Tommy Patel Rainbow Butterfly Piece Bournemouth felt pretty damn well satisfied with his life at this point in time.  He had everything he could possibly dream of: a gorgeous manor, lots and lots of money, a few loyal friends, a staff full of obedient servants, an array of fancy cars, a royal English title…  Yes, life was perfect.

Well, almost perfect.  There was one thing that his life lacked that he yearned for, but he had learned how to live without it.  That one thing was none other than love.

He had been married for over a year now to Angela Thomas, now Mrs. Bournemouth, and now a duchess.  And though he was rather fond of her, and she of him, there was no flame, no burning passion.  No fireworks burst into the skies in colors abound when they kissed, and there certainly had been a prolonged absence of sex.  (To be truthful, they’d only done it once, and both had agreed that it had been horrid- and that was that.)

Tommy hated himself for it, but practically daily he found himself wishing for Kitty.  He longed to feel her electric touch again… to be up against her… to nibble on her sweet skin…  But she was lost to him forever, for she was in love (and not to mention married) to Henry, and had refused him more than once.  She was beyond his reach, that priceless jewel he could never have.

But, other than love, life was pie!

*****

Tommy yawned obnoxiously and rolled his eyes.  He was dressed in a fine suit of pure white and gold, the trimming studded with diamonds while a small crown rested on his flowing blonde hair.  Angelina, in a dress of gold, wore a tiara and had gingerly linked arms with Tommy, a forced smile spread across her features.  Tommy, however, couldn’t even smile on this Monday morning no matter how hard he tried.  He would much rather still be in bed and deeply asleep at this early hour.

Yet his presence was ‘called for’.  It was a royal gathering of sorts where lords and ladies of the high upper classes all met to exchange greetings and then commence in bragging of their wealth and most recent political accomplishments.  Tommy hated such events- they were so bloody boring and droll!  But he could not escape it nor complain, for it was something that came hand-in-hand with being a duke.  He only wished his party guests weren’t so stiff and morbid.

Nevertheless, he nodded and pretended to accept each guest as finely-dressed person after person entered his home.  Why the event had to be at his manor, Saddlers, at this time of the day was beyond him, and it annoyed him thoroughly.  He sighed heavily as Angela, too, yawned, daintily covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

At last, after what seemed like hours, everyone as inside, the noise level already sky-rocketing.  Tommy finally forced himself to smile, acknowledging people that he passed with inaudible ‘hellos’, his eyes glued to the floor.  At one point Angela was pounced upon by a flock of girls in poofy, neon-colored dresses, and they dragged her away, rendering Tommy alone.

He stood, feeling helpless, in the middle of the room.  People continually stared at him, then quickly averted their eyes as to not be caught in the act of their gazing.  Others mingled and wandered about, but most stayed in tight-knit groups, whispering and chattering, the ladies hiding their lips behind over-sized fans.

“Tommy, Tommy Bournemouth!  My dear boy!  Come come- give Uncle Samson a hug!”

Tommy prickled and pivoted in place to come within inches of a huge, burly man with a thick black mustache and a bald, shiny head.  He wore a vest the same shade as his mustache with golden buttons that looked like they had been forced to come together with the cloth, the material stretching tight across his plump figure.  Before Tommy could say or do anything, two hands the size of frying pans wrapped over his shoulders and the man brought him in and began to squeeze so hard that Tommy began to turn violet from lack of oxygen.

When at last the man finally let him go, Tommy fell sideways, coughing and sputtering, gasping for air.  Rather than lend a helping hand, the man, whose name was Lionel Samson but was known to everyone as simply Uncle Samson, leaned over and slapped him roughly across the back.

“My boy, my boy, what are you doing grappling on the floor?  Get up, show some pride!  My my my…  This is your shindig, after all!  Stand up tall, boy, and dust off your suit!”

As Tommy clamored up, still fighting for air, Samson suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him up so abruptly that he felt his muscle pop.  He winced.

“You still with Angela, I see?  Yes, yes, an odd lamb, her, but tame nonetheless.  Still living well?  Eating well?  Wealthy well?  Good, good!”

And so he rambled on and on, and Tommy simply tuned him out so that his lips moved, but no sound escaped.  He instead simply stared at him with glassy eyes, unblinking, and feeling woozy and light-headed.

And then, his head lifted, and a different sensation crept over and through his body, one that tingled and jolted straight up his spine.  He found himself staring helplessly into two pools of chocolate brown, and his gaze traveled downwards to take into full account the figure of an amazingly dazzling diva.

She was slender and thin, yet muscularly built in the arms and legs, with all the right things in all the right places.  A tight-skinned dress of deep scarlet complimented her figure perfectly and shone with a radiance of its own.  Her hair, which was so dark of color it was almost black, had only a rose stuck in sideways for an ornament.  Tommy could almost feel the drool running out of his mouth, his jaw unhinged and hanging open, dragging on the floor.  Even Kitty could not compare to this.

“Ah, Tommy!  May I introduce you to my niece, the lady Gabrielle?”

“My pleasure,” muffled out Tommy, and accepted her extended hand and gently laid his lips to her delicate, smooth skin.  She only but smiled at him, one eyebrow slightly lifted in curiosity.

“You may call me Rielle,” she said calmly, her glossy lips now upturned to form a smirk.  “And you are-?”

“Tommy, Duke of Bournemouth.”

“Well, Tommy, Duke of Bournemouth… would you like to accompany me for a drink?”

“I uh… certainly.”  Tommy’s eyes darted about, and Angela was no where to be found.  So he excused himself from Samson and found Rielle taking his arm and dragging him away.  He rather enjoyed being dragged.

Of all the woman at the gathering, there was none that even could be compared to Gabrielle.  On a scale of one to ten, she was one hundred.  In other words, she was dynamite, and even to be in her presence made Tommy weak at the knees, a helpless puppy being lead on a new chained leash that Gabrielle had ironed.

They approached the drinks table and each chose a glass.  Tommy usually didn’t care for alcohol so early in the day, but he didn’t want to deny spending a moment with this goddess that heaven had sent to Earth.  And after they had downed their first glass, Gabrielle reached for another, and Tommy did the same.  To his disbelief, she took another, and he imitated, not wanting to back down from her unspoken challenge.  She certainly could hold her liquor, and while they sipped, they chatted merrily like old friends.  Tommy suddenly heard himself spilling out his soul and deepest feelings to her, telling the story of his abandonment as a baby an being raised in an Asian family up until a few years ago.  He told her of Kitty and Henry, and how he still longed for Kitty to return to him and leave Henry, and how Henry was still as obnoxious as ever.

As he gulped another glass, Gabrielle led him away from the crowd and they snuck out the back door, down the pebbled path, past the garden, and into the grove.  All the while Tommy still continued to gab, him now being the only one talking, Gabrielle listening intently as he rolled along at a vigorous pace.  She kept smiling at him and nodding her head as she pulled him down on the grass, and handed Tommy yet another beverage.  He greedily snatched it and chugged it like a beer.  Smacking his lips in satisfaction, he looked at Gabrielle longingly for another, but instead she took back the now-empty glass, and threw it over her shoulder so that it flew and hit a rock and shattered into a thousand shards.  Tommy arched an eyebrow, and for unexplainable reasons, his heart began to race.

And in a blink of an eye, Gabrielle had flung herself on top of him, lips interlocked with his own, their hands desperately searching for one another.  Gabrielle arched her back and pressed into him, and Tommy would have let out a surprised gasp except that he was too busy kissing to breathe let alone use his vocal chords.  Her fingers crawled up from his neck and into his blonde locks, and Tommy closed his eyes and let her perform magic.

And as soon as it had begun, it was over.  As if a lightening bolt had struck him, he bolted upright, the whites of his eyes expanding a he fought to pry Gabrielle off of him.  He had already begun to sweat, but now that sweat had changed from excitement to fear.  Gabrielle, confused and more than slightly angry, hurriedly began fixing her dress as Tommy muttered to himself aloud.

“What am I doing?  What have I done?”  He let out a small hiccup.

“Well, nothing much yet,” Gabrielle growled grumpily while re-adjusting the rose in her hair.

“No… I can’t do this!  I shouldn’t be here… I’m a married man.”

“But you’re terribly unhappy.”

Tommy opened his mouth to contradict her, but he could not force himself to say it.  Instead, the words, “How do you know?” tumbled out.

“You told me yourself,” she hushed, inching closer once more.  “You told me everything.”

“I… I did?”  He held his head, his mind spinning and swimming in soup.

“It’s OK, ssssh.”  She put a finger to his lips.  “I can make you happy again.”

“I don’t even know you!” he exclaimed, feeling thoroughly ashamed with himself.

“You can come to know me.”

He paused and seemed to consider this.  His heart continued to race, but his mind was slowly beginning to de-cloud.  A cold, clammy feeling was creeping down his back as an image of Angela fluttered into his mind’s eye.  He shut his eyes and hung his head, trying to erase her pained expression he imagined.  He could not do this…  He was not the betraying type…

And yet… wasn’t love the thing he desired?  Wasn’t it what he wished for, the missing piece of the puzzle that was his life?  Wasn’t it the thing that made waking up each morning painful, knowing he didn’t have it, and seemingly, never would?

Love, what a silly word, Tommy he thought to himself, scoffing.  How can you jump to love so quickly, so immediately?  Isn’t it more lust than love, anyway?  How can you contemplate it?  You don’t even know who she is… nor her intentions.

And yet… he felt unafraid, bold, and daring.  He wanted to take a risk and inquire further into what Gabrielle had to offer.  It mattered not to him the question of why she’d taken to him so suddenly and immediately- the simple fact that she had done so was all that mattered.  And maybe she was that special something he’d been searching for.  Perhaps… life could have a meaning again.  All it required was for Tommy to be willing to take the chance.

“We can’t do this,” he finally said after a long interval of silence.

“What?  But-”

“Not here.  Not now.”  He ever-so-slightly tilted his head, eyes sparkling with meaning as he winked.

Gabrielle sat there, angered, but then understood.  “Oh- OH!  Yes.  Yes, I totally agree.  Then when… where…?”

“Come back here tonight about… eleven-thirty.  I will be waiting for you.”

“Yes…” she repeated.  “Eleven-thirty will be splendid.  I will come promptly.”  She pushed herself off the grassy floor and began to tidy herself.  Tommy did likewise, both avoiding the other’s gaze, even though their eyes kept darting to the other, and then instantly looking away again, as if embarrassed.

Once decent again, and after Gabrielle had picked a stray leaf from Tommy’s hair, they stood and faced one another in an awkward position.

“Why me?” Tommy sputtered out, out of the blue.

Gabrielle smirked and gripped his collar, bringing him in.  “You’ll find out tonight.”  And she kissed him tenderly on the lips.

*****

The ruby-studded clock in the bedroom read 10:35.  Tommy paced about, hands clasped behind his back, restlessly walking from one side of the room to the other, then back again.  He could not get the dazzling diva out of his mind, and it was driving him up the wall.  For the remainder of the day, he had been shaky and nervous, and avoided Angela like the plague.  He didn’t know how he would react when he would have to eventually face her.

As if on cue, Angela entered the room, tired and weary, her figure slumped and drooping, her legs dragging.  She sighed as one in discomfort, and acknowledged Tommy with only a nod as she adjourned to the shower.  Apparently, she had not noticed Tommy’s reaction of jumping a good two feet into the air when she had entered (and had consequently startled him).

Tommy forced himself to steady.  How pale in comparison Angela was to Gabrielle!  It was like placing a stone of granite next to a glorious diamond.  And yet, the gold-and-diamond ring he wore reminded him that he had said ’I do’ at the alter with her but only a few years ago…  And if he ever divorced her, the media would be all over him like a swarm of angry bees, stingers pointed downwards to sting him and to shred him apart.  Ever since he’d claimed his royal title, they’d been following him practically everywhere, and rarely was he safe from their cameras and microphones.  So he’d done his best over the months to give them as little to feast on as possible.

Time passed and Angela stepped out of the bathroom, wet hair wrapped in a fluffy towel and wearing a rather revealing violet nightdress.  Tommy felt himself quake a tad as she slyly approached him.

“You’re rather restless tonight,” she commented blandly, edging closer so that he could sniff her cinnamon hand-lotion.  “Anything troubling you?”  Her hand reached up and brushed his cheek, causing him to shudder and flinch.  She frowned, and turned from him to hide her hurt. 

