Bound by Consent (16 page)

“Ordinarily I would agree with you but Marisa said an odd thing, ‘Esmée has your card marked.’ I didn’t understand what she meant then but it makes a whole lot more sense now.”

“Okay, honey, we’ll deal with it in the morning. Now go to sleep.”

“I can’t... I’m too wound up by what’s happened.”

Cassie growled. “In that case maybe I can make you forget, for a little while at least.” She rolled over and took me in her arms. Her knee spread my thighs apart as she settled her weight onto me.

She knew just the right buttons to push to get me going. Within a short while Cassie had taken me over the edge into a place where nothing mattered except the incredible high of my orgasm.

I woke next day to the reality of the situation, another police interview, plus a lack of clothes, shoes, and all the other personal items that one takes for granted. A few forays into the stores around Knightsbridge, Bond Street, and Sloane Square soon solved the clothes problem, but the rest would take a bit longer to replace.

Cassie accompanied me on a two day trip to Berlin and then back to New York for the fashion week where, to give due credit, she never left my side. I worked on autopilot with uncertainty about the future playing havoc with my nerves and, to a certain extent, to my relationship with Cassie which stagnated rather than flourished. London, Milan and Paris all passed without any incident other than a few glares from Esmée and Marisa. After a while I stopped phoning the police to check on the progress of an investigation that seemed to be going nowhere fast.

What is taking so long?

The one constant in all this trauma was Célestin. Whenever our paths crossed, her contagious enthusiasm for the upcoming trip to Auchtercairn lightened my otherwise gloomy outlook. It would be good to get to know her a little outside of work.

With the fashion circus finally behind us Cassie insisted we spend the next couple of months at Auchtercairn. Not hiding exactly, although it felt a bit like that to me, but recovering and regrouping as she termed it.

Fate, however, decreed a change of plan. A phone call from the police just twenty four hours short of our departure north put the arrangements on hold.

The following morning we presented ourselves to the police station, as instructed. Buoyed up by the summons and assuming we were to hear they’d found the culprit or made some substantial progress in the case. What we learned instead proved a devastating blow to our hopes.

Cassie was summarily arrested on suspicion of perverting the course of justice.

It appeared that the police had
undisclosed
reasons to believe that she had conspired with others to kidnap me, send those threatening notes, and cause criminal damage to my apartment in order to gain my trust for
unspecified
fraudulent purposes.

They’ve made a mistake.

I couldn’t comprehend the enormity of these accusations even when the details were explained to me. “No! You’ve got it all wrong,” I protested time and time again. My stomach churned and tears cascaded down my cheeks. In fact I ended up crying all the way through the extended police interview.

Cassie can’t have done all this.

The denials reverberated relentlessly in my head. I didn’t believe a word of the claims against her. The police, however, were adamant there was sufficient evidence to pursue this line of inquiry and they had to investigate all the facts before deciding if any charges would be laid. Even worse was to come. Cassie was granted bail while the inquiries were made but one of her bail conditions stipulated that she must not make any contact with me by phone, email, mail or in person.

“Please!” I begged the desk sergeant. “I need to speak to her, urgently, just for a couple of minutes.”

“Sorry, Miss Austin, no can do.” He shook his head. “You are a potential witness here. I suggest you go home and forget about her.”

Some chance of that.

Totally distraught, I left the police station and wandered the streets with no idea of direction. Only later did it occur to me that I had no home to go to now. I had given up the apartment, after the attack, and never wanted to set foot in the place again.

I will never forget Cassie as long as I live.

Then it occurred to me that no matter what the police said I must return to her apartment in Curzon Street. All my stuff was there. I, at least, had the legal right to pick it up. Then I must find somewhere else to stay until this was all resolved one way or the other.

Cassie was at home. Her face so drawn she looked ten years older.

“Oh, honey...” She opened her arms and I flew into them. Our lips locked and her arms closed about me. She finally broke the kiss.”Where have you been all afternoon?”

“Walking. Trying to make sense of this mess.” I shrugged. “Why did it happen?”

