When she left the chamber, she was unsure which way to go, because Goodwood was so vast. Then she spied Anne at the end of the hallway.
“This way, Sarah. I want a private word with Mother before dinner.”
“Are you sure you want me to join you?”
“Of course I do. I have no secrets from you.”
They found the duchess in her sitting room. Charles was in the library with his father, and she was enjoying a quiet moment away from her demanding husband.
“Anne, Sarah, how lovely you both look. Come and join me.”
“I have some exciting news, Mother. William van Keppel, the Earl of Albemarle, is courting me. I think he’s on the verge of proposing marriage.”
“That would be a wonderful match, Anne. Did you know that William was born at Whitehall Palace and his godmother was the late Queen Anne? He’s now Lord of the Bedchamber to the king, I believe.”
“Yes, we were introduced at Court by Aunt Adelaide. He inherited his father’s wealth. William owns Ashford Manor in Kent and also property in Lancashire. If he asks me to become the Countess of Albemarle, I intend to accept. I expect Father will be negotiating a marriage contract soon.”
“Ah, that might pose a problem.” The duchess looked worried.
“What do you mean?”
“Your father is much debilitated. You’ll see for yourself at dinner.” She bit her lip. “It’s the effects of drink, of course. A lifetime of over-indulgence has left him befuddled and argumentative. He has a man of business to look after his affairs because he’s incapable of conducting them himself. The poor fellow is browbeaten on a daily basis.” She lowered her eyes. “His Grace of Richmond has become an embarrassment.”
I feel a great deal of sympathy for her, but none at all for that swine Richmond. I remember his arrogance at The Hague. He wielded authority over everyone, and none dared to disobey his orders.
Sarah glanced at Anne and saw that she had gone pale, as if all her fine plans had been ruined. Then she heard a loud, querulous voice and knew she was about to come face-to-face with her detested father-in-law.
The Duke of Richmond, leaning heavily on a walking stick, swept heavy-lidded eyes over his son’s wife. “Well, well, Cadogan’s gel turned into quite a fancy piece. Your objections have been silenced, I take it?”
“Lady Sarah is a wife to be cherished. And far more than I deserve.” Charles held out his arm to his father. “Shall we go in to dinner?”
Richmond shoved his son’s arm away. “I don’t need help. I’m not an invalid!”
Charles masked his impatience and spoke pleasantly. “Of course not.” He held out his arm to his long-suffering mother and led her into the magnificent dining room. Anne and Sarah followed. Once his mother was seated, he held his wife’s chair.
Richmond’s loud voice dominated the conversation. His once handsome face now lay in ruins. He showed little interest in the food, but drank continually between inappropriate comments and attempts at humor. His laughter brought on fits of coughing. He began arguments with his wife and then his daughter, which Charles skillfully deflected. By the end of the first course, the duke was in his cups and almost incoherent.
By the end of the meal, he had fallen asleep and had to be roused by his manservant who half-carried him to his bedchamber, which of necessity was located on the main floor.
Charles escorted the ladies to the drawing room. “Is he poured into bed every night?” When his mother nodded, he asked, “Is he receiving medical attention?”
“Yes. The doctors say there is nothing more they can do for him. Since he only has a few months left, they deem it cruel to deprive him of his comforts.”
“Do these doctors spare a thought for you? You look worn out, Mother.”
“I shall manage. I’ve no idea the state of his affairs. Would you have a word with his long-suffering secretary,
Charles?”
“Of course. You may safely put your concerns aside. I see how matters stand and will take care of it.”
“You have taken a weight off my shoulders. I’ll go up to bed, if you’ll excuse me?”
Anne jumped up. “I’ll take you upstairs, Mother.”
When they left, Charles looked at Sarah. “I am so sorry you were exposed to such a display. I wish you could have experienced Goodwood under different circumstances. Let me show you the picture gallery.”
Sarah smiled. “I’d love to see it.” She was relieved their spat was forgotten.