Tommy realized his mistake and rushed in front of her.  “Nothing!  Nothing’s wrong, just a bit… tired.  Honestly.”  He tried to take her hand to add reassurance, but she drew back.

“Yes, I’m tired too.  Let’s go to bed.”  And with that, she strolled to the opposite side of the room and gingerly climbed under the covers of her king-sized four-poster bed and pulled the curtains around her.  Tommy sighed as someone defeated, and retreated to his own bed on the opposing side, but not before setting his watch, hidden under a pajama sleeve, to vibrate for 11:30.

*****

Tommy awoke with a jolt, sweat pouring down his forehead, heart racing in his chest.  He had just had a horrid vision… a nightmare, if you will, that had chilled him to the bone.  And yet, he found he could not describe it…  Darkness… a piercing cry… feeling himself falling… an evil laugh… someone sobbing…

He shook his head.  It was only a dream- nothing more.

After a good ten minutes of calming himself and returning to a fairly-normal state, erasing the last of the horrific images from his mind, he turned his head and glanced at his glowing, digital watch.  The time was precisely eleven- a little too early still to go and meet Gabrielle in the glade, but too late to try and claim any more sleep.

And he was too restless to stay in bed as well.  So, quietly, and with extreme caution, he slipped out of bed.  He was almost at the door when an invisible loop roped him, and pulled him back in.  He gazed deeply at Angela who looked so innocent, tender, and angelic through her transparent curtains.  And once again, he asked himself if he was doing the right thing.  Would he be able to live with his lie?  Would he still be able to truthfully call himself a decent human being?  What if Angela found out?  Would he ever be trusted again?  Would he be ashamed, and scarred, forever more?

And yet… what if he found the love of his life?  What if he found happiness?  Did not every man and woman have the right to pursue happiness?  Oh, what materialistic treasures he would give up for a single day of bliss!

With that thought in mind, he pushed forward and out of the door, bare feet slapping soundlessly against the polished, gleaming floor of the hallway.  Shadows licked the walls, and a glistening moon outside filtered just enough through the decorated windows to illuminate the numerous portraits that decorated the passageway.  Each portrait was of a Bournemouth ancestor, his entire family tree and heritage spread out before him like a book of genealogy with all its pages pasted on the walls.

He veered to the left and entered a room that was almost completely hidden in the darkness, though once you saw it, there was no mistaking it.  The door was pure gold, and its handle was carved out of emerald.  It was, in fact, his closet.

He undressed from his sleepwear and slipped into something casual and comfortable- jeans and a t-shirt.  He breathed deeply, relieved.  It felt nice to feel simple cotton once more, to be able to feel free to move.  Too often nowadays he was stuck into tight-fitting, classy outfits that were itchy, scratchy, and so fancy and dressy that you were afraid to do anything for fear of ruining it or obtaining a stain.  But now… oh no!  He could roll on the grass like a dog if he felt so inclined.

Already feeling better, he exited the walk-in closet, chest puffed out with a smile on his lips.

“Oooooofffff!”

Tommy felt himself smack hard into something solid one second, and was sprawled across the floor in a heap the next.  He groaned lowly, his head spinning, and heard a faint whimper behind him.  He attempted to untangle himself, only to find that he could not, and resulted in making a further mess of his situation.  His leg was twisted, and as he struggled to move it, something heavy shifted on top of it.  He craned his neck to turn and see, but he could not make out anything in the confusion and the darkness.

“Oh, sir, I’m so sorry sir!  Oh!  Oooh…”

Behind him (but not by very far) came a muffled voice that was distinctly female.  Tommy shuffled some more and somehow managed to break free, breathing heavily as an anxious sweat trickled down his brow.  Eyes adjusting to the darkness, he was faintly able to make out the image of a frail woman who looked much more like a girl than a grown adult.  She was struggling to reassert herself and smooth her simple pale blue frock.  Tommy recognized her after a moment of thinking.

“Leigh!” he exclaimed, a little annoyed and a little relieved,  “What in the…?”

“Please sir, oh please, I’m sorry!  Don’t fire me… please…”

Tommy glanced down to now see the young woman kneeling in front of him, her hands clapped together as if she was praying.  He shook his head at the rather pitiful sight, and extended his hand.  She at first viewed his polite gesture with caution, but then accepted, and rose to become almost exactly level as he.  She hung her head as one in shame.

“Don’t worry,” he said in a soothing, reassuring tone.  “I’m not going to fire you.”

“You’re… you’re not?” she asked with combined doubt and hope.

“Why would I?”  At that moment, his watch began to vibrate; it was time to go.

“Because I…”  She trailed off, blushing, but had caught that quick, worried glance Tommy had given his watch.  She couldn’t help but wonder why he was up and about at such an early hour, anyway.  But it was not her place to ask.  He was, after all, a duke and the master of the house, and could do as he pleased.

“Never mind.  It really doesn’t matter.  We’re both fine, right?”

“Well yes, I suppose-”

“Good.  Um… goodnight then, Leigh.  See you in the morning.”  And before she could utter another word, he had fled, hastily leaving the scene and the young woman alone in the dark, her frock rippling ever-so-slightly in an almost unnoticeable indoor breeze.

*****

Tommy whipped around yet another corner, only to fling himself against the wall, panting heavily.  His hand crept up his shirt and rested over his thundering heart.  That had felt extremely awkward… almost like a sign that was telling him not to go…

Yet after only a moment’s rest, he forged on, ignoring the throbbing pain in his lower back and right shoulder blade from the fall.  His left knee, he was sure, would be nice and purple by the morning as well.

He finally exited the grand mansion and gingerly stepped across the pathway, the coolness of the night nipping at his bare skin and increasing his awareness.  Once he abruptly halted, not daring to breathe as he thought he had heard something.  Perhaps it was Gabrielle?

He listened for a minute more, and when nothing arrived to his ears, he continued with a shrug, a chill running up his spine just at the simple thought of the fair maiden he was venturing to meet.  His pace quickened, his steps faster and longer.  Gabrielle… How he longed to feel her touch!

And then… there she was, a delicate angel in the moonlight, invisible wings spreading wide as a halo glistened with holiness over her head.  She beckoned Tommy, and he came obediently, the hint of a smile forming on his lips as he took her in.  He caught a whiff of crisp mint floating on a calm breeze as his eyes remained glued to the sleek figure underneath her see-through dress.

Their lips met before their arms, but once close enough, groped for the other with a vicious passion.  Tommy went lightheaded as his blood rushed downward, panting as Gabrielle suddenly turned to nipped his neck.  He gasped as she worked her way down, her hands of faerie magic making his mind swirl with wildness.  She pulled on him, and with a laugh of pleasure, the two of them toppled over into a pile of leaves, Gabrielle on top of him.  He grinned knowingly and started to take off his shirt, but Gabrielle snatched the fabric from him and ripped it off instead.  He arched an eyebrow at her tiger-like snarl as she pressed into him, hands eagerly undoing the zipper of his pants.  He playfully growled back and took her ear in his teeth, tugging, as one hand slid up and down her smooth, muscular back.

Not a moment later, the two were starch naked, their clothes having been carelessly cast aside like yesterday’s laundry.  They now made love in the leaves and grass, surrounded by nature and the beauty of the starry night.  The only sounds aside from their constant moans of explicit pleasure was the hooting of a distant howl as they continued their wild, savage, and excruciatingly delightful sex.  And the more they did, the more their bodies demanded of the other, both entangled in one another in more ways that one.  The sweat poured and trickled down them in a salty stream, but neither cared nor paid heed to it as they thrusted and lusted, consciousness shot into oblivion.

And this continued to last for a very long time, neither tiring.  All they understood was a world of bliss, too happy and breathless to stay in the simplicity of reality.

*****

It was dawn.  Tommy smacked his lips and rolled onto his opposite side, deep in the dream world.  The rays of the sun persisted him to awake, but he refused, and rolled over again, arms groping for something that was not there.  He reached out, but felt nothing, and it was rather this emptiness, not the sun, that finally forced his eyes to open.

Gabrielle was gone.

He instantly sat up, propping his elbows on the ground for support.  His skin prickled as goose bumps arose in the wee morning hours, and he suddenly felt rather exposed as he realized that he was still completely naked.  Groping for his clothes lying a few feet from him, he rushed to dress, not caring to be caught nude in his own grove and then be forced to give a valid explanation for it.

As he attempted to smooth the wrinkles from his shirt, he deeply inhaled the scent of the new day, and couldn’t help but smile.  Wow… what a night!  What a night indeed…  He’d been raised beyond the gates of heaven and had plummeted thrillingly back to Earth time and time again, never tiring of the endless pleasure.  It was exactly the escape he had been seeking, that blissful night of sex…

At first, he questioned himself on why Gabrielle had left without saying good-bye, but perhaps it was better that she hadn’t.  Perhaps now he could be happier and continue on with his life as normal.

But he knew this was false.  If anything, this had made him long for her ever more desperately.  He desired to claim her, to call her his own… to be able to protect her, to grant and fulfill her every wish… to be there to comfort her in night or day… to be hers, completely and utterly hers.

What if he never saw her again?  He couldn’t bear that.  True, he could possibly contact her through Uncle Samson somehow, but that would be a good way to allow suspicion for others, especially Angela.  So he resolved to just lie low and wait for her to one day return to him.  And if she didn’t… he would be lost to everyone, himself included.

Still taking in the beauty of the blossoming morning and new meaning of his surroundings, he at last pivoted and turned towards the manor.

“Tommy!”

He gave a shriek of startled fright and leapt a good three feet into the air, his thoughts rudely jolting from their peaceful, internal box to embrace the present.  Angela awaited him on the deck, her expression that of one of confusion.  She raised her eyebrows as Tommy collected himself, muttering under his breath how five years had just been knocked from his life.  Angela sighed and approached him, thoughtful, yet secretive.

“Why did I frighten you so?”

Tommy dared not look her in the eyes as he searched for a way to answer her.  He was afraid his spheres of blue would deceive him and relay unto Angela the truth he now hid.  Already the thorny rose of guilt had blossomed, despite the new bounce in his step.  How long before his composure broke, he did not know and only knew that he must prolong it as much as possible.

When Tommy never replied, Angela spoke again.  “Do you not remember agreeing to breakfast with me this morning in the grove?  Surely you recall…  It was only yesterday afternoon that I proposed it.”

Tommy froze and felt his cheeks flush.  He did his best to hide it but knew he was being as exposed as an open book.  “Well, uh… I…”  His eyes darted about, longing to contact with anything but Angela’s unwavering faze. Act calm… act normal…

“It’ll be so peaceful, don’t you think?”  She wrapped her arms around his waist, but it was more of a touch of a frozen corpse than that of warmth and love.  “Leigh has agreed to serve us; there will be toast, crumpets, pastries, bagels, cream…”  She trailed off as she led him away in the direction Tommy had just adjourned from.  He resisted her tugging at first, but at last gave in and accepted her guiding.  Leigh and two other servants appeared and followed in suit, each carrying a long, silver tray adorned with a vast selection of food.  It was enough food, in fact, to serve a small army.

Angela led him to the exact spot he had only just quitted, and he felt himself go pale.  His uneasiness rose as flashbacks of last night replayed in his whirlpooling mind.  Anywhere but here… must get away…

Angela plopped herself on the grass where Gabrielle had laid only hours ago and motioned for Tommy to join her.  He, however, shook his head gravely.

“Why don’t we go to the ridge instead?” he offered, waving his hand towards east.  “The sun will be bright and cheery over there.  The whole ridge lights up in these hours!”

She cocked her head inquisitively.  “The ridge?  No…”  She studied her surroundings.  “No, I’d much rather prefer to stay here.  Actually, I’m adamant about it.  Besides, the food is growing cold.”

Tommy sighed and gingerly sat beside her, not hungry in the slightest.  He made himself as comfortable as possible as one could do in such a situation and reached for the tray that Leigh was handing him.

For a brief moment their eyes interlocked, and Tommy recalled yet another incident from the night before, the one involving a certain collision between himself and her.  Though he knew not exactly why, he mouthed to her, ‘I’m sorry’.

Time passed and the two ate in almost utter silence.  Tommy ate little, his stomach feeling sick while his wife continually grabbed items from the tray.  She did not seem to notice his foul mood, or if she did, she didn’t act like she cared.  Angela simply enjoyed the beautiful day while Tommy was mentally stapling the word ‘guilty’ to his forehead.

