When the Fog Clears (A V.I.P.s fanfic)

[dianahawthorne]

When the Fog Clears

Rating: Right now, K. Rating will most likely increase with subsequent chapters. ETA: Most definitely M.
Summary: What were Les Mangrum and Diana Mead thinking when it became clear that their relationship was changing? And what happens the next morning when the fog clears?

SUMMARY OF THE MOVIE, taken from Wikipedia (the parts that are related to this fanfic are in bold): The film is set at London's Heathrow airport during a fog. As flights are delayed, the VIPs of the title play out the drama of their lives in a number of slightly interconnected stories. The delays have caused serious hardship for most of the characters and have plunged some of them into deep personal or financial crisis. The central story concerns Frances Andros (Elizabeth Taylor) trying to leave her husband, millionaire Paul Andros (Richard Burton) and fly away with her lover Marc Champselle (Louis Jourdan). Because of the fog, Andros has the opportunity to come to the airport to convince his wife not to leave him. Film producer Max Buda (Orson Welles) has to leave London, taking his newest protégée Gloria Gritti (Elsa Martinelli) with him, if he is to avoid paying a hefty tax bill. The Duchess of Brighton (Margaret Rutherford) is on her way to Florida to take up a job which will pay her enough money to save her historic home. Les Mangrum (Rod Taylor), an Australian businessman, is anxious to get to New York to prevent his business from being sold. His dutiful secretary, Miss Mead (Maggie Smith) is secretly in love with him. Knowing that it is a matter of great urgency, she decides to approach Andros, unbeknownst to her boss, and asks him to advance the money which will save Mangrum's company.

Chapter One: Improved Visibility

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Disclaimer: I do not own the movie "The V.I.P.s" (aka "Hotel International"), nor am I making any profit besides pleasure out of writing this fanfic.

A/N: In the movie, Miss Mead's first name is not given. I've made it "Diana", because while "Margaret" was my initial choice, Margaret Mead was an actual person - in fact, one of the first female anthropologists. Her most famous work is Coming of Age in Samoa, and is an excellent read for anyone remotely interested in human culture and society. As I've been studying Anthropology almost non-stop during this past week and a half in preparation for my exams today and tomorrow, I feel a bit nauseous when thinking about that subject, so I just couldn't bring myself to make Miss Mead's first name Margaret.

Les Mangrum's thoughts are in bold, Diana Mead's thoughts are in italics.
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I remember the first time I realised that I was in love with my employer, Mr. Les Mangrum. It was last year in October, and his fiancée, Miss Miriam Marshall, came to the office. While I had spoken with her over the telephone several times, I had never met her prior to that day. When Mr. Mangrum kissed her hello, my heart felt as though it were on fire. Luckily, they were on their way out of the office, and neither of them noticed my tears. I ran to the lavatory and sobbed my heart out.

I always knew that I would never have a chance with him – after all, he is the chair and founder of Mangrum Tractors. He would never be interested in his mousy secretary Diana Mead. He is engaged, after all, to a gorgeous, rich woman. Miss Marshall was lovely – thick blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a curvy figure – what man would ever look twice at me when he had someone like Miss Marshall? I am too slender, my hair is an unbecoming colour, and although my eyes are blue, they are almost an unnatural shade of blue – quite unnerving, really.

Besides, even if I did look like Miss Marshall, I doubt Mr. Mangrum would notice. He is a very busy and important man, with far more important things to pay attention to than to notice me. He just sees me as his competent secretary, the ever-efficient, ever-prepared Miss Mead.

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I cannot believe my company is about to be taken over by Amalgamated Motors. After all the work, all the time, all the effort I have put into my company, it will all be gone by tomorrow afternoon. All because of Henry MacDee.

MacDee was my best friend – we grew up together in Queensland. When I first started my company, I gave him a job – and this is how he repays me – by pledging his shares to me, then going back on his word and selling out to Amalgamated Motors.

How could he do this to me – to us? We worked so hard and so long to achieve our dream, but now it’s all gone to pieces. Unless by some miracle I find £153,750 by tomorrow, everything I’ve worked for is gone.

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Mr. Mangrum treated me to an expensive dinner tonight – he even bought champagne. He said he wanted to “go out with a bang”. I told him that if he kept pouring me champagne, I’d get squiffy, and he just laughed, saying that he would like to see that sight. It was such a romantic scene – candles, champagne – and in the low light I could imagine that I could see love reflected in his eyes. Miss Marshall’s arrival, however, ruined that.

Of course, I excused myself at once, and he and Miss Marshall went back to our table and drank some champagne. I went upstairs to collect my things from his room. When I came back down, I saw them enter the elevator, and as soon as they got in, even before the doors had closed, they began kissing. How I wished I could be the one in his arms! I loved him so much – much more, I am sure, than Miss Marshall loves him – she only wants his money. She didn’t care about the business at all, she didn’t care about the three-month-long struggle to prevent Mangrum Tractors from becoming part of Amalgamated Motors. I did care!

As I passed the writing room, I saw Mr. Andros sitting at the desk. Mr. Mangrum had told me at dinner that he was one of the richest men in the world; that he was a great businessman who had started from nothing. I knew that I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I confronted him about the situation involving Mangrum Tractors.

“Does he know how much you love him?” Mr. Andros asked me, and I was taken aback. I did not realise that my feelings for my employer were so obvious. I hoped that Mr. Mangrum hadn’t realised the depth of my feelings for him…

I gathered my wits together and told Mr. Andros that I loved the company, though I could see that he did not believe me. He then gave me a blank cheque and told me to fill in the amount. I asked him if he wanted a receipt, and he told me to mail him one. When I asked him if three days was too long a wait to be paid back, he said that he could wait much longer. I filled in the amount for the cheque and ran towards the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. Maybe, I thought to myself, Just maybe this will endear Mr. Mangrum to me.

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I sat on the couch in the hotel room Miss Mead had booked for me, holding Miriam, my fiancée, in my arms. We were kissing – I was trying to drown myself in her, trying to avoid thinking about my lost company. However, the usual spark of attraction that characterised our relations was not present. When my eyes closed, all I could see was my secretary, Miss Mead, blushing becomingly as I poured her more champagne. When Miriam spoke, I heard Miss Mead’s voice saying, “I’d work for you for nothing, you know.”

Miriam broke the kiss, startling me out of my reverie. “Oh, my poor darling,” she said, stroking my hair.

“Oh, don’t worry, my love,” I said half-heartedly. “I’ll be all right, just so long as I’ve got you.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Baby?” she asked me, “Do you remember those shares in the company you gave me?”

My heart was suffused with a warm glow at the generosity of her question. Miriam was a wonderful woman. “Of course I do. You keep them, darling. They cannot help me now. That was sweet of you to think of that,” I told her, bringing a hand to her soft cheek and caressing it.

“You mean they’re not worth anything anymore?” she asked me, frowning.

“On the contrary,” I replied, “They’re gonna go way, way up.”

She clapped her hands in delight. “How marvellous! I thought after all you told me, that I was going to be just as broke as you were.” She smiled happily at her stroke of good fortune. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she added, realising what she had just said. “I’m sorry.”

I was appalled. Did she really only think about herself when I told her about my troubles? Obviously, she did. Luckily, I was saved from having to say anything to her by a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“Miss Mead.”

I sighed in relief. “Just a minute,” I called out, walking to the door. She was smiling, and I felt myself grow angry with her. How could she be smiling? She knew just as well as I did, probably better than I did, what we lost today. All because of that damned fog that kept me from getting to New York in time.

“What do you want, dear?” I snapped. Her mood was not dampened even by one iota.

“I’d like you to endorse a cheque, please, Mr. Mangrum,” she told me.

“Couldn’t it wait till tomorrow morning?” I groused.

She smiled again, causing my temper to rise even further. “No, I don’t think it could.” I snatched the cheque from her hands and signed the back without even looking at the amount, before handing it back to her.

“Good,” she said. “I think you should read it, Mr. Mangrum. You should never sign things blind.” She handed the cheque back to me. I looked at it, staring at the amount.

£153,750.

Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

“I’d better take it,” Miss Mead said, trying to take the cheque from my hands. “It has to be in your bank by 10 o’clock in the morning.” I grabbed it back.

“Wait a minute,” I told her. “What’s this?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” she said, still trying to get the cheque back. “We don’t want to bother Miss Marshall with business, do we?” she added.

“You’re not trying to tell me that’s real?” I asked her, still looking at the amount.

£153,750.

“Oh yes, it’s quite real. He signed it for me downstairs in the lounge. I filled in the amount myself,” she said, indicating the amount of £153,750. “It is quite correct.”

“You?” I asked, pointing at her. She nodded.

“Wow. Just – just – wow,” I stammered, before regaining my speech ability. I punched the air and yelled “Wahoo! You little beauty!” I wrapped my arms around Miss Mead’s slender waist and spun her around, feeling startled by the spark of attraction that ran through me when her bare skin met mine as I pressed my cheek to hers. Her laughter sounded like music.

“Oh, Mr. Mangrum, please!” she protested, giggling.

“You little – you bloody humdinger!” I shouted, jumping on the ottoman.

“Mr. Mangrum!” Miss Mead exclaimed again, still laughing.

“Have you gone mad?” Miriam asked me. I ignored her.

Miss Mead walked towards me and held out her hand for the cheque. “I’d better go before the police get here,” she said.

“No, no, no, stay a little. I got work to do. Listen. Get Fordman senior in New York right away,” I told her. She immediately morphed into the competent, familiar secretary.

“Fordman,” she repeated.

“After that,” I continued, “Kingsford. Dave Kingsford. You got his private number?”

She rummaged through her portfolio. “I think so. Somewhere,” she said.

Miriam interrupted us. “Are you going to do business?” I ignored her again.

“Listen, you’ll probably have to extend the options by 24 hours,” I continued.

Miriam interrupted us again. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, wait a minute,” I said, addressing Miss Mead. “You’ll have to up the price.” I paused for a minute. “I – we got them. Amalgamated Motors is beaten,” I said, awed.

“Yes, Mr. Mangrum,” Miss Mead said, smiling.

“They’ve had it. We’ve beaten them,” I repeated. “Listen –” a door slamming interrupted my chain of thought. “What’s that?” I asked her.

“Miss Marshall, going,” Miss Mead replied.

“Yeah, well.” I was relieved, and allowed myself a moment to bask in that feeling before continuing to give Miss Mead orders. It was over an hour before we finished up for the night.

Like it? Hate it? Review, please!

[Junora]

Sweet, and don't worry I'm sure you have top grades! XD

I like it very much. I could really hear the dry reply of miss mead "Miss Marshall, going" wonderful.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Two: Bright Skies

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A/N: Diana Mead's thoughts are in italics; Les Mangrum's thoughts are in bold. Thank you, Junora, for reviewing!

I decided to write the scene this way because of a detail I noticed in the last scene with Les and Diana in the movie - she's wearing the same clothes the next morning as she did the night she secured the money for the company. This is my explanation for it.

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We saved Mangrum Tractors! We did it! I am so ecstatic, and so is Mr. Mangrum. He even took me in his arms and spun me around – and called me a beauty. When our cheeks met as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, I felt a bolt of electricity shoot through me. If I did not already know that I was in love with him, I would know after we touched. I wonder if he felt the same shock?

We went to work straight after he signed the cheque, and after he placed calls to Lloyd’s Bank in London and to the Board in New York, he sent me down to deposit the cheque. Luckily, there was a messenger going to the Lloyd’s Bank branch nearby, so he deposited the cheque for me. When I arrived back in Mr. Mangrum’s room, it was late – about 11 o’clock at night. Mr. Mangrum’s flight was leaving at 8:45 in the morning the next day, and he needed me at the airport the next morning to help him organise everything for the Board meeting in New York.

“Why don’t you see if you can get a room here for the night?” he asked me when I returned from depositing the cheque.

“There are no more rooms, Mr. Mangrum,” I replied. “They’ve even had to make some of the people travelling solo pair up with another single passenger.” He sighed and looked around the room.

“Well, you can spend the night here, Miss Mead,” he told me. I nodded shyly.

“All right. Would you care to use the bathroom first, then?” I asked him.

“Oh, no, dear, you go right ahead,” he said. I nodded and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I shed my brown boiled-wool jacket and my sensible brown flats first, excited by the fact that I would be spending the night next to the love of my life. Next, I doffed my beige silk blouse and unzipped my brown boiled-wool skirt, folding all of my discarded clothes neatly. Last to go were the stockings, which I rolled up carefully and stored in one of my shoes. I was left in a short white silk slip, not something anyone would ever suspect the sensible Miss Mead to wear.

The truth was that I actually enjoyed buying expensive lingerie for myself – though I had never been in an intimate relationship with a man, I still liked to feel desirable at times. When the monotony of being a secretary catches up with me, I think about the fact that I am not only Miss Mead, the personal private secretary of Mr. Les Mangrum, Chair of Mangrum Tractors, but I am also a woman.

Tonight, I was glad that I did not indulge my sensible side when shopping for undergarments – if my attire – or lack of it – would not inspire Mr. Mangrum to think of me in a different way, then nothing would.

I gathered my clothes together and took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door. I hoped that Mr. Mangrum would like my appearance. I turned the knob and opened the door. Mr. Mangrum was sitting on the bed winding the alarm clock, clad only in a pair of boxer shorts. His other clothes were folded somewhat neatly and placed on top of the dresser. I had a few moments before he noticed my exit from the bathroom to admire his broad, muscular chest and his long, toned legs, before he looked up at me and his jaw dropped.

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Although Miss Mead said that the fog had cleared, by the time we finished up with work, it was 11 o’clock at night. I needed her with me at the airport in the morning, so it wouldn’t make sense for her to take a cab all the way to London now and another one back here in the morning. I told her that she could share the room with me. I will admit, however, to having ulterior motives. I had long suspected that Miss Mead had feelings for me that went above and beyond the simple employer-employee relationship, but it took me until tonight to realise that I reciprocated her feelings.

