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The Wedding Flight

Chapter 19

The day of the wedding, Evelyn sat at her vanity, staring dully at her reflection as young Hadly dressed her mane for the ceremony. She was clad in a long white gown, with long sleeves and a high neck which cascaded with gleaming pearls. Her veil lay on the vanity, waiting for the moment when she would drape it over her face. Glancing down at it, she felt as if she were about to attend a funeral, not a wedding.

Hadly shook her head dismally as she carefully slid pearl-pins in her mistress' white bun. Her chocolate brown bangs hung half over one of her sad eyes. She was dressed in the simple dress and apron of a servant, but a flower had been pinned in her long mane for the ceremony, and Evelyn had allowed her to try on her perfume.

After Daisy's departure, sixteen-year-old Hadly had become Evelyn's personal servant by request of the duchess, turning down her bed each night, helping her dress, helping her groom, bringing her tea each morning - and eavesdropping at doors for her. Where Daisy used to stand at doors and walls, Hadly now stood, listening to Charles and Dick as they argued, listening in on the gossip of other servants, reading what letters and papers came for Charles and reporting back her findings.

Because of Hadly, Evelyn had spent the last few weeks well informed and was perfectly aware of what had become of Lily - though Dick and Charles seemed to believe she was unaware the fox was even gone. They had done everything in their power to keep her and Lily apart for fear that further attachment might make sending her away all the more difficult. They hadn't a clue that Evelyn was already in love with her. She smiled to herself: the damage was done.

"I don't understand, m'lady," Hadly muttered, for fear that Nana - who was fussing at a maid on the other side of the room - might hear. "They done sent Miss Fox far away to the king, and you're going to marry the marquis? It's like you're giving up."

Evelyn smiled sadly. "I'm not giving up, Hadly," she whispered back. She lifted her chin. "I'll let them think I'm defeated. I'll let them think they've won. Then I'll slip away to rescue Lily. I won't let the queen get her filthy paws on her!"

"Then . . . I'll never see you again?" Hadly whispered sadly.

Evelyn glanced at her through the mirror, her blue eyes bright with an apology. "No, darling. I'm sorry."

Hadly sniffed and nodded. "I'll miss you, Miss Evelyn. Before you elevated me, I was sweatin' over hot ovens and always covered in flour. You made me your lady-in-waiting, and you was so kind a mistress . . . I'm scared I'll have to go to some new mistress now, perhaps meaner and uglier!"

Evelyn smiled in spite of herself.

"Mother would surely leave here if you left," went on Hadly unhappily. "She only stays on for you."

"Then make sure Charles sends you over to Esshowl. It's one of our villages on the outskirts here. A lady Manford is mayor of the village. I know she could use a servant and that she is very kind."

Hadly smiled. "Thank you, m'lady!" She frowned sadly. "I wish you luck. And I hope you find Miss Fox again. She was nice. . . . for one of them savages."

Evelyn smiled sadly. "Thank you, Hadly."

"Shoo!" Nana cried, stamping over to them. The old Pointer waved her wrinkled paws at Hadly and shouted again, "Shoo, I said! You've spoilt my work!"

Hadly bowed her head and scurried away as Nana took over. She fumbled and fussed with Evelyn's bun as Evelyn stared dully at the mirror, miserably resigned to her fate once more.

"I'm so proud of you, mistress," Nana said happily. "I can finally say you're doing your mother proud! Marrying the marquis and continuing your legacy - the proud legacy of the purebred foxhound! This is what she wanted for you, what your father wanted, rest his soul."

"And what about what I want?" Evelyn said almost angrily.

Nana tisked. "What you want? Now you're sounding like a pup again, deary. Even still you fail to grasp that something bigger than you exists! Keeping your pure bloodline intact, keeping your family's heads up high and passing on the proud genes that have made the Kingsleys top dogs for centuries - that is more important that licking any servant's pussy. Or any vixen's pussy, for that matter."

Evelyn blushed to her mane, shocked. "Nana!" she gasped.

Nana chuckled. "You are horrified by my language, as befits a proper lady. Good. Perhaps there's hope for you after all. And who knows, deary? The marquis is of an open mind. Perhaps he'll let you take on a servant and carry on with her. You'd be a fool to think he won't carry on with your brother."

Evelyn bit her lip and wanted to sink into the floor. God. Nana knew everything.

The ceremony was beautiful. Everything was. Succulent roast duck and wine stood among the platters in an endless spread. Charles gave a toast, and Evelyn watched him, knowing that inside he was dying as surely as she. She danced with Dick in the center of the floor as everyone watched, being sure to keep a smile on her face so convincing that no one had a clue tears were pushing behind her lashes. But Dick had a clue. He looked at her in pity and kissed her cheek, and she smiled for him. The court healer, old Fassil, used his fox magic to send orbs of light sparkling over them as they danced. The crowds ooed and awed, and after some time, slowly began to spill onto the dance floor. Evelyn eventually retired to the high table, where she poked at her cake as Dick danced with his mother.

