She felt nervous, she felt sick. What exactly was this Caitlin going to do to "prep" her for his special plans? What were his special plans? She began to wonder just what it was he was doing, or catch up on, but quickly decided with a shake of her head that she didn't want to know.
She poked at her eggs, starring at her cold pancakes. Breakfast in bed in a large mansion, what more could a girl want? A sickly smile eased onto her face as she stared out the window. It was beautiful here, and the staff would from time to time ask if she wanted anything, delighting when she did, even if it was simply a cup of coffee. They seemed fascinated with her for some reason she couldn't understand and attempted to dress her in silks and trinkets and makeup. At first, the first day she declined, but when she saw the disappointment the maids seemed to have of this, she relented.
They were thrilled with this, having her try on dress after dress, the perfect matching shoes, sitting for hours as they did her makeup and hair. She had thought several times about asking them questions, but she didn't have the courage or the nerve to. She would have minded more if she had something to do after besides wander around aimlessly.
But the mansion was so big and so beautiful. With vast lush fields where she could see horses and dogs being trained along the Roman stoned pathway to the lavish exotic plants; trees and flowers and berry bushes carefully organized and tended to. In the centre was the mansion, the impressive red-brick Victorian mansion that fully lived up to the estate's pride, decorated with the tastefully gloomy gorgains looming overhead.
The walls, like the oak stained floor, was a dark reddish-brown that felt almost warm and homely against the hanging carpet tapestry depicting the forest and all different kinds of animals, mostly wolves. Wreathes and woven spice with gold chain decorations and dried hanging flowers would fill her with a warm sense of pleasure as she explored the different portraits and antiques that were filled with fresh flowers.
The stairs were enormously and elegantly carved stone with silver and gold seamlessly integrated, standing just yards away from the door, with another raising from the living room off to the far side of the large greeting area that seeped into the second story. Although the inside didn't seem as grand as the outside at first, it had a more mature feel to it. As large as it was, it didn't have that cold distance the white walls would have. The mansion had a raw earthy feel that gave everything a more authentic and tangible feel.
He had two pools, one inside and one outside, both of which were finely tiled with an assortment of dark blues and browns incircled within statues and lavish seatings. They were not round like most she had seen, but more crudely shaped like a lake or pond with pockets that dipped into hot tubs. The saunas were equally extravagant, the walls were raw harsh rock like the inside of a cave that the hot heavy mist would cling and weave down to the wooden benches, down into the small pebbled flooring.
All these things were so marvellous, so spectacular, it felt more dreamlike than real. But, at the same time, it felt empty, even if it did feel warm. She was alone and in foreign territory without her sisters, living in the uncertainty of a strangers territory. There was, she felt, no safe place, however pleasant.
She wondered how today would be different, but when the maids never came to play dress up, she began to get an idea. She didn't bother to get dressed, didn't bother finishing her breakfast either. She wrapped herself in a bathrobe and headed to the library to find a book to read until this Caitlin arrived. She wasn't surprised to find the food was gone or the new thermos of coffee when she returned. It had given her a nice but odd feeling when she finally sat down with her book.
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It wasn't until around six o'clock in the evening she started to hear noises that sounded a bit different than normal, a door? There were voices, then long-heeled steps on stairs. When the door did open, she was sprawled on the bed in her robe with her stolen book, receiving a rather sharp look of some sort of disapproval. She sat up stiffly, tugging at her robe as she pushed the book away, wondering if she should smile, or greet her or-
"So, this is her." She fingered the pink lace on her lowcut dress, clicking her silver heels on the tile. "Well, let's get a look at your figure," Caitlin said, grabbing her by the wrist and pulling Anioa stumbling off the bed. "I'd say you're roughly 5'4", yes? Probably around 140 pounds. You look a bit coltish. . . . compact," she said, circling her, tugging her robe towards and away to get a better look. "You look pretty defined, even if you are a bit gangly." Anioa's face started to turn red, she didn't like this at all. "Pear-shaped, but very leggy," Caitlin nodded, thinking.
She looked at the clock, she had been told she would be meeting him around eight, so that meant they had a little less than two hours. A long two hours.
"Not usually his taste, not what I expected but," she gave a sly smile, "I may have a few things with me that will do the trick.