The Dark Earl

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by Virginia Henley


  When the newlyweds stepped onto the elegant, columned portico, the front door swung open. Thomas set down the luggage, and picked up his bride. Harry slid her arms about his neck, thoroughly delighted that her husband was carrying her over Shugborough’s threshold. He set her down before the staff that had been hastily assembled by Mrs. Stearn.

  Thomas said solemnly, “It gives me great pleasure to present my wife, the Countess of Lichfield. I know you will serve her as faithfully as you have served me.”

  The housekeeper-cook bobbed a curtsy. “Welcome to your new home, Lady Lichfield.”

  “I’m sure she would prefer that you call her Lady Harry,” Thomas said.

  “Then Lady Harry it is.” Mrs. Stearn began her introductions with the two males. “This is Mr. Ramsey, Shugborough’s steward, and John Vickerstaff, our footman.”

  Harry held out her hand to the steward. “How do you do, Mr. Ramsey?” Then she shook Vickerstaff’s hand. “I am promoting you to butler, John.”

  Vickerstaff glanced swiftly at the new earl. When he saw no dark look of disapproval, he straightened his shoulders. “Thank you, my lady. It will be my pleasure to serve you.”

  Mrs. Stearn moved on to the female servants. “This is Dorothy Nicklin, my kitchen maid, and Sally Willis, the scullery maid. Molly-Ann Hooper is the laundry maid, and this is Mary Trudgett, the stillroom maid.” The housekeeper-cook looked apologetic. “I’m sorry we don’t have a lady’s maid for you, but it’s been donkey years since Shugborough has had a mistress.”

  Harry greeted them all by name, and then smiled at the stillroom maid. “I think Mary would make a lovely lady’s maid.” She took her husband’s hand and winked suggestively. “I won’t need you tonight, but tomorrow you can help me unpack.”

  Mrs. Stearn threw the master an accusing glance. “If you’d let me know you were coming, I’d have prepared a grand dinner for you.”

  “Whatever you have cooked will be delicious, as always, Mrs. Stearn.”

  There was a loud meow, and the gray Persian cat came running into the entrance hall. It rubbed itself against Thomas’s ankles.

  “Here’s Kouli-Kahn to welcome you. How lovely.” Harry bent down and picked up Thomas’s feline. “Who’s a beauty? That’s right, Kouli is a beauty.” She was rewarded with a loud purr.

  John Vickerstaff was dispatched for the rest of the luggage, and once again Thomas lifted Harry’s trunk to his shoulder and headed for the stairs.

  “May I choose our bedchamber?” Harry asked breathlessly.

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “My room, the master bedchamber, is the only one that’s furnished, sweetheart.”

  Harry was aghast. “Thomas, I’m so sorry. I’m extremely thoughtless at times.”

  He led the way to his chamber, set down her trunk, and watched her face.

  “Oh, it is a splendid room, and furnished so elegantly.”

  He could tell she was surprised. “It took a great deal of time and effort to restore this master chamber to its original grandeur.”

  She twirled about the spacious room. “It was worth it.” The tall windows that faced east had gold brocade drapes with black tassels. A huge four-poster bed was hung with matching curtains, and the black velvet cover was embroidered with golden lilies and dragonflies. The thick-piled Oriental carpet boasted a pattern of brilliant blues, gold, and jade green. On the wall that faced the bed, there was a fireplace with jade green tiles. The andirons were fashioned into brass monkeys, and the pokers and coal tongs had matching monkey handles. A double wardrobe covered one wall with polished silver mirrors mounted on the doors. The final wall was lined with black and gold lacquered cabinets. A games table held a chess set whose chessmen were carved animals.

  “Oh, the kings are stags, and the pawns are dear little hares. I love it!”

  Thomas joined her before the games table. He raised her chin with his fingers.

  “Stags rampant,” he emphasized.

  “You have a wicked humor.”

  “I warrant you can match me in that department.”

  “You mean I give as good as I get.”

  He waggled his eyebrows. “That remains to be seen.”

  Harry blushed at his innuendo. “Let’s go and eat—then we can come back up to this glorious chamber and shut out the world.”