When she came in with that cheque that saved my company, I realised that Miriam wasn’t the one for me. She was just glad that she was not broke as well – that was the only reason she listened to my account of what happened. Miss Mead actually cared about what happened – she even filled out a cheque for me that she knew was invalid and said that she did not mind going to jail for me. When I spun her around, I knew that I was in love with her – I never would have done such a thing to Miriam, even if I had still believed that I was in love with her. I didn’t even have to think before taking Miss Mead into my arms – it just felt so right and natural.

All of my luggage was stored at the airport, so I could not change into any nightwear. I simply stripped down to my boxer shorts and hoped that Miss Mead would not be uncomfortable. When she emerged from the bathroom, however, I wished that I was still wearing all of my clothes to hide my obvious response to her presence.

She was wearing a short white silk slip with lace trim. The slip reached the middle of her thigh and accented her hair and eyes, as well as making me notice for the first time the creaminess of her skin and the length of her legs – to say nothing about the rest of her figure. She stood there for several minutes, blushing, before I recovered.

“Do you typically sleep on the right or left side of the bed?” I asked her awkwardly.

“The left, if that’s all right with you, Mr. Mangrum,” she responded. I nodded and moved further towards the right side of the bed. “What time are you setting the alarm clock for tomorrow?” she asked me.

“6:30, if that’s all right,” I told her. She nodded, and walked around the foot of the bed to the left side. She pulled the covers back gently and gracefully crawled between them, revealing almost all of her left leg in the process. My mouth went dry.

“Good night, Mr. Mangrum,” she said, turning to me. I hastily got under the covers as well.

“Yes, good night, Miss Mead,” I replied before turning off the light. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep – adrenalin was still pumping through my veins. As I lay there, I stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the woman next to me.

How I wished that I had kissed her when she came in with that cheque! I didn’t, though, because I was still aware of Miriam’s presence in the room. How could I ever have preferred Miriam to Miss Mead?

As I thought that, I felt her snuggle up to me. I looked down at her, surprised, but then realised by the sound of her deep, even breathing that she was asleep. I suddenly felt very tired, and I turned towards her and gathered her in my arms. Her body felt so wonderful against mine – she melded into me as though we were one. She moved a little in her sleep, turning fully towards me and nestling her head under my chin.

“Mmm, Mr. Mangrum,” I heard her sigh, “I love you so.”

My heart almost jumped from my chest at her declaration of love; for all that it was made while she was asleep. I wrapped my arms more firmly around her and trapped one of her legs between mine. “I love you, too, Miss Mead,” I whispered in her ear. “I love you, too.” I drifted off to sleep, unable to stay awake any longer.

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“Good morning, darling,” I said as my husband walked into the kitchen. I came over to him and gave him a quick kiss, laughing when his arms slipped around my waist and held me closer for another, longer kiss.

“Oh, Les,” I giggled, slapping his chest playfully. He gave me a large, innocent grin.

“Yes, Diana?” he asked, his innocent expression belied by the mischievous look in his eyes. He pulled me towards him again and gave me another deep kiss. I returned it, melting into his embrace. “Mmm…” Suddenly, an alarm went off, and I pushed him away from me.

“What on earth is that?” I asked, turning towards him, only to see him disappear. “Les?”
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“Miss Mead, it’s time to wake up,” I heard Mr. Mangrum say, and I opened my eyes. It was only a dream… My heart sank somewhat at that realisation – at least until I realised our proximity. He was holding me in his arms and our legs were entwined. My slip had ridden up somewhat during the night and my bare legs and hips pressed against his body. And his erection was pressed firmly against my abdomen. I wanted to swoon – it was the most delicious feeling I have ever experienced in my life. I looked up into his eyes and saw the tenderness that was present there.

“Good morning, Diana,” he said, placing a light kiss on my forehead. My hand dazedly moved up to cover the place he had kissed. Had he really kissed me? And did he really call me by my first name? I looked up at him again and saw him smile down at me before he released me from his arms and pulled back the covers.

“Do you want to use the loo first?” he asked me. I nodded gratefully.

“Thank you,” I told him.

“No problem, love. Take your time,” he said. I slid out of his arms and the bed reluctantly, gathered yesterday’s clothes, and entered the bathroom. I placed my clothes neatly on the counter and stripped, stepping into the shower quickly. I did not have time to wash my hair, so I made sure not to get it wet. A very short while later, I finished my quick wash and dried myself off before dressing myself in yesterday’s clothes. When I exited the bathroom, I saw that he was on the telephone.

“I’ll be in New York this evening, Dave,” Mr. Mangrum spoke into the telephone. “See you then. Yeah. Ta,” he said and hung up the line, before turning to me and smiling. He had gotten dressed while I was in the bathroom.

“That was Dave Kingsford,” Mr. Mangrum told me. “He’s thrilled that the deal went through.” I smiled at him.

“We all are,” I told him, before looking at my watch reflexively. “Oh dear!” I exclaimed. “It’s 7:20, and our cab will be down in the lobby at 7:30.” Mr. Mangrum gathered his things together and I gathered mine, and we walked down the hallway to the elevator. Reaching the lobby, I turned in the keys and checked Mr. Mangrum out while he went to see if the car was there. As I signed the bill, Mr. Mangrum came back in the hotel.

“The cab’s here, Miss Mead,” Mr. Mangrum said to me. I quickly handed the concierge the bill and his pen before dashing out the door to join Mr. Mangrum.

“Here you are, love,” Mr. Mangrum said, holding the door open for me. I gracefully entered the car and told the driver the address as Mr. Mangrum entered as well.

It was a short ride to the airport, though I kept sneaking glances at Mr. Mangrum when I thought he wasn’t looking. It seemed as though he was doing the same, for we caught each other looking several times and laughed awkwardly. The most of the ride was filled with awkward silences, though as we neared the airport, Mr. Mangrum relaxed a bit and started giving me directions on what to do next. I took them down carefully. By the time he finished, we arrived at the airport. We got out of the car and I paid the cab driver as Mr. Mangrum gathered his things together. We then walked in to the airport.

[Junora]

So wondeful, keep it up.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Three: Sunshine Approaching

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A/N: Thank you Junora for reviewing! While the events of this chapter may seem a bit... premature... I'm sticking to them. Chapter Four will explain why these events happen so fast.

I don't own Fordman Senior or Fordman Junior, Dave Kingsford, or the stewardess. I most certainly do not own BOAC Airlines. I do, however, own Mrs. Fordman, who will make a much larger appearance in the next chapter.
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When I woke up this morning with Diana in my arms, I knew that I had never been happier in my entire life. As I woke up a few minutes before the alarm clock rang, I was pleased that I could watch her sleep. As her chest rose and fell from her intake of breath, I was given a lovely view down the front of her slip. I could have sworn that I heard her murmur my name in her sleep, but the alarm clock rang before I could tell for certain.

Just thinking about her was sufficient to lengthen my morning erection, but having caught a glimpse of her beautiful breasts made that condition even more evident to her. She didn’t seem to mind, though – on the contrary, she seemed quite reluctant to leave the bed. She did, though, and showered while I dressed quickly in the bedroom and then made a call to the airlines. When she emerged from the bathroom I had finished up my last-minute surprise for her and was talking with Dave Kingsford. Quickly settling that business, we had to rush downstairs to check out and catch the car Diana had reserved in advance.

The ride to the airport was quite awkward, neither of us comfortable enough to talk about the change in our relationship with a third party present. I made a conscious effort to appear as though everything was normal, although I could not stop myself from stealing glances at her – and she could not stop stealing glances at me, either.

When we arrived at the airport, I gave her my overnight bag and had her check it, along with checking to see if all of my other luggage was there. I went to the ticket counter to pick up my new boarding card and the ticket and boarding card I had purchased for Diana this morning. Luckily, she always carries her passport with her, or else that would have been a problem.

I rejoined her at the entrance to the V.I.P. Lounge. I stood there looking at her for a moment, before leaning forward and kissing her. She responded tentatively, yet eagerly, and I knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she felt the same about me as I did about her.

“That’s what I tried to tell you last night,” I said when we broke the kiss. She brought one hand up to her lips, touching them gently with her fingers as though she did not believe that we had just kissed.

“Here,” I said, handing her the envelope that contained her ticket and boarding card to New York. She opened it and gasped.

“Oh, Mr. Mangrum, I can’t accept this…” she began, stopping when I put my fingers gently over her mouth.

“Shh, love, yes you can,” I said, removing my hand and putting an arm around her shoulder before leading her into the lounge. I pulled out a chair for her to sit in, and I knelt at her feet. Her hand flew to her chest in surprise, but I reached out and took hold of both of her hands.

“Diana,” I began. “I love you. Will you marry me?” She nodded and began to cry.

“Ah, my love, what is wrong?” I asked her, producing a handkerchief for her to dry her tears.

“I just never thought that this would ever happen, Mr. Mangrum,” she said, and I laughed.

“Perhaps we should dispose of the formalities, Diana,” I suggested, and she laughed as well.

“All right, then – Les,” she said softly, as though testing out my name. She smiled at me before placing a soft hand on my cheek. She opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the loudspeaker.

“First class for BOAC Cunard flight 905 to New York is now boarding,” a stewardess said. I stood up and held out my hand to Diana, helping her to her feet. Instead of releasing her soft hand from my own rough one, I brought it up tenderly to my mouth and caressed the skin with my lips. She sighed longingly.

“It is time to board now,” a stewardess told us. I nodded and offered Diana my arm, leading her down the hallway to the plane. We found our seats quite easily and were soon ensconced in them, happily sipping champagne.

“What about Miss Marshall?” she asked me. I sighed.

“Last night I realised that we weren’t really compatible at all, that she didn’t really care for me. I broke it off with her because I knew that you were the one,” I told her honestly. She smiled happily, but suddenly her smile turned into a frown.

“What’s the matter, love?” I asked her, concerned.

“I don’t have any clothes – or anything else – with me!” she exclaimed, somewhat frantic. I placed a steadying hand on her knee.

“Well, I will need some new clothes, too, dear,” I said soothingly. She looked confused.

“I thought that we’d take a wee vacation, just the two of us. I’ve not taken a vacation in the past five years – and you haven’t taken one since you began working as my secretary! And after this victory, we both deserve a break. Mr. Andros’s loan has already been repaid, and all the business will be settled after the board meeting this afternoon. And,” I began my last sentence tentatively, “We could get married while we are in New York and then go on our honeymoon.” She leaned back in her seat and looked at me, hand at her breast.

“Really, Les?” she asked me incredulously. “We could really get married so soon?” I smiled at her.

“Yes, my love,” I replied. “We can even get married tonight.”

“Oh, yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I would like that very much.”

“You don’t want a fancy wedding?” I asked her nervously. She shook her head.

“No, I have never been one for frills, as you know. It wouldn’t matter to me if we got married in Westminster Cathedral with the Queen in attendance, or at a courthouse with a justice of the peace presiding – I just want to be with you.”

Her words melted my heart, and I leaned towards her for a kiss. “That’s all I want too, darling,” I told her. She smiled and entwined her fingers with mine. The sight of her bare ring finger caused me to break our comfortable silence.

“We can go to Tiffany’s this afternoon and buy your engagement ring,” I told her. She looked up at me in awe.

“Really?” she asked. I nodded.

“We can go right after the board meeting,” I promised her. Another though struck me. “Where do you want to travel for our honeymoon?” I asked. She smiled softly.

“Well, I’ve never been to America before, so it would be lovely to stay in New York for a few days. That way, if anything comes up with the company, you’ll be on hand. Then, perhaps, we can go to Australia and you can show me where you grew up – and that way you can tell everyone at the factory the news of your victory over Amalgamated Motors in person,” she suggested. I grinned, squeezing her hand.

“Diana, my love,” I began, “However did I deserve you?” She flushed becomingly.

“Oh, Les,” she sighed, “It is I who does not deserve you. You are such a wonderful man – so brave, smart, strong, handsome, and hard-working – and I’m just a secretary – your secretary, in fact; your employee,” she said sadly.

My heart clenched. Did she really think that poorly of herself? “Love, you are the reason our company still exists today. How can you not see what a wonderful, clever, passionate, resourceful, and beautiful woman you are?” A corner of her mouth twitched up into a small smile.

“Thank you, Les,” she murmured, leaning against my chest. I stroked the ends of her hair and thanked God for my good fortune.

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As I leaned against Les’s chest, I marvelled at my good fortune. Just a day ago, I was in the depths of despair at the loss of the company and the seemingly inevitable fact that I would most likely never see Les again. But now – now – I am the happiest woman alive.

I helped Les save the company. He kissed me. He told me he loved me. We are engaged. We are getting married tonight.

How wonderful life is, I thought, when you are happy. I relaxed, shifting my weight so that I was leaning more fully against Les, and turned my head so that I could smile up at him. He returned my smile and bent down to kiss me. I let out a hum of satisfaction as his lips met mine, and I wanted to stay in that moment forever.

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“We will be arriving at La Guardia airport in five minutes,” the stewardess announced. “On behalf of BOAC, we thank you for flying with us today, and look forward to seeing you again.”

Diana and I gathered our belongings and prepared for our landing. She gripped my hand tightly as the plane began its descent, closing her eyes as we taxied down the runway. She still had her eyes closed when we had docked at the gate.

“Love, you can open your eyes now,” I told her, chuckling. She opened them and looked at me with her gorgeous blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, Les,” she said, “I’m a bit nervous when the plane lands – I’m fine with the take-off, but the landing is so scary.” I chuckled.

“That’s all right, love,” I told her, cupping her cheek in my hand. She smiled at me before standing up, as we were allowed to depart.

We entered the airport and made our way to the baggage claim area, where a man was standing next to my luggage, holding a sign that read “Mr. Les Mangrum.” I pointed him out to Diana and we walked towards him.

