by Janet Woods
‘Evelyn should have known better. You are judged by your appearance and the neckline is immodest.’ He turned and drew a fingertip across her bosom, then gently peeled a black heart-shaped patch from her skin. ‘You are wearing rouge on your nipples, and pretty as it is, it’s there for a reason––to invite the eyes of men and entice them to sample your wares.’
‘It does not seem to entice you.’
‘You’re quite wrong. In fact, I can hardly keep my damned hands off you. If you think I don’t want to drag that dress from your body and tumble you naked and willing on to the bed you are quite wrong.’
‘I would not be willing, so such a violation would not occur.’
He chuckled. ‘You would be unable to stop me, and if you think you don’t want my attention, you are also quite wrong. Allow me to demonstrate.’ He reached out and grazed his thumbs gently over her breasts. As they pushed against the red satin bodice she closed her eyes for the short moment of ecstatic contact.
When he reached out and drew her close she crumbled her against him, her mouth eager to receive the tender attention of his. His foot came around her ankle and she fell back on the bed with him half on top of her. He smiled gently down at her. ‘It would not take much to take advantage of you, I think.’
When she resisted, he simply pressed her into the bed with his knee. Deftly, he unlaced her bodice.
‘Stop it, Saville,’ she protested when he freed her breasts, to cup them warmly in his hands. ‘I’ll scream and bring the servants running.’ She didn’t struggle because it would only serve to inflame his senses more.
He covered her mouth with his and his tongue flirted with hers. Arousal was a swift and dangerous surge that filled her with desire and robbed her of will. She could only murmur with delight when he moved his mouth to her rouged nipples in a moist caress.
He gazed down at her his eyes half-hooded, in full control of himself. Heat flooded her cheeks and she felt ashamed of her weakness. ‘Let me up, I beg you.’
‘I would rather you begged me to continue, my Eve. You have aroused me most powerfully.’
Despite her inexperience, she knew it. She could feel against her thigh the powerful drive of him––could feel in herself the need to accept that part of him eager to conquer. She wanted to spread her naked body to his will and have him make it his own. Was she shameless like her mother, who had been wanton with so many men, and had lost all respect in the process? Tears filled her eyes as she attempted to cover her nakedness. She whimpered. ‘I am as you say. You have made me want you, and if that is your desire I will not be able to resist you.’
‘I would never hurt you,’ he said roughly, and his tongue gently curled the tears from her trembling lashes. ‘You know, I still cannot stand to see you cry.’ Then his weight was lifted from her body, allowing her to turn her nakedness to the pillow.
‘I need to compose myself, and I daresay you need the same. I shall wait for you downstairs in the drawing room. Shall I ring for Jessie?’
‘No, she will be in her bed.’
‘But Jessie appeared anyway, to help her into the blue gown Saville had bought to her. Graine was quiet, lacking her usual chatter. His gift of pearls was placed around her neck, the pearl earrings on her ears. Jessie pinned the bouquet of rosebuds at her waist.
‘The earl didn’t like me wearing the red gown, so I’d best not wear the roses.’
‘He sent you the posy, so you must wear it. Listen to Jessie, girl, for I’ve grown right fond of you. Yon earl is in a real twist over you,’ Jessie said, letting her know she’d guessed what had taken place between them. ‘His bark is worst than his bite. Sometimes he lets his temper off the leash, but if you stand up to him he soon comes to his senses. You won’t come to any harm with him.’
Graine kissed the woman’s worn cheek. ‘Thank you, Jessie.’ So when Saville sent up a message to enquire if she’d be much longer, she plucked a rosebud from her waist and sent it down to him, deciding to make him wait a further ten minutes,
He was twirling the bloom impatiently between his fingers when she went down. He didn’t avoid her eyes and, although Graine felt her cheeks warm, she didn’t avoid his. He held the rose to his nose and contemplated her for a moment before nodding his approval. He placed the rosebud inside his waistcoat and growled, ‘I was about to come up and fetch you.’
‘Then your ears would have been soundly boxed, for I’m tired of your overbearing ways.’
