His American Fling (16 page)

After blow drying her wavy blonde hair, she put a head band on to keep it out of her face.  There was no time to apply a lot of makeup so she lined her eyes with brown and slapped on some mascara.  In the middle of brushing her teeth she heard a knock on her sitting room door across the hall. She opened the bedroom door and saw Henry turn around
to look at her.

“Oh!  There you are. Ready?”

“Come in, I’ll just be five minutes...no more.”

He walked into her bedroom and looked around at the stacks of law books on the floor, photos on the walls and clothes neatly piled on a chair in the corner, which was obviously doubling as her laundry basket. 

She packed the toothbrush, put on some lipstick and turned around, smiling at Henry. “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DE Mille.”

“Smashing, absolutely smashing. We better get cracking. We need to beat the traffic.”

They talked the whole trip about Conventions, the Royal Family and the Americans’ love of everything British.  Maggie had forgotten to ask about the arrangements.  They pulled into the mews behind Henry’s flat and parked in the garage around 6:30 p.m.  She got out, grabbed her backpack and followed him into the side entrance. 

“Who lives here?”

He looked slightly surprised at her question. “I do. It’s my flat in London. My family has a larger townhome, but I can’t stand the hordes of people that come and go all the time, so I stay here. I bought this one right after my divorce.”

He opened the door and they walked up the stairs to the interior of the impressive townhouse.  It had a large parlor with a shiny grand piano nestled close to the interior wall. The dining area and the living room were separated by white columns going up to the 15 foot ceilings with equally tall windows facing a park. The kitchen was modern with an island/breakfast bar. Henry showed Maggie the two guest rooms and then finally his room with the two large closets, ensuite bathroom, fireplace, and queen sized bed. The bedroom was beautiful with three large bay windows, a window seat and a small fireplace. The large ensuite bathroom was tiled in marble and had a large claw-foot tub that obviously wasn’t from the twentieth century.

“Now Maggie, you have to decide. Do you want your own room or do you want to keep me company?”

Maggie knew this was coming. It would have been easier if he had just had one bedroom and the question didn’t have to be
asked.  But here she was—did she jump in his bed?  Would he think she was rather cavalier, having only just left Campbell’s bed weeks ago?  Or, if she agreed to sleep with him, would he consider it a mature decision based on the fact she was trying to move on?

“Your bedroom has the nice fireplace and view.  Would you mind terribly if I put my things in there?”

He laughed, took her around the waist and pulled her into him, kissing her lips lightly at first.  She pulled back to look at him; his expression was soft from the kiss.  Henry looked at an errant lock that was hanging from her forehead.  Sweeping it back, he looked down at her mouth again. This time he closed his eyes and so did she. Their lips connected, tongues met and bodies pressed into each other.  She was warm and ready. He let his hand slip down from her waist, over her hip to her ass, pulling her as close as possible, only breaking their kiss to whisper, “We have enough time before the party if you’d like to...”

Maggie pushed back, “
Party?”

“Party. It doesn’t start until 9:00 p.m. We have time to have a quick shag, shower and dinner.”

Her heart was beating in her throat, “I didn’t bring anything to wear to a party!”

“Don’t worry, Fiona stays here frequently when she’s in London. She has a whole closet of clothes you can wear. We’ll sort you out after we have some fun.”

Maggie bit her lip and ran her hands through her hair. It wasn’t the sex that was making her palms cold and clammy.  She knew Henry was an Earl and the party wouldn’t be at some frat house. 
It’s my own damn fault. I should have thought this through. I should have asked some questions. Oh damn, I’m such an idiot.

“Henry, would you be terribly upset if we postponed the quick shag until tonight when we get back?  I know this sounds like a horrible cliché, but I really do have a headache. Maybe if I lie down
a while, it will go away.” Maggie wasn’t lying. Her head had exploded into throbbing waves of pain. But, it wasn’t just the headache, she also needed time to think, think about what she was getting herself into.

