Chapter 14.
Jareth was not one to leave things to chance. He knew that as far as Sarah Williams was concerned one had to give fate a helping hand. He knew that although he'd be on her mind in both his own persona and that of the mysterious Master, it was not enough. He was surprised that she had not demanded a name that she accepted his title of Master. But then she'd accepted his title of Goblin King long before that troublesome dwarf told her the King's name.
He began to send little obstacles her way, things that would force her to think about him. He sent her dark and troublesome and very sexual dreams. He wanted her to hunger, just as he hungered. For now he believed he had the upper hand where the uncooperative and undisciplined Miss Williams was concerned. Still he admitted to himself, it was better to have her problematic self in his life than to be without her.
Pablo found the master in the greenhouse, speaking to gardeners. "More flowers?" he asked.
"Just a few," the Master said lightly.
"You don't do things in half measures, do you?" Pablo asked as they exited the building and walked the grounds. A chill was in the air.
"I don't believe in half measures," Jareth admitted. "I prefer to take things on with full force."
"Sometimes holding back can be more affective." Pablo cautioned careful not to overstep his place.
Jareth paused. "Holding back? Do you hold back with your little Sophie?" Mismatched eyes sparked like flint.
"At times, yes;" Pablo confessed. "Anticipation makes the conquest and the surrender even sweeter."
Jareth mused, "So the little blonde has not lost her fascination? You still desire her attributes?"
"Perhaps more," The artist acknowledged declaring his attraction for his teenaged lover. "She is like an addition, and I find I can never have enough of her. As I've said, I may just have to marry this one."
The Goblin King frowned. "When I have achieved my goal, when I have retrieved my chattels we will return to the Underground. I can not remain here above forever. Do you really think your little Sophie will willingly give up her world for you?"
"Yes, Sire I do." Pablo sighed. "Thanks to your need to battle the Williams girl, I have found the other half of my soul. Yes, Sophie will come willingly, if you allow me to have her."
"And should I deny you that pleasure?" The King asked coldly.
"Then both the girl and I shall die of broken hearts." Pablo said softly.
"You can not die, you're not even mortal any longer, or had you forgotten?" The words dripped sarcasm. The King eyed the artist with interest. "You think your little playmate would come willingly? I wonder." He began to tap his chin. "Care to wager?"
"Wager what?" Pablo looked confident.
"You may ask your little sex toy if she'd like to spend eternity pleasuring you. If she agrees I will allow her entry into my realm. She will be your problem then, it will be up to you to educate her in our ways and manners. She will be your responsibility for eternity. If she refuses you, then you will leave her here, with no more as a second glance back. And you will serve me as my official portrait artist for oh say one hundred years." Jareth said in his most silky voice.
"I accept." Pablo said with a smile.
"You're too confident!" the Goblin King scoffed. "You trust this mortal female far too far."
"We shall see." Pablo stated. "The problem is you don't have such… domination over your precious little dark haired vixen."
"Not yet…but soon." The King claimed. "Soon Sarah Williams will be my willing submissive."
"Delude yourself, my King." Pablo said as they continued their stroll. "The Williams girl will never be submissive…willingly or not!"
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Sophie came up the stairs to Sarah's room at a clip, she was excited. "Sarah, look." She thrust the card into the other girl's hand. "An invitational showing of my work at Paradisia."
Sarah read over the invitation. "I had no idea you had that much work in a ready state."
"I've got tons of work!" She boasted. "I've been painting up a storm of late. Pablo is impressed by my new inspiration and style." She flopped down on Sarah's bed. "The Master has even agreed to allow the painting he bought to be shown."
"What?" Sarah's head turned quickly. "He's going to what?"
"Let me show the painting of you on the lace." Sophie repeated.
"No…you can't do that…" Sarah panicked. "What if Dad or Karen sees that… He can't…" She grabbed at her forehead, seeking an answer.
"I can't see your dad getting an invitation to the showing. It's only for art dealers of a certain reputation and art critics Sarah." The blonde laughed. "Of course you'll be at my side, my muse…"
"Not!" Sarah snapped. "I won't set foot in a gallery showing my…"
"I said it's at Paradisia, not a gallery." Sophie snapped her fingers at Sarah to break into her attention. "And you'll be there, if only because I'm not telling you what else I've painted. You'll have to come and see for yourself." She sounded like a child with a toy taunting another child.
