I don't remember the last time I ate so heartily as I did during that dinner. I wasn't expecting the food to be so good because high-profile dinner parties like these don't usually have well thought-out menus. They are mostly never about the food. But the 9-course meal was really something and it almost made me forget that I was sitting in the hall with some of the most influential politicians and businessmen of Western Europe and North America. I should have felt very much out of place being a casual guest of this man who clearly held a lot more power than he led the world to believe. His estate so far away from any major city. You might have read some obscure passage mention of Frank owing to first marriage to a Hollywood actress, but you would be hard pressed to find anything on his father. He seemed to have achieved the Utopian version of the success of modern world- being virtually unknown yet extremely influential.
The taste of my favorite dish from the meal (smoked salmon with poblano chilli aioli) was still very much in my very being by the time I reached my room. Watermelon borscht, parboiled lentils with harissa sauce served on black rice, lamb chops with thick cream of mushroom gravy, red snapper ravioli (I still don't understand how it is even structurally possible), a minimalist & medium rare wagyu with nothing but garlic-infused soy sauce served with a tiny pile of rock salt. I felt like my appetite was stimulated to levels it was back when I was teenager- only then I used to eat exclusively trash junk food instead of this lavish spread of exotic meats. Not to mention the consistent assault of merlot that I weathered throughout the night. I was so inebriated on the decadent dinner that I have practically no memory of how I even made it all the way to my room- only a small moment when I registered a pang of pain of high heels sticks out to me.
I was preparing to take off my make up after unsheathing the dress and tumbling dangerously out of my shoes but the moment by body (bloated by the glutton) was liberated, I simply collapsed on the bed in just my panties and a face full of stale make up. I thought about making the effort to move, but my last memory of the night was my open mouth emitting a gentle snore onto my pillow.
A mass of distant but distinctly masculine voices reached me a few hours later. I dozed back, thinking it was the last rumblings of the manor staff clearing away the decadence of the dinner party; but a loud crash roused my attention. I looked outside my window only to get an obscured view of the periphery of a crowd lighted in the dark night by some nebulous and amorphous source. I realized that they were all gesturing violently towards the barn that was on the other side of my view. I grabbed my dressing robe- black satin with pale pink fur lining (my favorite because it was knee length and I can channelize my inner noir femme fatale without me feeling like a toddler swaddled in her mother's old gown).
I walked out in the hall and tried to make out another view of the barn from the tall windows of the ornate staircase. I now saw more the crowd and their shadows swaying in the light of what I gathered was a large fire. I thought about climbing up the set of stairs right in front of me before glancing at the slightly ajar library door and the bay window inside already showing me the full view of the eventful disaster. I went in straight to the settee by the window and saw the barn burning gloriously. What I was privy to till now was probably a crowd of the nearby villagers. On the other side of the fire I saw the staff of the manor hurrying back and forth with buckets of water. Horses were tied on one side of the foreground and the old man who I saw earlier in the evening before leaving for the party was sitting with the left side of his forehead bleeding. Just as I wondered how long it would take for the firefighters to arrive at such a scene (what even was the closest civilization?), one fire truck rolled up the meadow atop which sat the erstwhile barn.
I was completely soaking the baroque drama of the burning barn. I am not accurate, but it seemed that it was some 5-6 kilometers away from where I was looking and the distance and the smoke added so much flair to the night that I sat leaning on the black velvet cushion completely mesmerized by it. I have never wanted more to be an impressionist painter than in that moment. I was gripped with a sudden urge to leave this feeling for humanity to witness till the end of time. Every now and then a gust of cold wind would bring in the smell of burning wood (gladly not of burning horse meat) diluted by the perfect amount in the autumn night breeze. It felt like smoking but without the neurological hit of nicotine.
