1 comments/ 26758 views/ 5 favorites Carrington Mansion Ch. 01 By: Egmont Grigor An Englishman's property inheritance in Midwest America leads to romance between a womanizing son of a recently deceased Duke and a beautiful but feisty attorney. Both harbor an unfulfilled desire to find a mate who'd exceeded their expectations. Chapter 1 In late spring the Mornington Daily News reported at length the death of the Duke of Beaulieu in the county of Hampshire, England, aged eighty-seven. The obituary was noted with considerable relief in the small city of Mornington-on-Test in America Midwest, with those citizens wondering if the demise of the Duke ended some 175 years of invasive dominance of the English-spawned Carrington family on their city. Mornington spreads on both sides of the city's river Test, an unusual name for an American river, but in 1832 English aristocrat Lord Charles Carrington, third son of the Duke Of Beaulieu and the recent purchaser (on his father's behalf) of the city site and a considerable area of plains beyond it, succeeded in having political pals in high places push through the name change with wide support from other people who also found the ancient Indian name difficult to pronounce. On that day the death of the Duke of Beaulieu was reported, Mayor Al Kennedy called an emergency meeting of council to discuss what action to take. Mayor Kennedy wanted his council to figure out how to seize the land from the Carrington stranglehold, hopefully without having to outlay too much money. One of the nine councilors attending that meeting was recently elected Kitty Carlisle-Bowden who called herself Kitty Carlisle. Kitty suggested the council offer the Duke $4 million for the purchase of the Carrington Estate in the heart of downtown Mornington and being the only realistic suggestion, that proposal was adopted. The council was aware its bold plan could fail because on numerous summer vacations to the city, the heir apparent and womanizing elder son of the Duke, the Marquess of Chawton, had been openly contemptuous of Mornington. In one instance during an interview on local television, Lord Chawton called Mornington 'a poxy place bereft of culture but remarkable for its quality of loose women'. That, of course, reinforced dislike of the arrogant Carrington brood. The mayor and council agreed the 12th Duke of Beaulieu would surely see merit in having the land preserved in perpetuity as city parkland. The vivacious Kitty, youngest of the councilors by far at thirty-one, had suggested the land be named Carrington Park and the home on the estate converted into the city's long needed arts center, to be called the Carrington Memorial Arts Center to tempt the new Duke to rid himself of his connection with the place he'd labeled poxy. While the mayor and other councilors hurried home to their loved ones, Kitty walked to her apartment overlooking Carrington Estate, completely unaware she'd triggered a process that would suck her into the Carrington dynasty. No one was more devout about seeing Carrington family members purged from the city environs than Kitty Carlisle-Bowden. She had to suggest enshrining that detested name in the city's history as a matter of expediency, having assumed the new Duke wouldn't accept a below market price sale without some accompanying incentive. Kitty looked across to the Carrington Mansion and smiled: Over many generations her family had been harassed and finally crushed by the Carrington's directly descended from Lord Charles Carrington who'd settled in America and adopted northern values, whereas the originally prosperous Carlisle-Bowden settlers had migrated from Louisiana. Bad feeling between the two families arose through the original Carrington settlers being used to dominance. The arrivals from Louisiana had slipped in without anyone else aware they were a family of concealed wealth. Eventually the Carrington's were horrified to discover they had a rival in their domain. Their landholdings were being willing divested very profitably when it became apparent the Carlisle-Bowden's had acquired large tracts of that land, and so the feuding began. Eventually the feuding died -- as did some of the frontline feuding folk on both sides and almost all survivors and kin either died off or relocated. Today Kitty was the only Carlisle-Bowden left in the region and others of American Carrington descent were all but gone. * * * Kitty wasn't surprised that the mayor and the city administrator had not invited her to accompany them when they left next day for England. They took their wives and the foursome could be expected to tour Britain, at the city's expense, while the incoming Duke and his kin and lawyers considered the council's proposal. In bed that night Kitty recalled how it all began. Mornington was established in the early 1830s as the village site on the estate of the recently retired army major, Lord Charles Carrington. Known in America simply as Charlie and acknowledged as the black sheep of the family, Charlie was paid handsomely by his father to settle in America. The hard-living and hard-fighting son of unsavory character when living in England had run up gambling debts and killed civilians in duels including two who'd accused the drunkard of impregnating their wives. Water buffalo, antelope, goats, wild boar, foxes, pheasants and Canadian moose were brought in by the influential rogue to stock his lands to provide sport for the more bloodthirsty of his pals in high places and visiting nobility and lesser dignitaries from the Old Country. But a continuous replacement program of game restocking ended within a few years when Charlie admitted defeat. For every head of game shot by influential guest, something like ten were shot by intruders including Indians or taken by rustlers or died from the effects of snow, drought or lightening strikes. With new territorial boundaries and Indian threats settled, settlers were spilling in and offered good prices for land. Charlie's original estate had grown quickly to 1,137,450 acres and during the next 100 years was sold. Today the estate, now back in English ownership, on the eastern riverbank of Mornington totals a mere five acres right in the heart of downtown. Its value was currently assessed, with the bulk of it restricted from development by open land zoning, at $5.15 million. For the past fifty years, successive generations of Carrington's based in New York and the principal branch based in England, had used the sprawling dwelling as a summer residence. With twenty-four bedrooms, there had been room for three generations at a time to share the accommodation. That Great House was lost to fire during an electrical storm five years ago and the Duke had it replaced with an architecturally designed grand dwelling of only ten bedrooms. That big house would be an ideal arts center, mused Kitty preparing to go to sleep. Kitty had a degree in fine arts to go with her law degree and was developing as a landscape artist, preferring to paint in watercolors. She drifted into sleep thinking if her proposal succeeded, the Carrington's would be responsible for lifting the level of culture in a community so apparently detested by the incoming Duke. From a recess within her mind as Kitty's eyes fluttered closed came the unladylike thought that the Carrington's wouldn't know the difference between art and their assholes. Kitty was well aware there was a rebellious gene in her that prevented her from consistently thinking elegantly. That was why she'd never aspired to be anyone but her natural self. In family tradition her father, when alive, had periodically lectured her and her older brother Dean (who drowned ten years ago) that the Carrington's were and always would be assholes. * * * The legacy of the quest to acquire Carrington Estate in Mornington amounted to bitter disappointment and, as well, 105 invoices and receipts plus credit card billings from the extravagant spending in Britain by the mayor and city administrator and their wives. The incoming Duke had eventually told the delegation from Mornington to 'get lost'. Kitty upset the mayor's pal who chaired the finance committee on which she served when she insisted the committee go through the claims for reimbursement with 'due diligence'. Max King, the chairman, told her to be quiet and moved the committee approve the claims 'as submitted.' Smiling sweetly Kitty said, "Mr Chairman, unless these two claims for reimbursement are considered with due diligence I shall initiate legal proceedings to have the actions of this committee reviewed by a court-appointed Public Commission to look into my claim that criminal actions have taken place within this committee." Not unexpectedly the committee exercised due diligence and disallowed claims totally $11,369 from the mayor and $9,019 from the city administrator. Not unexpectedly, the mayor called Kitty to his office. "Good morning Kitty," said snake eyes. "Coffee?" "Yes please Al." "You know Kitty," Al soothed, at the bench pouring coffee. "As a newcomer on council you may be unaware of some of our customary procedures." "I consider myself expertly informed on procedures as published in the booklet titled, Handbook for Councilors, dated 2007 that I know to be the current publication Al." "There are some procedures that are unwritten policy." Kitty took the coffee offered and smiled, "Al, let me be perfectly clear. If you or anyone else on council or council administration attempts to coerce me into questionable and clearly illicit practices, I shall nail each and every person so involved." "Yes, quite so Kitty. Now turning to something different, I would like to know your thoughts about me switching you from finance to chair a new committee, um, called recreation and arts." "What is the reason behind that?" "I had studied your CV and noticed that you performed with distinction at college and law school in middle distance running, tennis and had some success in swimming and you list your recreational interests as fitness, tennis, kayaking, judo and landscape painting. It occurred to me that you have the interests and attributes to head this new committee of three councilors." Noticing the mayor's cold gaze, Kitty figured she was off the finance committee whatever she decided. "Thank you Al," she smiled. "I accept. I guess arts has been trimmed off social services and the other activities from being misplaced in works and construction?" "Yes, good spotting Kitty. Your committee inherits their share of existing budgets and the city administrator and I have tossed in another $100,000 as a sweetener and to get your new committee up and running with the ability to apply some vision." "Oh excellent Al. I realize that since I had accepted so readily you had no need to fish out that so-called sweetener." "How could I keep that incentive from you Kitty? It is our wish to keep you onside and develop into one of our more productive and effective councilors." Kitty stood and smiled. "Thank you Al. I feel you have handled this diplomatically and effectively because you have managed to tap into my interests." The mayor looked at her a little more warmly. "Thank you Kitty." Kitty hurried back to her law office to assist people in real need -- her clients. Cynically she thought who needed corrupt city officials? She vowed to lever the mayor out of office and the city administrator Kent Frohwein sent packing although that could take some time to achieve. As soon as an email circulated announcing Kitty's appointment to chair the new committee, Peggy Blewitt called on Kitty to congratulate her. They knew each other socially. "I'm aware you often have been in the gallery but must meet my staff and take a look behind the scenes," the gallery manager said. They'd done that and now stood outside a large warehouse where gallery treasures and less noteworthy possessions were stored. Looking at the two-level building Kitty asked, "How much of the space do we have?" "All two floors and the basement and we have another single level warehouse containing donations of lesser merit." "Wow, we need a much larger gallery." "Oh yes," Peggy sighed, "Please get it for me." "Done," Kitty joked, unaware of course that in time she would deliver. * * * Two months later Kitty took a call her PA had said was important but gave no details. "Miss Carlisle-Bowden, you won't know me. I'm Hayden Carrington calling from London." Oh no, not one of the asshole Carrington's, Kitty sighed, intrigued that this guy's accent appeared neither to be English or American. Was it mid-Atlantic? "Hello Mr Carrington. I call myself Kitty Carlisle but if this is a friendly call you may call me Kitty." "Please call me Hayden. I was astonished to find you, a Carlisle-Bowden, originated the purchase proposal and suggested perpetuating the family name by calling our remaining land Carrington Park should the acreage be sold to the city." "Well, I'm really not one to feud and intelligence suggested a little appeasement might go a long way." "You sound youngish." "Mr Carrington, is this a business call?" "No Kitty." "In that case I'm relaxed about personal comment." "When may I come to see you?" "Before nightfall today would be convenient." "Kitty, I'm in London." She laughed and apologized for teasing him. "I'll try to get my head around time changes and see if I can make it by nightfall if that's possible and if you insist." She laughed and said before nightfall on any day that suited him. "I work long days." "Every day?" "No, I don't work weekends." "Kitty, may I have your email address. I'll be in touch." Kitty resumed working on a brief after asking her PA to find pertinent facts about Englishman Hayden Carrington who was related to the Duke of Carrington and to email it to her soonest. Ten minutes later Kitty's laptop bleeped and she scanned the email. Kitty -- you were talking to Lord Hayden Carrington, thirty-four, youngest son of the recently deceased Duke of Beaulieu, conceived as a complete surprise to the late Duchess in her 42nd year. An American, she returned to Boston for the birth of her baby, fearing complications so Hayden has dual citizenship and appears to have no occupation but travels considerably off the beaten tracks and sells his photos and paintings. Kitty called Gina. "Paintings? What sort of paintings?" "Just a minute...um, here it is. Portraits. Apparently he's hung in galleries." "Gina, that means he's a painter of some acclaim. Please find out more. What's his education and is he into fitness and tennis and swimming?" "Kitty, you instructed me to list areas of importance." "Well, this is turning out to be more than a passing interesting to me. Sports and education please Gina and clubs and service on voluntary organizations." A revised email arrived and Kitty read on with growing interest, wondering if the asshole Carrington's had managed to throw up a good guy. Afflicted by bad behavior problems at Cambridge linked to excessive drinking and womanizing, surged to reach almost elite level in rowing, represented the university in tennis but sent down [expelled] in his second year after being found in bed with the Provost's [chief academic officer] wife and 18-year-old daughter. God, what an asshole, Kitty giggled, acknowledging she sometimes imbibed alcohol excessively and at law school rather a large number of male students claimed to have had some familiarity with Kitty's kitty. Good at rowing huh? Then perhaps she could take him kayaking after tennis. Whoa girl, what are you thinking: he's an asshole Carrington. She read on. At his mother's instance switched from Classics to fine arts. The late duchess who drew the sketches in her three well-selling publications of poems had fostered Hayden's interest in drawing. At