Good Manors Read online

  “I can’t pretend to like someone I don’t, Mum.”

  She had sighed and shaken her head. Her years had lain on her and she’d looked tired.

  “You’ll be amazed what you can do when you have to,” she’d said. “After all, I married your father, didn’t I?”

  And that had been her trump card. I had deigned to make a date with the young girl in question based solely on my mother’s desire for me to. It hadn’t ended well.

  I had to face my life on my own now. Mum was gone and I had to make my own decisions. I tied up my black tie and pulled it tight. I’d made up my mind. I was going to have India Grace and mark her as mine. Even if it only happened the once, I was going to make her mine. I needed to feel her against me, flesh to flesh. I wouldn’t be able to settle until I had. I wouldn’t be able to continue without trying.

  She was probably going to out and out refuse me but since she was leaving the hall the next day and very unlikely to come back, I wasn’t going to lose much more than a bit of face. Mum couldn’t control me any longer. I had to make my own decisions and take the consequences. I only hoped they’d be good ones.

  I got everything ready for what I hoped would be a date and a successful one at that, then rushed along to the staffroom to wait for India.

  She kept me waiting for thirty minutes.

  “Sorry I’m late,” she purred on entering the room. “It takes a rather a while for me to get pretty.”

  “Wow.” I was close to speechless. She was naturally gorgeous and didn’t need anything to enhance that but she wore the most striking dress in a scarlet velvet that hugged her curves and showed off her pale flesh at bosom and thigh. “Just wow.” I shook my head.

  What am I doing?

  She looked like the cat who’d got the cream. She stood defiantly, like she was challenging me to a duel. I was at once petrified and highly turned on. This woman wasn’t going to roll over and surrender.

  Pearls dangled from her ears and surrounded her neck. I was transfixed as she ran a finger across the collar of white beads at her throat, making me think of other white, creamy droplets as she showed off the scarlet of her nails.

  “We’re not eating in here tonight.” I smiled. “I thought we’d really push the boat out as it’s your last night here.”

  “Lead the way, then.” She almost sounded disinterested but the glint in her eye gave her away.

  “I only asked you to wear a pretty dress, India, not one that was prone to give me a heart attack.”

  “I like to go beyond a man’s expectations.” She winked.

  “Oh, you certainly did that.”

  I led her down the corridor, her little heels click, click, clicking all the way to the dining room.

  She gasped when we entered and it was my turn to smirk. I’d set up a smaller table by the fireplace and put candles on a bright white tablecloth then I’d pulled up two of our most opulent chairs. The upholstery matched her dress. The logs crackled in the grate and set a romantic glow around the room. I’d lit the candelabras along the huge state table but that was the only light, and it flickered and highlighted the polished silver and the beautifully detailed gold floral pattern on the dark red flocked wallpaper.

  “Well, they didn’t have electric lights back in the day, so I thought we’d keep things authentic.” I captured her cold fingers and led her over to the table. I pulled back a chair and helped her sit. “Champagne?”

  “Yes, please,” she replied.

  I walked over to the side table and retrieved a bottle from the ice bucket then deftly popped the cork.

  “It’s beautiful in here.” She spoke when the pop of the cork and its impressive echo around the room came to a stop.

  “This was the room that needed the most restoration. I’m very proud of it. It’s barely ever used, though, which is a shame, but then when you know how much the flooring cost you do tend to worry about crumbs.”

  “Oh, thanks for that. I’m definitely not going to be able to eat anything now.”

  “Don’t worry.” I laughed. “We do own a vacuum.”

  I carried over the two champagne flutes, passed one to her then offered mine forward.

  “A toast.” I looked deep into her eyes. “Good Manors.” I lifted my glass and tipped it toward her.

  “Good Manors,” she echoed and touched her flute to mine.

  I watched as she took a sip, the bubbles licking her ruby red lips. I didn’t know how long I stared at her but she eventually dropped her gaze and I shook myself out of the stupor.

