Constance & Flynn (2) There was a scuffling sound and the noises of clothing rubbing. Probably them sharing a hug and a tender kiss. Constance closed her eyes in rage and shame. How could she! Father loved her and she abandoned him after half a year to run off with Flynn’s father of all people. He didn’t even know her, or her mother for that matter! Mother had a passion for certain things he could never understand. She raged on silently in her head. Where her Father was sensitive, understanding and yielding, Arnold would be hard, firm and demanding. She crawled back to bed, her heart suddenly hurting more than her body. Flynn came into the room whistling a crude ditty. Constance shot up like a bullet. “What on earth do you think your doing, you inconsiderate clod. How about my illness, my lapse in health? I need all the rest I can get.” If he felt anything at all then his facial expression didn’t show it. He sat down at the foot of her mother’s bed and kept whistling. She pulled the pillow over her head to shut out the noise. Constance murmured loudly, “You are taking great pleasure in my discomfort and I think you are a miserable unfeeling beast.” “Although I do find your discomfort slightly amusing I feel musical. It might help if you sing along,” Flynn said brightly. “I sing proper church songs like all Christian girls, especially the good ones.” “You’re a fanatic, you quite scare me if you want to know the truth of things.” “Heathen.” “Wench.” “Devil.” “Spinster.” “I am not! I’m quite in season.” “No proposals, eh?” “”I hate you,” “Likewise.” Constance found she was enjoying his good-natured baiting. Flynn commented off hand,” You’re a shrew, too.” She rose to the insult, “Well you’re an ill-tempered brute.” “I know.” “I hate you.” “I grow weary with your repetitious comments. Actually I cam in here to tell you a Miss Pamala Johnson is here to see you.” “Pam!” “I’ll bring her in.” “Thank you.” She began straightening the blankets ceremoniously while Flynn fetch Miss Johnson. “It displeases me to see you in such a piteous state my dear,” Pamala said with much relish. Her eyes followed from her friend’s still body to Flynn’s leaning negligently in the doorframe. A look of pleasant surprise crossed her face as if she just saw him for the first time. Pamala smiled seductively, and said in her feigned southern accent, “Wherever have you hidden this fine specimen of manhood?” Constance rolled her eyes, “This devil demon angel has risen from hell to care for me in exchange for my soul.” “You’re not amusing.” “Flynn.” “What?” “Its name is Flynn.” “Flynn.” She savored the name on her tongue and sighed soulfully. Constance began to make gagging noises that sounded obscene in the room. Flynn merely smiled charmingly, “Miss Johnson.” She blushed a bright red as he said her name slowly. “Call me Pamala, pronounced Paw-maw-la.” “Pamala.” “Yes, delightful isn’t it? It’s much more sophisticated than these common names. Don’t you think?” “Sophistication is built into its bones,” he answered. Constance began coughing loudly but Flynn merely suggested a drink for her nasty hack. If looks could kill he would have laid dead at her feet. Luckily for him they didn’t. “Heathen.” Pamala shocked at Constance’s lack of manners said, ”Be polite he just might be our escort.” Constance’s mouth hung open and Flynn was suddenly very interested in the peeling wallpaper. Pamala wasn’t stupid and knew when to retreat. “Flynn, darling be a doll and get her that drink you spoke of earlier.” Flynn disappeared closing the door behind him. Constance sensing the worst prepared herself for the blow. “What business have you here, bosom friend?” Pamala smiled, “Of all wonderful things Mrs. Anderson is hosting a cultured soiree with a soprano singer. I hear it will be the best considering her lineage of old English Wealth. I left your invitation on the table and was on the point of acquiring you an escort. I see you’ve wasted no time in latching your claws into the scarce male society we have left in Yorkshire.” Constance face was crestfallen, “A ball?” “Soiree,” Pamala corrected. Constance waved it aside. She tried for an excuse, “What about your escort? I couldn’t go without you.” “Timothy asked me and I agreed. But he won’t be too broken if we were to switch escorts so to speak.” “Don’t you dare!.”” On this point the door flung open and in stalked Flynn. “I’ve got it!” “Got what?” They said in unison. “Connie. I’ll call you Connie.” Pamala clapped her hands in delight. “What pet name have you for me?” “Paul.” “Paul!?” she shrieked. “Fine then Paula.” She smiled and added,” And my pet name for you will be---“ “Fly,” Constance interrupted, “Although it should be Lucifer, or lout, or Satan.” “Quite rude to interrupt me but you are excused. Flynn would you be a dear and---“ “No.” “What did you say?” Pamala asked clearly startled. “I said no, I don’t want to be a dear or a doll or for that matter a darling I believe I prefer curses, to your remarks meant to flirt with me. You’re quite bad at it you know, too obvious.” Pamala’s face overcame with shock. She nearly fell over. No one had ever dared to insult her seductive speech. She nearly screamed. “Surely you do not mean that…” She trailed off. She nearly called him ‘honey’. Constance was laughing quietly at her discomfort. She fidgeted a bit before going on, “We were hoping you would… well I was hoping you would care to go to an upcoming soiree with me. I’m terribly alone and I need an escort to bring me in with style. Of course Constance, that sly one knew about it and managed to snare Timothy Wells in her seductive nets.” She tapped his hand knowingly with a fan she procured from her reticule, while she lied smoothly. He looked her over leisurely. Flynn smiled slowly, almost an odd smirk. She had rich lustrous, black hair that sat neatly on her shoulders. Her penetrating blue eyes that observed his every movement and statement with an intelligent calculation pierced his while she waited. Her gloved hands had long fingers that probably never known a day’s work in its life sat calmly in her lap. Her pink muslin skirts trailed to the tips of her white slippers ironed and tidy underneath her hips and bosom were defined nicely. Any male would find her painstakingly beautiful but for some reason her character made her