Charles was at a loss. Normally he would have interjected some light conversation to ease the tension, but he found himself tongue-tied. Was Sarah’s nervousness his fault? Should he leave? If he left he would be setting a precedent. He would be shutting himself out of their morning routine, and that was not the way to get what he wanted. Gideon caught his eye, and though his expression was fierce his eyes were pleading.
Then Sarah set her fork down on the table with a thump. “I am not sure what is required of me.”
Gideon’s gaze snapped to Sarah and Charles’ followed. She stared down at her lap. “Today.” She blew out a breath and her eyes darted up to flash a look between them. There was an edge of panic in it. “And tomorrow. What I mean is, do you wish me to take over the house and accounts or leave things as they are? I have been trained to run a household, as you know, but you have been satisfied with the current arrangement and I do not wish to interfere.”
“Sar—” Gideon began, but her eyes grew wide and she glanced at Anders again. “Mrs. North,” Gideon said slowly, and Sarah breathed a relieved sigh. “I wish you to do whatever it is that you wish to do. As my wife you have every right to run the household as you see fit. Any action you take will in no way be seen as interference.”
Sarah nearly slumped in her seat as the tension in her shoulders disappeared. “Thank you, Mr. North,” she said with sincere gratitude, reaching out and lightly touching the back of Gideon’s hand. “I am not sure what I would do with myself if you had answered differently.” Gideon’s hand curled into a fist beneath her touch, his two damaged fingers refusing to hide themselves.
She licked her lips nervously, and though it was completely inappropriate to the situation, Charles felt his cock swell. Damn, she was pretty.
“I was wondering, is there anything that you wish changed? Or anything that you prefer remains exactly the same? Here in the house or around the farm?” Sarah’s questions were a bit tentative, but it was clear she was determined to establish the boundaries of her new duties. She moved away from Gideon’s hand and nodded her thanks to Anders as he set a fresh cup of tea in front of her.
Gideon’s confusion was evident, which was astounding in itself. Sarah seemed to disconcert him routinely, when as long as Charles had known him he had been as stoic as a Spartan. Well, with everyone except Charles. Whether this was good or bad, Charles hadn’t yet decided. Gideon’s emotional recalcitrance may drive him mad, but it was the way they were used to operating. Charles wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with an overly emotional Gideon. God save us. But then Gideon had never had to deal with a wife before. He’d adjust, hopefully.
“I’m agreeable to any changes you should like to make,” Gideon said after clearing his throat. He picked up his fork and began eating his now cold breakfast without so much as a grimace.
Charles sat back in his chair and continued to openly observe the conversation. Neither Gideon nor Sarah seemed to be concerned about his presence. He was undecided as to whether that was good or bad too.
“If I may,” Sarah said, and Charles could tell she was forcibly interjecting some firmness into her tone. Good for her. Show him your backbone, my girl, Charles thought with an inner grin. “I thought I might like to change a few things around the house. It is rather masculine for my tastes. But if that is what you prefer, by all means I shall leave it as it is.”
Hardly a firm demand, but a stand all the same. Charles turned to watch Gideon’s response.
Gideon was looking at Sarah as if she had two heads. “My dear Mrs. North, I care not one whit what you do with the house. As long as I have a bed and desk on the premises, I shall be content.” He looked at Charles in complete bewilderment. “Charles?”
Charles let his smile show this time. “We did not change anything about the house when we took possession, Mrs. North. None of the decorating is ours. The blame lies solely with the previous owner.” He leaned forward and winked at Sarah, which caused another blush. “And I am very curious to see what you can do with the place. Change Blakely House any way you like. You have my blessing also.”
“Ah,” Gideon said with finality, “and there you have it. Charles approves.” Charles glanced over at him with a frown. Gideon did not disappoint. “As in all things that go on at Blakely House, if Charles approves, then it must be done.” His tone was dry.
“Of course,” Charles responded with a polite nod for Gideon’s sally. “One of us has to do more than growl at everyone before anything gets done properly. It’s a wonder you haven’t driven all the servants off.”
“I haven’t managed to drive you off. If growling will work that magic, please let me know.”
