Love Regency Style

by Samantha Holt

  Tail wagging furiously, Harold bounded to the other edge of the furrow and let out a small ‘woof ’.

  Henry turned to regard the pup. “Indeed,” he replied, wondering if Harold had seen the coins as they were dropped by whomever guided the plow horse. But then he noticed the rotting remains of pasteboard. As he pulled several pieces of pasteboard out of the ground, more coins appeared.

  Harold was suddenly in the middle of the mess, his paws digging quickly to further separate the remains. With another low ‘woof ’, he buried his snout into the ground.

  “Harold,” Henry said with a shake of his head. “Your mis­tress is not going to be happy when she sees how dirty you’ve managed to get …”

  Harold’s head appeared from the hole, his bared teeth dis­playing his latest find. Henry stared at the dog before glancing down at the collection of coins.

  The memory of his son telling him of the lost pirate trea­sure came to him in a flash as Harold dropped a dirt encrusted object into Henry’s outstretched hand. Then the dog pulled his back legs under him and sat up, his head cocking to one side as Henry fingered the object until the small clods of dirt gave way to reveal the gold and ruby of his signet ring.

  “I’ll be damned,” he breathed, holding the ring up before Harold. “My ring. You found my ring, Harold.”

  Standing up briefly and turning in a tight circle, Harold wagged his tail before he returned to his sitting position. Henry gave him a pat on the head before gathering up the coins. “You found the buried treasure! These are Nathan’s,” he said as he rubbed the dirt off several of the sovereigns, showing each one to the dog as if he would understand. There were nine in all; Henry couldn’t be sure if his son had buried any more than that in the pasteboard box that made up the treasure chest he and Andrew had created that day just over a year ago.

  Shaking his head, Henry pushed the treasure into a golden pile. “Good dog,” he said with a nod. “Let’s get these home.” With that, Henry cradled the coins and ring in one hand against the front of his body while he mounted Thunder. He directed the horse back toward the stables while Harold ran along side, his tail waving behind him.

  Henry wondered how he should tell his son of the find. Perhaps he would just package them into a pasteboard box and give them to Nathan later that night when he paid him a visit. His son would be thrilled to discover his birthday pres­ents had been found, and probably even more thrilled to find out they had been found by little Harold.

  Or perhaps he would keep them until Nathan’s eleventh birthday and give them to him then.

  The excitement he felt at having found the treasure was too much to bear, though. When he dismounted, he handed the reins of Thunder to a stable boy and hurried into the house by way of the back door into the kitchen.

  He wondered what Hannah might think. She would cer­tainly be distressed to see Harold’s front paws covered in dirt as they were right now. He could imagine his wife admonish­ing the poor pup even as the two of them approached the door to the kitchen.

  “My lord?” The voice of the cook sounded as surprised as Henry had been only moments before.

  “Yes, Mrs. Chambers, it’s just me. And what has Lady Gis­born decided we’re having for dinner this evening?” he won­dered, hoping the cook wouldn’t notice Harold following him into the house. He was aware there had been an issue with the late Harold and his first visit to the kitchen.

  “Beggin’ your pardon, my lord, but Lady Gisborn says if you was to ask, I was to tell you ’tis a surprise and not be tell­ing you. But you’ll like it just fine, if you catch my meaning,” she said, one eye winking as she wiped her hands on her dirty apron.

  Henry gave the cook his best grin and motioned for Har­old to follow him.

  Harold paused and gave the cook an imploring glance. “Oh, would you look at the wee one. Got into some trouble now, did he?” she spoke in a good natured voice, not sounding angry in the least.

  “Actually, he got my son out of a good deal of trouble today,” Henry countered. “If you can keep your tongue, I’d be much obliged,” he said as he held out his ungloved hand. The signet ring, still a bit caked in dirt, shown from his fourth finger.

  The cook took a closer look. “Well, I’ll be!” she breathed, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “Harold found that, did he?” she whispered, obviously impressed with the pup.

