Double Take

DoubleTake

Double Take

The early morning sunlight filtered into the ornate bedroom, glinting off the countless crystals of the chandelier overhead. Beneath the Egyptian cotton sheets, Dorothea began to stir, blinking awake to meet the demands of another day. As the mansion's staff began their work, the comforting sounds of life starting up roused her fully. She stretched languorously before rising to part the heavy drapes at the nearby window, gazing out on the panoramic views of the countryside the family estate commanded from its hilltop perch.

Another day in paradise, she mused cynically, turning from the window with a sigh. At 27 years old, the life of an idle rich socialite was growing exceedingly dull. With a fortune at her fingertips, she wanted for nothing, yet felt continually unfulfilled. If only she had someone to share these gilded cages of wealth and privilege with, she thought. A partner to take on the world with...

A sharp rap at the bedroom door scattered her wistful imaginings of romance. "Miss Van Houten?" came her lady's maid's voice. "Will you be wanting your breakfast now?"

"No, just coffee, Clara," Dorothea replied. "I'm meeting Mother for brunch downtown."

As she readied herself for the day, Dorothea's thoughts returned to the question that had occupied her mind lately - why she had to remain single when her twin sister Diana had happily snagged a handsome husband last year. Not that vain, superficial Diana and her dull financier Brandon were exactly #relationshipgoals. But still.

Dorothea arrived at the posh Royal Bistro right on time, immediately spotting her mother, Lady Eleanor Van Houten, seated at their usual table. As she settled in across from her, a waiter swooped by to take her order.

"The Belgium waffles, please James," she smiled. As soon as he retreated, Dorothea raised a questioning eyebrow at her mother. "Well you're looking rather self-satisfied this morning, Mother dear. Dare I ask or shall I just read about it in the society pages?"

Lady Eleanor tutted at her daughter's sarcasm. "Must you take that tone? As it happens, I do have some rather exciting news." She paused, smiling smugly. "Your father has asked Charles Davenport to take a position as VP in the European headquarters. He'll be working quite closely with your father on some ambitious new acquisitions. We intend to have him stay in our guest cottage - God knows we have the room..."

Dorothea nearly choked on her fresh orange juice as Lady Eleanor nattered on about their incoming house guest. Charles Davenport! Here! Even in this insular social bubble they inhabited, Charles' reputation as a shrewd and successful young capitalist preceded him. And with his reported charm, ambition and jet-setting lifestyle, he had remained an elusive bachelor catch in their circles.

Dorothea collected herself, trying not burst into a fit of giddy laughter at this fortuitous turn. Oh yes, this could get very interesting, she thought, already contemplating how she could use this to her advantage over her twin. Let the games begin!

***

Dorothea swept into the sumptuous living room and paused to take in the scene. Sunlight glinted off the grand piano's glossy ebony surface while house staff circulated with elegant trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres to entertain their elite guests. She noted an equal mixture of her father Roger Van Houten's business associates and her mother's society friends mingling. And at the center of it all stood the guest of honor himself, holding court in his impeccably tailored suit.

"Dorothea darling!" trilled Lady Eleanor, gliding over in a cloud of Chanel No.5. "Come meet Charles, he already has such exciting plans to overhaul Roger's European team..."

As Dorothea allowed herself to be led through the well-heeled crowd toward him, she felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. Up close, Charles Davenport was even more handsome than his press photos suggested. Over six feet tall, with thick dark hair graying stylishly at the temples and eyes the piercing blue of a husky, he exuded confidence and old world charm. She extended her hand in greeting.

"Miss Van Houten, pleasure to meet you," Charles intoned deeply with a dazzling smile as he raised her hand to his mouth for a lingering kiss. Behind her, Dorothea heard her mother preen over this display of gallant manners. But Dorothea barely registered Eleanor's babbling, meeting Charles' intense gaze, something electric passing between them. She had a feeling this man could prove rather dangerous for her composure and peace of mind...

***

Dorothea wandered the resplendent gardens as the soiree wound down, the setting sun casting the world in a romantic golden glow. She inhaled the perfumed scent of the ornamental flowers as she strolled past the burbling marble fountain at the center. Pausing by a vine-covered arbor, she closed her eyes for a moment to soak it all in.

"Miss Van Houten?"

