Promiscuity • a.u • Robbie Kay

~Eight~

(Song for this chapter is Live in Hope by Alfred Newman)

We retreated to the garden where the morning air was fresh and you could look over an array of green hills covered in tall evergreen and oak trees for miles on end.

In the garden, there were scattered willow trees that blanketed down in canopies and rose bushes that lined the cobblestone maze, leading to one of two fountains at Bramsey Hall.

Rainy days in the garden were my favorite.

On rainy days, I could be alone, as no one wanted to be outside when grey clouds hovered overhead and cast a great heavy shadow across the hills.

"I don't know how on earth you enjoy such depressing weather." my mother would always say when I had returned from such a gloomy walk.

But not now.

The sun shone brightly as if to punish me for my carelessness the punish me for the night before.

"I did not see you dancing very much at the party, Mirissa. I do hope you found many pleasant people to spend your time with." my mother inquired as we all walked along in the shaded grass.

Truthfully, I spoke very little, as my mother would often scold me for sharing my unique views on decency and politics.

"When people are indifferent, it is hard to get along, child. Better to keep your thoughts to yourself and appear humble and likable." she would say. "No man wants to marry an opinionated woman."

Yes, no man wants to marry an opinionated woman. That is why we shall always remain silent and look pretty for our busy wealthy husbands.

"I did speak to a few people, yes."

"I do believe I heard the piano on one occasion, but believed myself to be only hearing things. Mr. Kay, do you play?" she asked, slowing her pace so that she may walk beside him.

"Indeed, I do. In fact, I was giving your daughter lessons last night, ma'am. Hence, the music you heard."

"What a delightful idea, Mr. Kay! I do so wish you would continue with the lessons. How wonderful it would be to have someone in the family that plays. That piano belonged to my mother, you know, and after she passed, it was hardly ever touched."

If there was one thing my mother had certainly perfected, it was the ability to maintain small talk and truly convince the listener that she was absolutely passionate about whatever subject present in conversation, something I never could manage without growing bored so obviously.

As the morning grew on, my mother and father resided themselves in the house, leaving the three of us alone for the first time since the gentlemen's arrival to Bramsey.

"You two disappeared for quite a large part of the evening. Should I even bother to ask?" Varney said finally when the silence between us grew achingly more uncomfortable.

Surely, Varney knew of Mr. Kay's erotic activities. The whole of London knew, so how should it be possible to hide from your dearest friend?

"Just as I said, I was teaching Miss Devereaux to play the piano." he stated, and still I made no comment. "Prior to the occasion, of course, I did help her to bed." he added.

"Help her to bed? Now, Robbie, you and I both know that term could be taken in a variety of ways." Varney chuckled. "And do not speak as if you are in court. You are not obliged to confess anything to me."

"He means it only as he said it, cousin. Nothing at all happened between us after the ball, but I do wish to speak to Mr. Kay, privately."

"The old hags aren't here anymore, Mira, you mustn't stick to formalities." Varney reminded, but I only gave him a look of annoyance.