Suddenly, Angela leapt up and gave a girlish giggle.  Without really comprehending what she was doing, Tommy felt his hands being grasped by her own and was jerked up and off of the ground.  Angela then sprinted off, dragging a clumsy Tommy behind her, his free arm flapping in the wind.  She pulled him over the ridge, but tripped, and they rolled down together in one another’s arms.  She laughed gaily while he shrieked of fright, but soon too found himself laughing when they at last stopped churning at the bottom of the hill, Angela on top of him.  She grinned slyly and nipped at his ear.  He turned his head away to sneeze when she had picked a violet flower and brought it to his nose.  The sneeze, of course, only made her laugh more.  Smiling, Tommy took the delicate flower and placed it in her glimmering locks.

Why was she so happy?  He didn’t know, except that this was the brightest and most fun and cheery she’d been since their honeymoon in Italy.  Temporarily forgetting Gabrielle, he inwardly wished that they could stay like this forever… so carefree…

They rose once more and strolled quietly to the edge of the lake.  Two swans majestically swam in front of them, the only thing to disturb the otherwise placid lake.  Tommy beckoned for Angela to accompany him in the rowing boat, but she shook her head, and instead took off her shoes and sat at the edge, feet dipped into the cool water.  Tommy did the same, neither of them speaking as they watched the swans.

But as they sat, the memories resurfaced, and he felt terrible.  This warm, sweet, tender Angela was the woman he had married, and she deserved to know, even if it meant receiving horrid consequences in return for the truth.  “Angela,” he started, scooting a little closer, “there’s something I need to tell you..”

Her gaze looked troubled, and averted to the lake.  “I want to tell you something as well, Tommy…”

But neither of them got the chance.

A loud, booming gunshot rang out, vibrating the ground.  Angela gave a cry of alarm as she lost her balance and pitched forward into the lake.  Tommy shouted out and reached down to help fish her back out as two figures exited from the reeds on the opposite side of the lake.

“Tommy, hello there!” hollered the first figure, waving their arm enthusiastically.  “Long time no see!”

Tommy squinted to make out the grinning faces of none other than Henry and Kitty.  His expression filled with joy at the appearance of his dear friends whom he’d bestowed his cottage upon that laid on the other side of the lake and down a few miles in a gathering of trees.

The two newcomers circled around the lake, Kitty hanging on Henry’s arm as Henry had a musket propped over his right-hand shoulder.  Henry was as geeky as ever with his black broad-rimmed glasses, plaid shirt, ruffled trousers, and uncombed hair.  Kitty, on the other hand, was as radiant and gorgeous as ever, with her glossy ebony locks, fair skin, intelligent eyes, and full-figured body.  Tommy recalled that he’d lusted for her once as well, and still had profound feelings for her, but he’d given her up long ago.  Ah, how he still occasionally suffered from his loss…  She was indeed quite the catch, to be sure.  Henry was a lucky, lucky fellow… probably a lot luckier than he knew.

As he approached his friends, he warmly grasped Henry’s free hand and shook it gladly, only to be then hugged tightly by Kitty who followed it up with a peck on the cheek.  He blushed as she winked at him and left to greet Angela who was squeezing water out of her dripping hair.

“Why were you shooting your gun?  There’s not much game around here,” Tommy questioned while also thinking to himself you could have shot us!.

“A weird looking snake passed by Kitty, so I shot the damn thing.  It was about ready to strike and bite her, so I blew its head off.  Great stuff, huh?” replied Henry, grinning, and slapped him playfully on the chest.

“Well, your aim must have certainly improved then,” Tommy commented with a smirk.

“No, not really,” he admitted.  “Just a lucky shot I guess, eh?”

“Yes.  Very lucky…”  He gazed over at Angela and sighed.  His chance, his opportunity, was gone.

“I don’t know about you Tommy, but I’m hungry!  What say you to going back to your place and having some lunch?”

“Well, actually, Angela and I just finished a big breakfast not long ago-”

“Terrific!  I’m starved.  Let’s blow this joint, huh?”

“But-”

But before Tommy could truly protest, Henry whisked them all away, Angela shivering from being wet and cold, and Tommy shivering for another reason altogether.

*****

“Ah, Tommy!  That was truly delicious!” Henry proclaimed, smacking his lips and rubbing his stomach in satisfaction.  “Oh- are you going to eat that sausage?”  He reached over and forked the link, popped it into his mouth, and chewed thoroughly.  “Hmm, and that pear?  No, don’t mind if I do!”  The pear, too, soon vanished, Henry leaving nothing but the core.

“You seem awfully glum Tommy,” Kitty commented, delicately patting her deep scarlet lips with a laced napkin.

His head instantly snapped up.  “Oh!  No, I’m fine, just a little tired is all.  I didn’t sleep well last night.”  He faked a smile.

“Pity.  I slept wonderfully.”  Her eyes barely peered over her wine goblet.

“Um, excuse me, I need to use the lavatory,” Tommy suddenly said, irritably shaking his head.  He quitted the table after almost tripping over his chair.

He left the dining hall and swerved around a corner, and instead of going left towards the bathroom, he went right and entered one of the many sitting rooms.  He growled and wiped vigorously at his forehead.  Why was he sweating?  What was he afraid of?  Why had the appearance of Kitty suddenly re-surfaced his grief, his feelings?

“I never knew you preferred to pee on the couch.”

“Kitty!”  Tommy whipped around to face her knowing smile.  She stood against a wall, watching him intensely, waiting for him to say more words, but they never came.

“Is there something… you’d like to tell me?” she drawled, leaving the wall and slowly walking towards him with a slight sway.  “You can trust me, you know.”

He snorted.  She was not exactly the most loyal diva on the block, but she certainly was the closest thing he had to a secret-keeper.

“Kitty,” he began as he buried his face shamefully in his hands, “I’ve done something terrible.”

“Worse than when you were trying to murder Henry?”

“Now, you understand all about that!”  His eyes flashed momentarily, but soon calmed again.  “Please, don’t bring that into this…  But in answer to your question, yes.”

She raised an eyebrow.  “Oh?”

“I… I slept with another woman last night!” he cried out in anguish as she sat beside him, wrapping an arm over his quivering back.

“Now now, that isn’t too bad.”  She lifted his chin.  “When you’re married to a stiff board like Angela, I hardly blame you.”

“Well, it was bloody fantastic- I mean, no!  I’m not that type of man!”  He downcast his eyes.  “I’m not like that.  I have better morals.  Or, at least, I want to believe I am better than that…”

“Being able to admit it to me is a step, Tommy.  Everyone has their dark little secrets, and most people are perfectly happy living with them and not telling a soul.”

He snorted again.  “Yes, I know you fit that category perfectly.”

She stood again, placing her hands on her curvy hips.  “Well, if you’re going to be a rude and ungrateful bastard, then perhaps I’ll just relay to Angela your news…”

“NO!  I mean, no, please.  Give me a little time.”  He reached up and warmly squeezed her hand, reassuring both himself and her.  “I will tell her- I had actually planned on it earlier today before Henry shot that gun- but only when the time is right.  I need to figure out how to break it to her without ruining our marriage or breaking her heart.”

He would have continued but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he mumbled in a tired manner.  The door swung open and the ever-benevolent Henry stepped through with a small white envelope with a golden seal protruding from his right hand.

“Ah, Tommy!  Kitty!  There you two are!  Where have you been?  No matter- this piece of mail just arrived from Uncle Samson.  Shall I take the liberty of opening it for you?”

Tommy lazily waved his hand in gesture.  “Yes, go ahead.  Uncle Samson is harmless.  He just probably wants to invite us to some huge theatre dinner.”

“Close.  It seems as if we’ve all been invited to a party of sort at his new summer resort,” muttered Kitty, glancing over Henry’s shoulder to read the letter for herself.  “How splendid!  I will finally be able to show off that new dress you bought me, dear,” she said, addressing Henry and pecking him on the cheek.

“When is it?” questioned Tommy who, at this point, was feeling rather weary and wanted nothing better than to curl up on his bed and take a nice long nap.

“Why, tonight.”

“Tonight!”  He felt like flailing his arms.  “Talk about procrastination and lack of notice!”

“Oh, come now Tommy.  It could be really fun, you know.”  Kitty winked at him.

“But I just had a party yesterday-”

“No matter,” she said, cutting him off.  “You’re coming whether you want to or not.”  She eyed him with a knowing look.  So he knew, with a sigh, that she was right.

*****

The carriage rocked back and forth with a rapid pace as the driver drove the two ebony stallions down the dimly-lit English road.  The four passengers inside sat in silence, almost as gloomy as the dark night itself.  Kitty continually looked at her ruby-studded watch and sighed while Henry’s hands were twitching and adjusting his tie every thirty seconds.  Angela sat calmly, fingers laced in her lap as she swayed gracefully with the movement of the carriage.  Tommy, on the other hand, was the one who seemed utterly annoyed, glaring out the window at the looming clouds above.

“It think it’s going to rain,” he commented bluntly, half to himself, half to his companions.  No one answered him, and the silence reigned once more.  “…Why couldn’t we have taken a bloody limo anyway?  We’re not in the 1800’s anymore!”

“Because this is much more elegant,” replied Angela smoothly, taking out a fan and spreading its folds.  “It’s more peaceful, too.  Now do be quiet and cease your grumblings- you’re giving me a headache, and I’m trying to enjoy this.”

Tommy glowered at her, resisting from snapping and embarrassing himself in front of his friends.  Kitty quirked an eyebrow and caught his glance, and he quickly turned his head away, grinding his teeth, silently seething.  So much for his sweet, kind wife…

The carriage abruptly jerked to a halt as the coachman roughly growled, “HOLD!”, and the horses whinnied and pranced in place, irritated at the gruff command.  The coachman clamored from his seat and stepped to the pebbled ground, and, upon bowing deeply, opened the door.  Kitty and Henry stepped out first, the coachman eyeing them with dislike.  Then Tommy offered his hand and assistance to Angela, but she declined, and excited the carriage on her own means, an angry Tommy on her heels.

“Announcing the Duke and Duchess of Bournemouth!”

Tommy blushed scarlet as a huge spotlight turned on them suddenly, blinding him momentarily like a deer in headlights.  He raised his hand to shield his eyes, looked downward, and scurried along the pebbled path quickly while people who he did not know called out to him from all sides.  It was as if he was at some grand movie premier, not a party!  All he was missing was the red carpet.

But then he stopped and his heart skipped a beat.  He had sworn he’d just heard a voice he recognized… a voice that re-awakened his inner stirrings…

“Tommy!”

He whirled about and refrained from gasping.  “Rielle!”

She reached up and laced a finger on the top of his collar button.  “And so we meet again.”

Tommy’s eyes quickly darted about.  Angela and the others had already entered the finely-decorated mansion.  He sighed with relief and walked with her more calmly, or at least, as calmly as one could without recalling the passions of a mere twenty-four hours ago.

“Let us stroll through the garden.  It must be lit with a billion lights!  And there’s a gorgeous fountain in the middle with Greek-style nudity.”

She had purposely said the last word in a husky, luring voice for effect, and it worked as Tommy physically twitched.  How entwined she had wound him round her finger!  He was helpless, as always, and he feared he would forever be the one lacking the control…

And yet, he heard himself say the words ‘No thank-you’ much to his own surprise.  He instead led her inside with the rest of the guests.  He thought he saw a flash of anger cross over her brow, but it was gone instantly, leaving him to second-guess.

The party room itself was jam-packed and stuffy.  The air was thick, the type that’s been reused over and over again with little fresh ventilation.  Servants and waiters dashed about the guests with menus, trays, and drinks for all, the guests complying by taking the offerings graciously, but only to turn around a mere moment later and demand for more.  In the right-hand corner sat a piano and its pianist, and opposite him, his musical accomplices playing serenely and sweetly, though not so softly that they couldn’t be heard above the murmur of the crowd.

In the middle of everyone was Uncle Samson himself, a foolish grin plastered onto his face as he greeted and welcomed each guest personally with a beefy handshake.  The guests would politely smile and nod at him, thank him for the invite, and then quickly inch away the second their first chance of escape arose.  Samson paid no matter to this and would only sprint away to hound someone else and repeat the process, his large stomach bobbing as he laughed gaily in the room.