Softly, menacingly, he said, ‘Are you, now?’
‘The fact that I’m a guest in your house does not give you the right to order me around.’
A servant handed him his hat with exaggerated politeness.
Saville’s mouth twitched as he took it. ‘You’re being provocative, Graine.’ A statement which made her stamp her foot and scream with frustration, but only in her mind, so he wasn’t given an excuse to prove he was the master.’
She changed tactics, her smile becoming as sweet as honey when she saw Jessie at the top of the stairs. The maid began to dust the banister rail with her apron.
‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting, My Lord.’
‘Why did you?’
‘I was taking revenge because your earlier behavior was totally reprehensible.’
Mollie came wandering through a door to her left and began to polish a spot on a mirror.
The smile Saville gave was totally irresistible. ‘You are behaving like a shrew. Into the carriage, Miss Seaton.’
She pushed her advantage a fraction when a burly manservant came in with a bucket of coal and began to place it, knob by knob, on the glowing embers. She hadn’t noticed that the servants worked so late, before. ‘I’d prefer it if the request was couched more politely.’
‘Would you, by God!’ he roared, making her jump from her skin. ‘And I would prefer it if you stopped trying to make me look a fool in front of my household staff.’ He stooped, and the next moment he had her dangling inelegantly over his shoulder.
The manservant rushed forward to open the door. His grin was a mile wide.
‘Thank you Mr Downey,’ Saville said, and strode down the steps towards the carriage with her hanging like a sack of turnips over his shoulder.
‘Yes, thank you, Mr Downey,’ she called out, grinning to herself when he drew in a sharp, exasperated breath.
She heard the servants laughing when he nodded pleasantly to the couple of onlookers lingering in the vicinity.
Depositing her gently on the seat, Saville sat opposite, his face a study of amusement.
‘Being manhandled is not funny,’ she threw at him.
‘No, I don’t suppose it is. Now we’ve resolved who exactly is in charge, can we behave like the civilized people we are for the rest of the evening.’
‘I certainly can. Can you?’
His eyes met hers. ‘As long as you don’t goad me into losing my temper, I can.’
‘Good,’ she said and smiled pleasantly at him. ‘Do you always lose it so easily, My Lord?’
‘No. Do you always have to have the last word?’
She sighed heavily. ‘I’ll allow you have it, if you insist. What is it?’
‘What is what?’
‘Your last word.’
Laughter huffed from him. ‘I’m sorry for my behavior,’ he said, which not only robbed her of breath, but reminded her of what had nearly occurred between them and the pleasure she’d experienced. Spreading her fan across her face she fanned her blushing cheeks.
The rest of the evening was without unpleasant incident, though it was fraught with danger.
Saville partnered her in a dance only once, but he watched her constantly. Graine knew he was sitting in judgment on her behavior, which made her edgy and stiff. Finally she approached him and, giving a sniff, said, ‘Do you have to watch me so?’
To her surprise, he laughed. ‘It’s not you I’m watching, but those who would acquaint themselves with you. You have been approached by two of the wealthiest rakes in Lond
on. Take great care, Miss Seaton.’
‘So far, the men who’ve approached me have been unmitigated bores. All they can talk about is themselves, and they credit me with no intelligence at all because I’m a woman.’
Then perhaps I should tell them to watch out for you, because you are as tricky as a monkey.’
‘And you’re as grumpy as a pack of wolves suffering from toothache.’ She rumbled a snarl at him. ‘I am bored with your snapping, and would be greatly obliged if you’d hide your fangs and behave like a human being again, My Lord.’He chuckled. ‘Take a turn around the room with me, My Eve. I promise not to maul you again tonight, if you promise not to do the same to me.’ Their eyes met for a moment and the smile he offered her sent delicious shivers along her nerves. ‘What will you do when your sister weds?’
‘I have not given serious thought to my future. Perhaps I will use my skills to help the poor. I can teach children or tend to their complaints.’
Saville’s thumb grazed across her wrist. ‘No doubt, you are capable, but the poor cannot afford to pay for such services.’