“I am not a servant.” Charles was strangely hurt by this morning’s back-and-forth, although they had had almost the same exchange every morning for the last six years.
“No, you most certainly are not.” Sarah’s scandalized tone cut through the room and everyone, including Anders at the sideboard, froze. “Mr. North, I believe that was uncalled for.”
Gideon blushed. Charles wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that happen before.
“You are correct, Mrs. North,” Gideon said coolly. He nodded at Charles. “My apologies, Borden. I did not mean to intimate that you were a servant. Merely that I wish I had driven you off.”
Charles burst out laughing. “For a moment I actually thought you were going to apologize and I would need the smelling salts.”
“If you faint,” Gideon warned, “I shall have you bundled off on the next coach. That really would be the last straw, I’m afraid.”
“Duly noted.” Charles’ sarcasm was ignored.
“Mr. North,” Sarah said quietly. She reached out and touched his hand again. “Surely you don’t mean it. Mr. Borden is invaluable here at Blakely House.”
She frowned and her gaze shifted from Gideon to the window. The frown turned to a delighted smile and she unconsciously began rubbing her fingertip along the top of Gideon’s hand. Gideon sat frozen, staring at her hand on his.
Charles turned in his seat to see what had caught her eye. There were several horses close to the fence, frolicking. They were butting each other with their heads and spinning around, and then one rose on his back legs before crashing down and sprinting off. Spring hijinks in the meadow.
“Why is it called Blakely House?” Sarah asked curiously without taking her eyes off the horses. She watched them hungrily. Why? What about them did she hunger for?
“No idea,” Gideon answered, back to his gruff ways. “That was what they called it when we bought it. I suppose someone named Blakely owned it once or built it or some such thing.”
“Yes, but why House?” Sarah pressed. She looked at Gideon and then Charles. “It is so much more than that now, isn’t it?” She pushed her chair back and Anders rushed over to assist her. Charles and Gideon made as if to stand and Sarah waved them back into place. “Oh stop,” she said absentmindedly. She wandered over to the window and put her hand on the sill. “I suppose if we called it Blakely Home, people would try to ensconce their invalids here.”
She choked and spun to stare wide-eyed at Gideon. “I…I didn’t mean… That is, I was making a jest. A very poor one, I think.”
Gideon merely raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes piercing her mercilessly. “I am hardly an invalid.”
Sarah shook her head and suddenly her eyes were as bright as Gideon’s, full of what had happened between them all last night. “No sir. No, you are not,” she agreed quietly. The room was suffused with a different kind of tension now.
Gideon stood up abruptly and Anders was there with his crutches. He moved out from the table but didn’t leave. “If Blakely House displeases you, then you may choose a different name. Although I do agree that Blakely Home smacks of the infirmary.”
Sarah blushed a painful red and Charles took pity on her. “I fear we would begin to receive inquiries as to available space for mental incompetents.” Both Sarah and Gideon turned to stare at him and he sm
iled wickedly. “And we’ve only room for Gideon.”
Gideon smiled back with ill humor. “You become less amusing as the day wears on.”
“To you, perhaps. But the rest of the world dotes on me.”
“And there you have it again,” Gideon rejoined flatly. “We shall name it Borden Home.”
Charles laughed and looked at Sarah, who seemed uncomfortable with their banter. “What do you wish to call it, Mrs. North?”
She licked her lips and again Charles had thoughts inappropriate for the breakfast room. “I was thinking perhaps Blakely Farm?” she ventured timidly.
“Blakely Farm,” Charles mused. “Yes, I like it. Gideon?”
“If the two of you are satisfied, then I am more than content.” The look Gideon gave them both was inscrutable. Charles wished he knew exactly how Gideon meant his comment. But the hard truths of their past convinced him to take it at face value to the conversation.
Charles looked back at Sarah. “Welcome to Blakely Farm, Mrs. North,” he said gently. Sarah clasped her hands together and gifted him and Gideon with a smile brimming with possibilities.
