Chapter 4: The Summer Solstice Celebration
Sunset settled at the edge of the meadow with its rays of orange, yellow and red illuminating the manor. Master Paul stood on the balcony of his room and watched as the sun slumbered beneath the meadow. The lights that the staff had intertwined into the trees glowed as a beacon to the guests that would soon follow the nightfall. It was the night of his annual Summer Solstice celebration, a tradition that began with his grandfather and he continued not out of wanting, but out of duty. Master Paul dreaded this celebration each year knowing that not only did he have to entertain those he did not care for, but also listen to the incessant complaints from his mother of how he could have planned a celebration more worthy of the family's name.
Pulling in a deep draw of the summer night's air, Master Paul returned to his room to dress for the evening. He had suggested to his mother that the celebration become more of a casual affair, allowing guests to wear clothing more comfortable. She of course, disagreed with his suggestion and he dropped the subject once again. His mother was what some called a bitch. She was impatient and cruel, never showing her son any affection and once ruled the manor with a heavy fist. The staff at the manor never lasted long when she lived there and those who did had a sigh of relief when she passed the manor onto Master Paul and moved to the family estate in the northwest. He too, had a sigh of relief when his mother left the manor.
Opening his wardrobe, Master Paul looked at the garments that hung within, pushing the padded hangers back and forth along the rail. Nothing that hung there pleased him. He shut the wardrobe and moved to his bed. The summer night's breeze blew into the room carrying on its gentle tendrils the scent of the wild flowers in the meadow. His thoughts ran amuck with Isabella lying in the wild flowers. He remembered how they surrounded her luscious figure as she lay there, blindfolded, helpless and beckoning him to take her. He could still feel her silky skin on his hands, her aroma in his nose, her breath in his ear and her taste on his lips; he craved to have his senses filled with her again.
Forcing the memory of Isabella from his head, Master Paul stood and returned to his wardrobe opening it and grabbing the first garment his hand touched. "Fate, you decide what I am to wear," he said out loud, knowing his wardrobe was chocked full of suits, sports coats and slacks. He chuckled to himself when he pulled out a purple cotton button down shirt and jeans. "Fate, are you telling me something? Mother is going to love this," and he gleefully pulled on the jeans and shirt.
One final glance into his mirror, he ruffled his hair slightly and began the tedious walk down the corridor to face his mother and arriving guests. A smirk of defiance spread across his chiseled face and thoughts of Isabella returned.
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Isabella and the other staff members had worked for many days preparing the manor for tonight's celebration. They had cleaned, cooked, and meticulously followed every instruction Master Paul had given them knowing that it was not his wrath they had to fret about, but that of his mother. The staff anticipated snide remarks and belittlement by Master Paul's mother; it was common knowledge that she was a malicious and callous woman very few people could tolerate.
Isabella stood on the main patio that lead into the ballroom gazing at the lights in the trees, and marveled at how they appeared to be stars against the blackness of the night sky. The patio was bustling with staff members putting the final touches in place. The small round tables were covered with white linen clothes; crystal glasses and bone china dishes encircled the tables waiting for the guests to arrive. A bar stood at one corner of the patio, the bartender checking the glasses and wiping any fingerprints that may have escaped the dishwasher from them and placing them in the rack, which hung above his head. In the other corner was a small quartet of stringed instruments, each player tuning his device.
She strode past the tables, the bartender and the quartet and entered the ballroom through the large doors that opened onto the patio. The room was lined with tall candlesticks, each one containing a large candle that burned brightly. Smaller candles stood within the windowsills, their flames dancing upon the glass. The crystal chandeliers that hung from the ceiling had been turned low as to allow the candles to drape the room with a sense of romance. Isabella knew that this night would not allow romance to enter, it would be filled with discomfort and agony as she would watch her Master parade through the crowd, money hungry women enwrapping themselves around him, and his mother degrading him.
Isabella looked up at the clock, which hung above the entryway to the ballroom, realizing that the guests would be arriving soon and she still needed to dress. Master Paul had delivered to her bedroom a luxurious silk gown the day before with a note instructing her to wear the gown and to welcome the guests to the manor as they arrived. As she entered her room, the scent of the flowers that were sprayed throughout filled her senses and her thoughts of her Master. She hurried as she slipped the gown over her head, its softness flowing down her body. It was a shade of soft pink; thin straps clung to her shoulders, the front bodice the shape of a heart pressing her voluptuous breasts together, her curves accentuated by the masterful seamstress who created the gown. Turning her back towards the mirror, she was delighted in the way the back of the dress dropped to the edge of her curvaceous buttocks, fitting firmly against them. She gave a little shake and giggled, "If Master Paul does not appreciate this, I know someone will."
She pulled her mane of red hair upon her head, securing it with a clip filled with silk flowers and circlets fell around her face. Sparingly she applied mascara and some blush to her face, and lined her lips with a soft shade of pink gloss. Smiling at herself in the mirror, she now gazed upon a beauty that just moments ago was a weary woman. Isabella immersed herself in her vanilla body spray and headed down the corridor to greet the guests. She was a few minutes late, but she did not mind and felt that her Master would be too busy entertaining to notice that she was not there promptly at the time he had chosen for her. With her head held high, the silk dress flowing along her body, and feeling beautiful, Isabella entered the ballroom.
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Master Paul stood at the entryway greeting his guests as they arrived. His guests included some of the wealthiest people in the area, some celebrities, old family friends and acquaintances, and women who pursued him relentlessly. He never invited these women, but his mother would send out her own invitations and request their presence due to their family status in the hopes that her son would take an interest in one. His mother stood beside him, grimacing at his appearance and making comments under her breath. Master Paul smiled and nodded as the guests passed by shaking hands, tuning out their conversations and his mother's complaints, keeping his eye on the clock and waiting for his sweet Isabella to arrive. He was anxious to see her in the gown he had given her.
While carrying a conversation with a business associate, Master Paul looked over the gentleman's shoulder and saw Isabella as she came from the corridor. His heart skipped, his breathing slowed and he stood in awe with his mouth open; she looked ravishing. The gentleman he was speaking with noticed Master Paul's sudden silence and turned to see what he was staring at, he too, had his breath taken when he saw the enchantress before them. Both men stood as statues as Isabella walked past them, smiling, her vanilla aroma filling their noses and purposely swinging her hips allowing her dress to flow across her buttocks. Master Paul watched as she started greeting his guests, gently laughing at well-placed humor and attending to the guests needs. All eyes were on Isabella and he felt his desire for her grow as he watched her.
Isabella observed Master Paul diligently viewing her and his mother must have realized the same thing. Master Paul's mother had grabbed him by the arm turning him to face her. Isabella noticed that she had placed a finger under his chin forcing him to look at her while her grip was fastened on his arm and she began badgering Master Paul.
Master Paul's mother in a hushed, stern voice asked, "What are you looking at Paul?"
"Nothing mother. Just making sure that the guests are being attended too," he answered.
"It's that servant girl, isn't it? That woman?"
"No mother, just making sure the guests are having their needs met."