Suddenly, the voice of a heavy chair scraping on marble filled the library with its marvellous echo that made my heart leaped all the way to my throat. It is funny how despite being here only a couple of days, my mind automatically considered the empty state of this library as the most normal, organic state of its existence and the thought of another human being being present here plunged me straight into the realm of uncanny valley. After a short pause, crisp sounds of someone coming up the stairs made me move away from the window but not too far away from the settee while I fumbled at my gown to ensure propriety. I was already preparing my polite yet formal response to any potential questions by what I presumed to be another servant until the face of Kabir emerged in the dim light by the stairs from where he emerged.
I was exerting all of my cognitive abilities to focus the lens of my cognizance in a way that made most sense to me as my subconscious choosing the path of least resistance was causing me chronological whiplash. I obviously didn't realise that I was scrunching my face harder than a pubescent chess grandmaster playing against a pre-pubsecent girl from the former Soviet Union. The minutes between now and the dinner party seemed to vanish as I saw the look on Kabir's to go from mild curiosity to confusion to clarity.
"I didn't knew you were a guest of the Darcy's" I said as he slowly moved closer in better light- primarily coming from the burning barn.
"Neither did I" he said beholding me from top to bottom as I stood there with my arms tightly crossed.
The sounds coming from the barn became louder and drew both of our attention towards it. Kabir walked towards the window to get a better view but didn't say anything. The most emotion his gruffly-carved face revealed was amusement teetering on the edge of boredom, as if fires are something he witness on a daily basis. He stood leaning on the window ledge but not facing the scene squarely.
"How well do you know the Darcys?" I asked.
"My mother was a college friend of Mr. Darcy" he said, "What about you?"
"My father, childhood pals" I said as I looked at him as framed by the fire. The brightness obscured a lot of his face but the ghost of a smile by his mouth was still visible, along with the dark red woolen dress robe he had on. The front revealed majority of his chest that was dense with thick hair and closed somewhere above his abdomen, not that it was easy to tell in the dim light.
"Your room must be nearby if the fire woke you up" he said.
"Yeah its just the one across from this big door" I swayed around to gesture towards the third floor entrance.
He responded by following my gaze and nodding gently. The sound of sirens and increasing number of people in the crowd reached us in a subdued form and populated the silence where I racked my conscience to get out of this situation before I do anything stupid or reckless. It wasn't pleasant to rein myself in like that. If I was in London, it would mean nothing. If he was someone else, it wouldn't have mattered. But I met a guy who looked this good in a very long time, and something about his narrow, piercing eyes and long nose made him stand out more as a person in a crowd of dicks that I have been swimming in since Aidan. Running into Darcy again made me feel like I haven't moved in any direction. And now I am standing in front of this man who for some reason, seemed already so elevated above every other asshole I met.
"I wish I got to talk to you more at the dinner, but you seemed kind of checked out" he said a bit softly.
"What do you mean?"
"Like you were distracted, you didn't want to be there."
"Yeah these dinner parties usually suck a lot. At least the food was good tonight."
"Yeah I don't like coming to the Darcys much if I am being honest. They're good and all and Frank is a great guy, I'm sure, I don't know" he said as he furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't know him that well. My family know his father mainly through my mother. My father became closer to James more than my mother though, even after her death."
"I'm so sorry, when did she die?" I asked moving closer.
"Almost two years now" he said coolly, "cancer."
"That sucks."
"Yeah pretty much, but that's life." he smiled at me, "what do you do then, Liz? Hope you don't mind me calling you that?"
"That's absolutely fine" I flustered and blushed like a coy idiot, "I'm a writer."
"Oh? You working on something?"
"Yeah a couple of projects here and there" why did I lie?
"What are they about?"
"Well, one is set during the Russian Revo.." I got interrupted by a crashing sound from the arson drama going on literally in the background, followed by an exasperated gust of exclamations more excited than any that came before.
I swiftly moved to the window besides Kabir to get a better view. A part of the wooden frame of the barn roof had collapsed, exposing an upper platform to the flames. The chatter of villagers and firefighters grew more frantic.
