THE FOLLOWING MONDAY was a strange day at the gallery. Cressida, her mind full of what Kevin had said at the party on the Saturday evening, longed for a chance to go through the files in Marcia’s office again, but she couldn’t think how to create an opportunity for herself.
Leonora, who turned up for work in a pair of palazzo pants and a white halterneck top which left nothing to the imagination, started the day in a good temper for once. When Guy arrived with Marcia, Leonora positively sparkled and Cressida was fascinated by the change in the girl. Guy, however, looked to be in anything but a sparkling frame of mind, and when Leonora got no response she quickly retreated into her more familiar mood of apathetic silence.
Cressida watched Guy prowling around the rooms, restlessly fingering the pictures, readjusting them, changing the arrangements and generally seething with nervous energy. He also jumped every time the phone or the bell over the door went and Cressida wondered who or what he was waiting for.
After lunch she tried to draw Leonora out because the atmosphere was getting her down and for once there was little work to keep her occupied. ‘How did your dinner party go – the one with your stepmother and the friend of your father?’ she asked. ‘Was it grim?’
To her surprise Leonora turned her head and glared at her. ‘No, it wasn’t grim. Why should you think that?’
‘Well, you weren’t looking forward to it much on Friday afternoon,’ Cressida pointed out. ‘You said that you and Piers were missing a party just to keep your stepmother sweet.’
‘Did I?’ Leonora appeared to have forgotten all that. ‘Actually it was a great evening. One of the best I’ve ever had.’
Cressida laughed. ‘Your father’s friend must have been rather special!’
‘He was,’ said Leonora softly. ‘He was very special indeed.’ As she spoke she glanced down the gallery to where Guy was standing with a framed painting in his hand, looking as though he’d like to throw it on a bonfire.
‘It wasn’t Guy, was it?’ asked Cressida curiously.
‘Of course it wasn’t!’ protested Leonora furiously. ‘What a stupid thing to say.’
‘Sorry, but I know he’s acquainted with your father and –’
‘How do you know?’ demanded Leonora, her cheeks pink.
‘Because Marcia told me,’ said Cressida calmly, acutely aware that Chief Inspector Williams had told her as well. ‘That’s why you’re working here, isn’t it?’
‘Oh, well, yes I suppose it is,’ agreed Leonora, but it was plain she didn’t want to continue talking to Cressida any more and for the first time ever she went and picked up a catalogue and started studying it without being asked.
Cressida’s intuition told her that Leonora was lying. She felt certain that Guy had been the visitor on the Friday night, but why Leonora should have denied it, or enjoyed herself so much, was a mystery. She was still thinking about this when the phone went. ‘Is Guy there?’ asked a well-spoken woman.
‘I’m not sure,’ hedged Cressida, who knew that Guy hated taking unexpected calls. ‘I’ll see if he’s left yet. Who shall I say is calling?’
‘Lady Alice Summers,’ replied the woman.
Cressida realised that this must be the widow of the man whose fake pictures had sparked off the investigation and she took a few seconds to compose herself before putting the receiver down on the table and walking over to Guy.
‘There’s a Lady Alice Summers on the phone,’ she said quietly. ‘Do you want to speak to her?’
Guy’s eyes flickered with amusement. ‘How very tactfully you put that, Cressida! Yes, I think I do. Would you mind putting it through to the office for me, please.’
Cressida did as he asked. She desperately wanted to stay on the line and listen to the conversation, but it was too risky with Leonora sitting close by. Also, she wasn’t sure whether or not a light on the consul in the office would give her away if she didn’t replace her receiver. It was very frustrating to see the line engaged for the next twenty minutes but have no idea what the two were talking about, and she decided to mention a possible phone bug to her chief when she next rang him.
Soon after the call ended, Guy left the gallery. He didn’t look at Leonora but gave Cressida a warm smile. ‘Marcia and I are planning a little party later in the week. You and Rick must come,’ he said casually.
‘That would be lovely,’ said Cressida. ‘You ought to check with Rick though. He might want to bring someone else.’
‘No he won’t, because I want him to bring you,’ said Guy as he walked out of the door.
Leonora watched him go and promptly burst into tears. Cressida stared at her. ‘Whatever’s the matter?’
‘Nothing!’ shouted Leonora. ‘I’m going home, and if Marcia wants to know why, tell her I’ve got depression brought on by boredom.’ Grabbing her things she marched out into the street, leaving Cressida totally alone and thoroughly confused.
Luckily Marcia didn’t show herself at all until 5.30 and then she seemed to assume that Leonora had just left. ‘I’m sorry Polly still isn’t well,’ she said to Cressida. ‘Are you managing all right?’
‘Yes, luckily it wasn’t too busy today so I think we caught up.’
