll be in an envelope – be careful not to open it when the other girls are around, since yours will be rather more than theirs.’
‘Oh – thank ye.’
He put his finger to my lips in warning, before very quietly turning the door handle, and easing the door open a fraction. He listened a moment, then put his head boldly round the frame for a quick survey. He listened again to detect any about-to-be-opened door, and when he was satisfied there weren’t any he gave me a quick nod. In a flash I was out, up the stairs and safely on my own corridor.
Chapter Thirty Five
‘For Miss Eve Gunn – Singer and Hornpipe Dancer’ was written in a bold hand across the envelope. ‘This is for you,’ Mr Taylor said with a smile. ‘And here are the tips from the other gentlemen.’ A handful of silver coins. ‘Put them away somewhere safe.’
I shot up to my room and opened the envelope – £15 in crisp new bank notes. £15! More than half a year’s wages! And all the other gentlemen had coughed up half-a-crown apiece – except for Dr Travers, who hadn’t left yet. Gosh! But £15 – double, treble, gosh! There was something else in the envelope – his card. Engraved in the centre was his name, with his London and Wiltshire addresses, one in each lower corner, while across the top he’d scrawled, ‘With thanks for a most pleasant evening.’ I found my carved Bible box, tumbled all my tips into it, and ran back downstairs.
Although I missed Horseface, I have to admit that I spent the next two days hanging around trying to catch a glimpse of Dr Travers. I managed three glimpses and two smiles – one of the glimpses was only a back view, but he had a nice slim back – then the next time he sought me out was to give me his half-crown in person. He thanked me for looking after his room so well, hoped I would continue to work hard, ‘But—’