The Earl Most Likely

by Goodger, Jane

  “I have thought of that. And I am aware that it is in the realm of possibility that a man will want to marry me someday. I shall have to cross that bridge when I come to it, I suppose.” She pressed her lips together, then said forcefully, “I will not regret this.”

  He gave her a half smile. “Oh, my dear, I fear you will.” He stood and she stiffened, as if she thought he would pounce on her then and there. “To the right of the barn, there is an empty cottage that is used by the under gardener. Costille House does not have an under gardener.”

  “This is where we will…meet?”

  “It is.”

  “When?”

  He took out his pocket watch. “After luncheon. Two o’clock. Will that suffice?”

  Another furrow formed between her eyes. “Yes, it will.”

  “Why are you frowning?”

  “It suddenly feels like some sort of transaction.”

  He walked over to her, took up her hands and pulled her up from her seat. Kissing her gently, he said, “I am as inexperienced as you when it comes to such a thing. I can honestly say I have never agreed to meet an innocent young woman in an under gardener’s cottage at two o’clock in the afternoon.” He brushed the pad of his thumb against her bottom lip, then bent down for another kiss. “I want to please you, Catalina, and I very much am looking forward to being with you.”

  Giving him a tremulous smile, she nodded, then tucked her head beneath his chin, a movement that caused a strange feeling in his chest, an indefinable ache.

  “Until two, then,” she said, sounding brave as she lifted her chin and bussed his lips with her own.

  * * * *

  A hundred times between that morning meeting and two o’clock, Harriet had to fight the urge to run from the estate and return home. Truly, she had gone mad.

  Yet, the thought of experiencing what she was about to was enough to keep her there. She tried to focus on the renovations, and succeeded for much of the time. It wasn’t until Mr. Billings, with a gentle smile on his face, noted her lack of attention that she realized just how distracted she had become.

  “I do apologize, Mr. Billings. My thoughts have been elsewhere all morning.”

  “A beau?” he said with a teasing note.

  Harriet let out a nervous laugh, for he had struck far too close to the truth. “I haven’t a beau,” she said, more for herself than for him. Already, her heart was far too engaged in this matter. She knew, if Lord Berkley did not, that she was treading in dangerous waters. To think she had boldly stated he might fall in love with her when she was already half in love with him. Stupid, silly girl. She said a silent prayer to a God who was likely looking down at her with clear disappointment that she wouldn’t regret this decision. Would she be a scorned woman now? Was this a sin that could sentence her to hell? No, it was not a mortal sin.

  No one would know but the two of them. And God. Harriet would ask forgiveness later.

  At quarter ’til two, Harriet told the workmen good-bye and headed to the cottage, her stomach a jumble of nerves. She was heady with the knowledge that before the day was out, she would have been with Lord Berkley, held him against her and…done something miraculous. She hoped.

  Lord Berkley, Augustus, had been correct. She knew the basics of what making love entailed; one could not live in the country and not be aware of how animals procreated. But that was all she knew. Alice, other than to blush prettily whenever Mr. Southwell entered a room, had remained frustratingly mum on the whole marriage bed experience. It was simply a topic she had never discussed with anyone.

  The day was cold and overcast, and Harriet pulled her scarf closer around her neck, looking about the estate to see if she could spy Augustus heading in the same direction. The cottage was a few hundred yards from the barn, a tiny one-room building with a door and a single window. A bit of smoke streamed from the stone chimney, and Harriet smiled. It appeared Augustus was there already, making it cozy and welcoming.

  Taking a deep breath, Harriet went up the small stone step and knocked softly on the door, as if some observer might hear had she knocked louder. A quick look behind her showed that the cottage was well away from the estate and no one was about who might see her. When the door opened, she stepped back, laughing—laughter that quickly stopped when she saw Augustus standing on the other side of the door.

