Chapter 19
nineteen
Hosting a ball at Blackwell Manor came with a slew of problems. Invitations, decorations, food, and wine all needed to be prepared.
Gretel, to no one’s surprise, excelled at the decorations. But before we could get there, the entire Manor needed to be cleaned from top to bottom.
She only complained once. “It’s already clean,” she huffed under her breath. I didn’t dignify her with a response. We had to sweep and dust and mop. Every inch of the place scrubbed.
“The Manor has never looked better,” Baz said, kissing my cheek one day. I shrugged out of his grasp and violently attacked a rug that held far too much dust.
Only then did I allow Gretel to think about decorations.
“Stars,” she said dreamily.
I listened in, but honestly, it was all a little over my head. “Just remember,” I advised. “Gentle folk are stuffy. We need it to be classy.”
“And elegant.” She kissed me. “I know.”
She focused on the decorations because the activity kept her in the house. It left me on hand to go into the market and work with vendors. We wouldn’t be having a full meal, but there were plenty of refreshments that we needed. And we did not want the masses drinking on a completely empty stomach.
I ordered large amounts of food, ingredients to turn into simple hand-held fare, and an obnoxiously large case of berry wine.
“Flowers,” Gretel requested one morning. “Black roses.”
I scrunched my nose. “There isn’t such a thing.”
She giggled, shooting me an innocent look which I rarely was able to dismiss. So, in between visiting confectioners, I spoke to the florist.
“That many will cost,” the florist said.
I took the quote back to Baz, who merely shrugged. “If it’s what pet wants.”
The florist took our payment and then, like the gossip she was, let it slip to several people.
This only built anticipation more.
For Baz Coldwell had truly spent a fortune on enough black roses to fill Blackwell Manor. Everyone needed to see it.
The next time I went into town, the invitations had already been mailed out. I noticed a buzz of excitement as I went from shop to shop using a list prepared by Gretel.
Nearer and nearer did the date of the ball seem to loom.
I would wake up early in the morning. Make sure the Manor continued to remain clean. Pulled out our best serving ware and polished the silver until my face reflected in it.
My hands began to itch, the skin red and irritated from the amount of soap I’d started to use. Baz didn’t say much, possibly because he knew I’d snap at him if he did.
I would not be seen as the head of the Manor, but nonetheless, I would not allow anyone to find Blackwell Manor lacking.
But Baz did go out and come back with a balm enhanced by magic that I knew cost a fair bit of coin. He helped me apply it, and I slept soundly with my head on his chest most nights.
Then I’d be up again the next morning, pressing a kiss to his lips before crawling over his and Gretel’s sleeping bodies to get down to the kitchen.
We expected a large crowd. Especially as several of the town’s most well-known families had large parties.
We began to prepare the rooms. I couldn’t tell you the last time Blackwell Manor’s ballroom had been used.
But now the floors shone and tables for refreshment were set out.
Another room was dedicated entirely to food.
And of course, we had a room for cards where I knew Baz would probably slip away to conduct business with men.
The day of the ball, I came out of the kitchen, admittedly needing a break from preparing the food, when I stopped in the middle of the ballroom. My head craned upward, taking in every inch of space.
Awe. It filled me up as I looked at Gretel’s work.
She had transformed Blackwell Manor into darkness. But it wasn’t bleak.
The black roses were lush and fragrant. She’d created arches in between each doorway so people felt like they walked through a garden despite being inside. Then the tables were full of black and silver vases.
Just as I had entered the ballroom, she had tasked Baz with helping her. Using his magic, he helped float a black tapestry, securing it to the ceiling. The material swirled and rippled with silver painted stars, creating a breathtaking effect.
Baz smirked when he caught my mouth hanging open.
Gretel handed him larger stars, putting him to work again. He enchanted them to float around the room, high in the sky, making it appear like shooting stars.
“This is incredible.”
“All the credit goes to pet,” Baz replied.
She appeared shy for once in her life. Occasionally, when Baz and I read at night, she’d sketch or paint. But I never knew how talented her artistic skills were.
“Incredible,” I said again, just to her.
A pink flush crept along her skin. “I wanted to be useful. You’ve done so much. Going into town almost every day while I can’t leave the grounds.”
“You know I don’t mind.”
But I think she did. “You’ve spent so much time haggling with vendors when you’d rather be doing anything else. The least I could do was make sure everyone knows how wonderful Blackwell Manor is.”
The house moved, just the slightest, but we understood it to be agreeing with the idea that Blackwell Manor was in fact wonderful.
“It’s spectacular,” I said. “And thank you for putting out the tables already. I want to give the front foyer one last scrub and make sure the coat check is set up right. But then I’ll focus on putting the food out.”
Baz and Gretel shared a look.
My back went rigid. “What?”
They had already made several faces at one another during this time. I put up with it because I didn’t care if they thought I was ridiculous. Blackwell Manor’s masquerade ball would be perfect.
“You’ve done marvelous fairy,” Baz told me, stepping closer. “You’re a credit to this Manor. Let me finish the last final things. Go ahead and get ready.”
I’m certain he meant it as a kindness, but I wrinkled my nose.
