by Lucy Langton
The mere mention of Lady Spencer’s name caused Emilia’s hair to stand on end. There seemed to be no suspicion in the earl’s words, so she concluded that he could not sense anything amiss in Lady Spencer’s temperament or bearing.
“I trust that you had a pleasant evening?” Deirdre said, her eyes growing heavy.
“It was quiet and peaceful,” Emilia said. In truth, it had been an evening that left her anxious to no end. She had been preoccupied with thoughts of the earl, and of Hugh and his possible duplicity. And if she could tell the truth, she would say that, whenever the earl was gone, she felt his absence keenly, and when he returned, she was filled with joy.
“It’s time to retire, sister. The hour is late,” the earl said, getting up from his chair.
“I’m too tired to go to my room. I’ll sleep here,” Deirdre said, laying herself across the floor in front of the fire.
“Come now, don’t be absurd,” the earl scolded, walking to his sister and standing over her. “This is not how a young lady is to behave.”
“But brother, I’m so terribly exhausted,” Deirdre said softly, not opening her eyes.
“Must I carry you like a baby?”
“Yes, brother,” Deirdre said dreamily, not moving one inch.
“Very well,” he replied, reaching down and picking her up. He carried her as though she were as light as air.
“Goodnight,” Deirdre said, to no one in particular.
“Goodnight, Deirdre,” Emilia said, trying to conceal a laugh.
The earl walked out of the room, sister in his arms, and Emilia was left alone to stare at the dying fire.
Overwhelming feelings swarmed her breast. She still felt fear for the earl’s safety. Something was deeply stinging her, but Emilia could not tell if it was possessiveness, jealousy, or just an overwhelming need to be near the earl yet again that night. She couldn’t deny how delicious it was to explore him with her fingers, to feel the warm hardness of his body. She wished to do it again. Nay, she needed to do it again, it was like a hunger that could never be sated.
The earl no doubt had placed Deirdre in her bed by then and had returned to his own quarters in order to sleep. Was she truly bold enough to do the thing that she yearned so strongly to do? Yes, Emilia needed to confront him again. It was of the utmost importance. If the earl did not realise he was in danger, as Hugh’s conduct seemed to confirm, then it was Emilia’s duty to bring it to his attention again and again. There was no one else at Glastonbrook that had the perspective that she had, nor the courage to confront the earl with what she believed to be the truth.
She made haste to exit the parlour and walk down the hall, her footfall quiet as a mouse. Instead of taking the servants’ stairs, she proceeded to the east wing where the members of the household ascended to their own rooms.
Upon reaching the earl’s floor, Emilia felt her breath catch in her chest. Was she doing the right thing? Her spirit moved her forward in ways that she could not comprehend. She must confront him that very moment, if only for his own safety, and for her own need to be close to him.
She gently knocked upon the earl’s door, hoping that he was not already asleep. Upon hearing no reply, she placed her hand on the knob and turned. Within, the earl was not only awake, he was seated at his desk, a taper lit, his elbow resting on the table and his hand in his hair, deep in thought as though something were torturing him. His hair was wild, and his eyes were weary.
“M’Lord,” Emilia whispered, imploring him to look her way.
When he turned, his eyes went wide with surprise, but he did not speak.
“I have come to make sure . . . everything is all right,” Emilia said.
“You taunt me,” the earl said softly.
“No, M’Lord. I merely feel a sense of duty. I do not trust Lady Spencer, and this whole night I have been riddled with fear.”
“Nonsense,” the earl said, looking away.
“I do not know what her intentions are. Nor Hugh’s.”
“Miss Stewart, I was grateful for your insistence that I attend the ball. It was good not only for Deirdre but for myself. There’s a whole world out there that you have opened my eyes to.”
“I would like to think so,” Emilia replied, stepping fully into the room.
“There’s no reason for me to live in this house as though it were a prison. My dark obsessions . . . ” the earl said, his voice trailing off.
“Yet still, you must take consideration to your safety. It’s easy to trust those that are closest to you, even when they don’t have the best intentions.”
“And what are your intentions?” the earl asked.
“To look after you. And Lady Deirdre,” Emilia said softly.
“And is that all?” the earl asked.
“All that I can think of, yes,” Emilia replied.
*
In the silence that followed it all became too much for Lord Forest. The sight of Emilia in his chamber, her modest dress clinging to her in such a way that it betrayed her modesty. Her eyes were moist and penitent, her hair slightly undone, and her skin glowed in the dim light of the taper. Something swelled within him that could not be denied. They were alone, in privacy, and there was nothing in the world that could hold back his desire.
The earl got up from his seat slowly, his whole body swelling with blood and desire. He walked past Emilia, seeing the same longing in her eyes mixed with doubt and confusion. He was to put her doubts to rest, that very moment.