Marcia smiled. ‘That’s good. You know, Cressida, you’re probably the best assistant we’ve had here. You get so much done but never seem to be in the way. In fact, I often forget you’re here at all. With your knack of blending into the background you’d make a good spy!’ She laughed.
‘I don’t think I would,’ retorted Cressida. ‘I’m not devious enough.’
‘Doing anything interesting this evening?’ enquired Marcia, watching Cressida tidy her desk ready for the next morning.
Cressida remembered that she was meeting Tom, and her stomach clenched with nerves. If they were seen it could mean the end of everything, just at a really vital point in the operation. ‘No,’ she said nonchalantly. ‘I think I’ll have an early night. I’m still tired from the party Rick and I went to on Saturday.’
‘I can imagine!’ said Marcia with a knowing look in her eye.
As soon as Cressida had left the gallery, Marcia picked up the telephone. She didn’t know why, but she was uneasy about Cressida and the sooner Guy knew this the better. They couldn’t afford to have anyone working for them they didn’t trust, and it seemed to her that Cressida was simply too perfect.
Unaware of her employer’s doubts, Cressida hurried home, had a quick bath and then changed into a light blue belted jersey top which she wore over clinging navy leggings. She was so used to having to look good all the time now that without thinking she re-applied her make-up carefully and then sprayed herself liberally with Esteé Lauder’s Cinnibar.
She didn’t realise how much difference these small changes had made until she saw Tom’s face when she arrived at the Indian restaurant. He leapt to his feet with far more than his usual enthusiasm and hurried to pull out her chair for her.
‘You look great!’ he said admiringly.
‘Thanks, but –’ She stopped. It would hardly be tactful to tell him that she hadn’t made that much effort for him.
They both ordered and Tom told Cressida about his work until the food arrived. Then, once they were eating, he started pressing her for information about the gallery. ‘Are you getting anywhere?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I think I am. I’m quite sure Williams is right. There’s something going on there, some kind of fraud, but I haven’t yet managed to get close enough to a picture that’s being cleaned to find out what,’ she said quietly.
Tom’s face darkened. ‘You’ve got close enough to that artist chap though, haven’t you?’
‘I’m going out with Rick Marks, yes,’ replied Cressida carefully. ‘It’s my best chance of being accepted by Guy and Marcia, and until that happens I won’t make any more progress.’
‘What’s he like in bed?’ asked Tom sharply.
Cressida looked down at her plate. ‘Tom, I really don’t think we should be discussing this. We’re not even meant to meet, it’s thoroughly unprofessional.’
‘Is it part of your profession that you sleep around with artists?’ asked Tom, his voice rising.
‘Keep your voice down,’ muttered Cressida. ‘I’m not sleeping around with numerous artists. I’m having an affair with one.’
‘And that’s supposed to make me feel better?’
‘You’re not supposed to know,’ Cressida pointed out. ‘This meeting wasn’t my idea, it was yours. This is work, Tom. I’m not in it for pleasure. We’ve been through this before.’
‘So you don’t get anything out of it? You never have an orgasm with him, is that right?’
Cressida wanted to get up and walk out of the restaurant. She was sure that people at the nearby tables could hear what he was saying and the entire situation was rapidly running out of control. ‘If you don’t stop this, Tom, I’m going,’ she said quietly.
‘And what about Guy Cronje?’ persisted Tom. ‘Are you going to sleep with him too if it means you can get to see whatever there is to see?’
Cressida glanced at him and to her horror saw two familiar faces at the back of the restaurant. Their heads were close together but there was no mistaking the fact that Guy and Marcia were sitting in the same restaurant and must have seen her and Tom.
‘Shut up, Tom,’ she said sharply. ‘We’ve been seen.’ Tom started to turn his head. ‘Don’t look round,’ she snapped, ‘that will only make it worse. Just call for the bill, settle up and leave. I’m going now. I’ll make it look as though we’ve had an argument.’
‘That won’t be difficult,’ said Tom. ‘We have. I want you off this case if our relationship is going to survive.’
‘At this moment,’ said Cressida as she got to her feet, ‘I’m not sure that I care if it doesn’t. I find your behaviour outrageous and insulting.’ Then, with much waving of arms and fumbling with her bag, she flounced out of the restaurant hoping that her exit had been noted by the watching pair at the back of the room.
It had. Guy glanced at Marcia and raised his eyebrows. ‘Well?’
‘Well what?’
‘Well, why are we here? Cressida’s entitled to have more than one boyfriend at a time, isn’t she? You’ve done it often enough.’
‘But don’t you recognise the man?’ asked Marcia.
Guy studied Tom as he paid the bill. Tom’s face was white and his expression shocked. ‘No, I can’t say as I do, but she’s clearly given him a bad time! Who is he?’
‘I don’t know his name but he’s a police officer. I remember him coming in to the gallery when we’d just bought it. He wanted to tell me all about security systems – rather amusing in the circumstances!’
