Fanchon's Book(15)

I was sorry, of course, and had told her so, but that scarcely atoned for my blunder. So I knew I would be playing her game again-but gently this time, skillfully if possible, and with the fixed purpose of expressing my contrition; how else could I regain the little darling's confidence? True, I might have dropped the entire matter right then and there. Or at least remained patient until time healed the wound. That would have been the judicious course, perhaps, but all my emotional instincts demanded otherwise. The girl had added a new dimension to my life; I looked forward to each day with a feeling of zest now, a hedonistic fervor, an intensity that had been sadly lacking in recent years. Tutto dl novello par bello. I couldn't sit around and twiddle my thumbs and let the sparkling champagne grow flat.

Nor did I. But it soon became evident that I a tough nut to crack. Kristi was my employee. and. never once did she let down in her household duties-indeed she was more obliging than ever in such details-but getting her to relay and discuss the paramount Issue was something else again. Until, m a fit of urgency, I all but ordered her to do so.

She didn't talk much. Worse yet, she listened with a stoic smile on her face and I realized I wasn't making much headway. But I had no choice; I had told her to sit and hear me out-although I certainly hadn't anticipated such an impervious defense. It got to be pretty exasperating, and it was almost m anger that I finally spoke the words that drew a response from her.

"Kristi, what do I have to do, beg you?"

"Ma'm?" Her lashes fluttered, overly coy; there seemed to be mischief brewing inside her. "I guess you really liked the acting game, huh?"

"I've already said so."

"You liked it when I was the princess?"

"Yes dear. It was fun."

"And you want to play again?"

"I'd love to. Any part that suits-"

"Please, ma'm, don't mix me up. I'm not talking about any other parts. Just the game you made up. The princess and the love-slave. Would you like to play that one again?"

I nodded, tense; somewhat bewildered by the repetitious interrogation, but aware nonetheless that she was leading up to something. Something not quite kosher. The tilt of her lips had turned the stoic smile into a challenging smirk; was she teasing me? Trying to get me aroused only to shrug me aside again? I wouldn't put it past her. Not now. This was the devil half I was seeing, not the angel.

"Remember what you said, ma'm? About begging me? Well, if I'm going to be your princess, don't you think you ought to?"

"Hmm?"

"Come on, beg me a little."

What a coquette! Did she really expect me to beg? But of course she did; wasn't it all in the game? Oh, how clever! shifting into our play-acting scene so deftly, such a smooth transition-and how crass of me to have suspected her of trickery: the child was a nugget of purest gold. But at least I had sense enough to pick up her cue and get into the spirit of the thing. I dropped into my school-taught curtsy again, paused for a long moment and then-in a deliberately theatrical manner-sank all the way down upon my knees. "See how humble I am, princess? I'm begg-"

"No, don't call me that. I'm not your princess yet. I'm still just Kristi. If you want to play the game, you'll have to beg me first."

"Kristi… " It was more than I could grasp. But I was already kneeling before her and I simply couldn't get up arid quit, it would have been too embarrassing for both of us. "I'm begging you," I said and was amazed at the throaty, choked depth of my voice. "On my knees I'm begging you. Please?"