art academy his nude painting of his principal tutor, supposedly a chaste married woman, caused a sensation. Critics privileged to view the seized painting agreed one rarely saw such charged emotions and aroused genitalia in a painting of a female immediately after sex. Scandal was hushed up and painting reputedly destroyed. Tutor's husband and family didn't find out. Hayden agreed to switch to formal portraiture to avoid the alternative of facing expulsion. Graduated an honors student and began painting his way through some present day nobility in Great Britain but rejected by Royalty with two exceptions due to inside knowledge about his dalliances. Now paints native people found in remote areas in all parts of world, collectors buying them for $10,000 plus each. "Naughty boy Hayden," Kitty cooed. "I wonder if you'll get to see my kitty? Paint it and I'll hang it behind my desk. Eventually someone will recognize what it is." A few days later Kitty took a call from a Mrs Agnes Wilson who'd insisted on talking to her. "Good afternoon Miss Carlisle. I am Mrs Wilson, permanent house manager of Carrington Mansion in Mornington. You know the property of course?" "Yes, I look out on it from my apartment. I must say I preferred the grand old residence." "Well said Miss Carlisle. I understand Lord Hayden Carrington has been in contact with you." "Hayden has, yes." There was a pause and Kitty could image Mrs Wilson preparing to speak through thin-pursed lips. "Miss Carlisle, the correct form of address is Lord Hayden." Kitty almost yawned. "I take it from your accent you are English Mrs Wilson?" "Certainly so." "We Americans have a more relaxed style about peerage and with anyone falling below our own First Family and Governor level. Besides my understanding is the Lord against Hayden's name is a courtesy title rather than a conferred title. Also he invited me to call him Hayden." "Very well Miss Carlisle. Lord Hayden has emailed asking me to find out your height, coloring, body shape, hair color and mouth shape." Kitty was quite flattered. "Oooh, I say. Tell him five feet nine, white skin with freckles, 34-23-36, auburn hair and heart-shaped face." She actually was five-nine and 34 and 23 and thickening and 36. But she was a brunette and her mouth shape was wide with generous lips. If Hayden boy wished to play games then so could she. "Miss Carlisle, I've noted what you've said but don't you wish to know the reason for this request?" "No Mrs Wilson. I'll give you my email address and in future Hayden can contact me if he wishes to know more intimate details about my body. "Really Miss Carlisle!" Kitty gave her email address and said goodbye. Two days later she gazed at the artwork from Hayden Carrington. It was excellent, drawn in pastels. She didn't like the red hair, especially the tuffs of red poking from under her thong but her bare breasts were awesome and her lips drawn pursed ready to be kissed were perhaps very much like hers. Her hair appeared windblown and riddled with pieces of straw. The artist's signature was Lord Hayden Carrington. Kitty read the message again: Dear Miss Carlisle. Drawn from my imagination and don't you look lovely? I imagine you have yummy breasts and don't shave below. Artist's license if my assumptions were incorrect. I'll call on you at 5:30 this Friday, flying in from New York. Let's hit a bar. Replying by email to thank Hayden for his impressionist joke and added he was welcome to call on her socially, Kitty called Gina who looked at the screen and said, "Wow, very sexy. Who is it?" "It's supposed to be me. I lied about my hair color and he hasn't seen me. My trunk is too long and my legs too short, but all in all it's a pretty good representation." "You mean your breasts are like that?" "More or less." "Wow boss, ask me out on a date sometime." They laughed and the PA was asked to send the file out for high quality reproduction and placed in a thin aluminum frame behind non-reflecting glass. Carrington Mansion Ch. 01 The PA asked if the drawing was not of Kitty why was Kitty wasting her money on it? "The artist has an big reputation for his portraits. This is hastily drawn in pastels but nevertheless is a work of art. When he visits if he decides to paint my vulva I shall highly prize his two offerings." "God Kitty, have you been drinking!" To be continued Carrington Mansion Ch. 02 An Englishman's property inheritance in Midwest America leads to romance between a womanizing son of a recently deceased Duke and a beautiful but feisty attorney. Both harbor an unfulfilled desire to find a mate who exceeded their expectations. In this chapter Kitty and Hayden finally meet and do a bit of verbal fencing. * Chapter 2 When heading to Mornington City in the Midwest, Hayden Carrington called on close kin in New York for three hours. His aunts and female cousins were agog that he'd become interested in just the one woman and she was American. Aunt Elizabeth asked was she a New Yorker and Hayden said no and revealed where she lived. "In that hole of Mornington -- the women are plain and dull and have only seen real beauty when the Carrington women from New York or England visit," Aunt Miriam huffed. Second cousin Clara, who'd wantonly spent a couple of nights on earlier visits with Hayden but to no avail, asked crossly, "What's she like?" "She has red hair apparently and a fine body." "What, you don't know?" Clara snapped jealously. "No, but I've spoken to her once. Her name is Kitty, she's an attorney and her voice spears through to my heart. I think she's the woman I thought I'd never find. Pity about the red hair." "Dam the red hair," Clara wailed, rushing from the room. Hayden grinned, "Bad time of the month?" Aunt Susan, Clara's mother, said with restraint, "I would think it's normal behavior among the women left heartbroken in your wake." "My late mother occasionally said she and her sisters were blessed, marrying men chosen by their heart. Would not you wish I were similarly blessed?" Aunt Susan smiled through tightening lips. "Oh, do you have a heart Hayden?" Aunt Elizabeth told them to cut the crap. "What's the name of this virginal princess Hayden?" "Kitty Carlisle." There was silence. Hayden knew what the aunts and their daughters in the room were thinking. He grinned, "No, she's not a figure skating queen or a stripper. I said earlier she was an attorney." "Are you sure about that Hayden?" said Clara returning to the room, her eyes red-rimmed. * * * Entering the modest airport terminal Hayden wished he'd asked Kitty to meet him there. He couldn't wait to meet her, to touch her. Only six other passengers had flown on the final leg and they were already dispersing. Hayden began walking to the car hire desk when a voice behind him callrd, "Lord Hayden Carrington?" He spun around, the smile dying on his face at not sighting a redhead. "I'm Kitty Carlisle." The beautiful brunette raised her lips to be kissed and the near-stunned stranger raced in to oblige. The woman kissed back and pulled away, saying coolly, "That was a friendly invitation to be kissed, not seduced, not with other people around." Chastised and mumbling an apology, Hayden felt his heart almost break through his ribcage. What was happening to him? "Welcome, I guess you have been here before?" "Many times. Where's the red hair?" "I lied," Kitty smiled provocatively. She moved from one side of him to the other, brushing her fringe from her eyes. Hayden had never seen a woman move so fast. Then she took his arm as if she owned him. That encouraged Hayden. He leaned around and cupped the sides of her breasts and said she hadn't lied about them. "Hayden, I know the English think American woman run wild with the sole interest of getting shafted." "But I am America?" "Living in England you'll be a little confused about nationality." God, Hayden thought, she had a sharp brain. "I'll concede that Kitty," he said imitating an American drawl that made her wince. "I prefer the mid-Atlantic version Hayden." He asked mid-Atlantic what? She sighed, his brain jumped into gear and he remembered he normally spoke halfway between upper class English-English and couth American. "Oh I'm sorry, I'm anxious that you find me appealing." Oh God, he thought, watching her closely and spotting a faint blush. Did that response mean she wanted him to like her? "Have you booked a car for the duration of your stay?" That seemed a straightforward question so Hayden answered, "Yes I have." "I though you might, so I came by cab. Am I invited to accompany you into the city to the bar of your choice? With your reputation I guess you have sorted out the ones you prefer?" That earned Kitty a quizzical look. "My reputation?" "Yes Hayden," she smiled, adjusting an earring. "Access to information these days has no boundaries." Hayden's walk slowed but she sailed on ahead, forcing him to pick up pace. "You mean you have read one of my unauthorized biographies posted on the Web?" "I asked for information and was given it Hayden. One normally doesn't ask trusted staff whether their sources reviewed were signed off as approved by the person being examined." Hayden's urbane cool was in danger of disintegrating. "You had me investigated?" On to Kitty's face appeared a smile, presumably practiced, that seemed to beam trust and reassurance. "I possessed no knowledge about you Hayden. You seemed so bent on meeting me that I simply resorted to normal procedure to update my background knowledge of you." Hayden stopped abruptly and this time Kitty also stopped. Gazing thoughtfully he said, "There's a contradiction here Kitty. How can you update your knowledge about me when you've already admitted knowing nothing about me?" "Why am I under interrogation?" "Don't duck for cover Kitty." Caught by this unexpected aggression, Kitty said slyly, "I wanted to satisfy myself that you were clear of the asshole Carrington mold. Hayden gaped. "The asshole Carrington mold?" Relieved to be jerked into adversary role instead of bumbling about like a scatty teenager, Kitty countered. "Are you aware of the Anglo-American history of your family Hayden, particularly that relating to Mornington?" "Yes, I think so." "I'm the sole Carlisle-Bowden left within 500 miles of Mornington. Feuding over 150 years and then declining into more genteel verbal abuse and persistent harassment for much of the past fifteen or so years between the two rival families has resulted in the Carlisle-Bowden's either being killed out or driven out or wearily walking away until now there's only me left and a few passive Carrington descendents." "Oh God, and you've survived because you're young and strong and because no English Carringtons are in permanent residence here?" "Appears so Hayden." "My ancestors had 800 years history of fighting to retain what was rightfully their land and their possession. Even the family black sheep Lord Charles Carrington who immigrated here as a military advisor one and three-quarter centuries ago was pressed into similar fights to preserve his wealth. It wasn't the fault of the Carrington family that the Carlisle-Bowdens chose to settle here." "Well, it was the so-called Free Country Hayden. The French side of my family left France because they were persecuted for their liberal and idealistic thinking. Later a break-away group of them from Louisiana came here and believed they'd found as good as Utopia one could get in this environment and built up their land holdings. They hadn't figured on meeting rivalry from Carringtons unwilling to see their dominance in this territory, established by Lord Charles Carrington, challenged by a family with French, Irish and northern England origins." "For goodness sake Kitty, don't blame me for that. You know I wasn't there." "Keep calm Hayden, of course, I know that. Your family hid its undesirable traits behind title and the façade of respectability. In contrast you appear as open as a book and your exploits and your licentious behavior are publicly documented, suggesting you are out of the traditional mold of the Carringtons." Hayden snorted, "This mold, I don't know what you are talking about. It doesn't exist." Kitty remained tight-lipped. Holding Kitty's arm lightly he said softly, "Come on Kitty, what is it?" Kitty sighed and said families set attitudes. The Carringtons considered themselves superior, with a warrior tradition and a history to look back on with pride. In comparison her ancestors had an unshakable belief in freedom to live life undisturbed. Determined to adhere to that tradition the family faced immense periodic pressure to conform to the contrary beliefs of others and often had to relocate including fleeing across the Atlantic and then later under the face of a different type of suppression a section of the family broke away to across a large slice of America to try to find a peaceful existence. Hayden said he understood what she was saying and in some ways the directions taken the American branch of the Carringtons and generations of her family were similar. "Truly I understand." "Do you Hayden? Then consider this: My paternal great-grandfather Peter was murdered by Nathan Carrington and the murderer's claim that it was an accident was rejected and he was jailed. But within four months he walked free on appeal. Peter's son, my father's father, was found hanged on a tree that straddled the boundary of his farm and the adjoining farm owned by Clement Carrington. There was an investigation but without witnesses the coroner returned a verdict of suspected suicide. Our family's claims of feuding between my grandfather and Clement Carrington were rejected due to lack of evidence. Further, no one could explain how granddad managed to hang himself over a bough twenty feet above the ground with a rope from the swinging body almost five feet above the ground that only just reached the fence post where it was tied. As well, the hat he always wore and the old mare he was riding that day were never found." "I'm sorry about your family Kitty, but why tell me this? You clearly indicated there was a lack of irrefutable evidence." "I'm interested in you Hayden because I suspect you may be a rare Carrington -- decent in the core because you paint, but I can't say I'm impressed by your reported wanton behavior with women. But then again, if I may be allowed to contradict myself, I suspect I'm not dismayed by your wanton behavior with women." "Yes of course, you may say that. But I still don't understand..." "Please don't wallow, refusing to look beyond my mere words Hayden." Hayden scratched his head and looked into Kitty's rather luminous green eyes. "I'll sleep on it and let you know." "Don't over-tax yourself, I'll tell you. My father believed the Carrington's killed his father and grandfather. My brother, now dead but not at the hand of a Carrington. I was the only person with him when our car plunged into a river. I was thrown out on the way down and the vehicle hit rocks and bounced into a deep hole, taking Bossy Boots as I called him, believed to be already fatally crushed, to the bottom. At least twice a month our father would tell us, 'The Carringtons are assholes' and after my brother's death I had to listen alone because mom would know what was coming and flee the room." "Christ Kitty." "It's fine. Just don't turn out to be an asshole. There's the counter, I'll stay with your bags while you complete the transaction for your hire car." * * * Watching the Carrington over at the desk, Kitty thought well he did have a great ass and a great head of hair. She was aware she was optimistic about him and would probably go to bed with him if invited. At that she wondered what was wrong with her: weren't the Carlisle-Bowden's supposed to be stoic, predictable and incredibly