“I don’t know, honey.” She stroked my cheek. “I was so worried about you.”

“There was no need.” My tears overflowed once again. “Who did this to you...to us?” Stupid question. I knew the answer, deep down, even before the words left my mouth.

Cassie confirmed my thoughts. “Esmée has exacted her revenge. This is the culmination of everything that has happened before. Her final throw of the dice.”

“How can she hope to get away with such lies?”

“She won’t, but it will take time – probably months – to resolve. She no doubt hopes that the waiting, or the uncertainty, will destroy us.” Cassie held me from her, a frown creasing her brow. “We must be very careful, honey. You never know who is watching, or looking for evidence to make further accusations against me. Do you understand the implications if I’m caught with you?”

“Not exactly... What can they do to us?”

“To me, honey. Just me. You’re not under any restrictions but I could have my bail revoked and end up behind bars for the duration.”

“But you haven’t done anything wrong,” I protested, my voice cracking up. “I thought this country prided itself on a premise of innocent until proven guilty? This situation rather smacks of guilty until proven innocent.”

“The police need to work that out for themselves and until they do I’m stuck in this limbo. Come...” Cassie led me into the bedroom. “I can’t let you go without showing you how much I care.”

The feeling was mutual. We fell onto the bed, tearing at clothes as if in a race to see who could get naked first. Our lovemaking was urgent and deeply satisfying.

Cassie kissed me, silencing my post orgasmic gasps, her breathing as ragged as mine “You can’t stay here any longer, honey, that’s for sure. Much as I want you to it’s impossible.”

‘I know...” I tried to hold myself together for her sake. “I wish I could be here to help and give you strength but...”

“You must go to Auchtercairn. Hamish and Effie will look after you and keep you safe until this nightmare is over.”

“No, I don’t want to go up there without you.” I snuggled closer.

“You can’t stay in London, it’ll be too risky. Besides which, I couldn’t bear the thought of you being so close yet not having you in my bed.

“I’ll go to Cornwall. That’s far enough away from London and I know of a quiet place on the Falmouth estuary where I can hide while you get this problem sorted out.

Cassie shook her head. I’d rather you went to Scotland, but if you’re sure Esmée won’t find you there... Will you drive?”

“No, I’ll go down by train and leave Jazzy in London, she’s safely locked up in the garage. If I need transport I’ll hire something untraceable for as long as I need it. St Anthony is really quiet, very peaceful and remote. I stayed there, as a child, long before Esmée. I shall be perfectly safe.”

“Okay, but keep in touch. I know we’re not supposed to communicate but I can’t bear the thought of you out there all on your own. Anything could happen to you.”

“Don’t be silly.” I kissed her softly. “I’m a big girl and I did okay before you came into my life.”

“I know, honey, but Esmée may be looking for a way to get at you now that I’m effectively out of the picture.”

“She’ll have a hard job in a place like St Anthony.”

Cassie grunted. “While I think of it, you’d better not send any postcards or letters, they’ll be too easy to intercept, and the same applies to phone calls. I’ll get a cheap used notepad from the market tomorrow, something with wifi that I can use anywhere, and set up an anonymous email address for Piper and you should do the same for Tavish. I’ll find a way to send a text to your cell with the details of the account.” She grinned. “Nobody is going to worry about two horses emailing each other.”

“Okay.” I shook my head, smiling at her inventiveness. “And before it gets forgotten, one of us will need to tell Célestin that her visit is off. Shall I do that?”

“If you would, honey.” Cassie stroked my arm. “You know her better than I do. I’ll leave it to you to decide how much to tell her.”

We showered together, savoring every moment of the precious time left to us then I dressed and got online to book a hotel near Paddington from where I could catch a train to the Westcountry the following day. I left calling a cab until last; it seemed so final.

My bags were already packed from our previously scheduled departure. I added my cosmetics and washing bag, kissed Cassie one last time and forced myself to walk out the door. I knew if I looked back I would never have the strength to leave.

