The Fool Ch. 10

"I've waited a long time for this," he murmured. Not elaborating that it was her complete submission and lack or argument when he had bound her that he had been waiting for. He savoured each sound, each ragged breath and each trembling movement that told of her arousal rather than her exertions from fighting him. He became more aggressive, biting at her soft flesh as his fingers pinched, pulled and twisted the pale pink hard nubs of her nipples. Her whimpers and cries were like the sweetest melody in his ears and, not wanting to wait a moment longer, he knelt between her thighs and thrust into her hard rather than taking the care he would have in a different setting.

The cry that issued from Carrie's lips was somewhere between pleasure and pain as he filled her. Mother nature had eased the passage of him with her excessive heat and wetness through all of the foreplay in this room. Who knew wine, chocolate and flowers, the staples of any romantic occasion, could be used in such a hedonistic way, and she cried out again as he began to fuck her brutally, making the small bench like table rock beneath them. His hand continued to torture her breasts, making the sensations she felt all the more powerful, and she came quickly, feeling her body shudder and pulse in sensory overload.

Sensations overloaded Sinclair in the same way as he heard and saw and felt the woman below him explode in ecstasy, knowing he had given her that, and he joined her offering little resistance as he felt his climax rushing up through his body and he cried out with her. The moment seemed to last for much longer than he knew the reality to be and, when he collapsed over her panting, he undid her hands, wanting to feel her wrapped around him as she normally was at the end of their trysts.

On a sugar high, Carrie recovered quickly and attempted to turn the tables on Sinclair, but he caught her arms, pulling them above her head as they rolled to the floor, and yet another round of teasing, taunting and eventual fucking began again.

The sun had risen when they finally went to shower and leave the hotel room after a night of sleepless passion. Carrie knew she would struggle at work, but had been determined to go in for at least half a day, despite Sinclair's protests. When he dropped her at the museum, she had kissed him and thanked him for an amazing first Valentine's Day.

*****

The Friday following Valentine's day, Carrie left London with her father to meet another member of the family she didn't know she had. Still coming to terms with the fact that she was a Windsor, and what that meant, she had been formulating all the questions she wanted to ask in her mind for days. Once in the quiet confines of the car, however, she found it difficult to voice those questions. Gone was the aloof intellectual University professor and in his place was an imposing aristocrat that seemed to want to claim her as his daughter after a lifetime of barely acknowledging her existence.

"I imagine you have questions, Carrington," he said in a friendly voice, as if wanting to draw her out. "You did say you wanted to spend time with me since my arrival at your engagement party.

"I do," she admitted. "Suddenly I'm not sure where to start though."

"I find it's always helpful to start at the beginning. Tell me about growing up with Robyn, and I will fill in any blanks and answer any questions that come up along the way," he suggested, still using the same friendly amicable tone.

"Surely you know about my childhood; I saw you when I was younger at least once a year," she said, her brow furrowing as she turned to look at him.

"Robyn was a remarkable woman. She was talented and intelligent and had an understated beauty that I found captivating. She and I had a brief relationship, during which she fell pregnant. I offered to marry her to give you a name. I loved her then, I didn't know, or, at least, understand her obsession to see the dangers to you until much later," he admitted.

"I don't understand," Carrie continued to frown.

"Robyn hid the fact that she was driven by a skewed view of the world and loyalty to her family that bordered on obsessive. She knew I was a Windsor and had banked on the fact that I would protect you if her plans to redeem her family's name and place in the Association of Hats went awry," he expanded his explanation. "The marriage was only a piece of paper to her, another step in her and Edith's plan. You see, there is an old addendum to the original agreement of the association members. If a family became estranged from the Hats, they could buy their way back in by procuring a particular item from each of the remaining families."

"Robyn's plan really was her plan," Carrie whispered almost to herself as realisation dawned as she listened. "Edith said it was your plan, or at least the Windsor's plan to restructure the association, which was why we needed the artefacts."

"That had become true of late, though, when my relationship with your mother began we were unaware of the deep rifts and hidden agenda's within the association. That is why I have been summoned to London. Edith has been making demands and threats about the exposure of some of the less altruistic activities of the Hats if we do not hold to our end of the addendum. Once you steal the last piece needed for Jordan to buy his way back into the table, we assume her demands will change again with her ideas on restructuring the association." William was open and honest with Carrie, knowing her to be a shrewd judge of character and speech patterns. "It is in our best interests to go along with Edith's plan for now and then restructure as we see fit once she is dealt with."

"You'd sell your daughter into marriage to a practically incestuous relationship just to appease a little old lady like Edith?" Carrie asked, horrified her fears about Jordan becoming stronger ever since the revelations and breaking down of the last barriers between her and Sinclair that Valentine's Day had wrought.

"I'd what?" William spluttered. "Sinclair is no direct relation, at least not enough to make your relationship incestuous."

"Jordan, Edith says I must marry Jordan to make the family line complete so he can take his chair at the table," she said angrily. "They have threatened Sinclair's life. They ran him over with a motorcycle because I wasn't toeing the line." Tears glistened in Carrie's eyes with the weight of emotion she felt about the accident and Jordan's continued threats against Sinclair.

