Chapter 6: Basil

The rest of the trip had gone by without a hitch and in the first gloom of twilight, Miss Fisher and her entourage finally arrived at their destination. The Villa lay impressively in the darkening light, with its big white window and stone walls. A pergola, covered in grapevines lead up the steps to the entrance and the women followed the owner, an elderly lady who could not seem to stop talking, with some awe, while the men unloaded their luggage from the cart that had brought them here. One of the horses whinnied in impatience that Jack could more than understand. The lead in his muscles reminded him, that this day had been a long one. Despite this, he probably should be polite enough to at least pay a quick visit to his uncle and whoever else had arrived already. He yawned, watched by Mr. Butler, who had gained some colour back to his cheeks. At least he seemed to enjoy the trip so far, with every kilometer that separated him from the reason of his breaking heart, appearing to return him more to his old self. While the Inspector was relieved about this, he also wondered if it was the right decision to just cut and run. Not that he blamed the servant for being scared of the heartache, but it seemed kind of cowardly to him to just flee town. And being a coward was something he had never associated with Mr. Butler. Then again, he himself had attempted something similar some time ago – in vain.

He still pondered this, when he stepped through the door into a big hall and disposed of the first lot of suitcases there to follow the women into the kitchen. French doors opened out onto a big garden with soft looking grass and a variety of plants, but that wasn't what caught his attention. It was the lake whose little waves glittered in the evening light that really took his breath away.

"It's beautiful," he whispered to Phryne, who had opened one of the doors and stared out into the coming night. Jack resisted the urge to wrap himself around her and forget about the other people lingering around them.

"And you haven't even seen our bedroom yet," Phryne grinned, equally quietly, taking him by the hand and pulling him upstairs. The Inspector considered protesting that there was still plenty of luggage to be dragged into the house but the discovery of a bedroom with Miss Fisher promised much more fun than hat boxes. The silly argument Prudence and Mac were currently entangled in about the style of some part of the sitting room faded into the background, when they reached the upper landing. Phryne lead her Inspector all the way down to the other end of the hall and pushed a door open. The first thing he saw was the huge four-poster bed, with it's crisp white sheets and curtains, then the view out over the lake, that was, if it was possible, even more breathtaking up here. The moon that had been in hiding now appeared as a pale thin sickle on the evening sky, and the retreating sunlight was currently dipping the forests framing the waterline into shades of orange and gold. The first stars glittered somewhere high in the sky that was turning a dark shade of violet.

"What do you think?" Phryne asked, with an air of utter excitement, opening the window. Jack found her flushed face so enchanting right now, that he could barely speak. Instead he chose to slip his fingers into her hair and pull her in for a lingering kiss.

"I guess you like it," she whispered when they retreated, noticing the shortness of his breath.

"Is there a key to this door?" the Inspector asked instead of answering.

"In the lock," Miss Fisher replied, without tearing her eyes from him. It took Jack some strength to make the few steps over to the door and slip the iron bolt across. When he turned, she was standing right behind him, pushing him with some vigour back against the wood and attacking his mouth with hers. The Inspector barely managed to get enough room in between their bodies to start unbuttoning her coat. There was warm skin somewhere to be found under all the layers of her travelling gear and his trashing fingers were determined to make it out. This was rendered somewhat harder by the fact that she was still taking his breath away by wrestling his tongue with hers, not releasing his mouth long enough to drag air into his lungs. Her hands however were busy relieving him of the burden of his own clothes. His top coat had already hit the floor he found and his coat was currently stuck at his elbows, as he was unwilling to let go of her long enough to get rid of it. He pushed her gently back, towards where the incredibly soft looking mattress was waiting on its occupants, leaving a trail of clothes behind in their wake. His vest did a disappearing act shortly after her skirt. Her blouse turned out to be rather tricky with way too many buttons and seams where they shouldn't be.