*
The earl closed the door to his chamber and locked it. Emilia swallowed hard, and her heart began to race faster than she had ever felt in her life. As he walked towards her, he was like a hunter who had caught his prey, only the prey was just as willing to submit as he was to conquer.
He grabbed her swiftly and swung her around, pressing her back against the door. The earl brought his lips to Emilia’s, but unlike the kiss that they had shared in the garden, this one was full of lust and need, unwilling to stop.
Emilia gave in to his kiss, his unrelenting desire, and grasped onto him for fear that she might fall. Bringing his hand to the side of her face, the earl slowly lowered it till it was upon her neck, then he brought his lips to where his hands were, and she could feel the warmth of his mouth upon her skin. Emilia let out a moan of pleasure and surrendered to his need.
His hands went downward, from her neck to her shoulder, along her waist, finally grasping her hip. He drew her hips close to his, and Emilia could feel how fully aroused the earl was. His whole body was aching for hers, to have her completely, and Emilia was more than willing to comply. She would still give herself to him fully, even if it meant the destruction of her reputation.
*
Feeling her dainty hips pressed against his, the earl became incensed, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his torso. He considered exploring her body with his lips, her collarbone, her neck, her breasts, each new part explored with reverence and hunger.
“Please, please,” Emilia begged, wanting so much more.
“Emilia,” the earl said, his voice tortured and hoarse.
Pulling her away from the door, tightly in his arms, the earl carried her to his large bed and gently placed her upon it, lying her on her back. His shirt had come undone. She brought her hands up to his chest and felt every muscle in his torso as he strained.
*
As though it were the greatest nuisance in the world, the earl hastily removed his shirt, exposing his full chest for Emilia to see. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe. The earl’s masculine physique was more than she thought she could physically bear. Would he crush her entirely? She needed to remind him to be gentle, and yet something within her could not form the words.
The earl grasped Emilia’s hips and pulled them towards where he stood at the edge of the bed. She could feel his hardness yet again, but this time more forcefully, as though the earl were practically inside of her.
A shudder of fear overcame Emilia a
s she realised that, having never been with a man before, she had no idea what to expect. Would the earl cause harm? Would there be pain? Yet somehow, looking into his remarkable blue eyes, she sensed that there was nothing to fear. For mingled with all that lust and desire was a tenderness that she could trust.
*
“Emilia,” the earl whispered, pulling her hips into him yet again. From beneath her skirt he could feel warm moisture, and he knew that he had her right where he wanted her. “Emilia,” he said again.
She moaned with pleasure as his hands explored her body, untying the front of her bodice and exposing her firm breasts. Her nipples stood erect, and the earl gently held them in his fingers, massaging and caressing them. She cried out again. He brought his hands to the sides of her breasts and cupped them gently, pushing them together and looking deeply into Emilia’s eyes.
“I need you,” he said, teeth clenched.
*
Emilia could not speak. She needed him as well, so deeply and fully that everything else melted away.
The earl leaned over her, bringing his lips to her breastbone and drawing them upwards to her neck. Emilia arched her back, bringing her body up to meet his hungry mouth. As he was consuming her neck, the earl brought a gentle hand to Emilia’s inner thigh, pushing her skirt away so that he could explore without encumbrance.
He gently moved his fingers upward, beneath her undergarments, tickling her inner thigh, then slowly brought his finger between her legs and felt her warm wetness upon his fingers. He moaned, unable to back down in light of Emilia’s readiness. Exploring her fully, the earl finally took one finger and slid it inside of her, and Emilia cried out as though she had been punctured.
*
But the earl had not come anywhere near to her maidenhead. What he merely confirmed was that she, as he suspected, was treading in unfamiliar waters. Fear instantly filled him, for he did not wish to inflict that inevitable hurt that they were so near to.
“Emilia, you’re so small,” he said, his voice pained, his finger still inside her. It seemed impossible to him that he and Emilia could fit together. It would cause the girl excruciating pain, and that was too much for him to bear.
“What do you mean?” Emilia asked breathlessly.
He could go no further. Removing his finger from inside of her, he carefully returned Emilia’s skirt to its former position, and clasped her bodice over her.
“M’Lord?” Emilia asked.
“It’s too much,” he said, defeated.
“It’s all right,” she said, hoping to reassure him.
But the earl removed his body from hers and walked towards a chair where a large blanket lay folded. He came back to the bed and reached down to bring Emilia to a seated position, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders. But he would not look her in the eye.
“You must go now,” the earl said coldly.
“M’Lord?”
“Go at once,” he said, his voice strangled.
“Yes, M’Lord,” Emilia said, hastily leaving the room.