Chapter Eight
As Sarah inventoried the linen she thought about the conversation she’d had with Gideon and Charles at breakfast the other morning. The morning after her wedding night. Sarah had to stop and put her hands to her burning cheeks as she looked up and down the hallway to make sure no one saw her blushing for no apparent reason.
Refusing to let her mind get sidetracked yet again as it had numerous times in the last few days with thoughts of that night, Sarah cleared her throat and took another pile of linen off the shelf. Goodness, they had an awful lot of linen. Someone had clearly been saving for a rainy, cold day. She counted the pillow covers. Twenty-seven. Not only was it an odd number, but she was relatively sure that they did not have that many pillows in the house. They hadn’t enough beds to hold them. Thoughts of beds naturally led her to thoughts of that night.
She gave in and closed her eyes, smoothing her fingers over the soft linen beneath her hand. She wished it was a firm, hairy chest instead. She nearly moaned aloud as she remembered the feel of Charles’ burly chest against her fingertips, Gideon pressed to her back. And then Charles was against her back as she sat astride Gideon’s lap, wanton and full and desperate to feel that pleasure again, the pleasure she’d learned under Gideon’s mouth. She felt a pulse in her sex and she grew warm in the closed-off hallway. Her eyes flew open and she frantically looked around. She mustn’t let the servants see her daydreaming like this.
Sarah worried her lip as she placed the pillow covers back on the shelf. Gideon had not knocked on her door for the last three nights, not since their wedding night. Neither had Charles, which was appropriate, after all. He was not her husband. He had only been there at Gideon’s request. Her breasts grew heavy and her nipples ached as she remembered Charles touching and sucking them.
In frustration she fell back against the wall beside the linen closet with a loud thump. Why had they not come back? She was a complete wreck, watching and waiting and wondering. It was driving her mad. Had she done something wrong? There had been no indication either way, really. After it was over Sarah had been so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. First Charles and then Gideon had risen from her bed, dressed and left to go to their own rooms. She hadn’t liked that at all. At home Papa and her stepmother slept in the same room. Both men had offered her sincere thanks, which embarrassed her mightily, and then made quiet departures. But they had not uttered one word about whether or not she had performed satisfactorily. Then again, they had let her rename the farm. That made it as much hers now as theirs, didn’t it? They wouldn’t have done that if they weren’t happy with her.
Sarah turned and yanked yet another stack of linen off the shelf. It wasn’t as if she could ask them, was it? Conversations had been limited to meals, and those were stilted recitations of her day. She would dearly love to see Gideon’s reaction were she to broach the subject at luncheon in front of an astounded Anders. Sarah laughed mirthlessly. She wanted the physical intimacy of marriage. It was part of why she had sought a husband. She sighed and buried her face in the pile of sheets.
She was lonely. A bride should not be lonely mere days after her wedding. The house was so quiet. What were they doing right now? Was Gideon in his office? Was Charles down in the paddock with the horses? She was too afraid to ask. Too afraid of looking like a fool.
“What are you doing?”
The question was asked in a mildly curious tone, but having thought she was alone, Sarah jerked upright and couldn’t stop a short shriek of surprise from escaping before she clapped her hand over her mouth.
Charles fell back a step or two, his eyes wide. “Good Lord, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you all right?”
Sarah pulled her hand away. “I’m fine,” she squeaked. She cleared her throat. “You just…yes, startled me.” She turned back and busied herself with the linen. “I’m taking inventory of the linen.”
“By smelling it?”
Charles sounded amused, which made Sarah more than a bit angry. Here she was lonely beyond words and longing for a touch, and he found her desperation amusing?
“It smells a little musty,” Sarah snapped without looking at him.
“Oh, Mrs. North! I am so sorry.” Sarah’s head jerked up and she saw Mrs. Brown standing behind Charles. The housekeeper seemed quite upset at Sarah’s comment and she could have kicked herself. In her selfishness she’d lashed out without thought.
“Oh, it’s nothing Mrs. Brown,” Sarah said quickly. “Simply disuse. A little lavender water sprinkled on the sheets will take care of it, I’m sure.”
Mrs. Brown paled. “Lavender water? Well, you see Mrs. North, we haven’t much of that. Mr. North and Mr. Borden…” she trailed off.
