Page 80 of Beyond Her Manner
Viola placed her other hand on Gillian’s other cheek and pulled her back. “Then why can’t I take my eyes off you? Why can’t I stop thinking about you? Why does my heart scream every time we are apart?”
Their eyes met in an unwavering stare that felt like forever. Gillian’s lips parted to reply, but she had no idea what they would say. She wondered if Viola was going to kiss her. She realised how much she wanted to be kissed, devoured even, by the woman in front of her. Unable to resist any longer, her hand reached for the back of Viola’s head and pulled her into a kiss.
Viola’s eager mouth sent a rush of warm tingles shooting through her body like she had never felt before. Her breath caught as the sensation spread, intensifying with every movement of their lips, awakening something deep within her. Every touch was electric as the world around them melted away, leaving only this intense, undeniable feeling that consumed her entirely.
The words from the song of riches and beauty filled her head as Viola’s tongue came searching for hers. When she watched Viola on that stage, she had wanted to claim her for herself. Was that not for her riches and beauty, her success, her celebrity? Were her feelings superficial and lustful? They were most definitely lustful. She couldn’t deny that as her tongue tangled with Viola’s.
But even as desire coursed through her, her thoughts were clouded, her head aching with confusion and guilt. What was she doing kissing Viola? Her mind and body battled in desperation to find answers, to find a way to let her animalistic instincts have what they desired.
All she could think about was Kingsford, that Viola owned it and she didn’t. She could hear the villagers whispering about her and see them pointing at her, judging her. Judging her for who she was and what she wanted, Kingsford, and not the person who owned it, even if that wasn’t true.
Nothing felt right. Every moment longer of Viola’s lips, her soft warm breast that she was caressing without realising, felt like she was using her. Everything screamed at her to stop.
She pulled back. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” She forced herself to her feet as Viola pulled her dressing gown around her. “I shouldn’t have…” Gillian trailed off as she looked back at Viola. What was she thinking? One slip and their relationship had changed. She grabbed her bag and made her way toward the dressing room door. As she opened it, she couldn’t bring herself to look back, swiftly closing it behind her.
Damn her weakness. The emotions of Viola’s performance had overrun her, and her near-naked body barely hiding behind the dressing gown had tempted her. A warm rush rose again inside her at thoughts of Viola’s allure, her desire for her. She pushed them down, desperate to get control of herself.
Looking for an exit sign, she found one directing her back the way she’d come only ten minutes before. That was a time when everything was fine, when she had a lid on her feelings. A voice in her brain mocked her: “You were never in control.”
Needing air, she opened a door, not noticing until it was too late that it was the stage door. Camera lights flashed as she stumbled down the steps onto the path, gasping for breath. Once the photographers realised she was no one of interest, they stopped, allowing her to pass through them. All she could see was the looks they were giving her.
“You all right, love?” one of them asked as she stumbled on the curb.
Righting herself, she quickened her pace to get away, grateful she had opted for a hotel within walking distance of the Royal Albert Hall and not a room in Viola’s penthouse. She knew she would need distance from the woman who was making her feel things she hadn’t felt in decades. She couldn’t trust herself or her feelings, and now they proved untrustworthy.
A voice in her head spoke over her thoughts: “You want her. You need her. You desire her.” She pushed them aside, onlyfor images of their kiss to fill her mind. The woman had taken everything from her, and now she was coming for her heart.
Her feet carried her at such a pace that the fallen early autumn leaves danced around her, their yellowing hues catching the glow of the streetlights. How was it nearly autumn already and she hadn’t noticed? Everything was more noticeable when she owned the manor. She had been more attuned to the seasons then. Now she felt disconnected, lost once again in a wilderness of emptiness, much like the life she’d known before Kingsford. She had let Viola distract her from it all.
Her thoughts turned to Viola in the dressing room. She’d left her there, all alone after her big performance. How would she be feeling, having been walked out on without so much as an explanation?
A sick feeling rose in her stomach. Gillian stopped in her tracks. What if Viola continued drinking? What if she didn’t stop? Should she go back? She pushed herself forward. It wasn’t on her if Viola chose that path. She could only control her path; that was the only way she could convince herself to keep walking away from the hall, away from the person who, not long ago, she had disliked and now couldn’t get out of her head.
CHAPTER 18
Gillian looked out over the parkland of Kingsford Manor from her usual spot on the bench. The sunshine warmed her face, but a cold breeze swept around the rest of her, reminding her summer was gone. She wanted to make the most of the estate whilst Viola was still away. Given how she had left things in the dressing room, she wasn’t sure under what circumstances their paths might cross again—or if she would still be welcome. Part of her wanted to avoid it as long as possible. A light cough sounded from behind, telling her that her time was already up.
“I’ll go,” Gillian said, making moves to stand.
A hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Please don’t. May I join you?” Viola asked, sitting beside her without waiting for an answer.
“Sorry, I thought you were still in London. I didn’t hear a helicopter.”
“I came back by car last night.”
The awkward silence that commenced wasn’t going to get any less uncomfortable, so Gillian decided to address the issue head-on. She was a ‘tear the plaster off in one swift movement’ kind of woman.
“I must have hurt you, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that. I just can’t be… that. I’m not like that anymore.”
“It hurts, yes,” Viola admitted. “Was it unexpected that you kissed me first? Yes, very. That you ran? No.” She paused, then added, “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but it would have been good to have at least talked about it.”
Gillian’s head dropped as Viola continued.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while and refrained. I feared it would make you run, and I was right. I didn’t want that either. If you don’t want to talk about it, or can’t, then we won’t. I will ask what you meant by ‘like that’. You often talk in terms that sound a little homophobic. You once even struggled to get the word ‘lesbian’ out of your mouth.”
“I don’t have a problem with gay people,” Gillian muttered as she shifted in her seat.
“I’m sure you don’t have a problem with other people being gay, but I get the impression you believe we are somehow inferior. It’s okay for others to be ‘like that’; you just don’t want to be seen as that yourself. Am I right?”