  “He did, indeed. But he’s gone and gotten himself a bit dirty in the process …”

  “Oh, don’t you be worrying none about that, my lord,” Mrs. Chambers replied with a wave of her hand. “I can see to it Billy gets him cleaned up right quick.” She turned and yelled in her more annoying imitation of a Welsh milkmaid. “Billy! Git your sorry bottom in here right quick!”

  Henry had to keep himself from rolling his eyes as Harold gave him a tentative glance and the cook moved toward the door from which he and Harold had entered from the stables. The young groom hurried into the kitchen, breathless. “Yes, ma’am?” he offered, his cap coming off his head and his body bending in the middle as he bowed to the earl. “My lord,” he murmured, his face turning a scarlet red.

  “Bill,” Henry replied, giving the young man a nod. “Are you leg-shackled yet?” he asked, keeping his voice as serious as possible.

  The groom shook his head. “The second reading of the banns is this Sunday, my lord. Lily’s father gave me permission to ask for her hand the Sunday after we got her back, and she agreed to marry me,” he said, his chest puffing out just a bit with the news.

  Henry gave the groom a nod. “And are you settled into your new quarters yet?”

  Billy dared a glance at the cook before he shrugged. “I’m moved in, but seeing as how we’re not married yet, Lily is still in her room, my lord,” he answered, his face reddening as if Lily might already be sharing his bed.

  The earl remembered the night he had seen Billy bathing Lily and wondered if he should have seen to a special license for the couple. But since they were going about their wedding the more traditional route, Henry found he couldn’t argue with how things were progressing. And then the thought struck him—if he and Hannah had waited for banns to be read for three weeks prior to their wedding, they still wouldn’t be married!

  “Where will the ceremony be held?” the earl asked then, wondering if he and Hannah would be invited to attend.

  Exchanging glances with Mrs. Chambers, Billy took a breath and said, “The chapel in Bampton, my lord. Lily and I were hoping you and your countess could be in attendance. That is, if you don’t have any place else you have to be that day,” he added, making Henry wonder if the groom really wanted him to attend.

  “We’ll be there,” Henry said with a nod. He glanced down at Harold. “I’m sure you must be wondering why you were called in,” he said, nodding in the cook’s direction.

  Mrs. Chambers took her cue. “Get some water heated up and give the pup a bath. Use the tub you used for big Harold when last you done it. And see to it he gets a treat.” She turned to the earl. “I saved the trimmin’s from last night’s ham for him,” she said, giving Henry another wink.

  “That was very considerate of you,” he offered, wanting her to know she could continue doing such things with the dog in mind.

  The large woman beamed, her rosy cheeks reddening with embarrassment.“Thank ye, my lord.” She returned her atten­tion to the groom, and, as if she hadn’t just been the sweetest thing to the earl, she said, “Now git going!”

  Billy hurried off, calling Harold to follow him. Harold looked up at Henry, as if he was asking for permission to fol­low the groom. Henry nodded and waved him off. The puppy gave a short ‘woof ’ and hurried off after the young man.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Chambers,” he said with another nod before making his way out of the kitchen and up the servants’ stairs. He hadn’t gone far before Parkerhouse stepped out of his quarters.

  “My lord?” he said, obviously surprised to find the earl on the servants’ stairs.

&n
bsp; “Yes, Parkerhouse. Would there be a pasteboard box … about so big,” he held out one hand to indicate a small size, “That a gift of coins might fit into?”

  The butler puffed out his chest as he considered the earl’s question. “I believe there is one in your study, my lord. Your latest book arrived in it last week. And there’s a letter for the countess on your desk.”

  Henry considered what book that might have been. One on farming, no doubt. “That should do, Parkerhouse. See to its placement on the desk in my study. I’ll need it directly follow­ing dinner.”

  He thought to give the coins to Parkerhouse for him to clean and put in the box, but some things were too important to have a servant do. He took his leave of the butler and con­tinued up the stairs, wondering if he might catch a glimpse of Hannah before she changed for dinner. Opening the door that led to the main hall, he caught sight of her conversing with the housekeeper. She held a long sheet of parchment, and Hannah and Mrs. Batey were both studying it. His heart clenched as he watched her face light up in delight at something the house­keeper had just said.