“Are not prone to smelling like lavender,” Charles finished with a grin. “The horses take exception to it. But now that there is a woman in the house they will just have to get used to it.”
“You can get some in the village, Mrs. Brown,” Sarah told her with a smile. “And while you are there perhaps you could stop at the apothecary? I noticed yesterday we are in need of some items for the medicine chest.”
Mrs. Brown wrung her hands. “I cannot go today, Mrs. North,” she apologized. “We are short two maids, as I mentioned earlier, and it is baking day. I am needed here.”
Sarah waved her off. “That’s fine, Mrs. Brown. It isn’t urgent. You can get them later in the week. That will be soon enough.”
“Have you been to the village, Sarah?” Charles asked with a frown. “Since the wedding?”
It was Sarah’s turn to blanche. “No, I…I have not needed to. It has only been a few days, after all.” And would be many, many more before she went if she had her way. At least until Sunday. And if handled properly even church need not require a great deal of socializing.
“Let’s go.” Charles grabbed her arm without waiting for an answer and began to drag her down the hallway.
“What?” Sarah was incredulous. He couldn’t just drag her off to the village, could he? She clung tightly to the small pile of sheets she still held and tried to plant her feet, but his pull was inexorable. Mrs. Brown rushed to catch up and they engaged in a brief tug-of-war over the sheets. Mrs. Brown won.
“Now don’t worry, Mrs. North, I’ll take care of these. You go on to the village with Mr. Borden. I’m sure it will be nice to get away for a little while.”
Sarah could only stare wide-eyed with incredulity at Mrs. Brown over her shoulder as Charles dragged her away. Was the woman daft? Did she honestly think Sarah would find it “nice” to be stared at like an oddity from a traveling circus?
Before she knew it she was standing in the hall while Anders shoved her coat over her arms. Charles was adjusting his hat as he watched with approval.
“Blue is quite becoming on you, Mrs. North.” His comment was made politely, but Sarah caught a gleam in his
eyes that had nothing to do with politeness. Her heart soared and then she blushed and glanced nervously at Anders. He was busy fetching her bonnet and paying them no mind. To him Charles’ comment must seem nothing more than the polite flattery practiced by so many gentlemen. Perhaps that’s all it was, truly. Sarah mustn’t read too much into it.
Suddenly Charles winked from under his rakishly perched hat and Sarah caught her breath.
The study door opened and Gideon appeared on his crutches. He stopped as he saw them all in the hall. “Where are you going?” His question was curious, nothing more. He held a sheaf of papers in his hand.
“To the village,” Charles replied. “Mrs. North needs a few things.”
Gideon nodded absently. “Good, good.” His gaze grew sharp as he watched Sarah put her bonnet on. “When you return I need to speak to you about these.” He raised the papers. “But there is no hurry.” He turned back to the study and as the door was closing behind him, called out, “Get her a new hat, would you Charles?” Sarah’s mouth dropped open and she was about to tell him her hat was none of his business when his sparkling blue eyes met hers briefly over his shoulder. He caught the door with his elbow and held it open. “Make sure that one meets an untimely and violent demise.” Then the door swung shut in her astonished face.
“Well!” she said. What else could she say to the closed door? Truthfully she didn’t like the bonnet either. That didn’t mean she was giving it up without an argument, however. She wore it for a reason. It hid her birthmark beautifully.
She saw a small gig waiting for them in the drive as she and Charles went down the front steps. When had Charles asked for that? It was almost as if the entire house was attuned to Charles’ needs at all times. This wasn’t the first time that whatever he needed magically appeared without a word being spoken. The servants adored him. He was always unfailingly polite and gracious with them. In the short time she’d been here Sarah had determined that Charles was not a distant estate manager but instead a man who worked right alongside the staff, listened to their problems and helped when he could. Yet they treated him like a gentleman, not an equal. Sarah had the impression that Charles had earned the deference of the servants through his kindness and industry. She hoped to do the same. She didn’t want the staff to obey her simply because she was Mrs. North, although they would. But it would be so much better, and easier, if they respected her as a person and not just her station.
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