suspicious? As they drove off Hayden said, "You mentioned art?" "Yes I paint in watercolors -- landscape." "Sell any?" "Intermittently, in the $200-$500 range." Hayden asked was she self-taught. Kitty said she'd had tuition whenb passing through art school. "But you're an attorney?" "Yes, but I also did a degree in fine arts, majoring in art history." "Oh-oh?" The road ahead was clear so Kitty asked, "What?" "That interest is why you've latched on to me." Puzzled she asked what was he talking about? He'd called her from London. Until then she's never heard of him. "Well I know absolutely nothing about you, apart from the fact you don't have red hair, at least not on your head." She pouted and told him not to be so rude. "I can't understand this -- you're acting one minute as if you're actually interested in me and then you back off. It's confusing." "That phone call, your voice did something to me and then that was confirmed by the image I created from your measurements. I...I..." Kitty turned and snapped "What?" and then saw his face. "Ohmigod," she blushed. "I'm sorry." She replied don't be and said she surprised herself by taking an enormous interest in him just from hearing his voice on the phone and after he'd identified himself. Hayden's mouth opened and then closed without replying. They drove on for a minute not talking. Being female resulted in Kitty unable to bear the silence. "You said something about me latching on to you. I've done nothing of the sort. Remember dickhead, you called me." He grinned and let that one pass. "Take a left here," she said and he said he knew that and could read. "Sorry." "Do you always apologize?" She looked bewildered. "Actually no, and yet you appear to have brought that out in me." "Trying to impress," he grinned. She mouthed the word asshole and his grin widened. "You being into art, knowing I was really big into art and somehow finding out I have inherited the Carrington Estate in Mornington, you've decided to make a play for me." "What!" Kitty yelled. She was looking ahead while Hayden had turned to look at her. The yell startled him and so he braked heavily. Kitty yelled, "What the fuck are you doing?" Turning to look behind them she was relieved to find no other vehicle about to slam into them. They began moving again. Hayden muttered sorry. "I had absolutely no knowledge about your inheritance and until you called was unaware you existed." "Sorry, I took it that you knew." "Please stop apologizing. We've both decided to make such a good impression we are bending over backwards to lick ass." The car swerved. They laughed when Kitty said sorry. "I meant I regret to say I have an unladylike streak running through me and occasionally I fail keep the lid on, like just then." Hayden reached over and patted her leg. Kitty was wearing a short skirt and the vehicle being a roadster meant the laid-back seating position had exposed almost the total length of her thighs. Hayden's hand was quite close to the edge of Kitty's panties. As he finished saying a bit of rough talking suited an attorney with family connections back into the Wild West, they looked at his hand on the long length of olive skin. "Remove you hand but don't say sorry." Hayden did what he was told and pulled into parking space almost in front a bar. "It was an involuntary action and I was keen to confirm I don't mind you being a little wild." Kitty said she liked the idea of him thinking about her. "I don't mind you being interested in my legs -- you are an artist. Just don't rush it, huh?" "I'm not an asshole Kitty." She smiled and opened her door saying, "You're so smooth Hayden. No wonder you nail the women around you." "Kitty, I..." "Relax Hayden. I really don't mind, truly." Hayden said he'd get her door and jumped out but by the time he'd loped around the front of the vehicle she was out, with the door closed. He opened his mouth, presumably to apologize, so Kitty pulled down his head and kissed him. Taking Kitty by the arm Hayden said, "You're gorgeous Kitty, do you know that?" "Yes because I've been told often enough but be careful Hayden, Nailing a guy is not unknown to me." The owner hurried over and almost groveled. "Young Mr Carrington, how pleased we are to see you again. It was with regret we learned about the death of your father and we express our condolences." Kitty looked around to see who 'we' was but only Harry was near them. "And greetings to you Kitty." "Thank you and hi Harry." "Kitty is a regular and often brings her clients here," Harry explained. "Those are her offices, directly opposite." Hayden turned and saw the modest brick building he'd not noticed on earlier visits. It obviously had been upgraded stylishly and the brickwork rejuvenated. "Kitty Carlisle, Attorney at Law. Very nice. Do you own the building?" "Yes, Kitty owns seven of the eleven buildings on that block and a 32,000-acre ranch inherited from her parents." "Thank you Harry," Kitty glared. "Hayden, this loud-mouth served twenty-seven years as ranch foreman for my dad." "Yes, and Kitty bankrolled me into here," Harry said. They watched Harry limp to the bar and give their order to the female bartender. "That guy is so proud of you." "He finds it necessary to assume the role of a father figure to me. Don't mind him." "Exceedingly proud I'd say." "Lay off Hayden. Harry and Katrina don't have kids." A doe-eyed barmaid with plenty of flesh showing brought their drinks across and gasped when she saw who was with Kitty. "Hayden, so lovely to see you again. I was sad to hear about the duke." "Thank you Lisa. How are you going?" "I marry in four weeks Hayden. By the way, that neck to knees nude sketch you did of me -- I hope you don't mind but I sold it to dad and mom for a couple of hundred. They didn't want anyone else seeing it, not with...Lisa looked at Kitty. "Well, you know Hayden. Hi Miss Carlisle." "Good evening Lisa. It that Benny Arnold you are to marry?" "Yes, do you know him?" "I do, he's a client. You've done very well Lisa." As Lisa walked away, hips swaying, Kitty asked casually, "How long ago did you paint Lisa?"' "About eighteen months." "Christ Hayden, she's almost young enough to be your daughter." "Nah, she was eighteen." "You are best advised to stick with babes around your own age. If you are here and get desperate, give me a call." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah." Harry pulled an ear lobe. "But why?" "Young females should be left to grow up slowly." They lifted their glasses in silent salute and remained lost in their own thoughts for a few moments. To be continued... Carrington Mansion Ch. 03 An Englishman's property inheritance in Midwest America leads to romance between a womanizing son of a recently deceased Duke and a beautiful but feisty attorney. Both harbor an unfulfilled desire to find a mate who exceeded their expectations. In this chapter a misunderstanding about unachieved sexual connection between Hayden Carrington and Kitty is resolved. Chapter 3 Kitty flopped on her bed, kicked off her shoes and swore in frustration. Angry at Hayden's odd behavior and feeling dumped, Kitty wondered what she'd done wrong. After four or was it five double vodkas on ice she was virtually there for the plucking. Then the oaf yawned and said he was ready for bed. At that Kitty was on her feet in a flash wondering whether it would be her place or his. The oaf drove her to her apartment doors, kissed her deliciously, pinched her ass and said he'd have her called. He then drove off with a couple of horn bleeps, leaving her waving in bewilderment. "Ha, I'm too old for him," she hic-cupped. He's hooked into eighteen to twenty-year-olds." Kitty patted kitty and said, "Sorry darling, some other time. I must have overwhelmed him." She couldn't think what else it could be. "Oh yes," she snarled. "He's an asshole Carrington and no way will he stuff his thingy into a Carlisle-Bowden. She sniffed and began to weep in frustration, not believing what she'd just said. The only asshole was on her bed. Thinking about what on earth he'd meant when he'd said he'd have her called she fell asleep. Next morning Kitty was about to leave for social tennis with three girlfriends and then go on to lunch with then when her phone went. "It's Mrs Wilson of Carrington Mansion calling Miss Carlisle." Kitty wondered sourly in proper etiquette usage should not that have been expressed, 'Miss Carlisle, it's Mrs Wilson of Carrington Mansion calling'. "Good morning Mrs Wilson. I can see the flag is up and guess that means a Carrington of significance is in residence." "You are quite correct. Lord Hayden Carrington asks would you kindly join him for buffet lunch at 1:00 tomorrow at the summer house overlooking the lake." Kitty fought against being rebellious and saying she had a more pressing engagement. "Yes, I will be there thank you." "Miss Carlisle. On such occasions it is customary..." "It is customary that I choose what I wear Mrs Wilson." "As you wish Miss Carlisle. The weather forecast remains very favorable. Goodbye." What a cold and mechanical woman, stuffy to the core. Thank God the British were unable to hold on to America, Kitty thought and then wondered why she was being so bitchy. Oh yes, her dismay at not receiving a treat last night from his lordship. She urged, discipline, discipline Kitty. Let it go; it's not that important. Kitty wondered if Hayden was entitled to the courtesy title of lord now that his father had passed away and the older son who had two sons had inherited the dukedom. That would make Hayden removed further from the ultimate title. Kitty walked across to the mansion at 1:15 dressed in a trendy pink open lace top with matching bra and a matching pink linen pleated skirt mid-thigh in length. She wore white sandals and a floppy white hat. A guy dressed in all white including a bow tie came forward to the side gate in the security fence to let her in. Confirming she was Miss Carlisle the employee led her towards the open-sided summerhouse where a number of people were socializing. Kitty had not been aware other people had been invited so began thinking tentatively perhaps she ought to have listened to decorum-driven Mrs Wilson. Button up girl, don't be subordinate. Then Kitty saw the tennis racquets and realized it was a tennis party -- they were all 30-somethings and everyone but her was dressed in white. Kitty turned to her escort and asked him his name. Pointing to her apartment block Kitty said, "Giles, here's twenty bucks. Kindly take this card and these keys. The card gets you into the basement car lot and these keys unlock the trunk of a blue Chrysler Crossfire Coupe where you'll retrieve my tennis racquet and tennis shoes. Please bring them to me and leave the sweaty panties, bra, shorts and top in the heap untouched. Okay?" "Understood Miss Carlisle." "Brilliant Giles and thank you." A thin-lipped woman directing kitchen staff saw her and approached. Kitty braced for a I-told-you-so but the woman said with a smile, "Welcome Miss Carlisle. I'm Mrs Wilson. We have access to several sizes of women's tennis shoes including mine and you may use my racquet." "Giles is galloping over to retrieve mine Mrs Wilson. It's so lovely to meet you. Please call me Kitty if you consider that appropriate." "Thank you Kitty. Most of these folk are regulars. I'll commence introductions." But there was no need. Hayden yelled "Kitty!" He vaulted the summerhouse railing and bounded over. The chatter behind him lowered and as he swept Kitty into his arms and kissed her rather passionately the chatter died completely. Catching her breath Kitty noticed Mrs Wilson's face was a picture of neutrality and then she almost had her arm pulled off as Hayden yanked her along calling out, "Everyone this is my dear friend Kitty Carlisle. Please begin lunch except for Carla and Ben who'll start the tournament playing Kitty and me. Kitty heard a light cough behind her. She turned and Giles handed across her shoes and racquet. "Ah, look at the stringing on this racquet guys," Hayden yelled, looking at Kitty's racquet. A pro-woman's set-up." That piece of bullshit seemed to unnerve the other women and they and several of the guys double-faulted whenever facing Kitty. Hayden and Kitty made the final but then lost to a club pro playing with his protégé who obviously as the day continued was the coach's romantic protégé as well. After tennis with champagne flowing, the group divided into pairs to race in the kayaks. Hayden won the men's division and Kitty won the women's division without really trying. Then some clown yelled that Hayden and Kitty should have a race-off to find the supreme champion. Hayden recklessly offered to give Kitty a 10-yard start over the 100-yard course. Some of the women yelled acceptance on Kitty's behalf. She won by eight yards. "Fuck me," yelled the red-faced host as he stepped on to the bank, amazed that he'd been zapped. Four half-drunk women rushed forward and pushed him into the lake. "Gentlemen don't used that word in front of ladies," censured one of those women and began laughing her head off and screaming in delight allowed the dripping Hayden to seize her and toss her in. After dinner when the last of the inebriated guests departed in cabs provided both ways as part of their generous host's invitation, Hayden cupped Kitty's left breast said he'd walk her home. "I'd invite you to stay the night but...but..." he faltered. "Oh come on Hayden. You're not afraid of Mrs Wilson are you?" Hayden shook his head and squared his shoulders. "Kitty, the truth is when I've had quite a lot to drink I become a d-disappointment to women." Kitty laughed and told Hayden that wasn't unique to him. "I personally know of several guys whose arousal is curbed by excessive consumption of alcohol, some of whom displayed huge embarrassment at being unable to get it up. "The answer is if you want to perform for a a consenting lady you must balance your liquor intake accordingly." "You mean you're not upset?" "No, of course not Hayden. However I must admit that I've rather over-imbibed myself. I think it best if I say goodnight now." Hayden said he'd escort her home but Kitty declined the offer and asked what he had planned for next day. "What day will that be?" "Sunday. God Hayden you ought to drink less." He said he had nothing planned and accepted Kitty's offer to be taken somewhere and to bring jeans and a jacket, sunhat and strong walking shoes. "Tramping?" "Just a little. Sleep tight Hayden," Kitty said, pushing a hand between the buttons of his white sports shirt to rub a hand across his nipples in the hope he'd wake in the morning remembering that and recall she was interested in having sex with him. * * * As the drapes were pulled open, spilling sunlight into the bedroom, Hayden groaned, "What time is it?" "Six-thirty." Hayden checked that his morning erection had appeared on schedule but his hand felt only a limp appendage. "No fucker gets up at this uncivilized time." "I do and so does Kitty who is waiting for your downstairs. So fuckers are we?" "Nanny, I'm sorry. Please forgive me for allowing my mouth to run away on me so uncouthly. I had no wish to offend you." "You're forgiven. That was tame compared with some of the things you come out with when you're drunk. I suggest you get a proper job like everyone else and drink less liquor." "Yes nanny." "I mean it Hayden. Now get into the shower and get down to attend to that lovely lady." "Lovely lady? That is rather up the scale of comment for you?" Mrs Wilson said Kitty was rather up market compared with the married sluts he usually ran with or the unmarried whores seeking notoriety or even marriage as a result of spending a night with his lordship. "So you like Kitty?" "I didn't say that. It's