"That has nothing to do with the plans of my family. As far as I am concerned you are free to marry whomever you like. The Bonnet's, though, have always had their own agenda, and you being part of my family is no doubt part of that agenda," he said, considering the information.

Carrie sat in silence. The man beside her sounded so rational and reasonable, and she found herself getting angry that he had left her in the hands of a woman whose love was conditional on Carrie's obedience and performance in this plan.

"You must have known that Robyn kept me isolated and was training me to be the master thief who would take those objects from the association," she accused. "Yet you let her use me like that."

"Do you honestly think, knowing your mother's opinion of me, that she would have shared any of her plans with me?" he asked, his voice colouring with some emotion for the first time. "She covered her tracks well. She sent me pictures and report cards of you every year when you were younger, these became less as you got older. She also made it harder and harder for me to see you. I guess I believed it was for the best, because, each time I saw you, you seemed happy and well adjusted. I never questioned that you were well cared for, I had no reason to at the time. She even hid her illness, and when the thefts began to create a pattern I assumed it was her, you were so young. When she died, you refused to see me, even at her funeral. At least, that is what Edith had told me, and I didn't want to upset you any further at the time."

"So why now? Why seek me out now?" Carrie wasn't convinced by his words.

"The theft from Rackham after your mother's death made me realise just how wrong I have been and I have been playing a catch me if you can game with Edith and her cronies. Now that I know the truth and have had the opportunity to see just what a strong and intelligent woman you have grown up to be, I think Edith may just have outlived her usefulness as a go-between. Any further threats she makes will be dealt with differently," William seemed to consider the stories his daughter had been told, not only about the association, but himself.

They continued to talk as they drove. Carrie desperately wanted to believe what William was saying to her, but a lifetime of believing him to be nothing more than an uncaring sperm donor kept her from embracing it as the truth. When they pulled up at a country house, she was still deep in thought and took a moment to take in the quaint surroundings. This was far removed from the affluent lifestyle of Sinclair and the other association members she had been associating with lately, and it took her by surprise.

Carrie sat immobile and was startled when William opened her door for her. Taking his hand, she got out of the car. Feeling as if she had been in a dream, nothing about what he said made sense or rang true for her, and she wondered where they were and why. She became suddenly worried that she had so willingly left the city with a man she barely knew, let alone called father.

William entered the house without knocking and looked into the front room, finding no one. Raising his voice, he called out into the dimness, "Mother?"

"No need to shout, I'm old, not deaf," a tall, regal looking woman appeared in the hallway leaning on a cane. "I see you brought her, good boy, now run along and let us girls get acquainted."

"Maybe I should make introductions first?" he suggested, stepping between his mother and the confused looking young woman who was his daughter.

"We are more than capable of having a conversation without your interfering," she chided him. "Come forward so I can see you, Carrington."

Carrie took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She was a strong, capable, independent woman, and she was certainly not intimidated by the likes of the old woman standing before them.

"It's fine, William. I am delighted to find out I have another grandmother. I'm sure I can manage a simple conversation without a chaperone," she laughed lightly and touched his arm. Her easy manner belied the anxiousness tinged with anger that twisted her stomach at finding out she had an extended family who had never bothered to find or interact with her before now.

He looked between the two women and reluctantly walked from the house. Carrie watched him go, hoping that he wouldn't leave her stranded here, and felt for her phone in her coat pocket. Sinclair would drop everything to come and get her if she needed, she was sure of that. It was nice to feel so sure about at least one person in her life. Since her mother's death, she had been cast adrift time after time by the machinations of those she would have been able to trust and rely on. How much worse could anything this old woman had to say be than everything else she had endured in the last year.

"You have your phone and escape route planned, I trust," the old woman cackled and indicated that Carrie should follow her.

"It's always good to have an alternate exit strategy, and if I negate the use of your cane I think I could take you," Carrie said casually to see what reaction she would get.

"You show promise, but it's always best not to give your plans away so early when meeting a potential new friend," she paused and looked up at Carrie, her eyes as cold as ice. "Or an enemy."

"Maybe I prefer to believe that, as my grandmother, you would at least be a frenemy," Carrie took the indicated seat across the small kitchen table from her grandmother. She noted that a perfect English tea had been laid on the table, complete with a three-tiered serving plate holding delectable morsels of food.

"Tea?" the woman offered, "Or do you prefer coffee?" she indicated an old fashioned percolator sitting on the bench warming freshly brewed rich smelling, dark coffee.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you," Carrie said, letting her lips curl into a polite smile. "Would you like me to call you Grandmother, or do you have another name? When I looked into my father's family history, his parents were listed as deceased, so I am assuming you are not Alice Wordsworth."

"No, I am not, but it is a shame you didn't get to meet her, she was a lovely woman. You may call me grandmother, or CC, as it may become confusing if you call me by my given name, Carrington."

"How would that be confusing?" Carrie asked, not understanding what the woman had said.

"I think you misunderstood me. You were named after me, and I have found when discussing you that it can be unsettling, if not confusing, to have two Carrington's in the conversation, let alone the room." The woman gave her first small smile.