‘Have you forgotten that I shall have means?’ she reminded him.
‘But not enough means to squander on others. It will come in the form of an allowance so the capital can be preserved. From it, you will have to pay your servants and accommodation.’
‘My needs are few, and I shall need no servants.’
He gave her a sideways glance. ‘Did you know that Evelyn has resolved not to wed John until you are settled yourself.’
‘Dismayed, she gazed at him. ‘But I’ve decided never to wed.’
His eyes hooded and his expression begged her to explain herself. ‘Never?’
She couldn’t tell him the reason why––that she loved him and would have no other. ‘I have no wish to wed,’ she mumbled. ‘I will devote my life to good works,’
‘You intend to martyr yourself? My dear Miss Seaton, how very touching and noble of you, when there are bound to be offers for your hand. Everyone is curious about you.’
‘So I notice,’ she snapped. ‘Unfortunately, they seem to have gained a false impression of me if they think I’m your … ’
‘Mistress,’ he suggested, and chuckled. ‘Now, I wonder what gave them that idea, when a man’s mistress is usually kept in separate accommodations.’
‘Oh?’ The question formed tantalizingly on her tongue and quivered there. Curiosity ate at her, so she tingled and throbbed with it. How hateful of him to fill her with such jealous angst, especially when his smile invited her comment.
Her teeth worried at her bottom lip for a moment, then she sighed, and returned his smile with a brilliant one of her own. She wouldn’t oblige him because she didn’t want to hear his answer.
‘Tell me what Rushford is like in the autumn. I have heard the leaves on the trees turn red, yellow and brown in September, so it seems as if the foliage is aflame. Does that occur at Rushford?’
Rushford, he thought, and it filled his mind with a roar of longing. The place was his haven. There, he was away from the cut and thrust of London social life. Many of his associates were absent from their country estates for most of the year, but he loved to be there, and even a few short weeks absence was too long.
He drew her into a seat in an alcove and told her about it, embroidering the soft warmth of autumn as Rushford fruited magically in his memory, for her.
She listened intently as he rambled on, his place in Rushford’s future made clear as a custodian of the land for future generations. Finally, he ground to a halt, acutely aware that he may have bored her. He shrugged. ‘You would like Rushford in autumn.’
‘You make it sound so comfortable, as if it was part of your heart.’
‘And my blood and my bone,’ he said simply. But she was right, it was his heart too, the seasons turning as he aged, and would be turning long after he was gone––long after his children had gone, and his children’s children.
‘Perhaps we should find some refreshment,’ he said, and with an effort, placed the getting of that future generation firmly from his mind.
* * * *
Harriet Lamartine was nothing, if determine. Now she was settled in her own establishment she could go about her mischief, unchecked. Seething with self-righteous indignation, and acting on the advice of her new acquaintances, she summoned a mystic to read her fortune. She intended to ask her for a charm, in case she needed to put a curse on her enemies.
The woman was a novelty in herself, a lady of mixed blood called Eliza Jones, whose arms and ears jangled with gold ornaments. Under an all encompassing cloak and hood she wore a turban and gown of brightly exotic orange and turquoise silk.
The two spaniels leapt down from the cushions and scrabbled at the door to be let out when she arrived. They took off up the hall, yelping, and with their tails between their legs.
Opening a drawstring bag Eliza shook out the contents. The five bones clattered as they spun on the polished surface of the table. Harriet drew back when they stopped. Three of them were pointing at her, one to the side. They were lying over the remaining one.
‘These three are the men in your life,’ the woman said, her voice low and husky. She drew one forth. ‘This is your son. Why does he hide from you? He’s of scholarly disposition, but that’s not the reason he conceals himself. He seeks the solace of his own thoughts, and needs peace. Soon he will wed, and where you have failed, his wife will succeed. She will draw him from his solitude and give him several fine children. Beware in your dealings, for the woman will usurp you his affections. This has already started.’