‘A policeman? That, I admit, is slightly more intriguing, but I suppose that policemen do have girlfriends.’
‘I don’t trust Cressida Farleigh,’ said Marcia. ‘She’s too good to be true.’
‘Too attractive for your liking is nearer the mark,’ said Guy casually.
‘I caught her going through the files, remember?’ Marcia pointed out.
‘Yes, but she had a genuine reason. She’d had a customer call with a painting that needed cleaning; he did come back, and we’ve done the job.’
Marcia exhaled a long, slow breath. ‘I’m sure there’s something wrong, Guy. Jealousy doesn’t explain the feeling I’ve got about her.’
‘We’ll talk to her about this after the party,’ said Guy. ‘She didn’t see us, did she? If she’s honest about the man she was with then that’s an end to it.’
The following morning Cressida went to work at the gallery feeling very tense. She wondered how long it would be before either Marcia or Guy summoned her to the office and asked her about her dinner date, but as time went by and nothing happened she started to think that perhaps she and Tom had got away with it after all.
Common sense told her that neither of her employers would know Tom was a policeman, and they probably weren’t the least bit interested if she was two-timing Rick. There was also the faint hope that Marcia would remember having seen Tom in the gallery and Cressida’s description of him as an obsessed customer.
Marcia was very agreeable all morning, so much so that Cressida wondered if it was a trap, but deciding this was total paranoia she attempted to relax and by the afternoon was feeling far more comfortable again.
At two o’clock Rick called in, and she was very relieved to see the familiar smile on his face as he approached her. ‘I’d like to make love to you right here, on the desk,’ he whispered, bending his head close to hers.
Cressida grinned. ‘Why don’t you then?’ she suggested.
‘I wouldn’t want to shock Leonora. Sir Peter would never forgive me.’
Cressida felt the familiar buzz of anticipation when undercover work took an unexpected upturn. ‘I didn’t know you knew Sir Peter,’ she said casually.
Rick hesitated. ‘Well, I don’t know him in the same way as Guy knows him; I mean, I’m not a personal friend, but I’ve met him at showings and the occasional dinner party.’
‘Does he collect your work?’ asked Cressida.
Rick laughed. ‘No, I’m not at all his style; he’s far more conventional, except when it comes to choosing wives. Have you met the third Lady Thornton? She’s a knockout.’
‘I haven’t,’ admitted Cressida. ‘All I know about her is that Leonora doesn’t like her.’
‘No women like her!’ laughed Rick. ‘She’s competition with a capital C. Now, before I go and speak to Guy, are you free tomorrow night? Guy and Marcia are holding a party at Marcia’s place in Chelsea and we’re invited.’
‘What kind of a party?’ asked Cressida.
Rick sighed. ‘You always have to dress well for Marcia’s parties so casual gear’s out, but it won’t be a big affair. Usually there are about a dozen guests. We have a meal and then mingle and chat.’
‘Are the guests mostly artists?’
Rick shook his head. ‘No, usually they’re collectors. I’m about the only artist that Guy mixes with socially; I’m his token bohemian!’
‘Sounds nice,’ agreed Cressida.
‘Good, I’ll pick you up just before eight tomorrow evening.
You won’t recognise me – I’ll be in a dinner jacket.’
‘In that case I certainly won’t!’ laughed Cressida.
All the time Rick was in with Guy, Cressida was nervous in case he was being told about her outing the previous evening, but when Rick finally left he gave her a quick wink and she knew that she was safe. Later Polly came in for a couple of hours and Cressida was so pleased to see her back and have someone to talk to again that the rest of the afternoon flew by.
On the Wednesday Guy wasn’t in the gallery and Marcia kept popping in and out, which meant that Cressida and Leonora were kept busy. She took another telephone call from Lady Alice Summers, who sounded very upset that Guy was out and asked for the number of his mobile phone. Cressida didn’t have it, and was startled at the language that was unleashed by the widow when she realised she wouldn’t be able to contact him.
Cressida assumed that problems about the fake paintings were increasing and she began to wonder if it was true that Lady Alice herself was involved. With any luck, she thought to herself, she might see the widow at the party that evening.
She dressed carefully for the occasion, settling on a fitted jacket made of cream lace on a coffee background worn over a long coffee-coloured georgette skirt with a fluted hemline. The jacket had short sleeves, a cutaway neckline and fastened with large pearl buttons. Worn with beige and cream strappy sandals, a faux seed pearl bracelet and large pearl earrings, it was very flattering and Cressida felt confident that she would be as well dressed as any woman there. Sue had picked the outfit and as Cressida stood waiting for Rick she knew that once again she had made a good choice.
Rick had been right. It was quite a shock to see him in evening dress and when they kissed Cressida straightened his bow tie. ‘Didn’t you look in the mirror before you left?’ she asked teasingly.