  Mrs. Stearn had set the table with the few Spode china pieces that Shugborough possessed. She served the earl and countess with a humble dish of lamb shanks cooked with barley, along with a dish of salad greens from the kitchen garden.

  Thomas couldn’t stop watching Harry eat because she enjoyed her food with relish. “You do everything with passion, and I find that not only admirable but stimulating.”

  Harry licked her lips. “I love this sort of food. While we are here, let’s spend some time in the kitchens, and you can give me some cooking lessons.”

  “Instructing you, in all things, will give me great pleasure,” he promised.

  She felt Kouli rub against her ankles and selected a morsel of lamb for her.

  “You shouldn’t feed her at the table.”

  Harry laughed. “I shouldn’t, but I shall!”

  Their dessert was pears poached in wine, served with a dish of clotted cream. Harry accompanied her last mouthful with a drawn-out “Mmmm!” Then she dipped her finger in the cream and let the Persian cat lick it off.

  Thomas opened his mouth to protest, and in a flash, she dipped in a finger and held out the cream for him to lick. Without hesitation, he took her finger into his mouth and sucked off the cream. “You revel in audacity. You want me to think it is the same finger you offered Kouli, but I know better. The thing is, I don’t really care.”

  “Hell and Furies, you’re catching on to my tricks. I’ll have to invent some new ones.”

  Mrs. Stearn apologized when she brought in a jug of ale.

  “Home-brewed ale is perfect, Mrs. Stearn. Thomas is taking me to the brewhouse tomorrow to show me how it’s made.”

  His lips twitched. “Lady Lichfield, you have taken to making declarations.”

  Harry smiled into his eyes. “Yes, I know. I caught the habit from you.”

  “How in the name of hellfire will two such strong-willed people survive?”

  “Love conquers all! I warrant we’ll rub along together very well.”

  “Come to think of it, you did vow to obey me,” he teased.

  “Dream on, Lord Bloody Lichfield.” Harry jumped up from the table and began to run. Thomas was after her in a flash and caught her before she left the dining room. He lifted her into his arms and captured her mouth in a sensual kiss.

  “Ooh,” she said languidly, “do give me some orders, darling.”

  “I’m taking you to the moonlit walled garden. Do not resist.”

  “I am incapable of resisting either you or the garden.”

  The huge harvest moon bathed them in light as he carried her through the gate in the wall. He set her feet to the grass, then took her hand so they could stroll through the garden that was so special to Harry. The night-scented stocks and heliotrope perfumed the warm air, and the sounds of the splashing fountain lured them from beneath the shadowed trees. The call of a nightingale echoed hauntingly, and they stood still so they could listen to the cricket chirps and the rustle of small animals.

  “Cratures,” she murmured softly. Absolute perfection.

  He drew her to the bench and pulled her into his lap. They whispered love words between kisses, and Harry sighed blissfully. “I hope we are always as happy as we are tonight.” She caressed his cheek and found it rough. Desire flared in her. “Don’t shave.”

  He captured her hand and dropped a kiss into her palm. “Let’s go up.”

  She kissed his ear and whispered, “Yes . . . let’s.”

  . . .

  Halfway up the staircase, he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the master bedchamber. He kicked the door closed with his foot and set her down on
the edge of the wide, curtained bed. Then he knelt before her and removed her shoes. “Since you nominated me to be your lady’s maid tonight, I intend to enjoy the role.” His hands went beneath her skirt, and his palms stroked up her legs. His fingers slid past her garters to caress the soft, bare flesh where her stockings ended. When he felt her shiver with pleasure, he slowly drew off her garters and stockings. “Prettiest things I’ve ever seen.”

  “The blue garters belonged to Mother.”

  “I don’t mean the garters—I mean your delicate feet and ankles.” He lifted one to his lips, kissed it, then trailed the tip of his tongue across her high instep. When he set her foot to the thick-piled carpet, he watched her toes curl.

  Harry lifted her other foot. “Now this one.” She smiled into his eyes when he repeated the pretty gesture.

  He pulled her up from the bed and turned her around. He unfastened the long line of buttons on the back of her dress, lifted her dark curls, and kissed the nape of her neck.

  “I love the feel of your lips on my skin.”

