The Good Sister: Part One (32 page)

“Reid, tell me.”

Reid turned from my gaze.

“I lost track after…” he hesitated, “one hundred and four.”

“And never have you felt anything for them? Not even one of them, not even my sister?” I asked, but inside that number rattled through my head. One hundred and four.

“No. Just you, Trinity,” he said.

“But you have never actually been with me.”

“I have been with you,” he said, “but in a much different way.”

“Yeah, you like making me come by going down on me.”

“I have to admit I do like that,” he agreed, “but I mean here.” He placed my small hand to his heart. I closed my eyes and felt the beating of it.

“But it’s not enough,” I said.

“Maybe,” Reid replied.

“What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “But I want to hear everything, including what happened to your glasses.”

So after a deep breath I told him everything: How I’d suspected he was here at this chateau, how I had eye surgery, how I spent weeks working on leaving the grounds, how I plotted to get to France, how I took a flight, met up with Jacqueline by a fluke and how I met up with him again that night at the party when I was dressed in white.

“The ghost come to life,” I said.

“And Archer?” Reid asked.

“He has asked me to go with him to a charity ball in England. He’s coming to escort me at the end of the month.”

“So you are going with him?”

I touched Reid’s frowning brow with a fingertip. “Yes, Reid.”

“Trinity, if I leave, go back home, will you come with me, not stay here?”

“No,” I said.

“What are you going to tell your mother? You can’t stay here forever.”

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“You aren’t intending to stay here with Jacqueline, are you?”

“Not in the way you believe. I never intended to partake in the business, Reid, I only wanted to find you, make you want me.”

He took a breath.

“I have always wanted you, Trinity.” He paused, scrubbing the nape of his neck with his fingers. “I still cannot believe you did this.”

“Sometimes I can’t believe I did this either, but I’m not ready to go home. I’m not ready to give up on you,” I admitted.

“What do you mean?”

“Regardless of how I feel or what I want, you need to find some sort of balance for your sinner and your saint. You can’t go through life without loving or being loved in return, Reid. At some point, what you are doing is going to make you feel empty inside.”

“And what if I can’t find that balance?”

“But what if you can?”

Reid kissed me long and hard. He tugged my head forward, securing me with his hand, and plunged into my mouth, almost punishing.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling back from my lips. “I’m sorry.”

“Reid?”

“What?”

“Why? Can you tell me why?”

“I’m not sure why. Sometimes I want to hurt them. Other times I want to hurt myself, but I never feel what should be felt. I don’t feel closeness, nor love or tenderness, only the need to take, control, inflict my will. It’s like a drug. I can’t get enough. The rush I feel when tying a woman up, when taking them in brutal ways is like an endorphin rush or like I have one long prolonged orgasm. I don’t understand it totally, and I don’t know why, Trinity.”

“And it has always been this way?”

“Yes, but the more I feed my need, the more I need to feed, like an addict.”

“And the first time you had sex, was it that way?”

Reid was quiet for a moment, his hand roaming over my hip. “You don’t want to hear this, Trinity.”

“Yes, tell me.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t need to hear it,” he said.

“Okay, Reid. I won’t push.”

“Thank you.” He sat up from the bed. “Put something on, and walk with me downstairs. It’s hard for me to be here with you, knowing you are naked under that sheet,” he admitted, “and if John Paul hasn’t left me here, he soon will.”

I flipped back the sheet, stood up, and walked over to my armoire without covering my body. I grabbed some jogging pants along with a baby blue T-shirt, and slipped them on. I turned to find him staring. I smiled.

“You truly are beautiful, Trinity,” he said, buttoning up his jeans.

“As are you, Reid.”

He chuckled wickedly. “Are demons beautiful?”

“They were once angels,” I replied. “Why do you think you are a demon?”

“Do you want to hear the truth?”

“Yes.”

“Because I want tear those jogging pants from your body, bend you over that table,” he motioned with his chin, “and fuck you. It’s not love. It’s not making love. I want to fuck your sweet pussy long and hard. I want to feel your pussy swell around me as I pound into you. I want to fuck you until you scream and come around my cock.” I watched the harshness of his face as he said this. “And that tight untouched ass of yours,” Reid continued in a deep tone, “I want to fuck it, too.” Reid kept his flaming gaze upon my face. “These are the things I think of, Trinity.” He stopped for a moment.

“Reid—”

“I don’t think of softness, tender kisses, whisper soft caresses or murmurs of loving words in the dark. I think of other things.”

I glanced down. His cock was pressing hard against his jeans. “Yet you don’t do it, not to me.”

“Trinity, you don’t understand how I could hurt you. You don’t understand the things I have done,” he said, tugging me to the mirror. “Look at yourself,” he demanded, standing behind me. “Look how small your body is compared to mine. I could hurt you so easily. Your first time should be slow and loving, not pounding and harsh.” Reid stared into the reflection of my face, my eyes. “Trinity,” he said, “you should be loved, not bound and fucked.”

I touched his face, but never said a word.

“Come on,” he said, taking my hand and heading for the door.

We walked hand in hand into the parlor. Everyone had assembled as though they were having a strategic meeting of the minds. Immediately everyone looked at me then to Reid.

“John Paul, are you ready to go?” Reid asked.

“Oui,” he said.

“My petit, you are alright?” Jacqueline asked.

“I’m fine, Jacqueline.”

Reid leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I’ll speak with you soon,” he assured before letting go of my hand.

“Sure,” I said.

“It is good to finally know the name to the face,” John Paul said to me. “I am sure we will meet again.”

“Jacqueline,” Reid called out before leaving. “Trinity is a very important person in my life.” Jacqueline nodded in response. “As such I am entrusting her safety to you while under your roof.”