‘It took me so long to tie the thing I didn’t dare put it straight in case it fell apart on me,’ confessed Rick. He looked at Cressida and sighed. ‘You’re far too ravishing to take out. Let’s go upstairs instead.’
Cressida picked up her bag and shook her head. Although her treacherous body wouldn’t have minded, she knew that this was a dinner party she couldn’t afford to miss unless she wanted to lose her job in the police force. ‘Waiting will make it all the better,’ she assured Rick.
‘I wasn’t serious,’ said Rick as they drove towards Chelsea. ‘Guy would kill me if we didn’t turn up.’
‘You’re the guest of honour, are you?’ asked Cressida.
‘Hardly, but he was very anxious that you were there.’
A warning bell sounded in Cressida’s head. ‘Why’s that, do you think?’ she asked.
‘No idea,’ said Rick, pulling into a tiny side street tucked away from the main road and parking outside a mid-Georgian house whose front wall was entirely covered by wisteria. ‘The house will surprise you; it doesn’t look much from the outside but Marcia’s had it extended and it’s pretty spacious inside.’
‘How many floors?’ asked Cressida, glancing up at a dormer window in the roof.
‘Four, I think, including the basement.’
‘You’ve been down in the basement?’ asked Cressida, remembering his drawings.
Rick gripped her tightly by the elbow. ‘Cressida, I’d rather not talk about Guy, Marcia or anything I might or might not have done here with them, OK?’
Cressida was surprised by his reaction. ‘Of course. I didn’t mean to pry, I was only interested.’
‘You’re special to me,’ continued Rick. ‘We’ve got something different; I feel closer to you than I’ve ever felt to anyone before and I don’t want the past to spoil it.’
Startled by his intensity, Cressida could only nod, but his words had created a sense of guilt in her. She liked Rick and loved the sex they had, but she knew that she didn’t feel the same about him as he did about her. Once again she wished that she didn’t have to use him, especially if he was an innocent part of the conspiracy.
‘You’re the last to arrive, as usual,’ said Marcia, opening the front door. Her blonde hair was loose on her shoulders and she was wearing a pink and grey beaded dress modelled on the style of the flappers. Privately, Cressida thought it was a mistake with a bust as large as Marcia’s, but the effect was certainly eye-catching.
‘Sorry,’ said Rick with his most charming smile. ‘You know what I’m like about time.’
‘And you know what Guy’s like,’ said Marcia pointedly. ‘He’s been glancing at his watch for the past half hour. Come on, we’ll go straight through to the dining room. If we don’t eat quickly it will spoil.’
‘Not the most relaxing of hostesses,’ murmured Cressida.
‘She’s on edge because of Guy,’ whispered Rick. ‘He gets very uptight on evenings like these.’
Cressida knew that this was true the moment she saw Guy. His face had the tight, shuttered look that she’d come to recognise as signifying tension, and when he looked across the dining room at Rick his eyes were cold. ‘Couldn’t you tear yourself away from your latest work of art?’ he enquired silkily, his eyes then moving slowly over Cressida so that it was unclear whether he meant Rick’s drawing or Cressida herself.
‘Sorry, Guy, the traffic was dreadful,’ explained Rick, as an awkward silence fell on the room.
‘Never mind, they’re here now,’ said Marcia brightly. ‘Cressida, you’re sitting in between Sir Peter Thornton and Marcus Lloyd. Rick, you’re here, between Lady Bradley and Fliss.’
With a quick glance at Cressida, Rick took his place at the highly polished light oak table. He’d hoped to be sitting next to Cressida, but Fliss – the constant companion of Marcus Lloyd, hairdresser to the stars – was an acceptable alternative. Young, flirtatious and full of scandalous gossip, she had often enlivened a dull evening for him.
As the meal progressed, Cressida – with the help of Sir Peter – gradually got to know the names of the other guests. She was intrigued to note that the considerable age difference between Sir Peter and his exotic wife was reflected in another of the couples there. Lord George Bradley was in his mid-sixties but his wife Emily was in her early thirties.
She was disappointed that there was no sign of Lady Alice Summers, and somewhat surprised to realise that there was a spare man, Sir Nicholas Rodgers, who looked to be about 60 and was, according to Marcus Lloyd, newly divorced and highly eligible. ‘Tonight must be rather a disappointment to him,’ said Cressida. ‘I can’t see any eligible single women.’
‘Apart from you,’ said Marcus, whose hair was if anything even more carefully styled than Fliss’s.
‘I’m not eligible,’ retorted Cressida. ‘I’m here with Rick.’
‘Are you two an item?’ enquired Marcus.
‘I suppose so, yes.’
He smiled a strange, secretive smile. ‘Then no doubt you know the delights that await us later on. I must say, he’s taken up with a rather different sort of companion. The last time we were at one of these dinners together he brought along an extraordinarily tall and voluptuous redhead. She was the entertainment that evening though. You’re not, are you?’
