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The Mansion

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RainingHeat said:
yeah, being sick is never fun... meds are a good thing.. (was at the dr Friday that is how sick I was... ick)
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Yeeeah, I never want to go to the doctor. It's like trying to get me to go see my dentist. I dig my heels in all the way there. But I'm glad you're feeling better, hon.
 
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Hey pretty lady, hope you're doing well. :rose:

*leaves her a new cup for her collection*

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Between the barn and his quarter, he was always busy. A maid would be snatched up now and again only to emerge later at some ungodly hour, rumpled and smiling. Giggling, oft, with red cheeks and tattered clothes. His appetites and brutish nature were such of legend. An eccentric, unpredictable, and thorough scoundrel. The evidence of his haunting never entirely left the manse.

The tulips on the counter saw fit of that.
 
Light Ice said:
Between the barn and his quarter, he was always busy. A maid would be snatched up now and again only to emerge later at some ungodly hour, rumpled and smiling. Giggling, oft, with red cheeks and tattered clothes. His appetites and brutish nature were such of legend. An eccentric, unpredictable, and thorough scoundrel. The evidence of his haunting never entirely left the manse.

The tulips on the counter saw fit of that.
Click to expand...

There was a soft knock on her study door. An absentminded answer to come in was given. The girl's soft voice announced she was done for the day. Cait turned from her computer to look at the girl, one who was rumpled, hair a mess and rosy cheeks.

I just bet she is done for the day.

Again words from the girl, something about the resident in the barn.

"Barn? What barn? I have a barn?"

A brief flick of the hand in dismissal and the girl was sent away for the day. Getting up from her chair, Cait stretched then moved to the sliding glass door, opening it before stepping out onto the lanai. Shielding her eyes from the setting sun, she gazed toward the back of the garden. Well, hells bells, there was a barn back there. Curiosity bit at her. Following its urging she moved toward the barn, leaving her footprints behind in the recently watered grass by way of trodden green blades.

She set an ear to the closed door, but heard naught. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. A hand raised to knock on the door and paused.

Why was she going to knock on her own property?

From the maid's words, she knew who was using the barn but what she couldn't figure out, was why. What was he up to now? Fingers curled around the handle and gave a small test. Locked. Figures. She wrinkled her nose and paced back to the back porch and the back door that led to the kitchen. The back door was opened, allowing her to slip inside. A cold glass of water was what she was after. The tulips on the counter halted her progression. Her lips twitched into a soft smile. His timing was impeccable. Today, she could use a smile. Small. Subtle. And absolutely perfect. The water was obtained. The tulips gathered and set in a vase, taken back to the study and both set on the desk as she turned her attention back to working on an opening post for a new thread.
 
The world sleeps and she can not so off to her study to read and formulate. She is almost done with the post for a new thread so it is there she will begin and if the night still rides hard on her shoulders, she'll start a reply for he-who-is-never-seen.
 
Found this...the sheer grace of it, the hair and the season made me think instantly of you! :rose:

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Things in the barn are moving quickly. Too quickly, maybe, now that he's caught wind of the mistress of the house snooping about. The building itself is large enough to attract attention but unassuming in its architecture. Still, having erected it himself, there's a certain pride in having hid it for so long. It was inevitable she'd notice sooner or later.

Distractions are, regardless their construction, temporary.

He emerges from the place looking rougher than he has in recent months. Unshaven, whirls of dark hair collected along the hard line of his jaw and stubble bridging across his upper lip. There's a wolfish cast to him as he stalks along up towards the main house. Straight-legged denim, dark and well-washed, over battered western boots. A red and brown flannel button up with the sleeves rolled high on sinuously-muscled arms. Polo, while elegant, was his favorite brand. The shirts were cut to fit his broad shoulders and tapered waist. They were built to take a beating.

His hair was shaggy and unkept but he'd clippers to see to that soon. Maybe, just maybe, he'd rope a maid into the mix and put her to work.

Into the main house he went, door left swung open in his wake. There was a recklessness to his roguish tread. A disconcern. He found the bottles in the kitchen and tugged a favorite from within. He settled on ice from the fridge and pulled a stool up to the breakfast counter.

He'd news to break to her.

He'd imagine she'd be pleased.
 
Light Ice said:
Things in the barn are moving quickly. Too quickly, maybe, now that he's caught wind of the mistress of the house snooping about. The building itself is large enough to attract attention but unassuming in its architecture. Still, having erected it himself, there's a certain pride in having hid it for so long. It was inevitable she'd notice sooner or later.

Distractions are, regardless their construction, temporary.

He emerges from the place looking rougher than he has in recent months. Unshaven, whirls of dark hair collected along the hard line of his jaw and stubble bridging across his upper lip. There's a wolfish cast to him as he stalks along up towards the main house. Straight-legged denim, dark and well-washed, over battered western boots. A red and brown flannel button up with the sleeves rolled high on sinuously-muscled arms. Polo, while elegant, was his favorite brand. The shirts were cut to fit his broad shoulders and tapered waist. They were built to take a beating.

His hair was shaggy and unkept but he'd clippers to see to that soon. Maybe, just maybe, he'd rope a maid into the mix and put her to work.

Into the main house he went, door left swung open in his wake. There was a recklessness to his roguish tread. A disconcern. He found the bottles in the kitchen and tugged a favorite from within. He settled on ice from the fridge and pulled a stool up to the breakfast counter.

He'd news to break to her.

He'd imagine she'd be pleased.
Click to expand...

Her morning had been demanding and finally she was done with obligations and errands. A quick twist of her key in the lock, a slight push of the front door to open it and she was greeted by cool air wafting over her heated skin. Her soft sigh filled the entry way as she entered, tossing her keys in the crystal bowl that rested on a hallway table, set there for just that purpose.