Tommy grabbed himself a glass of white wine from a passing-by tray while Rielle took a red for herself.  She eyed him as one knowing who was in control, in power- Tommy merely a puppet attached to her string of steel.

“You seem distant,” she remarked, delicately sipping from the glass.  “What troubles you?  Perhaps I can clear your confusion…”  She stepped closer, her warm breath blowing over his neck.

Tommy’s unease sky-rocketed, and he barely caught himself in time from dropping his own glass.  What troubled him?  Hah!  You! he wanted to shout.  You and your witch-like spells, holding me faster than a pile of chains!  You refuse to leave my mind, to torment me with evil thoughts of treachery against my wife!  You bring me pleasure, such exquisite pleasure, and yet, you bring me pain.  Horrid wretch, heavenly angel!  Why chose me as your prey?  This room alone holds at least a hundred other men, though it is I whom you beckon and call, I who is doomed to your every will and whim.  I have a wife, God dammit!  I am bound by marriage and by affection.  But the love she refuses to offer me, you give freely without a second thought, yet the price of guilt already plagues me!  Can you not see the difficulties I’m presented with?  Do you not care that I was once able to call myself a decent man, but no longer?  What do you want from me?!  Surely it is not that I alone can soothe your lustful longings.  Is it rather that you delight in shattering others eternally, toying with them like your playthings?  Or are you innocent as the lamb, not thinking of the struggles you have molded and submitted me to?  I am partially to blame, that is certainly true, but your intentions are as mysterious as what really lies behind a wall of mist.

But in actuality, he said none of these things to her, and simply gazed back blankly.  She waited for a response impatiently, eyes blazing as he defied her with silence.

“Well, if you won’t tell me what is wrong, then I cannot help you.  Perhaps I’ll see you again later tonight.”

And with a swish of her dress, and a flip of her hair, she stormed away, clearly angrier than Tommy intended.  He sighed deeply as he stole another sip from his wine glass.  Could he never win?

*****

Angela’s eyes skimmed the crowd with anticipation as she munched on some sort of fancy spicy sausage.  Her chest heaved heavily as she was continually disappointed in not seeing the one she was looking for.

“Well, hello there.  What a smashing dress!  You’re the Duchess of Bournemouth, aren’t you?”

Angela swiveled around to face a diva of a woman who looked back at her with equal intensity, almost scrutinizing.

“Yes, yes, that I am.  And you are…?”

“Gabrielle, though friends call me Rielle.”  The strange woman extended her hand, and Angela shook it hesitantly and briefly.  She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but this woman slightly alarmed her, as if her eyes could pierce into her very soul.  She seemed like a snake, hissing quietly, ready to strike on whim whenever she pleased.  Her skin prickled at the thought of it, and much to her displeasure, this new woman lingered, sipping her wine and seemingly nodding to herself.

“Is there something you need?” she finally asked, exasperated at Gabrielle’s continuous staring.

“No, no… I apologize.  I was only thinking of your husband, Tommy.  He’s quite the fellow, isn’t he?”  She finished her glass and eagerly grabbed another from a passing waiter.

“Yes, he is…”  Angela’s voice drifted off as she again scanned the room.

“He seems very kind.  He’s very… honorable.”

“Mmm.  That he is.”

“Very attached, too.  And, likely, gullible.”

“Oh, indeed.”  She drank from her own glass.  “Tommy is harmless, and very charming to all.”  She turned to Gabrielle, slightly curious.  “How do you know him?”

“Oh, I can hardly say that I know him.  We’ve talked a few times.  I can’t help but admitting that he’s very likable.  You’re a very lucky and fortunate lady.”

Angela seemed to relax.  Perhaps this woman isn’t so bad after all.  You shouldn’t be so quick to judge others, Angela.  She means no harm.  If she’s a friend of Tommy’s, then she, too, is harmless.  “Thank you.  We’re… happy together.”

Gabrielle’s eyes flashed as she noted the pause in Angela’s tone.  “That sounds like a lie to me, if I might be so bold as to say.”

“No, it’s not a lie!” Angela was quick to retort, instantly taking defensive measures.  “It’s… it’s…”

“An exaggeration?”

Angela sighed heavily and began to tremble as if on the verge of tears.  “Oh, I am a wicked wife!” she gasped aloud.

Gabrielle stepped closer and set down her glass, solemn concern written across her brow.  “What do you mean?”

“I… I…”  She turned her head away and covered her face with her hands, shielding the glittering lights around her.  “Swear to me you won’t tell a soul, especially not Tommy- swear it!”

“I do, I do, now tell me what causes you to act this way so that I may assist in soothing your torment.”  She smiled sincerely.

“I’m having an affair.”

“You’re what?”  She raised an eyebrow.

“It’s been going on for some time now.  I couldn’t help it!  I just wanted to be loved… but I still love Tommy as well…”  She shook her head and wiped away a tear that had escaped.  “I feel like such a wretch, but I am torn.  He makes me happy, and is so sweet…  But it is not his ring that I now wear.”  She gazed down at a sparkling jeweled ring and sighed deeply.  “I don’t know what to do, what to say, how to act… how to feel.”

“There there,” Gabrielle said tenderly, and rubbed her gently on the back.  “Such is the life of many women!  You are not alone in this muddle.  What is the difference between loving and love, anyway?  To be loved and giving love…  Do any of us know what it really is, means?  No.  It’s nothing but a game of emotions and elations, and we are but the pieces on a chessboard.  Some of us are kings and queens; others are knights to save us.  The rest are simply pawns to be moved and toiled with, and doomed to fail.”  She paused and looked away into the distance.  “But which we are, do we ever know?”

Angela bobbed her head quietly, taking in the analogy, sadder now than ever before.  She had treated Tommy badly, and now she felt sick for it.  Could that, alone, show her that there was still some hope for the two of them?  Had they not frolicked like deer earlier today, more as one soul rather than two?

“M’lady…”

Angela swiveled around to meet a pair of dark blue eyes as her hand was taken up and gently kissed by smooth, soft lips.  She blushed fervently as she gazed upon the handsome figure in the tuxedo, his fine golden hair falling loosely over his ears to grace his finely-featured face.  Her heart beat increased as she clasped his hand and cried his name.

“Victor!”

“Oh Angela, darling, forgive me for keeping you waiting.  I was caught in traffic.”  He leaned over and sweetly pecked her cheek.

“I’m just glad you’re here now.  It makes me feel so much more comfortable.”  She looked over her shoulder and motioned at Gabrielle.  “Victor, this is Gabrielle, or Rielle as she prefers.  We’ve only just met, but she says she’s a friend of Tommy’s.”

“Well met, miss,” Victor said politely, bowing courteously.

“Unfortunately for me,” began Gabrielle, “I really must away- must mingle with others, you know the deal.”  She winked.  “I’ll leave you two alone.”  And with that, she slinked off, instantly lost in the massive crowd.

*****

Tommy sat on a couch in a different, adjacent room, his ears still ringing from the noise of the party.  He, however, felt ultimately bored, and yawned in an obnoxious manner.  How fun was this?  He was surrounded by people he did not know or care to know.  Henry and Kitty had disappeared within the masses, and Angela had returned to her stuffy, intolerable self and had left him as well.  And now, to add the cherry to the top of the cake, Gabrielle was pissed at him, rendering him utterly alone.

And so he sat there for quite some time, simply closing his eyes and brooding, letting his mind drift.  He re-positioned himself on the couch and felt himself slipping away, sleep beckoning just around the bend…

“TOMMY!  Tommy, oh Tommy, there you are!”

He jolted upright and let out a surprised shriek as Gabrielle came skidding into the room, all color completely drained from her face.

“Oh God Tommy, oh God!”  She let out of a sob and burst into tears.

“Gabrielle!  What’s wrong?”  He stood up and she practically flung herself into his open arms, quickly wetting his shirt with her tears.

“It’s Angela!  She’s…”  She trailed off, hiccupping and gasping for air.  Tommy felt her heart pounding against his own.

“Tell me what’s happened to her!” he demanded, a new rage erupting in his eyes.

“She’s… she’s dead.  Oh, Tommy!” she wailed, and clutched at his shirt.  “I was only talked to her but an hour ago… she seemed so nice!”  She hiccupped again as Tommy felt his knees grow weak.  He swayed on the spot.  This had to be some kind of joke!

And yet, he knew it was true.  But why had it happened; why was she dead?  How had she died?  Surely there was only one way for someone in the bloom of life to suddenly seep into the cold grave, and that method was murder.

“Where is she?” he asked weakly, his lips dry and eyes wetting.

“Come with me.”

He gingerly took her hand as she led him out of the room.  The party room had almost completely emptied.  Those who remained were either preparing to leave, or were too repulsed or upset to go to the scene of the crime.  Gabrielle led him onwards, and they exited to the backyard where they made their way down some stone steps into the garden.  There, in the far northwest corner, was a large gathering of people, their smiles vanished and replaced instead by a sorrowful frown.  They stood in a circle, murmuring, many of the ladies dabbing their eyes and trembling.  Tommy broke free from Gabrielle and attempted to push his way through the human barrier.  “Move, dammit, I’m her fucking husband!” he cried out angrily when they refused to budge.  Eyes widening with understanding, they stepped aside, and as Tommy entered the center, he sank to his knees.

There was no doubt whatsoever that she was dead.  She was as pale as the moon that hung above them like an eerie orb, and as cold as ice to the touch.  Tommy took her frail, limp hand in his own.  There was no stopping of the tears now.  They poured down his cheeks like rain, though silently, as he caressed her hand.  He brought it to his cheek and let it rest there, breathing heavily as he gazed upon Angela, cruelly strewn across the grass.  He saw no signs of any sort of means of murder, like she’d never even been touched.  It puzzled him, but he was too overwhelmed with grief at the moment to play detective.

He sat like that for some time.  One by one, most of the party attendees left, save for one finely-dressed man and Gabrielle.  Tommy soon heard the sirens of the rapidly approaching police, but he did not stir and continued to gaze upon his beloved… the woman whom he had spent many years of his life with, even before they had married.

“Angela, please, please forgive me,” he whispered into her ear as if she could still hear him.  “I never wished for this- never this.”

“I say there, who are you?” barked a gruff voice behind him.  Tommy weakly turned his head and placed distant eyes upon the figure of a muscular bobby who was glaring at him ferociously.  “Answer me!”

“I am Tommy Patel, Duke of Bournemouth.  And this is… was… my wife.”  More tears trickled down his cheeks and splattered onto the grass.

“A likely story,” the policeman replied airily.  “You’re probably the dastardly murdering bastard yourself!  Come quietly now, and I won’t beat you too hard.”

“No,” spoke up Gabrielle, stepping forward.  “He is who he says.”

The burly policeman raised a suspicious eyebrow.  “Your accomplice, eh?  How charming- I can take you two away at once-”

“I am not the murderer, and neither is he!” she cried out in frustration.  “But I can tell you someone who would be a grand suspect.”  She swiveled on her heel and out-stretched a finger at the finely-dressed man who had never left the scene and who also had tears in the corners of his eyes with a sorrowful, grieving expression.  “This man, I am sure, is your murderer!  He was the last person with her, and was caught kneeling beside her at this very spot, holding her limp frame!”

“That’s a lie!” the man growled.  “I would never harm her!”

“Oh, but you would.  You had an affair with her!”

At this, the man’s, Victor’s, face paled.  “Of that I do confess myself, but I loved her!  Why would I injure one I care so much for?”

Gabrielle smirked.  “Because she wasn’t sure if she loved you back.  She was having second thoughts.  I know all this because she told me, right before you whisked her away.  She probably confessed this to you or you already knew it, and so, you killed her.”

Victor’s mouth hung open in surprise and anguish.  Once re-collected, he spat, “I have never been so insulted in my life.  Fiend!  Who are you to accuse?  You, who did not even know her!  I was her friend, her companion and yes, her lover too!  But me, the black mark against her tender soul?  Never, I say!”

Tommy sat in silence, taking it all in as the verbal battle raged in front of him.  Angela had been in an affair for what sounded like a long, long time.  She was just as guilty as he, if not more so.  Perhaps… this was what she had wanted to tell me earlier?  Or perhaps it’d been something else, but either way, now he’d never know.  She had been stolen from him, just as so many things had been stolen from him before.  But those things he had obtained once more.  Thus… this, he could never get back.