not my place to comment to you so personally." "Agreed, but you do and I welcome it and accept you see yourself as my surrogate mother." "That's enough Hayden. Shut that stupid mouth of yours." Mrs Wilson hurried around the room straightening things that didn't require straightening and left. Hayden grinned and left the bed, looking down a little sadly at his limp pal. "Don't worry, Kitty will get you rigid and back into action. By the time Hayden reached the bathroom his pal was stirring. Kitty had another coffee while Hayden stuffed down breakfast. He'd only touched his lips against Kitty's at the greeting because he knew his former nanny was behind him carrying in his omelet and didn't want to appear overly interested. Kitty and Hayden walked out of the mansion and he saw in surprise a battered brown pick-up. "The ranch?" "Yes." "I have riding boots here, I'll fetch them." Kitty said okay and asked was he one of those dominant guys who insisted on driving. "No, I'm a submissive guy who wants to ride beside you as you drive so I can concentrate on thinking about your pussy." Kitty felt her toes curl and her blood race. Returning to the pick-up Hayden noticed filled saddlebags in the cargo box so darted back inside to fetch a small box of chocolates and bottle of champagne. Mrs Wilson produced insulation bags to keep the chocolates and wine cool and as he reached the door Mrs Wilson called to him. He stopped and and she said, smiling, "Have a lovely day. She's right for you Hayden." He grinned and blew a kiss before racing off. He was not surprised that nanny had thought that; but he was amazed she'd told him that thought. Kitty and Hayden kept up a flow of easy conversation. She was such a good driver that he rode completely relaxed. Ten miles from the mansion he said he guessed they were still on former Carrington acres. "Yes, my ranch is five miles along the side road just up ahead." "I understand at the peak Carrington land was around a million acres." Kitty astounded him, saying in fact it was 1,137,450 acres. "My ranch is one ranch short of the eastern boundary of the original spread. At its peak Carrington Ranch covered the equivalent of 1770 square miles. That's about two-thirds the size of the State of Delaware today or somewhat bigger than the County of Hampshire in England where the Carringtons were based and from where the Duke of that time requested his second son Charles stay in America when preparing to end military service here." "You know that but was unaware of my existence?" Kitty grinned and noting the unsealed road up ahead was clear turned into it in a power drift, allowing the sliding vehicle to stabilize and come close to the roadside drain before she calmly resumed control with the steering wheel and accelerated back into a straight line without having attempted to brake as that could have resulted in them ending up in the drain. Hayden let go of the panic handle and the edge of his seat, saying nothing but looking impressed. "I haven't updated my knowledge of the Carringtons in the past ten years and most of that study related to the American Carringtons anyway." "Why?" "Because it's part of my history." Hayden said softly was it because of what the Carringtons did to Kitty's ancestors and was told not to go gooey-eyed on her. "The Carlisle-Bowdens were neither submissive nor saints. They sent a few Carringtons to early graves." No one was home at the ranch house. "I'd called late last night I was coming and bringing a friend. Bart said they had intended visiting their married daughter so I told him to go ahead. Linda came to the phone and said to make myself at home. She said Bart would corral a selection of horses." After coffee they drove out to the barn. The track was even worse than the dirt road in, rocky and pot-holed, making Hayden aware why Kitty kept the old pick-up to travel to the ranch. They looked at the horses. "Pick one." Hayden said he'd take the black, making Kitty laugh. "What?" Kitty said Bart would have assumed the friend she was bringing would be a guy. "He'd such a mean skunk. He knew a guy would automatically go for the biggest horse with the best-looking features and even brushed Max to add to the lure. Get on Maximilian Royal Savannah and he'll either toss you over the top railing or turn nasty and slam you into the post and pipe railings." "Er, perhaps that bay. It's a quarter horse isn't it?" "Sure is and a great pick." Kitty whistled and the bay trotted up to them. "Oh no, I can't. That's your horse." "Ah, a real brain lurks under that blondish thatch. You take her and give her a good workout. She's become a bit fat. I'll take the paint gelding." Kitty emerged from the tack room on the side of the barn with a rope. She stood only just balanced on top of a corral post and called "Yelda!" The bay walked over and stood parallel and Kitty dropped on to the quarter horse. She then guided Yelda with only her knees until they were alongside the paint and Kitty dropped the noose over its head and it followed quietly alongside. Without being asked Hayden opened the gate for them. * * * The couple, appearing ready to slip into lover's mode, rode out, with the saddlebags on Yelda. Hayden's was in the saddle from the pickup that had had some re-stitching done to it in the city. "Your father's saddle?" Kitty looked at him surprised and then immediately turned away. Hayden left her with her thoughts. "Anything in particular you'd like to see?" she asked. "Your favorite place, some cattle and your saddest place." Kitty already aware that he rode as well as anyone she knew, including herself, found it was her turn to be surprised. "W-why there?" "Because you told me about it." "But dad could have sold that ranch and purchased another." "Oh yeah?" Kitty lost her smile. "I'm never happy when I go there Hayden." Hayden said in that case Kitty could point him in the right direction and then tell him where to find her on his return. "Oh, this is so hopeless. Come on, I'll take you." They rode into a stream, stopping midway to allow their horses to drink and then the horses took them up a gentle rise and Kitty didn't need to point. The biggest tree in any direction was no more than two hundred yards away, right on the boundary line. "It's a big tree," Hayden said simply. "May I ride over?" "Sure, I'll come with you." Hayden dismounted and walked closer to the eastern white pine on which presumably the Carrington brood had strung up Kitty's paternal grandfather. Tears ran down Kitty's face as she watched Hayden remove his Stetson, clasp it to his chest and bow his head briefly. He then turned and called, "Walk the horses forward Kitty. We'll have lunch under the shade of this tree." She felt like yelling no but accepted he was doing the right thing, persuading her it was time to let go. "I'm coming," Kitty called and waited until Hayden turned to choose a picnic spot before wiping her cheeks. Yes, it was time to let go. She knew she couldn't have been willing to prepare for this without someone leading the way. Sipping wine they sat on a waterproof square, unworried that dry cow dung lay beneath the cover. The wine was finished and they were about to set out the food when Kitty found herself in Hayden's arms. They kissed and panted and as their tongues touched Kitty thought in panic, "God, he's going to fuck me under granddad's tree!" By the time Hayden was sucking on a breast he'd dug out and Kitty was wondering about unzipping him she thought perhaps her grandfather would have not thought unkindly about what his granddaughter was about to do. Perhaps he could have been rather uptight about it due to the religious teachings of those days that turned good people into pious people but not necessarily better people. She sighed. Although her grandfather had been murdered by being hanged from the tree above them he wasn't buried here. She reached for Hayden's zip and tugged it. After an awesome sixty-nine when Kitty had failed to stuff all of Hayden's not insignificant erection down her throat she flipped on to her back and holding out her legs wide, grasping them by each hand and gurgled in great happiness as she was plundered with great gusto, twice. They were lewd and crude but exactly right for a spring day under a tree and uncomfortable on hard ground. The gentle and loving encounters would take place in bedrooms she thought, feeling her body welling yet again and hearing Hayden's heavy breathing begin to rasp. Although she'd told him she was safe, for the second time he exploded over her belly and breasts. This time their behavior was gross and indulged in cum-swapping with Hayden at times dipping down and coming back up to her to add pussy juices. God, she thought, ready for a nap. She hadn't been this disgusting in years. Later when Hayden was behind the wheel, ready to drive off, Kitty remembered and wailed, "We didn't visit my favorite place or look at cattle." "Some other time," Hayden said. "By the way, who has that ranch on the other side of the tree?" "Clement Carrington's granddaughter Debra Smith and her husband. Clement died many years back." "Let's get rid of them. Kitty I want you to get me details of the property, stocking rates and if you can annual profit and loss figures and farm debt. The place looks rundown so perhaps they are sellers if the price is right." "They are because Debra had to buy out her sister as the property was left to both of them. For obviously reasons I rarely speak to them. I must say I have no knowledge they are interested in selling." "That's why I need to know their level of indebtedness. I can then work out an offer based on what reasonable-thinking people would want to have in their hand after paying off all debts and fees." "Both properties are large enough to be run by managers Hayden but don't expect big profits apart from very occasionally." "I won't over-expect and suggest you get a real estate agent you can trust and knows how to pitch the 'I have a possible interested buyer for your property' approach." As Hayden drove they off Kitty said she already had in mind a Realtor she would trust who specialized in ranch property. "I'll call him when I get home." They cuddled and kissed in the basement of the apartment building. As Kitty walked out with Hayden he said, "I'll call the mayor tomorrow and tell them I want to begin discussing the sale of my estate to the city. Although probate may take perhaps two years, the period for disputes of bequests has expired and those that were filed haven't challenged my inheritance." Carrington Mansion Ch. 03 "What's brought this on?" "My desire to be a rancher/portrait painter. I'm sick of traveling." "Be careful about buying a ranch Hayden. Many in-debt Americans have ranches no one wants to buy." "Okay, I hear you." "You know, I would think you cannot sell your inheritance until probate is granted and you've said that could be two years away. You may also have to pay heavy taxes and duties before you gain title to your inherited property." "Father paid heavily in fees for estate planning and to set aside huge funds to ease the tax burden on immediate family beneficiaries." "Well, that is a relief," Kitty said, "but you cannot count on a quick sale and certainly not quick release of sale proceeds should you find a buyer such as the council. Of course they could commit to a settlement date linked to the title to the property becoming available." "Damn." "Frustrating isn't it -- the property is yours but not actually yours until the legal wheels come to a conclusive ending. "It's a good time to purchase that ranch with cattle prices presently at a low but on-ranch costs rising. If you purchase it as a going concern I suggest you tack on running costs for two years to the purchase offer. I figure $3-$3.2 million sounds about right." Hayden gulped. "And remember as you don't yet hold title to the mansion and land that property is not available to you as collateral for a big bank loan through regular sources. You may interest a fringe lender who'd require a complex contract and with risk involved your interest rates would be loaded, making them punitive." "Shit." "Crap is a nicer word darling. I know you suddenly have captured this romantic notion of becoming a rancher and at the same time freeing me of direct connections to Clement Carrington by settling on that land. But Hayden, ranching is hard grind and you need to go through some sort of apprenticeship to learn about it. I really can't image you riding through the dust of drought to pull out mired cattle too weak to move out of diminishing water holes or pulling calves from snow drifts only to find one out of every two is dead or dying. It's not for you Hayden, believe me." Hayden eyed Kitty plaintively, probably like one of those dying calves she'd just talked about. "What should I do?" "Hayden, you're a grown man and..." "I wouldn't have asked unless I wanted to hear your opinion." "Go home and talk to you family and lawyers Hayden and get your head around everything so you see the track ahead and know what the obstacles are. It may be possible to work a deal allowing quicker release of a foreign owned property, particularly as you are a minor beneficiary." "I would be better off in Africa." "I know Hayden but that's running away." Hayden's head dropped and he said he realized that. It was just his frustration talking. "I'll take a flight home before the end of the week." Kitty bit her lip and then smiled. "In that case Hayden stay with me tonight. I'd welcome trying you out in bed." "Come to England with me." "Hayden!" "I know, you have a business to run. Look, come over and have a swim and then dinner and I'll some back with you and stay the night." They swam in the nude and Kitty didn't like that, not with Mrs Wilson probably peering out at them. Well, she couldn't see anyone peering and just when she got used to thinking 'what you don't see can't hurt you' and had relaxed enough for Hayden to begin fingering her when Mrs Wilson arrived, calling, "Well young folk, here are your cocktails." Kitty, who'd not wanted to get her hair wet, dove underwater and swam to the far end, coming out bursting for breath and with her back to the intruder. "Don't you worry about Mrs Wilson seeing you nude," Hayden whispered when swimming up to Kitty to cup her breasts. "She seen me many more times than I can remember. She came to us when I was born. We brought her back to England last year so her parents and two grandmothers could attend her sixtieth birthday. We were having trouble out here keeping quality senior staff so dad sent her out here with five juniors eight years ago just after he husband ran off on her. Because all the staff stayed on under her influence father promoted her from housemaid to house manager and dispersed with the management company that was running the property on contract. Mrs Wilson turned out to be an exceptionally good front line manager. She's smitten by you. Reckons you've just right for me." Unbearably embarrassment Kitty pushed Hayden away and sank to the bottom. She couldn't believe the rather frozen-faced Mrs Wilson would like her let alone approve of her. That night Hayden knew he had a tiger by the tail because Kitty was all over him and dealt with him bang for bang until he groaned enough, that Kitty had him legless. "I shall always remember you. God, you can fuck," he panted and slowly fell asleep. In the shower Kitty thought "I shall always remember you" had an air of finality about it. It translated to bye-bye Kitty's kitty. She was sad but not heartbroken. She'd not given him her heart because he'd not yet proven worthy of that. Sensible girl, she thought and switched her mind to other things. Kitty went to work, leaving Hayden asleep and a note he'd see on the way to the bathroom. In it Kitty wished Hayden a happy arrival back home and said he'd find his breakfast ready for cooking and he'd find the door out was self-locking. 