“Mr. Mangrum?” he asked as we approached him. I nodded. “I’m Frank Withers, and I’m to take you to the office for the board meeting before bringing you back to your hotel. I’m at your disposal throughout your stay here.”

“Thank you,” I told him, and he wheeled the bags in their trolley out the doors. Frank opened the boot of a beige Mercedes-Benz, while I opened the back door for Diana and slid in myself as Frank loaded the car. Diana smiled up at me as I got in the car and wrapped my arm around her, giving her a peck on her lips. Frank finished loading the car, walked around to the front, and started the engine.

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New York seems like such a marvellous place – so vibrant! Everything is bustling with life. It is so unlike London, with its small, cramped buildings and ever-present fog. No, New York, though crowded, is fantastic – so lively. It was fabulous to be able to drive through the city and see all the sights. Too soon, it seemed, we arrived at Les’s office, which was located in the Empire State Building on the 22nd floor.

When we entered his office, we were greeted with balloons, confetti, champagne, and streamers, including a banner that said “Mangrum Defeats Amalgamated!” in large letters. Laughing cheerfully, he accepted a flute of champagne and I did as well, although I hardly ever drink. In fact, I have drunk more champagne in the past forty-eight hours than I have in my entire life! But these past two days have been the most exciting of my life.

Soon, however, the talk turned to business, but that was resolved quickly. It seemed that MacDee – the man who betrayed Les to Amalgamated Motors – wanted to apologise and remain on the Board. Les told him no. His betrayal cut Les too deeply – not just because of its consequences to the business, but because MacDee was his best friend. MacDee left in a huff, and Les did feel guilty about it, though the other members of the Board assured him he was doing the right thing.

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At last, the meeting drew to a close at about two o’clock in the afternoon, and it was time for me to tell the Board about my engagement to Diana. I cleared my throat and stood up.

“I have another announcement to make,” I said, taking Diana’s hand and pulling her up to stand next to me. “Miss Mead and I are engaged, and we are getting married tonight.” A shocked silence fell upon the room before Fordman senior began applauding.

“Congratulations, boy,” he said, clapping a wizened hand on my shoulder. “She’s a sight better that that Marshall woman you were seeing.” Diana blushed and turned her face into my shoulder. Fordman senior took her hand, and she turned to look at him.

“Congratulations, dear,” he told her sincerely. “I think you’ll be good for him. Straighten him out a little. Make him less impulsive.” I thought that Diana would blush and hide her face in my shoulder again, but she did not.

Laughing lightly, she replied, “Thank you, Mr. Fordman. I hope that I am good for him, though I think that he will be good for me too.” She then smiled at him and lightly kissed his cheek. “I know that Les admires you so very much, and it makes me happy that you approve.” Fordman’s eyes twinkled at that and he turned to me.

“Yep, you’ve got yourself a keeper, there, boy – don’t forget it!” With that, the entire room broke out laughing, and I smiled at Diana. She had handled the situation marvellously, making everyone feel more comfortable about our sudden announcement.

“When are you getting married?” Fordman senior wanted to know.

“Tonight,” I responded easily. He nodded sagely.

“Do you have anything arranged?” he asked us. I sheepishly shook my head.

“Well, let me call the missus and have her take your bride-to-be out to get some clothes – I’m presuming that’s why you wanted the month-long leave?” At my nod, he turned to his son. “John,” he said, “Call your mother and have her meet Miss Mead at Saks.” John nodded and went over to the telephone to call his mother. I looked down at Diana.

“Do you want to do this, Diana?” I asked her. She nodded calmly.

“Yes, Les,” she replied, before her eye took on her teasing glint, “After all, you men don’t like shopping, and I’d rather you put your time to a more productive use than just being bored.” She smiled at me, and Fordman senior once again muttered, “Definitely a keeper.”

“All right, father,” John Fordman said, hanging up the telephone. “Mother will meet Miss Mead at Saks in fifteen minutes.”

“Good. Now Les, walk Miss Mead down to the car and then come back here – we have to plan your wedding!”

[KristaMarie]

Update soon dear-- love it!

[Junora]

Wie jetzt?
You know, that's not the nice way. Cruel place to stop, want more.
Update, PLEASE *beg*
*too tired to write whole and right sentence* XD
I love it

Hug Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Four: Breaking Through the Clouds
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A/N: Thank you KristaMarie and Junora for reviewing!

While the events in this chapter may seem impossible, let me assure you that if you are well-known in high society in New York City, everything is possible.

I own Mrs. Fordman, the driver, the assistant at Saks Fifth Avenue and the stationary assistant at Tiffany's. I do not own Duncan Russet - he is based off a family friend who actually is the manager of the wedding and engagement ring floor at Tiffany's.

Les Mangrum's memories are in bold italics.
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Les walked me down to the car and gave the driver the instructions. As he held the door open for me, he gave me a kiss.

“Have a good time, love,” he told me. “Don’t worry about the costs – be extravagant, dear! I’ll see you when you return. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Les,” I replied, and gave him a last kiss before sliding in the car.

We arrived at Saks Fifth Avenue fairly quickly, according to Mr. Withers, the driver, and just as I exited the car, a woman approached me.

“Miss Mead?” she asked me, and I nodded. “Hello, dear,” she said, embracing me. “I’m Betty Fordman.”

“Hello, Mrs. Fordman,” I said somewhat awkwardly.

“Oh, please, dear, call me Betty! Do you mind if I call you Diana?” I told her that I did not mind in the least, and she beamed at me before turning to Mr. Withers.

“Mr. Withers, please meet us here at five o’clock,” she said. He nodded, then re-entered the car and drove back to the office.

Mrs. Fordman – Betty, I reminded myself – linked her arm through mine and led me in to Saks Fifth Avenue. My jaw dropped – I had never seen such a vast array of beautiful clothes in my entire life. Betty laughed at the expression on my face.

“I know it’s a bit overwhelming, dear, but don’t worry! We’ll find you the perfect dress!” She brought me to the escalator and we rode up to the fifth floor. A petite woman with greying blonde hair approached us.

“Mrs. Fordman, lovely to see you again. And you must be Miss Mead! Right this way, please – I’ve taken the liberty of setting aside a few gowns for you.” The woman led us towards the back of the room where there was a rack with quite a few dresses hanging on it. Betty walked up to it and immediately eliminated several.

“These won’t do at all, Amanda,” Betty told her, before rifling through the rack again. “Perhaps this one…” she held up an ivory silk sheath dress to me, before shaking her head. “No, perhaps not…”

An hour and ten dresses later, we had found the perfect one. It was a lovely white silk dress with long sleeves, a bell skirt, and a simple bodice. It fit me perfectly and even made me look somewhat attractive. Betty had Amanda ring it up and then she turned to another rack of clothes that I had not noticed before.

“Now, clothes for your honeymoon,” Betty said, before scrutinising the rack of clothes. This was a much quicker process, and soon there was a large stack of dresses, skirts, Capri pants, shorts, shirts – everything imaginable, including lingerie, stockings, and shoes. I even picked out some new luggage, and they packed all the clothes for my honeymoon.

It was ten past five when we had completed all of our shopping, and we had Saks deliver everything, except the wedding dress, to our hotel room. When we got back into the car, Betty told Mr. Withers to take us to her home, where the wedding would be held at seven o’clock.


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When I returned from escorting my bride-to-be down to the car, Fordman senior sat me down in his private office.

“I’m glad that you finally realised that she was the one for you,” he told me. I looked up at him, startled.

“I didn’t even know it myself until last night – how could you have known?” I asked him.

“Boy, it was evident every time you spoke of her!” he wheezed, laughing. I blushed, and he smiled benevolently.

“Now, your wedding: do you object to having it at my house?” I shook my head.

“Good. It’ll be at seven o’clock this evening. Now, do you have a tuxedo with you?” I nodded – I always pack a formal outfit just in case. “Splendid. Now, we’ll have the reception at my house as well, and Mrs. Fordman has already arranged it. Now, my nephew Ronald is a judge, and he’s agreed to preside over the ceremony.”

My head spun with all the details. I couldn’t believe how generous the Fordmans were being – and how efficient they were at organising! Mr. Fordman’s voice broke into my thoughts.

“Now, where are you planning to go for your honeymoon?”

“Well, Diana and I would like to remain in New York for a few days, and then travel to Australia for a few weeks.”

Mr. Fordman nodded sagely. “Well, as your wedding present, Mrs. Fordman and I have reserved the honeymoon suite at the Plaza Hotel for you and Miss Mead. We’ve also arranged for new wardrobes for both you and Miss Mead. The rest of the Board has paid for you two to be on the H.M.S. Killeen, which departs from Sacramento, California, four days from now, on the third of March, and arrives in Brisbane on the twelfth of March.”

My jaw dropped open in shock. “Th-thank you, sir,” I managed to stutter.

“You’ve earned it, boy, and Miss Mead certainly has too. She is devoted to you – her feelings were evident to me even over a trans-Atlantic phone line! Take good care of her,” he finished. “Oh,” he added, eyes twinkling, “We wouldn’t be averse to having you two lovebirds taking two months for your honeymoon. We can manage things here for that long.” The large grandfather clock in the corner struck three.

“Now, boy,” Mr. Fordman said, “It’s time to go buy your fiancée an engagement ring.”

We arrived at Tiffany’s at three thirty, and were immediately shown to the second floor.

“Ah, Mr. Fordman, Mr. Mangrum,” a brown-haired man said. “I’m Duncan Russet, the manager of the wedding and engagement ring floor, and I’ll be assisting you today,” he said. “Please follow me.” He led us over to a private office and told us to take a seat. He brought a tray of engagement rings over to us for our inspection.

I quickly selected a beautiful ring for Diana – it was not too flashy, as I knew she wouldn’t like that, but it was beautiful – a square-cut diamond in a gold setting, sapphires on either side.

“Excellent selection, Mr. Mangrum,” Duncan said, and placed the ring in a signature Tiffany blue box. He took away the tray with the engagement rings and brought back two trays – one with women’s wedding rings, and one with men’s wedding rings. He immediately indicated two specific rings.

“The engagement ring you selected is part of a set – it has a matching wedding band for men and for women,” he told me. Handing me the woman’s wedding band, I scrutinised it as Duncan handed me the men’s band as well. The woman’s band had small chips of diamonds and sapphires set in gold, and I could tell that Diana would love it. It was not too ostentatious, nor too plain. Though the sapphires did pale in comparison to her gorgeous eyes. The men’s band was a thick gold band the same style as the woman’s wedding band.

“These are perfect,” I told Duncan, and handed them back to him. Mr. Fordman gave me an approving smile and a clap on the back.

“Good choices, boy,” he told me. “Eminently sensible. I think your bride will approve.”

Duncan came back over to us. “Would you like an inscription engraved in the rings?”

I nodded. “Could you engrave today’s date and ‘Forever’ in the wedding bands, please, along with the initials ‘D.J.M.’ and ‘L.W.M.’?” Duncan nodded.

“Would you like anything engraved in the engagement band?” he asked, after writing down my directions for the wedding bands.

“Yes, just the same initials and ‘Forever’, please.” He nodded and added on to the sheet with the instructions. Walking over to his desk, he picked up the phone and spoke into it for a few seconds, before hanging it up.

“If you gentlemen do not mind waiting about an hour, we will have the engravings done,” Duncan told us.

“Thank you,” Mr. Fordman said, before rising from his seat. “We will be on the fifth floor. Come along, Les,” he told me, and I followed him to the elevators.

“Now, I know that you most likely have not thought about wedding registries,” he began, and chuckled at my guilty face. “That’s quite all right – I’m sure that your bride will want to have a say in the decisions. We can pick up forms for you both to fill out later. But I also thought that you would need some stationary to send out wedding announcements. While Mrs. Fordman and I have already given the New York Times, the Daily Mail, the Brisbane Times, and various other newspapers the details of your engagement and wedding, you will still need to send out announcements to your friends, family, colleagues, et cetera. We’ve also given Tiffany’s the details and I’ve gotten a list of people from Miss Mead of whom you will send these to, so all that is left to do is for you to choose the stationary for the announcements, and they will engrave them and send them off.” he said. Once again, my head spun with all the details.

“How do you do all of this, Fordman?” I asked him. He laughed.

“When you’re raised in this type of world, dear boy, it is as simple as breathing! And, of course,” here he winked at me, “Being raised in this world also gives you connections every place it matters.”

I never realised how complicated America could be! “Thank you, Mr. Fordman,” I once again told him.

“My pleasure, my boy, my pleasure,” he said. We had reached the stationary counter, and a woman immediately came over with a display of different types of stationary.

“Hello Mr. Fordman, Mr. Mangrum,” she said, laying the display on the counter. “Here are the samples you requested,” she continued, indicating the display. I leaned forward to look at the samples.

After much deliberation, I chose a plain cream-coloured card with a small gold image of Australia embossed on the top.

“Excellent choice, Mr. Mangrum,” the woman told me, before whisking the display away and returning with a list of names that I vaguely remember Diana writing out on the plane. I began to read the list.

Mr. and Mrs. Lester Mangrum, Sr.; Brisbane, Australia

Mr. Gregory Mead; Ilford, England

Mr. and Mrs. George Mangrum; Brisbane, Australia

Mr. and Mrs. John Fordman, Sr.; New York, New York

Mr. John Fordman, Jr.; New York, New York

Mr. and Mrs. Laurence Seeler; New York, New York

Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Warwick; New York, New York

Mr. and Mrs. David Kingsford; London, England

Mr. and Mrs. Paul Andros; London, England

The list continued, and only one person’s name was missing. Taking a pen that lay on the counter, I added the only person my fiancée had left off – out of good manners, I supposed – though I wanted to add her anyway.

Miss Miriam Marshall; London, England

Looking at the added name, Mr. Fordman let out a loud guffaw at my addition.

“Rubbing it in, eh, my boy?” he asked me.

“Not at all,” I replied, trying unsuccessfully to repress my smirk. “Just giving her what she deserves.”