She turned with a start to see Charles approaching, looking unfairly striking with his rakishly loosened tie and shirtsleeves rolled up. He came closer and she caught a hint of the spice and woods scent of his no doubt obscenely expensive cologne.

"Mr. Davenport," she replied, a little breathlessly. "Are you enjoying the gardens?"

"Immensely. You have spectacular grounds here," he nodded, glancing around appreciatively before focusing intently on her. Even in the cooling dusk, Dorothea suddenly felt almost too warm.

"Please, call me Dorothea," she said softly. An intriguing smile curved Charles' lips.

"Only if you call me Charles..." He moved closer and reached out to gently cup an errant strand of her long blonde hair between his fingers in a familiar gesture that made Dorothea's breath catch. She gazed up at him for a suspended moment, heart suddenly racing as she thought, Is this really happening...?

"Until next time...Dorothea," Charles murmured before slowly releasing her hair and walking off, leaving Dorothea staring wistfully after him. She had a feeling she was already in danger of losing her heart and soul to this man. And they'd only just met! She could only imagine what further time spent together might do, what simmering unspoken attraction might unfold between them...

Dorothea leaned against the marble pillar of the portico, swirling the champagne idly in its delicate flute as she gazed out over the party. Chinese lanterns bobbed gently in the breeze, illuminating the expertly manicured gardens. Wait staff in crisp white suits circulated with trays laden with canapes and cocktails while the string quartet in the corner played a lilting waltz. It was the annual Midsummer's Eve garden party at the van Houten estate, the social highlight of the season.

Yet Dorothea felt detached from the gaiety surrounding her as her thoughts centered on just one man - the ever charming and enigmatic Charles Davenport. In the month since he had taken up residence in their guest cottage while preparing for his Vice Presidency role abroad, he had proven an intriguing fixation for Dorothea. They had fallen into an unspoken game where casual touches would linger a heartbeat too long or their eyes would catch and hold across a room. It was a tantalizing dance of potential romance...if only she could get him alone.

As if summoned by her very thoughts, Charles materialized then at her side. "Dorothea," he greeted warmly, "You look absolutely stunning tonight."

A thrill ran through her at both his sudden presence and the appreciative once-over he gave her figure-hugging silk gown. Meeting his striking blue eyes, shadowed alluringly in the lantern light, she felt her pulse quicken.

"Why Charles, don't you look dashing yourself," she returned coyly. "I dare say half the ladies here would give up their trust funds to catch that handsome bachelor attention of yours."

He flashed her a roguish grin. "And which half would you be in, my dear?"

Dorothea held his playfully challenging stare. "Oh I never reveal my cards that easily, Mr. Davenport..."

Just then, Diana appeared at Charles' other elbow, draping herself over him familiarly. "There you are Charles! You simply must try the lobster arancini, it's divine..." As she steered him toward the buffet, she tossed a smug smile at her twin. Dorothea fumed silently as she watched them meander away, jealousy burning through her. This stirred her competitive instincts like nothing else. She had to act fast...

Later, Dorothea managed to maneuver Charles into a moonlit stroll away from the party. As they meandered down a garden path bordered by towering hedges, she asked coyly, "Was my sister bothering you terribly back there?"

Charles shrugged noncommittally, hands in his pockets. "Diana has been quite attentive since my arrival. As have you..." He slanted her a knowing look and Dorothea felt her breath hitch at the clear invitation in his eyes.

Driven by long suppressed longing, she closed the distance between them, gazing up at him for a heated moment. Then she seized his loosened tie and pulled his mouth down to hers in a passionate kiss. For endless moments they remained suspended in the intimacy of the embrace before slowly drawing apart, eyes still closed as if clinging to the magic.

When Dorothea finally met his darkened gaze again, Charles gave her a dangerous smile that made her shiver with promise. "I was beginning to wonder, my dear, which of Van Houten sisters I might prefer. But I rather think you just settled the question..."

Dorothea gazed pensively out the window of the Bentley as Charles' driver wound them up the coastline highway. Late August sunshine glinted off the azure water stretching endlessly to the horizon on their right. She still couldn't quite believe she had agreed to this weekend getaway with Charles to his private villa on the Côte d’Azur. If anyone discovered their trip, scandal was sure to erupt around her already controversial suitor.