'You were such lively company and I had a great time. XXXX.' All day Kitty waited for Hayden to call her or to burst through the door. But nothing. She shrugged and worked on late. Four days later at 3:00 Kitty's PA opened the door and said, "Mrs Wilson is not a client but says she's from Carrington Mansion and you know her personally." "Yes, I do. Please come in Mrs Wilson." Kitty called, hurrying around the desk to be in position to meet the unexpected visitor. Mrs Wilson smiled. She had a thick roll of paper under one arm and a paper parcel under the other. "Oh my goodness, I wouldn't have thought you'd dare. You are a most unusual young lady Kitty." Mrs Wilson of course was looking at the framed nude of a redhead on the wall behind kitty. "Please sit Mrs Wilson. Two coffees please Gina." Mrs Wilson handed Kitty the parcel and placed the roll on the desk. Kitty knew it was a painting and thought it would be a crayon sketch of her again, this time with black hair. Unwrapping the artwork Kitty looked at it, mouth open in shock and her hands shook the painting. "What is it?" Gina asked, arriving from the alcove with coffee. "Ohmigod -- it's wonderful." Kitty nodded in agreement with Gina. "On Sunday night when Lord Carrington stayed with you Kitty he awoke and saw you on you back, head turned, moonlight shinning on to the bed and giving you an eerie glow. He found your door access card and raced home and returned with his digital camera and took a number of photographs. For the next two days and three nights he painted you and sent me out to choose the frame. He finished it at 3:00 this morning and left at 7:00 to catch his flight to New York and then on to Gatwick. Lord Carrington says it's probably his best ever and if you wish to sell it find an agent in New York and it could fetch well in excess of $10,000. He says he's captured your brilliant essence over-laid and softened by translucence of moon glow." "I am truly humbled Mrs Wilson, it is a very beautiful painting. He's such an excellent painter, rather brilliant." Gina added, "Very brilliant." "May I take it and show it to the others Kitty?" Gina asked. "I'll try to keep a finger lightly over you-know-where." "No Gina, they see it as the artist intended to be seen and please don't allow anyone to touch it. The paint won't be completely dry yet but in transit has been protected by the frame." When Gina had left Kitty said, "From what you've told me Hayden must have been a wreck when he left, working all those hours and I suspect with few breaks." "He looked rather tired when he arrived home on Monday morning," Mrs Wilson said dryly. "He worked as if he were possessed. He told me he'd been privileged to have sighted a goddess." "Well, whatever. I assure you I didn't give him any illegal substances. Do you ride Mrs Wilson?" "Yes, it goes with my duties." Kitty invited Mrs Wilson to the ranch on Saturday and after the third refusal Mrs Wilson accepted. She looked relieved when Kitty said it was simply a courtesy invitation, not an American threat to the accepted structure of British gentry. "You have a wild streak just like my Hayden, I mean Lord Hayden," Mrs Wilson said, turning a little white. "What was that -- I didn't catch what you said?" Kitty winked. They finalized details about Saturday and as Mrs Wilson stood she pointed to the roll of paper. "They are the floor plans of the mansion and plan of the grounds Kitty. Lord Hayden requested I hand them to you for you to suggest possible changes to the mansion and grounds if he retains the property. I'm to say you should be aware that the land is zoned open space excluding the permanently fenced area around the mansion including the entrance driveway." "I wonder why he wants such involvement from me?" "I wonder," Mrs Wilson replied a little sarcastically. "Good afternoon Kitty." To Be Continued Carrington Mansion Ch. 04 An Englishman's property inheritance in Midwest America leads to romance between a womanizing son of a recently deceased Duke and a beautiful but feisty attorney. Both harbor an unfulfilled desire to find a mate who exceeded their expectations. In this chapter Kitty's character-forming youth is detailed and Hayden begins thinking about her beyond her vulva. Chapter 4 Annoyed at the arrogance of Hayden, Kitty pounded seven miles of sidewalk that evening trying to get her head around him. Just because she'd allowed him to shaft her a few times he had taken upon himself to paint her nude, without her consent, and had now forward the plans of his property to suggests alterations and presumably even come up with change of use of the residence. Why, because he'd assumed she was going to marry him or at least live with him. Kitty kicked a street pole and hobbled off to nearby low wall to sit to rub her toes. That fool had made her hurt herself. Paintings can take weeks and even months and months to complete, she fumed. Hayden the humper and painter threw her likeness on to canvas in two days and two and a half nights, less breaks. She knew it looked good but what does he take her for – the artist's dummy? He didn't have a real job and wandered around and was great at chatting but after fifteen minutes ran out of steam. Unless talking about himself he hadn't much to say and either yawned, or grabbed a breast or would say let's go somewhere and she'd say where and he'd say he didn't know. Marry him? Kitty winced, as she hobbled off on her sore foot. No way! He'd probably been bottle fed until he was eight and predictably wanted a woman as a bedmate under the guise of settling down to be his nanny to take him through the remainder of his life. He was talking crap when saying that hastily composed portrait of her would fetch ten grand. Five, perhaps but dealers who looked also for technical excellent would grin and say, "Ten grand? No way." However, being so dismissive made Kitty feel a little uneasy. Had she not known the artist and not recognized his model, just looking at the work critically, having studied art, what would have been her judgment? "Oh God, I know what I would have said: Ten grand is the steal of the century." "I can't stand this, I need a second informed opinion. Perhaps he's better than even he or his present agent thinks?" Next morning on the way to work Kitty went to the small rooftop apartment she leased and used as her studio. She wrapped two of her better landscape paintings and took them to work. Mid-morning she asked the gallery manager Peggy Blewitt if she could call around for Peggy, as a friend, to appraise three artworks for her. Peggy looked at the three works and said, "The nude is you." "Yes." "Look, do you mind if I call in a second opinion? Our technical director is away but our framer Hugo although elderly is a former art school tutor and is a magazine's art critic." Ten minutes later Peggy returned to the table and finished her coffee. "I saw your signature on the landscapes and tried to remain neutral. Hugo and I say their price range in an informed market is $500 to $700. You technique is good but needs developing and you have a fine eye. As to 'Miss Nude' our advice to take it to New York. All we can say is perhaps $30,000 and probably more if a collector of nudes looking for something different competes for it at auction." "Ohmigod." "Listen Kitty, resist the urge to sell it. Hugo says he knows of the artist and has read critiques of his work in international art magazines. Hugo says if Hayden Carrington used this painting as his model and took his time over a month or more, the finished work could possible fetch in excess of $100,000 grand at international auction." "Ohmigod, then he does have a real career," "Excuse me?" "Oh, just my thinking running away on me." Peggy placed her hand on Kitty's arm. "Listen darling, forgive me for being so personal but has Lord Hayden been shafting you?" Kitty nodded. "Good girl. So you are in the process of reeling him in. Rumor about town is he owns the mansion lock, stock and barrel. What can you tell me?" "Nothing." "Oh, I forget. You're an attorney. Well, you said you'd get me a new gallery darling so allow me to tell you this. Mick my husband as you know is a photographer. Well the last time he was up flying for a client I had him shots of Carrington Mansion. I then showed them to my brother who said he knows the structure as he passed most days and watched it being built. "My brother agrees the front rooms would be ideal for a gallery, as they have vaulted ceilings. The air-con system would require extensive upgrading and humidity control added and most of the windows covered in. There's space on the western boundary for a large extension for storage and workrooms. Firewalls would be constructed leaving the rear half of the house including the kitchen and some bedrooms intact. An extension could then be built over the swimming pool for new living rooms. The present exposed sides of the pool could be glassed in, making it a year-round pool instead of its present three to four months of usage. In the area left free beyond the pool. I suggest an art studio go there." "For whom?" "The owner of that part of the land after selling off the front part in a legal subdivision to the council for its civic art gallery. As Hugo says, your Mr Carrington will not become a professional artist of real caliber until he settles down and gives up producing quick-fire paintings of native beauties in exotic locations or offering to paint the portraits of lovely wealthy women during his numerous vacations in return for money and you know what." Kitty groaned. "He'd die young if his nomad life goes and he's expected to limit himself to just one woman." "Kitty, do you know that for fact? I ask you, don't you think the guy's bored out of his mind fucking one woman, painting her, and on and on it goes? He probably doesn't even know what a relationship in depth is, or hasn't joined a club since his university days, read the paper in the morning with his feet up instead of no paper and his dick up..." The women burst into laughter. Kitty said, "You're a bit older than me Peggy with heaps more experience. It's worth listening to what you say." "Well listen to this darling. With his father gone Hayden is probably feeling a little vulnerable these days and has looked at his life in retrospect and found that didn't take long because little of worth was there to review. And he's probably thinking about children – his kids. Who knows, you may be in the possible top ten or perhaps even the top three he'd like to have for their mama. He could really go for the conversion of his mansion – I know it's his because that explains his recent visit. Someone would need to sell him the idea of building over the pool but the idea of a studio just beyond it may provide the push needed. If he arrives soon with the decision to stay here permanently he's perfectly placed for you to grab him." Kitty's eyes flickered and she pouted beautifully. "But I've been thinking he's not worthy of me, getting it off with any female in sight who meets minimum specifications." "Are you mad? Probably his only fault is failing to work out how long to take when his father ordered him out of the castle, manor house or housing estate, wherever the family resides in England and go forth and sow his wild oats. I ask you, is he any good at it?" "I-I, well to tell you the truth...I-I...oh yeah, I'm an attorney!" That evening in bed, Kitty thought about one thing Peggy had said: "Are you mad?" Her mother, attempting to raise Kitty as a lady, had often folded in failure, calling her rebellious young daughter a mad, hotheaded little bitch. Kitty would kiss her mom back from tears and attempt to console her and say, "Don't worry mom, even the mad have fun." Then she would saddle the sorrel she had then and canter off, feeling aroused, and ride for an hour or two shooting varmints. She'd arrive back home feeling she'd achieved something and it would proceed like clockwork: Her father, eyes sad, would have his belt in his hand and would say he was sorry to do it but her mother insisted that he try to belt out the resistance in the rebellious brat. During that night, when her mother was asleep, her father would come to Kitty's bedroom and rub liniment on the welts on the back of her legs and without being asked would pull over a chair and in a low voice would tell Kitty some of the hundred or so stories about the atrocities and the stupidly hurtful things the two feuding families – the Carringtons and the Carlisle-Bowdens – had done to one another simply because after time it became what those families did. "You are a hot-headed little bitch," he'd say, kissing her when leaving. "You've got to promise you'll never do harm to a Carrington. God the last three generations of our family tried so determinedly to stop this mindless vendetta and look where that got them." "I promise daddy. I'll also promise if I ever find the one half-decent Carrington in this world I'll try to make a good man out of him." One night when she'd said repeated that bravado her father asked how? Although just sixteen, Kitty said, "With my mind and body daddy, that's how." The room had been in near darkness and her father moved forward and ruffled her hair. She couldn't see it but could feel his smile as he said half-choked, "Mad? That's brilliant Kitty but for goodness sakes don't mention that to your mom." Kitty thought about her graduation from college. Mom had called her parents in from California and had told Kitty they were coming. "Why?" "Because although I claim you are mad and rebellious they cannot believe you are graduating with distinction, that's why. Their other grandchildren are without bad traits and they think it's time for upping Kitty to toe the line." "That's crazy talk mom and you know it. What the fuck can they do," Kitty remembered sneering. Her devout church-going mother turned purple and went to smack Kitty across the face but Kitty caught her hand and snarled, "If you ever attempt to hit me again mother I'll break your arm." Kitty then went out and saddled Goldie the stallion she had then and shot varmints dead, often while Goldie was in gentle canter, until running out of ammunition. She returned home expecting her father would be waiting for her, his belt in his hand and was not disappointed. "This is going to hurt me more than it will hurt you Kitty," her father began in his customary patter. "Dad, wallop me with that strap and I'll never speak to you again." "Chandler, do it!" her mother commanded. Kitty eyed her father defiantly. He dropped the belt and holding up his trousers walked away mumbling, "My daughter means too much to me to lose her." On the morning of graduation Kitty's grandmother wept, "Oh mad Kitty, use this money wisely to build yourself a professional career as no one will ever marry you because your mother says the guys capable of standing up to you end up being afraid of you, finding you too competitive." How much money? Kitty opened the envelope and found a check for $20,000, a considerable amount of money in those days. "This money must only be used on your education Kitty, her grandmother said firmly. We'd like you to become an attorney like your grandfather." "Okay," Kitty said brightly but remembered her head being in turmoil. "I'll study law but don't expect that grind to break my spirit." Grandfather Luke hugged Kitty and wept. Her father wasn't dry-eyed either and her mother and grandmother just hugged one another and stared at her. Both grandparents were dead when Kitty graduated in art and law, again with distinction. Her