Tears misted my vision all the way to the hotel and for a good part of the train ride. The further away I got from Cassie the greater the pain of our separation. I broke my trip in Exeter, to stay a few nights in a comfortable hotel close to the cathedral. It gave me the opportunity to make the necessary arrangements for accommodation, buy a few clothes and shoes, things more suitable for the country, plus a new tablet with wifi for portable use. I hoped there would be a good signal for my cell phone in St, Anthony, and a fast internet connection for my laptop too, but I needed to be prepared for any eventuality. In a worst case scenario I could always catch the ferry over to St. Mawes or Falmouth for supplies and hook up to a free wifi connection.

Célestin was appalled when I called her with the news of Cassie’s arrest. “You must come to me in Paris,” she offered without hesitation. “Esmée and Marisa will not be able to find you here.”

I declined her invitation, explaining that I wanted to be on hand if anything happened. Although my excuse was somewhat lame since I could have got to London from Paris by Eurostar much faster than by train or plane from Cornwall but I doubt Célestin realized that. I put on a brave face and told her, “You must come to Auchtercairn next year once this business is behind us.”

“I’ll look forward to it, chérie,” Célestin said. “Please keep me informed of any developments and stay strong. Justice will prevail.”

By the end of the week I was settled into a cozy cottage just a few steps from the St. Mawes ferry. A tiny walled garden surrounding the cottage gave me an extra feeling of security. Walking on the traffic free peninsular was a real pleasure after London and all the busy cities I’d visited over the past months. The only thing missing was Cassie. How I wished I could share this with her.

We’d made contact, via our equine identities, whilst I was staying in Exeter and found exchanging emails easy. We even tried a couple of IM sessions but sadly Skype defeated us.

I filled my days with planning my work schedule for the coming season, and exploring the locality with my camera. Landscape photography wasn’t really my thing but it kept me from brooding and I amassed enough material to consider publishing a photo-journal of my sojourn when this was all over.

A month into my exile Cassie booked into a hotel for the afternoon – she was on a nightly curfew from 6pm to 6am so overnight was out – during which time we jointly spent a small fortune having phone sex.

Cassie phoned me to begin the foreplay. “Please tell me that you’re wearing your sexy lingerie.” It was clear from Cassie’s voice that she expected, no demanded, an affirmative.

“Sorry to disappoint but I’ve been out all morning taking pictures and I’m still wearing jeans and a sweatshirt. Give me five minutes to change and I’ll call you back.”

“Don’t keep me waiting honey...” She gave me her room number and hung up.

I phoned her back, right on time although slightly out of breath from rushing, and put the phone on speaker.

“Okay, honey... Cassie’s ‘Mistress’ voice oozed silk. I want you to strip for me. You know the routine. I want to picture you strutting your stuff.”

She doesn’t want much.

I’d stripped for her a number of times now but still found doing so a bit of a challenge. Although maybe it wouldn’t be so hard this time with just me, the cell phone, and the mirror.

“Think back to New York,” I said, attempting to ramp up the tension straight away. “I’m watching myself in the full length mirror so I can see what you saw then. I’ve unbuttoned the jacket and it’s hanging open. I can see my bra... and my tits...” I smiled.

This half undressed view is kind of sexy.

“Okay, honey...I get the picture. Keep talking.”

“Now I’m removing the jacket, just shrugging out of very slowly and letting it slide down my arms. It’s off, and I’m using my hands to push my tits up. They’re aching for freedom but I’m going to take this really slowly.”

“Imagine those are my hands, honey. Tell me how it feels to have my fingers spanning the full weight of those gorgeous tits and my thumbs circling your nipples through the lace.”

“Oh...that is so good.” I copied her description to the letter. “My nipples are really hard.”

“Good...now I want you to pull the bra down and lift your tits out. No, don’t undo the clasp.”

I did as she instructed, forcing myself to savor the moment. A spike of awareness contracted my insides and I bit my lip to stifle the gasp of pleasure.

“They’re out,” I confirmed. Admiring the result in the mirror. Being forced up like this my nipples were darker and extra prominent, begging for attention.

Dare I risk a quick flick or pull?