Baz laughed at that. “I’m not completely useless, you know. I can at the very least bring the food out.”
“There’s so much.” I nibbled on my lip. “And you need to get ready too.”
Nobody cared about my state of appearance. So long as my black dress blended in, I’d be no more than the furniture. A servant scurrying about, all in the hopes that everything went off without a hitch.
Baz brushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. “Go and get ready, fairy. That’s an order.”
I frowned, but I couldn’t say anything else. Taking one last look at the star-filled room, I departed for the stairs.
“Go and help her, pet,” Baz added. Dutifully, Gretel followed.
“I’ll run a bath,” Gretel suggested when we got to the room.
“We have to be quick,” I said, pulling open the wardrobe.
“We will be,” Gretel promised, the tub already filling.
She loved to lounge in the bathtub, but while I agreed with the need to wash away sweat and flour thanks to my baking, we needed to hurry.
I didn’t doubt, with all the anticipation I’d seen the last few days, that people would arrive earlier than expected.
Gretel tore off her dress, her tall, lithe body so much healthier than when she’d first arrived.
“Come on, Wystle.” She held out her hand, fingers wiggling as she beckoned me.
I had grabbed towels because, of course, she hadn’t thought about the practical things.
Only when I set them on the vanity and made sure we had a jar of soap, did I strip off my dress. Gretel, settling into the tub, licked her lips as she watched me.
“I normally sit there,” I told her.
“It’s okay just for once,” she said, settling me so my back was to her chest. Her arms curled around me, pulling me impossibly close.
“We don’t have time,” I warned.
Her fingers skimmed the sides of my breasts.
“Gretel,” I warned.
She pulled me back, her pussy rubbing into me. Her hands lowered, the water rippling.
“Gretel,” I warned again, then hissed under my breath. “What are you doing?”
Her fingers explored my folds, running down the seam. She parted me, and if it wasn’t for her hold on me, I might have jumped out of the tub.
But honestly, who was I kidding? My head leaned against her shoulder, my back arching. I ached for her and Baz all the time. I’d take whatever I could get because I was just as much of a needy slut as I proclaimed Gretel to be.
Her finger worked in and out of me, building me up. I wanted more of her. More pleasure and pain. I waited impatiently for her thumb to press my clit. But while she faintly traced it, the pressure didn’t build.
“Gretel!” I grumbled as I rocked against her.
Her hand slipped away from me, and I swear to the stars, I growled.
Water splattered over the tub, I whirled around so fast.
“I’m sorry!” Her cheeks were red, and she held her hands up in surrender. “Baz told me I could only work you up. But you can’t come yet.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
She squirmed. Evidently, I wasn’t the only one in pain.
“What were you two doing before I left the kitchen?” I asked.
She bit her lip. “He’s going to find us both tonight. Spend some time with us alone. A-are you okay with that?”
It wasn’t uncommon for Baz to find us during the day.
Sometimes he’d throw me down on his desk and lick me until I came.
Other times I’d be dusting when I’d hear Gretel’s moans.
There were no harsh feelings because it was a common enough occurrence.
And usually Baz did it because he wanted us to either watch or listen in. A tantalizing tease to the other party.
So, no, I didn’t mind that Baz planned on finding us at separate times and show us a bit of pleasure. It only added to the magical night.
But I did not like being worked up to the edge.
“That’s a dirty trick,” I told Gretel.
Her shoulders relaxed, but she held herself in such a way that I knew she agreed.
We finished washing, the pair of us keeping to opposite ends of the bathtub like we might explode if we came into contact.
I’d never worn something so beautiful as the floor-length black gown I put on for that night. The material flowed, nipping my waist and highlighting my curves. I didn’t feel short and squat.
“Gretel,” I exclaimed when I saw her. The black material of her dress cupped her chest, and she stood tall in a pair of skinny heels.
She appeared almost bashful.
“Your hair,” I gasped.
She tipped her chin down letting me study the intricate chignon. She looked the picture of submission, and if we had time to incur Baz’s wrath, I might have been tempted.
Instead, she pulled out a silver mask, her face obscured by the delicate material. Holding her hands out, she twirled.
“You look stunning.” I tried to grab her hand.
“No kissing!” she said.
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that look on your face. And I’m already about to explode. As lovely as dancing sounds, I want this night to be over already. I need you both.”
I laughed. “Tonight? Tonight we’ll be so tired we’ll all fall into bed. Plus there will be so much that needs to be done to get the place back in order.”
Gretel sighed, her shoulders sagging. “Why must it always be work with you?”
I placed my mask over my face. It was a simple black mask, but for a second while wearing it and studying my dress in the mirror, I let myself pretend I was someone great.
Gretel leaned her chin on my shoulder. A moment ago, she hadn’t let me touch her, but she smiled softly. “I’m going to be wet all night, thinking about you.”
Gretel, even with her mask, would stick to the kitchen. I didn’t want to take any risks of someone noticing her appearance or asking questions. Most knew Blackwell Manor kept only one servant, and even with the party, it might draw attention.
I elbowed her, but she dodged while laughing. The sound carried me forward, a giddy excitement coursing over me.