Draping the dress across her arm, Cassandra picked up the lantern and walked over to the dressing table and mirror. Seeing her shadowed image in the mirror, she found the reflection before her looked as if it were made to fit the dress she held up in front of her perfectly.
Chapter 8
Bloody hell!
Garrett slipped through the door without a sound, leaving CJ to her thoughts. He’d been so absorbed in her that he’d forgotten about this evening’s lesson with Lady Claybrook. Claybrook had sent his young bride to him for training in the ways of lovemaking. A virgin on her wedding night, Vanessa Claybrook took to her lessons quickly after some sweet persuasion by Garrett. Her youthful innocence an element not found in his other clients, he’d looked forward to seeing her once a week.
This night she was nothing but a pest he’d have to discharge of as soon as he could. He had a woman in his bedchamber who’d somehow managed to capture
him…instead of the other way around. Garrett needed to figure out how the CJ of the future had become the CJ of the past. What kind of witchcraft had brought her to him on this of all nights?
One hundred years ago this day, he’d watched Victoria burn to death. One hundred years ago this very night, he’d made a pact that cost him his existence…and soul.
Why after four hundred years did this woman from the future seek him out? Or had she? She certainly didn’t seem pleased to be strung across his bed like an animal skin.
Garrett took a deep breath to calm his quaking desire, and then pulled open the door.
“Lord Claybrook! What a surprise to find you instead of your lovely wife.” Garrett pulled the door open further, “Please, do come in. I hope your presence here doesn’t mean that Lady Claybrook has taken ill.”
With hesitation, the lanky Lord Claybrook stepped across the threshold into the shop. “No, she’s quite well. In fact, a little too well.” The blush of embarrassment seeped up Claybrook’s rigid facial features.
“Then how can I be of service to you, my Lord.” The man had something on his mind, and Garrett needed to find out one way or another if his own existence was in danger. “It is quite unusual to find the husband of a student at my door at this late hour.”
“Yes, yes…well the truth of the matter is this,” Claybrook walked further into the dimly lit room, before pulling an article from one of the many shelves. “You have done such a wonderful job with Vanessa,…er, Lady Claybrook…may I speak freely Mr. Alexander?”
“Why of course, speak as freely as you’d like. There are many secrets told here, my Lord, none of which have gone beyond these walls.” Garrett closed the door wondering if he should make a dash out the back while he could. If Claybrook’s being here was a set up, then Garrett had to protect himself as best he could. His existence would not end in a ring of fire as those before him.
“I have come to, shall we say, appreciate the knowledge my young bride has acquired. My deepest fear now is whether or not I can give her the same appreciation of my body that she gives me of hers.” Claybrook looked like a young man about to go into his first whorehouse.
Garret should have been surprised by Claybrook’s concern, yet wasn’t. Vanessa Claybrook had been an innocent beauty when she’d wed the formidable Charles Claybrook, ten years her senior. Through Garrett’s teachings, she’d turned into a knowledgeable beauty who would no doubt seek out a lover if Claybrook couldn’t satisfy her growing sexual needs.
“I am sure your concerns are unfounded, Lord Claybrook. Your wife loves you dearly, she told me so many times over the past months.” Garrett took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, motioning for Claybrook to do the same.
“Yes, yes.” Claybrook flopped down on the cushion, like a man with many things on his mind and confused by them. “Well that is what I pray for, Mr. Alexander. You have been so thorough with your teachings; my concern now lies on my own ability to pleasure Vanessa. I know of nowhere else to turn which is discreet, and offered in the shadows of the night.”
“What are you suggesting, sir? That I teach you the art of properly fucking your wife so that she doesn’t take a lover?”
Claybrook’s back visibly stiffened. Garrett knew instantly it was exactly what high classed Lord Charles Claybrook intended to request this night. Why else would Claybrook visit him in the middle of the night instead of going to one of the many whorehouses in the city?
“Sir! You need not be so crude.” Claybrook pounded his fist on the arm of the high-backed chair. “I simply am inquiring on how I might come about such knowledge, Mr. Alexander. I am not suggesting that you provide me these teachings.”