  “That’s good. I intend to kiss every delicious inch of you.”

  She stepped from her gown and stood before him. “You have to undo the strings,” she said breathlessly.

  “You wore the corset just for me.”

  “I did. Tonight, I will allow you to pull my strings.”

  “But not every night?”

  “That depends on how much pleasure it brings.”

  “To you, or to me?” he teased.

  As he took the strings into his hands, she stood on tiptoe, raised her chin, and looked into his eyes. “I hope I give you as much pleasure as you give me, Thomas.” I’m mad in love with you, my dark centaur. As her corset fell away, he cupped her full breasts, and Harry reached out to unfasten his shirt.

  When they were both naked, she said, “Help me to fold this exquisite velvet cover. I imagine the bedsheets will be in a terrible tangle before we are done.”

  The golden lily and dragonfly cover was safely set aside. “Any more orders, m’lady?”

  “Perhaps a game of chess?” she teased.

  “I do have a game in mind, but I assure you it isn’t chess.” He scooped her up and rolled onto the bed with her. His kisses began at her dainty feet, and his lips made their slow ascent from ankles, to calves, to knees, and on up the delicate flesh on the insides of her thighs. Though he had vowed to kiss every inch of her skin, he was suddenly diverted from his intent when his lips arrived at her high mound of Venus. He blew warm breath on the tiny black spiral curls, and heard Harry’s swift intake of breath.

  His thumbs brushed aside her curls and the tip of his tongue explored her sensitive woman’s center. When he plunged his tongue inside her sugared cleft, she cried out with both surprise and pleasure. “Thomas, you make me feel wicked as sin.”

  His mouth made her writhe with delight and she threaded her fingers into his coal black curls, loving the crisp texture of his hair and the roughness of his tongue. The hot, sliding friction built up inside her and spilled over in delicious quivers as her pulsations began. When he withdrew his tongue, she lay sprawled before him in silken splendor.

  He moved over her and she gazed up at him. “You make me feel beautiful.”

  He kissed her over and over. Tiny kisses, quick kisses, slow melting kisses, and urgent kisses that aroused her desire to madness. “Now, Thomas. Love me now!”

  Harry wrapped her legs about his back and gasped when he thrust his marble-hard erection inside her scalding sheath. She closed sleekly around him, and as he began to move, she opened her mouth, loving the satin slide of his tongue as it matched the throbbing rhythm of his demanding cock. She felt as if she would go up in smoke as her burning desire turned to flame. His man-scented skin provoked a sensuality she didn’t know she possessed. Suddenly the night exploded into a million tremors as he impaled her with a driving thrust that sent them both over the edge into shuddering ecstasy.

  He lay still so that he could enjoy every exquisite pulsation of her lush body. Then he whispered words of adoration that made her heart melt. With my body I thee worship.

  The words floated through her mind as she clung to him, and her mouth curved in a contented smile as she drifted off to sleep, secure in the knowledge that her husband truly loved and adored her.

  Chapter Twenty

  “This home brew is rather potent. You should stop at one tankard,” Thomas warned.

  “I love the aroma inside this brewhouse.” Harry handed her empty tankard to her husband. “Fill it up. If I become legless, you’ll have to carry me.”

  “Try to behave yourself, Harry. I suspect you are already tipsy.”

  “I am! But it isn’t the ale that intoxicates me, Thomas—it’s you. You make my senses reel.”

  He picked her up, swung her around, and kissed her soundly before he set her back on her feet. Then he refilled her tankard from a huge barrel of ale.

  She drank half of it and pretended to stagger. When his arms reached out to steady her, she roared with laughter and gave him a push. “I’m teasing you.”

  He rolled his eyes. “You most certainly are, madam.” He ran his fingers over the swell of her breast. “I’d take you to see the water mill if I wasn’t afraid you’d fall in.”

  “You are very good at diving into water to save damsels in distress.”

  “That was the day I convinced D’Arcy Lambton that Trixy was mad about him.”

  Harry suddenly became still. “Why did you do that?”

  “Because I couldn’t let him marry you, of course.”

  “Is that true, Thomas?”

  “Absolutely.”