He looked back down at the list, and then looked at me curiously. “Is it related to the reason Mr. and Mrs. Paul Andros are on this list as well?” I nodded. “Where did you get the money to cover that check, Les?”

I grinned before recounting the events of last night.

Miriam broke the kiss, startling me out of my reverie. “Oh, my poor darling,” she said, stroking my hair.

“Oh, don’t worry, my love,” I said half-heartedly. “I’ll be all right, just so long as I’ve got you.”

“Of course,” she replied. “Baby?” she asked me, “Do you remember those shares in the company you gave me?”

My heart was suffused with a warm glow at the generosity of her question. Miriam was a wonderful woman. “Of course I do. You keep them, darling. They cannot help me now. That was sweet of you to think of that,” I told her, bringing a hand to her soft cheek and caressing it.

“You mean they’re not worth anything anymore?” she asked me, frowning.

“On the contrary,” I replied, “They’re gonna go way, way up.”

She clapped her hands in delight. “How marvellous! I thought after all you told me, that I was going to be just as broke as you were.” She smiled happily at her stroke of good fortune. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she added, realising what she had just said. “I’m sorry.”

I was appalled. Did she really only think about herself when I told her about my troubles? Obviously, she did. Luckily, I was saved from having to say anything to her by a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“Miss Mead.”

I sighed in relief. “Just a minute,” I called out, walking to the door. She was smiling, and I felt myself grow angry with her. How could she be smiling? She knew just as well as I did, probably better than I did, what we lost today. All because of that damned fog that kept me from getting to New York in time.

“What do you want, dear?” I snapped. Her mood was not dampened even by one iota.

“I’d like you to endorse a cheque, please, Mr. Mangrum,” she told me.

“Couldn’t it wait till tomorrow morning?” I groused.

She smiled again, causing my temper to rise even further. “No, I don’t think it could.” I snatched the cheque from her hands and signed the back without even looking at the amount, before handing it back to her.

“Good,” she said. “I think you should read it, Mr. Mangrum. You should never sign things blind.” She handed the cheque back to me. I looked at it, staring at the amount.

£153,750.

Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

“I’d better take it,” Miss Mead said, trying to take the cheque from my hands. “It has to be in your bank by 10 o’clock in the morning.” I grabbed it back.

“Wait a minute,” I told her. “What’s this?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” she said, still trying to get the cheque back. “We don’t want to bother Miss Marshall with business, do we?” she added.

“You’re not trying to tell me that’s real?” I asked her, still looking at the amount.

£153,750.

“Oh yes, it’s quite real. He signed it for me downstairs in the lounge. I filled in the amount myself,” she said, indicating the amount of £153,750. “It is quite correct.”

“You?” I asked, pointing at her. She nodded.

“Wow. Just – just – wow,” I stammered, before regaining my speech ability. I punched the air and yelled “Wahoo! You little beauty!” I wrapped my arms around Miss Mead’s slender waist and spun her around, feeling startled by the spark of attraction that ran through me when her bare skin met mine as I pressed my cheek to hers. Her laughter sounded like music.

“Oh, Mr. Mangrum, please!” she protested, giggling.

“You little – you bloody humdinger!” I shouted, jumping on the ottoman.

“Mr. Mangrum!” Miss Mead exclaimed again, still laughing.

“Have you gone mad?” Miriam asked me. I ignored her.

Miss Mead walked towards me and held out her hand for the cheque. “I’d better go before the police get here,” she said.

“No, no, no, stay a little. I got work to do. Listen. Get Fordman senior in New York right away,” I told her. She immediately morphed into the competent, familiar secretary.

“Fordman,” she repeated.

“After that,” I continued, “Kingsford. Dave Kingsford. You got his private number?”

She rummaged through her portfolio. “I think so. Somewhere,” she said.

Miriam interrupted us. “Are you going to do business?” I ignored her again.

“Listen, you’ll probably have to extend the options by 24 hours,” I continued.

Miriam interrupted us again. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, wait a minute,” I said, addressing Miss Mead. “You’ll have to up the price.” I paused for a minute. “I – we got them. Amalgamated Motors is beaten,” I said, awed.

“Yes, Mr. Mangrum,” Miss Mead said, smiling.

“They’ve had it. We’ve beaten them,” I repeated. “Listen –” a door slamming interrupted my chain of thought. “What’s that?” I asked her.

“Miss Marshall, going,” Miss Mead replied.

“Yeah, well.” I was relieved, and allowed myself a moment to bask in that feeling before continuing to give Miss Mead orders. It was over an hour before we finished up for the night.

“I see,” Mr. Fordman told me, before chuckling again. “Yes, your fiancée is a keeper, my boy!”

The woman returned to collect the list of addresses, and then told us that Duncan was waiting for us downstairs with the finished rings. I looked at my watch and started – it was five o’clock already! We hurried downstairs, picked up the rings, and exited the store, where Mr. Fordman’s driver was waiting for us. We entered the car and were driven uptown to the Fordman’s house.

[Junora]

As wonderful as ever, what can I say.

Oh and btw sweet banner.

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Thanks! I'm almost finished the next chapter as well, so it should be up later today.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Five: Clear Skies
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A/N: Thank you Junora for your reviews!

There is a lemon in this chapter, so enjoy!

I own Mrs. Fordman, the Fordman's servants, Les Mangrum's parents, and Diana Mead's father.
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When we arrived at the Fordman’s townhouse, my jaw dropped in awe. The limestone façade was delicately carved with all number of mythical beasts, and the inside was even more impressive. Expensive Persian carpets, mahogany furniture, and sparkling crystal decorated every room. Mrs. Fordman led me up the wide staircase and opened a door on the second floor of their home.

It was a dressing room, tastefully decorated and equipped with everything I could possibly need – including a quick but well-prepared dinner. I bolted it down as quickly and neatly as I could. When I was finished, Betty rang for her maid, and the empty tray was taken away. The maid returned with my wedding dress and the rest of my attire. Betty left the room as the maid helped me with the application of my make-up, coiffing my hair, and getting into the dress. At ten minutes to seven, I was ready, and Mr. and Mrs. Fordman came up to see me.

“Thank you both so much,” I told them sincerely. “You both have been ever so kind, and I doubt I could ever repay the generosity you two have shown to us.”

Mr. Fordman shook his head. “Not necessary, Miss Mead,” he told me. “You have done wonders for us already.”

“Pardon?” I asked him, confused at what he meant.

“You’ve saved the company, made Les happy, and gotten rid of that broad Marshall – all in one fell swoop!” he chuckled. Betty swatted him on the arm.

“Watch your language, please, John!” she exclaimed before turning to me.

“Well, dear, you have made Les happier than I’ve ever seen him, and we all have you to thank for saving the company. But most of all you’ve been so polite to us as well during your brief time here, and we’re glad to help you any way we can.”

“Thank you,” I told them, overwhelmed.

“Now, I do believe that it’s time for the wedding!” Betty exclaimed. “Let’s go, dear,” she said to me. I turned to Mr. Fordman.

“Mr. Fordman, as my own father isn’t here with me today, will you do me the honour of giving me away?” I asked him.

“Of course, my dear,” he said, his voice wavering. He took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes before extending his arm to me and escorting me down the stairs. We stopped at the doors to the parlour, and the wedding march began to play. One of the Fordman’s menservants opened the doors, and we stepped inside.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The moment the doors to the parlour opened, I thought that I had died and somehow made it to heaven. Diana looked like an angel in her white dress, and she seemed to float down the aisle towards me. I could not take my eyes off her.

The ceremony went by quickly – I barely paid attention, as my thoughts were on the gorgeous creature beside me. Finally, the judge announced, “You may kiss the bride!” I didn’t waste any time, but bent my head and wrapped my arms around my wife’s waist, pulling her towards me even as she looped her arms around my neck. Our lips met, and our kiss lasted until we ran out of air. When we broke apart, I looked into her beautiful blue eyes and told her that I loved her. I felt as though there was no one else in the world, save for Diana and me.

That feeling was broken when someone popped the cork out of a champagne bottle, and Diana and I let ourselves be swept away in the festivities. The time we stayed at the Fordman’s passed intolerably slowly – I just wanted to be alone with my bride, and I could tell that she felt the same. Finally, we bid our hosts and guests adieu and were shown into our car, taking us to the Plaza Hotel.

I brought a hand up to her face, gently caressing her cheek. “I love you so, Diana,” I told her. “I love you so.” She smiled at me and wrapped her arms around my neck, bringing my head down for a kiss.

“And I love you, Les,” she replied before kissing me again.

Thankfully, our ride to the Plaza Hotel was quick, and we were allowed to go straight up to our suite.

“It’s marvellous!” Diana gasped as we entered the expansive rooms.

“Yes, it is, darling,” I agreed, nuzzling the back of her neck. She turned around and looked at me coyly.

“Well, Mr. Mangrum,” she began in a seductive tone of voice, “Would you care to help your wife out of her wedding dress?”

I nodded eagerly, bringing my hands around to her back to undo the buttons holding the dress up. Diana had brought her hands between us and pushed my tuxedo jacket off my shoulders, letting it slip to the floor. Next came the bowtie and cummerbund, followed by the waistcoat. I released the last button on her dress as she began unbuttoning my shirt, and she paused in her task of undressing me to step out of the gown now puddled on the floor.

I was instantly aroused as I allowed my eyes to wander over her perfect figure. She was wearing a gorgeous white lace brassiere and matching knickers, but as my eyes travelled lower, my mouth went dry as I saw her flawless legs enhanced by sheer, knee-high tights. As my eyes travelled back up her body, I saw that she was looking at me, amused.

“Do you like what you see?” she asked me, smiling demurely.

I took a step towards her and captured her lips with mine, ravaging them as I scooped her up into my arms. I carried her over to the large bed and laid her in the middle, taking a few steps backwards to see her fully.

“Yes, I do like what I see, Mrs. Mangrum,” I told her, watching as she broke out into a smile at the sound of her new name.

“Come here, Les, please,” she begged, stretching out her arms to me. I shook my head playfully and finished unbuttoning my shirt, tossing it behind me. Taking another step closer to her, I let my tuxedo pants fall on the floor. I had already removed my socks and shoes, and after letting my pants fall to the floor, I finally walked to the side of the bed, sitting down next to her.

“Yes, love?” I asked her. She sat up on the bed, shifting her weight so that she was sitting on my lap. I groaned as she wrapped her legs around my waist, pressing herself against my aching erection. I brought my hands behind her and unhooked her brassiere, tossing it behind me. I cupped her perfect breasts in my hands, running my thumbs along their contours before bending down and taking a pert nipple in my mouth. Her head dropped back and a purr slipped from the back of her throat as my tongue played with it, and I brought a hand up to her other breast, rolling her nipple gently between my fingers.

“Oh, God, Les!” she cried out as my hands travelled lower, caressing the curve of her calves, gently rolling down her stockings. When her stockings had joined the rest of our clothes on the floor, I pulled down her knickers and my boxers as well. I rose up on my knees to take in the sight of her nude form, and was surprised when she grasped my erection and pulled me down on top of her.

“I need you, Les,” she whispered in my ear, moaning as one of my hands slipped between her legs. She arched her back involuntarily. “Oh, God, Les!” she cried again as I raised my hips slightly, sliding my length against her. She once more wrapped her legs around my waist and held me close; biting down hard on her lip as I finally entered her.

I gave her a few moments to adjust, but I could not restrain myself from moving within her as she rotated her hips against mine. It wasn’t long before she came in a rush, calling out my name. The sound of my name from her lips increased my arousal, and I continued to pump and thrust within her. She came again, and as her walls tightened around me, I let myself go, collapsing on top of her.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I lay in my husband’s embrace, nestled against his warm body, my head pressed against his chest and my legs entangled with his.

“I love you, Les,” I said, looking up at him. He smiled and bent his head, caressing my lips with his own.

“I love you, too, Diana,” he told me. His hands pulled me closer to him, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

“Are you happy?” he asked me suddenly.

“Yes!” I exclaimed, not even needing to think. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“Nor have I, love,” he said. “Nor have I.” I nestled further into his embrace and smiled against his chest as he nuzzled my damp hair.

“Oh, before I forget – Mr. Fordman has arranged for us to stay here for three more nights, then we are to fly out to Sacramento, California, and board the HMS Killeen, which will take us to Australia. It’s a nine day trip, and we arrive in Brisbane, where my parents live. And the Board has insisted that we take two months off for our honeymoon – do you approve?” Les said.

“Oh, yes!” I replied, overwhelmed. “That will be wonderful.”

“In addition, Mr. Fordman reminded me that we will have to do a bridal registry…” I laid my fingers over his lips, stopping his explanation.

“I’ve done it already, Les,” I told him. He smiled down at me.

“You really are the most perfect woman ever,” he said, stroking my hair. I opened my mouth to retort, but it was his turn to lay his fingers over my mouth.

“You are, my darling,” he said firmly. I rolled my eyes in acquiescence, and he laughed, before looking out the window. It was black as pitch, save for the lights of the buildings.

“Do you know what time it is, love?” he asked me. I reached for the clock on the nightstand next to the bed.

“It’s eleven o’clock, Les,” I told my husband. He reached for the phone.

“We should call our parents, my love, and tell them in person,” he said, before turning his attention to the phone. “Yes, can you get me International, please, London,” he said, before continuing with my father’s name and address. When the call came through, he handed the phone to me.

“Hello?” I heard my father ask.

“Hello, Daddy, it’s Diana,” I said nervously.

“Ah, hello, darling, how wonderful to hear from you! Why are you calling from New York?” he asked me curiously.

“Daddy, are you sitting down?” I asked him. I could hear a chair being pulled out.

“Yes, now I am, darling,” he said.

“All right, good, because I have some very important news for you. Daddy, I’ve gotten married.” I heard a loud clunk.

“Daddy?” I asked worriedly.

“Sorry, Diana, I dropped the telephone. Did you say you’ve gotten married?” he asked me.