"You don't see a fire everyday" I said in a haze that came over me almost out of nowhere as if I was transfixed by the carnage. I turned my head around and realized that I was perched on the corner of the settee, right besides Kabir. His face was brightly lit now and I studied his features more closely. They were rugged- heavy brow, narrow eyes and mouth, prominent nose and a complexion a deep mix of olive, almonds and bronze. Despite their smallness his brown eyes were truly hypnotic and he seemed to possess the ability to express shades of debonair that were very effortless. His mouth however he has trained to balance between stoic sternness and boyishly disarming smile that was always present even when he was gripped by desire, as he was right now.
I felt his hand on my back and even though he just placed it there gently, I slowly turned around and knelt on the settee so that my head for roughly at the same height as his in his standing position. I was looking down at his chin (cleft, of course), neck, chest, the knot on his robe, bare legs (his robe ended a little below his knees). All this while he was moving his large warm palm on my cheeks, lips, neck.
I don't know if I should be doing this. My heart was beating so hard in my chest I thought that the villagers beyond can hear it. He moved his other hand at the string of my robe and tried to undo it. I caught his hand abruptly and paused the momentum of the moment as he pulled back slightly to look me in the eyes.
"I… I don't know if we…" I said in breathy way while moving my eyes all over his face. He kept silent, waiting for me to complete my concern. After a few unbearably awkward seconds I finally fixed my gaze on his face that was dripping with passion and anticipation- his eyes drunk with longing and his lips parted with desperation. I felt the heat of his heart penetrate my soul and immediately lost control of all behavior and became very visibly enamored by his beautiful wide lips. I didn't realize that I had the hand that had a few seconds ago arrested his movement on my robe was on his chest by now and a devious smile slowly curled onto his glorious face.
Satisfied in his judgement about what I really wanted, he undid the string and softly parted the opening. He swiftly looked at my exposed torso before cradling my face in both his hands, "You don't see a fire everyday, Liz" he said as he gently pulled my face into his mouth and melted my entire faculty of speech and comprehension in the sweet heat of his all-encompassing kisses. He would occasionally take even my chin, but I was too distracted by my hands undoing his robe and slowly sliding them under his boxers.
After a few minutes we were both naked except for our lower bodies and so desperately embracing each other that it felt like hell to separate even for a second.
"Wait a minute" he whispered. He pulled away and reached for his woollen robe. He spread it on the floor in front of the settee. He then clutched my right angle and gently tugged on it to indicate that I ought to follow. I knelt on one end of the robe and saw a corner that was folded on itself. As I bent over on my knees to fix it, he has pulled down my panties and shoved it all in in a quick but clean take. I was wetter than a waterfall but still let out a full-bodied moan of ecstasy for the entire moment it took him to plunge it all in to the hilt. It might be the biggest one I have ever took in my life, I thought as I felt like he was going to keep going in all the way to my intestines. Not to mention the extra stuff that I usually don't find in other men, on account of his possible religion.
We lay there curled up on the robe, collapsed, till the sky out the window turned lilac-grey. I was awoken by the thick sounds of birds coming from the forest and felt Kabir's heavy arm around my waist.
"Shit" I said with a coarse throat, "We have to go, Kabir, wake up!" I nudged on his wide chest. He opened his eyes gently and immediately got up, fully understanding the urgency without any further prompting. He quickly got up and picked up his boxer with his left and threw me my panties without looking at me. We wore them together and he stood up and handed me my robe lying on the settee.
I wrapped it around me as I saw the burnt barn in the cold morning light. Some thick columns of smoke emerged from different points on an otherwise flattened mass of black rubble. It was jarring to see the space devoid of any humans, compared to just a few hours ago when it was spilling with people. There were a few SUVs parked a bit away from it but I couldn't see anyone around them.
Kabir placed his hands around me from behind and kissed my neck. I smiled drowsily and turned around.
"We should get to our rooms" I murmured into his chest.
"We should get each others' numbers" he said.
