Cadence of My Heart (3 page)

Bye-bye, Marlee.

Hello, Adulthood.

At most, they have only a year or so left in each other’s company, and Marlee intends to treasure every minute of it. Right now, she wants to hold Cadence firmly against her breast and confess how absolutely petrified she is of what the future might bring for them both … but that would be unspeakably unprofessional. She can’t admit that, nor confide how she sometimes cries into her pillow at night because of it. Instead, she must give Cadence courage.

“Everything will work out for the best.” She wrangles Cadence’s hair into a new, tidy ponytail and straightens her bangs. “I feel certain of it.”

“How come this is all happening so soon?” Cadence’s lipstick-smeared bottom lip trembles. “My cousin Julia didn’t have her first debutante party until she was seventeen.”

“Obviously your mother thinks you’re already mature enough.”

“Horseshit.” Cadence clambers off the bed. “She just wants rid of me.”

“Watch your mouth,” Marlee reprimands her feebly.

“I’m not for sale, Marlee.” Cadence is on the verge of tears, begging for reassurance. “I want to be with someone I love.”

A natural but hopeless wish, Marlee thinks, loving how her name sounds as it tumbles off Cadence’s tongue. Cadence’s accent is thoroughly British, but she rolls the ‘r’ like her American father does, making it sound soft and warm: Marrrrrrlee. Like a kitten purring.

She wishes she had something comforting to say, but the sad truth is that Cadence has no choice in the matter. All decisions relating to her marriage and future life will be made by her parents, and for whatever reason, they’ve chosen to start the hunt early.

Summer holidays should be a time for fun and games, lazy mornings, and late nights. Cadence gets six whole weeks off school after finishing her GCSE examinations, but while other kids her age are going to water parks and funfairs, she’s going to be worrying about whether or not she’s about to be sold into someone else’s bed. It’s really not fair.

Cadence hangs on Marlee’s arm, leading her from one clothing store to another. She might not like the idea of the debutante party, but she’s still a teenage girl: she likes shopping.

Marlee sticks with her wherever she wants to go, giving advice here and there about what sort of dress she should pick, and Cadence absorbs every word. Marlee’s not simply telling her what might look good draped on her slender frame, but whether she realizes it or not, she’s also spilling details about her own personal tastes in women’s clothing. Cadence is gleaning valuable information.

“What if I don’t even want to marry a boy?” she says suddenly, as a satin wedding gown in a bridal store window nabs her attention, reminding her of her impending fate. “Did anyone bother to think of that?”

Marlee hadn’t, but she is now. Was that supposed to be a hint? What does it mean? Doesn’t Cadence like boys? Is Cadence gay? Shit.

“Ooh!” Cadence practically dives into another store. “In here!”

Marlee follows her inside, somewhat stupefied. If Cadence isn’t making a big deal out of it, then neither should she, but the thought of it is now stuck in her head like superglue.

Cadence. Gay. Really?

That loop keeps repeating, and she lets Cadence take the lead as they wander up and down seemingly endless clothing aisles, gathering an armful of possibilities. One of these is bound to be a hit. Surely?

She makes herself comfortable in a padded chair outside the changing rooms, resting her aching feet, waiting for Cadence to model for her—and Cadence takes great pleasure in doing so. Tirelessly, she tries on one dress after another, checking Marlee’s reaction each time.

To the first one: “That’s cute, darling.”

Cute? Cadence pulls a face. Kittens and puppies are cute.

To the second: “You look adorable.”

Ugh. That’s even worse than cute! Little girls are adorable, and she definitely doesn’t want to look like a little a girl. Especially not in front of Marlee.

The third and fourth receive similar feedback, but when she puts on the fifth—a black, asymmetrical dress with one lace sleeve, one bare shoulder, and a slanted hemline with a lace trim—she finally gets the result she’s hoping for.

“You look …” Marlee’s voice trails off, her eyes roaming up and down.

Revelation number one: Holy shit, Cadence looks like a woman! The dress hugs her curves, accentuating every single one of them. As she bends to pick up a fallen clothes hanger, she points her ass in Marlee’s direction and revelation number two hits: Cadence has an ass!

Aware that her mouth’s stopped moving and no sounds are coming out, Marlee sighs deeply and smiles, words utterly failing her.

Cadence beams. “This is the one!”

No argument whatsoever from a very speechless Marlee. While she pays for it on Mister Ashlock’s credit card—which she’s authorized to use for any and all expenditures relating to the care and maintenance of Cadence—she spies her blossoming charge perusing the underwear aisle with casual interest. The
sexy
underwear aisle.

Damn.

“What’re you looking at?” Marlee meets her in the aisle, intending to coax her out of the store before anything catches her eye.

“Can I get some new underwear?” Cadence flicks through a rack of black lace push-up bras, trying to imagine what she’d look like in them.

“Whatever for?” Marlee tries to keep any and all thoughts of Cadence and underwear out of her head. “You have lots of underwear. We just replaced all your bras.”

“Yeah, but it’s all so … kiddy.” Cadence frowns forlornly. Right now, she’s wearing plain white cotton undies. How dull and uninspiring.

“Kiddy?” Marlee questions.