“Yes, Daddy, I have,” I told him. Les squeezed my knee reassuringly, and I smiled wanly at him.

“So, you finally stopped pining for your employer, then, dear? Splendid! Now, who have you married?”

“Um, actually, Daddy, I’ve married Les,” I told him. There was silence on the line.

“Daddy?” I asked.

“Is your husband there, Diana?” my father asked me.

“Yes, he is.”

“Good. I would like to speak to him, please,” my father told me.

I handed the telephone to Les. “He wants to speak to you, darling,” I said nervously. He gave me a comforting smile before putting an arm around my shoulder and holding the telephone between us.

“Hello, Mr. Mead?” my husband asked.

“Yes. I presume you are my new son-in-law?” my father’s voice returned.

“Yes, sir, that is correct,” he said.

“Do you love my daughter?” he asked my husband.

“With all my heart,” my husband replied without any hesitation.

“Good,” my father said gruffly. “Because I don’t care if you’re the president of Mangrum Tractors or the bloody Pope, because if you hurt my daughter, you’ll wish you were never born,” my father threatened. I felt all the blood drain from my face, but Les stayed calm.

“I certainly have no intention of harming her, sir,” he told my father. “In fact, I have a request to make of you.”

My father grew suspicious. “What is it?”

My husband continued. “Diana and I are travelling to Australia for part of our honeymoon – we leave on the third of March from Sacramento, and arrive in Brisbane, where my parents live, on the twelfth. We would be honoured if you would join us in Australia on the twelfth and have the chance to get to know my family and me. Of course, I will cover the expenses,” he finished.

My father cleared his throat. “That’s very kind. I accept,” he said.

“Thank you, Mr. Mead. I’ll have the details sent to you tomorrow.”

“All right. Can you put my daughter back on the line, please?” Les handed me the phone.

“Yes, Daddy?”

“He seems to be half-way decent, though I’m reserving my judgement until I meet him.”

“I know you’ll like him, Daddy,” I said.

“I hope so. Now, I’ll let you go darling, and I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” I said, before hanging up the phone.

“Were you serious about inviting my father down to Australia?” I asked Les.

“Yes, Mr. Fordman and I had already made the arrangements. Are you all right with that?” he asked worriedly.

“Oh, yes!” I replied. “I’m glad that you thought of it.” He pecked me on the lips before once more picking up the telephone.

“Yes, International, please, Brisbane, Australia,” he said into the phone. Soon he was talking to his mother.

“Hello, Mum,” he said into the phone.

“Hello, my dear! How are you?” his mother replied.

“Well, Mum, I have some very exciting and happy news for you and Dad. Where is he?”

“He’s downstairs, would you like me to get him on the line as well?” she asked him.

“Yes, please, Mum,” my husband told his mother, and we waited for his mother and father to come back on the line.

“Hello, son,” his father said.

“Hello, Dad. Is Mum standing next to you?”

“Yes, I’m here, darling!” I heard his mother say.

“All right. I have some wonderful news for you both. I’ve gotten married!” Silence reigned for a few seconds.

“To whom?” his mother asked, voice filled with dread.

“To my former secretary Miss Diana Mead,” my husband told them. I could hear their sighs of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness!” his mother exclaimed.

“Thank God you had enough sense to dump that Marshall woman,” his father added.

My husband laughed. “Anyway, Diana and I will be in Brisbane on the twelfth – we’re coming in on the HMS Killeen.”

“Wonderful, son!” his father exclaimed. “We’ll fix up your old room.”

“Thank you,” Les told them. “And I have a favour to ask you both – Diana’s father will be flying in to Brisbane that day – we can pick him up at the airport, but can he stay at the house?”

“Of course, dear,” his mother said. “That will be fine. I’ll fix up the guest quarters as well.”

“Well, it must be late there, son, so we’ll let you go,” Les’s father said. “We’ll see both soon.”

“All right. I love you both,” he said, hanging up the phone. He replaced the telephone on the nightstand.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your father, love,” Les told me.

“I’m looking forward to meeting your parents as well,” I returned, before yawning.

“Tired, my love?” he asked me. I nodded sleepily.

“Then let’s go to sleep, shall we?” Curling up into his embrace, he turned off the light and we drifted off to sleep.

[Junora]

Wonderful, in fact so wonderful that I forgot my pizza over the story and now it's burned.
XD
All your fault. XD *grin*

Hugs Lottie

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Six: Sunshiny Day
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A/N: Thank you Junora for reviewing! There are some lemons in this chapter. The next one should be up soon - it has quite a dramatic twist to it!
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I woke up early the next morning, and was pleased to see that Diana was still asleep, curled up against me. The blankets had slipped down off the bed during the night, and I could see all of her gorgeous body. I ran a hand down her back, over her buttocks and back up again, and I felt her shiver under my touch. As my hand continued its journey, I felt her awaken with a moan.

“Mmm, Les,” she whispered, looking up at me.

“Good morning, Mrs. Mangrum,” I said, smiling, “Did you sleep well?”

“Oh, yes, Mr. Mangrum,” she replied, rolling me onto my back and lying on top of me. “I slept so very well. Did you?” she asked as she ran her hands down my chest.

“Yes, I did, Mrs. Mangrum,” I told her, moaning as one of her meandering hands slipped lower.

“Good,” she said, as her other hand joined the first in her explorations, one hand cupping my balls and the other stroking my shaft.

I couldn’t take much more, so I placed one hand on her buttocks and the other between her shoulder blades and brought her beneath me. Looking into my eyes, she slowly guided me into her, moaning as I filled her completely. I knelt on the bed and brought her legs up to my shoulders, beginning to thrust harder as she neared her climax.

“Les, please, harder faster more, please Les, please!” she cried out as she came, and I obliged her. She peaked again, and again, before the combination of her tightening walls around me, the sheer beauty of her face as she climaxed, and my own unbearable level of arousal caused my own orgasm.

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“I never imagined that making love would be so… incredible,” I told Les, and he laughed.

“Making love to you, my darling, is more wonderful than any other experience I have had,” he said, stroking my damp hair.

I shifted so that I could look into his eyes. “Even though I’m so… inexperienced?” I asked him.

“That doesn’t matter, Diana,” he told me. “Just the way you respond, the way you look as you come, the feel of you around me… just everything about you makes making love to you a sublime experience.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, Les,” I told him, relieved that I wasn’t as disappointing in bed as I feared I would be.

“I am so glad that I came to my senses,” my husband told me, beginning to stroke my hair once more.

“I am, too,” I replied, kissing his chest lightly. I laughed as I felt his stomach rumble.

“I suppose it’s time for brekky,” my husband said. I extricated myself from his embrace with some difficulty, as he tried to grab me and keep me from leaving the bed. I finally managed to get away for a brief moment, stopping in the bathroom to grab two terrycloth robes, then stopping in the parlour to retrieve the menus for room service.

I laid the robes on the end of the bed and snuggled back up with my husband, opening the room service menu.

“What are the robes for?” Les asked me.

“Well, I don’t think you’d want me answering the door for room service in the nude!” I laughed. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer to him, nibbling on the side of my neck.

“Mmm, quite right,” he murmured against my skin. “You’re mine, and mine alone,” he continued, and I moaned.

“Breakfast, Les, breakfast…” I trailed off as his lips moved from my neck to my collarbone, finally reaching my breasts. He pulled me onto his lap, and I could feel his erection growing against my thigh.

“Later, my darling, later – we have all the time in the world,” he whispered as he kissed his way down my chest, kneeling between my legs as he reached my centre. His tongue flicked out, and I felt my own desire increase almost intolerably. My back arched involuntarily, and I heard my voice calling out to him as I came. When I collapsed back against the mattress, he kissed his way back up my body and thrust into me. My legs automatically wrapped themselves above his narrow hips, and my hips bucked with his as he pounded into me.

“Oh, Diana, Diana, Diana, my darling one, my only, my wife; Diana, Diana, Diana,” he cried as he came.

“Yes, Les, yes!” I called out as his release completed my own. We lay there for a few moments before his stomach rumbled again, mine joining his.

“Now, how about that breakfast?” he asked me, and I giggled, picking up the room service menu from the floor and settling next to him so we could choose our meal.

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After my lovely bride and I fed each other breakfast, we decided to explore the suite more thoroughly. We had a lovely balcony with a view of Central Park, as well as a table and chairs that we could use to dine outside.

“Diana, darling!” I called out to her, and she walked over to me, shrugging on a dressing gown.

“Yes?” she asked as she reached me.

“Look at this view!”

She stepped out onto the balcony and gasped, taking in the unusual sight of an enormous park inside a bustling city.

“Oh, it’s gorgeous!” she breathed as she leaned against the rail, my arms around her slim waist.

“Not nearly as gorgeous as you, my darling,” I told her, nuzzling her neck. Her breathing quickened, and I pulled her inside, not wanting to put ourselves on display to whomever might be looking. She took my hand and led me into the parlour, pushing me down on a deep sofa. She untied the knot holding my dressing gown together, and opened the robe to free my erection.

She stepped back, smiling at me, and began to slowly untie the knot keeping her own dressing gown in place. Her eyes darkened as I felt my erection grow larger and twitch as I watched her disrobe for me. She dropped the robe on the floor behind her and sat down on my lap, straddling me, and held my cock in place as she slid slowly down onto it.

“Diana…” I heard myself moan as her wet heat took me in entirely. “Diana…”

She ran her hands up and down my chest, burying her fingers in the flat whorls of hair as she began to rise and fall on my erect cock. She leaned forward and captured my lips with hers, running her tongue along my bottom lip and sucking on it.

I brought a hand down to her clitoris and began to rub it in time as she still raised and lowered herself on top of me. With a gasp, she began to come, and I moved both my hands to her buttocks, pulling her down on top of me as I reached my own climax.

We collapsed on the couch, rolling so that we could lie down on it together, fully stretched out and still joined. I caught one of her slender legs between my own, her other leg thrown over my hips.

“I love you, Diana,” I said to my wife. “I hope that you never tire of me saying that.”

“I don’t think that I ever could, Les,” she replied, smiling. “I’ve been in love with you for so long… I do think that you will have to tell me constantly to convince me that this isn’t a remarkable dream I’m having.”

“No dream, my darling, unless two people can dream the same thing at once,” I told her.

“Good,” she said. “I love you so much, Les – and I hope that, if this is a dream, I never wake up.”

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“Do you want children, Diana?” my husband asked me as we lay in bed that night.

“Yes, eventually,” I told him.

“Would you like to have mine?” he asked me. I giggled and slapped him playfully on the chest.

“No, Les. I married you because I didn’t want to have your children,” I told him sarcastically. I laughed at the expression on his face. “Yes, darling, of course I want to have your children!”

“How many do you want, love?” he asked me, rubbing circles on my back.

“Well, I’ve always wanted at least three – two boys and a girl,” I told him. “And I’ve never wanted more than seven.”

“Mmm…” he said, moving his hand from where it stroked my back around to my abdomen.

“How many children would you like?” I asked him.

“As many as you want, love, as many as you want.”

“Good,” I murmured, his soft touches lulling me to sleep. “Where would we raise them?” I asked him sleepily.

“Perhaps Australia, perhaps England,” he said, yawning. “We’ll see when we get there.”

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We spent most of the next day in bed, making love, until we had to check out of the hotel and catch our flight to Sacramento. Diana and I slept the entire way there, as we were both worn out from making love as often as we had over the past few days. When we arrived at our hotel, we both collapsed in bed after Diana insisted on having the front desk give us a wake-up call as well as setting our alarm clock.

“We might sleep through one,” she argued, and I acquiesced quickly. We had sent ahead most of our luggage to be stored in our quarters on the ship, and we each had a small overnight bag. We snuggled up together in bed, talking, and woke up completely disoriented the next morning when the telephone rang with our wake-up call. We had slept through our alarm clock.

“Yes, yes, Diana, no need to say, “I told you so,”” I said to her teasingly.

“You said it, I did not,” she retorted, laughing, as she laid out her clothes for today.

I used the loo first, changing into a pair of soft corduroy trousers, a white polo-neck shirt, an old woollen jumper, my sheepskin jacket, and a worn pair of boating shoes. When I emerged from the loo, Diana was just slipping into a new cocoa-coloured cashmere sweater dress, which looked marvellous on her. It had long sleeves and a turtleneck collar, and it fell just past her knees.

“You look stunning, love,” I said, wrapping my arms around her waist.

“Thank you – I did hope that you would like this dress,” she replied.

“I do,” I said, kissing her lips, “Though I am not too fond of the collar – it prevents me from kissing your delightful neck.”

“That’s why I chose this dress, darling,” she said, pulling down the collar, revealing several love-bites on the otherwise pristine white column of her throat. I grinned sheepishly.

“Sorry, love – I cannot resist you,” I told her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me deeply, before pulling back and gathering her things together.

“I think we will be late, dear, if we don’t leave now,” she said over her shoulder. I looked at my watch – she was right, as always. We quickly checked out of the hotel and caught a taxi to the dock. We produced our passports and were shown aboard. A steward took our overnight bags and showed us to our quarters. We were on one of the upper decks, and had a porthole that faced the sea. Everything seemed tiny, though, compared to our suite at the Plaza Hotel, though I didn’t mind. As long as Diana was with me, everything was perfect.

[KristaMarie]

Well, you go to a christening/wedding and BBQ for a day and you miss three chapters!

I love, love, love it and can't wait for more. Please update soon!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Seven: A Squall at Sea
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A/N: Thank you KristaMarie for the review!

I own the HMS Killeen, the Purser, and the waiter - I do not own anything else.
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Our quarters aboard the HMS Killeen were charming, although it did bother Les slightly that the doorways were so low. He had to be very careful not to hit his head on the doorframe.

After setting our things down in our cabin, we went back onto the main deck and waved to everyone who had gathered to see the ship off, even though we didn’t know any one. It was lovely, just standing there on deck, Les’s arms wrapped around my waist as the brisk sea air whipped around us.

