His American Fling (20 page)

Maggie blushed as she saw the disapproval register on Gemma’s face. Putting her arm around Henry, she laid her head on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I hope I haven’t embarrassed you, Henry. I’m afraid I’m not very good at this.”

Campbell stared hard at the two of them entwined. He felt a pang of emotion sear through him like a hot poker. Turning to Gemma, he was struck by how exceptionally beautiful and regally British she was compared to Maggie’s perky, freckle-faced American look. He surprised Gemma by putting his arm around her, something which was uncharacteristic for Campbell to do in public.  She stiffened and then peered up into his eyes.  He smiled at her, causing Gemma to wonder what had brought on the display of affection and wishing that Campbell would behave.

Henry chuckled, “Mags, you don’t have to apologize. You’re absolutely charming, just what we need to stir things up. The air gets a little stodgy at these events.”

Campbell continued to hold Gemma as she gingerly put her arm around his waist. She focused her eyes on Maggie. “Campbell says I was a little harsh to you earlier. I forget that you Yanks are thin-skinned. I’m sorry if I seemed mean. It’s just that we’re of the opinion that Americans are a nation of children.”

Maggie looked Gemma straight in the eye. “I’d like to see things from your viewpoint, but I just can’t get my head up my ass that far.”

Henry burst out in laughter as Campbell appeared somewhat confused. He wanted to laugh, but at the same time was sure that if he did, Gemma would eat him for lunch.  Fiona sputtered and started to giggle, observing Gemma’s reaction. Gemma was stunned into silence, her eyes blinking rapidly as she tried to absorb what had just happened.

“Come along Mags, I’ll introduce you to some of the toffs in the room.” Henry said as he put his hand gently on Maggie’s butt and pushed her along.

Campbell watched Maggie and Henry make their way through the aristocratic couples.  Squirming a little, Gemma finally felt Campbell’s arm relax and fall to his side. She knew in her heart that Campbell’s display of affection was an anomaly, a reaction to Henry’s affection toward Maggie. She also knew that something was different when the Yank was around. 

Chapter 11

Law School

We stayed overnight at the Chelsea House rather than go back to Henry’s apartment.  Several couples spent the night, but Campbell and Gemma weren’t among them.  We had breakfast in the obnoxiously sunny dining room. The long Mahogany sideboard was laden with silver chafing dishes, platters, bowls, all filled with enough food to feed Darfur. I wasn’t sure what the food was in some of the containers. I do know that there were various fish with their eyes and tails still attached that caused a little squeak to escape from my lips.

Henry jerked his head back and chuckled when he heard me. He pointed with his middle finger, a habit I noticed that the English had. “Mags, that’s trout, haddock and salmon. In this bowl is Kedgeree. It’s made with haddock, basmati rice, sultanas, curry, parsley and cream.  Now, in this dish are some wonderful deviled kidneys.  That’s porridge, sardines, cutlets, ham, kippers, pheasant, corn flakes, toast, honey, marmalade, potatoes, beans, fried tomatoes, mushrooms and fruit.  Cook will make you eggs anyway you want
them, scrambled, fried, poached, deviled…”  He paused and looked at me. I must have looked dazed because he took a plate and handed it to me so that I would come out of my trance. 

I smiled. “I’ll, uh, have some kedgeree, mushrooms, potatoes, and uh…some fruit.”

Henry put adequate portions on my plate and then placed it on the long Irish linen draped table next to his place at the head of the table. Everyone around me was engaged in conversation. I was asked by a youngish maid if I wanted something to drink. She brought tea in the most exquisitely delicate china cup I had ever seen. She sat it down in front of me as I began to eat. 

Viscount Gareth Pentangle, sitting at the end of the table buttering his toast, yelled politely up to Henry, “Guilford, where’s Adair? I didn’t get a chance to talk to him last night. He kept himself fairly scarce this summer.”

“He and Gemma were catching up on old times last night. He went back to his flat.”

“Does he still own the flat here in Chelsea?” Pentangle asked.

“Yes, about six blocks from here.”  

My head popped up,
Campbell has a flat here too?
    

Pentangle took a bite and then
swallowed without chewing, “We may pop up there on our way out.”

Henry snickered and sighed. “I’d let them get some clothes on first. Like I said, they’re making up for lost time.”

Pentangle’s wife, sitting closer to Henry than her husband, leaned in. “What happened?  How did they end up back together?”

Fiona answered for Henry, “The Queen didn’t hand out an OBE to Gemma’s boyfriend, so she came running back to be a Countess.”

Henry flipped his blonde hair back and grinned. “That’s harsh, even for you Fiona.”