Cressida frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Marcus opened his mouth to speak but Sir Peter interrupted from her right side. ‘Guy told us you’ve recently started work at the gallery, which presumably means you’re the young lady who has to work with my daughter all day?’
Cressida had no option but to respond to him, and Marcus Lloyd turned to Rose Thornton who, dressed in a royal blue crepe evening dress with side splits and a low neckline, had the attention of every man in the room without making any effort at all.
After coffee and chocolate mints, all the guests moved into the living room which was on the first floor. There they drank liqueurs and chatted, and Cressida noticed a change in the atmosphere. Before it had all seemed very conventional and civilised but now there was an undercurrent of excitement, a tension in the air. And Guy’s mood had changed during the meal, leaving him as relaxed as it was possible for him to be.
Cressida had watched him a lot during the meal. What intrigued her about him was the fact that although he seemed to take part in the general conversation, he actually spent a lot of time watching his guests, rather like an anthropologist watches specimens. They clearly fascinated him, but his fascination was tinged with more than a hint of contempt; a contempt which was quickly disguised whenever he was aware that he too was being watched.
As soon as her brandy glass was empty Cressida felt Rick’s hand on her arm. ‘We’re all going down now,’ he said quietly.
‘Down where?’ asked Cressida.
Guy moved to the other side of her and she felt him slip an arm round her waist. ‘Marcia’s very proud of her renovated basement. She likes her guests to go and admire it. Rather boring if you’re not interested in such things but I find it’s best to humour her. You might find it more interesting than you expect,’ he added.
‘The whole house has been renovated, hasn’t it?’ asked Cressida as the guests moved towards the door.
‘Yes, at considerable cost, but Marcia does have impeccable taste.’
‘It’s a pity she can’t paint, then you wouldn’t need to pay so many artists,’ laughed Cressida.
Guy shook his head. ‘That wouldn’t do at all. Marcia and I won’t always be together, but I’ll always need artists. I think it’s far better not to mix business and pleasure.’
‘You are partners in the gallery,’ pointed out Cressida.
‘True, but I own other galleries elsewhere that Marcia isn’t involved with. I’m not a man to keep all my eggs in one basket.’
No, thought Cressida, I’m sure you’re not, and she remembered the massive Interpol investigation that had so far failed to trap him. He looked at her steadily for a few seconds and then walked away, leaving Rick to escort her down the two flights of stairs to the basement.
‘Unnerving, isn’t he?’ remarked Rick. ‘I never know where I am with him.’
‘I suspect that’s what he enjoys,’ said Cressida. ‘He likes knowing that people are uneasy in his presence. It gives him some kind of ego boost.’
‘It also attracts the women,’ said Rick. ‘Your predecessor nearly killed herself trying to get him to notice her, but she wasn’t his type.’
Poor Sue, thought Cressida. The trouble was, it seemed she herself might be Guy’s type, but she wasn’t certain how well she’d handle things if he actually made a move on her. She was attracted, but at the same time afraid.
At the bottom of the stairs everyone waited for Marcia to open the basement door. She turned and gave her guests a dazzling smile. ‘Here you are. I hope you enjoy the evening’s entertainment. It’s really been designed with Rick in mind, because he claims he’s lacking in inspiration!’
‘Or was, until he met you,’ Guy whispered in Cressida’s ear. She ignored him, linked hands with Rick, and moved into the basement.
She was expecting a dark room, but instead it was so bright that she almost took a step back as the light hit her. All the walls, originally old red bricks, had been plastered and then painted a shining white with a hint of blue. Large spotlights were dotted around the walls, which were stark except for at the far end of the room, where strange African fertility symbols had been hung, symbols that were menacing in their rich sexuality. It was a large room but had been fully carpeted, unlike the rest of the house where Marcia had chosen rich rugs to complement the beautiful wooden flooring.
Because Cressida and Rick were the last guests to enter the room, it took Cressida a few moments to work out why the other guests were all gathering on the opposite side of the room. However, when the group parted to make way for Guy, she had her first glimpse of what she swiftly understood to be the evening’s entertainment that Marcus Lloyd had spoken to her about earlier.
The mid-section of the opposite wall had been draped with black and white silk material that shimmered beneath the beam from a spotlight. Standing against the backdrop, her fine-boned body twisted into a strange shape by the judicious use of metal fastenings fixed through the silk into the wall, was a tall blonde with grey eyes and very fair hair, slicked back off her face revealing high cheekbones and a generous mouth.
The woman, who didn’t look to be much more than 22 or 23 to Cressida, was wearing a strange black silk dress. It fell to her ankles, but at the right-hand side of her body, which was totally exposed to the watching guests, the dress was slit to beneath her bust, revealing every inch of silky flesh from ankle to hip.