  “Food, that’s what we need next.” I coughed and walked back over to the side table. “I know we’re in a very traditional space but I thought something meze inspired would be good. I don’t want to spend half the night in the kitchen.” I picked up the silver tray and carried it back to her. I popped little bowls on the table, filled with olives and mini mozzarella, roasted peppers and sun blush tomatoes, then followed them with plates of cured meats.

  “Wow, this is a spread.” She gasped.

  “Well, I wasn’t sure what you liked so I got a bit carried away. There’s another load yet, hold on.”

  I took the tray back with me and headed toward the hot box. I was impressed by how warm it had kept the food. I’d borrowed it from the caterer we used for weddings. Well, they’d left it after the last event so I was fairly certain they’d not mind. I’d made many of the dishes for the first time from recipes I’d found online, things like patas bravas and tortilla, and mixed them with my own favorite, paella. I’d never traveled outside the UK but I did enjoy trying foods from exotic locations. It was a way of traveling without leaving the hall.

  “Help yourself”—I gestured toward the food then sat down—“there’s plenty to go round.”

  “I don’t know where to start.” She laughed. “It all looks so good. Thanks, Xander.”

  “You’re welcome, but you’ve not tried anything yet!”

  “It smells wonderful, though, and you didn’t poison me last night.” She giggled.

  “No, that’s true.” I nodded. “Though I have heard my kisses are deadly.”

  “Well, I’m still here.” She fluttered her lashes and looked down at the end of her fork.

  I loved the pink suffusion on her cheeks. Making her blush was fun. I wondered how good her butt cheeks would look in the same shade of pink and had to shift in my seat as my cock leaped in the confines of my trousers.

  “So you are. Maybe I didn’t kiss you hard enough,” I teased.

  “I’m not sure if I’m excited or scared. It seems you want to kill me, Xander.”

  “No, my kiss might slay you but there’s a secret potion I know will revive you if that happens.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really.” I nodded. I think the champagne bubbles had gone straight to my head, or maybe my decision to go for it was making me so brazen.

  “Well, in that case then I won’t worry anymore.”

  “Good.”

  I picked things from plates and bowls but didn’t pay any attention to what I was grabbing. Food was really the last thing on my mind. I might have been brave, but I wasn’t quite ready to sweep her off her feet and fuck her then and there. I had to work up to that. Or at least I hoped she’d let me work up to that.

  “Have you managed to write your article then?” I asked. We had a whole meal to get through. A little inane conversation would stop me coming in my pants before I even got to kiss her, I hoped.

  “I’ve got my notes done now. It’ll need tweaking and it might change depending on the images I get in the morning but yeah, it’s mostly complete.”

  “I admire your way with words, India. I wasn’t very good at school. Well, Mum homeschooled me mostly. We concentrated on bookkeeping and business studies. I hated reading and writing even back then.”

  “I always had my nose in a book when I was a kid, still love to read when I can. I think my love of words has come from that.”

  “I had so much to
see and do here I didn’t bother with books. I was in with the livestock from being five. I saw a lamb being born about that time but my mum didn’t like it when I told her the details so I wasn’t allowed to go near the livestock much from then on. But I’d help in the fields and with the machinery. I say help, I probably just got in the way.”

  “Aw, seems a little sad that you are boxed up in your office these days.”

  “Well, I still get out as much as possible, but it’s just the luck of the draw. I’m the lord of the manor so I have to run it. Well, correction. I’m a poor lord of the manor so I can’t afford to employ anyone else to run it for me.”

  “An important distinction.” She nodded. “I admire your determination, you know.”

  “I’m not sure if it’s determination or pure madness.” I prodded at an olive on my plate and lifted it to my lips. I wasn’t really hungry and the savory fruity smell that normally piqued my appetite definitely did quite the opposite.

  “Whatever it is, I admire it.” India had her hair up in an intricate bun but one strand of jet black hair with its neon bright tip had come loose at the front. She wrapped it around her finger and tucked it behind her ear. “You’ve faced many challenges and you keep on going. I know that’s not easy.” Her face dropped, her eyes had lost their sparkle. I knew she was talking from experience.