When we could no longer see the shore, Les and I made our way around the ship, exploring. There seemed to be many things to do – there was a squash court on the bottom level, as well as a weight room. There were several bars, quite a few restaurants in addition to the main dining room, a spacious library, and even a cinema. There was also a ballroom, and Les promised me that we’d go dancing at least once on the trip.

We had only explored a small portion of the ship before our stomachs alerted us to the fact that it was lunch. Making our way to the main dining room, we were seated quickly at a small square table, and were given menus. Les pulled out my chair for me, then took the seat next to me, instead of across from me as was most likely expected. He rested a hand on my knee and squeezed it lightly, smiling as I flushed with pleasure.

Les ordered steak au poivre, and I ordered chicken cordon bleu. As the sommelier came by to pour the wine, a woman called Les’s name.

“Darling, I didn’t know you were going to be on this ship!” Miriam Marshall said, bending down and kissing Les on the lips. He did not respond, and gently pushed her away from him.

“Hello, Miriam, I did not realise that you would be here either – I’m here on my honeymoon,” he replied, smiling at me. Miss Marshall turned and looked at me.

“Oh, hello, Miss Mead,” she said snidely, before turning back to Les. “Where is your wife? Is she anyone that I know?”

“Yes, I do believe you have met her before. Diana, you do remember Miriam, don’t you, darling?” he said, taking my hand in his and kissing it lightly. He smiled at me, eyes glinting in amusement. I tried valiantly to suppress my smirk, and barely succeeded.

“Of course; how do you do, Miss Marshall?” I asked her, extending my hand. Her jaw dropped, before she broke out into laughter.

“Quite an amusing joke, darling,” she said to Les. “Now really, who have you married?”

Les took my left hand in his and extended it to Miss Marshall, showing her the wedding and engagement bands on my third finger.

“I have married Diana,” he told her again. Her face twisted in anger, and she took a seat at our table.

“How could you prefer her over me?” she asked him, her tone soft yet furious. “Would that little bitch only give you the money to save your company if you married her?”

Les stood up sharply. “Do you want to know why I married Diana instead of you? Because she loves me and I love her – because she doesn’t care if I am the President of Mangrum Tractors, a farmhand, or a gaolbird. You only cared about the money – that’s all you care about still. Well, I don’t care about you,” he spat, “You are nothing to me. I only regret that I wasted so much time with you that I could have spent with Diana.” He squeezed my hand and sat back down, but she hadn’t finished with us yet.

“Oh, really?” she asked me. “Who is it that supported your dreams from the beginning? Who comforted you when you lost the company last week?”

As Miss Marshall began her rant, I discreetly signalled to one of the waiters, who immediately rushed over.

“Is everything all right here, Mr. and Mrs. Mangrum?” he asked us, looking down at Miss Marshall with distaste.

“No, it isn’t,” Les told the waiter. “This woman is distressing my wife and disturbing us.”

The waiter levered Miss Marshall out of her chair by her arm and escorted her to the door, before turning to the host and making sure she would not be allowed in the main dining room again. He then returned to our table.

“I’m terribly sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Mangrum,” the waiter began. “She will not be bothering you here again. Is there anything I can get for you?” he asked.

I nodded. “A bitter lemon, please,” I said. He nodded briskly and walked away to fetch my drink.

Les turned to me worriedly. “Are you all right, darling?” he asked me. “You look rather flushed.”

“I’m sure I will be fine once I’ve had something to eat,” I replied. I was feeling rather awful after being faced with Miss Marshall.

“If you’re sure…” he trailed off as the waiter returned with my bitter lemon.

“I’m sure,” I told him, squeezing his hand reassuringly.

By the time we had finished our meal, I was feeling much better – the jet lag, combined with the shock of seeing Miss Marshall again under such poor circumstances, as well as the lack of food in my stomach had made me feel slightly ill, though by the end of the meal, I had relaxed enough to enjoy myself again.

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I could not believe that Miriam was on this trip – it seemed too strange to be a coincidence. Her sudden appearance disturbed Diana greatly – and me as well. As soon as we finished our lunch and as soon as I was sure that Diana was feeling well enough to be on her own, I left her on the “V.I.P.” sundeck and made my way to the Purser’s office.

“Have there been any messages for me?” I asked the Purser.

“Ah, Mr. Mangrum. Yes, there have been two telegrams for you. Here you are,” the Purser said, placing the two telegrams in an envelope and handing it to me. “Is there anything more I can do for you, sir?” he asked.

“No, thank you, not at this time,” I replied, and made my way back up to Diana.

“Hello, darling,” I said as I took a seat in the lounge chair next to her. She looked up from the book she was reading and smiled at me.

“Did you have any messages, Les?” she asked me. I retrieved the envelope from my pants pocket.

“Yes, two messages,” I said, taking the first telegram out of the envelope. It was from Mr. Fordman senior.

BETTY AND I WISH YOU A HAPPY HONEYMOON STOP WE HOPE THAT YOU TWO ENJOY YOURSELVES IMMENSELY STOP WISH YOU ALL THE BEST STOP LOVE JOHN AND BETTY FORDMAN SENIOR STOP

“Oh, that’s lovely!” my wife exclaimed as she read the telegram from over my shoulder. I put that telegram back in the envelope and removed the second and final one.

HAVE BAD NEWS STOP JUST DISCOVERED THAT MACDEE AND MIRIAM MARSHALL ARE ON HMS KILLEEN AS WELL STOP DO NOT KNOW HOW THEY KNEW YOU WERE ON THE SHIP AS WELL STOP THEY BOOKED THEIR TICKETS LAST NIGHT STOP ALERT PURSER IMMEDIATELY IF ANY TROUBLE WITH THEM STOP PLEASE REPLY STOP JOHN FORDMAN SENIOR STOP

“Oh, no,” I heard my wife say as she took the telegram from my numb hands. I couldn’t move.

“Les, darling, we need to send a telegram to Mr. Fordman,” my wife told me, getting to her feet. She took my hand, and the feel of her skin against mine jarred me out of my trance.

“Right, love,” I replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and holding her tightly. As we went down the narrow staircases, she kept her hands reassuringly on my shoulders. We finally made it to the Purser’s office, and he closed the door in order to give us privacy.

I showed the Purser the telegram from Mr. Fordman, and he leapt immediately into action. He released a crew-wide memorandum stating that Miriam and MacDee should not be allowed in any of the V.I.P. areas, and they should not be allowed near us as well.

After the Purser was satisfied, I sent a telegram to Mr. Fordman.

MR FORDMAN STOP THANK YOU FOR THE WARNING STOP WE HAVE ALREADY ENCOUNTERED MIRIAM MARSHALL AND INFORMED THE PURSER OF THE CIRCUMSTANCES STOP MEASURES HAVE BEEN TAKEN TO PREVENT ANOTHER CONFRONTATION WITH THEM STOP OTHER THAN THAT WE HAVE HAD A FINE HONEYMOON STOP DIANA AND I ARE ETERNALLY GRATEFUL TO YOU AND MRS FORDMAN FOR THE LOVELY WEDDING STOP WILL SEE YOU IN TWO MONTHS STOP LES MANGRUM STOP

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“I’m sorry, Diana,” my husband said later, when we returned to our cabin after dinner.

“Whatever for, darling?” I asked him, leaning against his chest.

“For not giving you a better honeymoon,” he said, his chin resting on top of my head. I turned around and looked at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” I exclaimed. “Just because Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee are here does not mean that this has been a horrible honeymoon – it has been wonderful, except that confrontation with Miss Marshall. But you couldn’t have known that they would be on board, and as long as we continue to enjoy ourselves, then they won’t succeed at whatever they are trying to do.”

“Ah, my darling bride, how did I ever live without you?” he asked me, kissing me lightly.

I smiled and returned his kisses. When we broke for air, his eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Let’s go dancing, my love!” he exclaimed, and I eagerly agreed. Looking through the closet, I found a perfect dress for that evening – a dark blue silk gown that dipped low in the back and had a slit up the side, though quite a modest neckline. My engagement and wedding rings went marvellously with the dress, and Les produced two boxes from his tuxedo pocket.

“Here you are, my love,” he said, holding the boxes out to me. “Something to accentuate the dress – not that you need it, but I thought you might enjoy them.” Inside the boxes were a pair of sapphire and diamond earrings and a matching sapphire and diamond choker, both of which went wonderfully with my engagement and wedding bands. I had covered up the love-bites that Les had left on me with powder, but was glad of the choker that would further obscure them from view.

Les looked dashing in his white tuxedo, and as I looked in the mirror at the two of us, I wished aloud that we had brought a camera.

“There is usually a photographer aboard these ships,” my husband told me. “I’m sure that we can find him and have him take a picture of us.”

We made our way to the ballroom and soon were waltzing together. We did find the photographer, and he took several shots of us, promising us copies the next morning.

As the night came to a close, however, I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“May I cut in?” Miriam Marshall asked, sneering at me. I shot my husband a pleading look.

“I’m sorry, Miriam,” my husband said, “but I promised my wife that I would not leave her side this evening.” He in fact had made no such promise, but I played along. As soon as he answered her question, he swept me away again, and I allowed him to lead me away from her.

The last song ended, and we applauded the orchestra before strolling back to our cabin. Before we reached our door, however, Les pulled me into a dark corner, sheltered from prying eyes.

I wrapped my arms around his neck as he tangled a hand in my hair, the other one resting on my buttocks. He pressed me against the wall and slipped one leg between mine before bending down and kissing me. I responded, breaking out of the kiss when I felt his erection press insistently against my abdomen.

“Our room is so close, Les – don’t let’s get a chill from making love outside.”

He ignored me, and continued to kiss me, making his way lower until he met my new necklace. He groaned in frustration before wrapping his arms tightly around me and whispering in my ear.

“Oh, you darling creature, do you feel what you do to me?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble echoing from his chest. I shivered, half from the chill and half from the frissons of pleasure spreading through my body. He released me from his embrace and once more wrapped an arm around me, slipping one hand to my lower back. We moved quickly to our room, and we barely made it inside before I was discarding my necklace and earrings on the vanity, his hands at my back unzipping my dress, my hands pushing his jacket and shirt off his shoulders. He pushed me against the bedroom door and I wrapped my legs around his waist, moaning as he entered me, penetrating deeper than he ever had before.

“Les!” was all I could cry out as my orgasm overtook all of my senses. I could feel only my husband moving inside of me and the waves of pleasure crashing through my body. All I could see were bright stars exploding; all I could hear was Les calling my name in return as he came.

He barely managed to carry me over to the bed before we collapsed against each other. I summoned up enough energy to pull the blankets over us, and I curled up against him, his arms holding me, as we slept.

[KristaMarie]

Love it... and I cannot stand Miss Marshall >

Lovely as always-- update soon!

[Junora]

Miriam that little .....!

Oh I love it, just wonderful.

Hugs Lottie

[littleminerva]

Yeah, what a wonderful story...I really like it.

Can't wait to read more of it.

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Eight: Stormy Weather

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A/N: Thank you Junora, KristaMarie, and littleminerva for your reviews! I'm sorry that this is a (relatively) short chapter, but I have to pack for my trip to Egypt next week! I hope to have the next chapter up later tonight.

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The next morning both Diana and I were in much better moods than we had been the night before. After we each took a quick shower – one at a time, because unfortunately the shower was barely large enough for one of us – we got dressed. Diana wore a charming outfit – a thick cream wool jumper, a knee-length navy skirt, and boat shoes; I wore a hunter green jumper with khaki trousers and boat shoes. It was cold at sea, as it was still March, though it would be much warmer in Queensland.

We decided to go to the V.I.P. dining room in order to avoid seeing Miriam or MacDee. Luckily, we had not come across him yet, and we hoped to keep it that way. For once, I was glad that I was considered a “V.I.P” – we got the very best treatment, and Diana and I would not have to worry about seeing Miriam or MacDee.

Diana and I were able to enjoy a lovely, leisurely breakfast of strawberries, French toast, bacon, bangers, and tea. We took our time eating, not a care in the world, and we were able to relax and enjoy ourselves. It was truly lovely.

After breakfast, Diana and I went down to the squash court and played a few games. Diana had played in secondary school, and I had learned when I first came to England. Diana was a far superior player – she thrashed me, 9-4, 9-3, and 9-1.

After I was utterly beaten at squash, Diana and I went back to our cabin to shower before lunch. Once again, I regretted the small facilities, but was pacified by Diana’s promise to test out the surprisingly large tub this evening.

We went up to the V.I.P. dining room again for luncheon, and were very glad that we had not run in to Miriam or MacDee. After we finished our meal, we decided that it was too cool to simply lounge about on deck, so we took a stroll around the top deck.

Before we could complete a circuit of the top deck, a moustachioed steward approached us and told me that the Purser had a message for me. I asked Diana if she wouldn’t mind waiting for me on the top deck, and she agreed. I then made my way down to the Purser’s office accompanied by the steward, but when I asked the Purser what the message was, he said that he did not have one for me. I looked around for the steward, but he was gone.

I realised that the supposed “message” from the Purser was nothing more than an elaborate device to get me away from Diana. I bolted out of the Purser’s office and made for the stairs to the sundeck, taking them three at a time. When I got there, Diana was nowhere to be found.

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On our stroll around the deck, a steward with a pencil moustache interrupted us, telling Les that the Purser had a message for him. Les suggested that I wait for him on the top deck, and I readily agreed. I settled myself in a lounge chair and another steward, this one with glasses, came round with a deck rug and a pillow. I closed my eyes and lay there in the sun, thinking about my future with Les. Suddenly a cloth was covering my mouth, and a sickly-sweet smell crept into my nostrils. I tried to struggle against the people holding the cloth over my mouth, but I was unsuccessful. The next thing I knew, I had fainted.

I woke up in a dark room sitting in a wooden chair, my hands tied to the chair behind my back, and my legs tied to the chair’s legs. There was a cloth gag around my mouth, preventing me from calling out for help. My mouth was dry, and there was an awful aftertaste in my mouth from whatever had put me to sleep.

