The Viscounts Daughter
Chapter 3: Richard

Copyright© 2014 by Texrep

I could not call it fate that I was there that week. The real reason was the arrogant and self-seeking attitude of one of my fellow cast members a guy named Axel Denniman. We were making a first world war drama set in nineteen fifteen. Whilst the film was set against the background of war, it was really a drama of how the class system in Britain was eroded under the strain of war. I was playing the part of a junior officer. Together with three other subalterns and a Major we were trying to decide how best to capture an enemy officer with the least casualties for ourselves. The answer to our predicament would be provided by a batman corporal who speaking out rashly actually gave us the answer to our problem. This was the essence of the drama; that enlisted men were not the dumb monosyllabic functionaries as most officers were trained to believe, indeed with the enlistment programme of that time the ranks were being filled with teachers, solicitors, accountants and even university lecturers. Thus the officer corps had to adjust their thinking. It was important to the drama that the actor playing the corporal should deliver the line. Denniman believed that he should deliver the line, therefore boosting his influence on the drama and his personal profile. He shocked us when he delivered the line before the corporal could open his mouth. "Cut!" Shouted the director.

He strolled over and spoke quietly with Denniman and we went for the second take. Denniman did the same thing. "Cut!" Another conference and another take. Same thing. This time there was a lot of shouting between the director and Denniman which ended with the director saying that it Denniman was not going to adhere to the script then they would have to get another actor who would. Tempers had raised and both the director and actor would not back down. With another take ruined, Denniman was escorted off the set and we all relaxed. The part he was playing was not minor and he could not be replaced by promoting one of the extras. The director and one of the producers were in conference for most of the day. Eventually they announced that shooting was suspended for two weeks as the chosen replacement would not be available until then. As the officers appeared in most scenes they could not shoot around the part. Therefore I had two weeks to kick my heels.

One of the producers, John Lilman approached me. "Richard, what are you going to do with your unexpected holiday?"

"I don't really know, Mr. Lilman."

He nodded. "I have a cottage down on the South Devon coast. I get so busy these days I rarely get down there. Would you do me a favour and take a week or so there?"

"That's very generous of you."

"Not really, Richard. I have a project coming up later this year and I want you in it. Let's say one good turn deserves another."

"Don't tell me it's another war movie."

"Sorry, Richard it is, but it's a multi-national project, so the money will be very good. Your part will be a good one."

"Sounds interesting. Why me?"

"Simple. You turn up on time, you have learned your part, and you have read the whole script not just your part, so you know what the film is about. Then you turn in a good performance. I won't go on else you will get an inflated view of your worth and ask me for more money."

"O.K. Send me the script."

He clapped me on the shoulder. "That's what I like to hear a straight yes and nothing about talking to your agent."

The cottage, as he described it may have been just that at some time in the past, now it was much, much more. The cottage had been built on a spur halfway down a small cove that descended to a miniscule beach. Its situation sheltered the cottage from the all winds except from those that came directly from the south. The accommodation was luxurious with large sliding double-glazed windows in all the living areas and bedrooms. A partially covered terrace gave views over the sea and to one side on a slightly lower level was a swimming pool. The pool was surrounded by high hedges making it a very private place and I suspect the scene of much uninhibited behaviour. I was surprised to be greeted by a Mr. and Mrs. Warren who were the housekeeper and general factotum. I had thoughts that I may have had to fend for myself, but Mrs. Warren was an excellent cook so I could enjoy my days lazing and reading in the sun. From the terrace, you could see the whole of the cove and the tiny figure that appeared around the headland that day was seen almost immediately. Mr. Warren had seen the figure too and was preparing to go down and warn the person that he or she was on private property. I had a funny feeling that I knew the person so I told him that I would go down. The feeling of knowing this person became stronger as I neared the beach. There was something about her, and I knew it was a 'her' not a 'he', that reminded me of someone. It was the way she walked, the way she turned her head or looked down. It was easy to walk as the whole beach was washed by the tide. She looked up as I approached and I recognised her. Lady Andrea!

If I described what happened between us as a shock, it would be an understatement. I had no inkling that as we walked and talked within minutes we would be coupled together in the most exhilarating experience of my life. I was still breathing heavily as I lowered myself to the sand Andrea kept her hold until I was kneeling and she sat on my thighs her legs either side of me. Guilt washed over me for taking such advantage and I must have been shamefaced. "Don't look like that, Rich." She said.

"I'm sorry, Andrea. I don't know what came over me."

"I'm not sorry, Rich. It happened. It happened for whatever reason, but I am not sorry. It felt like a primitive instinct, me woman, you man, Mate!"

"I understand that, but we are supposedly of a higher culture. You are married; I can see the ring on your finger. We shouldn't have done that."

"So if you had the chance to think we wouldn't have made love?"

I looked in her eyes and saw something, I don't know what but I sensed that she needed the right words from me. "If I was a logical man I would have walked away. However, I am a man driven by impulses that I don't understand. You are so lovely and have given me something priceless. Making love with you was the most beautiful experience of my life. Having said that some people would have described what we did as rutting."

Andrea laughed delightedly. "It was for me as well, Rich, and I can agree that we rutted very nicely too, although the aftermath of having sand in some very tender places is not."

"Come on." I stood up and helped to her feet. I held out my hand. "Let's go and wash that sand off."

She picked up two miniscule scraps, which was her bikini, and I picked up my shorts. Andrea looked at her bikini bottoms and shook her head. They had sand in them. She looked at me with a cheeky grin. "It seems that bathing 'au naturel' is on the cards."

"Well, I have never seen a sea nymph so lovely before."