Henry squeezed her hand and smiled, his eyes crinkled. “Maggie, it’s okay. We don’t have to rush anything. Before you go to sleep, come with me.”

Maggie walked with him through the hall and over to one of the guest bedrooms. When she entered he had her sit on the cream-colored Italian cotton duvet with green silk piping around it. “Let’s see. You’re shorter and just a little smaller than Fiona, so let’s look. Ah, you see this dress? This is what she calls her “skinny dress.” She wears it after she’s been dieting for weeks. Try it on.”

Maggie felt like crying and it showed.  “I can tell that the dress will fit, but what do I do about shoes?  I think these sneakers will be the crowning touch, don’t you?”

He grabbed some shoes out of the closet, “She wears a 6.”

She took a deep breath, “I wear a British 4.”

“Oh!  Bloody small feet aren’t they?”

She chuckled. “I guess.”

“Hmmm.  You go to sleep and it will all be sorted when you wake up. Trust me.”  He reached over and kissed her on the cheek, smiled, and then escorted her back to his bedroom. 

The room was impressively dressed in royal blues and tans, very sophisticated and yet, comfortable.  Maggie knew the royal blue
with gold pinstriped silk-organza drapes hanging on the three windows were worth more than her tuition to Cambridge for the semester. She took off her shoes and lay back on the bed, looking up at the molding and gold inlay on the ceiling. Feeling dizzy; she cursed to herself—she was in over her head.  She was a girl from Buena Vista, California, a lower middle class burb near Knotts Berry Farm.  How was she supposed to swim in these waters?

Maggie woke up around 7:00, her mouth feeling like cotton balls had been stuffed down her throat.  She took a drink of water and tiptoed to the door. Opening it quietly, she was surprised to see five pairs of women’s shoes, size four, waiting in an orderly fashion for her to choose. Three were three inch dress heels, one was a pair of boots,
and the fourth was a pair of Cole Hahn loafers.

A voice rang out from the living room, “Try the shoes on and let us know.”

She answered weakly, “Okay.”

Maggie went through the pairs of Stuart Weitzman, Jimmy Choo and Prada shoes.  Only the Jimmy Choos didn’t fit, they were slightly too large. She took a shower, applied
what little makeup she had brought and styled her hair.  She slipped on the wrap dress, the Prada sling backs, and walked out to the living room.

He whistled. “Bugger all, you’re absolutely gorgeous.  Fiona is going to hate me. You look much better than she does in the dress. Ready to go?”

She felt butterflies in her stomach, “Sure.”

**************
*******

It was worse than she imagined.  The mansion was only fifteen miles south of London in an area that smelled like money to Maggie.  As they drove up the long driveway, she nervously looked at an impeccably dressed Henry, taking comfort in the fact that he seemed so relaxed and in control.  He had on summer weight wool trousers (crisply pressed), a silk t-shirt and black leather jacket.    He glanced over at her, saw her nervous twitch and grinned.
             

“They don’t bite, Mags.”  He said sweetly.

“You say that, but I find it really nerve-wracking. I’ve never been around the aristocracy.”‘

“Yes, you have. You were around Campbell for several weeks.”

“But, I didn’t really know he was a mucky-muck until after we broke up.”

“Broke up?”

“I mean, stopped seeing each other.”

“Were you two really close?”

“Do we have to talk about Campbell?  He made his decision and it wasn’t me.”

He pulled up and parked his own car even though there were valets present to do the deed.  He quickly jaunted around the car to open the passenger side for Maggie who carefully stepped out in the dress and lovely Prada shoes that she was afraid of getting dirty.
                                         

“Henry, don’t walk so fast. I need to watch where I’m going.”

He nuzzled her hair. “They are just shoes.”

“Prada?  Yeah, and your Aston Martin is
just
a car.”

He snickered. “Point well taken.”