Cadence holds up a rather lacy pair of knickers, demonstrating the very opposite. “I want something like this.”

Marlee feels a flash of heat in her cheeks and tries to ignore it. “Don’t you think you’re a little young for this sort of thing?”

“I’m sixteen!”

“Almost, but not quite, and even then …”

“Come on, Marlee.” Cadence peers up at Marlee with moon-shaped, pleading eyes. “Don’t you think I’d look pretty in them?”

Marlee starts to feel a little weak in the knee area, her stilted answer coming out in three broken, disjointed stages:

“That’s not the point.” It really isn’t.

“You look pretty in everything.” She really does.

“Your parents would kill me.” They really would.

She dreads to think how it would look if they found sexy lingerie like that on the expenses receipts she has to submit at the end of every month.

“How are they ever going to know?” Cadence persists, completely ignorant of the financial hoops Marlee has to jump through. “It’s not like they do my laundry, or come into my room, or talk to me.”

Oh, no. There’s the impossible-to-ignore, emotional manipulation tactic. Marlee’s vulnerable to it at the best of times, but now, with the image of Cadence wearing that dress still burning brightly in her mind, making her thoughts muddled, her recently awakened body waging war with all that remains of her common sense, she’s positively helpless. Consequently, the words that end up leaving her lips next are disowned by her brain immediately.

“If you’re going to get the knickers, you have to get the matching bra, too.”

A tiny voice inside her head starts to scream, begging for her to stop. This is madness, she thinks, paying for both items on her personal credit card. In the entire two and a half years preceding this moment, the only things she’s ever purchased on her own card to avoid being detected by her employers have been the occasional ice cream treat and one or two 18A movies.

“Please don’t tell your parents,” she begs Cadence needlessly as they leave the store.

As if she would.

Cadence loves the thought of keeping a secret with Marlee.

Especially a sexy secret.

Quivering inside her push-up bra and gossamer knickers, Marlee hangs the debutante party dress inside the door of Cadence’s closet, making sure it’s perfectly flat so that it won’t crease. It’s a beautiful garment, made even more beautiful when Cadence’s svelte body is filling it out.

Positively vibrating with a profound—albeit illicit—hunger for the surprisingly womanly body of her young charge, she presses a hand to her chest, trying to quell the rapidly beating heart within. Quivering? Over Cadence? How could she! Perhaps it’s been too long since she’s had a proper opportunity to satisfy certain physical desires. She needs a release.

Her last session with Rachel had been entirely one-sided, and without climax for either of them. She should’ve known there wouldn’t really be enough time to accomplish anything significant in the short window they had, but she was exceptionally horny and willing to take whatever she could get. Maybe they’ll have an opportunity for a do over tomorrow night, while Cadence is at her debutante party. She damn well hopes so. She can’t take much more of this.

“What will you be wearing to the party?” Cadence asks, hanging her head off the side of the bed, looking at Marlee upside down.

“Oh, darling.” Marlee closes the closet door, banishing the dress from sight. “I’m afraid I won’t be attending with you.”

Cadence flips over onto her front, rising to all fours. “Why not?!” Pure outrage.

“I wasn’t invited to this one.” Marlee approaches the bed, picking up items of strewn clothing along the way. “You know I don’t always get to accompany you to family events.”

“But you
do
always chaperone me at parties.” Cadence pouts, rising to her knees at the foot of the bed, outstretching her arms for a cuddle.

Marlee tosses the clothes in the laundry basket and gives herself to Cadence, welcoming two spaghetti noodle arms around her neck. “This time, I think they want to make sure their esteemed guests see you as a woman, not as a child who still needs a nanny.”

That gives Cadence some pause for thought.

Then, while keeping Marlee in a tight hold, “What do you see me as?”

Feeling the tickle of arousal stirring in her loins again, Marlee dare not say what she really feels. Sometimes, Cadence can behave in such a childlike manner: demanding to be tucked into bed at night, insisting on having her hair brushed, refusing to pick up after herself. But how much of that is genuine immaturity? Marlee’s begun to harbor a suspicion that Cadence is deliberately clinging to old habits, simply to ensure that their relationship remains symbiotic.

It’s different when she’s not striving for attention. When she’s not so anxious about losing her nanny’s interest, she’s an articulate, expressive young woman with a cheeky sense of humor and a captivating disposition. Little does she know that her increasing age and maturity makes her no less appealing to Marlee. In fact, it’s proving to have quite the opposite effect.

As Marlee places her hands on Cadence’s waist, she can’t stop imagining her wearing that dress. There was no trace of a child earlier in the clothing store. Still, she can’t admit that to her. Not outright. Instead, she settles for an answer that’s both truthful and flattering, without being in any way unbefitting.

“I see you more like a young woman and less like a child every day.”

Pleased enough to hear even such a small pinch of appreciation for her rocketing ascent into womanhood, Cadence pulls Marlee completely into the embrace and squeezes the air out of her lungs. “I like that.”

“Me, too, sweetheart,” Marlee whispers quietly, relishing the close contact.

“Are you sure you won’t come to the party?” Cadence’s voice is muffled against Marlee’s neck, lips grazing skin.

“I can’t, darling.” Marlee suppresses a shiver. “Your parents don’t want me there.”