  Wearing only a shirt and trousers, his hair ruffled, he no longer looked the part of an earl. Rather, he looked like an ordinary, extraordinarily handsome young man. She looked down and realized he was barefoot. For some reason, seeing him thus made what was about to happen even more frightening. This, she thought, was Gus, and Gus was someone who could steal her heart.

  “Hello.”

  He smiled and raised one eyebrow as if to say, “Is this truly what you want?” What he actually said was, “You’ve changed your mind.”

  Harriet gathered her courage, walked into the cottage, and looked around. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, and the room smelled a bit smoky; likely no one had cleaned the chimney in some time. The honey-colored wooden floor beneath her feet was well worn, and partially covered with a rag rug, the sort she remembered from her childhood before her mother replaced them with expensive ones.

  “I have not changed my mind yet,” she said, and let out a tremulous laugh. “I keep thinking I’ve gone a bit mad and that this will either be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made or the best decision.” She turned to look at him. “Which will it be, do you think?”

  “I would never wish to hurt you,” he said solemnly. “But I also have been imagining what it would be like to take you as a lover for quite some time now.” He gave her a self-effacing grin. “I am a man, after all.”

  “Yes, a man. You don’t look like an earl at the moment,” she said, saying aloud what she’d thought when she first entered the cottage. “It’s a bit disconcerting.”

  “When I was in America, I was an ordinary man. No one knew I was an earl and if they did, they did not care. It meant nothing to the men I lived and worked with. When we are within these walls, I wish to be Gus, not the Earl of Berkley.”

  Letting out another burst of nervous laughter, she said, “I only have known you as an earl, so I am finding it difficult to call you Gus, never mind think of you that way.”

  He walked over to her and Harriet tensed. Instead of embracing her, however, he walked around her and began undoing her hair.

  “If this is all I do today, it will have been worth it,” he said.

  He began removing the pins that held her hair in a simple chignon. Piece by piece it fell down her back and over her shoulders, until she could feel the blessed relief of having all the pins removed. Setting his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her against him and buried his face in her curls. “It is glorious,” he whispered, and Harriet closed her eyes at the wonder of how he was making her feel. He was doing nothing out of the ordinary, simply resting his large, warm hands gently on her shoulders, but the heat that was coursing through her made her decision far easier. This was what she wanted, to feel cherished, to feel pleasure, when all her life she had been told over and over again that she should feel nothing.

  His lips grazed the sensitive skin on her neck and Harriet let out a small gasp. How could such a simple kiss create such complex sensations? Turning in his arms, she looked up at him and smiled, a surge of joy rushing through her. “I want you to be my lover,” she said softly.

  Augustus let out a shaky breath. “Your wish, Princess Catalina, is my command.”

  Harriet giggled, a sound unfamiliar to her ears. She was not the sort of woman who giggled. Still gazing at him, Harriet lifted her hands to the buttons of her simple dress, and started undoing them. His eyes dropped to watch her progress, his face taut, his lids lowered so that she could see the thick length of his lashes, something she’d never noticed before. It made him seem even more
beautiful.

  Beneath the dress was only a chemise and pantaloons. Harriet was thin and only required a corset when she wore one of her more formal dresses to achieve the desired shape. When she went on her walks or worked at Costille House, she always opted for comfort—and now it was terribly convenient, she thought, and let out another giggle.

  “What is so amusing?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

  Harriet shook her head, suddenly embarrassed by her thoughts. “I confess I am nervous.”

  “Ah,” he said, then dipped his head and kissed her softly.

  * * * *

  Augustus meant only to soothe her, a kiss to calm her nerves. But the moment he pressed his mouth against hers, he was lost, a sensation completely foreign to him. Kissing a woman had never nearly driven him to his knees, but for some reason kissing this woman did. Something about her soft, full lips, the small contented noises she made whenever he touched her, the way she melted so willingly against him. It was damned unmanning, that’s what it was, to be so completely in the control of a slip of a woman.