“I do not know you,” hushed Tommy softly to Victor, “but if Angela thought well of you, then I feel compelled to do the same.”  As Tommy paused, Victor let out a huge sigh of relief.  “However-” his eyes narrowed, “I can also see Gabrielle’s deductions to be on a scale of truth.”  He stood, fists clenched as if he was to strike the man opposite him.  “No one else would have a reason to take her life away other than a jealous bastard!”

“Now see here!”

“Be quiet, you!  I hereby arrest you.  Mr. Patel, I think you speak truthfully now.”  He turned his cold eyes to Victor.  “I can smell a murderer a mile away, and your stench is appalling.”

And with that, Victor’s hands were cuffed, and he dismally slumped away.  Tommy watched him go, his blood boiling in his veins as the cop car door slammed shut and drove off into the night.

*****

Two long months had passed.  The weather, like Tommy, had turned foul and gloomy, depressing and gray.  Rain frequently spoiled the days, as well as windstorms.  The sun shone no more, as was the same within Tommy’s heart.

He had fallen into a sincere slump that he found impossible to pull out of.  The funeral for Angela had taken place one week after the incident, and she had been buried next to the lake.  Tommy had had to force himself to even go, and had broken down upon seeing her casket.  He felt utterly lost, as one who’d been sucked into an eternal black hole.  His guilt did not help, either.  He had loved her.. but had he?  Had he really?  Had she him?  They both were in affairs with other people… both going against their vows, both throwing their rings into the sand…

He vaguely remembered walking along the lake, alone, the evening of her funeral.  It had been the last nice day, and he watched as the sun set, filling the lake with colors abound.  The tears were gone and instead replaced by a heavy weight on his chest, a weight so unbearable that it made it hard to even breathe.  His mind was as blank as his solemn gaze, internally tormented and desiring to just scream in frustration.  He’d even considered suicide, drowning himself in the lake, when the appearance of another stopped him from doing so.

It was the servant girl, Leigh.  She, too, was dressed in black, her brown hair wavering gently in the breeze.  The sight of another human being seemed to calm Tommy’s rather savage state.  Leigh mentally noted this, and advanced towards him, stepping diligently, if not timidly, as if afraid he would strike out at her.

For the longest time, they said not a word, but merely gazed at one another with understanding.  Tommy knew that she had been friends with Angela ever since she had come to the manor.  Surely she too was sad over the loss.  And that sadness was something that they shared.

Tommy eventually had beckoned her to follow him, and, side by side, they peacefully trekked towards a swing under the boughs of a great oak tree and sat simultaneously, still never having spoken a single word to one another.  Night was beginning to eat away the remaining twilight.  To Tommy, Leigh’s presence was soothing, if not comforting.  This Leigh knew, so she stayed until he bid her leave.

The night’s sky had been clear that night with thousands of crystal stars dotting the navy blue heavens.  They both looked at it calmly, and gasped as a shooting star went past.  Tommy reached over and squeezed Leigh’s hand, meaning to say Thank you for being here for me… for being here with me. And Leigh had acknowledged this and understood, reciprocating the tender pressing of the palm, averting her gaze only briefly from the sky to look longingly at the man beside her.  But he didn’t notice the turning of her head, so she sighed, and returned to the celestial lights above.

And that was that.  They stayed in that position for another twenty minutes or so, then wordlessly left the swing, parted, and went their separate ways.

He had seen Leigh almost daily since then, but neither one said so much as a ‘hello’.  Leigh worked diligently and swiftly, commonly occupying the same room as Tommy.  He had wondered whether she was following him, or if she was just lonely.  Or, perhaps, he was just noticing her now.  Maybe she’d been there all the time, working so hard to keep him happy, and he’d never said a single thank-you.  But then again, who thanks a servant girl?

To try to make it up to her, he gave her an enormous pay raise.  She, however, had graciously declined, saying that she didn’t deserve to earn more than anyone else in the manor.  So, to comply, he raised the pay for all and gave the whole crew a day off, just for the hell of it.

They rejoiced (many kissing Leigh, calling her a blessing) and left in merry laughter.  Tommy watched solemnly from a window as they went, some skipping on the pebbled path.  He longed to be one of them, gay and happy without a care in the world.

He coldly turned his back and poured himself a shot of whiskey from a bottle he had placed on the table earlier this morning.  He downed it in a single gulp and poured himself a second glass and drowned it as well.  He eyed the remainder of the bottle with contempt and, with a sigh, took it to the bathroom and tipped it over so that the brown liquid slid down the drain.

He made way to the lounge and flopped upon one of the plush couches, hand covering his face.  He laid there, breathing heavily, trying to push his rising emotions away.  Whoever said that British men didn’t have emotions lied.

Tears had formed in the corners of his eyes.  He forced himself to sit up and gazed deeply into the small crackling fire.  He remembered, years ago, sitting in his same spot after yet another unsuccessful plot to murder Henry and Kitty.  It had been then that he had realized the wrongs of his doings, and the tables had been turned once more.  But now he feared only a bleak and dark future, living alone till the end of his days in that huge manor, surrounded only by servants and, if he was lucky, occasional visits from Kitty and Henry or, if he was unlucky, occasional visits from his mother.

“You OK?”

Tommy jolted and turned to see the serene form of Leigh standing in the doorway.  Concern was spread over her features, as well as something that had an air of care.  Tommy did not answer her, but instead beckoned her to sit next to him.  She meekly obliged, though didn’t sit too close so that in turn, Tommy scooted over to her.

“Why did you stay?” he asked coolly.

“I didn’t want you to be alone,” she replied back with a faint whisper.  “Are you… angry?”

“No, no.  Not at all.”

As he breathed softly into her ear, her skin tingled and goose-bumps crawled up her arms.  He was so close that she could feel his warmth, and he was so lonely… and she was so lonely…

Her eyes popped open when suddenly he was upon her.  Their lips were interlocked and his hands were mere inches from her, fingers spread wide, greedy and ready.  Leigh was utterly taken aback, her own arms flailing as Tommy continued to kiss.  But she began to relax at last, and closed her wild eyes and enjoyed the moment.  Tommy noted her sudden change in response and gently began to caress her.  She breathed calmly, and began to reciprocate the moves, and reached up to bring his head and body down closer.  She playfully fingered his soft, blonde hair, adrenaline pounding as the excitement began to increase.

He pulled away for a brief moment, sapphire eyes sparkling.  Tommy’s expression asked her in a polite mannerism of body langue, ’Is this OK?’.  She nodded fervently in response and pulled him back down, only for her hands to seek the buttons of his shirt.  He growled and licked his lips and, like a tiger, pounced on his prey.  While his affair with Rielle had been wild and flaming hot, this was sweet, tender, and yet, equally passionate, care and concern standing by for one another.

For the longest time they simply ‘made out’, hugging and kissing tenderly, bodies pressing into one another’s.  Tommy was shirtless now; Leigh was still fully clothed.  But the sparks were flying nevertheless, each enjoying the other for more reason than one.

“Tommy!  You naughty boy.”

Tommy and Leigh instantly pulled apart, both letting out screams of shock, hearts racing, chests heaving.  Tommy quickly grabbed his shirt that had been strewn onto the floor and looked up to see the piercing stare of none other than Gabrielle.  She stood just inside the room in a sleek black dress with lace trim, her dark hair let down so that it gracefully fell over her shoulders.

“Ri-Ri-Rielle!” Tommy sputtered, forgetting his shirt.  “What…?  How…?”

“I came by to say hello,” she said in a deep, husky tone, arching a slim eyebrow.  “But I can see you’re allowing some servant girl to do that for me.”

“Leigh?”  He stole a quick glance to the girl beside him, who was blushing deeply and smoothing out her wrinkles while staring at the floor.  “Oh, um, she’s no one.  Forget about her.”  He threw on his shirt but did not bother to button it, leaving his slightly sweaty chest exposed.  On the couch, Leigh bit her tongue and held back a sob.  No one!  Forget about her?!

“Come, then, and I will show you real fun,” Gabrielle beckoned, running her tongue over her lips and leaning over a bit.  Had Tommy been a dog, he would have rolled over and begged, but instead followed her out with great, sloppy steps, most certainly overly-excited now.

*****

Gabrielle led him into an empty bedroom, the word empty meaning ‘unoccupied’.  However, the invisible sign on the door now read ‘occupied’, as Tommy had noticed a single frilly scarlet duffle bag on the floor.

“I’ve decided to move in for a little while.  I don’t like you being so… alone,” she drolled, and leaned over and nibbled tenderly on his ear.  “That isn’t a problem, is it?”

“Uh, I, err, em…”

“Good.”  She smiled widely, knowing she had won.  “Then perhaps you won’t refuse my offer of marriage.”

“MARRIAGE?!”  His head snapped up in an instant.  “But Gabrielle!  I mean- Rielle!  Marriage???  Are you crazy?!  My wife was just murdered for fuck’s sake!”

“I know, and that’s an awful thing to have to go through.”  She stuck out her lower lip before rounding on Tommy and beginning to massage his back.  “But as they say, the best way to heal a hole in your heart is to fill it up again.  Don’t you agree?”

Tommy lolled at her touch and rocked on his feet, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand, but finding it extremely difficult to do so.  “I… yeah… I suppose…” he mumbled, dozing off, a lustful bell ringing in his head.

“So, it’s settled then.  Tomorrow we shall wed!”

“Tomorrow?!” he squeaked.  “But, but, Rielle, there’s just no way, I’m not ready for-”

She instantly cut him off.  “Hush now Tommy.”  She leaned over him and ran her hands from his forehead down to his shoulders.  “I have it all taken care of already.  Just leave the work to me.  It will be a small wedding- as in just you, myself, and the priest.  No one will bother us… no one at all.  And then, my love,” she whispered into his ear, sending a shiver of anticipation down his spine, “we will celebrate in a most special way.  I think you know what I mean…”

“Yes, God yes…” he moaned, eyes rolling into the back of his head as her hands continued to perform their dirty magic.  “Now… now!”

“No, not now!”  She suddenly broke from him, a wicked smile on her lips.  “Tomorrow, after we’re married.  I will guarantee it.  Now go, my darling.  I am very tired and would like some rest.  Good-night.”  And with a final kiss on the lips, Tommy was escorted out of the room, knees knocking, mind swirling.

*****

Leigh had been left alone in the lounge to cry.  Her dreams had been elevated and then shattered in less than an hour.  She had been so enthralled, so happy…

You see, Leigh had secretly loved Tommy for years, and had tried to show it in little ways.  He was the only reason she had stayed on as a servant girl.  She had actually graduated from Oxford with high degrees, but had become smitten one day with him when he had passed by her in a corner shop.  It had been love at first sight.  Course, she hadn’t known he was a duke then, but had followed him home to his mansion to discover his true identity.  She had then cleverly presented herself as a maid and servant, wanting nothing more in the world than to simply be near him.

Often she’d considered leaving, knowing that it was high time to move on with her life.  She would have, too, if Angela hadn’t confided in her many months ago that she was in the middle of an affair and was questioning her relationship with Tommy.  This news gave Leigh immense hope, so she stuck around, promising herself to be there for Tommy no matter what.

She had never anticipated the death of Angela, however.  Though it gave her a grand opening, the window of chance, she knew she wasn’t going to be the one to make the move.  She was not the type, and also knew it was not ethically right.  She grieved for the loss of Angela, and for the hurt and sufferings of Tommy.  She had enjoyed keeping him company the day of the funeral, but her heart bled for him so much more than her own.  So she resolved to be there for him, night and day, to be the one to catch him when he fell, to be the one who cheered when he stood tall.

But tonight… tonight had changed everything.

Finally she saw that she was nothing to him.  She was a nobody.  He had used her for a brief moment of entertainment for himself, and then had turned around and ditched her in the blink of an eye.  She had never known that Tommy had another attachment, and though she didn’t know the other woman, she loathed her and thought her evil.  Part of her said that these feelings of remorse were caused by jealousy… while another part said it was pure intuition.

She told herself that she wouldn’t have cared either way, though, if Tommy hadn’t just abused her in that manner that he did.  That uncaring bastard!  To think she had loved him, desired him, all this time…  Well, it hurt, and the hurt ran deep, like a Nile coursing through her body.

She vigorously wiped at her tears, her breathing calmed.  She made a silent decision that it was time to leave; there was no reason for her to stay any longer.  Leigh had her whole life ahead of her, and she was tired of wasting it as a supposed ‘stupid, low-class housemaid’.  It was time to move on without Tommy.  No one could say she didn’t try.