The Long Gallery was a sight to behold. Charles took her hand and smiled down at her. “Thank you for wearing the ruby earrings. It was extremely thoughtful of you to want to please me.”
He led her slowly down the ornate chamber, explaining who was in each portrait. Every duke and duchess, every earl and countess who had served at the Courts of the Stuart kings lined the walls. There were paintings by Van Dyke, Holbein, and Hilliard.
Each time they came to a beautiful lady in a stylish gown, Sarah paused to appreciate the painting. “Oh, this is your grandmother, the Duchess of Portsmouth. She is a black-eyed beautiful enchantress.”
“Yes, one glance and Charles was in love. I didn’t think such a thing was possible until I saw you sitting in the Royal Box at the theater.”
Sarah smiled a secret smile and moved on to the next paintings that included family groups with children and dogs. “These portraits are a history lesson come to life.”
“My great-grandfather, King Charles I, was the greatest art connoisseur who ever sat on the English throne. I would like to have your portrait painted, Sarah. I want your delicate beauty captured and displayed for future generations.”
His compliment took her breath away, and in spite of her resolve she was charmed.
“Your portrait should hang here, Charles. You are the future Duke of Richmond.”
“There’s one of me.” Charles pointed to the far wall.
“But that was obviously done years ago. It doesn’t resemble in any way the man you have become. Now you are tall, and broad shouldered, and bronzed by the sun, and—” She stopped. And so physically attractive you make my pulse race each time I look at you. When you draw close the breath stops in my throat, and sometimes when you touch me I want to scream with excitement.
Charles drew her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Flattery, begod!”
She quickly changed the subject. “These horse paintings are wonderful.”
“They are rather superb. The artist is John Wootton. In the morning, we’ll go to the stables. The Richmond horses are legendary; their bloodlines famous. Goodwood has its own racetrack. For years it drew the nobility and the cream of Society like a lodestone. It’s hard to believe now, but my father’s hospitality was once unsurpassed.”
“I’d love to see the horses.”
“Good. We can saddle up, and perhaps we can ride hell for leather.”
His words evoked her memories of their romp in the grass.
“Let me take you upstairs.”
Sarah’s cheeks were warm, her skirts rustling with invitation, as he led her from the gallery. By the time they arrived at his bedchamber, his den of iniquity as he’d referred to it, her heart was fluttering.
Charles dropped a kiss on top of her curls. “I need to consult with Digby. The estate’s business affairs have been neglected, and I shudder at the mess my father’s personal affairs must be in. I’m sorry to leave you on our first night at Goodwood, Sarah, but I must put duty before pleasure.”
Alone, her pulses slowed and she had the honesty to admit that she was disappointed.
Sarah asked herself why, but the answer wasn’t so easy. She grudgingly admitted that her physical attraction to Charles was growing but flatly denied any tender feelings for him.
She glanced about the luxuriously furnished chamber, and a large tapestry caught her eye. She walked across the room to view it up close and realized it was a priceless Gobelein. It depicted a king and his courtiers enjoying a picnic in a
garden. The flowers were so vividly real that Sarah imagined she could smell their scent.
The chamber was decorated in black and gold. She ran her hand over a pair of lacquered cabinets and was curious about what they held. The cabinet doors opened to reveal sliding shelves. When she pulled them out, each shelf held drawings and pencil sketches, as well as written notes on sheets of parchment. Sarah sat down on the floor and looked at each one.
There was a theme that ran through the drawings. They depicted children, all poor, some begging. Many were sketches of King Charles at various ages, but all showed him surrounded by urchins and handing out coins. The artwork was exceptionally fine, and she wondered who the artist could be.
She read the notes on the parchments and found them to be anecdotes of the king who could never resist the plight of ragged, hungry children. There were notes about which were the poorest sections of London, and they listed the names of the streets that were derelict. The contents of the cabinets were touching; the drawings tugged at the heartstrings. Sarah felt as if she had intruded on something private. She carefully put everything back the way she had found it.