I tried to struggle against the bonds, but was unable to loosen them. As I continued to try to free myself, the door opened to two stewards. The smaller one closed and locked the door as the larger one turned on a bright light. I winced from the sudden change from darkness. I realised that one of the stewards had told Les that the Purser had a message for him; the other one had given me a deck rug and pillow as I waited for my husband. As my eyes adjusted, I could see the room I was imprisoned in more clearly. It seemed to be a third-class cabin, as it had four bunks and was quite cramped. Both stewards reached up and took off their caps – long blond hair fell from one, and the other cap revealed cropped black hair. The larger one took off a pair of glasses and false sideburns, and the smaller one pulled off a false nose and moustache. I then realised that they were not stewards after all – it was Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee. Miss Marshall helped Mr. MacDee take a mattress off one of the bunks and they propped it against the door before they removed the gag from my mouth.

“What am I doing here?” I croaked as the gag was removed. My throat was quite dry from whatever they had used to knock me out. Miss Marshall slapped me.

“Don’t talk, Miss Mead, unless we ask you a question,” she said. My cheek stung from the slap she had bestowed upon me.

I nodded mutely, and she smirked in satisfaction. She and Mr. MacDee huddled in the corner farthest away from me and held a hurried whispered conversation before they turned back to me.

“Why are you travelling to Australia?” Mr. MacDee asked me, leering.

“To visit Les’s parents,” I replied, and was slapped again by Miss Marshall.

“Call him Mr. Mangrum,” she snarled. “You’re not good enough to address him by his first name.” I nodded again.

“Why are you travelling to Australia?” Mr. MacDee asked me again.

“To visit Mr. Mangrum’s parents,” I replied, and flinched. Luckily, no slap was forthcoming.

“And why are you visiting them?” Miss Marshall asked me.

“Mr. Mangrum wanted me to meet them,” I replied.

“And how long are you staying in Australia?” Mr. MacDee asked.

“I’m not sure. Les – Mr. Mangrum – hasn’t decided yet.” Miss Marshall slapped me again.

“How did you get the money?” Mr. MacDee asked me.

“What money?” I asked, confused. He once again leered at me.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Miss Mead. The money to prevent the sale of Mangrum Tractors to Amalgamated Motors!”

I swallowed before continuing. “Mr. Andros was at the hotel because his wife was travelling on Mr. Mangrum’s plane to New York. I saw him in the writing room, approached him, and asked him if he would lend Mangrum Tractors £153,750. I showed him the last balance sheet, and he said that he understood why Mr. Mangrum wanted to keep his company. He then took out his chequebook, signed a blank cheque, told me to fill in the amount, told me to mail him the receipt the next day, and said that he could wait three days for the repayment.”

“What happened after I left the hotel room?” Miss Marshall interjected.

“I called Mr. Fordman senior in New York and Mr. Mangrum talked to Dave Kingsford. I extended the options by twenty-four hours and raised the prices. I then gave the cheque to a messenger to deposit at the nearby branch of Lloyd’s Bank. Mr. Mangrum insisted that I share his hotel room as it was late by the time we finished working.”

“Then what?” she asked impatiently.

“Then we went to sleep,” I replied. She slapped me for the fourth time. My cheeks hurt very badly, and I could tell that they would be bruised very soon.

“Continue until I tell you to stop,” she spat.

“We woke up the next morning and went to the airport. Mr. Mangrum had bought me a ticket to New York with him. He proposed, and I accepted. We flew to New York and told the Board the news of our engagement. We married that night at the Fordman’s house. We then stayed at the Plaza Hotel for three nights and flew to Sacramento the night before this ship departed.”

“Where did you sleep the night you shared the hotel room in London?” she asked.

“In the bed.” I didn’t want to say that we shared a bed, but Miss Marshall’s raised hand prompted me to add, “In the same bed.” She lowered her hand.

Once again, she and Mr. MacDee retreated to the corner to hold a brief, whispered conversation, after which Mr. MacDee gagged me again. They both moved the mattress back onto the bed and re-applied their disguises before exiting the room. I could hear the lock turn from the outside.

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When I couldn’t find Diana on the top deck, I ran back down to the Purser’s office.

“My wife is gone,” I panted, breathing heavily after running down several flights of stairs.

“Are you sure?” he asked me.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I snapped. He nodded and picked up the telephone, speaking briefly into the receiver. He then took me into his private office and closed the door.

“When was the last time you saw her?” he asked me.

“Just before I came down to see you about a message. We were walking along the top deck and a steward told me that you had a message for me. She said that she’d wait on the deck for me and I followed the steward down here. When you said that you didn’t have a message for me, I felt as though something was wrong and I ran back up to the deck where I left her. She was gone.”

“What did the steward who told you that I had a message for you look like?” the Purser asked. I closed my eyes, trying to remember.

“He had a blond moustache – rather thin,” I said, trying to remember any other distinguishing factors. “He was about this tall,” I indicated a height about equal with my shoulder. The Purser frowned.

“I don’t believe that we have any stewards with facial hair,” he said, stroking his own beard absent-mindedly. He picked up the telephone again and spoke into it, his frown deepening at the other person’s response.

“That was the Chief Steward,” he told me. “We do not have any stewards with facial hair – it is against the rules – easier to distinguish members of the staff, that way.”

“Then that person was an impersonator?” I asked. The Purser nodded.

“I do believe that it is time to begin a ship-wide search for your wife,” the Purser said.

I nodded grimly. “I think that we should begin with the cabins of Mr. Henry MacDee and Miss Miriam Marshall,” I told him. He nodded.

[Junora]

You cruel girl, you can't let us hang here.

But as everytime wonderful, I hate Marshall and MacDee.

Hugs Lottie

[KristaMarie]

AHH! Update soon PLEASE!!!!!

[dianahawthorne]

Chapter Nine: Blowing Over
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A/N: Thank you to KristaMarie and Junora for the reviews! Again, this is a relatively short chapter, but it ends at a good place.
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The Purser had grabbed his map of the ship and its roster; the roster said that Miriam was assigned room 143, and MacDee was assigned room 145. As we made our way to their cabins, we saw the steward who deceived me exit Miriam’s room. When the steward saw me, he ran as fast as he could away from us. The Purser and I followed, but unfortunately lost him.

“We should have a steward on the lookout for each of them, and follow them discreetly if they see them,” I told the Purser. “We’ll never catch them otherwise.”

The Purser agreed, and we quickly returned to his office, where he telephoned the Chief Steward. A very short time later, a discreet knock sounded at the door, and two men entered.

The two new stewards were small, unassuming men who would blend in easily and not be noticed. The Purser gave each of them a brief description of the two impersonators, and also a description of my wife. They set a plan of action and began looking. I sent a telegram to Mr. Fordman senior.

MR FORDMAN STOP DIANA HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED STOP WE SUSPECT MIRIAM MARSHALL AND HENRY MACDEE STOP WE BELIEVE SHE WAS TAKEN BY TWO MEN IMPERSONATING STEWARDS WHO ARE COMPLICIT WITH MIRIAM MARSHALL AND HENRY MACDEE STOP WE ARE SEARCHING FOR HER NOW AND WILL KEEP YOU UPDATED STOP PLEASE DO NOT CONTACT DIANA’S FATHER STOP WE WILL DO SO IF WE DO NOT FIND HER BY NIGHTFALL STOP LES MANGRUM STOP

After sending the telegram, all the Purser and I could do was wait and pray.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Although I could not see my watch, I knew that several hours had passed since Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee had left me. I had managed to scoot the chair over against one of the bunks, which, I could see, had sharp corners. For the past several hours I had been rubbing the bonds around my wrists against the sharp corners of the bunks, and the rope had almost worn through. I finally managed to break the bonds, and quickly untied the gag around my mouth before untying the bonds around my legs.

I rubbed my legs quickly to regain circulation, before walking over to the door. I tried the door before I remembered that it was locked from the outside, so I quickly searched for a key they might have left in the cabin. I couldn’t find one. Looking around the room, I was unable to find anything that would help me in breaking the door down. Before I could think of my next plan, I heard footsteps coming down the hallway. I hid myself behind the door and waited for it to open. It did, and Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee stepped inside. As they looked around for me, I bolted out the door and slammed it shut behind me, before running as fast as I could away from there.

I didn’t notice the two men at the end of the corridor before I ran into them. One of them gripped my arms tightly, preventing me from running away, and the other ran to the room I had just exited and locked the door tightly from the outside.

“Get off me!” I exclaimed, trying to break free of the man’s hold.

“Calm yourself, Mrs. Mangrum!” the man holding me exclaimed. The use of my married name, rather than the tone of the man’s voice or the words he chose made me stop struggling. I looked at the men for the first time – they, too, were wearing stewards’ uniforms, though theirs were more authentic-looking.

“Who are you?” I demanded as the other man came over to us.

“We’re both stewards; the Purser and your husband sent us to follow the two impostors in hopes of locating you. Your husband has been very worried,” the man holding my arms said.

“Thank goodness,” I said faintly, my knees going weak. I hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch, and it must have been well past suppertime by now. Now that I knew I was all right, the adrenaline seeped from my body, and I collapsed.

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A knock sounded at the door seven hours after Diana had first disappeared. The Purser stood up to answer it, and one of the stewards entered with Diana in his arms. I rushed forward and took my wife from him.

“What happened? Where did you find her? Is she all right?” I asked, looking down at my wife. She seemed so pale, except for red marks on her face, as though someone had slapped her.

The Purser picked up the telephone and spoke into it briefly, before turning to me and telling me that I should bring Diana back to our cabin, as the ship’s doctor would be by presently to examine her, and he and the two stewards would be round in an hour. He then turned to the steward and conversed with him quickly, before picking up the telephone once more. I carefully carried Diana to our cabin and laid her out on the bed, pulling a chair up and sitting down, holding her hand.

A knock sounded at our cabin door, and I answered it, revealing the ship’s doctor. He walked over to her and produced a vial of smelling salts, which he waved under her nose. With a cough, she stirred into wakefulness, throwing herself at me as soon as she adjusted to the light.

“Les, darling, I love you!” she cried, alternatively showering kisses on my face and sobbing into my jumper. I rubber her back and held her close, thanking God for her safe return to my arms. The doctor cleared his throat, and we turned to face him.

“Were you… harmed in any way?” he asked her. She tilted her head to one side.

“Miss Marshall slapped me several times, they kept me tied to a chair, and they put me to sleep with some sickly-sweet smelling substance, but they didn’t… violate me, if that’s what you are asking,” she replied.

The doctor then began his examination, prescribing nothing more than a good dinner, rest, and time. As he exited the room, the Purser and the two stewards who found Diana entered.

“Could you tell us what happened, Mrs. Mangrum?” the Purser asked. She nodded, pouring herself a glass of water from the pitcher on the nightstand and draining it, before beginning her story.

“I was waiting for Les on the top deck and I laid down on one of the lounge chairs. A steward came round and gave me a deck rug and a pillow, and I daydreamed. Someone, however, came up to me and put a cloth with some sickly-sweet smelling substance on it over my mouth, and I blacked out. The next thing I knew, I was bound and gagged in a small cabin without any windows. The steward who gave me the deck rug and the steward who told Les that you had a message for him entered the room and removed their disguises, revealing themselves to be Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee. They questioned me about how I got the money to save Les’s company from being taken over by Amalgamated Motors, why Les married me, and why we were going to Australia. Miss Marshall slapped me several times. They then left the room and locked the door from the outside. I managed to shift the chair I was tied in against one of the bunks, and I used the sharp corners to fray the rope holding my hands together. I hid behind the door and when they came back, I ran out of the room and slammed the door closed on them, before these stewards found me.” The Purser nodded.

“We have arrested Miss Miriam Marshall and Mr. Henry MacDee on kidnapping charges and they are currently locked in the brig. When we arrive in Australia, we will turn them over to the custody of the Australian authorities, who have agreed to escort them back to England, where they will stand trial.”

“Why did they do this to my wife?” I asked the Purser.

“From what I can gather, Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee are, shall we say, in an understanding. They hoped that the deal to Amalgamated Motors would go through, which would mean that they would own the largest percentage of shares, thus effectively controlling your company. When your wife saved your company, she foiled their plans, and they planned to hold her hostage in return for you relinquishing control of your company to them.” I collapsed on the bed, my face in my hands.

“That son-of-a-bitch,” I said. “That he would do this to my wife! And for what? Money!” Diana began to rub my back soothingly.

“Les, it’s all right now; I’m fine, you’re fine; they did not get control of the company, and they will be going to gaol. Everything’s fine…,” she murmured. The Purser and the stewards discreetly took their leave, and Diana continued to soothe me. I eventually pulled myself together and took her in my arms, kissing her passionately, trying to assure myself that she was really there. She melted into my embrace, running her hands over my chest. When we broke for air, Diana suggested that we get changed for bed, and I agreed. We fell asleep almost immediately in each other’s arms, weary from the day’s events.

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Les and I had no more problems on the remainder of our trip. We telegrammed our parents to let them know what had happened, and were able to reassure them that I was fine. I recovered quickly from my kidnapping, thanks to Les’s care. The only real event of note that happened during the remainder of our trip was Les’s 31st birthday, on March 9th. As we docked in Australia on the 12th, we were well-rested and excited to see our families.

[Junora]

wonderful, I love it.

is there another chapter or was this the last one?
hope there is another.

Hugs Lottie

[KristaMarie]

Hmm... seems my post disappeared from last night... stupid storm and power....

But I loved it! I'm looking forward to the next chapter!

Oh and as a side note, since you seem to love Maggie as much as I do, recommed "Hot Millions" if you haven't seen it already. I know it's available on eBay as a "buy it now" item, so if you can, I highly recommend getting that!

[dianahawthorne]

Junora: This definitely isn't the last chapter - I'm going to continue this story as long as I can!

