Cadence of My Heart (20 page)

“About what?”

“Oh, this and that.” Marlee rubs her thumb over Cadence’s thigh, trying to do so subtly. “She wants to know who you’re having sex with.”

Cadence rolls her eyes. “She thinks the knickers Vince found are mine?”

“Not anymore.” Marlee exploits the angle of Cadence’s body to sneak her fingertips beneath the hem of the satin dress, tickling bare thigh. “I told her they were mine.”

“Really?!” Cadence titters excitedly. “Who does she think you’re doing it with?”

“Cadence,” Vince interrupts them before Marlee can answer. “Would you like to dance with me?” He places a hand on her shoulder. “I think it’s expected of us.”

“Not now.” Cadence shrugs him off. “Maybe later.”

Their engagement hasn’t been announced yet, so she wants to keep him at bay for as long as possible. She doesn’t fancy having his cologne-drenched body anywhere near hers, his sweaty palms touching her all over. Ugh. She would quite like to dance, though, and as the music changes to a slow, romantic number, she jumps to her feet, yanking on Marlee’s hand.

“Let’s dance!”

Warning bells that Marlee had thought long since silenced start to go off again, but she convinces herself that it’s all perfectly innocent and above board. What could be the harm? It’s just a dance, and there’s no reason at all why the two of them shouldn’t be seen dancing together.

Indeed, it certainly begins innocently enough, with Cadence’s hands on Marlee’s shoulders, Marlee’s hands on Cadence’s waist, and a respectful distance between them. That distance starts to narrow, though, until they’re practically pressed against one another, with Cadence’s arms wrapped around Marlee’s neck, and Marlee’s hands on Cadence’s lower back.

“Are you happy, darling?” Marlee’s now close enough to give her an Eskimo kiss.

“I will be once we’re away from here.”

They never completely pull back from the nose rub, and their dancing slows … and slows … and slows, until they’re barely moving. The rest of the room fades away, the music of little importance, and Cadence tilts her head slightly, her lips parted and moist, ready for kissing.

“I love you, Marlee,” she whispers, their lips brushing together.

Time grinds to a halt.

People must be staring.

Marlee knows the kiss is coming long before it happens, and she does nothing to stop it. In fact, she welcomes it. She
wants
the Ashlocks to see her with their daughter, and for them to know that, for all their wealth and influence, they have no control over Cadence’s heart—nor who she chooses to give it to.

Eyes closed, she feels the heat from Cadence’s breath as their mouths press together, the intimate peck lasting for a full five seconds.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

That should be it. That should be the end of it, but Marlee keeps her eyes closed, waiting for more, blaming the gin for throwing caution to the wind.

“That’s not enough,” she whispers breathily, letting her hands slip from Cadence’s waist to her bum, squeezing her buttocks. “I want more.”

As the words tumble off the tip of her tongue, she becomes aware of Cadence’s arms tightening around her neck and the warmth returning to her lips. Another kiss!

It begins tentatively, lips pinched against lips, then it evolves into more, the intensity escalating until they’re in the midst of a passionate clinch. They’re not dancing at all, they’re just kissing—in front of
everyone
.

Five seconds.

Ten.

Fifteen.

Twenty.

Wow.

In the wake of it, Marlee—surprisingly calm, given the circumstances—smiles broadly. “I think we might have to leave now.” She takes Cadence’s hands in hers. “I hope you’re packed!”

The next few minutes pass as if they’re caught up in a tumbling wave: riding the crest of it, caught up in the swell of it, going with the flow of it. While the Ashlocks and Cartwrights turn their tempers on one another, flinging accusations like monkeys hurl shit, Marlee and Cadence flee from the room.

After retrieving their suitcases, they use the servants’ passages to make a stealthy exit through the servants’ quarters, where Rachel—all too happy to “Stick it up the Ashlocks!”—helps them escape through the back door, handing them the keys to one of the vehicles licensed for use by the domestic staff.

It all seems so easy.

Drive to the train station.

Ditch the car there.

Buy two tickets to Glasgow with cash.

Marry Cadence.

Live happily ever after.

What could possibly go wrong?

Two months later …

Cadence wakes up to an abundance of soft kisses south of her waist, Marlee’s face buried between her thighs. In short order, she giggles with astonishment, moans, clutches at Marlee’s tresses, moans again, and comes. From beginning to end, the performance lasts a little under five glorious minutes.

Satisfied with her accomplishment, Marlee resurfaces and settles next to Cadence on the bed, licking her lips. “Good morning, darling. Are you ready for your big day?”

Cadence takes a deep breath, glancing out of the bedroom window at the dark blue hue of the pre-dawn sky. “I think so.”

“Up you get, then.” Marlee wriggles out of bed, already dressed in jeans and a blouse—this one with proper buttons that go all the way. “I can walk there with you, if you’d like.” She pulls the duvet off naked Cadence. “It’s sort of on the way for me.”

It’s been eight weeks since their elopement, and six weeks since they took up residence in their modest, middle-of-the-row terraced house nestled in the picturesque Hampshire village of Beaulieu, just a twenty minute drive from Milford-on-Sea. The cottage is tiny—only two up, two down—but it’s all they need. Perhaps more importantly, it’s all they can afford.