So she planned to leave that night in secret.  She didn’t wish for a big confrontation scene, and was afraid that she’d either break down upon seeing Tommy again, or would thrash him something terrible.  Either way, the outcome would not be pleasant nor pretty.

She slid into the hallway and tip-toed towards her room, silent as a mouse.

“Leigh!”

She froze, trying not to let her emotions deceive her as she rounded to face none other than Tommy.

“Look, I’m sorry I left you so quickly earlier.”

She said nothing.  He continued.

“It’s just that…  Well, I love Gabrielle.”  He wrung his hands, chewing on his lower lip.  “We’re getting married tomorrow.”  His face brightened a bit.  “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“…Tomorrow?” she hushed softly, her color paling.  She felt herself begin to sway unsteadily.  “Yes it’s… very… wonderful…”

“Yes!  Don’t you see?  My marriage to Gabrielle will ease my pain and help me to forget my previous life with Angela.  I can be happy again with a new life!”  He seemed so joyous, yet his voice sounded unsure and unsteady, but his facial expressions almost made it seem like he was about to dance.  “Please, come to our wedding.”

“No, no I can’t,” she managed to choke out, glad that Tommy was too wrapped up in himself to notice her falling apart.

“Why not?  Please, do come.  I’ll need some help with whatever Gabrielle has planned…  Just this one favor?”

“My mother- she’s, er, very ill.  I received a letter this morning.  I really must go and tend to her.”  She hated to lie, but hated lying to him especially.  But all the same, she hoped he fell for it.  He didn’t disappoint her.

His face fell.  “Oh.  Oh I see.  Are you sure you couldn’t wait until tomorrow evening?  It’d be a nice way to say good-bye.”

A nice way to say good-bye.  The words rang in her mind and only made her pain all the greater.  However, she found that she could not deny him.  “Alright, but then I truly must go.”

“Ah, thank you!  Till the ’morrow, then.”  And with that, he patted her gently on the back like she was some sort of child and took off, leaving her alone in the hallway to collapse against the wall and weep.

*****

The next day was one of mirth and joy for an extremely jovial Tommy.  He had announced the news to the rest of the household at breakfast, and all had erupted into cheers and claps save for one housemaid who was utterly morose.

The entire manor set about at once preparing for the event.  Gabrielle voiced once more that they were to be alone, just her and Tommy- no one else.  But no one paid heed (or really cared) as the cooks set about to bake a grand cake, the maids made sure the mansion sparkled, and the leftover servants were decorating to their hearts’ content.

Leigh was one of the decorators, reluctantly hanging CONGRATS banners around the main hall.  Disgusted, she could hear Gabrielle all the way down the hallway and up the stairs, hollering and screaming absurdities at the servants for them to help her get all fixed up in her wedding dress.  She shook her head sadly.  What Tommy saw in her, other than exquisite beauty, was beyond her comprehension.

The day waned.  Everyone’s happiness for their duke had melted into stress.  Many began to question exactly why no one was being invited to the wedding itself, and why it was so soon and so sudden, but Tommy only shrugged, saying that those were Gabrielle’s wishes.

Finally, around four in the evening, the two lovers departed.  The servants lined the path and threw confetti, a group of musicians playing triumphantly.  Everyone was in their best dress, some of the women dabbing their eyes, others dancing when the duke and their new future duchess strolled past.  Tommy and Gabrielle were beaming ear to ear, both looking stunning in their fine outfits, Gabrielle in a pure, flowing white dress, and Tommy in a black and white suit with studded diamonds and sapphires as blue as his eyes.

The two traveled around the house and out to the back, slowly drifting away from the crowd.  Tommy knew not where they were headed, but an inkling he had obtained turned out to be true when she led him into the grove where a priest stood by the tree where he and Gabrielle had made love little more than two months ago.

And so they kneeled before the priest who blessed them and performed the ceremony.  They placed the rings on one another’s fingers and kissed briefly before the beaming priest, who made the sign of the cross before wishing them well.  Tommy again was a married man.

*****

But they had not been alone.  One had seen the short ceremony, chest heaving, eyes tearing.  She had, with great skill and caution, followed the oblivious couple to the grove and had taken refuge behind a tree.  Leigh had had half a mind to run out there screaming “STOPPP!!!” at the top of her lungs, but resisted.  This was Tommy’s choice to make - not hers - be it doom or success.  She only hoped that this marriage would be happier (and longer) than the first, despite the forbidding feeling that loomed within her.

She almost let out a squeak as the couple turned and faced her way, ready to leave the grove.  Luckily, she was able to conceal herself before they saw her, and eventually walked right past the servant girl, giggling and chatting as they went.  Finding herself eavesdropping despite her anger towards Tommy, she was able to pick up a fragment of their conversation.

“…just where to go.  It’ll be lovely Tommy!  And once we’re there, I will make you the happiest man in the world and take you to heaven’s gates.”

Leigh couldn’t help but roll her eyes.  Gabrielle was simply sickening.  Nevertheless, she found her feet silently following them farther behind the house to the side road where a topless carriage adorned in white roses awaited the couple.  Leigh concealed herself behind a rather large shrubbery and continued to listen intently, her keen smarts guiding her.

“Go ahead and get into the carriage Tommy!  I’m going to make sure the driver knows where we’re headed.”  Gabrielle waved him away with a high-pitched laugh.  Tommy shrugged and obeyed as she turned with a smirk and walked over to the tall, thin driver whose face Leigh could not see.

“You know the plan?”

“Yes.  I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

“I know, so have I.  Let us not tally any longer, then.”

Behind the shrub, Leigh’s sick feeling deepened.  She shoved aside her hatred for Tommy for the moment and resolved to follow them.  Something was not right, not right at all…

She bit her lip.  But how to pursue?

There!  The back of the carriage had an area for a footman to ride.  It could be an uncomfortable position for very long (crouched and holding on desperately to a metal bar), but it’d have to do; there was no time for any other plans.

The carriage was off.  Gabrielle had joined Tommy and the horses were already at a brisk walk.  Leigh sucked in her breath.  Not being seen would be difficult… very difficult… but she knew she had to try.

She took off at a steady run behind a row of trees and eventually not only caught up with the carriage, but surpassed it.  Gratefully, the carriage wasn’t really going that fast, merely ambling along, but to succeed it would still take precise timing and physical strength if she didn’t want to be discovered.  And how, exactly, she was going to pull it all off, she did not know.

But there was no time to think or plan, only act.  In a flash, the carriage went by once more, and as stealth-like as she could possibly manage, Leigh slipped out right behind the carriage, and reached for the bar…

Missed it!  Grumbling lowly under her breath and not willing to give up quite that easily, she ran directly behind the carriage now, heart pounding and legs aching to keep up with the moving vehicle.  She continued to stretch, hand spread wide, only inches away from the bar.  So close, so close!

There!  Her hand finally touched metal, and squeezing her eyes shut from fear of her arm being ripped from her body, she closed her fingers over it.

She lurched forward and her arm screamed in pain as she was now, literally, being dragged along for the ride.  She hung on tightly and forced her other hand to take hold as well.  Trees flashed by on the sides and Leigh was feeling very dizzy, fingers slipping off the bar due to nervous sweat.  Knowing that a fall of any sort would be a nasty ordeal indeed, using the last of her dwindling strength, she pulled with all her might, and somehow clamored onto the narrow ledge, wishing so dearly to pass out, right then and there.  But instead she just closed her eyes again and breathed deeply, knowing that her first part of her mission was accomplished.  But what her mission was, exactly, and why she was on a “mission” to begin with, she was clueless to.

*****

An hour and a half later, as the sun was beginning to set and twilight reigned, the carriage rolled to a stop.  The horses, drenched in sweat from the humid air, panted and whinnied, lifting their sore legs.  But their soreness was nothing compared to that of the stowaway’s whose neck, back, and legs had locked and frozen in cramped positions.  Anytime she tried to move a jolt of pain surged through her spine and she would have to bite her lip to prevent from screaming.

The ride itself had not been pleasant.  Had she not have been stranded in the middle of somewhere she knew not, she would have abandoned the idea altogether.  Every time there was a bump in the road, she almost fell off and would be jerked to and fro, her body crying out for relief while up front, Tommy and Gabrielle were chatting and laughing away.

And now that the coach had finally stopped, she couldn’t move.  So it was stone-like and barely daring to breathe that she watched the happy couple exit the carriage, arms linked, two pleased turtledoves.  The driver followed behind them after tying up the horses, whistling a low, eerie tune, gloved hands clamped behind his back.  Together the trio made way towards another manor, this one much smaller, with Italian-style architecture.  It had pillars and statues dotting the entire yard with a gorgeous fountain spewing water in the center.

When the coast was clear, Leigh forced herself to move and let out a quiet “Eeep!” when her back gave a loud snap.  Rubbing her sore and stiff limbs, she stretched, relieved to feel the blood rushing back to previously-deprived areas of her frame.

Once she was re-situated, she stole away into the backyard to formulate the remainder of her ‘plan’.  Secluding herself by the cover of a great tree and thorny rose bush, she bit her nails in thought.  What was she doing here?  Why had she taken off like so?  And why did that sickening feeling continue to slither within her, coiling around her stomach and squeezing it tightly, bringing about a terrible nausea?

Time passed.  An invisible clock ticked next to her ear.  Leigh swatted at it like an annoying bee that was driving her crazy.  She simply couldn’t concentrate.  Her mind was drawing an utter blank, her heart beating fast while breathing rapidly like she’d just finished running a marathon as questions flashed through her head.  Why?  Where?  How?  What?

The sun was gone.  Darkness now enveloped the sky, taking hold and drowning any remaining light like a fearsome beast.  Both moon and stars were too afraid to shine tonight, cowering under clocks of ebony black clouds.  A renewed wind howled ferociously, whipping the trees and tall grass as a storm in the far west loomed across the sky.  It was already soon approaching.

Leigh brushed back a stray lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear as a single raindrop plopped on her nose.  Blasted weather!  Surely now this meant she’d have to seek shelter indoors…

Two more raindrops fell from the heavens as the wind ruffled her thin maid attire.  Bloody English weather, sunny one minute, damned freezing the next!  She shivered at the thought of coldness, rubbing her bare arms, teeth chattering, literally feeling the surrounding temperature rapidly dropping.

She gave in.  Running to the back door, she tried the handle.  Locked!  The rain decided to begin pouring at that point in time, so she rushed to another door.  Also locked!  But on her third try, now quite wet indeed, the door creaked open.  Without a second thought, she dashed inside and shut the door behind her.

*****

All was quiet.  The sound of Leigh’s breathing was the only thing to be heard, and to her, it sounded like a train huffing and puffing up a hill.  She dared not move as water dripped from her to the floor, wetting the carpet that was the color of a golden hue.

Feeling rather exposed, but relieved to be out of the rain, she squeezed off as much water as she could and decided to explore a bit.  Perhaps she could find a heater, or a roaring fireplace, where she could warm and dry herself.  Despite behind indoors and out from the storm, she was still awfully cold.

Walking down a sideways hallway that led diagonally southeastward, she stalked and snuck with as much caution as she could muster.  Doors after doors surrounded her, all bedrooms full of luxury, she was guessing.  The designs that were carved on the wooden frames were intricate, detailed, and beautiful, though hard to see in the extremely dim light.  It was then that it occurred to her that not only was this manor very old, but the only light-source came from candles on the walls.

She found herself staring at one particular door.  It depicted a dove surrounded by clouds with a cemetery carved underneath.  She wanted to get closer, feeling drawn to it for some odd reason, when further down the hallway came a pair of unmistakable voices.  Letting out a small gasp of surprise, she instantly scurried and flung open a different nearby door and locked herself inside, heart pounding once more as the footsteps drew nearer.  Ear pressed against the door, she was able to make out a few phrases.

“…special room for us.  Drinks for two, of course.  We must celebrate!”

Her nose wrinkled.  It was only Gabrielle talking and Tommy was being silent, as far as she could tell.  It struck her odd.  Tommy was the chatty, talkative type- so why was he not cheering and laughing as he was earlier on their ride to the manor?

Gratefully, they passed on, and Leigh struck her head out of the doorway quick enough to glimpse Tommy and Gabrielle entering the room with the dove and the graveyard.  Quirking an eyebrow, she made a mental note of this, at least knowing where they were- for now.

