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“Gwenivere, yes?”
“Gwendolyn actually, but close enough. Really, I should have known better, but Mum’s a romantic. She thought it was sweet.”
“Very sweet. Social climber, I imagine?”
“Did Charlie say that?”
“Educated guess. When a girl asks a countess to introduce her to her eldest son, she’s probably not trying to sell him a timeshare in the Maldives.”
Regan held out her cup, demanding he pour again. He did so and felt a flash of real anger at her. Was it because he didn’t want to dredge up the old agony? Or because he didn’t want to slander Charlie to her? Maybe he just didn’t want Wendy here, with them. And now she was. The clouds moved in. The day was ruined.
“She was beautiful,” he said, remembering how his sister had said she looked like a younger Billie Piper with brown hair. “And smart. Funny. Mature. She worked at the gallery, too, so it was like she was already an adult. I don’t know if I was in love with her or just sick of being a virgin.”
“Bit of both I would guess.”
He shrugged and went on: “We spent hours on the phone, talking, texting. When we had sex the first time two weeks later, it didn’t feel like two weeks. I felt like I’d known her for years. She wasn’t even upset when I was hurting her. We laughed about it. It doesn’t hurt a bloke’s feelings when your girl teases you over having a cock too big. Eventually we made it work.”
“What went wrong?” Regan’s voice was smooth and cool and clinical, the voice of a psychologist examining a patient.
“I loved her. First mistake. I trusted her. Second mistake. We spent time with Charlie together. Biggest mistake.”
“Trusted her with what? Wait.” She lifted her chin off her hand, narrowed her eyes at him. “You told her, didn’t you? What you like?”
“She asked.”
“She asked about your sexual fantasies?”
He nodded.
“What did you tell her?”
“I…tried to explain it like knights and ladies. How a knight would swear to do anything for his lady, serve her in any way she asked. Basically worship her. I was trying to come around to, you know—being treated the way you treat me. Tied up or blindfolded or just…servicing her. She said that was very interesting, and she would think about that.”
“Did she pat you on your head?”
He turned his teacup on the saucer, turned it round and round but didn’t drink from it. “On her birthday I decided to surprise her, go over to her house, take her flowers. Her Mum let me in, let me sneak upstairs with my stupid bouquet. I was in the hall, outside her door, and heard her in her bedroom, talking to a friend on the phone.”
He was back in that hallway again, flowers in hand—honeysuckle and roses, the scent of their cloying sweetness tickling his nose.
God, fuck, why did I have to go and pick the pervert? I think he wants me to tie him up and spank him or something. Should have known. That entire family is just a load of whores. Even the mother.Especiallythe mother.
Silence followed as her friend on the phone said something in reply. Then Wendy laughed and spoke again.
Yes, he’s gorgeous but no one’sthatgorgeous. Nearly killed me not to laugh in his face. Like, really?
Silence again.
You’re right. The brother seems normal, at least. And he’s mad about me already. Boys that age are so easy. You give them one smile, and they think you want to have their babies. At least if I ever need cash, I have something I can blackmail a future earl with. “Hand it over, Arthur, or I’m telling the world you like being spanked by girls.”
“Then she laughed,” Arthur said. “She laughed and laughed and laughed.”
Regan stared at him without expression.
“For the record,” Arthur continued, trying to make light of it so she wouldn’t see how mortified he’d been, “I have no interest in being spanked. Slapped, maybe, but not spanked.”
“What did you do?”
“I left. Couldn’t face her. Later that night, I called her. She didn’t pick up so I left a message calling her a pathetic chav, a shameless social climber who didn’t deserve to lick the bottom of my brother’s shoe. Didn’t take that well, did she? I knew she’d be angry, but I didn’t think she’d be so vindictive.