  I reached across the table and gave her arm a squeeze.

  “I’ve wanted to give up so many times. Mum kept me going when she was alive and her memory keeps me going now but I don’t know how long that will work. How much longer I can keep shoveling the shit I really don’t know.” Why I was so comfortable with her still plagued me. I kept revealing private information to her. Was she manipulating me with her journalistic wiles? I wasn’t sure I’d be able to notice it if she was.

  “I know why.” She took a sip from her champagne flute and sat back in her chair.

  The fire crackled and I was suddenly struck by the comforting scent of burning wood, the pine and smoke apparent as I waited for her to tell me why.

  “You know that in the end it’s all going to be worth it. You can see the success that Mallard’s will be.”

  “I dream about it,” I confessed.

  “What do you dream?” she whispered, propping her chin in her hands, leaning her elbows on the table.

  “I’m walking round the hall, every room restored and gleaming in bright summer sunshine. There’s a queue up the driveway of people waiting to get in and I just can’t stop smiling.”

  “That’s not a dream, it’s a vision.”

  “I hope so.” I sighed. “I keep going because in my darkest hours, I dream that dream. And when I hear bad news or something breaks or I realize there’s not a penny left in the coffers, I see those rooms, that queue of people and I find a little grain of strength left deep inside.”

  “You’ll see it for real one day, I’m certain of it.”

  “Thank you.” Silence fell between us. It wasn’t uncomfortable but I didn’t want it to extend much longer because I worried that’s how it would finish up, that the weight of my honesty would quash any budding friendship. I glanced around the room, looking for inspiration.

  “Hey, do you want to see something cool?”

  “Oh, yes, always!” She sat up straight, her back pulling away from the frame of the chair. “What is it?”

  “Follow me”—I picked up the candlestick from the middle of the table—“and I’ll show you.”

  “Okay.” She sounded a little hesitant.

  I supposed the candle confused her. I held out my hand. “There aren’t electric lights where I’m taking you, that’s why I’ve got this. You’ll like it, I promise. I’ll hold your hand.”

  She grabbed me, her slim fingers cool and soft as I squeezed them.

  “Right, no one really knows when these were built or for what reason.” I led her past the fireplace, alongside the imposing table and toward the wall-length tapestry that dominated the room. “There are various theories, though.”

  At the tapestry I let go of her hand and lifted up the left corner. Once the door behind was revealed, I hooked the material over the hook on the wall, placed there just for that very purpose.

  “Oooh, a secret room!” she squealed.

  “A series of them in fact, connected by passageways.”

  “Whoa, it’s like something out of Scooby Doo!” India gasped and her eyes widened as I pushed open the dark wood panel with the cunningly disguised handle.

  “I know, right? I found out about them when I was ten. I stumbled across one of the other doorways and it was like I’d found the entrance to a whole other world.”

  “Yeah, that’s every kid’s dream.” She was on tiptoe, straining to see what was in the dark behind the door.

  “I’ll go in first, take the light source, then you can follow me in. Stay close. It’s pretty safe but the passageways go on for miles and up and down stairs. I don’t want you to get lost or to hurt yourself.”

  “I’ll stick close,” she said and followed me in.

  The smell took me back to the first time I’d entered the complexity of tunnels. I’d been angry and running away from my dad. I’d kicked out at an empty bookcase in the library in a rage. It had shifted and revealed a door behind it.

  I had opened it with trepidation and had been hit with decades of must, damp and hidden secrets. It was a heady combination and the same scent greeted us that night.

  “Wow,” she whispered, “this is amazing!”

  “Isn’t it?” I agreed. “I’ve spent so many happy hours wandering through here and doing… Well, maybe I’ll tell you about that later.” I laughed and shifted the candelabra to my other hand, reaching out to take hers again.