She continued her wandering stroll and came at last to the end of the hallway, noticing she was already almost halfway dry just from the walk, but still cold.  So it was with great delight and a hungry stomach when she noticed next that she had ambled into the kitchen.

Running over to a stove, Leigh was disappointed in finding it was not electric.  Instead, she pounced upon a loaf of sourdough bread on a nearby counter and tore off a chunk, stuffing it into her mouth and chewing vigorously, savoring the flavor.

As she ate, she continued to study the scene when her eyes fell upon a long, silver bottle sitting in the middle of the island counter.  It was filled to the brim with a dark violet liquid.  Perhaps it was some sort of wine?  Something to wash down the dry bread sticking in her throat sure would be nice…

She slid over to the bottle and sniffed.  The repulsive odor and vile stench it gave off made her gag.  It certainly was not wine, nor anything pleasant for that matter.  But then, the question remained: What was it?

A sound startled her, and seemed to be quickly approaching from the east.  Turning about, footsteps also began to sound from the hallway she had just come from, sealing her off on both sides and closing in quickly.  She was trapped with no where to go.

Taking her chances, she threw open the pantry door and concealed herself inside, hiding for what felt like the hundredth time that day.  It was cramped in there, and she barely fit.  She was accompanied by a series of dusty items and cobwebs.  Her nose twitched and itched in the musty, dusty air, but she did not have the room to reach up her hand and scratch it.  So, rather cross-eyed, she once again listened to the voices that were just outside her pantry door, and instantly recognized them as Gabrielle and the carriage driver.

“You’re right on time,” came the thick voice of the driver.

“I always am.  I prefer to work with precision.”

“Then the plan is still on?”

“But of course.  Tonight, Tommy will die.”

Inside the pantry, Leigh let out a tiny gasp.  NO!

“The icy grasp of death will fall before him when he drinks my poison, the same I used on his lovely Angela.”

So she had murdered poor Angela!  That evil wench!

“But how will you get him to drink it?” questioned the driver.  “I can smell the putrid thing all the way over here!”

“Shush!  Do you want all of England to hear?”  Gabrielle paused, and with a slight pop! removed the cap.  Though Leigh could not see it, Gabrielle was grinning wickedly.  “I will mix it in with his drink.  It instantly conceals the odor as well as the color- but the poison remains.”  She chuckled.  “And then, my good Shadgrind, you shall have your revenge, and I shall have my money.”

“Our money, you mean.”

“Yes yes, you insufferable twat, our money,” she hushed exasperatedly.  “Either way, there is no margin for error, despite our precautions.”

“Oh?” questioned the driver who was named Shadgrind.  “How so?”

“I could have sworn we were being followed.”

He snorted.  “Put those thoughts to rest- I have the eyes of a hawk.  I would surely have seen something and taken care of it.”  He patted a bulged coat pocket.  “Let us get on with it.”

Gabrielle nodded slowly, stroking the poison bottle with a hidden smirk of soon-to-be-triumph.  “You know, it is a pity…” she murmured deeply, “that we must kill him.  He’s a fantastic lover.”

Shadgrind rolled his eyes.  “You’re a whore, what do you care for love?”

She glared back intensely.  “I did not say ‘love’, I said ‘lover’.  I swear, you’re as daft as a lawyer!  Oh yes, that’s right- that’s because you ARE a lawyer.”  She waited for a sarcastic, snippety response, but none came.  “Do not alienate me, Shadgrind.  I am your ticket, your golden rose.  But do not upset me, or shall be very, very sorry.  Now… I think I shall go and have myself a bit of fun.  We can’t waste a good thing right away, now can we?” she said softly, and tipped the poison into a wine glass and then filled it with red wine.  She then proceeded to pour herself a (poison-free) drink as well in a different-decorated glass.

Shadgrind snarled and growled lowly in his throat, hand again reaching to that stuffed pocket.  Now was his hour as well.  Long had he desired his revenge on Tommy, for he had been Tommy’s lawyer.  But inside, he was dark and greedy, and had tried (and consequently, failed) at somehow manipulating it so that he would receive Tommy’s inheritance rather than Tommy.  He’d even gone as far as to murder Tommy’s nanny and cook, and had attempted in killing Henry, Kitty, and Tommy himself.  But he’d been driven off and had gone semi-mad over the time, raving and ranting alone in dark rooms, cursing at the top of his lungs, often in gibberish that was utterly non-understandable.

And then he had found Gabrielle, a cunning girl who desired both power and money (and lots of sex), and could easily manipulate anyone she chose.  So together she and Shadgrind hatched a plan in which Gabrielle would be prominent, the key to it all.  So far, it had gone smoothly and well… perhaps a little too well.  And now, the final phase was in action…

*****

The two villains exited the kitchen in the same opposite directions they’d arrived from.  Leigh, undetected in the pantry, let out a long-suppressed sneeze, then a sob.  Her intuition had been right after all.  She was going to kill him!  She was going to kill him, the same as she had killed Angela…  And there was nothing Leigh could do about it.

As she squeezed and tore herself from the pantry with a final sneeze, she racked her mind with a for something, anything, she could do.  She could call the police… except there was no phone in sight, and she had no clue where she even was.  Besides, she was afraid that it’d be too late by the time they got there anyway.  Even now it might be too late.  Time was quickly slipping through her fingers.

She decided to play it by ear and to perhaps try and confront Gabrielle, or to find a way to warn Tommy if he had not yet drunk the poison.  Gabrielle had sounded like she did not intend to do the foul deed immediately, so perhaps she had a chance after all.

Leigh soon reached the door and shuddered when she was reminded of the cemetery engraved into the wood.  But the dove… the dove was there too, flying away to freedom, her symbol of hope.  She only wished that she was the dove, and not entering a grave.

Inside, on an enormous bed laden with poofy covers and satin bed sheets, lay Tommy and Gabrielle.  Tommy, his shirt ruffled and top buttons undone, was nibbling tenderly on a giggling Gabrielle’s ear.  On the nightstand next to the bed were the drinks, waiting with a deathly calm to be taken to the lips.  They had not been touched, for Gabrielle had a quick romp in mind.  Sex first, murder later.  His untimely death would come soon enough.  Besides, she preferred to toy with her unsuspecting prey rather than knock them off right away.

“You know, we’re really not dressed for this,” murmured Tommy, breaking apart from her briefly, waving a hand at her bridal dress.

“Don’t worry, I have just the thing.”  She slid off the bed and ran fingers through her hair, pursing her lips and blowing him a kiss.  “I won’t be long.  I shall go… prepare myself,” she drawled, and with a shake of her hips, exited into the adjoining bathroom, closing the door behind her.

Tommy waited with sparked anticipation on the bed, fingers seeming to claw at its surface.  His heartbeat quickened at the mere thought of making love with her once more, and he quickly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt.  He was about to fling it off and send it flying across the room when suddenly a figure slipped through the main bedroom door and into the scene.  His eyes widened, jaw literally hanging open.  He started to speak, but Leigh rushed over, gently lying two fingers softly to his lips.

“Ssssh,” she hushed under her breath, so quiet that he could barely hear her.  “Tell me quickly now- did you drink from the glass?”

‘Did I what?”

She motioned at the wine glasses.  “Did you drink?!” she urged.

“Well, no, not yet…”

“Oh, thank God…”  She clutched his arm which he readily drew back.

“What are you talking about?!  Why are you here- what’s going on?  What the f-”

“Be quiet!” Leigh hissed, eyes narrowing.  “We’ve got to get out of here, right now!  Hurry, before she comes back!”

“I’m not going anywhere, least of all with you,” he retorted indignantly.  “Get off of me!  Who in the hell do you think you are?!  I just got married you know!  Give me a break; this is very rude of you!”

Leigh sucked in her breath and ignored his hurtful words as she heard rummaging in the bathroom.  Surely if she was caught, they’d both die.

“Tommy, you MUST listen to me!” she urged.  “Gabrielle is going to kill you!  Your drink is poisoned!”

“What?!” he practically screeched.  “You’re insane!  Leave me, immediately!”

“Tommy?” called Gabrielle sweetly from inside the bathroom.  The door squeaked and Leigh, in a flash of spontaneity, grasped the glass and poured it over, and then shoved the glass in Tommy’s hand before sliding under the bed like a ferret.

“What’s going on?” Gabrielle asked, sleeking forth from the bathroom in a see-through black lace gown.  “I thought I heard something.”

Tommy stared at Gabrielle’s sexy body, temples throbbing, eyes widening, hormones raging.  “I… uh… no… I… I knocked my glass over… is all…”  He tried to tear his eyes off of her.

“Did you drink it?” she asked with heavy suspicion.

“Erm, no.  I was… just…”  Snap out of it Tommy!  You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked woman before, and she is still partially clothed!  “I was… just going to.  I’m rather, er, thirsty,” he replied truthfully.

“Well, I’ll just have to go and get you another glass then.  I’ll be right back.”  She winked at him and left the room, grumbling under her breath as she went.

“Now, what in the damned hell are you doing?” Tommy spat as Leigh crawled out from under the bed, fire in her eyes.

“Trying to save your life!  Tommy, why can’t you trust me?  When have I ever tried to hurt you?  Never!  Why do you think I’m here?  Tommy, please listen…”  She grabbed his hand, tears in the corners of her eyes, but his were distant and un-concentrated.  “I overheard her talking to some man in the kitchen.  She-is-going-to-murder-you.  She wants your money.  She is the one who murdered Angela so that you would marry her and then she could murder you and get all of the inheritance!”  Her hands were clutched over the loose folds of his shirt as her breath quickened and desperation increased.  She knew that Tommy was blind-sighted by lust, and that he seemed so unlike himself, as if Gabrielle had already poisoned his mind, for he simply would not listen to reason.  She saw the confusion and doubt reflected in his eyes, as well as the anger and frustration.  These looks hurt her, knifing her deeply.  If only he’d realize, if only he’d believe!  She had to keep trying… she had to…

“Leave me,” he said in a deathly calm tone after a prolonged pause of silence.  “Leave me now.  I don’t want to see your lying face ever again.  You’re jealous of me and Gabrielle like some silly schoolgirl.  I would normally understand, but you’ve taken this too far.  Get out, go!”

The tears streamed down Leigh’s pale face, and she would have readily left had not for the door opening slowly with a creak.  Leigh once again darted under the bed with all due haste.

“Is all well, Tommy?  I do hope so,” Gabrielle said soothingly, setting the replenished glass back on the nightstand before running his hand softly along her cheek.  She leaned in and kissed his lips and sucked on them, both of their eyes closed as she went downward and kissed and nipped at his neck and upper chest.  He groaned with longing and attempted to pull her onto the bed with him, but she refused and straightened once more with a sly smile.

“I’m still not done getting ready.  I’ll only be a few minutes more, I promise.”  She grinned wickedly at Tommy’s puppy-dog look.  “Don’t go away…”

“Oh, I won’t!” he practically squealed, yet slightly confused.  How much did one have to prepare for sex?  He was ready now, and that gown made her all the more tempting… why wait any longer?

“Leigh!” he hissed as, for the second time, his maid resurfaced.  “Now’s your chance- go, before I have to get really angry with you.”  His voice was softer at seeing her depressed features and tear-stained cheeks.

“You’re not going to listen to me, are you?”

“I have no reason to,” he said with an air of impatience with shifty eyes.

“Then I have loved a fool.  I have never met someone as stupid and as ignorant as you.  And yet, your life is far more precious than mine.”  With a quivering hand and a subtle gasp, she reached over and grasped the glass, its red liquid swirling like a tide pool.

“No- what?  What are you doing?  Leigh!”

But before he could pull the glass from her fingers, she had downed all of the contents.  She felt the evil drink cascade down her throat, her body shaking more, but from sadness and grief rather than fear.  Tommy glanced at her with horror, still not believing, not wanting to believe.  For, if she was right, she had just taken her life in front of his eyes to spare his own.  He didn’t know if he could live with that.

Calmly, Leigh went under the bed once more.  She would not leave.  It was probably doubtless that Tommy was doomed anyway, she realized.  If not by the poisoned cup, then he would be murdered some other way.  But, as she sighed deeply, at least she would be gone, and there would be no one to miss her, or to shed a tear over her grave, or to leave a flower next to her tombstone.  She would be forgotten, as if she had never existed at all.

