Lusting For Elliot

:Part Three: Chapter Twenty-Two

~Chapter Twenty-Two~

The sounds of silently clanking china ware, and the smell of chamomile tea, was in the air, with sipping of scathing or gentle liquid and the taste of cream. It was a cannibalistic blissful atmosphere in the draw room.

Duke was seated with Jimmy, Ella sat beside dad, and she was seated across from me, a perfect picture of elegance and graceful ageing. She brought the tea cup to her lips, took a sip, before pausing in delicate assessment as she savoured the liquid on her tongue, staring down at the cup in amused contemplation, before taking another and gently retuning the cup to its saucer. That was a compliment to the chef, and he'd seen it.

"You went and saw him," she suddenly said, startling the silence. Jonny had chosen not to appear. After learning the whole scheme wound around the events of the previous month he'd chosen he wished to be away from it all.

After a precarious sip of apple and chamomile, I gently returned the cup to the saucer on my lap. I didn't bother to glance up, more than aware of the direction of the statement. Dad, however, glanced up. Kudos to him he didn't speak a word. The latest of events had finally set reality into everyone's minds, and one of those was my father.

"You look like her," I found myself saying. Lifting my gaze I met the charming pair of eyes I'd inherited two generations later. There was no lie in the statement. Hers were a lighter shade but still vibrant with equal shades wisdom of age and clarity of life, the stubborn chin never missed in any generation, the shape of the eyes a definite start of my mother's hand me downs. My lips barely quirked into a mocking smile. "You're the perfect reminiscence of what she'd have been at your age."

My grandmother smiled; a gentle, caring smile that was not at all bothered by my words. "You remind me of her," she said, her voice a perfect tone of injected passion and strong standing control. It reminded me of what I'd lost. "I remember she used to do the same thing when she felt down: square her shoulders and stare me down, determined to win, even if the facts were against her."

I nodded. What else could I do? As much as I could always be found at the front of the line ready to point out that impractical pride brought one nowhere, I was left with no other choice but to seem in control even if I didn't have that blessing.

I'd given her control, I realised begrudgingly. "Do tell me: without all this farce and out of all the madness, how was your trip to your mother's ranch?" grandmother asked.

Immediatlly the feeling of hands on my body, of a weight deliciously over me, of heat and delirious passion, cascaded my senses in a harsh reminder. Anger bubbled out of a supposed to be carefully lidded bin. "I trust the documents are in order?" I asked, meeting her gaze squarely. Her lips barely quirked but the amusement in her eyes had that lid popping further. She was daring me in a way, to act irrationally and without thought; to show her she was right.

Unfortunately for her the time of passions had passed now; although their wake left simmering heat waiting to be stoked, I was determined to be clear minded and tactical at this meeting.

The silence stretched on as we stared at each other, everyone else holding their breaths in bated silence. Grandmother's nod was barely recognisable, but it was there. Something else happened that I doubted I'd ever been witness to before this day: grandmother barely let out an audible sound. Grandmother never sighed.

She lifted her hand and snapped twice. The legal advisor she'd travelled with quickly stood up and walked towards her, but she shook her head, nodding her head towards me. The advisor's bow was practiced and with ease of time, both times as he bowed to grandmother and then to me.

"The seat of Earl will be filled at your marriage, but until then, you are your mother's daughter," grandmother said, all the while the advisor opened all three copies of the document with practiced ease.

I took one from his grasp, and begun reading it. It was a single sheet of paper that required only a brief moment of reading. Perhaps I'd thought my grandmother not above disloyalty and honesty as she'd explained that which this paper held, but here it was that the document was full of honest inclination towards my benefit, and nothing but my benefit.

"I hope it is to you satisfactory, Miss. Jenkins," the advisor said. Nothing was out of the ordinary and it all seemed more unsettling. I forced myself to breathe as I stared at the outstretched hand holding the pen. This would seal it all; this made certain I could never have what I truly wanted.

This made certain Jonny and Elliot had the best lives I couldn't hope to give them by myself.

"It is," I said, forcing the stern quality in my voice, forcing the strength and courage I had to show. When I reached for the pen, it was with strong hands and a firm grasp, and not a quake showed from the rattle of my nerves.

I didn't think anymore of this decision as I brought the pen towards the paper. Two strokes of the pen three times and the decision was made.

The advisor snapped shut the last of the folded documents and bowed, low and graceful. "It is done, your ladyship," he said.

Something felt heavy in the pit of my chest. It clogged my throat, threatened to let erupt another tumult of tears. But no more, I thought determinedly. It was time to face what fate had determined I would become.

My nod was firm as I stared up at him. "Very well," I said. As I stood, everyone did. The truth pushed at me then. I was from hence forth to be received and addressed as such. No longer was my marriage dowry a ranch, hordes of money in trust funds and businesses that thrived in the hands of assistants, but now a title added into the pile.

Of course, the man I married was now going to be based on the decisions of others, per their standards. It was why mother denied it: of course with mother she was the eldest of only daughters.

I nodded, turning to walk away.

"It doesn't have to be bad," my grandmother's softly spoken words made me stop. "Things are only dull if you make them to be. A light is always at the end of the tunnel, no matter what choices we make."

I felt the tug of a cynical smile as her words brought more pain than I presently needed, but pushed it down. I turned a cool gaze on a rather resigned lady. "Indeed," I said. "Choices have to be made."