"Oh, I see," Carrie said with a frown. "Most people call me Carrie, if that helps at all."

"I would rather not. Carrington is a family name, and I would rather leave it unsullied by such shortenings of it," she said sternly. "It has been difficult for me to stay silent through your life and allow such a travesty to occur, but, thankfully, as insane as your mother became with her plans against the association fed by the lies of your grandmother and her cronies, she attempted to keep the name in its original form."

"Wait! What?" Carrie spluttered, as once again she found that people knew about her upbringing and did nothing to help her celebrate a single Christmas or birthday. She felt her anger rise again.

"You don't think I would have left a grandchild of mine unattended, do you?" the older woman questioned.

"Unattended?" Carrie was speechless.

"You grew up in an atmosphere that may not have conformed to the societal norms, but you were happy. You loved your mother and your tutors. You became an intelligent, highly accomplished young woman in a way that could never have happened without your mother's drive and commitment to her foolhardy plan. Had I been concerned for your health or overall well-being I would have stepped in, but, despite everything, you matured into a lovely young woman who would never be taken advantage of by the unscrupulous." She paused and took a sip of her tea, allowing Carrie to speak, if she wished.

"You knew about Robyn's plans?" Carrie asked in astonishment. "William said he didn't know about my education or upbringing."

"There was no need to have your father charging in there and demanding custody. Men can be so stupidly protective at times. Trust me when I say that there is little we, my sisters and I, don't know, and, to tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if Robyn could do it, but you are quite an amazing young woman," the old woman acknowledged. "You've made me proud with the way you have handled yourself over the years and how you are trying to deal with the truths you have discovered since your mother's death."

"It's been a hell of a year," Carrie admitted. "It seems that every time I turn around someone is telling me what I have to do to ensure I have a future where someone I love doesn't die because of my actions," her voice held the anger she had been suppressing in the car with William.

"Yes, after seeing the reports on your activities in the Caribbean I knew it was time to act. Let me tell you the story of the Bonnet family, as I know it, and you can judge if I speak the truth for yourself," the old woman offered and waited for Carrie's assent before beginning her tale.

"Okay," Carrie hesitated. "As long as you tell me the story of the Wordsworth's as well and how they are intertwined in me."

"Of course, Carrington, for the stories are all intertwined now," she smiled benignly and took a small cake from the tea tray. "It was your many times removed Windsor grandfather who started the association, when Lord Windsor, was appointed to become governor of Jamaica just before the Golden Age of Piracy," she began the tale from the beginning of how these families all became intertwined and reliant on each other.

Carrie knew how the association was formed, but it was interesting to hear it from the view of the Windsor side of the story and the people who ultimately gave the orders and pulled the strings of the lesser members. She had known that slave trading had occurred during this time, but from Sinclair's point of view they had not endorsed nor aided in the sale of human beings. To hear her grandmother, tell the tale, half of the table made great fortunes from the practice while the other half opposed the practice, with only a few staying neutral.

"As time went on and the trade became less prolific, some families sought out other buyers while others disbanded the practice completely. This led to a rift in the association fuelled by long-held family feuds. Most of the descendants of those original men of the association remained unknown and shrouded in anonymity, with only one direct male heir linking them to the other families at an annual gathering hosted by the descendants of Lord Windsor.

"Each family sought to throw off the yoke of the Windsors by linking themselves to world powers and organisations who influenced those world powers so that the Windsors had little more than a traditional power amongst the group, or so it seemed. In truth, they always held power with the world leaders and, while the name may give the impression of links to royalty, it is merely a happy circumstance that they don't disabuse amongst the members of the association."

She went on to explain that the tentacles of the organisation known as the Windsors by the association were known by many names worldwide. They were, for want of a better analogy, the shadows behind the playmakers and the seats of power in countries labelled western, eastern and even middle eastern civilisations.

"As the saying goes, behind every great man stands a great woman," she paused, letting that statement sink in. "You can be one of those great women, Carrington. Despite your mother's strange maternal practices and unwavering belief in Florence and Edith's dream of re-establishing their family and name amongst the rich and power men of the association, she brought you up strong, independent and clever like a fox."

"That doesn't make sense," Carrie shook her head. "The first Earl and the resolute rule that only male heirs can sit at the table of the Hats."

"Men," she rolled her eyes. "So easily corrupted and manipulated. So many men more than willing to make a grab at power, but those who wield true power, those who would make the world a better place, are not the ones in the news singing their praises, they are the ones who know where the power lies and respect it."

"I'm not sure I understand what you're saying and how it affects me," Carrie said.

"Don't start playing the fool now, Carrington," the old woman admonished.

"Fine, but if you have been watching the last year of my life as closely as you say, then you should understand why I would be sceptical of your assertion that I could be a great woman on the world stage. What do I have to do? Steal something? Smuggle information? Assassinate someone? There's always something." Carrie said flippantly. "My life is one long absurd blackmail list. What is it you want from me?" Carrie let the derision drip from her words.

"It's what I can do for you, my dear," the old woman cackled, "Though I fully understand your scepticism."

"Oh, and what can you possibly do for me, aside of what everyone in my life attempts to do?" anger tainted the question making it sound venomous.