The material had fallen in such a way that the area between her legs was covered, although it was clear that the slightest movement would mean that she was to be totally exposed. The dress was backless with a deep plunging neckline that barely covered the lower half of her breasts, and had a cross-over back.
Because her left arm and leg were fastened to the wall with the left leg drawn up, her left thigh was also on display, and while the left arm was fastened below her waist her right wrist had been handcuffed above shoulder height. Round her neck there was a thin loose-fitting strip of leather that prevented her from moving her head more than a few inches.
Next to Cressida, Rick drew in a deep breath and when she looked at him she saw that he was staring at the young woman with a look of desperate hunger. ‘Is she one of your models?’ whispered Cressida.
Rick shook his head. ‘No,’ he whispered back. ‘I’ve never used her, but I know who she is. She’s –’
At that moment Guy walked up to the fastened woman and ran his hand with soft deliberation along the sensitive skin beneath her tightly upheld right arm. Cressida could feel the caress herself, felt her skin tense and tingle as his fingers moved so slowly and intimately over the other woman’s flesh. Her belly felt swollen and hot.
‘I’m sure most of you here tonight remember Lady Alice Summers,’ he said politely. ‘Poor Alice was telling me the other day that all of her friends have deserted her since Michael died. I knew this wasn’t true and thought that it would be a nice idea to throw a little party for her so that you can all show her she isn’t forgotten.’
Cressida couldn’t believe that this was the woman whose cut-glass vowels had sworn so succinctly down the phone at her earlier in the day. She wondered what it must be like to stand there on display for people who’d known her as the wife of an important public figure and listen to Guy’s words. The humiliation must be unbearable, but there was a terrible fascination about it that was arousing her with frightening speed.
‘Nicholas,’ continued Guy, looking at the recently divorced man with a thin smile on his face. ‘I know you were always close to Lord Michael and his wife. Perhaps you’d care to come forward and move her dress a little to one side. I think that after ignoring her for so long most of you would like to see more of her now that you’re here.’
Sir Nicholas Rodgers didn’t need inviting twice. He hurried up to the fastened figure and caught hold of the edge of the flowing dress with both hands, drawing it up and away from her body then tucking it tightly beneath her trapped left knee so that she remained exposed to their view.
Cressida had expected Lady Alice to be naked beneath the dress, but she was wearing a black high-cut thong with three strips of leather riding over her hip bones on either side of her body. The thong was tight, the crotch pressing tightly against her vulva, and as Sir Nicholas moved away he couldn’t resist lightly brushing his hand against the area between her thighs.
Cressida watched as Lady Alice’s face tightened and she averted her face as far as she could from the watching crowd, but she couldn’t disguise the tell-tale flush of pink that stained her pale, English-rose cheeks.
‘Because poor Alice has been so neglected she’s very anxious to make up for lost time,’ continued Guy, his eyes scanning the watching guests whose sexual arousal was obvious from the way they were either touching their partners or pressing towards the imprisoned Lady Alice.
Cressida had never been in such an erotically charged atmosphere and she was both ashamed and excited by her own desire. She found that like everyone else in the room she couldn’t tear her gaze away from Lady Alice, but when Guy stopped speaking she looked at him and for the first time saw his eyes burning with a feverish excitement that made her tremble.
‘I think it would only be polite if we allowed one of the ladies to start the proceedings,’ continued Guy. ‘Cressida, as this is your first visit here perhaps you’d like to come and meet Lady Alice? I’m sure a new friend is almost more welcome than an old one since she feels that her old friends have let her down. What do you say, Alice? Would you like to meet Cressida Farleigh, Rick Marks’s new girlfriend?’
Alice didn’t reply, but it was clear Guy hadn’t expected her to. Instead he looked steadily at Cressida, his eyes almost hypnotic in their power to draw her towards the front of the group. ‘Cressida, please start the game for everyone.’
Rick released Cressida’s hand and gave her a gentle push in the middle of her back. ‘Better do as he asks,’ he murmured.
In truth, Cressida didn’t need Rick’s encouragement – she was already moving towards Guy and the woman chained so provocatively to the wall behind him.
‘What do I do?’ she asked softly, hardly daring to look at either Guy or Alice but knowing that she must play her part if she was to keep Guy Cronje’s confidence.
He smiled, and for once there was no sarcasm in the smile. ‘Don’t look so anxious, Cressida, you can do anything you like. There are no rules here, providing the pleasure is mutual. Just introduce yourself with a soft touch; the kind of touch you’d like to receive from someone who really cared about you.’
Cressida realised that she had no idea what to do. She’d never touched another woman in a sexual way before, and tried to imagine what sort of touch she’d like to receive if this were happening to her. She looked to the fastened woman for guidance but Lady Alice’s head was turned to the side and it was clear there would be no help from her.