Evelyn didn't look up as old Fassil approached her. He was a fox who had served in the court at Howlester for many years. When Duchess Victoria was alive, he was her advisor, using his powers of divination to divine the future, weed out ambitious nobles both ruthless and cunning, and . . . keep her updated on the latest fashions. He served Evelyn and Charles in much the same manner and had saved their lives countless times from court intrigue. When Evelyn was a girl, she would sit at his feet and listen as he told her stories of his tribe, who he had lived with - according to him - over one hundred years before. It was because of Fassil that Evelyn became fascinated with foxes and their culture. It was because of him that she spent the better part of her life trying to bring them into society as equals. And it was because of him now that she would be able to escape.

Unlike Lily, Fassil was allowed to wear clothing and approached the high table in a long mauve robe complete with gold trim. Duchess Victoria had always treated him like a clever pet, and as a token of affection, had given him a leather collar, which he wore even now. Unlike the foxes in CrinningtonForest, he was a grey fox with shriveled black paws, and the tip of his low tail was also black. His small, calculating eyes were black as well, and his long mane swept to his tail, gray as ash and almost ragged. Small pouches dangled from his belt, along with tiny bird skulls and beads. Without looking at Evelyn, he reached for the golden pitcher on the table, and at the same time . . . slipped a small vial from his sleeve. He set the vial discreetly near her plate and said in a low voice, "It will give you five hours."

"Thank you, Fassil," Evelyn whispered and tucked the vial in her cleavage before anyone was the wiser.

Fassil lifted the pitcher and tray. "Of course. Good luck, my girl. I will pray to the spirit guardian of my tribe that you are successful. And I want you to know . . . you were always like a daughter to me."

Evelyn blinked back tears and smiled: Fassil left a daughter behind when he was captured by foxhounds one hundred years ago. "Var sihle es," she whispered in his tongue.

I love you too.

Fassil smiled. He started to turn away, then grunted and "accidentally" spilled the contents of the pitcher on Evelyn. Evelyn shot from her chair and went rigid as the wine sloshed over her. There was an immediate uproar. Servants ran to her aid, dabbing her with towels while nobles shook their heads, gasped, and whispered. The band stopped playing, servers stopped serving at the banquet table, and somewhere on the dance floor, Duchess Giselle fainted.

Evelyn was not surprised when Dick scolded at Fassil and sent him away. The old fox flattened his ears and shuffled off, but as he went, he caught Evelyn's eye and gave her a discreet wink.

Complaining about Fassil and appalled as a gaggle of hens, Nana and the maids rushed Evelyn up to the bedchamber she would now share with Dick. They helped her bathe and change, and by the time they were through, night had fallen, filling the windows with its spray of stars. With happy tears in her eyes, Nana kissed Evelyn's cheek and withdrew, taking the maids with her. Hadly paused at the door to smile at Evelyn a last time, then she too was gone.

Clad her in chemise and robe, Evelyn went to a small table, her mass of white curls tumbling around her as she tilted her head to observe its contents. A bottle of wine and two glasses were on the table, as per her request. She had ordered it under the pretense of wishing to share a quiet drink with Dick before their honeymoon truly began. Dick had been no small amount of pleased.

"Good," Dick said, entering the room as if her thoughts had summoned him. He slowly unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his cravat. Like her, he had worn full white to the ceremony. The blank color fairly made his red mane blaze. "Glad to see the wine didn't stain your mane purple," he said, dropping his jacket over a chair as he came to her.

Evelyn tried not to scowl. Curse him for coming before she even put the drug in his glass! With slender fingers, she lifted the wine bottle and filled each glass. "Would you have immediately divorced me?" she teased.

Dick snorted. "Not immediately. Bloke has got to have his wedding night, hasn't he?"

Evelyn smiled mischievously. "Why not . . . drink this in the nude?"

Dick blinked at her. "You're . . . suspiciously adventurous tonight. Isn't marrying me supposed to be the worst thing ever?"

"I'm . . . trying to make it not so worse."

Dick didn't move and eyed her suspiciously. "What about the vixen? Aren't you madly in love with her or something? I thought I'd come up here to find you weeping." He waved a contemptuous paw and moved past her to the bed. Evelyn watched as he sat on the edge and started removing his boots. His burning eyes looked at her, waiting for an answer. Or the inevitable lie.

Evelyn swallowed unhappily and looked at the wine glass in her slender fingers. "It was something that couldn't have been. I know that now. I should have skinned her the first night I captured her. . . ." She looked at Dick carefully. "What became of her? I haven't seen her since . . ." She waited to see if he would feed her a lie. She wasn't surprised when he did.

