Chapter 34 To London, With Love
To London, With Love
LANIE
Word came that my love scene was flipped with others due to concerns about seasons changing.
So, we pushed off the inevitably painful, awkward scenes for a few more weeks.
We filmed a less daring scene where only my right breast was visible outside the family’s greenhouse, all because it snowed.
In movies, real snow was gold. We thought we’d have to pay to have it made.
It allowed everyone to save time, money, and setup considerations to use what we had.
In all honesty, as my costar and I kissed and ground against the side of a tree by the greenhouse door, I didn’t think about the fact that my ex watched on.
I didn’t worry about much at all. I was in character.
I leaned into being The Countess as she found herself sexually gratified in the wild after what basically amounted to primal play.
He pulled my bodice down to suck on my nipple and all I could think about was portraying Annie’s sheer joy of being touched and wanted.
But I didn’t want him. I wanted, instead, my husband.
I couldn’t help but think about Baz and what we’d decided.
I’d not started a new pack of pills. And yet, Baz didn’t flinch.
Instead, our sexting grew hungrier. I thought about the fact that he said he wanted to mark my face with his cum that morning rather than the current reality I was in.
It worked to make it look authentic. I successfully ignored Sam.
After my first official nude scene, the crew began to pack.
Tomorrow, we’d return to London for a short break to film scenes from Annie’s wedding to The Earl.
Leah would also be filming a bit of an epilogue with next season’s story.
So, it was a mixed bag. I told Baz we were coming “home” to London to his sheer surprise.
He didn’t understand shows weren’t always filmed in story order—especially when locations were an issue.
Regardless of the reason why, I arrived home to Baz’s house before he even came back from his most recent visit to Berlin.
I relaxed for a few hours before it was call time.
We were shooting a late-night party at a historic mansion owned by close friends of Leah’s family.
. Baz texted he would be home by midnight.
I told him to meet me at the afterparty if he wanted. We’d reserved the VIP at a Soho club.
Tonight was different than usual. Leah was set to play my mother—a domineering, demanding Chicagoan a la Mrs. Vanderbilt herself.
Annie’s real-life mother was described as a “ball buster” and “hellraiser” in her own biography.
I was there to play her excited, hopeful daughter.
Leah snapped right into character, but didn’t seem to get what she needed from me. I grew embarrassed.
“Lanie, let’s chat,” Leah pulled me aside after a take. “You’re too joyful.”
“Oh, really. I think of Annie as being hopeful here,” I said. “She’s excited to get married.”
“She’s confused. She wants to please her parents and wants to follow the rules, but she’s also scared of what’s to come. She’s marrying a man she doesn’t know. What could be scarier for an eighteen-year-old?”
I fought the urge to laugh. “I’ve done worst, honestly. Okay, I get what you are saying. Excitement, but trepidation.”
“Exactly,” Leah said.
As I played across from Leah, I began to draw on my own discomfort and worry as I waited for Baz at the registry office, terrified he’d never come. I felt lonely, a little used, and frightened. Even if I now knew being married to Baz wasn’t a terrible loss, I didn’t know that then.
My mother explained the expectations to me as my own mother had months before—knowing full well what I had agreed to.
“You’re not just going to be a famous lady in a grand house,” Leah said. “You will, Annie, be expected to contribute.”
“How so?” I asked, innocently.
“He will expect some things of you.”
“Like help?”
“No, dear,” Leah turned from me and walked towards the mirror hanging above a grand fireplace. “He will expect you to give him children.”
“And I can do that. I want to have babies of my own,” I said.
“And how does that happen?”
Confused, I stammered, “I do not know, Mother, but—”
Leah spun around, looking pained. “He will need to reach… marital Congress… with you. It is the only way you can have children. Tomorrow night or in a few nights, when he comes to your bedchamber, you must let him in.”
“Alright. I can… do that.”
“What happens next…” Leah turned away again, this time speaking to me from the mirror. “It may shock you. It may also be painful. But, if you can endure it—and you should, for his benefit—then you will produce a child.”
“Oh…”
“Eventually, you will fall pregnant—and for your sake, I hope it is soon. Once you are with child, he will leave you alone until he feels the desire to produce another. Pregnancy is a happy time where you can guarantee you have the bed to yourself.”
“To myself?”
“He won’t dare bother with you. It is better this way. Let him do what he must, and the pain will end sooner than later.”
“Mother, I don’t… I don’t understand.”
“You will,” Leah said.
She spun, nodded at me, then left.
I looked in the mirror, walking towards it to stare up at myself. There is a long pause then Leah yelled, “Fucking cut!”
I turned, trying to read her face.
“I think we’re done. Great job, Lanie!”
I smiled, satisfied. The truth wasn’t all that much stranger from fiction.
That was the issue. Tonight, I’d let Baz use all of me—I’d luxuriate in the way he wanted me—knowing full well what might happen.
And after that? I didn’t know. The truth was, I didn’t want Baz to stop coming to my bed.
I wanted him to always be there. But would that happen?
Or would he give up on me as soon as I’d granted him the last thing on our list—an heir?
It made me worry I signed my own death warrant.
Baz leaving was the last thing I wanted.