Draw Me A Picture (21 page)

“I thought you’d get lost trying to kind the kitchen,” he offered. Michelle wasn’t fooled.

“I’m not that brainless,” she said, smiling. “What do you really want?”

Grinning, William reached up one hand and smoothed her hair. It felt very soft; William was grateful Michelle wasn’t the type to use a lot of hairspray; her long tresses were never stiff or untouchable. Realizing his girl wanted an answer, William decided to give her one. He leaned down, kissed her lips then pulled her along with him down the corridor.

“Oh,” Michelle said, blushing. “Well, that is a good reply.”

Whatever feelings of insecurity Michelle harbored around Margaret, they vanished during dinner; lady did her utmost to make her feel at home. The conversation was open with an easy flow; William added bits of humor here and there and a few cerebral objections. The petulant chef even joined them to eat, though he made a great show of sitting far away from Alfred. The man bristled just a little when the latter made comments about the strip steak being slightly overdone. Margaret laughed it off and spoke a few words to Jean-Claude in French.

Listening to them, Michelle wished she’d taken French lessons after all; she resolved to someday soon. It seemed to be a handy language, especially in this circle. After dinner Margaret served coffee herself, playing the hostess with ease. Michelle’s admiration for the matronly woman grew and she spurred herself to answer questions and comment when looked at.

The clock struck ten. Michelle hid a yawn in her hand. The company was good, but she normally was in bed by now.

“Well, it is getting late… I’ll just head up to bed, myself,” Margaret said, to William. “Just to let you know, Michelle, we eat breakfast at eight sharp. There is an alarm clock on your night stand, if you wish to set it.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” Michelle returned, smiling at her. The lady paused and looked at her young guest.

“You know, Michelle, when you say my name it sounds lovely,” she said, smiling back. “I’ve always disliked my name. But your accent gives it just a hint of beauty.” Michelle smiled at this; she never considered herself having an accent, but she supposed and Englishwoman would think so.

“It’s a great name,” Michelle remarked. “Like Margaret Thatcher, or Princess Margaret.”

William’s mother laughed, lightly.

“I am flattered you know they exist,” she said, smiling. “Thank you, my dear. I’ll let you turn in now. Oh, er…. if you cannot sleep or wake early, there is a large reading library four doors down from you on the right. Large, arched doors; you cannot miss them.”

“I adore looking at personal libraries,” Michelle said, feeling a little more awake. “The variety of tomes always reflects the taste of the owner.”

“Feel free to peruse it, my dear,” Margaret said, smiling at the young woman’s enthusiasm.

“Thank you for your kindness, Margaret,” Michelle said, gratefully.

“Nonsense, my dear. Sleep well. Goodnight.” The lady of the house took her cup to the sink and gracefully left the room.

Michelle stood up, feeling both tired and excited. This was such a strange situation for her to be in. Almost constantly, she expected to wake up and find this all a dream. Michelle was fairly certain it was not but still, she wondered if the fates were just sporting with her and one day she’d wake up still on her street corner, pining fruitlessly after William.

Almost immediately she felt his eyes on her face.

“I should turn in as well,” William commented, standing to go; his eyes never left Michelle. He fervently hoped he’d get a chance to make out with his pretty girlfriend a little before bed. As if sensing his plans, his valet stood up, too.

“As should I,” Alfred announced, smiling. He saw William’s chagrined look and chuckled to himself.

Michelle earned a few points with the chef by thanking him shyly for the dinner, emphasizing its delicious properties. The man beamed and captured her hand, kissing the back of it devotedly. William made a face at the man but Michelle’s surprised expression made his smile return. Blushing, Michelle got her hand back and turned to William and Alfred.

“I guess I’ll say good night to you then,” she said, biting her lip. “The trip here turned out very pleasant, I thought.” William stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking impatient. He wanted everyone to disperse and go to sleep, except Michelle of course.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, instead. “It was one of the better car trips I’ve taken up here, for certain.” His eyes held a look Michelle liked very much, somewhere in between gratitude and desire.

“I second that,” Alfred said, ambling towards the door. “Far more riveting company than usual.” Hearing this, William snorted.