When Charles had invited her just days ago, it had seemed deliciously reckless - the perfect cap to the breathless affair they had carried on all summer. Stolen kisses in the estate's gardens, secret late night meetings in his guest cottage, indecent suggestions whispered in her ear at charity galas... Dorothea thrilled at it all.

But now misgivings began to creep in through her giddiness. Where exactly was this intimacy hurtling toward? Charles Davenport, for all his mystique, was still essentially an employee of her father’s. And while Dorothea relished this rebellion against the rigid social order she inhabited, she wasn’t foolish enough to imagine a future contained it. Not with a man so committed to chasing deals and fortunes across continents. Her reputation tattered and alone was a real possibility here...

Lost in thought, Dorothea didn’t notice they had arrived until Charles was opening her door, the magnificent modern villa sprawling out behind him toward the glittering sea.

“Welcome to Château Davenport,” he pronounced indulgently. As the staff emerged to whisk their bags inside, Charles drew her toward him. “I’ve been longing to get you all to myself,” he murmured against her neck, lips grazing a sensitive spot that made her shiver. Still, bittersweet doubt lingered amidst the desire. Sensing her tension, he pulled back to study her face.

“Dorothea?” he questioned, brow furrowing. “Having second thoughts?”

Dorothea wavered, thrown by the uncertainty she read in his intense expression now too. Could it be the unflappable Charles Davenport actually cared what she felt beyond physical attraction? That he feared losing her good opinion if this weekend crossed a line? Dorothea realized then they stood at a precipice - to turn back to safer shores or else plunge together into the unknown...

She smiled up at him resolutely then, the adventurer in her winning out. “Absolutely no second thoughts,” she asserted, pulling his mouth firmly down to hers once more.

Dorothea awoke slowly, stretching beneath the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets. For a moment, she forgot where she was as she blinked into the bright Mediterranean sunlight filtering through gauzy curtains. Then yesterday came flooding back - the breathless ride up the coast, arriving in paradise at Charles’ spectacular villa, glasses of crisp rosé at sunset on the terrace overlooking the sea...then getting thoroughly lost in each other’s arms through the night.

Dorothea reached her hand out reflexively to the other side of the enormous bed only to find it empty. Her heart sank slightly. She couldn’t deny a small part hoped the cold light of day wouldn’t make Charles regret their night of passion. Throwing on one of the plush robes hanging in the elaborate en suite marble bath, she padded downstairs toward the aroma of coffee.

She found Charles out on the sunny terrace overlooking the sea, looking casually elegant with the top buttons of his shirt undone and sleeves rolled up as he read the newspaper. Two places were set with platters of croissants, fruit and cheeses. He rose with a smile as she approached and pulled out a chair.

“Good morning, my dear. I thought we could have a relaxing start to the day.”

Charles proved to be an attentive host as they lingered over the meal, keeping her coffee cup full and inquiring about how she slept. If he had any qualms about their change in relationship, he concealed it masterfully. Still, as Dorothea requestioned the wisdom of being here alone with him, one question burned on her mind.

“Was last night...alright?” she finally ventured. “Only, you have rather more experience than me in these matters. I confess I was quite overwhelmed.” A charming grin lit his face at this.

“My darling, last night was exquisite,” he assured her. “In fact...” Here he paused, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes that surprised her. “I don’t know when I’ve felt such a connection before.”

Dorothea glowed under his meaningful look, relieved. Impulsively she rose from her chair to settle on his lap, scattering wild berries and silverware. As she wound her arms around his neck, she teased: “Well, let’s see if we can make tonight even better then...”

****

Over the next few days, they settled into an easy rhythm in their private paradise by the sea. Mornings were spent lazing abed, reading poetry to each other or walking hand-in-hand along the coastline as the waves lapped at their bare feet. Evenings they would dine under the stars on fresh seafood and local wine before inevitably getting lost in each other’s embrace once more.

When they weren't making love, they talked endlessly too - favorite books and art, memories from childhood, amusing social mishaps. With Charles she felt able to let her guard down and be simply herself in a way she couldn’t with anyone else. It was at once thrilling and profoundly unsettling to feel this exposed. To need someone this much was surely only setting herself up for future anguish when the real world came crashing back in...