Eliza smiled when Harriet gasped, and her finger slid another bone towards her. ‘This man has great power and was once close to you, but it was not by choice. I see a girl with him who is closely related. Your jealousy of this man’s wealth and position over your son caused you to be cruel to him as a youth.’
Harriet remembered the times she’d locked Saville in a cupboard for days on end, of how she’d slapped and pinched him, or sent him to bed without his supper for the smallest transgression. He’d nearly died once. She’d left him outside in the rain in the middle of winter and he’d caught an infection in his lungs. If he’d died, then her own son would now be the Earl of Sedgely. She shuddered. It had not been her intention to kill him, of course. She looked up to find the woman’s eyes gazing slyly at her.
‘I did not mean to be cruel.’
Eliza pushed the third bone forward. ‘This is a man with no conscience. Beware, he will flatter and charm you, and then will use you for his own ends. Think carefully when he appears.’
‘Mumbo jumbo,’ Harriet snorted.
Eliza gazed into her eyes. ‘Lady, you have the power to cause good, or great harm to those close to you.’
A smug smile settled on Harriet’s lips and her eyes narrowed. ‘I have always known that.’
The woman slid the fourth bone forward. ‘This is your late husband, who turned away from you. He had a mistress named Catherine Prichard. They had a baby daughter. When he died the woman came to you for help. They were starving. You turned them from your door and the pair perished.’
Harriet’s mouth suddenly went dry. ‘Be gone; I will hear no more,’ she whispered.
‘Yes you will, Lady,’ and the woman’s eyes were liquid and penetrating as she touched the last bone. ‘This is a young woman, a pivot around whom all the living others revolve. Her life has been hard, but what she has given to others she stands to receive two-fold. She is beloved of the myla, so is protected by the forces of life.’
‘Graine Seaton,’ Harriet hissed, her anger bringing her out of her trance. I will hear no more, and don’t think I’ll pay you. You’re a fake.’
The woman’s dark finger stirred gently at the bones. ‘What do you see?’
Harriet couldn’t stop herself from glancing down at the bones. In their place was a mass of writhing snakes. She opened her mouth to scream but couldn’t utter a sound.
&n
bsp; ‘Heed that which I told you,’ Eliza said, and held out her hand.
Delving into her pocket, Harriet hurriedly took out a gold piece and dropped it into her palm. The woman placed a small linen pouch in its place. ‘A charm,’ she said.
A beam of sunlight came through the window and the snakes became bones again. Eliza slid them into the bag. ‘Thank you, Madam,’ she said respectfully, I trust you will recommend me to your friends.’
There was an unpleasant sensation inside Harriet as she let the woman out, but she couldn’t think why. ‘Mumbo jumbo’ she muttered to herself.
Then she remembered the charm and opened her palm. Holding it to her nose she recoiled. It stank. She dropped it on to a table containing a plant and promptly forgot about it.
Chapter Thirteen
Since the ball, it seemed as if Graine ran into Saville everywhere. If she went by carriage with Evelyn to take the air in Hyde Park, Saville would ride past and nod to them.
When John Lamartine reluctantly took them to the Vauxhall pleasure gardens, Saville appeared, joining them in time to listen to the band and buy them refreshments. The place fascinated Graine. It was a whirl of color, music and laughter. There were secluded arbors where lovers met, mummers and magician to watch, and sweetmeats to try.
One of a party who had gone to watch the latest offering at the playhouse, Graine discovered Saville sitting behind her when she turned her head. After that, she could not concentrate on the play.
He attended the dinner held by Charlotte and her husband. Seated opposite one another, they couldn’t ignore the other’s existence. On that occasion, she had a gentleman seated at either side of her, both who proved to be charming companions.
Apart from being politely sociable, Saville paid her scant attention, but she noticed his eyes had a way of narrowing when she laughed at some witticism, or hid her blushing face behind her fan when paid a compliment.
‘Were you looking for this?’ he remarked, when she found herself accidentally alone with him after she returned to the table. He held the flimsy piece of silk and lace between his finger and thumb and regarded her blandly. ‘Congratulations, Miss Seaton, you’re fast becoming the toast of London.’