“Then just what are you suggesting, Lord Claybrook? From where I sit, it certainly appears to be the circumstance.” Garrett knew from the rush of red up Claybrook’s neck that he had indeed intended to ask for his assistance. He couldn’t wait to see how the highbrow Lord Claybrook would ask for his help…as he surely would before stepping back out into the street and the dark of night.
The luxury of the fine silk settled itself around Cassandra’s body, giving her a feeling of wealth and stature. Everything about the garment from the rich, deep purple in-laid bodice to the tapered waist fit her perfectly, as if the dress had been made for her and no one else.
Where did this Mr. Alexander find a seamstress who would make a gown to fit so perfectly? In fact, how did he get the precise measures to even commission someone to attempt the task?
Paige must have given him several pieces of her clothing as samples. It’s all in her little scheme of things. Cassandra never realized her masturbating bothered Paige that much. If she ever got out of here, she’d apologize to her longtime friend…right after she gave her what not for putting her in this situation to begin with.
No one but Paige knew of Cassandra’s fear of being restrained and powerless…at the total mercy of someone else.
Wish I never told her about that damn dream. It had been so real. I could feel the ropes around my wrists and ankles, the slivers of wood penetrating my back…the fear of torches coming too close.
She chased away the shiver of fear creeping up her spine and wiped at the tear slipping down her cheek caused by the memory of her nightmare. The recurring dream first came after they’d initially toured the old warehouse as a possible location for their new business venture. She’d never said anything to Paige, thinking it was a one-time nightmare.
A few months later, after they’d moved into the old warehouse and were finishing up the renovations, it happened again. Only this time she’d fallen asleep in a chair in the middle of the afternoon. When she’d finally realized what had happened, she was curled up on the floor in Paige’s arms.
Even now, the smell of her own fear filled Cassandra’s nostrils and perspiration beaded on her upper lip. If she allowed it to overtake her, there’d be no way for her to defend herself. She’d be nothing but putty to the man who held her captive. How could Paige do such a thing to her?
At least she’d been able to sleep through the night for the past week or two. Well, as peaceful as a woman could with the sexual dreams she’d been having. The recurrence of her fantasy lover with his long dark hair, velvet blue eyes and expert way of touching her did more to ease the sexual tension in her body that anything else ever did. Good thing he’s only a fantasy and not real…she’d never be able to live up to his expertise.
“Hah” she laughed aloud, then turned to look out the only window in the room. “It’s your own manipulations that have satisfied you, not those of a man. At least not a man of flesh and bone.”
A cloud passed over the moon, casting the room into momentary darkness.
Victoria, have you finally really come back to me?
Garrett stood in the shadows watching CJ. The moonlight shimmered off her honey colored hair like glistening snow.
How can this be? This woman from the future cannot be my beloved Victoria. Once condemned, always condemned.
“You look beautiful, Mistress Jameson.” Garrett now stood only an arm’s length from her. All he had to do was reach out, take her in his arms and love her like he did a hundred years ago. He just couldn’t shake the feeling his heart believed CJ and Victoria were one in the same, even though his mind told him it was impossible for such a thing to happen. “The color and fit suits you.”
“Yes, perfectly. A little too perfectly, if you ask me.” She turned from the window to face him in the shadows. The shadows he clung miserably too all these years. Now all he wanted to do was reach out in the light of day and feel once again. Feel Victoria’s love, her soft body and sweet innocence…innocence she was denied before her time.
Garrett shook off the feeling and walked through the shadows towards CJ. “I am at a loss at what you mean, Mistress Jameson.”
“Would you stop calling me that? It makes me feel like a woman from hundreds of years ago.” Cassandra stepped out of the moonlight, away from Garrett’s dark shadow. “Either call me CJ or by my given name…Cassandra.”
Cassandra
. Her name like sweet honey filled him with warmth. “As you wish…Cassandra.” Garrett took Cassandra by the elbow, smiling when she flinched at his touch.
“Listen, Mr. Alexander…” She turned her head from him, the moonlight falling upon the small half-moon mark at her temple.
“You must call me Garrett,” He pulled her gently to her feet and led her toward the door. “No need to worry, Cassandra. I won’t hurt you.”
How could I when I’ve loved no other for a life time?
He led her around the bed as the lantern lost its light, enveloping them in the moonlight.