She undressed, put on a pink nightrail, hung her gown in the dressing room wardrobe, then returned to the bedchamber. Before she climbed into bed, she removed her ruby earrings and put them on the nightstand.
Sarah lay thinking about the contents inside the lacquered cabinets. Charles hadn’t occupied this bedchamber for at least three years, and she had difficulty connecting the brutish youth he had been back then to the sensitive collection she had discovered. Yet in her heart of hearts she believed the drawings had been done by Charles. She drifted into a light sleep and hours later was awakened by the sound of a door closing.
“You stayed awake for me. You are far more sweet and thoughtful than I deserve. It’s past midnight.”
She had turned the lamp down low. She watched him undress, and when he removed his shirt, she saw how the glow turned his skin to shimmering golden bronze. If you but knew it, you are far more handsome than the kings from whom you are descended.
Charles slipped into bed naked and pulled down the sheet so he could gaze at her clad in the pink silk. “You look like strawberries and cream.” He licked his lips. “I want to devour you. Where on earth shall I begin?”
Sarah curled her toes.
“So be it,” he said, moving down in the bed. He lifted her foot to his lips, dropped a kiss on each toe, then took them one at a time into his mouth and sucked. When he traced the arch of her foot with his fingers, it tickled and she began to laugh and squirm. His palm stroked up over her calf, and when his lips trailed kisses along the inside of her bare thigh, she suddenly stopped laughing and drew in a swift breath.
He blew on the pale tendrils that covered her mons and then he lowered his mouth and dipped his tongue inside her. Her shock that he would do such a thing soon gave way to intoxicating sensations that made her arch into his wicked mouth.
“Mmm, perhaps not strawberry but cherry,” he teased. “Whatever the flavor, it is exactly to my taste.” He thrust in his tongue again, curled it about her bud, withdrew it all the way out, then plunged all the way inside her sugared sheath.
“Charles!” She arched and writhed, threaded her fingers into his black hair to hold his head captive between her thighs, then cried out her pleasure at the new, enthralling vibrations of desire that spiraled up inside her and made her shiver with need.
Charles was enthralled with her reaction to his love-making. He had resolved to go about her sexual initiation slowly so she would receive only pleasure in their first encounters. Sarah was extremely young and innocent, and he vowed to control the wild passion she aroused in him until her desire stirred her natural female sensuality.
He raised his head and gazed at her. “You are beautiful in your arousal, sweetheart.” He moved up beside her and gathered her into his embrace.
Her fingers traced his dark brow and sharp cheekbone. Then she offered up her lips for his mouth’s possession. She shivered as she tasted herself on his tongue. Sarah admitted to herself that she was physically attracted to this powerful, dark male who had suddenly come into her life. The contrast between this man and the callow youth she had been forced to wed was striking. Don’t be beguiled by his handsome face and amorous attention, for he will doubtless follow in his father’s dissolute footsteps, her inner voice warned. But I see no reason why I shouldn’t enjoy my awakening sensuality while I lure him to lose his heart.
He feathered kisses into her hair, enthralled by her taste and her scent. Then tenderly, he turned her in his arms so that he could tuck her head beneath his chin. He knew he had lost his heart to his wife, and it filled him with happiness.
* * *
Sarah awoke early, sensing that she was alone in the bed. Charles emerged from the dressing room in riding breeches, and she remembered he was taking her to the stables this morning.
A tap on the door was a servant with a breakfast tray for two. “I ordered this last night, so we could ride early.”
She laughed as she looked at the great amount of food. “I’ll never eat all that!”
“I hope not,” he teased. “Most of it’s for me. Go and put on a riding dress, and I promise not to devour everything.”
Sarah donned her emerald green habit and twisted her hair into a chignon. She pulled on her leather riding gloves and then began to remove them when she emerged from the dressing room and saw the food.
“No, don’t take them off. I’ll feed you.” He picked up a crisp rasher of bacon and held it to her lips. Then he fed her toast followed by a sausage. He poured her a mug of fresh-brewed ale and lifted it toward her mouth.