"Sophie, did you put my face on another painting?" Sarah's voice rose with her temper.
"Not just your face, but that bode of yours too, babe!" Sophie snickered. "I got some really hot ideas and they just flowed from my fingers to the canvas."
"I never gave you permission!" Sarah railed.
Sophie stood up and looked at Sarah with cold blue eyes. "I don't need permission. I'm an artist, Sarah, I paint what I see, what I feel."
Sarah moved back, shaken by the lack of remorse, but even more shaken by the coldness her friend displayed. "You didn't even tell me…"
"I suggest you wear something that makes you look not so juvenile." Sophie smiled coldly. "I want to impress the critics."
"Then you can do it alone." Sarah said finding her tongue. "I won't be going."
"Sarah," Sophie walked calmly to the door. "Don't be a naughty child. I'll be here to pick you up Friday night at six. Tell your folks were taking in an art lecture at the university. There's one that night and it will make a great cover story. Or else."
"Or else what?" Sarah snapped.
"I can make sure your dad gets an invitation." She exited the room. "See you that you dress appropriately. See you in the morning, doll."
Sarah sunk to the bed, feeling like a rat in a maze.
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True to her word, Sophie appeared at the Williams door on Friday evening. "Hi, is Sarah ready. We want to get good seats for the lecture."
Sarah came down the stairs, her coat on and buttoned. "I'm ready."
Sophie wore a look of triumph on her face. "Good,"
Robert smiled as he opened the door for the girls. "Not too late, alright girls?"
"OH we're invited to the reception after the lecture. So we may be a bit late. These art things go on for hours you know." Sophie said smoothly.
"Have a nice time." Robert teased as he watched them leave.
Sarah glared at Sophie in the car. "Was that necessary?"
"Yes doll, it was." The blond ignored the looks of daggers being thrown her way. "We are not going to be rushed. I want to enjoy my success."
"At my expense," Sarah glowered. "You had no right to do this without warning me."
"Sarah, grow up." Sophie sighed. "Not everything comes with a warning. I've been making sketches of you since the first day of the semester. Did you honestly think I wasn't going to use them?"
Looking out the window at the dark beginning to shroud them, Sarah whispered. "I don't know what I thought anymore. This thing starts at Eight thirty, why are we going so early."
"So you can change your dress, for one thing." Sophie pointed to two dress bags in the back seat. "I figured that I'd just bring the proper attire for us both. I knew you'd be in something that makes Marian the Librarian look like a hussy."
"So instead you want me to look like one?" The accusation hit the target.
Sophie laughed. "Hardly, I just thought a nice little black cocktail dress was more appropriate. I promise it's tasteful, not slutty."
Sarah huddled close to the window.
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The butler met them at the door. "Good even ladies, the master has requested you use the peacock room this evening."
Sarah blanched. "How nice," she said trying to sound calm and not furious. Following the butler up she felt the trap condense and begin to close around her.
Sophie tossed her coat on the bed and began to remove the dresses from the garment bags she'd carried in. "This is yours and this one is mine."
Sarah rolled her eyes to the ceiling and then grudgingly looked at the dresses. She had to admit they were tasteful. "Ok, they are nice.
Sophie nodded. "I ordered that one for you when we were in New York. I just knew it would be a knock out on you." Swiftly she began to unzip the dress Sarah was wearing. "Hurry. WE are expected to be in the gallery room before the guests arrive."
Sarah looked at her. "I'm here under protest, don't rush me."
When Sarah was changed, Sophie pulled her hair up into a makeshift French twist, and fastened it up with pearl clasps. "You look too elegant for words." Sophie said over her shoulder.
"I feel like a sacrifice!"
Sophie laughed and fluffed her own hair, "Come on." She paused at the door. "Remember tonight your name is Solange. You answer only to that, got it?"
Sarah nodded, and sighed. "I'll happily keep my real name out of this."
Slowly they descended the staircase to find Pablo awaiting them at the last stair. "How beautiful you both look." He kissed Sophie warmly and smiled at Sarah. "Good evening, Solange."
Sarah looked at him with scorn and contempt. "Pablo." She followed as he and the blonde headed for the gallery room. "Is HE putting in an appearance tonight?"
Pablo snickered to himself, it was clear to him that the dark haired vixen was a long way from being tamed. "I'm sure he will. It is after all his home."