“We all know what Gemma wants,” she said defensively.

Henry tilted his head, shaking it in disapproval, “Now Fiona, Gemma is genuinely fond of Campbell. You had better get used to her being around. I think Campbell will probably marry her this time. Look how miserable he was without her.”

Fiona immediately snapped, “He was
less miserable
than when they were together. He just hasn’t realized it!”  

Henry jerked his head back when he saw how adamant and ferocious Fiona was.  He said nothing more in public, but later after everyone had left except Fiona, he approached the subject.

“Fiona? You were rather vicious this morning at the breakfast table. What happens if Campbell marries Gemma?”

Fiona poured herself a drink. “I guess I’ll have him committed.  He can’t be that barmy, can he?”  She turned to me, “I blame you for this.”

I was dumbfounded and worried.  I valued Fiona’s friendship and here she was accusing me of doing something. “Why? What did I do?”

She sat back in the leather wingback and smiled. “You should have done something…I don’t know, shagged him more often, tied him up, beat him silly. How could you let him fall into her hands again?”

“He’ll never stay with anyone until he gets her out of his system. I couldn’t compete with her specter. Actually, I couldn’t compete with her physical intrusions into our lives. She barged in anytime she wanted with her key.”

“Key?  She had a key?”

“He wouldn’t ask for it back or change the locks.”

Fiona looked at Henry. “See, I told you.  This isn’t love; it’s some pitiful contest between them.”

Henry shrugged. “Mags is right.  Either he makes it permanent, or he decides he’s wasted his time. Not much we can do but stand by and let him make his choice.”

Fiona sneered as she rubbed the back of her neck, “As long as I don’t have to sit next to her at Wimbledon.”

We all chuckled.

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

We went back to Henry’s flat and packed up my feeble back pack, driving the two hours back to Cambridge in record time.  We pulled into Downing and I grabbed my bag from the back. Henry smiled at me, “I haven’t had sex in a dorm in over fifteen years.”

“Henry, that’s not very subtle.”

He gave me a sly smile. “Wasn’t meant to be. I’m leaving a week from tomorrow for London again. I’ll be there a month for a course. I’m afraid I won’t be around for the next month.”  He reached over and kissed me, “So?  More please?”

I cracked up.  “If you’d like to come in for a shag, I could, uh, spare you a few minutes.”

“Bril!”

On the way to my room, Henry took my bag and put his arm around me, kissing the side of my head as we walked into the building. Inside, he put my bag down and I took off my jacket while Henry did the same. He was checking out the room, taking it all in as I
turned up the radiator.

“Did you shag Campbell in this room?” he asked casually.

I was floored, what was I supposed to say?  He saw the look on my face.

“Oh Mags, was I insensitive? I’m sorry.” He sat down on the bed as he took his shoes off. “Truth is, in my circle most of us have dated the same people. Just after my divorce I dated Gemma. That was before she got her claws into Campbell. I found her to be too conniving. But Campbell seemed to have blinders on when it came to her. I knew she was his type right from the beginning. He likes that, snooty, ‘English Rose’ look-- the tall, dark hair, huge eyes, sturdy, upright body. She’s quite elegant. When he started dating Gemma, I was dating Anne Porter, the girl Campbell dated at Eaton. She had just divorced Charles.”

I think my mouth must have been wide open. “Fiona, what about Fiona? Did you two…”

Henry threw his head back and laughed, “Fiona? Oh God, after she tricked Campbell into taking her maidenhood, she didn’t look back. As much as I always wanted to be next in line, she skipped me.”

“You’re telling me that it’s natural for all of you to jump into each other’s beds?”

“No, it’s just that we don’t find it unnerving to date one of our friend’s former lovers. We’re a tight group.”

“Obviously.” I sighed. “I have to admit, I feel as if I’ve been passed around like a hand-me down.”

“Come here and let me assure you that you’re not a hand-me down.” He patted the bed and held out his hand. Henry had the most inviting smile of any man I had met. It was genuine and bright, with just enough teeth to make him seem vulnerable.
 

I immediately did his bidding and scooted over next to him. He grabbed me around my arms and pulled me back down to the bed in a playful gesture. I shrieked and started laughing. Pulling my top up to expose my belly, Henry reached down and blew a raspberry on it.

He rubbed my abdomen. “You are absolutely delicious.”

I stared down at him, giggling. He was resting his head on my stomach, looking up at me with those mischievous eyes. “How can you say that? I made a fool of myself this weekend. Your friends are probably questioning your intelligence at this very moment.”