Her body was damp from the heat outside. Her white sleeveless blouse clung to her skin in places. The blouse was buttoned up only as far as the top of her breasts, there, the material parted to each side, the hint of a feminine swell was seen. She didn't do that to be provocative. Provocation was far from her mind. She simply could not stand to have anything up against her throat. A man's hand resting there from time to time, was one thing, but clothing smothered her or so it felt like.

She decided on a shower, but first, something cold to drink. She stooped to draw off her sandals, sliding them under that hallway table before she padded, barefoot, the wood flooring cool and refreshing, into the kitchen.

How she missed him, she didn't know. Odd that. She always knew he was around. Instead, she went straight for a cupboard, withdrew a glass, added ice and water, raising it to her lips as she turned and it was then, she spotted him, sitting there, watching her. She took the sip, letting the cold water slide down her throat. Her brow arched slightly.

"You look rough all over. What brings you up to the house?"

He owed her nothing. She had invited, he took her up on it. He fucked and tormented her maids endlessly. He left her flowers. Cradling the glass in her palm, she leaned against a counter and simply watched him, waiting for him to speak. His room above had been quiet. The noises from the barn he had built, were anything but. Green eyes waited for the words she knew were coming. Acceptance and simply joy for him rested in their depths. Their bond would never be broken, no matter where his feet took him, no matter where she found herself. At least, such was how she felt.

Time waits on no man or woman for that matter. She never tried to define their relationship. He had her back, she had his. Simple as that. If she didn't agree with him, she spoke her mind. He remained tempered with her. If something really bothered him, he'd speak. Bluntly. She would take no personal offense. It simply was his way. Often times, it was a lonely one. He accepted that. She admired him for it.

From time to time, the Winds of Fortune blew them together and what a glorious time those had been. Now, he needed his own place. Space that was solely his. He would always be welcome in the mansion. He knew that. Free to come and go as it pleased him. This was a man who could not be harnessed. He was like the wind. Free. Unfettered. Seeking companionship when he needed it.

Funny thing about the wind. When you least expect it, it could surround you and hold you. It could breathe into you and take you by the hair, make you feel. She had found her breath, her wind, her inspiration, her light and for now and the foreseeable future, she wanted for nothing else or no other.

The man before her people thought of as a son-of-bitch. Cold and uncaring. He could be, she granted that. But for those he loved? And he did love. For those he considered a friend? He was still blunt. Still fire, but tempered, depending on who they were and what they meant to him. She simply adored him and always would.
 
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Everything in life worth while has an end.

It's easy to hold something forever. That's a truth he's known. Much harder, always, is it to go or to let go when the time comes. He's always excelled at the difficult parts of life. There's never been much about hardship that he could not understand or move within. Still, as he watches her work it out in her mind and across the gentle lines of her face, he feels hints of regret at where this course has taken him.

The glass is left upon the table empty besides the bottle that isn't. He crosses the room and, this time, does not hesitate. His arms curl about her little middle and draw her into him. For a moment the clock stops and there's a curtain of red hair and her slight weight. This is a small trespass he takes without apology or explanation. Words, as ever, are feeble things confined to the interpretation of a mind evolved only so far past the baser truths of the human experience.

And then he's walking away from her. The words he does find spoken over a broad shoulder.

"If I'm going to train and care for your horses then I expect free room and board and that one of your girls continues to clean my room." As though it was a negotiation.

She'd find the rose on the stair the next time she went out.
 
Light Ice said:
Everything in life worth while has an end.

It's easy to hold something forever. That's a truth he's known. Much harder, always, is it to go or to let go when the time comes. He's always excelled at the difficult parts of life. There's never been much about hardship that he could not understand or move within. Still, as he watches her work it out in her mind and across the gentle lines of her face, he feels hints of regret at where this course has taken him.

The glass is left upon the table empty besides the bottle that isn't. He crosses the room and, this time, does not hesitate. His arms curl about her little middle and draw her into him. For a moment the clock stops and there's a curtain of red hair and her slight weight. This is a small trespass he takes without apology or explanation. Words, as ever, are feeble things confined to the interpretation of a mind evolved only so far past the baser truths of the human experience.

And then he's walking away from her. The words he does find spoken over a broad shoulder.

"If I'm going to train and care for your horses then I expect free room and board and that one of your girls continues to clean my room." As though it was a negotiation.

She'd find the rose on the stair the next time she went out.
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She remained still as his arms snaked around her. There was nothing to say. Then he was gone. His parting words filled the air as he went. Her chuckle followed him out the door. What he didn't see was the shake of her head and the rolling of her eyes.

Her maids. Oh bloody hell. She could hear it now. The inevitable squabbling over who got to go clean his room. Wait.... her brain started to click around... ROOM? Horses??? When the HELL did she get horses?

She stared at the empty space where he had been, her mouth hanging open... then realizing it was, closed it again. Oh, this she had to go check out. She should have known. When he built the barn, it was going to be more than just a barn. This was Ice. He was good with his hands. He had built her bar down in the entertainment room. It was a work of art. She could only imagine what the barn was like.

Yes. She was going to see this for herself. Later. Much later. Horses were one of her passions. She adored them and riding. With a soft sigh and smile, she took her water and headed back toward the study to do some writing and to pass the time before Papa Bear got home. Passing the staircase on her way back, some bit of color caught her eye on the stairs. Moving in that direction, she simply stared for a moment. Then smiled, reaching down to retrieve the rose, twirling it in her fingers.

Some things apparently, never changed.

He was on the grounds. Never far away but far enough to insure both their privacy. That was good enough for her.
 
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