KristaMarie: I definitely love Maggie! Unfortunately, I haven't yet seen "Hot Millions", though I'm dying to. I just checked out the one on eBay, and unfortunately the buyer won't take PayPal or credit cards as payment I do think, though, that my parents taped "Hot Millions" for me when it was on TCM last month at 3am - I hope so! Regretfully, I won't be back home until the 24th of June, because I'm going to EGYPT!!! in a week.

Have you seen "Young Cassidy"? That is SUCH a fantastic Maggie movie.

[dianahawthorne]

Perfect Forecast for the Future


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A/N: The last chapter of THIS story, but be assured that I will be writing a sequel. I'm ending this story here because 1) This story was really about them getting together; 2) I'm going to Egypt and won't have access to a computer for about a month; and 3) This was the perfect place to end it.

I do own Diana's father, Les's parents, his brother, his brother's wife, his nephews, and the dogs. The dogs are named after the three border collies my father had growing up. And yes, Humphrey was named after Humphrey Bogart, who happens to be my distant cousin. And if you don't know who Humphrey Bogart is (only one person in my grade did), then SHAME! You are missing out on some of the best pieces of American cinema - not to mention one of the best actors EVER!

All right, enough ranting. I hope you all enjoy the last chapter, and know that there DEFINITELY WILL be a sequel!


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Although we had reassured our parents that Diana was fine, her father exchanged his ticket and flew out to Australia as soon as he heard the news. His excuse was that he wanted more time to get to know his new in-laws. That is how my mother, my father, Diana’s father, my brother George, his wife, and their children came to be waiting for the HMS Killeen to port in Brisbane.

The air had gotten progressively warmer the closer we got to Australia, and it was quite warm, even at sea, the day we docked in Brisbane. Diana wore a very becoming light-green sundress; I wore a short-sleeved oxford shirt with a light pair of trousers. We waited on deck as we drew nearer to the port; even from quite a distance, I was able to point out my family to her.

My father was a tall blond man, broad-shouldered, a typical rancher. My mother was the complete opposite – a petite, dainty woman with dark brown hair and someone who seemed more at home in a manor house than in Brisbane, Australia. My brother and I both had my father’s build, though my brother had my mother’s more delicate features and her hair colour. His wife Elsie was a tall, slender blonde who seemed like a farm girl. Their two four-year-old sons, Roger and David, were stocky, and you could tell just by looking at them that they would always be happier doing manual work. And they had brought the dogs – our three border collies, Springer, Humphrey, and Abigail.

Diana’s father was as tall as my own, though he looked more refined, with salt-and-pepper hair and a matching moustache. He was broad-shouldered as well, prompting me to ask Diana what her mother had looked like.

“I inherited her red hair and build,” she told me, “though I got my features from my maternal grandmother.”

As we got within shouting distance of the shore, we could hear my father, brother, and nephews yelling welcomes. As soon as the plank was lowered, we waded through the sea of people to our families.

“Hello, Daddy!” Diana said as she flung her arms around her father. He returned the hug, before looking up at me and releasing his embrace.

Mr. Mead was several centimetres taller than me, and I tried not to feel intimidated as he looked me over before he took me completely by surprise and engulfed me in an enormous bear hug.

“I’ve spent the last week talking with your parents, and they’ve assured me that you will be good to my daughter. Welcome to the family.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” Diana exclaimed, giving him a peck on the cheek before turning to me and giving me a much longer, and passionate, kiss on the mouth. Our fathers, my brother, and my nephews began catcalling, and we broke out of the kiss, blushing.

“Did I raise you to be a heathen, Lester Mangrum?” my mother scolded me, moving to the front of the crowd. “Introduce your wife!” I cleared my throat, blushing once more, before taking Diana’s hand in mine.

“Mother, Father, George, Elsie, Roger, David,” I said, “This is my wife, Diana.” She blushed as she smiled at my family.

“I’m so pleased to meet you, Diana,” my mother told my wife, enfolding her in a tight hug. “I was beginning to despair of Les never finding the right woman; but here you are!” Diana blushed.

“Thank you, Mrs. Mangrum,” she said.

“Oh, don’t be silly! Call me Rose,” my mother told her. Diana exchanged a quick glance with her father before replying, “Thank you, Mum.”

My father stepped up next. “Splendid to meet you, Diana. I’m glad Les found someone as good as my own wife,” he told her. “And none of this ‘Mr. Mangrum’ business either – call me Lester.” She smiled as she returned his hug.

We went through the same process with George and Elsie, and Roger and David were surprisingly well behaved for once. The porter brought our luggage over and my parents showed the porter to the truck where he loaded the luggage in the back. Our parents got in the cab of the truck, and I helped Diana into the back. We re-arranged some of our luggage so we could sit more comfortably, and Springer, Abigail, and Humphrey leapt up into the back as my father began the drive back to the house.


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When we arrived in Australia we were swarmed by Les’s family, their dogs, and my father. Everyone wanted to be sure that I was all right after being kidnapped by Miss Marshall and Mr. MacDee. I was, though I was a bit overwhelmed with our reception.

Les’s parents, his brother, his sister-in-law, and his nephews are all kind, welcoming people, and I am glad that they have accepted my father and me into their family. Daddy looks the happiest I have seen him since my mother died when I was fourteen.

On the drive back to Les’s family’s house, we sat in the truck bed so that I could see Australia for the first time. It is a magnificent country, and I told Les that I didn’t know how he could leave it.

“I felt called to England, my love,” he said, his arms around me. “If I had stayed in Australia all my life, I never would have met you,” he finished, nuzzling my neck. I pulled his arms tighter around me.

When we arrived at Mangrum Ranch, my jaw positively hung open. The one-storey house was enormous, stretching out under the shade of several large trees. There was a big shaded verandah as well, covered by a green-and-white striped awning. A fenced-in paddock held several horses and cattle grazed on the lush green grass.

“You two have the guesthouse,” Les’s father called back to us as he began unloading our luggage.

“I thought that we were going to be in my old room?” Les asked his father.

“Well, Gregory insisted that you two take the guest house – that way you can have your privacy,” Les’s mother told us.

“Thank you, Mr. Mead,” my husband told my father.

“It’s not a problem at all. And call me Gregory, son,” my father replied. He gave my husband a clap on the back and picked up some of our luggage, carrying it towards the house.

As we reached the entrance to the guesthouse, Les’s father pulled him aside for a moment and whispered something in his ear. Les grinned and set the bags down before walking over to me and easily lifting me in his arms.

“What are you doing, Les?” I exclaimed, surprised at his sudden actions. He kissed me passionately, to many catcalls from our fathers, his brother, nephews, and the men working at the ranch, before saying out loud, “Carrying my bride over the threshold, of course!” I laughed and kissed him as he stepped into the guesthouse.

Diana and I joined the rest of the family for a cookout after we finished unpacking. Our neighbours came over and joined in the belated wedding celebration, laughing and toasting us, wishing us a happy marriage. The festivities lasted hours, the last of our neighbours leaving as the sun came up the next morning. Finally, we retired to our rooms.

She was utterly exhausted after meeting so many new people and adjusting to the unfamiliar environment, though she was her usual charming self despite her fatigue. As the last guests left, however, she had fallen asleep by the fire. I carried her back to our rooms and stripped her down to her slip. I shed my clothes as well, save for my boxers, and I carried her to our bed. As I pulled the covers over us, she snuggled into me. I chuckled softly and wrapped my arms around her before drifting off to sleep.

We did not wake up until almost noon that day, nor did the rest of the family wake up earlier. When I woke up, I looked down at my sleeping bride. I loved watching Diana sleep – she looked so beautiful and at peace. Shaking myself out of my trance, I went into the guesthouse kitchen and whipped up an omelette and a pot of fresh tea, finishing just as Diana called out to me.

“Les, darling!” I heard her call as I laid our breakfast out on a tray.

“Just a moment, Diana!” I called back, walking into the bedroom. “Good morning, love!” I set the breakfast tray on the nightstand so I could bend down and give her a kiss. She responded hungrily, wrapping her arms around my neck and urging me to join her back in bed. I pulled back, countering her crestfallen expression with the appearance breakfast tray.

“Well, I suppose we do need sustenance,” she sighed dramatically as my stomach growled. We had quite a delicious breakfast in bed, and when we finished I got up to wash the dishes.

When Les exited with the empty breakfast tray, I went around the room and made sure that all of the curtains were securely closed before searching for the kitchen. I found it, and quietly walked up behind Les as he finished drying the dishes, seating myself at the small kitchen table to wait for him to finish.

“Hello, Diana, my love,” he said as he dried the final dish, not even turning around.

“How did you know I was here?” I pouted good-naturedly.

“I’m not sure…,” he said. “I could just… sense you, I suppose.” He tried his hands on the dishcloth as I walked over to him, stepping into his embrace. I tilted my head up for a kiss, feeling his erection grow against my abdomen our kisses grew more passionate. I snaked a hand down between us, slipping my hand into his boxers, caressing his length as he gasped against my lips.

“God, Diana,” he groaned as I squeezed him gently, feeling him twitch in my hand. He kissed me hard again, backing me up against the wall, using his hands to feel his way along the hallway and then the bedroom even as he still embraced me. Though we made it to the bedroom, we didn’t make it to the bed, and we came to our knees on the hand-hooked rug at the foot of the bed. He yanked my knickers off as I pulled down his boxers, closing my eyes as his moans shot directly to my core. He pulled down the straps of my slip, baring my breasts, which he began to caress with one hand as he massaged my crux with the other.

I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him closer as he pleasured me. “Please, Les,” I begged him. “Please…”

He entered me just as I began to come, and he pumped hard and fast even as my orgasm washed over my body.

“Les!” I cried out as I came again. He pushed into me a few more times before his hands gripped me tightly as he succumbed to his own orgasm, calling out my name.

We managed to gather up enough energy to climb into our bed, though I shed my slip before we crawled between the covers. I lay in my husband’s arms and traced patterns on his chest while he ran his fingers through my hair.

“When we have children, Les,” I said suddenly, “I’d like for us to raise them here.” He kissed the top of my head.

“I’m glad you feel at home here, darling,” he replied, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I tilted my head back to look at him.

“I love you, Les,” I said. He kissed my lips.

“And I love you, Diana.”

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The remainder of our honeymoon passed too quickly – I had spent much of the final week at a hotel in Brisbane, on some emergency work for Mangrum Tractors. Diana also had not been feeling well, and I felt awful that I could not be there for her. However, everything worked out, and the entire family gathered for dinner on the last night of our honeymoon, as there were several announcements to be made.

“I’ve finally decided to retire,” Diana’s father told us. Diana was shocked, but I noticed that my parents were smiling at each other. Diana’s father continued. “I’m tired of being stuck in an office all day, especially an office in dreary England. Thanks to Rose and Lester’s help, I’ve found a small house close by in Brisbane, and I’m settling here permanently in a month, after I put all my affairs in order.”

“That’s wonderful, Daddy!” my wife exclaimed, leaping up to give her father a hug. He patted her back, chuckling.

“Well, you have been after me to retire for so many years now, my dear,” he told her, still laughing. “And now I won’t be lonely without my work.” Diana gave him a peck on the cheek, smiling secretly to herself, and sat back down next to me.

It was my turn. “As you know, I’ve had to do some emergency work for the company during the last week.” Everyone nodded, and I squeezed Diana’s hand tightly. “Well, I have some news. Mangrum Tractors has merged with John Deere, and they are keeping all of our employees, as Mangrum Tractors is the new international branch of John Deere. We’ve expanded our market by millions, and our company has just increased our value by twenty million pounds.” I smiled and squeezed Diana’s hand once again as I accepted congratulations from my family. “Thank you – it will be announced in the papers tomorrow, but I wanted you all to know ahead of time. And this also has an impact on where we will live as well – the Board wants me to stay in Brisbane, so Diana and I have purchased the old Cook ranch down the road.”

My mother embraced me, sobbing that her son was finally coming home. My father clapped me on the back, and Diana’s father engulfed her in another hug. My brother and his wife also joined in, and Roger and David jumped up and down in excitement as the dogs barked.

When everyone had finally calmed down, my mother looked pointedly at Diana and asked, “Don’t you have an announcement to make, dear?” She blushed, and I looked at her curiously before looking around at the rest of the table. Everyone was grinning.

“Do you all know something that I don’t know?” I asked. They nodded, smirking to themselves. I looked back at my wife.

“Do you have something to tell me, Diana?” I asked her. She nodded, still blushing, and leaned over to me, resting her chin on my shoulder.

“We’re going to have a baby,” she whispered in my ear. My jaw dropped, and I turned to look at her.

“Really?” I asked her quietly. She nodded. I stood up so quickly that I knocked my chair over before taking Diana in my arms and swinging her around, just as I did two months ago, when I first realised I was in love with her, and once again I yelled out, “You little beauty! You bloody humdinger!” She laughed at me just like she had before, but this time she pulled me into a kiss.


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That night we lay in a large hammock strung between two beams on the verandah of the guesthouse, watching the stars. Diana was curled up next to me, and we were wrapped cosily in a wool blanket. I slipped my hand under the blanket and laid it gently on the bare skin of her stomach. She rested her smaller hand on top of mine.

“I love you, Les,” she said, rubbing the back of my hand.

“I love you, too, Diana,” I replied. “And I love you, baby,” I told our unborn child. My wife kissed me lightly on the lips, before re-settling herself against my chest. Her breathing soon grew slow and even, and finally I joined her in slumber.

We slept that night under the starry Australian sky, dreaming of our future.

THE END
TO BE CONTINUED IN THE NEXT STORY

[KristaMarie]

Yay-- so sweet! I loved it and I am looking forward to the sequel. Have a fantastic time in Egypt!

And no I have not seen Young Cassidy but I am absolutely dying to!!

[Junora]

OMG sooooo wonderful, I LOVE it.
you are a bloody genius, I can't wait for the sequel.

Hugs Lottie