  He continued to watch, leaning his tall body against the door frame.

  In only a moment, the countess seemed to sense that someone was watching her. She slowly turned to find the earl, his arms crossed over his chest and one foot crossed over the other, doing just that. “My lord!” she spoke with a hint of sur­prise. She excused herself and moved to stand before him as the housekeeper hurried off with the parchment. About to curtsy, Hannah was suddenly pulled hard against the front of his body. “Oh!” she managed to get out before Henry’s lips came down onto hers.

  Although he had frequently kissed her without preamble in their bedchambers, he had never blatantly done so where anyone could witness their indiscretion. Hannah finally reached her hands to his neck and returned the kiss, a slight moan escaping before Henry eventually released her.

  “Good afternoon, my lady,” he whispered, his nose grazing her temple and forehead before his lips touched her forehead.

  “And to you, my lord,” Hannah whispered back. She quickly glanced around, thinking a footman or maid might be witnessing their tryst.

  “There’s a letter for you in my study. And no one saw us,” Henry whispered, his arms wrapping around her waist and holding her hard against his front. “I have it on good author­ity that no one is here but us,” he murmured. The sound of a throat clearing had him grasping Hannah closer to his body as he moved to protect her from their interloper.

  “Pardon me, my lord,” Parkerhouse said in his most bored sounding tone. The butler moved by the couple and headed toward the study, disappearing into the room without a back­ward glance at the earl and countess.

  Clearly mortified, Hannah had to move a hand to cover her mouth. “Henry!” she managed to get out before her hus­band let her go.

  Not the least bit embarrassed at having been found in error, Henry grinned. “Come, my lady. I have something to show you,” he said with a hint of mischief.

  Hannah’s face turned bright pink.

  “Not that, my lady,” he said as he realized his manhood had created a bulge in his doeskin breeches. “These,” he said as he held out his handful of sovereigns.

  Her eyes widening at the sight of the dirt encrusted coins, Hannah gave him a curious glance. “Where did you find them?” she wondered, one long finger pushing the top one aside to reveal another below. She thought there had to be at least a half-dozen in the stack.

  “I didn’t. Harold did,” he said as he turned and offered her his arm. Hannah placed her hand on it and walked alongside him as he explained what had happened in the newly plowed field the year before. “Parkerhouse is getting a box for me now. Once I have these cleaned up, I’ll see to it they’re returned to Nathan.”

  Hannah’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “He’ll be so relieved to learn of their discovery,” she breathed. “But what of your sig­net ring? Wasn’t that in the same treasure box he buried?”

  Henry grinned as he held up his other hand. The ruby caught the candlelight of a nearby torch. “Safe and sound, although it needs a good cleaning,” he announced proudly. “As does Harold. Billy is seeing to that right now.”

  Hannah stopped, a look of horror on her face. “What is it?” Henry wondered, his brows furrowing.

  Hannah shrugged but did not return the earl’s gaze. “Are you … angry with him?” she asked, her voice very quiet as they entered his study. The pasteboard box was already on his desk, its lid sitting off to one side.

  Henry’s brows continued to show concern. “Of course not. He found the treasure, Hannah,” he said with a shrug, as if Harold’s behavior could be excused because something good had come of it. “He’s actually a very good dog. Just as loyal as his predecessor and a bit better looking, I must say.” He found the letter Parkerhouse mentioned and was about to hand it to her.

  At that, a brilliant smile appeared on Hannah’s face. Hen­ry’s heart seemed to clench at the sight of it, but he reminded himself they were talking of her pet just then. He imagined her making that brilliant smile when told that one of their chil­dren had done something good. “Now, I just want to get these coins cleaned up a bit before I package them in this box,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “And then I’ll get dressed for dinner.” He glanced at her again, his gaze locked on her when he noticed a look of mischief on her face.“What is it?” he wondered. Dumping the coins onto his desk, he moved to wrap his arms around her waist.