He kissed my tummy and then looked back up at me. “Mags, you were splendid and fresh. No one thought ill of you. Well, maybe Gemma after that comment, but I thought you were fantastic.” He kissed my stomach again, “Beautiful.” He kissed just above my stomach. “Funny.” He raised my top further up, exposing my bra. “Interesting.” He kissed the tops of my breasts.

Making love to Henry was fun and I looked forward to it. He was exceptionally good and very generous in bed. But, there was something that kept me from fully enjoying the lovemaking and I wasn’t sure what it was.  Did I feel inadequate or inferior? After all, I was a middle class American who combed the newspapers for coupons when I went shopping. Henry and his friends never looked at the end of a sleeve for a price tag. 

But that wasn’t it. Despite my uneasiness around the rich aristocracy, I knew and was comfortable with who I am—smart, industrious, witty, and optimistic. I also knew that I’m not ugly. I wasn’t exactly sure where I fit on the good looks scale, but I knew I was more than a five on a ten point scale. Yet, here I was, asking myself why sex with Henry was quite different than sex with Campbell? Why did I find Campbell so exciting? Perhaps it was because, with Campbell, sex was the one thing that made him human. He laughed, smiled, and became playful. It was like a huge bonus to the physical pleasures of the act itself.

Henry left an hour later
 after some rather exhausting pleasure. I pulled out my books and began to read the next chapter for my International Law class.  When I prepared for bed, I looked in the mirror and noticed that my nose was no longer red and itchy.  My cough was also gone and I was feeling well for the first time in weeks.

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

Several days later I found Nigel standing outside the dining hall talking to another Fellow. I nodded and smiled at him as I passed on my way to breakfast. He abruptly ended his conversation and jogged to catch up to me.

“Maggie, wait for me.”

I stopped, turned around and grinned, “What’s up?”

He sighed, “According to my sister, you put Gemma in her place this weekend.”

I shook my head. “I made a rude comment and I’m sorry that I did. It was uncalled for.”

We continued into the hall and stood in line with our trays. The food in the mornings and at lunch was served cafeteria style. Once
you had a tray of food, you took it to one of the long dark oak tables with benches. The head table sat perpendicular to the long student tables. The Dons and Fellows sat at the head table when dining.

“Oh, pshaw!  According to Fiona, it was Gemma who drew first blood. You just got in the best jab. Bully for you. Fiona and I are not keen on Gemma, we find her a bit too transparent, not our cup of tea at all. We just wish Campbell would grow some bollocks and chuck her out.”

“I think he’s in love with her.”

“Campbell is a prisoner to his own ego.  He just hates being on the wrong end of the breakup. He wasn’t in love with
Gemma; he just couldn’t imagine anyone leaving him, especially for someone else.”

I shook my head decisively. “I think you’re underestimating him. He has real feelings for Gemma or at least they’re real to him. I think she has deep feelings
for him too.”

“The only thing deep about Gemma is her cleavage.”

A huge laugh escaped from my lips, startling most of the half-asleep students waiting in line. After some disapproving looks, I shut up and began to fill my plate with the typical fare, sausages, baked beans, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms and fried bread. I picked up a glass of orange juice and then found a vacant area on one of the benches beneath the high windows.  Nigel nodded a crisp goodbye as he took his tray up to the head table.

I was thinking about Campbell and Gemma when Francis sat down across from me. Francis was a senior who was also reading (majoring in) law.  We occasionally shared notes and studied together. He was about the same height as Henry, with light brown curly hair. His eyes were brown and always looked as if he was worried about something.  This morning he was disheveled and tired looking. His eyes were sunken and his nose a bright red. He coughed and then looked at me. “Maggie, can you take notes for me?  I’m knackered. This cold seems to be hanging on forever.”

“You should go up to Addenbrookes and get a checkup.”

He was coughing and nodding at the same time. He took a deep breath, “If it doesn’t clear up soon, I will.”

I went to class and was pleased that I had done the recommended reading. The lecture on feudal real property rights would never have made sense if I hadn’t read about it the night before. I could see that half the class was following while the other half was worriedly taking notes and looking around to see if anyone else was getting it.  I thought to myself that it was an important topic and a horrible lecture to miss.  I worried about Francis catching up. 

The British do not teach law the same way we do in the United States. In the USA, law schools are traditionally taught using the Socratic
Method. It means that the teacher may lecture a little, but then he’ll call randomly on students to stand up and be grilled on the reading, usually they are asked to brief a case from their texts. It makes you have to think on your feet, something most attorneys are required to do in trial.  Very few students who become lawyers in England are going to be Barristers in a courtroom; hence British students aren’t put through their paces in the classroom. They usually become solicitors and, if their client requires a trial lawyer, the solicitor will engage a barrister.