  He was past insisting to himself that he was not attracted to her. God above only knew how much he desired her, how difficult it was to go slowly with her when he throbbed with need. His mind was gone, centered only on her small gasps, soft mewling sounds that she probably was unaware she was making. He, though, was aware that each time he swept his tongue against hers, each time he skimmed his hand down her side or against her breast, a delighted hum would come out of her. His cock pressed against his trousers, and knowing he would soon, finally, be buried inside her, it was all he could do not to throw her over his shoulder and toss her onto the soft feather mattress that dominated this small place.

  He’d spent the morning preparing the cottage, cleaning it, making up the bed with his softest linens. Living in America without servants had forced him to learn how to live self-sufficiently, and those simple skills had come in quite handy when he’d been fixing up the old place.

  Bringing up one hand to cup a breast and the other to cup her tight bum, he closed his eyes and listened for the sounds he knew would come from her. He was not disappointed, but he was surprised by how just those soft sounds could drive him nearly mad with desire. She hadn’t even touched him yet, for her hands were caught between, and he could hardly maintain his control.

  One thumb, moving back and force across her peak, produced the desired effect, as a hard bud formed. Dipping his head, he captured her nipple beneath her chemise, and gently bit, then chuckled with satisfaction when she let out a low moan of pleasure.

  His need to see her unclothed grew tenfold, and he moved back so that he could continue what she’d started. But when he did, he made the mistake of looking at her desire-filled eyes, drowsy with passion, and he had to bring her against him again and kiss her. He was acting like a man who had never been with a woman, whose very touch was very nearly like sustenance. Never in his life had he felt the need to kiss and touch; his experiences with other women were very nearly perfunctory. Expert touches that created the desired effect, yes, but nothing even remotely as consuming as what he was feeling with this innocent girl.

  “You have bewitched me,” he muttered, pushing down the odd panic he felt in his breast.

  “Good.” He could feel her smile against his lips. Sweeping his hands down her back and to her pretty bum, he pulled her against his arousal, closing his eyes and letting out a primal sound that he was certain had never before come from his lips.

  “I need to have you, my Catalina,” he said, pressing light kisses against her slim neck, feeling her curls tickle his cheek.

  “Yes,” she said, dropping her head back, as if she no longer had the strength to keep it upright.

  Stepping back, he pushed her dress down past her slim hips, then pulled on the ribbon that held the top garment closed, and at the same time, her shaking fingers pulled on the ribbon that held her pantaloons in place. In a matter of seconds, she stood before him completely nude, her perfect breasts, round and firm, exposed to him.

  “You are so lovely,” he said, his eyes sweeping down her frame. She was thin, yes, but not too much so. Her waist dipped in only slightly, her hips were rounded, giving her a woman’s curves. Had he thought he liked women with more of everything? She was perfect in his eyes, skin pale and smooth, cream with a hint of rose. He noticed then that her hands were fisted by her sides, and he picked them up and kissed the knuckles until she relaxed. “Come,” he said, and led her to the bed.

  She hesitated, and his heart nearly stopped. If she wanted to stop, he would, but he might drop dead on the spot from the effort. Then she climbed in and he couldn’t help but give her bum a light pat. She let out a small, delighted scream, and scurried to get beneath the covers.

  “Have you ever seen a man?” he asked, smiling down at her. He could only see the tip of her nose and her lovely eyes gazing at him with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

  “No. At least not in the flesh.”

  “Ah, you’ve seen statuary, then?”

  She nodded and blushed. “I imagine we’re all much the same, though…” He stopped, realizing the man parts on a stature were never erect, as he was now, painfully so. “Though because I am aroused, that part down there will look a bit different. Larger, I suppose.”

  “It feels rather large,” she said shyly.

  He hesitated a moment, suddenly feeling a bit shy himself, which was ridiculous. Quite a few women had seen him naked and all had expressed pleasure at his body—at least the ones who had seen him in daylight. Which come to think of it, were fewer than he would have thought.