On their third morning when Dorothea’s laugh at Charles’ dreadful attempt at poetry turned into unexpected tears, he simply held her close, no questions asked. But she knew the conversation they had been avoiding could no longer wait. Reluctantly pulling back she began:

“Charles, what are we doing? This...us...it can never be, can it?” Her voice broke slightly. “In a few days you leave for Brussels to take up your new post. And I'll be back in England acting as if I don't know intimacies about you mere acquaintances ever could! Sneaking around, lying to everyone...”

Charles sighed, brushing his knuckles gently down her cheek. “You’re right, of course. Our...situation is complicated. But, blast it Dorothea, haven’t these few days together shown you what we could have? I’m falling in love with you, truly I am...”

Dorothea’s breath caught at this abrupt confession. Still...“Charles, be sensible! An affair is one thing but love...You’d give up your extravagant world traveling lifestyle for life as a country gentleman, tied down with a wife?” Even as she said it, her heart constricted painfully. She wanted that fantasy he dangled before her so badly.

Charles turned abruptly to stare broodingly out at the azure waves crashing below. The seconds stretched by silently. Finally he raked his hands through his hair and turned back, resolving burning in his eyes.

“You know what? Love makes fools of us all. For you Dorothea - yes, god help me but I would.”

He dropped to one knee then as Dorothea gazed at him stunned. “Marry me,” he implored passionately, grasping her hand. “We’ll sort the details later, just say you will!”

Dorothea wavered, stunned by his dramatic gesture. Could she really trust he meant these fervent vows? That their precious love wouldn’t warp or weather with time and changing fortunes? She searched his beloved face and saw only earnest devotion shining back.

Yes, she suddenly knew with crystal clarity, this was her destiny.

“Oh Charles,” she breathed, “My wild, wonderful darling....yes!”

***

The rest of their blissful interlude passed by in a blur. Before she quite knew it, Dorothea was bidding Charles goodbye at the villa's front steps, his driver already loading his bags into the Bentley. He drew her into his arms for a lengthy, searing kiss that left her flushed and aching.

“I still wish you would let me accompany you back to England. Facing your family like this...” Charles fretted as he caressed her arms.

Dorothea shook her head ruefully. “We’ve talked about why that won’t work just yet. I need time to pave the way. But...” Here she drew his head down to whisper triumphantly: “You let me handle my darling sister.”

With a final longing look, Charles climbed into the waiting car. As Dorothea watched it wind down the drive, she raised her hand in farewell, diamond ring glinting brightly in the sun. The future was uncertain, but she had never felt so hopeful.

***

Dorothea gazed out at the English countryside passing by outside the Bentley’s window, feeling like she was seeing it with fresh eyes after her blissful weeks abroad. The cool, drizzling rain of early autumn had turned the hills surrounding the estate vivid emerald green. She inhaled deeply as they turned onto the winding driveway lined with ancient oaks - she was home.

As Dorothea entered the grand foyer, she was immediately engulfed by Lady Eleanor’s effusive embrace. “Darling you’re back! We’ve all missed you terribly.” As she leaned back, scrutinizing her daughter’s suntanned face and relaxed smile, her gaze snagged on the sizable diamond suddenly adorning Dorothea’s left hand.

“What is this?” she exclaimed, grabbing her hand for closer inspection. Her confused smile froze as the significance hit. “Dorothea Van Houten, please tell me this is not an engagement ring!”

Before she could sputter a response, Dorothea’s father Roger strode toward them, face like thunder. Without preamble he bit out: “I just had an enlightening phone call with Charles Davenport. Would either of you care to explain precisely what the hell is going on?”

Dorothea took a deep breath as her parents stared at her expectantly. No going back now - time to fight for her future. “Father, Charles proposed to me during our trip and I accepted. We’re in love.” Roger’s face turned nearly purple at this while Eleanor appeared on the verge of fainting outright.

“How dare you...my own employee...the scandal...have you lost your mind girl? Tell me this is some childish prank!” Roger finally ground out.

“I can assure you it’s anything but,” Dorothea replied evenly. “We fully intend to be married as soon as it can be arranged.”

“Absolutely not!” Roger thundered. “I forbid it! Need I remind you a contract is already drawn up for your marriage to Viscount Alfred Huntley? You have a duty to this family’s legacy.”