  “The historians can’t decide why these passageways and rooms were built. Some say it was a way of spying. Everyone was paranoid back when this place was built. Others attribute it to being a priest hole but I don’t buy that at all. I don’t think the Mallards have ever been particularly pious. I think they were built as a way for the original Lord Mallard to visit his mistress in secret. There’s whole rooms back here, empty now of course, but they could have been really comfy hidey-holes back in the day.”

  “I’m not sure if I think that’s romantic or creepy.”

  “Probably both,” I laughed, striding confidently on into the dark. I didn’t need the candlelight. I knew every inch of the hidden passageways and had traversed them many, many times over the years.

  “He was married to some young thing, though. All about the money and power. It was well-known they hated each other. It’s thought that they both had lovers and even suspected they never had sex with each other. They always slept in different rooms.”

  “God, that’s sad. When I marry, I’m going to do it for love.”

  “Me too, though Mum tried to get me matched up with so many heiresses it was unreal. Even tried it with a few guys too.”

  “Really?” India exclaimed. “But you’re so obviously not gay.”

  “I’m not gay, no, but I’m not sure it’s that obvious. It wasn’t to her. I didn’t have much to do with girls. I’ve always been a bit awkward around them.”

  “Lord, your mum sounds like a right one. Did she ever give up trying to match-make you?”

  “She lost interest in it for a while but then when she was diagnosed with the cancer she had a go at it again. Determined to get me shacked up before she died.”

  “Sorry.” She shook her hair. “That was insensitive of me.”

  “Nah, it’s fine. You’re right. She controlled me all through her life, still manages to do it now she’s dead. I loved her, though, love her still.” The last word caught in my throat and India squeezed my hand.

  “Of course, I can see that.”

  “She set me up on some awful dates, though.” I chuckled. “None of which I brought back here.”

  “Did you ever bring anyone back here?”

  “No, never. You’re the first.
”

  “Am I?” She smiled. “Aw, thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I blushed. I’d always kept the tunnels and rooms a secret. I was sure some of the staff knew about them. They’d lived and worked in the place for so long they’d be bound to have stumbled over them, but I’d never actively spoken about them to anyone. Had never thought of showing anyone until India.

  “So what did you get up to in here then?” She nudged me with her shoulder. “Tell me.”

  “Well,” I said. “Oh, watch out, we’re going down a couple of steps here, yep, that’s it.” I steadied her, and we stepped down then moved to the right, into a small room.

  “This is one of my favorite spots in the whole of the house.”

  It was simply a small room, a wooden bench along one side, like a shelf built into the wall but at the perfect sitting height. In the opposite corner there was a smaller, triangular shelf fitted into the corner. I put the candle down on that shelf as India squeezed in beside me. It was just big enough for us both to fit in, with a little breathing space.

  “Why? It’s so small.”

  “That’s why. I felt safe here, still do. I used to keep some of my most treasured possessions here.”

  “What?”

  “Porn mags,” I confessed, looking down at the bench and not into her eyes.

  “Oh.” She giggled. “Now I have a bit of an idea what you got up to in here.”

  “Yeah.” I looked up. “I don’t think I need to say any more.”

  “No.” She laughed. “But I think I’d like you to elaborate for me.”

  “Would you?”

  She nodded, keeping her gaze locked with mine.

  “I mean, what is there to tell? I was uncomfortable doing that kind of thing in my room. It always felt so public out there. So many people who could disturb me. I mean, folks would knock but cleaners and staff were always in my room and I didn’t want anyone to find my stash. Obviously because they contained naked girls and people would work out what I did with them.”

  She inclined her head ever so slightly, her eyes flickering with something. Lust maybe, or was I just transferring my emotions onto her?

  “So the perfect answer was to bring my stash down here. Things might have been found—I wasn’t sure I was the only person who knew about the passageways—but it wouldn’t be connected to me at all. And this room is so small, the entrance so tiny, I was sure no one would ever discover me even if they did walk past. It’s a little cupboard, who would bother looking in here?”