  With a muttered curse over his wayward thoughts, he pushed his braces from his shoulders, then pulled his shirt over his head. Her eyes widened and he hoped that was a good sign. Augustus wasn’t the hairiest of men, but he did have a good bit of dark hair on his chest. With a few deft movements, he unbuttoned his trousers and stepped out of them, revealing himself in all his glory to his soon-to-be lover.

  “Oh,” she said, darting a quick look at his cock before pulling the blanket entirely over her head. This struck Augustus as exceedingly funny, and he let out a burst of laughter.

  “Do not laugh at me,” she said, her voice muffled by the blanket.

  Placing one knee upon the bed and still chuckling, he pulled the blanket slowly down to reveal her smiling face. God, she was lovely. “You are the most adorable woman,” he said, before kissing her deeply. It wasn’t long before she was sighing and letting out those lovely little noises that drove him mad.

  Drawing down the blanket, he got in bed beside her and drew her fully against him, relishing the gasp of pleasure she let out upon feeling for the first time flesh against flesh. In his mind, there was little in the world that was better than the sensation of a soft naked woman against one’s body.

  “I’m going to touch you places where no one has ever touched you before. Like here,” he said, slowly circling one nipple with his index finger. “And every place I touch you, I will likely kiss you.” He dipped his head and drew her hard nipple into his mouth, suckling her.

  “Oh, God,” she screamed, and her hips rose.

  Teasing one nipple with his mouth, he pleasured the other with his fingers, gently twisting, back and forth, until she was gasping. Her hands, which had been by her sides, came up to grasp his head against her. He moved from one breast to the other, amazed at how easy it was to arouse her. Though she was likely unaware of what she was doing, her hips began moving ever so slightly and Augustus took a deep breath, forcing himself to go slow with her. Indeed, he had never produced such a reaction in a woman before and he was damned pleased with himself.

  * * * *

  Harriet thought she must be in the grasp of some sort of spell or fever. She could not have known what it felt like when a man touched her the way Augustus was touching her. It was as if she had lo
st control of her body, as if some other being had taken over where simple, plain Harriet had lived. Never could she have imagined that a man would suck on her nipple and that such an action would produce inconceivable sensations that speared from her breasts directly to between her legs.

  She could feel herself growing moist, hot, needy, and she never, ever wanted him to stop. His man part, hot and hard against her leg, felt foreign but strangely right, as if her body understood what was happening to her even if her mind did not.

  When he moved his hand lower, to that growing ache between her legs, Harriet cried out and he stilled. “I’m going to touch you,” he said, his voice unusually gruff. “And I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Oh.” It was all she could utter; it was all her mind could conjure. Then he touched her, lightly, between her legs, and he let out a low moan as if the caress that made her want to scream out in pleasure had somehow pleasured him too.

  “Catalina,” he said, and buried his head beside her, pressing his forehead against the pillow. “You are impossibly ready for me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do all I had planned to do. This time.”

  She could feel his fingers exploring her, and then, a touch, a caress, had her lifting her hips off of the bed. She could do nothing to stop it, the sensation was that astonishing.

  “There you are,” he said, letting out a small laugh. He began moving his finger in that particular place, back and forth, creating a growing tension inside her that was completely unfamiliar. It was like that small pleasure she’d felt when he kissed her, growing a hundred times more intense, more wonderful. More everything.

  “I can’t…” she said, not even knowing what she couldn’t do. Something wonderful was building, something she couldn’t control, but it felt so good. Then he dipped one finger inside her, and kept his thumb on that one single spot, and created a carnal rhythm that Harriet could not resist. She began moving her hips, trying to reach something, something. And then, her entire body was enveloped in the most delicious sensation she had ever experienced in her entire life. She wasn’t even aware she was screaming out in pleasure until Augustus kissed her deeply, silencing her.