Jack's frustration grew, till he finally resolved to just pull the damned thing over her head to finally slip his fingers over the silk that barely disguised the hidden treasures from his wandering hands. Phryne moaned somewhere in the back of her throat under his touch and opened the buttons of his pants with the ease of a woman, who had had some practice in the matter. In fact, his hat was the last thing that flew away into the soft night air, after they had fallen onto the bed, before Miss Fisher gave into Jacks hands and mouth, roaming the thin layer of golden silk covering her skin. When his tongue found her nipple through the fabric, she moved her hips against him, urging him to stop teasing her, but Jack had no intentions of the kind. They were on a holiday after all, and what was the point of that, if not to take their time? He did not voice that however, as Phryne was turning the tables on him, rolling him onto his back and pulling his hands over his head in a death grip, that one would not have expected from her slim fingers. Despite the thin layer of cool fabric still separating them, he groaned loudly as she moved against him. A content smirk appeared on her lips, where the red had smeared somewhat and had probably become mostly attached to his face and other parts of his body by now. Alright, possibly teasing her had not been the best move, it occurred to the Inspector somewhere in the haze of lust clouding his brain, as she played his body like a well tuned piano. But the thought was gone as fast as it had come, while he squirmed underneath her, all but begging her to show mercy on him. But Miss Fisher had no intentions of the kind. They were on holiday after all.

X

Darkness had fallen over the Lake Villa by the time, Miss Fisher had finished with her Inspector and sated herself. Still panting, she turned to Jack, who was lying on his back, catching his breath. They both knew that they had to reappear soon. They had a house full of people and there would be uncomfortable questions if they gave into the temptation of simply cuddling up and going to sleep. But they could allow themselves a few more precious moments without too much drama attached. Miss Fisher looked at her lover, who was stretched out on the formerly crisp sheets with a giddy form of happiness. There was something so strong and at the same time vulnerable to his naked body in the night blue light falling through the window, that made her want to wrap him in her arms and not let go. Damn her family, damn his family. She smiled, considering curling up against his chest and forgetting that there were other people in the world, when loud rapping tore her from her thoughts.

"Are you alright in there Phryne? You have been gone some time and I think I heard something like a scream."

The Inspector repressed a grin at this. Miss Fisher could get rather vocal at times.

"Perfectly fine, Aunt P," she called out sweetly. "Just getting ready for Dinner."

There was silence at the other end of the door.

"You wouldn't know where the Inspector is, would you? He left poor Mr. Butler all alone with the luggage," Mrs. Stanley finally asked suspiciously. Jack pressed his lips together, trying to keep himself from bursting into laughter, while his lover called out: "I have no idea, Aunt P. I'll be down shortly."

Grumbling the older lady bustled off.

"So Inspector, after I saved you from the wrath of my Aunt, do you think we should go down for dinner?"

"I suppose we will have to," he sighed theatrically, sitting up. "I have to hand it to you though, Miss Fisher, you are quite the liar."

"I have to be Jack, or I wouldn't be any good at my job," she smiled, slipping into something in the colour of blooming lavender. Jack had to think about this. He guessed, she did have to fib her way through her investigations here and there.

"Would you mind?" she asked, turning her back to him. As he closed the buttons of her dress, he couldn't help but wonder, how often she had told him white little lies over time. Not that it really mattered; he knew that she was sincere in the important things. He brushed off the thoughts by kissing her white shoulder.

"Inspector, if you keep going down this road, we will have to stay up here after all," Phryne said, turning. He wiped a rest of lipstick off her cheek and smirked.

"That would be indeed tragic, Miss Fisher."

She rolled her eyes at him in mock annoyance and left him behind in the bedroom to remove all traces of her make-up from himself, before following her downstairs. It was probably better to throw Aunt Prudence of their trail while they could. Music greeted her when she approached the sitting room. Mac and Jane had found the gramophone, with the doctor teaching the teenager some dancing moves. Aunt Prudence sat on the sofa, watching them with a sort of fond disgust. Amused, Miss Fisher stood in the doorframe for a moment, before heading over to the kitchen, where Dot was stirring in a big pot and Mr. Butler chopping herbs. The smell of basil and tomato hung in the air, reminding Miss Fisher's stomach that she hadn't eaten since an early lunch. Hungrily she lingered behind Dot, looking over the maid's shoulder into the pot.

"That smells fantastic, Dot."

"Thank you, Miss. I wanted to try this recipe for a while and it just seemed perfect here."

