It was him who leaned closer, curious.
“So, given that you have been so forthcoming in what you are offering us,” he said. “What is it that you want in return? There must be some things you are seeking that I could show you my appreciation by supplying.”
My expression was stoic as I weighed it up, but he was keen and eager, clearly very taken with the offers I’d been presenting him.
Yes, there were some things he could show his appreciation by supplying. Two of them.
I decided to lay my cards right out there on the table.
“I want a few things in particular,” I said. “Some things that may be controversial.”
“Anything,” he said, holding up his hands with a smirk. “Controversial is my middle name.”
My gut was boiling with need even as I uttered the words.
“I want Lord Eddington and Baron Rawlings,” I told him. “And I want them delivered to me personally so I can kill them myself.”
21
Elaine
I was still enjoying the comfy bed and my full stomach from breakfast when the knock came at the bedroom door. It was a different knock than the nervous little taps we’d had previously, this one was confident, with a real bounce in it. My nerves shot up into my throat as I headed over to answer it, knowing full well it must be Francesca Quentin out there on the landing.
Yes, it was. It was Francesca Quentin greeting me with a smile, and she looked every bit as radiant as she had the night before.
She was wearing a clearly designer dress down to her knees, in a turquoise green that brought out the green of her eyes. Her lips were scarlet, matching her flame hair just right.
The woman just reeked of glamor.
Such a shame that I didn’t.
I was in one of Jemma’s cheap cami tops over a faded pair of jeans. I felt a mess compared to her, but she made me feel anything but as she clapped her hands together in excitement to see me.
“Elaine!” she gushed. “Such a pleasure to have you! I can’t wait until Marissa Frank arrives! Just a few more minutes and she should be pulling up with her collection, armed and ready to go.”
I had no idea what she was talking about and it must have shown on my face. She tipped her head as she spoke again.
“Lucian didn’t tell you? We have both my stylist and beautician coming over today to treat you to whatever you desire. He said your suitcase most certainly needs the additions.”
No, Lucian hadn’t told me. He hadn’t mentioned a thing, and it touched me all over again to realize just how important my happiness must be to him. He was spoiling me in every way he could, at every opportunity.
“It’s going to be so much fun!” Francesca exclaimed, and I had to hide another fresh bout of happy tears that threatened to spill from me, beaming a grin right back at her.
“Thank you, I really appreciate it.”
She waved a hand. “Nothing to be thankful for. Two girls together, having fun. Makes my day as much as yours.”
I had nothing to take with me, so I didn’t even bother looking, just stepped out onto the landing alongside her and let her lead the way.
All the way down the stairs she was telling me just how amazing a stylist Marissa Frank was and how excellent her beautician was to match. She walked me through to the main sitting room telling me about some of the incredible outfits Marissa had sourced for her and just how fantastic my wardrobe was going to be by the time she left today.
“Prosecco or coffee?” she asked me with a laugh as she called the housekeeper in.
“Coffee, please, black,” I said, and she shrugged, then ordered herself a prosecco.
Yet again it was a strange situation not to be ordering a prosecco to match, but I didn’t want one. I had no desire to drink again. It was gone. Faded. Finished.
One thing I did want was the doctor who arrived on demand and checked out my rib cage through my bandages. Francesca acted like it was nothing when they nodded their approval and gave me a shot of antibiotics, wiping it aside like no big deal, even though it had been a huge scary one when it had happened.
I was really fitting in here, comfortable, and so was Lucian.
For once I felt like this truly might work for us. Maybe, just maybe, we’d survive this long term.
The housekeeper had only just delivered our drinks when I heard a hello sounding out from the sitting room door. Francesca jumped to her feet and went rushing over, hugging the woman stepping inside and showering her with air kisses. The woman resounded with style, just as Francesca did. She had a flick of violet in her jet-black curls, dressed in a glorious purple tunic over fitted pants.
I guessed this was Marissa Frank, and rightly so, since she headed right over and clasped her hands together, staring at my clothes up and down.
“This is Elaine,” Francesca told her, and the woman’s jaw practically dropped open.
“Elaine Constantine?!”
It felt like I hadn’t been recognized in years by that point, and I’m sure I was blushing.
“Hi, yes, I’m Elaine Constantine.”
Francesca picked up the conversation for me.
“Elaine is relocating here to the UK,” she told the stylist. “Only it’s confidential at the moment, non-disclosure at any cost.”
The woman nodded her approval. “Of course, yes, absolutely.”
She shook off her surprise and gave me a smile of a whole different nature. Excitement and respect to a whole different tune. That’s what the Constantine name does for you, though.
“I’d better start bringing the collection in,” she said and she was off with the help of the housekeeper and butler, bringing cases and clothes racks in from outside.
There were a lot of them. It was like being in a designer store by the time the whole selection of clothes was unloaded. She’d also arrived with a selection of full-length mirrors, all ready for spin and twirl.
“So, tell me what kind of styles you like,” Marissa Frank said, and I took a breath, then began my answer.
I told her exactly what kind of styles I liked, everything from designer casual to designer evening wear. She measured me up to confirm all my sizes, and her markers. I was a size eight. She had a whole ocean of size eight clothes ready for my perusal, and Francesca was joining in with the exclamations as I started working my way through the racks, pulling out anything that grabbed my interest.
My God, plenty of things grabbed my interest.
Beautiful designer blouses and pencil skirts, right through to floaty mid-length dresses, fitted pants and tight little cami tops that put Jemma’s entire wardrobe to shame.
Marissa Frank had everything I could possibly want. Bras and panties and tights and stockings. Bustiers and corsets and tights. Jeans. Jackets. EVERYTHING.
I was in my element as I pulled clothes out from the racks to try on. It only took one scoot of me heading into the room next door and shifting from Jemma’s clothes into a new bra and panties before I felt utterly like Elaine again. It was like a light switch had been flicked on in my head.
Francesca was as expressive as Marissa was, both of them clapping and whooping whenever I stepped out in a new outfit. They loved them all. So did I. I had a new level of appreciation for every single thing I tried on after having gone without any clothes at all bar Lucian’s shirt for days on end.