"Richard! Are you trying to seduce me?" She stopped short and laughed. "Silly me, you have already done that."

"I thought it was you seducing me?" I bantered.

"A well brought up lady like me doesn't do that." I waited, as I knew she was going to say more. "I shall have to adjust my opinion. Seducing and being seduced was wonderful."

Bathing naked in the sea is to be recommended strongly. The sensations it inspires are beyond imagination. I had never done it before and judging from Andrea's cries of happiness I deduced neither had she. We held hands as we dipped our toes to start. When we ventured into deeper water, the swells pushed us apart. "Rich!" I heard her cry as the waves buffeted her. I sort of half swam and waded through chest deep water and gathered her in my arms. She clung to me laughing as waves broke over us. Her hair was soaked and hung about her face, a face that was alive with this new experience and then turned sultry as the action of the swells created a friction between our bodies. Wordlessly we turned and made our way back to the strand. My desire for her was obvious as was hers for me. Andrea lay down on the firm-packed sand and held up her arms. I joined her as she murmured, "Yes, yes, yes." The heat we generated was assuaged by the cool wavelets, which washed gently against our legs. The cries of joy and ecstasy were softer this time but no less genuine than before.

We lay clasped in each other's arms in the aftermath, our breathing returning to normal and our hearts recovering a steady beat. Kisses and soft words were exchanged until a wave lifted us slightly. Looking around I could see that the tide was now coming in quite quickly. This was reinforced as Andrea's bikini bottoms floated past on their way out to sea. We got to our feet and I grabbed the voyaging bikini. Andrea rescued her bag before it too took to the sea. I then spotted my shorts still dry but on the point of launching. She examined her bikini and declared that it needed sluicing out before she could put it back on. We yet again paddled out to knee-deep water and she bent to rinse out her bikini. I was presented with a most delicious sight of her bottom encrusted with sand the salt and quartz sparkling in the sun. Being the gentleman, I bent and started splashing water over those taut globes. Andrea looked around and understood what I was doing. She laughed. "No one had washed my bum since my nanny, and I was about six at the time." She paused. "But I quite like you doing it."

"Nanny!" I exclaimed.

Andrea nodded. "Yes. Mummy died shortly after I was born, so I had a nanny."

"Oh! I'm sorry."

"No need, Rich. It was years ago."

We trudged through the waves back to the beach and Andrea steadied herself with a hand on my arm as she pulled up the wet bikini. The top had been further up the beach and had remained dry. I then pulled on my shorts. I looked along the beach and what I saw was demoralising. I touched Andrea's shoulder and pointed for her to look as well. The tide had come in sufficiently for her passage around the headland to become impossible. "Oh bugger!" She exclaimed. "How am I going to get back now?"

I thought quickly. "You could come up to the cottage and I can take you back later in the car."

"Who else is there?"

"Only Mr. and Mrs. Warren. They seem to be the caretakers." Andrea thought for a while. "Well as there seems to be no other option, that's what I will have to do." She smiled. "It seems Mr. Carter that you are rescuing me again."

"If you keep rewarding me as you have just done, I'll keep on doing it."

"That wasn't a reward. That was my pleasure."

We climbed the path up to the cottage. In the steepest parts, large rocks served as steps. As we were getting near to top, I saw Mrs. Warren come out and wait for us on the lawn where the path finishes. Andrea seemed a little nervous until Mrs. Warren held out a towelling robe. "I thought you could use this, Madam. Perhaps you would like a shower to wash off all that salt."

"That is kind of you, and yes I would like a shower."

Mrs. Warren nodded. "I will put out some lunch on the terrace, just Pate and salad. If you would like to come with me, I show you to the shower. They walked away leaving me to wonder how this had happened.

ANDREA

Mrs. Warren showed me into a bedroom and pointed out the bathroom. "There's shower gel, oils and lotion so please help yourself. I'll get you a hair-dryer, I am sure you will want to wash your hair as well."

"Thank you Mrs. Warren."

"It's no trouble Madam. If you let me have your bikini, I will put it through a quick wash. It will be dry in about an hour."

"Please don't go to any trouble. I have a dress in my bag to put over it. Oh! I am Andrea Seddon; you don't need to call me Madam."

Mrs. Warren homed in on my bag and pulled out the sundress. "Hmm. I'll run an iron over this. Won't take long. Let me have your bikini, Madam." She emphasised the 'Madam' telling me that this was how it was done here. I dare not argue, as she was so positive. I pulled off the bikini top and bottoms and just wearing the robe she had provided went into the bathroom.

I opted for a long shower, washing my hair as well. It was time to relax and reflect on my actions. I had often heard people explain that they didn't mean to do whatever, it just happened. I had a jaundiced view of that excuse, usually thinking 'oh yes?' Now I was using that same excuse. There was no conspiracy here, although others may not believe that. There was no intention, having accidentally met Richard to make love with him. It just happened. OK the first time it did just happen, but I couldn't use that excuse for the second time. Nor could I use that excuse for the next time for I knew I wanted to make love with him again, I wanted to be in this man's arms again, held lovingly with tenderness. I did feel guilt but that was overlaid by the intense pleasure of our loving.

I sat at the vanity mirror in the bedroom and combed out my hair. There was a knock at the door and I called. "Come in." As I expected it was Mrs. Warren.

"I have brought you the hair-dryer, Lady Andrea." She plugged it in and waved it around as it got to temperature. "I'll do this; it's easier than trying to do it yourself." She proceeded to brush and dry my hair. I was somewhat bemused. She had called me Lady Andrea. Where had that come from I asked myself. Did Richard mention my family? I doubted it, but I asked the question. "As Mr. Leigh been talking out of turn?"

 
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