"With or with out his mask?" She asked herself under her breath.
The gallery was beautifully lit, and there were tables and chairs here and there. A flowing fountain of champagne was a centerpiece on a refreshment table. Sparkling crystal chandleries hung and looked like a fairytale dream casting little rainbows here and there. On the walls hung the numerous works Sophie had finished. Some penciled drawings were framed as well as the oils and water colors she'd done.
Sarah began to walk down the gallery inspecting the pictures. One painting caught Sarah's attention and held her captive. It was a likeness of her in the Grecian gown she'd worn on Halloween. She was seated on a pillar, and the gown had been pulled down, her breast were revealed. Behind her on bent knee was a man or part of a man. His hands on her forearms, and his knee under her leg. Of his head there was only a small portion, a leather mask over blonde hair held back in a queue at the back of his head. He appeared to be kissing her back. Sarah swallowed. "Sophie…what is this?"
"My imagination run wild…or Wilde as the case may be." Sophie giggled erotically. "Did I come close?"
Sarah felt as if she were naked and on an auction block. "Too close." She admitted.
Pablo joined them with a glass of non-alcoholic punch for each of them. "She has a good eye this one!" He praised. "And sees even what is not shown."
Sarah refused the punch. "Some things should remain private, Sophie." She walked away from the pair and moved toward the foyer. Sarah was stopped as she arrived in the doorway. She looked up at the man blocking her path. "How could you allow her to show that?" She asked forlorn.
The man in the leather mask looked at where Sophie and Pablo stood. "How could I not?" He asked. "It is a victory that should be celebrated."
Sarah could not move past him, he placed a hand to her arm and held her fast. "Let me go, I'll not participate in this."
"You will," He warned. "And you will behave." He heard guests at the door. "Take my arm." He ordered.
Sarah saw the people coming in, placed her hand in his bent elbow and allowed him to usher her back into the room. "I hate you." She whispered abrasively.
"I'm sure you do." He whispered back.
The critics and gallery owners moved though the gallery. Many paused before the picture labeled 'Girl on Lace' and others before the one labeled 'Kiss of Leather.' Sarah listened dispassionate to the praise. She stood with Sophie who was looking like she could explode with pride.
A rather heavy set man stood before the painting owned by the man in the leather mask. "I think this is excellent. I say, could I talk you into selling it to me?"
The Master shook his head. "Not for all the gold in the world."
The man cast an offensively rude glace at Sarah. "Perhaps one of the others, or the young lady herself?"
The Master said quietly. "Privately reserved for me alone," his words carried weight.
"Ah." The man laughed coarsely. "How lucky you are to have so ripe a peach."
Jareth under the mask flinched. "Yes." He looked at where Sarah stood now by herself. "I'm very lucky." He moved toward the girl. "Come with me." His hand went under her elbow as he directed her toward the hall.
"Where?" She looked back at the room of admirers.
Opening the door to the elevator, he said firmly. "Down."
Sarah thought about making a scene, she wondered if any of the others would even care. She feared some would even applaud if he accosted her publicly. She entered the elevator and stood silently as it descended to the bowels of the house. On the lower level he ushered her into a room that was clearly used to view movies. She turned and looked at the man blocking her. "Sorry, dirty movies are not my thing." She said refusing to enter the theater.
"If you were the star attraction?" He suggested.
Sarah looked up at him with anger. "You didn't."
"No, I didn't." He teased. "I brought you here so we could chat privately." He motioned her to take a seat.
Sarah shook her head, not liking it, but complying.
The man reached smoothly into his jacket's inner pocket. "I've a gift for you, Green eyes."
Sarah frowned, "I don't want a …" She looked at the long black case. "What is that?"
The Master handed the case to her. "Open it." He watched as her mouth dropped at the sight of the long string of unusual pearls in a soft pinkish hue. "Sophie mentioned you'd be in basic black this evening. Every woman should own one really good string of pearls."
"Their real?" She looked at the pearls and could not help but see how lovely they were.
"Of course." He reached out to stroke her cheek. "I would never give you anything that was faux. Allow me." He lifted the string out of the case, unfastened the clasp and placed it on her. "Perfect." He said softly.
Sarah looked down at the string, "I can't.
"shhhh." He leaned forward capturing her lips. "Accept what is."
What Sarah heard was another voice saying, 'What's said, is said.'