mother, who was dying from the ravages of cancer, attended the graduation ceremonies with pride and her father did a lot of foot shuffling and every time Kitty looked at him his chest puffed out. After her mother's death Kitty continued living on the ranch with her father until his fatal accident when thrown from a horse. Kitty rubbed away tears. She cried loudly, "Well, I've found a half-decent Carrington, go get him girl." Padding out to the kitchen Kitty made coffee and phoned Hayden. "God, Kitty – have you any idea what time it is? But all the same hi, it's lovely to hear your voice." "No, time's escaped me tonight. Are you alone?" There was a pause. "Then is she asleep?" "Yes, deeply, mainly from the affects of alcohol. You know since being with you I think I'm becoming better at it after a few drinks." "Good for you. I want you to come back here Hayden as soon as you have settled your affairs. I mean I want you back here permanently. It's time you settled down and began painting to reach your ultimate potential. You need to have children and I'll bear them and mother them for you." "God Kitty, what's brought this on?" "It was triggered by something Peggy said." "Peggy your art gallery friend?" "Yes, and I returned home and thought about being raised by my parents – I've not told you this but my mother rather disliked me but she eventually got me on track by calling on her loaded parents to put me through college and law school. I'm still a bit crazy Hayden, that's why most of my clients are ranchers; they understand that a hot-headed horse is invariably a good 'un and ranchers tend to think people in the city are weak-kneed and without values but they guess I have values because I'm also a rancher, or at least I own one. Then I began thinking about you and accepted I'm the one capable of doing what you need – to be corralled but with the fence low enough for you to jump when you feel your wild side calling." Hayden spluttered, "My wild side, how do you know about that?" Kitty giggled. "Just think about your track record Hayden and remember I delved into your past looking for evidence that you are half-decent." "Half-decent what?" "Never mind Hayden. I've said my piece. Go back to sleep and give your sweetie a right royal rodgering at dawn. I think that's how the English express it." "Kitty, I've never said anything to you about marriage." "True, and have I ever mentioned it to you, not even just a few minutes ago. All I said was I was prepared to bear you children and rear them. It's a charitable offer so think about it Hayden. Oh, one last thing. I feel my legs have straightened again just when I was getting used to being a little bandy. Know what I mean? Goodnight." Hayden called 'Wait!" but Kitty had cut the call. On the way to bed Kitty patted kitty and said, "I bet you miss him too darling. I figure he'll be back to us soon." The next day Peggy invited Kitty to lunch to meet her brother. Peggy revealed he was an architect and would give Kitty an hour to explain her requirements. Kitty handed over the plans to Randy Kincaid (Kitty wondered if Peggy was attracted to her brother-in-law because of his name or did the connection go deeper than that). She outlined the proposal that Peggy had suggested and said she'd traced an outline of it over the plan of the existing structure. "I'd like you to sketch finished profiles Randy and sketch a design of an artist's studio that would make a painter's mouth water – it must be flexible, with large areas that open to the elements and admit moonlight and yet with shutters to shield his work area from invasive sunlight when required. You and your people do this without being paid a cent Randy and I want it completed in fourteen days from tomorrow." "You have to be joking..." Randy looked at Peggy when she said in a sultry voice, "Do this for me Randy." Kitty sensed he was weakening. "Fourteen days max Randy and if the proposal is accepted you'll be appointed architect and that contract will be non-negotiable when the council purchases that section of the property but it will, of course, but would want to control design and specifications for the gallery." Randy said in disbelief, "The council hasn't approved this project in principle?" "The council doesn't know anything about it yet and I want it left that way. Do you understand?" "Yes but..." "If you require a sweetener you can sleep with me for a couple of nights Randy." Randy and Peggy looked horrified. "Really, Kitty I must insist we keep our relationship on a professional basis," Randy pontificated. "The offer was sincere Randy. I really wasn't out to hurl you into adultery. My real motive was to indicate my deep commitment but I'm prepared to do anything it takes to push this project through." "So if his Lordship says no go, I'm out of pocket." "I'm afraid so Randy but you know how it goes. Peggy help me out here." Peggy told Randy that although Kitty could be feisty and unpredictable she was straight as an arrow. "She'll do anything it takes to get this project through because it's aimed at winning over her man and securing a future with him." "What, you mean his Lordship doesn't know about this?" Peggy told the dismayed architect. "Minor detail darling. Just leave the worrying to Kitty and just think, if she succeeds with some push from me, you will have been responsible for designing my new workplace." The look that passed between those two informed Kitty her suspicion was correct about them having a bit on the side. Randy said he'd drop everything for the next five days and put most of his team on to it. "Five working days. That's the limit Kitty." "Christ Randy, I only want draft drawings more or less to scale, not working drawings. I'm relieved you've decided not to have sex with me. The thought of you taking half the night to decide which leg to throw over would have sent me asleep." As they laughed Randy said, "You're a real character Kitty, too much heaving flesh and kick-ass spirit for me to handle. Give me your card and I'll call you when we're ready to show you what we've done." "Fine. Peggy has a big interest in this as well. Mind if I bring her?" "Of course not." * * * In Hampshire, England, the acceding 12th Duke of Beaulieu (waiting for the new letter of patent of title to be approved and gazetted) and his two brothers and sister rode over the sprawling family estate for the last time together. Anne was leaving to return home to her family in Johannesburg in the morning. Hayden had almost finished having his possession packed to go by container ship to America and then railed to Mornington; he'd decided to settle in America permanently, for the time being in Mornington. Most of the dukedom was being sold, the heir to the title deciding to take that course on the advice of lawyers and tax advisers to meet the crippling death duties and inheritance taxes. Almost priceless paintings and family heirlooms would also go the same way with some already having a registered list of buyers. After three weeks of haggling in challenging some of the assessments for tax and duty purposes, the brothers had agreed the incoming duke Rex take half of the cash their father had set aside for payment of taxes on their personal inheritance, with Anthony and Hayden splitting the remainder. Hayden was advised by the consultants he'd have approximately £301,000 left over of his share of the cash after paying his inheritance tax on his property in America. Banging Judith (Lady Raymond Spiers) in bed that night – one of several married and unmarried daughters of peers plus a few commoners during the month Hayden had been in England who had gleefully gone to Hayden's bed to confirm his reputation – Hayden made a mental note to call Kitty. His pal thickened in Judith as he thought of the cute way Kitty referred to hers as kitty. But he fell asleep and in the morning forgot to call. They'd not talked for seven or eight days. Carrington Mansion Ch. 04 Hayden remembered to call her two days later when he arrived late at Gatwick to fly to New York. He was tired and a little grumpy from his farewell party and in the rush to the airport so decided to leave it. In New York he found he was in time for an earlier feeder flight so took that and then decided to arrive at Kitty's office as a surprise. The receptionist informed Hayden Kitty was in Chicago at a law conference so went to the mansion feeling very grumpy and wondering why had he returned to this dump called by the stupid name of Mornington-on-Test. He nodded testily in agreement when recalling his brother's scandalous comment on TV about the city, calling it a poxy place bereft of culture. "Yo, how perceptive big brother." The cabbie looked in his rear-vision mirror. "Just quoting what someone once said about this city," Hayden said, "but don't ask me to repeat it as you'll think I'm rude." "Rude or crazy," Hayden heard the cabbie mutter so gave him a miserable tip for the short ride from Kitty's office and for a moment thought the asshole was going to spit on him. Hayden stomped his way inside. "Nanny, I'm home," he called and was astonished when Mrs Wilson rushed into the home and burst into tears and said, "Oh, you're home. Kitty has been worried sick not hearing from you, worried that something bad might have happened. I tried to comfort her saying you were contemptuous of people who worried about you like me but that only made her cry." "Well, I...I guess...oh hell. Sorry I didn't call you nanny." Mrs Wilson ran from the room, a hand over her mouth, leaving Hayden waving his arms wondering why couldn't a guy go away for a few days and be spared of this fuss? Well okay, perhaps it was a month." In his dressing room Hayden unlocked the big fire-proof cabinet that contained some of his best paintings he'd retained, took the one of the smallest paintings he'd ever done – it measured in its frame only ten and a half inches by thirteen inches. He'd painted from a photograph he'd taken on the night Kitty was on the bed covered in moon glow. It was Kitty's kitty, gaping. Hayden had earlier been aware that Kitty's kitty was the most attractive vulva he'd ever seen, not that any of them were really attractive. He breathed deeply as if thinking about a dear friend he'd not seen for quite some time. A month and two and a half days actually. "Oh, you little darling," he muttered softly and felt his pal stir. Hayden preferred his women to be hot flesh and writhing in delight in front of him, but with Kitty in Chicago this was an acceptable substitute but he wished he also had the missing pieces including her dear face. Her dear face, dear face? That thought had almost stunned Hayden, knowing he'd never thought about any female in his life quite like that. God, was he in love? He bit his lip thinking if he were, then he was performing more like an asshole than a lover. He went downstairs to fetch matches from the kitchen to burn that small canvas: if one loved a woman one would not enshrine her pussy for one's exclusive viewing, would one? He was unsure of the answer but continued on down to fetch matches. Mrs Wilson, looking as cheerful that she ever got, handed him a beer and asked her to accompany him into the TV room. Whatever for? Hayden wondered. They never watched TV together. "Enjoy," Mrs Wilson said, closing the door behind him. Matches forgotten, beer as yet untouched, Hayden could see the projector was set-up and wondered why. He sat down and thought wickedly perhaps Kitty had had her vulva photographed for him. The program was set on auto and the first slide showed the mansion as viewed from Pioneer Avenue. Was this a joke? The next slide replicated the same shot as a rendered drawing – computerized and probably produced on CAD. What was this? The only changes on the next slide were the boundary wall now carried a sign in what appeared to be heavy stainless steel standing proud and proclaiming, 'Carrington Memorial Art Center' and an illuminated sign topping a 20ft pole behind the corner boundary wall stated, 'Open'. Presumably that would change at the flick of a switch to 'Closed'. Hayden sat forward on the front of his lounge chair and gulped down a beer, eyes not leaving the screen. Ten minutes later he returned to the kitchen and Mrs Wilson looked at him expectedly. "Jesus." She both frowned and smiled. He urged, "Say something." "This project has been driven by Kitty who at the other end of her has quite a brain. Hatched by her art manger friend Peggy Blewitt, conceptualized by Kitty and developed by architect Mr Randy Kincaid and his team as a favor and on the promise Mr Kincaid is hired if you decide to proceed from here, either this scheme or something more to your liking." "I like it." "Very good." "My studio. Who came up with that idea?" "Who do you think?" Without hesitation Hayden said, "That reeks of Kitty." Mrs Wilson said, "Forgive me for being so foul-mouth but this is how Kitty explained it to me: 'If we are to get Hayden behind this project we must grab him by the balls. I told Randy the only way to do that and to give footloose Hayden a studio that will fit him erotically, better than the best pussy he's ever visited'." "Nanny, coming from you that's disgusting. But it sounds classic Kitty." "She schooled me until I was word perfect, saying such an explanation would pierce you to the core. The key was for me to deliver those words." To be Continued Carrington Mansion Ch. 05 An Englishman's property inheritance in Midwest America leads to romance between a womanizing son of a recently deceased Duke and a beautiful but feisty attorney. Both harbor an unfulfilled desire to find a mate who exceeded their expectations. In this final chapter Kitty delivers everything to Hayden and he performs as the stallion she desires after she agrees to his proposal. Chapter 5 Returning from Chicago next day, Kitty waited outside the airport and watched the 1976 ex-Army Land Rover still painted in its original NATO green and with the spare tire across the hood, approach. She appeared surprised when identifying the driver. "Hello and welcome back from England," Kitty called brightly and received a grunt in response. As Hayden stepped from the vehicle Kitty kissed him lightly on the cheek and spun out of his closing embrace. She climbed into the front passenger seat, leaving Hayden to load her two carry bags and long clothing bag and to return the trolley. A little unsure of himself and a little tongue-tied, Hayden climbed in to the vehicle and asked, "A rewarding conference?" "Yes, an interesting conference thank you. I was surprised to see you drive up. Mrs Wilson said she would collect me." "Ah, you're disappointed?" He was ignored. "You're ignoring me," he accused. "We have spoken four times in a month Hayden. What else did you expect? I felt very ignored, especially since I made three of those calls." "Um sorry. I was busy." "Aren't we all?" Hayden turned sullen. "My brothers, sister and I were up to our necks meeting with advisers. The Government seeks almost sixty million pounds from the estate and main beneficiaries." Instead of sympathy he received a shock. "That's the trouble being connected to real wealth isn't it?" The cold bitch, he thought, just as Kitty really put in the knife. "You still had time to get between a pair of different thighs every night I suppose?" "Not every night," he muttered, scandalized, and just managed avoiding running into the back of a vehicle stopping for a red light. "Should I drive?" Hayden erupted. "Christ, what the fuck's wrong with you?" Kitty stared ahead and spoke calmly. "For starters I expected Mrs Wilson to pick me up, not you. For a month you have ignored me. I half expected a call almost every night because I knew helping to wind up an estate was not the best