“Viscount Huntley?” Dorothea spat with contempt. “You mean that arrogant dullard you’ve been trying to foist on me for years? Father, I’ll die a spinster before I ever marry that self-important fool!”

“Roger please, you must talk sense into her,” Eleanor interjected pleadingly. “This...infatuation with an employee will bring utter disaster down on our heads socially. Reconsider Dorothea!”

But Dorothea had worked herself into a justified fury by this point. Drawing herself up defiantly she declared: “I'll not reconsider this time Mother. You’ll just have to find some way to salvage your social calendar without my conveniently marrying according to your dictates. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to rest after my travels.”

As she swept imperiously from the room, Dorothea felt briefly powerful. She had staked her claim and wouldn’t let them intimidate her into giving up Charles without a fight. But she also knew the battle was far from won. Her family’s wrath had merely begun...

****

A week passed with endless arguments raging through the mansion. But Dorothea remained adamant, refusing to see sense as her parents raged and cajoled. Truthfully their disapproval only affirmed her conviction - she loved Charles desperately and wouldn’t easily relinquish the future she now felt entitled to. But the standoff was exhausting nonetheless.

Late one dreary evening as Dorothea listlessly wandered the portrait gallery, gazing at past Van Houten descendants judgementally peering down from their gilt frames, she heard clipped footsteps rapidly approaching. Whirling around she found herself face to face with her twin sister Diana, fury etched across her normally composed features.

“I leave town for a few weeks and return to find my sister has lost her mind!” she exclaimed without preamble. “What is this nonsense about you planning to marry Charles Davenport? Have you forgotten your place as firstborn? And mine as the spare heir relegated to marrying merely well if I'm lucky?”

When Dorothea just sighed wearily, Diana pressed on, jabbing a finger at her. “Do you not understand what your scandal will mean? Any prospects still willing to consider overlooking my inferior younger status will surely flee from the family name once word of this gets out! So I demand you end this farce immediately - write Charles to call off the engagement this instant!”

Usually their squabbles were petty contests over toys or tutors as children. But this...this went beyond all that into matters of legacy and happiness and Dorothea felt years of simmering resentment toward her controlling twin boil over.

Eyes blazing, she stepped forward, nearly nose to nose with Diana. “You entitled, spoiled witch - how dare you attempt to order me around like a servant, try to command the course of my life! You need to accept once and for all that you are not entitled to dictate my choices. If your only hope of a match rests on my good name then perhaps you should take a long look at why that is!”

Diana blinked, stunned by this unprecedented defiance. Then her expression hardened. “Do what you will then you foolish girl. When it crashes down around you, don't expect me to help pick up the pieces. We’ll just see who comes begging for family assistance sooner...”

She spun sharply on her heel before Dorothea could retort, marching off down the hall. Dorothea watched her go feeling emotionally spent but resolved. The battle lines were clearly drawn now. She had chosen her true partner - come what may...

***

Despite her defiance, as the weeks crept by with no contact from Charles abroad, Dorothea felt her confidence waning. Doubt began needling its way into her mind. Would absence and time diminish Charles’ feelings? Had this foreign adventure restored his taste for bachelor freedom over settling down? Her family’s campaign to make her see reason certainly wasn’t helping matters...

When the formal invitation arrived to the Huntley family’s sprawling country estate, Dorothea nearly tossed it directly in the dustbin unopened. Likely another pointed reminder for her to accept the Viscount’s longstanding marriage offer before he too heard the salacious rumors now swirling.

But something about the meticulous calligraphy gave her pause. The wording almost implied...not just one invitation but two? Heart suddenly hammering, Dorothea tore open the thick card stock envelope. Two separate invitation suites were neatly folded inside, one addressed solely to her, the other to -

“Oh my god,” Dorothea gasped aloud to the empty room. It couldn’t be! Hands trembling she unfolded the second elaborately addressed card:

The Viscount and Viscountess Huntley

Cordially request the company of

Mr. Charles Davenport

For an Autumn Masquerade Ball

Saturday next, at eight o’clock

Racing to the window Dorothea peered out just as a sleek town car cruised through the front gates toward the mansion, the unmistakable form of Charles Davenport emerging when it glided to a stop below.

“He’s back!” Dorothea cried, fairly flying toward the foyer. The coming battle might hold casualties still. But with Charles by her side again she finally felt fully armed for the fight.