"When I have my phone" I said, "and clothes where I can keep my phone" I chuckled.
He planted a long kiss on my lips. "Hopefully I'll see you at breakfast, before you leave." he said before walking down the stairs through which he came up last night. I stood at the top of the stairs to see him cross the large central hall of the library. He turned around to look above where I stood and gave me a quick wink and grin before disappearing out of the hall.
Despite being asleep for barely 3 hours, I felt well-rested. Hell, I was even feeling weirdly optimistic in a long time. I imagined my series of trivial one-night stands till now as so unnecessary and futile. I started rapidly imagining, in quick flashes, a life of monogamy with a guy like Kabir. A year or two of dating, marriage. I didn't even knew what he did or where he lived, but no matter what scenario I placed him in he was nothing but honey-sweet and warm. His hands, as big as my face, caressing every part of my body. He was the same everywhere. I had to talk to him again. I needed to take his number before he leaves. Surely he'll stay for breakfast. I turned around resolutely to dash to my room and get dressed as quickly as possible.
I stepped out the heavy door into the corridor that was coldly lit in the morning light thanks to an overcast sky. I was practically smiling to myself as I crossed the hall.
"Let me guess, Insomnia?" Frank's voice boomed behind me as I froze at the handle of my room door. I took a long exasperated sigh and cursed myself for completely forgetting about his physical presence under the orgiastic influence of last night.
I turned around to find him leaning against another door down the hall, presumably his room? I don't know if it was, I thought this part of the wing was just for guests. He stared at my partly exposed chest under the shabbily wrapped robe, but I didn't felt self-conscious about it for some reason.
"Yeah… Couldn't sleep much" I replied trying to fake affectation.
"What about the burning barn? Wasn't it distracting?"
"For a bit but I moved to the other side to read"
"What were you reading?"
"Ada, by Vladimir Nabokov" I heard myself saying as I panicked hoping that this oversized library surely had a copy of it, lest I get caught.
"What's it about?"
"Its a love story, kind of…"
"Kind of?"
"Yeah its incest"
"Oh?" he said while being somewhat impressed.
"I have to get ready for breakfast" I said trying to be curt.
"You remember Kabir, from last night?" he said.
"Yeah, why?" I asked as I was pretty sure I was visibly shaking. Please don't get caught.
"Nothing he was asking about you. I think he likes you."
"Okay…" I said trying to be casual and pretending that I was thinking about him now for the first time in hours.
"Do you like him?" he asked playfully with a crooked.
I paused to consider Frank. What does he want me to say? Why is he telling me this? Does it matters to me if he cares? I should be moving forward, right?
"What do you think?"
"He is not a bad guy. Rich, nice family, nice job. Been looking for a nice girl to settle with for a while." he said looking at the tall window by the staircase. "Easy on the eyes too, I know many girls ready to jump on his brown cock at the drop of a hat"
I felt a blob of acid running up my throat from my stomach. Was this some kind of game he is playing? Or is he really completely oblivious? What is he trying to do? I can see that he is trying to get me in a bind- what exactly that bind is, I don't know if even he is sure about that.
"What do you want me to think?" I clarified my previous question a bit.
He moved towards me in his grey tshirt and lilac cotton pajamas (not what I expected him to wear while sleeping). He fixed his eyes on my chest for the most of it but then without warning looked up at my face. It seemed like he was searching for something to latch on to, so that he have something to say in response to me. I was still busy trying to figure out if he knew.
"I want you to think" he said standing besides me now, "about what you really want."
"What does that mean?" I asked, taken aback.
"You can spend your life chasing pretty butterflies in meadows of flowers and what not but don't fool yourself into believing that its what you really want"
"And you know what I want? You have always known what is best for me?"
"I never claimed to know what is best for you, but I have always seen a part of you no one has and I do know what you want"
"And what is that, exactly?" I said injecting all the sarcasm and cynicism I can.