job in the world and I wanted to talk to you, to encourage you to keep calm and to then go off to appease one of your harlots although perhaps they were only friends." He went to defend himself but she was already tightening the noose. "I arranged with my bank to act as guarantor in case you arrived back with the promise of enough money to at least put a deposit on the ranch next to mine if you wished to proceed with that venture. At the same time I arranged to mortgage myself to the hilt to provide you with cheap loan money should you require it. I have been advised the price negotiating range for that ranch probably falls between the $2.7-$3.2 million range. I have also done some work on a possible development of your estate here. So really, there's nothing wrong with me beyond feeling I have done quite a lot on your behalf, as a friend, but am rather pissed that I have been neglected." "Sorry, I'm very sorry?" Hayden began. They were almost at Kitty's apartment. "Look, I've seen the presentation." "Good for you." Astonished, Hayden asked, "Don't you want to hear my reaction?" "Now's not a good time Hayden. Just drop me off here and..." "No, I'm delivering you to the door. I'll come up and make coffee." Kitty said coldly that was not a good idea. She wanted to shower and be at her office by 1:45 for an important client. Hayden raced to the back of the vehicle and had the two bags out and the dress carrybag back to Kitty who now appeared a little less aggressive. He asked politely, "May I see you tonight?" "Well, I have to eat somewhere. You may join me if you wish. I'll attempt to call you at 7:00 from the office." "No, I'll be at the office at 7:00." "Very well, but don't feel you have to put yourself out." "Kitty!" "Goodbye Hayden. Thank you for the ride." * * * In the shower Kitty smiled. She'd really given it to the vagina-focused jerk who thought little about anyone else. She'd read about English twits raised by nannies in novels but until now had only half-believed it. That guy needed a couple of dabs on his ass with a steel toe-capped boot to make him sit up and say in awe, "Hello world, hello Kitty. God you're gorgeous" and, making no mention of her kitty, would then lick her toes in adoration. Or something like that. Some nine hours later Mr Toad was almost ramming Kitty through her headboard and she was screaming into a huge ejaculation, one of her best ever. She'd forgiven him, of course, when he arrived at her office with a dozen red roses and later showing her an engagement ring over dinner. She thanked him warmly but told him to take the ring back to the jewelry to be put in storage for a month to give them both time to talk about their future, to determine that they did have a future together. "I'll buy a bigger and more expensive one." "No, I want that one, your first choice. Or did you have it on hand, rejected from some other woman?" "Kitty, for fuck sake. I purchased it on approval this afternoon, having no idea of ring size or taste." "Okay, I believe you. Ask them to put it on ice and if an engagement is on we'll go in for a fitting one month from today." Attempting to hide some of his massive disappointment, Hayden said, "Don't you like me enough to marry me?" "I probably do but we need to talk. During the past month you've treated me like an asshole. Proposing to me this evening doesn't fix that." Hayden said he accepted her terms and that they ought to do more things together. "Like what?" "Well for starters, more socializing such as spending more time in bed together more often." "Oh yes." Hayden's brow furrowed and he managed, "Kayaking, swimming, tennis, going out with other people..." "Going out with other people really interests me." Hayden picked up the pace and added going to the movies, going away for weekends, riding at the ranch, discussing what he should do with his inheritance that included almost $590,000 in cash as well as the debt-free mansion property and..." "Okay Hayden. All that sounds convincing that you intend to devote some time to our relationship. Are you coming?" "Where?" Hayden asked, looking at their half-eaten meals. "Hayden," Kitty said patiently. "I have no wish to over-encourage you but I am very much aware that it's been a full month since I've had sex." "Right, I'm coming," Hayden then growled tigerishly, scraping his chair back. Kitty and Hayden chose to ignore the supressed laughter of people around them who'd overheard Kitty's declaration and his rather keen response. Aware that Kitty's eruption was only just subsidizing, Hayden asked, "Ready to continue?" "A little respite would be welcomed," Kitty panted. "Tell me and this is an open question and not directly related to me for obvious reasons. When you do marry where would you prefer the wedding to take place -- back in Hampshire?" "When you accept my proposal I'd like to marry here. I think my life in England is behind me now." "Hayden, please..." "It's going to happen Kitty so get used to it." "I'm still not sure about you Hayden." "You will be well inside a month, mark my words." "Apart from sex and quality dining we don't seem to have much in common." "What about art?" Kitty frowned. "What about it?" "I'm interested in bringing you on, just as I have to work on my own development." "But you haven't seen any of my work?" Hayden propped his chin with his bent arm and played with Kitty's nearest nipple with his free hand. "What about a section of our rose garden that you gave Mrs Wilson the other day, the two scenes on your ranch hanging in your office and the white swans on Meyer Park on the other side of the city hanging in the foyer of this building?" "Well, how was I to know..." "And the cemetery scene of the graves of two of your grandparents, your parents and your brother hanging in your dressing room?" "You have prowled around in my dressing room?" "I recall the only way to this bathroom is through your dressing room." "Oh yeah." Hayden said there was something else Kitty needed to get her head around. "I've inherited my courtesy title from my father through to my death when it dies with me. When we go to England, perhaps on our honeymoon, people will use your title. You'll be loosely known within close circles as Kitty or Lady Kitty and formerly you will be addressed as Lady Hayden Carrington." "Yes I know. It would be final victory for the Carringtons over the Carlisle-Bowdens." "You know? How could you possible know that?" Kitty's eyes narrowed. "In your absence and with you ignoring me I spend some time with Mrs Wilson. We twice went riding at the ranch. She told me many things, including your two half-brothers as young children spent months with their ears taped to their heads to train their ear lobes to stay closer to their skulls but you being your sweet mother's only offspring had such gorgeous ears and we agreed you still do." Hayden's face darkened. "And I suppose she told you about me being potty trained?" "Yes, actually Mrs Wilson did. She said you were much faster in the transition out of diapers, er nappies she called them, than your half-brothers and even your half-sister whom everyone thought was so clever." "God, you women are unbelievable." "Oh, Mrs Wilson was so informative. She told me how she inveigled her niece to teach you about sex and said given time she probably could recite the names of every girlfriend you've ever had until she was send out here by the Duke -- almost 200 of them she said." "Mrs Bloody Wilson," Hayden growled. "Hayden, please. She's your nanny." * * * Two weeks later Mrs Peggy Blewitt, manager of the city art gallery, proposed project architect Randy Kincaid and the current property owner Mr Hayden Carrington appeared before a combined meeting of the council's finance, works and recreation/arts committees. They presented for the committee's consideration a proposal that the council purchase the front half of the Carrington Mansion as well as title on the land it was situated for $4 million. The proposal required the council to provide a further $2 million spread over two financial years to convert the structure and to add an ancillary storage structure alongside incorporating workrooms. Chairman of the special committee Mayor Kennedy said everyone had received copies of the plans and a detailed summary of the proposal four days before the meeting He called for questions and there were several, answered by the mayor and, at his invitation, by the architect. The mayor thanked councilors for their questions and then said, "Mr Carrington, the city is only interested in purchasing the complete site and for that we offer $3 million." Hayden replied that offer was 'offensively inadequate' and the mayor asked the city administrator to comment. Kale Frohwein said, "Mr Mayor, I can advise the offer of $3 million pushes the council to the limit of available funds. We would have to borrow heavily to finance the conversion of the mansion into the gallery and to develop the parkland that comes with the deal. It is long-established policy of council not to borrow for acquisition and development of parkland and cultural amenities." The mayor asked for further questions or comments. Councilor Kitty Carlisle asked what had changed in the four months since the mayor and city administrator and their wives had gone to England with council authority to spend up to $6.5 million to purchase the property. "Oh, a great many things have occurred affecting council finances since that time Miss Carlisle that would be out of order to raise at this particular meeting. Mr Carrington, our offer is $3 million -- accept now or indicate how long you wish to have to contemplate it." Hayden remained seated, leaned back with his hands behind his head, yawned and said, "Mr Mayor. You and your administrative underlying have just been engaged in an unbelievable farce that's detrimental to the good people of this city. The offer falls outside of the proposal put to the council at this meeting and is therefore contemptuously rejected. I ask that the newspaper reporter present quotes me correctly on what I have just said." Mayor Kennedy angrily banged his gavel and said, "That concludes this meeting." He and the city administrator left quickly by the side door as the reporter from the Mornington News made a beeline for Hayden, talking into her cell phone. Kitty intercepted the reporter. "Celia, come across the road to the café as soon as your photographer arrives and interview us over there in neutral territory." The reporter smiled at Kitty and thanked her for being so cooperative. * * * Next morning most of the front page and all of page 2 of the newspaper was devoted to the new art gallery proposal under the banner heading, 'Mayor Slated for 'Back Door' Tactics to Stymie New Art Gallery Proposal'. Kitty as chairman of the council's recreation and arts committee was photographed waving a fist in the air and looking very wild-eyed. She was quoted in the sidebar story as saying, 'Bumbling Mayor Kennedy has to go'." The lead story quoted the proceedings of the brief council meeting fully, including the 'laid back' response by the property owner. That was in contrast to Kitty who ripped into the mayor for his 'weaseling and insulting counter offer to a commercially generous offer by the last Carrington directly linked to the founder of this city some 175 years ago'. To cut the mayor off at the pass in his inevitable personal counter-attack, Kitty got in first. She explained she'd become aware of the existence of Hayden Carrington well after her original proposal to the council to attempt to purchase the entire property from the estate of the late Duke of Beaulieu. That initial proposal was acted upon. 'The mayor of city administrator went at huge expense to England with their wives to attempt to negotiate the purchase, without success'. 'Hayden Carrington, who inherited the property came here to view it and consider what to do with it. Hayden and I have subsequently become romantically involved but there is no financial or business relationship between us. The manager of our currently totally inadequate art gallery Mrs Peggy Blewitt and I devised a scheme for the part-purchase of the property after I'd learned that Mr Carrington wished to retain some of the property. Her brother, architect Randy Kincaid, produced the drawings that appear in this edition of the Mornington News and have produced what I view as a most acceptable compromise between the city's need for a new art gallery and the desire of the landowner to remain in residence on the land. Mr Carrington, of course, will need to use some of the proceeds to rebuild his home by extending it forward'. 'The mayor and city manager have combined to stupidly engineer an ill-conceived impasse over this potentially tremendous acquisition for Mornington and district to acquire an upgraded art gallery appropriate for the cultural facilities of this city. That would be delivered under this plan for approximately the same cost of the city's year-old aquatic center and a mere one-tenth of the council's investment in our Regional Events & Exhibitions Complex'. 'I appeal to all citizens interested in supporting even-handed development of amenities in this city to protest at this blatant anti-progressive act of rejection by the mayor and city administrator in alleging the council was unable to finance the proposal presented'. Within hours of that attack on the mayor being published, Kitty spent two hours on talkback radio advancing the cause and attempting to kneecap anti-culture bigots out to have their day on the airwaves. Mornington's largest TV station attempted to set up a debate between the mayor and Kitty that evening but the mayor refused, saying no way would he appear on the same show as Miss Carlisle. The TV station used its top presenter to run a face-to-face interview with just Kitty and invited viewers to phone in questions. The studio extended the program by thirty minutes when calls began flooding in, with most callers opposing the spending by the council of between $5 and $7 million on an art gallery. Kitty remain calm but was in devastating form and she swung some of the opposition around when she pointed out the replacement main library cost $5.3 million when built and restocked six years ago and the council's annual spending on parks and reserves maintenance was just over $3 million and the last acquisition, Slater Lake Park, had cost the council $4.3 million to purchase. The lead story in next morning's newspaper was the mayor attacking Kitty. 'She's an ignoramus loud-mouth who fails to understand the intricacies in council project funding',Mayor Kennedy accused. He claimed the council had made a fair offer for the property but it had been 'contemptuously turned down. Reporter Celia West wrote in a sideline story: "I approached the property owner Mr Hayden Carrington who showed me documents in which two independent assessors valued the five acres with two-thirds under current 'open space' zoning at $6.78 million and $6.87 million respectively. But if the whole property were rezoned as class-A commercial, as was the land on its boundaries and opposite were zoned, making it available for retail, office and hotel development, one assessor estimated the value at $25 million and the other at in excess of $20 million. That evening on TV news Kitty rebutted the mayor's fantasy attack on her that she'd failed to understand the intricacies of council funding. She said she'd have a better grasp of council finances than did the mayor and perhaps only marginally less than the city administrator Mr Frohwein. 