“I was going to say the same thing, old boy,” he said, grinning. “At least you didn’t bring out a crossword puzzle this time, causing us meaningless agony over pop-culture terms.” Michelle giggled softly as she followed them out of the kitchen. As she ascended the stairs, she glanced back at William, wanting to give him a proper goodnight kiss but not daring to in front of everyone. Some things she still considered very private.

An hour later, Michelle lay on the ‘pink room’ bed, looking up at the canopy; despite the comfortable surroundings sleep eluded her. Her clothes were already hung in the armoire. She already succumbed to the lure of the shower; the hot water had felt divine, the soap smelled of sandy beaches, the hot water relaxing... but there was just something about being in a strange place that Michelle was having a bit of trouble settling into; she missed William. The idea of the library nearby appealed. Maybe just a look...

“William’s probably asleep by now,” she thought, sitting up. She hopped out of bed, restlessness driving her actions. A mirror on the back of the bedroom door reflected Michelle’s outfit: pajamas, and not even proper pajamas at that but cream-colored yoga pants and her Stanford camisole. Slipping on her robe, Michelle glanced at the clock. 11:05; surely everyone would be asleep. The house had been silent for some time.

Opening the door, Michelle looked up and down the dim hallway; neither a sound nor sign of anyone presented itself. Walking barefoot towards the library, Michelle felt slightly envious of their ability to drop off into the arms of sleep so easily. Four doors down, she found an ornate set of doors, taller than the others; they formed two halves of an arch just as Margaret had described. The doors opened silently on thick hinges. As she entered the room Michelle stopped, drawing in a sharp breath. Stretched out on a cozy-looking sofa lay William, asleep. An open book lay on his chest. Michelle tarried by the door, not willing to wake him, but wanting a goodnight kiss nonetheless. Stepping back, she reluctantly began closing the door behind her.

“Don’t go, Michelle,” came the sound of William’s voice. Michelle smiled; she opened the door again but stayed on the threshold.

“You looked so peaceful… I didn’t want to disturb you,” she explained. William closed the book and stood up. Michelle gripped the door handle, suddenly feeling silly in her pajamas and bare feet.

“You’d never disturb me, love,” William said, smiling slowly. He was favoring her with one of his intense gazes. Michelle stepped back a little.

“I should... go,” she said, giving a weak smile. “To.. uh.. sleep.” William grinned, his eyes alight. In two steps, he reached her side and pulled her into the room with him; reaching over Michelle’s shoulder, he shut the door.

“You came here because you couldn’t sleep,” he said, his tone low. “I’ve been reading here only in the hope that you’d show.” Standing close to Michelle, he wrapped his arms around her. Looking down into her eyes, William was moved by the uncertainty he saw there. “I’m not going to harm you, Michelle,” he
said. Michelle smiled a little.
 

“I know. Just... no tickling, OK?” she replied, nervously. William laughed.

“It’s that bad, eh?” he asked, amused. Michelle nodded, looking sheepish. “Well, I make no promises,” he said, suddenly releasing her. “Besides, you deserve a good tickling...” Michelle’s eyes grew wide at William’s tone.

“You wouldn’t dare....” she countered, backing away from him. William grinned.  

Walking down the hallway some moments later with a glass of milk, Alfred heard laughter and shrieking coming from the library. Opening one of the doors, he peered in and then laughed at the sight before him. Michelle was perched on top of large armoire, shaking her head and grinning at William; he in turn was pointing at the ground.

“Get down here, you little minx,” William said, smiling. “I’ll call a truce, for now.” Alfred shook his head.

“I would ask but I think I do not wish to know,” he remarked, smiling. William crossed his arms over his chest.

“She’s quicker than she looks,” said he.

“He started it,” Michelle countered. “He was trying to tickle me; most unfair.”

Aiming to end the ‘war’ William turned around to get a chair. When his back was turned Michelle nimbly leaped down and ducked behind Alfred for protection.

“She’s a veritable lemur, sir,” Alfred intoned, trying not to laugh. “Perhaps, though, Miss Gregory wishes to turn in, as we all do.” He gave William a remanding glare.

“Perhaps so,” William assented, sobering a little.

“In which case I shall bid you both 'good night',” Alfred said, stifling a yawn. He waddled off, leaving Michelle in the hall; she looked warily at her boyfriend. Hands in his pockets, William leaned against the library door jamb regarding Michelle with a soft expression.