Marlee was worried that Cadence would find it claustrophobic having to live in such tight quarters, but as yet, she hasn’t expressed even the slightest hint of displeasure or discomfort. Much to Marlee’s relief, no regrets have surfaced either.

Cadence is adjusting well to her new life, becoming accustomed to doing dishes, helping Marlee make dinner, and tending to their small garden. There’ve been a few teething problems, of course. For instance, the first time she cleaned the toilet, she threw up all over the floor. The toilet wasn’t even dirty. It was just a practice run.

Fortunately, Marlee’s parents are close enough for regular visits. Her mother’s been good about teaching Cadence how to cook and change lightbulbs, while her father’s been offering up tips on vegetable growing. They’ve taken Cadence under their wing, showering her with all the love and attention she never received from her own mother and father as a child.

It’s a perfect life, and Marlee hums contentedly, making Cadence a breakfast of jam-slathered toast. She’s been trying to mother her less, but it’s difficult. The habit of caring for her is just too deeply ingrained. Not that she really minds. She likes doing things for her young lover—now her wife.

Wife! What a thought! She twirls a sterling silver wedding ring around her finger, admiring the simple elegance of it, still getting used to the idea.

“It’s not a dream, Marl.” Cadence smiles at her from the kitchen doorway. “It really happened.” She holds up her left hand, showing off a matching ring.

She looks very grown up, Marlee thinks, gazing at her in black cotton trousers and a white blouse, her hair braided by her own hand, a trace of shadow on her eyelids.

“Well, I hope you won’t mind if I continue to be amazed by it every day.” Marlee hands her a plate of toast. “Amazed, and extraordinarily happy.”

Cadence takes the plate. “I can make my own toast, you know. I learned how to work the toasting contraption while we were in Scotland.”

“And you only set the smoke alarm off once.” Marlee laughs. “Very impressive.”

“I’m glad you appreciate my talents, and just think”—Cadence sits at their small table, handmade by Marlee’s father—“this time next year, I might even be able to use the oven.”

“We’ll see about that. I’m not sure you can be trusted.” Still laughing, Marlee glances at the clock on the wall. “Oh, heck! We’d better get a move on, else you’ll be late.”

They leave the house in under ten minutes, embarking on the short walk from their humble dwelling to the rear entrance of Palace House: a stately home on the banks of the Beaulieu River.

“This isn’t on your way to work at all, is it?” Cadence suspects as they reach the back gates. “Did you walk me here just to make sure I wouldn’t bottle it at the last minute?”

“No, you daft bugger.” Marlee fixes Cadence’s bangs, making sure she looks perfectly presentable. “I mean, you’re half right. It’s not on my way to work—it’s the opposite direction in fact—but I only came because I thought you’d like the company.”

Cadence scoops her into an embrace and kisses her softly. “I love the company.” Another kiss. “Will you meet me here after? We’ll walk home together.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” One more kiss.

That would be their parting, but as Cadence turns to walk through the gates, Marlee notices there’s something amiss.

“Wait.” She captures Cadence’s elbow, holding her back. “You’re missing something.” She waggles a finger at her blouse, just above her left breast. “Where is it? You haven’t forgotten it already, have you?”

“Nope!” Cadence digs around in her trouser pockets, finally fishing out a nametag. “You do the honors.” She hands it over.

Marlee fixes the tag to her blouse, making sure it’s not wonky. “All better.” She taps her bum lightly. “Now get inside.”

Cadence does as she’s told, looking over her shoulder no less than four times between the gates and the Palace House servants’ entrance. She’s nervous, but doing her best to hide it.

Today marks the first day of her first ever job, and truthfully, Marlee
had
half feared she might succumb to nerves and back out. This is such a far cry from the life she was meant to lead: working as a maid instead of having one of her own.

Certainly, over the last few years, Cadence has made some brave choices, and Marlee wonders if, in her position—especially at her age—she’d have had the courage to do the same. At seventeen, she was still seeing boys and trying to figure out why they didn’t make her heart go thump-thump like they did with her friends. It took her another year to figure that one out.

At any rate, she walks back the way she came—back into the center of the village—and heads toward the independent children’s nursery she now works at, caring for a classroom full of preschool age children.

Life couldn’t be better.

Meanwhile, at Neverleigh Manor, the penny still hasn’t dropped. Once the shock dissipated and the yelling subsided, the Ashlocks burst into laughter. In their eyes, this little “stunt” is just another one of Cadence’s tantrums.

When they caught up to the runaways in Glasgow, they didn’t fight to take Cadence back. Instead, they arrived with a small truck containing all of Cadence’s worldly possessions. She was free to “explore her delusions,” they’d said smugly, feeling confident that the real world would soon kick some sense into her.

Along with her belongings, they handed her marriage annulment paperwork, so that when she’s had enough, she can clear up her mess and come crawling back to the family estate with her tail between her legs, ready to satisfy their contractual obligations by accepting Vince as her husband.

They still believe her marriage to Marlee is a sham, and Marlee can’t help but wonder how they’ll feel when Cadence fails to return home after three, four, five, six months, and continues to thrive outside the bubble of their money.

Moreover, she’d love to see the looks on their faces when the Cartwrights finally lose their patience and slap them with a breach of contract lawsuit to the tune of two point five million pounds—some small punishment for their cruelty and ignorance.