*****

Back in the bathroom, Gabrielle was having some slight difficulties of her own.  Shadgrind had, in all his cleverness, used a secret passage to get into the bathroom.  Persistent and bored, he had declared that he wanted to see Tommy dead immediately with all due speed.  Gabrielle, on the other hand, wanted sex first.

“I won’t allow it,” he growled monotonously.  “I’ll barge in there and kill him myself if I have to.”  He patted his coat again.

“How dare you!” Gabrielle spat.  “Who in the hell do you think you are, bossing ME around?!  Look- we already have formulated the plan, and I’m going along with it.  I want Tommy to be unsuspecting.”

“What does it matter if he’s dead?” Shadgrind asked irritably.

“Because… just because,” she retorted back, all huffed.  “If you don’t shut up and let me get back in there, not only will he possibly realize what’s going on, but I will kill you instead!”

Shadgrind only glared.  “Fine… but only one round, do you hear me?  I’m waiting right here.”

“You most certainly are fucking not-”

“Yes, I am.  Now go and do your dirty work.”

“Bastard,” she said lowly and flipped him off before returning back into the main bedroom.  She frowned to resemble Tommy’s own frown.  What was going on?

It was then that she noticed that his wine glass was empty.  So… perhaps Shadgrind would have his way after all.

“How was your drink?”

“Oh, it was delicious,” Tommy lied.

Gabrielle quirked an eyebrow.  He looked fine.  Perhaps he’d only just drunken it.  No matter…  The effects would be coming on soon enough.

She turned round the bed to stand on the side facing him.  She studied his features with intensity.  Such a pity to murder one so unbelievably handsome she thought to herself.  Such a terrible fate, indeed.  I’m sure you will be missed.  I will certainly miss you.  You truly are one fucking great lover.

“You don’t feel… cold, do you?” she asked quietly.

“Er, no.  I’m more hot than anything.”  He winked at her.  What is she playing at?

“You’re not… shaky, nervous?  Weak?  Itchy?  Sick?  Breathing hard?”

“No…”  But his heart beat had quickened as Leigh’s words resurfaced on his mind.  She’s trying to kill you.  He didn’t want to believe the drink had indeed been poison, but it was starting to seem all too obvious of Gabrielle’s true intentions.  Her sudden shady attitude… her narrowed yet ever-watched eyes… those eyes, so dark and piercing… the way her hand twitched at her side, the way the corner of her lip slowly upturned with a maddening glee…  She had become truly frightful-looking, a formidable figure of death that, only a few minutes ago, was a goddess of temptation and beauty.  He began to realize that Leigh had been right, that he had been a fool…  And now the poor girl probably lied dead under the bed, the poison that had been meant to be his within her.

A distant clock on the far wall ticked ominously.  Both stared at one another with anticipation as rain pounded on the window.  Gabrielle wanted to watch Tommy die.  Tommy wanted to see how long it would take Gabrielle to catch on that he was not dying.

It didn’t take her long.

“Are you sure you drank your glass?” she asked after a long pause.

“Yes,” he replied quietly.

“Then… it must not be working.”  She began to pace back and forth in front of him with a grimace.  “No matter- I have other means.  SHADGRIND!  Give me your gun!”

Shadgrind, as in my old murderous lawyer Shadgrind?  Well, why the bloody hell not?  He tried to kill me once before, so now he’s trying again.  Makes sense.

But now he was frozen, his fears truly realized, his life flashing in front of his eyes.  It was over.  Leigh had saved him from the poison, but now he would be shot, and it would all be over.  How blind I have been!  I’m dumber than a mule!  Now this fate I face… The woman who I thought I loved is trying to kill me, and a woman I barely know tried to save me!  Why, why me?  All for damned money, for diseased paper and coins…  A life for a fortune.  The media will love it- The Bournemouth Curse Strikes Again!  I can see the headlines now…

The door of the bathroom suddenly slammed open, and out came Shadgrind looking like a tiger with barred teeth.  “Let’s do it, let’s do it now!” he growled maliciously.

“With pleasure,” Gabrielle purred.  Tommy squeaked and tried to climb off the bed, but with lightening speed and amazing force, Gabrielle grabbed his wrists and held him down.  “You have no where to go,” she hissed in his ear.  “This will be your end.  I really am sorry we had to cut off such a wonderful relationship in this manner.”

“Hold him still, Rielle.  I want a nice, clean shot.”  From within his coat, Shadgrind had drawn a gun that glinted in the dim light with an eerie glow.  He brought up the pistol and cocked it, lowered it, and took aim.  Tommy shut his eyes closed tight, heart racing as he waited for the sound of the shot and the quick death that would take him..

But instead he heard a shriek of confusion.  Gabrielle was rolling all over the ground in a scuffle with a figure.

Leigh!  She wasn’t dead!  The maid had pulled Gabrielle’s ankles while under the bed and had caused her to fall, and had then immediately pounced upon her, using all means possible to create commotion and a distraction.  Run Tommy, get out of here, it’s your only chance! Leigh thought desperately as she barely dodged a punch.  But Tommy still remained horrified and shocked.  Shadgrind was upset and befuddled, mouthing “What the fuck?!” to himself as the fight continued.

“Shoot her, you damn fool, shoot her!” Gabrielle screeched, trying to pry Leigh off of her.  Shadgrind nodded and swung the pistol towards the two furious women, his hand shaking as he tried to take aim.

Leigh, who was quickly weakening, felt herself flipped over and moaned as she skid across the ground.  She was pinned before she could attack again, and Gabrielle was seething as she scooted aside so that the man with the gun could take a clear shot.

“DO IT NOW!”

BANG!

The sound of the shot echoed in the room, and a surprised Gabrielle instantly fell over dead.  With her remaining strength, at the last instant, Leigh had pulled Gabrielle over her so that she took the bullet instead of herself.  Now the dead body went limp against her frame, wide eyes of surprise hanging an inch above Leigh’s as blood trickled from Gabrielle’s back.  Disgusted, Leigh pushed the corpse off of her, breathing hard and shaking terribly.

“Oh my god…. What have I done?” Shadgrind whispered aloud.  “I have killed her…”  He wandered over to the body and kneeled beside her, dropping the gun from his hand, a single tear rolling down his cheek as he took her in his arms and squeezed her around the middle.  “I am sorry Rielle, forgive me…”  He let her go and stood back up, his face stern and cold.  “No.  It is not my fault.”  He wheeled around and faced a petrified Tommy who was still cowering on the bed.  “YOU!”

Shadgrind lunged onto the bed and barely missed.  Tommy, who had now realized that he should be running far, far away, had also realized that he was now fleeing far, far too late.  Shadgrind had already blocked the door with an evil smirk, his tall frame and wide hands grasping for Tommy.

“I will strangle you with my bare hands!”

He thrust forward and, much like an American football player, hurled straight into Tommy who instantly had the breath knocked out of him.  Together they kept on going, stumbling and almost flying backwards with a powerful force till they crashed through the door to the outside patio.  Tommy tried to fight him off, but he was failing miserably.

They came to the edge of the patio and interlocked and went tumbling down the few, short stairs.  Thunder clapped overhead as a flash of lightning lit the sky.  Wind howling, rain pouring, they finally broke apart.

Both men stood, panted, and glared at the other.  Shadgrind leaned over and drew a long, thin knife from the same pocket his gun had surfaced from.  He slashed it through the air, his face bright red with anger.  Tommy turned and ran with terror, but Shadgrind was instantly on top of him again, the knife raised.

He rolled and let out of piercing cry as the knife missed his heart and inside sank deeply into his left arm.  Shadgrind had already withdrew the bloody weapon and made motion to strike him again, but while clutching his throbbing wound and now useless arm, he kicked Shadgrind in the groin.  His enemy flinched and let out a groan, doubling over momentarily.  Tommy tried to scoot away, but Shadgrind recovered all too quickly from the blow and held up the knife to his helpless victim as more lightning seared the sky-

And he, too, fell over dead.

Tommy glanced up just in time to see the form of Leigh drop Shadgrind’s gun that he had carelessly left on the bedroom floor.  Shadgrind had been shot twice in the back and was now quite deceased, his expression matching his partner-in-crime’s when she had bit the dust.  Leigh smiled weakly at him, then her knees buckled- and she collapsed.

“Noooooooo!” Tommy cried out into the rain and forced himself to run to her.  Both of them were soaking wet, but he didn’t care.  She couldn’t die.  Not here… not now…

“Tommy?” she asked weakly, now barely breathing at all.

“Oh Leigh…”  He took her hand in his own right.  “You’re so cold… you’re shaking… Oh Leigh…” he repeated.

Her eyelids fluttered as her chest rose and fell laboriously.  She tried to reach out to him, but found she could not do so.  He, instead, took her in his arms and laid her head along his leg and stroked her soft brown hair with his good arm.

“Hold on Leigh.  I’ll get you to a hospital.”  He looked up and tried to blink back the emerging tears.  “You’re going to be OK.”  He looked back down with horror and shock.  “Leigh?  LEIGH!!”

Her eyes had closed and she was gone, her lips slightly parted as she had died while trying to say ‘I love you’.  Tommy did not hold back the tears now and wept like a child, feeling for a pulse, searching for any signs of life and pounding on her chest, rubbing her hand, praying she’d come back to life someway, somehow.

But there was no response.  The life had faded away from one so young, eager, and smart.  She had had her entire life ahead of her, but had chosen to throw it all away for him.

Tommy screamed into the wind and rain as his own blood seeped from his arm, losing control and yelling with rage till his voice went hoarse.  He eventually collapsed himself, crying on the wet grass that was strained red.  Three people had died right in front of him today, and he, the only one who was meant to die, had survived.  And it was all because of Leigh, sweet Leigh…

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered to the wind, his body numbing from the wet and cold.  “Please, forgive me Leigh.  Please…  I never appreciated you, never thanked you for your now all-too-obvious, yet calmly subtle love.  I never told you that I knew… who you really were. That I knew you weren’t just a housemaid.  Yet I, as a fool, still treated you like one, and pushed you away and aside.  Oh Leigh…  If only you knew how horrid I feel for the way I mistreated you and for the love I refused you!  Leigh… dear Leigh…”  He brushed a hand along her cheek.  “I will forever be in debt to you.  All my life has been a lie, a perfect lie.  But I vow…”  He paused and stood up, lifting his head to the heavens.  “I vow to become a new man.  I will change myself and my life, inside and out!  I will care, I will love all those I know!  No more boyish lusts, no more useless parties of publicity!  From here on out, I will live a perfect life to the best means I can, and I will always, ALWAYS, remember what you did for me.  Because of you, I, Tommy Patel Butterfly Rainbow Piece Bournemouth, AM ALIVE!”

Epilogue

Tommy had managed to wander later that night down the road after wrapping some cloth over his arm and had eventually found a small house.  Once explaining his predicament to the slightly-skeptical owners of the house, they had let him in and called an ambulance and the police.

Leigh’s funeral had come and gone.  He’d buried her next to Angela, but grieved endlessly.  Though many people commented about what a wonderful and kind man he had become, he often fell into dark pits of depression, then would return back to normal as if nothing had happened.

He later married (for a third time) to a girl named Bailey, Leigh’s younger sister.  Though the two of them never got exceptionally close, they cared deeply for one another.  Bailey had heard much of Tommy from frequent letters Leigh had sent to her, and Tommy found much of his late maid in both personality and looks in Bailey.  Together they lived a happy life and had a single child, a daughter.

Henry and Kitty remained the best of friends.  Their son grew up with Tommy’s daughter and, once old enough, had married, happy as pie.  It was all too amusing that Henry, who had thought himself the duke when it was actually Tommy, now had a son who was truly the heir to the dukedom.

And life was fairly peaceful since.  Sure, there were problems and tiffs here and there, but it was all exceedingly minor in comparison to past events.  Tommy had to admit that things had never been better, but he still visited Leigh’s grave ever Saturday and smiled each spring when beautiful flowers bloomed over the mounds.


//----------------------------------------A PERFECT LIE ~ BY DIANE
Idleized Heaven® Is Copyright© 2003-2007, All Rights Reserved.  I am not in contact with Eric Idle, despite personal wishes.  No infringement of Monty Python or any other Eric Idle memorabilia is intended.  All images and pieces of artwork or alike creations belong to their respective owners.
Last Updated: November 20, 2007
Domain:  Eric-Idle.com
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Title:  Idleized Heaven
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