"She's being kept by Haskell," he said unhappily to his boots. "Charles and I decided it was best if we sold her to some lord or other."

Evelyn smiled sadly: so he had decided to tell her half the truth. She had to commend him for that much. He still hadn't a clue that she was perfectly aware this "lord" was actually the king. She turned her back to him and faced the table. "Good . . ."

"Good?" Dick repeated in disbelief. "Stop pretending, Evie. I know the thing drove you to distraction. She drove me as well. Her and those pert tits."

Evelyn closed her eyes, trying to push away the unsettling thought of Dick sleeping with Lily. Her Lily. But sudden anger rushed through her and she tightened her lips, glad that Dick could not see her face. She could hear him unbuttoning his pants. Taking the opportunity, she discreetly slipped the vial from her cleavage and emptied its contents into the glass she was holding. When she turned to face him again, he was half-nude and unbuttoning his shirt. He cursed at the buttons and a lock of red mane fell in his eyes.

Evelyn shook her head and smiled. "You're completely hopeless without Haskell. Can you really not undress yourself?" She came to him, and passing him the wine glass, unbuttoned his shirt for him. She held back a smirk when he drank deeply from the glass.

"Mmm . . ." Dick said and narrowed his eyes. "This tastes . . ."

"Imported from the desert," Evelyn said over him.

"Ah, greyhounds. They can't do anything, even mix proper bloody wine." He shook his head as if shaking off water, and swaying slightly, reached past Evelyn to set the glass down.

Evelyn smiled: it was already kicking in. "There we go," she muttered, pealing his shirt off for him. The muscles of his bare chest were curved with shadows in the candlelight. She smoothed her small paw over his pectorals, silently admiring and hating herself for it. She could feel his eyes on her, and when she glanced up, his gaze was gentle and warm. It startled her and her lashes fluttered.

"Evelyn . . ." he whispered hoarsely and touched her cheek. "I know you don't want this . . . but I've dreamt of it . . . I've dreamt of it for years."

Evelyn lowered her eyes unhappily. "Don't, Richie. Let's just . . . get this over with."

She didn't see the hurt in his eyes when she spoke those words. Sex with him was something to "get over with." He looked at her a moment, his eyes pained. But he swallowed and nodded. She didn't protest when he pealed off her robe. It fell to the carpet around her small feet. He tugged uncertainly at the strap of her chemise and muttered that the damn thing had always confounded him. She laughed girlishly and started to pull it over her head, but he stopped her. He looked at her lips, then kissed her tenderly. As he gently tasted her, his paws smoothed up her body, over her breasts, pushing the chemise to her shoulders they went. He broke the kiss to tug it over her head, and her curls tossed as he let it drop.

"You are absolutely stunning," he whispered, looking at her with glowing eyes. He barely seemed to notice when she pushed him down on the bed. He flopped on the edge, looking up at her as she straddled his lap. She knelt over him, curls tumbling as she looked into his eyes . . . and kissed him softly.

"Mm . . ." Dick pulled away and studied her face uncertainly. He frowned. "You really want . . . ? With me?" He swallowed hopefully.

A small piece of her died inside when she looked him in the eye and lied, "With you."

Dick smiled. "I never thought . . ." He shook his head. "You don't even like males. How . . .?" His words trailed into silence and she saw his eyes slip out of focus. Before he could recover, she cupped his face and kissed him again. Her generous cleavage crushed his chest, and she felt the slap of his organ as he hardened under her.

Evelyn suddenly felt nervous and her lashes fluttered uncertainly. She had never been with a male before. But the look on Dick's face read utter devotion: anything she did, he was bound to enjoy. She smiled at him, and wrapping her slender arms around his neck, slowly brought herself down on his erection. She gasped and her eyes flew wide as the thickness of his desire stretched her taunt. She had never guessed it was so . . . deliciously big. She still hadn't even looked at it.

Dick moaned. "Oh . . . Oh, Evelyn. Make love to me . . ." He buried kisses in her cleavage, then looked at her helplessly and kissed her mouth. His big paws closed in fistfuls under her tail and squeezed. She felt herself going red. "Make love to me . . ." he whispered again. "Evelyn . . . I love you."

The words almost brought tears to her eyes. She pushed him down on the bed, and taking his paws, she rode him . . . sweetly and slowly. It brought her pleasures she had never dreamt of, and she gasped and heaved to catch her breath, startled by it all as her big breasts rode with every twist of her hips. He lay beneath her and looked at her the entire time, helpless as a pup. She looked at him and pitied him. This deception would cut like a knife in the morning, when he awoke . . . and she was gone.