"It really is the most wonderful food for this place, Dorothy," smiled Mr. Butler, bringing over the chopped Basil, while Miss Fisher stole a spoonful of the tomato sauce out of the pot. "This area has a rich Italian heritage."

"I believe, this villa was built by Italian immigrants," Phryne stated, after she had gotten over burning her tongue in her spell of greed.

"That explains this strange architecture," a voice said from the door. Miss Fisher turned, hiding the dirty spoon behind her back and smiled sweetly at her aunt.

"I'm glad you are enjoying the ambience, Aunt P."

Mrs. Stanley held out her empty wineglass to Mr. Butler, who eagerly refilled it, before answering her niece.

"It is certainly different. But I didn't expect anything else from the countryside."

Phryne rolled her eyes at this and poured herself a glass of red wine. She was starting to enjoy this whole holiday thing. But they weren't here to have a pleasant time. And as much as Phryne pretended to Jack, that she wasn't worried, her knees went weak at the idea that his family might hate her.

X

Miss Fisher might have been interested in the fact that she was currently the subject of dinner conversation in another house, not far away.

"So she actually talked a serial-killer out of shooting Jack's ex-wife?" asked Aunt Esmeralda's somewhat muffled voice, as if she had forgotten to swallow in her excitement.

"So Rosie tells me," Iris insisted. "It must have been quite the speech too. And then Jack stands in the door, holding a pistol..."

Iris Walker trailed off, as the new maid bustled in quietly, whispering eagerly to the lady of the house. Esmeralda rose, laying down her serviette.

"Apparently there is someone at the door claiming to be expected. Please excuse me. And don't you dare finish the story, before I'm back," she said warningly in the direction of her niece. Iris smiled, returning her attention to the fish on her plate.

Mrs. Cox-Stafford didn't recognise the man in the gloomy hall light, till he turned.

"Jack!" she yelled, dragging her surprised nephew into a hug. "I didn't know you were coming up today already. Your uncle neglected the mention it, the sly dog. How are you? Look at you, all respectable Detective-Inspector. Does your new girl make you wear those clothes in your time off?"

Jack Robinson found himself speechless at the flood of words coming towards him. But before he could point out that he had been wearing a three-piece-suit as daily armour pretty much since the end of the War, he had already been pulled into the dining room, where eyes flew up.

"Look at who the cat dragged in!" Aunt Esmeralda prompted, even though nobody in the room had missed the man who had walked through the door. Jack blushed at all the attention, but his anxiously searching eye didn't find the one person he dreaded meeting.

"Please... don't get up." His hands rose in a calming gesture, as he heard chairs screeching over the floor. "I'm sorry to burst into your dinner, I just wanted to drop by briefly-"

"Stop talking and sit down." A laughing female voice interrupted him.

"Hazel!" Olivia scolded, laughing herself. "I'm sorry Jack, I fear my daughter is still as rude as ever."

"And we wouldn't have her any other way," Uncle Walter said, finally pulling his nephew into a bone crushing hug and shoving him onto a chair. Jack was overtaken by something that was the familiar feeling of belonging. He had actually really missed this, he noticed.

"So where is this Miss Fisher of yours?" Esmeralda asked, pouring him an unasked for drink. "Don't tell me you're hiding her from us? We aren't that terrible."

"Well, at least we pretend not to be." Rupert Walker grinned, earning himself a gentle shove from his wife. Jack took a sip of wine with a fond smile, trying to find an answer to their question.

"Miss Fisher actually insisted on meeting you. She told me, I've hidden you long enough." His grin grew broader. "We just arrived though and they are still settling in, so I chose to go for an evening walk to say hello."

He took another sip of his glass, while more excited chatter filled the room.

"You must come for breakfast tomorrow," Uncle Walter urged. "Otherwise my wife will explode of curiosity."

"That might well happen," Hazel Morgan stated, finishing her own drink, "but seriously Jack, I need to meet this woman, who runs through Melbourne knife-wielding and killer-hunting."

Inspector Robinson sought out Iris' eyes, wondering what she had told her family about Phryne. There was no hostility there, even the faintest idea of a smile and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"We would love to," he finally said, causing more excitement. "There is only one small problem." Jack stated loudly over the busy chatter, "We might have brought a few more people than we intended to."