unappealing to Flynn. Finally he spoke. “Although I would never miss a chance to waltz----“ “It’s a musical soiree we won’t only waltz, Flynn, we’ll listen to a soprano belt out beautiful music to our trained ears.” “Yes that’s all good, but still I must decline I fear I am busy at the time and there is no way around it all though if something did come up I would rush to your side to bring you in with style.” Pamala rose, she knew when to leave. I’ll make him chase after me, sooner or later he compare her to me and everyone knows you can’t hold a candle to this, Pamala thought, aloud she said, “I shall be going then, adieu Connie. Flynn will you be so kind as to escort me to the door?” She held out her arm to him and he laid it on his offered forearm. “But of course, never should a young lady ever do anything by herself.” As he spoke Constance was casting nasty looks at Pamala’s back. How could she be so naïve? He was mocking her with every word he said. Flynn swept Pamala out of the room. Meanwhile at the door Pamala turned to him before she went out. She knew she looked stunning in her winter gear and decided to use it to her advantage. She thrust her hand generously at Flynn’s face in an attempt at him kissing her hand. Flynn stared bewildered at the hand clouding his vision. Knowing customs he kissed her wrist and looked up at her while he did so. She flushed a bright red and pressed her other hand to her cheek. “I think you are flirting with me now Mr.---? “Retner.” She sighed, and laid her hands on his shoulders and said breathlessly, “Oh Flynn, you might not have wanted to say it in there, but you can still attend the soiree with me, and Connie would never know.” She thrust herself closer to him knowing her perfume was probably having an overwhelming effect on him. Her lips were an inch from his. Connie came out in that moment, “Just wanted to make sure she’s not murdering you or you corrupting her so I------“ She looked at them in that moment and she nearly cried. “Well, it would have been better if you did this in the privacy of a chamber instead of where the parents could walk in on you’re adulterous behavior.” Flynn pushed Pamala gently away and turned to stare at Connie. Her nonchalance didn’t fool him. She was angry. “I swear I wasn’t raping or molesting your bosom friend, I promise.” “I know she just tripped and fell into your arms didn’t she? And when you went to help her up both of you just happened to be pursing your lips at the same time. Have I got that right?” Pamala looked at Connie and felt a pang of guilt. “We weren’t doing anything. I merely tripped on a floorboard and Flynn caught me. It was nothing Constance, please don’t make a fool of yourself.” Constance sputtered. Flynn nodded in agreement with Pamala. He opened the door and waved to her. Let her groom give her a leg up all he needed was more suave moves on Paula’s part. “I swear to you nothing happened.” “Swear to me then that you were ‘helping’ her up.” “I can’t do that.” “I thought so.” “I promise you though that nothing was going to happen at all.” Constance just smiled a brittle smile and nodded. “Let me make it up to you Connie. How about us going to the soiree.” “Thought you had plans.” “They changed.” She smiled at him. Then she frowned, the dilemma that brought her to a halt before did it now. “I can’t.” “Why ever not?” She blushed a crimson red. “I don’t have a quality dress. Everything I have is homespun.” He nodded understanding, “I’ll get you one, never fear, your prince charming is here.” He said valiantly. She nearly laughed at his impression of an even deeper voice, but he meant well. She thanked him and skipped to her room. Constance sat on the edge of the bed and listened. She had been doing a lot of that lately. She shuffled over to the window pane and let her breath bead the fog as she watched Pamala’s majestic departure. At this point Belinda appeared in the doorway. She looked calmly weary. “Love, how are you feeling? Dreadfully hot in here isn’t it? No matter you just missed Mrs.. Johnson but I’m sure Pamala had the good sense to visit you. Mr. Retner has agreed to take Flynn and you to the up and coming soiree. Of course, not only you have something to attend I myself will be seeing to an adult ball, you could say. Surely a grand arrangement I hope has found favor with you. Turns out I will be able to use that dress of red silk.” Constance only nodded until she heard the last, “Red silk,” she exclaimed, “Where did you acquire a gown of such rich material?” Her mother in didn’t answer and whisked herself out of the room. Constance suddenly began laughing hysterically, “How ironic.” Then Flynn walked in, “Okay Connie?” Constance shook her head. He landed in front of her on the window sill, What’s aching now?” “My foot that’s what, you’re sitting on it.” He scooted over the smallest bit. She continued, “Don’t you have somewhere to go? And what about your dad?” “Oh Yea.” She answered back sarcastically, ”Oh Yea?” “I meant what I said.” He walked briskly to the door and stopped with his and on the knob, “Don’t worry I’ll show myself out.” “Sure. Don’t want to walk in on another Pamala incident,” she said bitterly, “Instead this time with my mother.” He shook his head and left closing the door behind him. Constance considered the possibilities of her mother letting her go to such a sophisticated soiree. Deciding there was no reason to dwell on the uncertain she peeked out into the corridor and spotted the hallway door closing. Muffled noises were coming from behind it. She pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle that would disturb the room's occupants. She sneaked into her attic loft her muscles stiff from the previous cold. She changed from her now wrinkled imitation dress to a plain pleated blue skirt and a white collared blouse. She pulled the strip of leather from her head and shook her hair from the tight ponytail. She re-laced her low ankle boots and clambered down the ladder and walked back to the dining table. On it was a small envelope sealed with a bit of melted wax. She carefully broke the seal and pulled out a scented paper She read and reread it over. Two days. She ha two days. No one could conjure a dress of quality in two days. She sank into her chair miserably.
Copyright © 2002 Julissa Gayle Raven |