Maggie looked up at the Georgian hall, three stories tall and all lit up in flood and landscaping lights.  The building was a gorgeous golden block with eight foot tall windows that lined the outside. There was an expansive four step entry to the massive oak doors which were opened by a butler in perfect coat and tails. They walked into the foyer of the hall.  Maggie swallowed hard as she glanced up at the double sided staircase, large Waterford chandelier and impeccably polished marble stairs.  Her wrap was taken by a maid as they moved further into the hall.  She looked across at the large mirror over the Chippendale entry table.  After checking her lipstick and fluffing her hair, Maggie felt ready to face Henry’s friends.  She could hear music, laughter and voices coming from the rooms to both her left and right.

“Henry!”  The voice came from a tall man, thick-rimmed glasses, slightly balding and thin. He patted Henry’s back as if they hadn’t seen each other for years.

“Charles, steady on, that’s my shoulder, not your girlfriend’s ass.”  Henry held out an arm to Maggie, “Charles, this is Maggie. Maggie, this is Charles.”

“Thank you for having me, Charles.”

“Oh, so you’re the Yank.” he said it with a smile that seemed to be a mixture of both genuine pleasure and deceitful interest. 

Maggie thought Charles was only interested in the fact that she was on the arm of Henry, nothing more. They walked into a large room lit with dozens of lamps that would have lit a smaller room so bright every shadow would be banished, but in this massive room, the lights barely gave definition to the faces that floated through the room laughing and talking. The room was filled with three or more dozen people.  The music was blaring; a foursome was playing cards in the corner; drinks were being poured.  Several couples walked over to Henry and Maggie. Henry made introductions and Maggie received the once over from the males as well as the females.  Fiona looked up from the couch and smiled at Maggie who smiled back.

Fiona parted the crowd. “Maggie, so good of you to come.  I see Henry has introduced you to my limited weekend wardrobe. You look darling in that dress.” She looked at Maggie’s feet. “Henry, great taste in the shoes!”  She glanced back up at Maggie, “Henry rang me and told me about the shoe dilemma.  I put him in contact online with Harrods.”

“Oh! Now it makes sense. I wondered
how they had appeared out of the blue.”

“You look bril darling.  Come with me, let me introduce you around.”

Fiona’s arm entangled Maggie’s and she was whisked away from Henry’s side past the sofa area. Maggie looked furtively over her shoulder at him, but he seemed nonplused by it all. Henry was engaged in conversation with his friends.

Maggie was introduced throughout the group to Lords, Dames, Earls, Knights, Barons, Dukes and numerous political gadflies. Fiona kept the conversations going until she saw a friend across the room and ran to greet her.  Maggie found herself with five women, all wives and sisters of important men. The conversation continued with news of balls, flower shows, exhibitions, things that Maggie knew nothing about. She felt out of sorts, overwhelmed by the entire scene. Excusing herself, she left when she realized that she had nothing to offer to the conversation. 

Maggie walked across a massive rug which she determined might be older than her great-great-grandfather. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw Henry laughing and talking animatedly with his hands. There was a dark oak door leading to another room about ten feet in front of her. Maggie decided she needed a break and walked through the door into a rather impressive library with huge shelves crammed full of books that were leathery, some dusty, and all impressive to look at. She took in her surroundings, noting the large fireplace and then, off to the side, two men, both in sports coats.

Her heart missed a beat, growing heavier as she stood there. His blue eyes met hers. She tried to run, but Campbell called out, “Maggie!”

She closed her eyes briefly, took a deep breath and then turned to face him. “Campbell?”

Campbell looked somewhat stunned, but recovered. “Geoff, if you’ll excuse me, I haven’t seen Maggie in
a while.”

“Righto, I need to refresh my drink.”  He walked up to Maggie, “Nice to meet you Maggie, I’m Geoff.”

Maggie smiled, shook his hand, “Nice to meet you Geoff.”

“Drink?” he asked, his gray eyes analyzing her every move.