Once she was standing close to Alice, Cressida found that it was the black leather thong covering Alice’s vulva that most excited her. The material was tight over the lightly oiled body and almost of its own volition Cressida’s hand moved towards the three strips that covered the right hip bone. She ran one fingernail down across the straps and then back up again, leaving a tiny mark on the white skin, and she saw the imprisoned woman’s flat abdominal muscles ripple gently as her belly drew in.
Cressida was fascinated by the instant reaction and her hand moved down over the curve of the hip and the outer thigh until she could reach between the long colt-like legs and let her fingers stray over the tight leather crotch. Again the muscles of the abdomen moved and she heard Alice’s breathing quicken.
Without realising it, Cressida had forgotten her surroundings; forgotten that there was a crowd of people watching her as she greeted the young blonde in this bizarre fashion. All she was aware of was a sense of power and a driving need for some kind of sexual satisfaction, either her own or for the woman she was touching.
Watching Cressida, Guy’s pulse quickened with excitement. He had quite expected her to refuse to touch Alice, or at the very least make a half-hearted attempt at some mundane gesture. Instead, he could tell by the look of intense longing on her face that she was lost to everything but the eroticism of the moment, and he knew then that he had to have her.
He’d guessed that she must be more sensual than her appearance suggested, especially once Rick became besotted, but tonight she was displaying signs that she was more complex than even he had guessed, and at that moment he mentally dismissed Rick from the scene. Cressida must be his, and before too long.
‘That’s enough for now,’ he said quietly. ‘The others want to say hello as well.’
Brought back to reality, Cressida was overcome with embarrassment and she quickly stepped away from the leggy blonde, moving to Rick’s side and trying to hide herself from the other guests. Rick smiled at her. ‘You looked as though you enjoyed that.’
‘Yes,’ murmured Cressida, who didn’t want to analyse her feelings.
‘I can’t wait until we can leave,’ he muttered, but Cressida hardly heard him. She was watching Guy as he moved closer to Alice and slid a hand between her thighs, slowly massaging the taut muscles that were becoming uncomfortable as she remained fastened to the brackets in the wall.
‘There, a new friend for you, Alice,’ he whispered. Alice felt his hand press upwards against her vulva and beneath the thong her flesh started to swell and her outer sex lips opened slowly, allowing the thong to press directly against her hard, erect clitoris.
Marcus Lloyd was the next person to approach Alice, and after running his fingers through her hair sucked and licked the tops of Alice’s rapidly engorging breasts. ‘He used to be her hairdresser,’ whispered Rick. ‘I think he stopped taking her calls after her husband died. There’s been some kind of scandal over the estate and as she wasn’t ever one of the set her husband belonged to she’s been deserted very fast. That’s the way these people treat you,’ he added.
Cressida noticed that Alice’s heavy lidded eyes watched Marcus while he worked, and when he reached inside her dress and pinched each of her nipples in turn a small tremor ran right through the blonde’s body as she had her first climax of the evening.
Cressida wished that she could come as well. It was unbearably arousing to watch the semi-clad haughty blonde being pleasured without any control over the situation, and if there hadn’t been so many people in the basement with them she’d have leapt on Rick there and then, although the person she was watching the most closely was Guy Cronje, the man orchestrating Lady Alice’s pleasure.
It was Marcia’s turn next and she took a hairbrush from her handbag and moved it in circular motions all over Alice’s exposed lower torso, although she avoided the area between her thighs. To Cressida’s surprise this soon had Alice moaning aloud, her head twisting from side to side as much as the neck restraint would allow, and all the men pressed closer as they watched Alice gasping helplessly before she was shaken by a far stronger orgasm than her first.
Marcia stepped back and Cressida saw how Alice’s skin was glowing red where the brush had touched her. When Sir Peter approached Alice, he rubbed what Cressida assumed to be a cooling gel over the same area, cooling and yet re-stimulating it at the same time. Rose moved to her husband’s side and as Alice suddenly began to cry out for Sir Peter to stop, Rose crouched down and nipped sharply at the tender flesh on the inside of the blonde’s right thigh.
With a scream of mingled despair and ecstasy Lady Alice Summers climaxed again, and this time her entire body was shaken and Cressida watched as all the muscles contracted beneath the surface of the pale skin. She tried to imagine what it must be like to be so tightly bound at such a time and found that the very idea was making her breathless with suppressed desire.
To her surprise no one suggested that Rick should approach Alice. Instead, the final part of the entertainment was left to Sir Nicholas Rodgers and Guy himself. Guy waited until Alice’s body was still again and then he crouched down and very lightly circled her right ankle with his left hand, allowing his fingers to stray along the tense calf muscle and also down beneath the high arch of her narrow foot.
Cressida watched his face, which was in profile, and her own legs trembled simultaneously with Lady Alice’s leg as she too felt the cruelly tender caress of the slim, knowing fingers. As his hands moved higher, massaging the aching muscles of Alice’s right leg, Cressida shifted restlessly and felt herself growing damp between her thighs.
