Subj: Quentin & Jenny -- 4
Date: 1/6/99 6:02:01 PM Central Standard Time
From: DSRules

Quentin and Jenny had been so affectionate throughout dinner that night, that Laura thought she was about to become nauseated. However, after dinner, she saw her opportunity, and seized it with both hands. . . .

At the base of the stairs, Quentin cozied up to Jenny, kissing her on the cheek. "What do you say to a walk in the moonlight? I haven't had a chance to show you the grounds of the estate yet, and it's very romantic at night. When there's a full moon, it's almost bright enough to read out there."

Jenny giggled and blushed like a schoolgirl, "All right, but I want to go upstairs and change first, I don't think that this," she indicated the gown in which she had 'dressed' for dinner, "would be appropriate to wear outside."

"I'll meet you outside and," he cuddled in closer to her, "don't bother wearing a corset," he leered.

"I think that can be arranged," she leered back as she spun around and headed up the stairs.

Quentin turned to walk to the front door, barely giving Laura enough time to duck into the drawing room so that he couldn't see her spying on them.

Once Quentin had stepped outside, Laura turned and hurried up the stairs after his wife.

Laura tiptoed down the hallway to the room where Quentin & Jenny were staying. Glancing quickly around to make sure that no one was coming, she crouched down on the floor and peeked through the keyhole, where she could see Jenny just slipping off the sapphire-blue gown she had worn to dinner.

Laura called upon her occult talents and was gratified to see Jenny slump to the floor in her corset and bloomers nearly immediately. {Fifteen minutes should do it,} the Phoenix thought smugly.

Meanwhile, Quentin waited for Jenny outside.

And waited for her.

And waited.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, he began to get angry at how long it was taking her. {She said she'd be right downstairs.} He walked back into the house and up the steps, taking them two at a time.

He strode down the hallway to their bedroom and threw open their bedroom door, banging it against the wall in the process. Jenny was just finishing up buttoning her dress.

"Quentin! What are you doing here? I thought I was supposed to meet you outside."

"I waited nearly half an hour for you, Jenny! What's taking you so long?"

"Half an hour . . .? I came right upstairs and started changing right away. As you can see, I'm only just now putting my dress on. I was just about to come downstairs and meet you."

"You've been in here -- the whole time?"

She nodded. "Yes."

He saw the honesty in her dark eyes and, relaxing, went over to her and hugged her. "I'm sorry, Jenny. I did warn you that coming home would make me edgy," he pulled his head back and smiled at her.

"So are we going out now?"

"The outdoors will still be there tomorrow. I had something a little more . . . private in mind." He leaned in towards her, kissing her passionately, and she returned the kiss with equal fervor as his hands went to the buttons that ran up the back of her dress.

Laura, crouched in the hallway watching through the keyhole, swore silently. {Oh, well, tomorrow's another day, and my next plan *will* work.}

Over the next few days, Laura bided her time, watching Quentin and Jenny and thinking about what to try next.

Jenny spent quite a lot of time nursing Daphne. In addition to her natural talent for working with sick and other 'difficult' people, she had her mother's understanding of herbs. Antonie had spent many years teaching her daughters the uses of various plants. Magda had always wondered what this information could do for her, but Jenny's priority had ever been what the knowledge could do for others, and she used it in Daphne's case to excellent results.

During Daphne's lucid moments, Jenny found the elderly woman to be a delightful companion. She was very well-traveled, and Budapest had always been one of her favorite cities. For her part, Jenny had always loved it when their travels through the Hungarian countryside took them through that beautiful old city, and the two women spent many hours discussing it. Daphne had also spent some time in Chicago, and she was fascinated to hear about all of the changes that had taken place in the 25 years since the Great Fire.

However, when Daphne was vague, she frightened Jenny more than a little. She often talked of a man named Quentin and of how she loved him, but that their love was inappropriate, and even though Judith explained to her that Daphne was remembering her courtship with her late husband, during which time he was still married to his first wife, Samantha, Jenny couldn't shake the feeling that it was *her* Quentin that Daphne was talking about.

When Jenny asked Quentin why he never went to visit his grandmother, he answered tersely, "I haven't spoken to her in nearly ten years, and I'm not going to start now." Jenny often wondered what had happened between them to make him so bitter, but she could never bring herself to ask.

One day, after a particularly long night with Daphne, Jenny said to Laura, "I just hate going back to our room after being up with Grandmother Collins all night. I always wake Quentin up, and he can't get back to sleep, and he's so grouchy the next morning."

Her sister-in-law saw another opening here, and took it. "Why don't you ask for your own room?"

"My own room? Why?"

"Well, that way, when you've been up with Grandmother Collins, you don't have to disturb Quentin."

"That makes sense, but I don't think that Quentin will let me have my own room. If I asked him about it, I'm sure that he'd just forbid me to keep helping her."

Laura, who was fully aware of the tortuous nature of Quentin and Daphne's relationship,* fully agreed with Jenny on this point. She also knew that continuing Jenny's work with Daphne would make insinuating herself between Quentin and Jenny much easier, so she said, "As you know, Edward has offered to let the two of you stay on as long as you'd like. But Quentin has had a hard time explaining to you that he'd much rather you have your own room."

"What?"

"Oh, dear," she prevaricated, "I *had* hoped to avoid having to say this. Let me speak more clearly, Jenny. Quentin is embarrassed that you and he are still sleeping in the same bedroom. You wouldn't know this, having the kind of . . . background that you have, but it's expected for the wife to have her own room. After all, I have my own room."

"Edward didn't ask you to get your own room?" Jenny asked.

"Of course not," Laura lied glibly. "I knew that I was expected to have my own room, and so I requested my own room."

"Oh. . ." Jenny thought about this for a moment. "Why didn't Quentin tell me about this? I would have understood."

"Well, you know how Quentin is. He didn't want to hurt your feelings."

Jenny thought about this, and it seemed in line with the thoughtful way Quentin had always treated her. "So, I'll just go and tell Quentin that I understand and that it's fine with me if I get my own room -- as long as that's what he wants."

"Oh, no! You can't tell him that!"

"Why not?"

"Because then he'll know that you and I have been talking about him, and he wouldn't like that."

"Oh."

"It's much better that you make it seem like it's your own idea."

*To be spelled out in a later story.