“I never drank ale for breakfast before.”
“There’s a first time for everything, Sarah. It’s bracing and will give you courage to ride like the wind.” He tipped the mug, inducing her to open her mouth.
“You devil! You give me no choice.”
Charles slanted a dark eyebrow. “As Countess of March, you will have to learn how to imbibe and keep up with Ye Royal Family.”
In a show of bravado, she drained the mug and licked her lips.
“Well done! Come, the day is awasting.”
The Goodwood stables were vast. Sarah had never seen so many horses under one roof in her life, not even in the royal stables. The minute the pair entered, half a dozen youths crowded around Charles, all laughing and talking at once.
He guessed each young groom’s name. He got them all correct and they cheered.
“They were just little nippers the last time I saw them,” he told her.
She hid her surprise that they welcomed him so warmly.
“This is my beautiful wife, Sarah. I know you will serve her well.” He chose a pair of horses for them, but the stable hands insisted on saddling them. Charles acquiesced and took her hand. “Let’s take a look at the Richmond horseflesh.”
They slowly walked down row after row of stalls that held glossy Thoroughbreds. There were mares, stallions, and geldings, along with fillies, colts, and newborn foals. Charles spoke to the head groom. “I’m glad to see that the stables are well run, and the breeding has been prolific. Good job, Logan. I’m taking over the management of Goodwood, so if you have any concerns you can address them to me from now on.”
“Thank you, Lord March. It’s good you are back in England.”
Charles led the pair of saddled horses from the stable. “It’s a good thing your skirt has a long slit up the side. It will allow you to ride astride.” When he lifted Sarah into the saddle, he rolled his eyes with pleasure at her exposed legs clad in long boots.
He mounted his own horse, took her reins, and led her from the stable yard. “I’m taking you to the South Downs. You’ve never experienced anything like it.”
They cantered side by side until they reached the Downs, which were on Goodwood land. Charles grinned at her. “Ready? Set …Go!”
They set off on a wild gallop across th
e rolling Downs. The turf was thick and green beneath their horses’ hooves; the billowing clouds in the blue sky above them shifted constantly. And the lapwings soared high as their bird cries carried on the light breeze.
They rode neck and neck in a race that was immensely invigorating. At the end of their five-mile gallop, Charles allowed her to win the contest. “You beat me!”
Sarah turned and rode back to him. “Not fair and square … why did you let me win?”
“For the sheer pleasure of it, my beauty. I wanted to watch your honey-blond hair stream behind you like a banner, and watch your lovely round bottom bounce.” He reached over, lifted her from her saddle, and deposited her between his muscled thighs. His lips brushed her ear. “I’d like you to ride me like that.”
The pictures his words conjured in her mind were wickedly shocking, but at the same time they were provocative, and her imagination took flight so she could see their naked bodies joined together with her astride him in the dominant position.
When his hands came up to cup her breasts, she took delight in rubbing her bum against his hard erection. I’m cockteasing and enjoying his every groan!
Charles slid his hand inside the slit of her riding skirt, and his fingers played among her curls until she was wet. “I’m pussy teasing,” he murmured. When she gasped with pleasure, he chuckled. “I think I’ll keep you in a constant state of arousal from now on. Your newfound sexuality thrills me to my core.”
After their ride, when he lifted her from the saddle, he let her body slide down his until her feet touched the ground. When they mounted the steps that led into the manor, he caressed her bottom. Upstairs when Sarah changed from her riding dress, he helped her, managing to touch and stroke every intimate part of her body.
For the remainder of their stay at Goodwood, Charles never entered a room without drawing close, caressing her cheek, and brushing the back of his hand across her breast.
His fingers toyed with her curls; his lips kissed her ear and murmured love words.
Sarah smiled a secret smile. Charles is besotted with me. He’s on the brink of falling in love. When he tumbles, I’ll spring the trap.
Lords of Passion Page 7