  She was flattered, but also surprised that he had done such a thing. “I would like you to always tell me the absolute truth. I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. I won’t make you promise, though. I want you to know that I trust you. Implicitly.”

  He took her tankard away and drank the rest of her ale.

  “You dark-eyed devil, I trusted you!”

  “I want to introduce you to our Shugborough tenant farmers. I don’t want them to think my bride can’t hold her ale.”

  “Perhaps they will be delighted that the serious and sober Thomas Anson has chosen a mate who is impulsive and imprudent.”

  “Come on. Fresh air will banish your giddiness.” He took her hand and led her from the brewhouse. “Here comes a wagon. I wonder what it brings.”

  When the wagon drew up in the courtyard, Harry could see a ducal crest. “It belongs to the Duke of Devonshire!” She drew closer. “I think it holds statues.”

  “I had no idea who purchased our statues at Shugborough’s infamous auction. But recently I learned that William Cavendish bought them a short time ago for Chatsworth. I managed to reacquire them.”

  “Oh, Thomas, how clever of you. Was his asking price very high?”

  “Higher than I was willing to pay.” His eyes flashed silver. “After a fierce negotiation, we came to a gentleman’s agreement.”

  Thomas greeted the two men on the wagon. “If you will follow me, I’ll show you where I want the statues unloaded.”

  He and Harry made their way across the lawns to where the statues had originally stood, and she watched avidly as the men lifted the statues from the wagon, removed the protective sacking in which they were wrapped, and set them up where Thomas directed. “Oh, it’s Venus and Adonis! How lovely and white the marble is.” She watched as two more male statues were unloaded. “I don’t know the name of these gods.”

  “They are Castor and Pollux. Twin sons of Leda and Zeus.”

  “Oh, I know the myth. Zeus disguised himself as a swan and seduced Leda.”

  “You’re educated as well as beautiful, a rare and dangerous combination,” he teased.

  “There are two small statues in the bottom of the cart, Lord Lichfield.”

  Thomas climbed on the wagon to inspect them. “Yes, this one is Flora. She belongs in the greenhouse. The other godd
ess is Thalia, the Muse of comedy.”

  “Flora is the goddess of flowers and springtime. Why don’t we put her in the walled garden?” Harry suggested.

  Thomas smiled at her. “If that would please you.” He gave the men directions, but told them to leave it outside the small gate. Harry realized that he didn’t want the workmen in their private garden, and upon reflection neither did she.

  When the men returned, he had them carry Thalia into the house and directed them to the library. He thanked them, tipping them generously, and he and Harry followed them back outside. As the cart disappeared down the long drive, Thomas took her hand. “Let’s find a spot for Flora.”

  When they arrived at the gate of the walled garden, Thomas directed Harry to open it. He then proceeded to lift the heavy marble statue and carry it inside.

  “Your strength always amazes me. Let’s put it where I saw the little green snake.”

  He set the statue in the flower bed, and stood back to admire it. “Flora is a fertility goddess. She represents springtime, fruit-bearing flowers, and sex.”

  “I prefer to think of her as a love goddess.”

  “Little puritan,” he teased.

  Her eyes glittered with mischief. “Untrue! When I look at you, my thoughts are decidedly impure.”

  “You may regret sharing that secret with me.” He removed his jacket, laid it on the grass, and pulled her down into his arms.

  They rolled on the ground, kissing and laughing. Harry’s hands caressed his arms and shoulders; she thrilled at his powerful physique. “Your muscles are huge.”

  “Feel this muscle,” he invited, taking her hand to his cock.

  “Now who is being impulsive and imprudent?”

  “It must be catching. I feel an urgency to make love in our garden, since this could be the last warm day of autumn.”

  “You want me nude as the goddess?”

  “I’ll let you keep on your stockings and garters,” he whispered.

  “You have persuaded me. Your negotiating skills are formidable indeed.”

  “And then some.” He lifted her skirts and removed her drawers.

  That night, as she watched him undress for bed, she recalled the first time she had seen the statues in Shugborough’s grounds. “I was familiar with Venus, but it was the statue beside her that drew my eyes. The name carved on the pedestal was Adonis, and as I gazed at him, I wondered if all males looked like that when they were naked.”

 

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