Buying the Virgin

Chapter 71: The Girl Who Came Back - Chapter Twenty-Seven

Beth and I sit out on the terrace, overlooking the long, elegant, walled garden. Her eyes are sparkling

with mischief. “That should give them something to think about, settle them down a bit don’t you think?”

“Richard won’t be upset about it?”

She shakes her head. “He asked me to get to know you.”

“James is a lovely person you know.”

“I’m sure he is. And Michael?”

“Oh yes, even more so.”

“So…” she leans forward, conspiratorially. “How on earth do you manage with two of them? I’ve got my

hands full with one.”

*****

One of the wine bottles is empty.

“Let me show you something, Charlotte.” The twinkle in her eyes is wicked. “Come with me. Bring that

other bottle of wine.”

She leads me through the long central hallway of the house. As we pass the dining room, we can hear

the three men, talking quietly. She looks at me, holding a finger to her lips as we walk silently past.

At the back of the hall is a door, locked. She pulls out a key from a pocket, unlocks it, and leads me

down a stone stairway into a basement.

It is beautiful. Down a long corridor, vaulted ceilings arch above us, the stonework clearly old. Doors

lead off to either side. We pass scents of wet laundry and oil, but she leads me along, pushing the end

door open. “Take a look,” she says with a giggle, reaching around the door to flick on a light switch.

I step inside.

When I see the room, the only thing I can compare it to is the ‘dungeon’ at the club, but whereas that is

a copy, here, I am looking at the real thing. The vaulted stone ceilings of the corridor continue through,

arching high above us, but now span a large room, perhaps forty feet wide, fifty long. In an old house of

this sort, it was perhaps once a meat store. Butchers’ hooks project from the arches that might once

have taken animal carcasses. Now, they dangle chains and ropes.

Racks on the walls carry flails, whips, and floggers. The floor is scattered with a variety of padded

benches of different sizes and heights. And a huge four-poster bed takes up the far end of the room.

The only nods to normality are a wine rack on one wall, stacked with dusty bottles, and a large ginger

cat snoozing on the bed.

“So, you see,” says Beth, “why Richard was not at all upset, or shocked, to find you in the Club?”

I am sucking in my cheeks, trying to contain my reaction, but at her words, I just burst out laughing, and

she with me.

“C’mon,” she says. “Let’s open that other bottle.”

*****

Some while later, the second bottle is empty and others are scattered around us. A further bottle is half

empty. Beth and I are sitting together, cross-legged on the bed, shrieking with laughter. The cat has

settled in my lap. “You mean he actually shaved you? Down there?” I ask, eye-pointing downwards.

“Yup…. tied me to the shower head, got me all wound up, and then refused to finish me off unless I

agreed to what he wanted…”

I want to ask more, but the door swings open at the far end of the room, my Master, Michael, and

Richard, all looking at us as though we are crazy.

Richard strides over, looking down on his wife, arms akimbo. “When I said to have a chat with the girl, I

meant in the lounge or the library…” he says, acidly.

“Beth waves her glass at her husband, “If you don’t like it, you shouldn’t have introduced us.

Remember, women talk.”

“I’ll be talking to you later.” growls Richard, but there is a glint of humour in his eyes.

Michael looks at the state of the bottles. “You two are going to really regret this in the morning.”

My Master is wandering around the room, wearing a charmed expression. “Well,” he says, “I know what

I bought myself when I became a millionaire.” He glances at me, grinning. “Now I know what I’ll buy

when I’m a billionaire.” He stands over me, looking down. “You two have enjoyed yourselves. Dare I

ask if we have any secrets left? Any of us?”

I hiccup. “Nope. Not many. We’ve had a really good chat haven’t we, Besh?”

“You’re slurring,” says my Master. “Perhaps you’ve had enough to drink?”

“No, don’t think so. I reckon you’re the one who’s had too much. You’re all blurry at the edges.”

“I think you’d better stay overnight,” says Richard. “These two are going to need their beauty sleep.”

*****

The following morning, Beth and I feel less like talking. Waiting until he’s not looking, I rummage

through Michael’s bag of tricks for pain-killers. He’s bound to have some….

“This what you’re looking for?” says a voice behind me.

Michael is waving a packet at me.

“I thought the two of you would have royal hangovers this morning. You’ll find coffee and juice in the

kitchen.”

Beth and I sit across from each other at the table, nursing a black coffee apiece. Our eyes meet, and

despite a shocking headache and a rebelling stomach, I giggle. She does the same.

Michael plonks a glass down in front of me, the contents fizzing. “Get that down your neck.”

He passes another one to Beth. Then he pours a saucer of milk, as the cat wanders into the kitchen.

“Anything else I can get you?” he asks. “Nice plate of greasy eggs and ham, perhaps?”

“You could stop that damn cat stomping so loudly.”

*****

An hour or so later, black coffee and orange juice having worked their magic, I am feeling much

improved.

“So, what is it for the rest of the day?” says Richard. “James, I want to discuss the works on Site C. If it

suits you, we might as well do it here, as go to the office.”

“Fine by me.”

Michael says. “I want to pop out, to check things out at the Centre. A surprise visit from the boss never

does any harm.” My Master tosses him the car keys.

“Charlotte,” says Beth. “I’m going shopping. Would you like to come with me? If you’re not doing

anything else, that is.”

“Erm… Not sure if I’m wanted here…”

I glance at Richard, but he shrugs. “Go enjoy yourselves, since you seem to be getting along so well.”

There is an ironic edge to his voice. “Where are you planning on going, Elizabeth?”

“I was thinking of having a mooch around Francesca’s store. Perhaps buy some new summer clothes;

have a coffee in the tea rooms.”

“Expensive then,” says my Master. He slips a card out of his back pocket and passes it to me. “You

know the PIN. Get yourself something nice. I’ve not seen you wearing anything new in weeks.”

*****

Francesca’s store is beautiful, but is indeed, very expensive. I gulp at some of the prices and hold back

over the idea of buying anything.

“He did say to get yourself something. He knows perfectly well what things cost in here, Charlotte.”

“Elizabeth, it’s so expensive.”

“It’s Beth, and he can afford it.”

She persuades me to try on a very slinky dress, in a brilliant jade green, to set against my red hair. I

have to admit, it looks great on me, and reluctantly I pay for it. Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“Hope he likes it at this price.”

Beth casts a sideways glance at me. “Hardly matters really. Looking at you with it on, I don’t think you’ll

be wearing it for very long.”

I giggle. It is new to me, having another woman to talk with. Most of the other students at college are

guys, and I have no old girlfriends left.

In the coffee bar, we take a table, sitting facing each other, and have high tea; tiny sandwiches with the

crusts cut off, and scones with strawberries and cream. It’s delicious but feels like another world to

me.