  “I think you should leave them just as they are, with their bits of dried mud,” she murmured in a quiet voice. “The way real pirates might find them.” She gazed at him through her lowered lashes.

  Henry chuckled. “And what, pray tell, do you know of real pirates, my lady?” he teased, giving her a peck on the forehead.

  “Only what I read in stories, of course,” she replied with an arched eyebrow. “Just because I look like I stepped out of the pages of a fairy tale doesn’t mean I’ve only read those kinds of books.”

  Intrigued by her comment, Henry moved a bit closer, one arm moving up to her shoulder. “And what story might you be thinking about this very moment?” he whispered, his lips tak­ing purchase on her temple.

  Hannah inhaled sharply, thinking fast to come up with the most titillating tale she could think of. She was now cer­tain she was with child, but once she told Henry, she feared he would no longer come to her bedchamber every night. He had only promised to bed her every night for another two weeks. The thought of spending her nights alone made her feel quite bereft, empty even. “Lady Godiva,” she whispered, her lips moving to leave their mark along his jaw. She felt Henry’s body stiffen and then wondered if she should have come up with a different tale.

  “I do not tax my tenants beyond their ability to pay,” Henry whispered back, his teeth capturing her earlobe. “In fact, I do not tax them at all,” he added, sounding as if he had taken umbrage at her suggestion that he was an autocratic leader.

  Hannah let out a slight squeak. “I was thinking of you more as the … noble steed,” she clarified, her eyebrow arching when Henry caught her naughty look. “You know. The horse she rode so fast and so hard as she was making her protest.”

  Henry stared at her for a very long five seconds. Then he glanced about the room, suddenly in a panic. “Well, I … I can’t very well take you on the desk,” he murmured, his attention moving to various chairs, tables and even the fireplace.

  Moving to the door, Hannah drove home the bolt lock, turned, and leaned her back against the panel. With her hands behind her back and her head resting against the door panel, she regarded her suddenly discomfited husband with that arched eyebrow. “Lady Godiva mounted her horse, Henry. Not the other way ’round,” she said in a voice so silky she didn’t recognize it as her own. She stepped forward, removed a slip­per using the toe of her other slipper, and lifted her foot to the edge of the desk. With one hand, she raised her skirt to just past the knee, revealing a shap
ely calf encased in a sheer silk stocking. “You’ll have to play my lady’s maid first, of course. And then the horse.”

  Henry gulped. “I can do that,” he said, his voice not sound­ing the least bit in control. He moved to the other side of the desk, his hands reaching out to rest on her leg. That’s when he noticed the clear outlines of hardened nipples beneath her bodice. She was aroused, there was no doubt of that. The fact that her nipples were evident meant … the minx wasn’t wear­ing a corset!

  And then he had to remind himself that he had left that morning before helping her dress. But Lily was back to being her abigail. Which meant … had she planned this assignation? Had she chosen not to wear a corset in anticipation of seduc­ing him? The thought excited him, addled him so thoroughly he found himself quite willing to do whatever she asked.

  Slipping a finger under the edge of the silk, he managed to get the stocking to roll down her leg. When it popped off the end of her toes, she lifted her other leg and gave him an expres­sion of feigned boredom. He quickly removed the stocking on that leg, rather proud he was able to do so without snagging the silk.

  Lowering her leg from his desk so that she stood on bare feet, Hannah waited patiently while Henry regarded her with barely controlled lust.

  “Lady Godiva was naked, Henry,” she whispered, wonder­ing why he was staring at her with such a besotted look on his face. She could hardly believe what she was doing, but Eliza­beth had been quite insistent that play acting was good for a relationship. Keep him guessing, Hannah. Keep him interested. Keep him entertained.

  Blinking, Henry moved to stand behind Hannah. His hands were at her shoulders in an instant, his fingers fumbling to undo the buttons down the back of her gown. “I can do this,” he said again, his voice sounding husky. “I’ve become very good at it these past few days,” he said, referring to her frequent requests of assistance when undressing for bed. As a testament to his words, the gown, along with her chemise, were suddenly pulled up and off of her body.