He cocked his head and gave that same smile he did when we first met all those years ago. Another unintentional gesture that punctured my hard-earned sense of time. He suddenly pulled me close to him by holding me by my waist and put his mouth near my left ear.
"I know you want me" he whispered in a hot breath. I stood there paralyzed by the unexplained weight of those words as he walked backwards while maintaining eye contact and made sure that the moment was prolonged enough to make the maximum possible impact. He then turned around and went down the stairs whistling a tune as if he just came from a jog and didn't just utterly demolish my morale.
I dragged down my suitcase trying to make as less noise as possible, but the large empty hallways constantly echoed the loud thumps of both my luggage and my feet. Not that it mattered, there was nobody here yet. I was hoping for some staff at least who can relay my note to papa.
I stepped out in the harsh wind that stabbed at my face and regretted not packing more warm clothes, but I was willing to bear it all in silence to focus completely on getting out of here. I have to walk towards the bus station in the village nearby that was some 4 KM away from this estate, never mind that the distance from here to the entry was probably 3 KM (I am very inaccurate here). I started walking on the gravelly path looking around hoping to find some gardener. I decided on handing the note to the security staff at the gates considering all the labor employed in the upkeep of this castle seem to have disappeared.
"Kind of early, isn't it?" a booming voice made me jump out of my skin as I approached the driveway. I turned around and felt the adrenaline rising in my gut on seeing Frank, but adjusting my eyes to the cold, wet wind his father's face snapped into quick focus. He was dressed in a t shirt and joggers and despite being slightly pink and sweaty (signs of a recent jog) was not panting.
"I have some work related emergency" I said in a trembling voice. Pulling the suitcase on my own made my breaths short and standing in front of what was clearly a jacked 60-something I felt humiliated at being so out of shape.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
"Yeah just something I remembered I had to do before my meeting with the publisher"
"My son Frank wanted to meet you" he said coming closer.
"Yeah I did see him" I said looking down at my shoes. Why do you think I'm dragging myself away from here you old cock?
"I heard you had a brief affair with him" he said in a firm tone. I was a bit taken aback by his straightforwardness. It seemed to be a Darcy trait.
"It was a very long time ago" I said, "before I moved to LA and then here."
"So you are still running away from him?"
"What?"
"Its a Saturday morning, 6:30 AM" he said flashing his smartwatch to first himself then at me, "you won't get any uber for at least 4KM- what do you kids call it if not running away?"
I stood there stunned by how unfiltered and out of left field he was being without any warning or warming up. I was so unprepared for our first non-formal interaction to be so harsh. I just stared at him through the mist dumbfounded not just by his directness but also by my inability to think a half-decent response to his accusations. It was so surreal to have someone dissect your entire life of past few years in such a surgically quick and thorough manner.
A distant shout from a servant beckoning another broke my trance and my mind went back to trying to salvage myself from this situation. Noticing the note in my hand, I moved it towards him-
"Can you give this to my father?"
He eyed me warily (exactly like Frank does) and took the folded piece of paper (a tiny notepad that was on my bedside) slowly. I was immediately overtook by a feeling of shame about it. It wasn't anything dramatic, just telling papa about how I had to go to London because Dean called and the publisher has pushed our meeting and I had to complete somethings. But I thought about what if I didn't hand him the note, what if I quietly turned around and went back into the manor. What if I didn't run away from him? Doesn't it say something that despite everywhere I have been, despite all my fucking around, despite everything, Frank still made me bolt? I had an amazing night with a significantly better man and none of that mattered? What if, for once, I sat down with him. Not even saying anything, just being in his presence. When was the last time I did that with any man?
"I can send my driver to drop you to the railway station" he said, "there is a train at 9 to London"
I ignored him and started walking towards the gate. I don't know how exactly I will get home but I had to get out no matter what.
I stepped outside the gate and turned to look at the main building of the manor. I wondered if Kabir was still sleeping in there. I felt a bitter tug at my heart- I wish I had his number.