“Of course, Reid.”

“And I am also expecting her not to be offered up to the highest bidder.”

“Trinity,” Jacqueline said, looking at me instead of Reid. “Is it your wish to be offered up to any of our gentleman suitors?”

“No,” I said.

Jacqueline smiled smugly as she glanced over to Reid. “You have your answer, Reid.”

“Good,” he said.

“Come, Reid,” John Paul said, giving Reid a swat to his shoulder, “I am expecting guests, and I do not wish to be late.”

“Trinity, you must tell us what happened with Reid,” Ceclie said, obviously beating out the others with the need for explanations.

“We cannot wait to hear,” Desiree and Domonique said in unison.

Ambre asked, “Are you still intact?”

I walked over to take a seat by the fire. Jacqueline closed the parlor room doors before she glided effortlessly across the floor. I imagined if I were able to watch Jacqueline for another fifty years, I would never get over how graceful Jacqueline was when she moved. It was like a breeze or a whisper in the wind.

“I pushed him,” I said. “I baited him, taunted him, exposed my naked body, and offered myself to him. But he still wouldn’t take me.”

“You could have been hurt, raped…” Jacqueline alleged.

“It was a possibility,” I admitted. “At one point I really feared he was going to hurt me, but he didn’t hurt me, he couldn’t. He thinks of himself as a monster, a demon without the ability to stop his dark hunger to control, possess, and dominate. He won’t tell me where this need comes from, and he looks at it as a dark addiction. He told me he can never love me like I should be loved. And in so many words, he could never be faithful. Reid said, ‘he would break my heart.’”

“Maybe there is hope for him after all,” Breeze said.

“I told him that, Breeze. I told him he needed to find a balance in his life, and no matter what I wanted or what I feel, he needs to find a way to care for someone, to love someone. He doesn’t believe himself capable of love, of feeling.” I frowned.

“What is it, Trinity?” Jacqueline asked.

“He doesn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me either. He says he wants me to make a better decision than him. To find someone who will love me completely, yet he doesn’t really want that either.”

“And what did you tell him?” Amelia asked.

“I told him I could not stay a virgin forever. He said he knew that, then admitted he would be jealous of any other man, hate me, hate the other man. I don’t understand all of it. I still don’t understand him. I want to try to help him.”

“You may never fully understand, my petit,” Jacqueline interjected, “but you cannot live your life in a limbo waiting for Reid Addison either. Have you not already lived within a limbo?”

“Yes.”

Jacqueline reached out, and touched my cheek. “I believe Lord Archer has feelings for you, my petit.”

“Jacqueline, if he does, what about you? Don’t you still love him?”

Jacqueline smiled. “A part of me will always love Lord Archer, just as a part of you will always love Reid. I believe it has something to do with the unattainable, and never fully gaining our desire.”

“And it won’t hurt you, to see me with him?”

“No. I wish for his happiness, and someday you will wish for Reid’s.”

“I do wish for Reid’s happiness.”

“But it would hurt you to see his happiness obtained with another, oui?”

I bowed my head. “I think it would. But there’s something about Lord Archer. I feel something. Maybe not like I feel for Reid, but I cannot lie and say I feel nothing for Lord Archer.”

“You need never lie,” Amelia assured, “your heart will show you the truth even though your head may fight against the truth, but your body…” Amelia smiled. “Your body will bend to the will of the heart.”

“How do you give yourselves to men and not feel? I mean, how do you separate the pleasure your body feels from the love your heart feels?” I asked.

“My petit,” Jacqueline said, “everyone in this room has suffered much heartache. You should be glad you do not know how to sever the tie between the body and the heart. No one in this room wishes you to.” Jacqueline stood. “Let us get on with our day without such woeful thoughts.” She walked over to an easel, and pulled back the piece of material that covered it. “Look.”

Everyone stood, including me. We gazed at the painting John Paul had completed.

“It is fabulous,” said Amelia.

Various voices echoed through the room with a resounding, “Yes.”

“It is quite a vision,” Jacqueline assured. “I am thinking of giving it to Lord Archer as a birthday gift.”

“His birthday?” I said.

“Yes. I believe he will be quite pleased to have this gift,” Jacqueline replied, confidently.

“When is his birthday?”

“In June,” Jacqueline said, “right after the masquerade.”

“Masquerade?” Was I a mimicking parrot?

“Oui, my petit. The first week in June has always been celebrated in honor of Lord Archer, his return from the Royal Navy, and his birthday. Everyone comes, and it is always a masquerade ball.”

“Oh,” I said.

“Don’t you like the painting?” Jacqueline asked. “You have afforded it barely a glance.”

“It is beautiful. Just hard to believe that’s me.”

“It is you, in splendid youth, flawless beauty, endless sensuality, and goddess quality, my petit. Revel in your attributes, captured for all time upon this canvas.”

I glanced at the writing on the bottom of the painting over John Paul's signature. “What do the words at the bottom mean?”

“Ah …
La Bonne Sœur. It means the good sister,” Jacqueline replied.

“The good sister,” I echoed, remembering L.J., how he called me the good sister, thinking it odd, a quirk,
a twist of fate?
“Why did John Paul name the painting that?”

Jacqueline smiled. “My petit, it is quite simple. For you are the purity among the sin.”

****

Over the next few days I spent one-on-one time with my sisters, learning, listening, and reading. They talked on politics, world events, art, literature, as well the royal hierarchy of England. There was much more involved than addressing Ashton as Lord. Ashton was in actuality an Earl. Ashton’s father, a Duke. I also learned Lord Archer, or my Ashton as I was beginning to think of him, was to be the next Duke of Buckinghamshire’s heir, not Gavin.