Once she was gone, the earl lay on his bed and looked at the ceiling, his mind and heart racing in unison. He needed Emilia like he had never needed anything before. But how was he to proceed?
Chapter 20
In the days that followed, Emilia was heartbroken and confused. That night in the earl’s chamber, they had reached an intimacy that Emilia never thought possible, and every time that she thought about it her bones quaked with longing, and her heart ignited with unspeakable fire. But the encounter had ended so abruptly at the earl’s bidding that Emilia was left to wonder what had gone so badly.
What’s more, the earl refused to explain.
Although a simple explanation might still not suffice, the earl took it a step further by not speaking to Emilia for a number of days.
Emilia tried to keep a brave face, despite the doubt and sadness in her heart. What’s more, she was filled with fear. The earl’s silence brought back the demons that had taunted her previously, namely that Emilia feared that she would lose her position in the Glastonbrook home. And she also feared that perhaps she had lost the earl’s heart, something she had to admit was never fully in her possession in any case.
Over a lesson of Shakespeare’s sonnets Deirdre finally voiced her concerns.
“You seem tired,” she said, frowning.
“Perhaps it is the weather that makes me feel so,” Emilia replied.
“I don’t feel tired.”
“I haven’t been sleeping quite as well,” Emilia said, closing the book of sonnets and resting it in her lap.
“Would some cake cheer you up?”
“I’m afraid I have little appetite.”
“Deirdre,” said the earl’s voice as he charged into the room.
“Yes, brother?” she asked.
Emilia’s blood went cold. So it was in those days following the encounter in the earl’s room that every time he came near her body quivered and shook and she felt tears rise. He had undone her, she feared. Until she would have an explanation of what had happened, and what was going to happen in the future, Emilia was unsure how she was going to survive it all.
“May I have a word with you?” the earl asked.
“Of course, brother,” Deirdre said.
“Alone,” the earl added, hinting that Emilia’s presence was not welcome.
“As you wish,” Emilia said, putting down the book and rising to her feet. As she passed the earl, she felt the heat emanating from his body. Was there truly some kind of invisible pull between them? Emilia was almost certain that there was.
Upon exiting the room, Emilia felt the need to return to her old snooping ways. She wished to listen in at the door to know what the earl was saying to his sister. But to be caught doing so would further ruin her reputation in his eyes.
And truly, that was the greatest problem of all. Because she had submitted herself to the earl – albeit not fully – was she sullied in his mind? Did he look down upon her as a strumpet? Surely, his passion seemed to be just as intense as her own, so how could she be the one blamed? Such was the case that when a man gave over to his passion, he was being a man. Yet, when a woman did the same, particularly a woman in Emilia’s position, then she was a harlot, or worse.
Doubt and fear filled her. Emilia made her way to the garden, being sure to grab an umbrella that stood by the door, even though she failed to use it. Her shoes would be muddied, and her hair distressed, but she couldn’t help but give into the need to escape from that house, if only for a few moments.
As the rain came down at a steady clip, Emilia looked about at the grey expanses that surrounded Glastonbrook. Her fate was on the line. In fact, it lay waiting in the earl’s clenched fist. Perhaps he was telling Deirdre that very moment that he wished to get rid of Emilia. That he was searching for another governess and Deirdre should become detached from Emilia as soon as possible. She was almost certain that was what was happening.
Despite having held them in check for several days, Emilia finally let the tears fall. She felt safe crying out in the garden whilst the rain fell, because no one could possibly hear her sobbing. She released everything that was within her, but feared that the tears might never stop flowing. Yet she knew that she would get through this, just as she had the strength to get through every other challenge she had already faced in her life.
“Emilia!” Hugh called from the veranda.
She chose not to notice his cries, but instead walked away as though she was entirely deaf to his pleading.
“Emilia!” he cried out again, and she stopped in her tracks, considering whether or not she should turn back. She could just keep going, after all. She could run away, as fast as her feet could take her. But Emilia was convinced that if she did so, the earl would still manage to find her. She could not escape what she had done, and deep within, she didn’t even desire to do so.
“Emilia, come now!” Hugh called out one last time.
She could no
longer deny it, nor did she think it possible to escape, so Emilia turned back towards the house, umbrella in hand, and soaked to the bone. She sighed deeply, realising that she was giving herself over to Glastonbrook, to its history, and she was also relinquishing herself to the mercy of the earl.
Emilia waved her hand in the air to signify that she could see Hugh, and then slowly walked back towards the house, skirts catching on her legs from being soaked through.
“What is wrong with you?” Hugh asked as Emilia approached.
“I was merely taking a walk,” she explained.
“You’ll catch your death of cold, and the earl will be furious.”