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Chapter 23
A month had passed since that tumultuous weekend in Scotland. I thought back on how our relationship had developed over the previous weeks and I was blissfully happy with the outcome.
We had eventually returned from Inverness on the Monday when the airport reopened. The changes to our relationship were apparent from the outset. Jason had been far more forthcoming with expressions of endearment and affection and remained keen to prove he was genuine about his declaration of love.
Changes to our routine in the week too. There was no more cooking evening meals for Jason. Mr Brooks had been resurrected from his basement flat to cook evening meals for us, freeing up my time to do other things in the early evening. Mr Brooks was retired from the army where he spent his years as batman for a colonel. He turned out to be an excellent chef too.
I spent my free time doing my own preferred form of exercise: zumba and salsa dancing. Jason had released me from his required gym sessions, which were intensely boring and begrudgingly agreed to my own regime. Convincing him salsa dancing was innocuous fun took some doing as he had combated his issues over me dancing with other men.
“It is a professional dance class, no hanky panky.” My hands were on my hips while he had suppressed a strongly worded rebuttal. Then he had sighed and raised his hands in defeat.
Jason continued his relentless pace of work and I accepted he was not going to be much company in the evenings. He came to bed with stress more evident on his face. Since our engagement, he no longer hid his feelings from me. His unreadable face was fading from view and he embraced his emotions more readily. Some nights he came to bed aroused and we made rapid, urgent love, letting him release his frustrations through me. It could be rough sometimes, but never without pleasure, and he remained the director of our love-making. I came loudly and when I wished. It was very therapeutic and the freedom helped heal my fractured passions.
I made a special effort to meet the elusive Mrs Harris by turning up mid-day on the first Friday back from Scotland. She had been noticeably perturbed by my presence. She had been busy preparing food for the weekend and keeping a watchful eye on a cleaner.
I thought though I won her over quickly when I had complimented her on her food and asked that she continued to treat us to her culinary delights. We had chatted about the house and its furnishings. We laughed together when I had mentioned my desire to feminise the property more. I did not mention the engagement, it felt more appropriate coming from Jason. Mrs Harris had been further delighted when in the afternoon I took her off in my BMW to buy food from that the farm shop. She had gone home at four o’clock with a basketful of fresh fruit.
My first evening with Jason, back together at Blythewood, was perhaps the tensest of the last few weeks. I had sat doing a crossword while Jason checked his emails on his laptop. Both of us were showing signs of agitation as our unrequited needs remained unspoken. I had taken the initiative, went over to him and pushed his laptop to one side so I could sit on his lap.
“Gemma?” His eyes had flashed with amusement. “Am I boring you?”
I had wriggled on his lap. “I want to be entertained, Mr Lucas,” I said cheekily.
“Indeed.”
The prod was enough to spur him into action.
As he had promised in Scotland, we both entered his lair together. Only when we were both inside the room, door shut, would he turn and ask me to submit to him. I would kneel, offer myself willingly to him, calling him master. It became the pattern of our visits over the coming weeks. I would called him master and he called me other names – little subbie, slave or something else - to help reinforce the difference our relationship took in his room. We used our personal names only when communicating about the nature of the play. The sessions were often very intense. Jason came close to pushing me to my limits on a few occasions. He could read my body language like a book though and each time I felt a safe-word was going to be uttered, he withdrew or eased up. The trust between us continued to be built.
The announcement of our engagement was postponed until we had let our respected parents know. Jason’s parents could not hide their delight. Their son was finally settling down and fulfilling their dreams. I hoped the tension, which Jason felt towards his siblings, would abate too.
Naturally, my parents had been concerned.
“This engagement is awfully quick, Gemma,” my mother had whispered to me in her kitchen. “Are you sure?”
“We’ve had to work through a few issues, mum, but honestly it is good, really good. Don’t worry about me. For one thing, I’m going to be very rich, so I don’t want you and dad to worry about anything. Jason is very generous with his money,”
“I don’t want your money, dear, just your happiness.”
Jason had been much more relaxed during this visit. He did not look too out of place in my parents’ semi-detached house. We came in my BMW leaving his Austin Martin back at home; too ostentatious to park in a quiet cul-de-sac. My dad and Jason shared a common interest in cricket and I had sighed inwardly when I realised my summer months would include cricket clubs as well as golf clubs.
Trudy had been over the moon, threw her arms around me when I told her. “Oh well done, Gemma. All this time you’ve been beavering away and you’ve hit the jackpot. Those excuses about your weekends, tut, tut...” She had stood back and smiled at me hands on hips. “You clean up good too, manicured and polished, wealth suits you.”
I had gone red in the face at the reminder of how rich I was going to be when I become Mrs Lucas.
Trudy had looked noticeably thinner and had slight scar above her eyebrow. I had shuddered at the thought of what had happened to her. She had reached out and taken my hand.
“I’m alright, Gemma, honestly. I cannot recall a thing about that night. I’ve got to come to terms with what has happened to me, but I don’t have a sense of trauma about it all. Hopefully I never will.” I had tried to smile back at her. It was hard as I felt nothing but guilt for her predicament.
“The counsellor has been very helpful and I’m ready to go back to work. I’m very grateful to your Mr Lucas for his support.”
Jason had been paying a highly respected psychologist to meet Trudy regularly.
“No ring?” Trudy had noticed the absence of my engagement ring.
“Soon, he’s promised me.”
The very next day, I stood in a Cartier shop examining a whopping great big diamond engagement ring.