The atmosphere in the room was electric. Marcus Lloyd and his partner Fliss were no longer watching Lady Alice Summers – they were already wrapped in each other’s arms and Marcus had his hands cupped tightly round Fliss’s pert buttocks as he pulled her lower body against his erection.
Cressida moved even closer to Rick and waited for him to he put an arm round her, but he didn’t. All his attention was on the woman on the opposite side of the room, and Cressida wondered if he was converting the scene into a drawing or simply mesmerised by the way her body had reacted to the variety of caresses it had received.
When Guy finally started to roll the black leather thong down Alice’s legs, the guests all held their breath and for a moment there was total silence. Even Marcus noticed the change and lifted his head to see what was happening.
Because of the way the blonde woman was fastened to the wall, the garment couldn’t be removed. Instead it was left just above her knees, at an angle that allowed everyone to view her light brown pubic curls and her vulva, swollen now by the stimulation she’d already received. ‘Over to you, Nicholas,’ said Guy with a tight smile. Sir Nicholas Rodgers quickly knelt and began to nuzzle between the blonde’s separated thighs.
Cressida moved to the side of the room so that she could see what he was doing. His hands were holding Lady Alice’s sex lips apart while his tongue was busily moving up and down her inner channel.
At first Alice ignored the sensations. Until this moment she’d managed to detach herself from everything that had gone on, and even her orgasms had been private because she’d closed her eyes and blotted out her so-called friends, assembled by Guy as a punishment for the second visit from her lawyers. It was a visit that Alice had been unable to stop.
Now though, as Sir Nicholas’s tongue circled the entrance to her aching vagina and then flicked inside, she found that she was unable to forget her audience any longer.
She grew more and more excited as his tongue touched every side of her vaginal walls, and when it pressed against her G spot she moaned with pleasure and felt her breasts start to ache with rising desire.
He knew how to use his tongue to great effect, and within minutes she was writhing within the restrictions of the cuffs, her muscles sore and aching but her whole body on fire with what she knew was nothing more than pure lust. A lust that needed slaking, however great the humiliation.
She closed her eyes and tried to twist her hips so that he touched her exactly where she wanted, but immediately she felt Guy’s cool, purposeful hands on her hips and a cushion being pushed between her lower body and the silk hanging of the wall so that she was even more exposed to view. And still Guy’s hands kept her motionless, enabling Sir Nicholas to work at his own speed and control her reactions as he wished.
Time and time again Alice’s body started to peak. The tightness would suffuse her pelvic area, her pulse would quicken and the blood drum in her ears, but just as she started to topple over the edge, Sir Nicholas would fail to supply that final, vital amount of pressure to enable her total release.
Cressida, watching with hot cheeks and dry mouth, realised what was happening from the way Alice was moaning and trying to move. Her own level of arousal was incredibly high now, and she understood only too well the blonde’s need for satisfaction, but it seemed that Sir Nicholas, without intending to, was preventing the blissful satisfaction Lady Alice craved.
All at once, with an ear-shattering scream of frustration, Alice took matters into her own hands. Ignoring the pain in her arm and leg muscles and Guy’s restraining hands, she pushed her body down as hard as she could so that the snake-like flickering of Sir Nicholas’s tongue became fiercer and more rapier-like, but still it wasn’t quite enough and to her horror Alice felt tears of frustration forming behind her closed eyelids.
Guy saw them and decided enough was enough. If Sir Nicholas Rodgers couldn’t satisfy the frantic young widow then he’d have to make way for someone who could, and so Guy tapped him on the shoulder and indicated that he was to move away.
Alice felt the tongue slowly withdraw and cried out again, but within seconds Guy had taken his place. Opening her up with one hand, he slid his erection inside her while with other hand he slowly massaged the skin at the top opening of her sex lips so that her aching clitoris was at last stimulated. Immediately Alice’s body spasmed furiously, arching away from the wall as a climax tore through her.
It lasted several seconds and Cressida watched in silence, wishing that she was the one enjoying the even, measured thrusts of Guy’s penis and the sensation of his hand between her thighs. As Lady Alice finally slumped limply against her bonds, Guy withdrew and walked away from her, leaving Sir Nicholas to take her down.
The rest of the guests, knowing that the evening’s entertainment was over, were quick to disperse. They collected their coats and bags, said goodnight and vanished into the darkness, all of them hurrying home, consumed by sexual desires that had been activated by the scene they’d witnessed.
As Rick handed Cressida her bag, she realised they were the last to go and opened her mouth to thank Marcia for the evening. Before she could speak, Guy flung himself down into an easy chair.
‘I’d rather you didn’t go yet, Cressida. Marcia and I want to speak to you about the man we saw you with on Monday night.’