***

Dorothea raced down the grand staircase, gripping handfuls of glittering silk and tulle to prevent an inelegant tumble in her haste. Reaching the marble tiled foyer, she froze momentarily to take in the beloved sight of Charles handing his hat and coat over to the butler. Even travel rumpled from long flights, he was still the most dashing man she had ever laid eyes on.

As he glanced up and spotted her hovering silently, his entire face transformed with a brilliant smile. “Dorothea, my darling!” In three long strides he had crossed to sweep her up ecstatically in his embrace. “My god, I’ve missed you!”

Dorothea clung to him, tears of relief escaping down her cheeks. She had so feared time and distance might temper his ardor, make this reunion awkward. But feeling the fervent passion still evident in his kiss, she let her doubts float away.

When they finally drew slightly apart, foreheads still touching, Dorothea breathlessly showed him the elegant invitation. “I just found this - however did you convince the Huntleys to be our co-conspirators?”

Charles chuckled. “I may have strategically let slip your parents’ attempts to pressure you during dinner conversation with the Viscount in Brussels last month. He was quite appalled at their tactics and intrigued by our ‘defiant romance’ as he called it. Offering to host our public debut as a couple was his idea actually.”

Dorothea’s eyes shone with renewed admiration for this clever, tenacious man. “Well then, my cunning darling, shall we prepare to scandalize society at large?” Laughing, Charles drew her in for another hungry kiss.

***

Dorothea gazed at her reflection in the full length mirror, barely recognizing herself. The figure peering back looked every inch the dazzling sophisticate in an exquisitely beaded emerald gown. Matching feathers swept up delicately from the silk headband adorning her coifed golden waves. Serena, her lady's maid, adjusted the eye mask with an approving smile.

"You look absolutely stunning, Miss. That Mr. Davenport is a lucky man indeed."

A knock at the chamber door heralded the man himself poking his head in. Charles cut a dashing figure in white tie and tails, black domino mask accentuating his piercing eyes. Crossing the room, he took Dorothea's hands, kissing them gallantly before standing back to admire her glowing visage.

"Remind me to send Miss Serena flowers for working miracles," he proclaimed. "I scarcely recognize you but to say you take my breath away." Dorothea flushed under his ardent perusal. No matter their disputes still raging downstairs, this felt meant to be.

As Charles helped her into the waiting Rolls Royce, Dorothea's nervous excitement mounted. So much depended on the impression they made tonight. She would finally claim Charles publicly, reputation be damned. Either society accepted them together...or she intended to burn the whole artifice down trying.

The Huntley manor was ablaze with light as they swept up the drive. Footmen in elaborate livery assisted them out, leading them toward the swelling orchestra music emanating from within. Pausing on the threshold of the glittering ballroom, Charles raised her hand to his lips.

"Ready for this, my love?" Gathering her courage as the grand doors swung open, Dorothea raised her chin defiantly.

"Ready."

As Dorothea entered on Charles' arm, the dazzling scene unfolded before her. The vaulted ballroom was a whirl of color - ladies in sequined gowns and feathered headdresses whirling by with gentlemen in an array of masquerade dominoes. Footmen wove through the lively crowd bearing trays piled high with bubbling champagne coupes. The chamber orchestra was midway through a spirited Viennese waltz.

Dorothea felt the excited gazes taking in her grand entrance with her mysterious escort. From the corner of her eye, she spotted a cluster of young ladies whispering behind their fans, eyeing Charles appreciatively. Suppressing a grin, she leaned closer to murmur: "I do believe you've caused something of stir, darling."

Charles barely seemed to notice the attention, so intensely was he focused on her. "Not nearly the stir you're about to cause when they discover your identity," he muttered back wryly. Dorothea exhaled, bracing herself as they approached their hosts to make introductions. This was it - their debut.

The string quartet struck up a dramatic drumroll as the majordomo rapped his staff loudly for attention. "Lady Elizabeth Huntley, Viscount Alfred Huntley, may I present Mr. Charles Davenport...and Miss Dorothea Van Houten!"

An audible gasp rippled through the crowd at this reveal, followed instantly by fervent, overlapping whispers. Dorothea noticed her sister Diana across the room, mouth agape beneath her silver filigree mask.