“I’m starting to like your barefoot-pajama-housecoat look,” he remarked. Michelle blushed, but kept her distance.

“I’m going to ignore that,” she said, softly. “And bid you goodnight, since I didn’t really get to earlier.” In one movement, William stepped forward and caught her in his arms again; his speed rather surprised Michelle.

“You’re not the only dexterous person around here,” William told her. He turned them both around; Michelle felt the library door behind her back. Looking up, she searched William’s eyes. “I have so many things I want to tell you, love,” he said, softly. “It’s just too early to say them.”

William thought his words sounded extremely lame... and vague, but they honestly represented his thoughts. He’d been toying with the idea of proposing to Michelle for quite a few days, in spite of their relatively new acquaintance, especially since thoughts of her kept him awake at night and facilitated the necessity of frequent cold showers; more so than at any other time in his life. However, the look of trust Michelle regarded him with made William push down his desires once more.

“Soon she’ll be mine,” he thought. Michelle observed that her companion inwardly battled with something and smiled reassuringly.

“I bid you goodnight, Sir William,” she said gently, her eyes bright. “I hope you sleep well.” William was thinking of kissing her on the forehead but Michelle surprised him by standing up on her tip toes and giving him a real kiss. William returned it, holding her tightly; he felt his newly re-enforced dam of resolve fast slipping away.

Breaking apart from her, William pushed away from the wall.

“Ah... perhaps we should say goodnight, shall we?” he said, his normally steady tone a bit faltering.

“I thought I was saying ‘goodnight’,” she said, smiling. William favored her with a look that said otherwise.

“A goodnight like that can lead to good morning rather quickly, Michelle,” he informed her, smiling. At this, his companion blushed. “So... good night?” William realized how difficult this was, even for him. This girl was unlike any other he’d ever met.

“Goodnight, William,” she replied, softly; she turned and walked to her room.

Against his better judgment William watched her every move until her door closed, cutting her off from his view. Running his hand through his hair, he trudged down the hallway to his own room, an expression of undisguised misery on his face. As he passed Alfred’s door, he heard it shut, very quietly. William chuckled. The fatherly valet was fast becoming their chaperon.

“Not such a bad idea,” he thought, once alone in his room. He turned the shower on, setting it on ‘cold’.

In her room Michelle collapsed backward on the bed, feeling absurdly like a teenager with a crush. Giggles came bubbling up and were effectively quelled.

“Honestly,” she said, to herself. “They are just kisses...”She smiled up at the ceiling. “Wonderful kisses,” she thought, closing her eyes. Michelle quickly slipped under her covers; a feeling of safety washed over her, mixing well with the affections William had inspired in her. She drifted off to sleep, wondering what William had wanted to tell her.

CHAPTER SIX

At 7AM Michelle’s eyes flew open. Somewhere beside her, a small alarm clock played classical music; the dark room felt unfamiliar and smelled of lavender. After a moment, Michelle realized where she was; she slipped out of bed with a secret smile; she wanted a shower and then to quickly dress. There was no way she could sleep in; excitement flooded her and she felt had to move about in some sort of productive manner.

The shower itself appeared quite modern one in design with a round, clear surround and a curved, hinged door; it was the kind of shower that left one feeling completely exposed while washing. Michelle wished she could put a towel over the top of it but the near-invisible wall went all the way to the ceiling. Her shower was quick though, with the bathroom door security locked. The night before, she’d discovered new bottles of conditioners and shampoo, as well as lovely, richly-lathering soap; it all smelled of the ocean and of sunny, sandy beaches. Clean and dry Michelle opened the clothes armoire and took out the light-gray wool suit-dress.

Lifting the hanger, she spied a garment-steamer hanging on the back of the armoire door. Amused at its presence, Michelle plugged it in and spent a few minutes figuring out how to use it; she’d seen it done on infomercials. To her surprise the gadget really did work, almost as if she’d had her clothes professionally pressed. It ironed out the creased her white cotton blouse as well. As she put the steamer away Michelle felt a little silly spending so much time on her clothes; she had to admit that William’s words about her clothes being ‘shabby’ still rankled with her a little.