'Yet those two have teamed up in an attempted rort against a well-meaning and civic-minded property owner and attempted to pull the wool over the eyes of councilors and citizens. The mayor must go. Before Mr Kennedy rants and says he will sue me for defamation I suggest he reads my accusations backed by evidence in tomorrow morning's newspaper'. The TV interviewer failed to draw Kitty into commenting further. A council employee in treasury had secretly handed Kitty documents that the council's Emily Bishop Memorial Trust fund was actually a bequest from the late Emily Bishop totaling $4 million and legally tagged that the money be used totally and solely towards the provision of a new city art gallery. The informant also provided a complete paper trail linking a joint publicly undisclosed decision by the mayor, city administrator and current chairman on the finance committee instructing the financial controller to divert all interest earned by the Emily Bishop Memorial Trust fund to the mayor's civic entertainment fund. Besides publishing that story along with Kitty's claims of 'corruption within the council' the newspaper published a 'tear sheet' of a small article dated March 13, 1978 announcing that well-known patron of the arts the late Mrs Emily Bishop had bequeathed a large grant in trust to the council to be used for undisclosed purposes. The mayor burst into print next morning announcing Councilor Carlisle had been removed as chairman of the recreation and arts committee and from serving on other committees. 'She will be removed as a councilor when the extent of public backlash against her is revealed at next year's elections',the mayor said. Carrington Mansion Ch. 05 Meanwhile Kitty laid a complaint to the police and its fraud squad began an immediate investigation into her allegations of corruption within the council and that was the end of the mayor's attempted fight-back against Kitty through the media. In fact it was the end of the mayor in office. The mayor and city administrator resigned two days later and the chairman of the finance committee Max King resigned the following morning. In time all three would appear in court to face a series of charges relating to fraud and malpractices during the discharge of their public duties. As soon as Kitty called Hayden about the resignation of the mayor he yelled in excitement, "We've won!" "Yes, but allegations will be made against us in court." "So what? You'll bowl them for a treat just as you have bowled those three crooks. Kitty's it's been just over two weeks since I've seen you, or taken you out to dinner or laid a finger on you." "On kitty you mean you slime ball." "Yeah, on kitty. Surely it doesn't matter if we are seen together again as your campaign against them is over -- they're gone and will be facing serious charges?" "All right, we now have a greatly improved chance of interfacing with the council correctly and perhaps earning some sympathy. It's best we keep low profiles until after any negotiations with the council have concluded. I suggest you grab some take-outs and come to my apartment anytime after 7:15." "Great. Kitty, you were astonishing effective, timing your attack and counter-punching brilliantly and I agree with you now that by keeping me off the firing range it became just a straight-out highly publicized scrap between you and the mayor. What an asshole he turned out to be. People who've talked to me about him had all thought he was beyond criticism. You were brilliant getting Celia writing the piece about the rip-off expense accounts those two slime balls filed after returning from England and described how you stood up their slime ball pal who chaired the finance committee. And the livid mayor telling the reporter he'd ferret out the whistle-blower within council clearly gave a false ring to the mayor's outright denial that the claims weren't true." Kitty laughed and said it was true, wasn't it, to say give a crook enough rope and he'd hang himself. "Don't you dare be late this evening," she giggled, ending the call. Hayden arrived at Kitty's apartment on the dot of 7:15 with hot food and was raring to go. Sixteen days in a row without sinking his shaft was a clear record in sexual abstinence in all his years since losing his virginity. He'd once knowingly set sail on a naval patrol boat in the North Sea and went twelve days between ports without sex but that was accepted and anticipated because only males were on board. Kitty answered the doorbell wearing only a gown. Her face looked gaunt and her hands were shaking. "Oh God Hayden, do you mind if we fuck before eating." Agreeing without difficulty, Hayden realized Kitty was in the same boat when she threw herself on the sofa, raising her bared butt in doggie position and groaned that she, too, had found sixteen days of denial unpleasantly difficult to bear. Neither could agree that self-administration was the optimum substitute for the real thing. They huffed and puffed and as Hayden pulled back for the twelfth thrust into well-lubed kitty, Kitty convulsed and screamed triggering Hayden into a frenzy of ejaculations. Not cleaned up and not having had time to work up a sweat, they sat opposite at the table grinning at each other idiotically and with eyes aglow bit into their steak, egg and fried onion burgers with big sighs. "God, did I need that," Kitty grinned and Hayden assumed she meant the food. But she stroked a shaven leg up hairy leg and added, "I was beginning to worry that kitty might dry up on me due to drought. We did have a month apart earlier but this time was so difficult to take, being all day and night within such a short distance of each other." "What about me?" Hayden asked almost indignantly as if Kitty were implying the danger of dire affects of abstinence applied only to her. "Well obviously it didn't fall off because I felt it hit my cervix." Hayden smiled at Kitty proudly. The next morning, both walking a little stiffly for obvious reason, they went to the jeweler where Hayden had Kitty's ring finger measured and said they would call on Saturday to pick it up. They planned a small engagement party to be held at the mansion on Sunday evening and managed to reduce the invitations to forty people. Kitty's PA and Mrs Wilson were given lists of people to call. Hayden went to City Hall on Thursday at the invitation of the deputy-mayor who was acting mayor. Also attending were the council's financial controller, acting as city administrator, and the council's principal attorney. The negotiations to acquire property from Hayden for the proposed new art gallery were finalized. An agreement of intent was signed between the two parties to be presented to the monthly meeting of the full council on Monday. Acting mayor Mrs Sandra Lee-Curtis invited Hayden to attend lunch and the meeting to follow. Everyone at the engagement party had heard the rumor that a recommendation was to be put to the council for the purchase of half the mansion and develop the new art gallery. Randy the architect caught Kitty alone in the passage and repeated the rumor to her. "Sorry Randy my lips are sealed." "Aw shucks Kitty, give a guy a break." Kitty pulled him to her and kissed him. "Randy, now don't breath a word. Just don't take on any new work and try to clear the decks." It had been arranged Kitty would slept the night of the engagement party in Hayden's room. "What the fuck?" Hayden said, eyeing the dozen candles on the floor surrounding the bed. Kitty smiled. "It's your nanny darling. Mrs Wilson guessed I would be your guest tonight. Now you did limit you drinks?" "Yeah and it was painful. Five flutes of champagne over five hours and one whisky." "Good boy. Go and have a pee while I get out of these clothes and scrape all my make-up off." "Let's shower together and get your war paint off there." Kitty pulled out her hair comb and brushed her hair. Hayden was beside her instantly. "I want to undress you. This is a special night for us my sweetheart." He felt Kitty tremble and she knew that was a couple of quick orgasms brought on by the intensity of him saying that word sweetheart and the soft touch of his hand down her cheek and on to her left breast. Kitty purred. "It was a wonderful party. We do have a great bunch of friends. You were chatting to Bart (Kitty's ranch manager) and wife Linda for quite some time. They appeared transfixed. Talking to them about being Lord Hayden Carrington in Britain and all the babes falling into your bed I suppose?" Hayden dug fingers into her butt cheek. That made her jump, squeal and eyes water. "Actually I was talking about buying the former Clement Carrington property next to your ranch and asked whether it would be feasible to run the properties as one, pointing out I had yet to discuss that possibility with you. Bart said it would be a great idea; it would lower on-farm costs through improved efficiency. I asked him what did he think would be bottom-dollar for that property and he told me, Then Linda chipped in and said she'd already heard a mystery buyer had been sniffing around. At the hairdresser's, the owner Debra said she didn't know who the person was but if they offered quick settlement she'd accept $2.5 million for it lock, stock and barrel. Bart said he'd been thinking $2.8 million to $3 million plus stock plus machinery." Kitty replied to Haydon, "Hmmm, in that case I'd think $2.5 or a bit under would sound tempting." As Hayden undid Kitty's bra and took the breasts already in the early stages of arousal into his hands and squeezed softly, he looked steadily at Kitty. "If I purchased that property for $2.5 or under would you be interested in combining the two properties in terms of a single working ranch and we split everything down the middle?" "Very interested. I could draft and agreement for you to have checked out with your attorney." "But that's you." "On financial matters until we marry I suggest you find yourself an independent attorney. Your father used Toby Mellows of Dank, Mellows and Nobilo. We can then work together -- me and you two guys -- to produce a satisfactory prenuptial agreement as well." "But I really don't think..." "Be wise darling and accept my advice." "Very well my intellectual and business-minded superior." "Good, and please refer to Toby tomorrow that heads of agreement drafted for signing if the full council agrees to adopt the agreement as recommended. Also have him act for you at each and every signing and the contract to appoint Randy as architect as well." "Yes ma'am." Kitty said with that business over could he please give his fiancée an engagement night encounter she'd remember for the rest of her life. "Yes ma'am." More than four hours later Kitty was drifting off to sleep, aware that for the first time in her sexually active life she'd been thoroughly seduced as distinct from being fucked. Hayden had completed undressing her slowly, raining soft kissers and stroking flesh until it goose-bumped. Before he'd finished Kitty was drooling like a kid in a candy shop and her vulva was in full pout and leaking. Then Hayden hugged and rubbed against her telling Kitty what a rare sweet and dear treasure she was with high-charge spirit that welded with her sexuality so perfectly. He waxed on she was the ultimate in no-nonsense femininity that more romantic males dreamed about as the woman they desired passionately to lure alongside as a angelic companion for eternity. "Ohmigod," Kitty had whispered, convulsing. When the high-charge roaring through her body subsided she too pressed flesh and kissed and licked and murmured sweet words of praise of her seducer, her body tingling with anticipation that she would get her night to remember. They went hand-in-hand to the shower. Both still wet from the shower, Hayden carried Kitty to the bed, spread her out gently and began licking and kissing Kitty from head to toe, almost turning her into a jelly-like piece of pulsating flesh. Then right at the point of penetration as Kitty took Hayden's hot piston into her even hotter hand, alarm bells in her head warned of imminent disaster. Hayden was only half erect. The fucking liar, she wailed silently. He'd lied to her and had consumed more alcohol that he'd admitted. Fortunately in her younger days Kitty had gone through a stage of reading 'hot' romances and remembered how Princess Normandie had pushed the Black Prince Rogan into top gear. Kitty casually draped her hand with a licked finger over Hayden's butt and it slyly went to work. Hayden swelled like a bronze stallion and Kitty gurgled in delight as slowly he pushed the thick iron-like rod into the warmly welcoming kitty. Hayden was in no hurry and slowly encouraged Kitty to the verge of blowing like a fountain but would ease her back from that heart-pounding peak and even before she'd fully settled they'd work in erotic counter-point collusion utilizing the full range of body parts and erogenous zones until rising towards yet another peak when the pressing need to back-off would once again trigger the descent. Of course occasionally there was a misjudgment but after a rest and toweling they were at it again, raising the passion within each other. Finally Hayden staggered off to the bathroom and when he returned Kitty stirred and told him she didn't think she would go again within the next few hours. And then: "Ohmigod, I've peed the bed when dozing!" "It doesn't matter; it's your bed," said her prince. "Come over against me where it's dry." Next morning Kitty awoke knowing she was truly in love and at the way Hayden was looking at her, being unsuccessful in attempting to stroke himself hard, Kitty became convinced he possessed an elevated feeling about their bonded relationship. "God, this room smells like a whorehouse," Kitty yawned. Kitty then on the defensive spent the next few minutes attempting to convince Hayden she'd lied and wasn't speaking from experience of visiting a house of ill repute. Finally she said, "Perhaps I was meaning the homes of some of my girlfriends." Hayden said he'd accept that, knowing the caliber of some of her girlfriends. Of course that throwaway comment had him immediately on the back foot as Miss Attorney began questioning the defendant known to be a carnal activist of his knowledge of her female friends. Hayden had the wit to jump in early with a not guilty plea. * * * Hayden with his attorney Toby Mellows entered into an agreement to purchase the ranch next to Kitty's for $2.2 million. With that deal signed up with ranchover Debra Smith and her attorney, Hayden went on to lunch with the council. At its meeting the council agreed to pay Hayden $3.8 million for half of the mansion and the land from the firewall to be erected at the council's expense and out to Pioneer Avenue and the council also confirmed the negotiated proposal to pay $4.5 million for the zoned open space of three acres from the mansion rear fenced boundary and down to the river-side walkway that included the lake and the linking half-acre strip from Pioneer Avenue running between the mansion and the apartment building where Kitty lived.. The council agreed to Hayden's requests that the gallery be called the Carrington Memorial Art Gallery and the new parkland be called Carlisle-Bowden Park. The proposed name for the new city park had surprised Kitty who burst into tears when she'd read the final agreement at tje start of the meeting. Hayden, Kitty and Mrs Wilson next day rode with the late Clement Carrington's granddaughter Debra over the land Hayden was waiting for purchase settlement date. As Hayden and Kitty stopped on a rise and looked over at the pine where the hanging took place, Hayden said he'd have the tree felled and carted away. "No darling," Kitty said, taking Hayden's hand. "The tree is the innocent party in that atrocity. Perhaps I'll conceive our first baby under that pine providing we picnic there enough times. It will then become my favorite place."