The Reluctant Fall

Three.

Penelope made her way up to her room after her third or fourth glass of champagne that afternoon. Everyone else pretty much started to disappear around the same time too. It was still a few hours before dinner, and Penelope wanted nothing more than a power nap, and a hot shower in her extremely strong water pressured ensuite. Each room (more like a suite) had its own private bathroom. Aubrey Hall resembled and felt like an extremely lavish boutique hotel rather than a 'holiday' home. Violet had put her heart and soul into every single piece of décor, she had a real love for this place, maybe it was because her and Edmund got married here, or maybe it was just because of all the amazing memories.

Penelope: Dress code for tonight?🤔

Fran: I'm going LBD.

Daphne: I'd say just a nice dress.

Daphne: Oh! What about the navy set you have?

Penelope: The one from Zara?

Daphne: That one yes!😍

Fran: Omg your arse looks amazing in that.

Penelope: What is going on with you two??😒

Fran: Forgot to tell you Michael has just arrived.

Penelope: As is John's cousin?

Fran: Yep.

Penelope: Very funny.

Daphne: She's not lying. He's here for the week.

Penelope: Great. Why didn't you tell me?

Fran: I forgot, and I mean...come on it was ages ago.

Penelope:😐

Michael bloody Stirling. Penelope hadn't seen him in around six months. The last time she did, her tongue was well and truly down his throat, and his hands were most definitely on her ass. It was a drunken night at some club, and after one too many tequilas, she kissed him. He more than welcomed it, in fact before she was dragged away by Sophie for being far too inebriated and past the point of a 'consensual shag' she remembered being thrusted against a wall and feeling his erection grinding against her thigh. (Not to worry though, he was drunk too, even more so than Penelope). Michael had attempted to get her number from Fran a few days later, but Penelope said no. She didn't want to cause complications for Fran & John. Plus, he wasn't Penelope's type. You know, the type that was completely besotted with their cousin's girlfriend. It was plainly obvious Michael was in love with Francesca after two minutes of being around him. No one else seemed to notice right enough, Michael Stirling had the bad boy, playboy persona down to a tee to everyone else. Penelope could see right through it. The next day Daphne called Penelope an idiot for not shagging him, and Sophie said if Penelope wasn't going too, she'd happily take one for the team.

Well this is going to be an awkward week.

After her nap, and long, very long, shower, Penelope dug around the wardrobe for her two-piece. It was a pair of tight cigarette trousers with a tightly fitted waistcoat as a top. It was supportive enough that Penelope could wear it without a bra. She paired it with some open toed nude-coloured heels, and then grabbed her favourite Vivenne Westwood jewellery set. She decided to leave her hair down in flowing waves that she achieved through her heated rollers. She quickly topped up her lipstick and then opened her door, strangely, to see a certain Michael Stirling opening the door directly across from her.

They set this up. She was going to kill them both. Slowly.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he smirked as he dragged his silver eyes from her toes right to the top of her head. Penelope sarcastically smirked and closed the door behind her, "Nice to see you too Michael." Michael laughed while coming along beside her down the hallway, "Oh Penelope, at least say it like you mean it." When they approached the stairs, he graciously held out his arm, and to her reluctance she accepted, she really didn't want to tumble and break her neck, especially at Christmas. At the bottom of the stairs she saw a sheepish Daphne and Francesca make a quick getaway. Traitors. "That's some outfit gorgeous, how on earth will I ever concentrate on dinner tonight?" Michael teased. I mean he hadn't done anything wrong, but she wanted to give off the 'not interested' vibe. But somehow, she had a feeling Michael Stirling liked the chase. As they reached the bottom of the stairs Penelope let go of his arm, "I'm sure you'll live Mr Stirling."