by Dayna Quince
She found her way to the village on her own, the steeple of the church rising above the hills and trees, serving as a beacon. She entered the village proper among curious stares. The village was quaint, children playing in the streets, shops busy with local life. They greeted her as she drew close. Hazel dismounted in front of the inn, as did the groom. He took her reins. “I’m going to have a bite to eat inside.” She would know if she could trust him if that bit of information returned to her through Mrs. Danford.
Hazel entered, wide stares quickly melting into bland expressions and nods of recognition of her status. She had the attention of the man behind the tap the moment she entered. She sat at a clean table and folded her hands in her lap. She had little company. One man sat at the bar top, another close to the hearth reading a paper. A woman bustled over and curtsied.
“How may I serve you this fine morning, my lady?” She beamed. She had frizzy red curls that threatened the bounds of the scarf tied tightly around her hair.
“What breakfast do you have to offer?”
“I can make ye eggs and bacon, a nice meat pie, or scones to go with a cup of tea.”
“Eggs and bacon, please and some tea.”
“Right away, my lady.”
Hazel had her side to the door, but she noticed when her groom entered and approached the tap. She frowned. Was he going to have a pint while he waited for her? He whispered to the innkeeper, who disappeared into the kitchen. The groom then took a stool at the bar. Hazel stared down at her hands until she felt the presence of someone standing beside her table.
“I beg ye pardon, my lady?”
Hazel looked up in surprise. He set her cup of tea before her.
“It’s an honor to have you in our little inn, The Shepherd. My name‘s Mr. Earnest. We heard there was going to be a new countess and you’re a welcome site to the village.”
“Why, thank you.” Hazel was humbled.
The woman, who Hazel assumed was his wife, approached with a tray of food. She set it down before Hazel. “Tis a pleasure to serve you, Lady Bainbridge.”
“Thank you,” Hazel said.
“My name is Betty.” Betty curtsied again and then she and her husband left her to eat.
Hazel enjoyed every bite of her breakfast, feeling herself again and not an escaped prisoner. After finishing her meal, she bid good day to Mr. and Mrs. Earnest and decided to walk about the village. It wasn’t very large, being on the outskirts of the much larger city of Oxford.
Matthew followed her out and trailed her at a respectable distance. Hazel wandered from shop to shop, greeting the owners and introducing herself. She hadn’t brought much pin money with her but was determined to patron some of the shops. She found herself browsing ribbons and bonnets. She bought a lovely yellow ribbon. It was shiny and vibrant. She thanked the owner and returned to the street. As she stepped out, she froze. Matthew ran right into the back of her.
“Ouf! Forgive me, ma’am.”
Hazel pushed him back into the shop and she peered out the window.
“Is something amiss?” The owner hurried to her side with concern.
“What? Oh, no… that is…”Hazel stumbled over what to say.
Mrs. Danford was being driven in an open carriage. Had she come looking for her? She appeared to be scanning the street.
“Where are the horses, Mr. Matthew?”
“Mr. Earnest’s boy, Ned, stabled them behind the Inn.”
“Good.” Hazel thought of her options. It wouldn’t be good for the locals to think she was terrified of Mrs. Danford. She would have to face the woman, but she was half afraid they might cause a spectacle in the street. Hazel couldn’t be sure what Mrs. Danford was doing or what she would say. Hazel sighed. She would have to go out there. She could see the gaze of the shop owner darting back and forth between her and Mrs. Danford’s passing carriage. She could see the cogs turning in his mind, questions being formed, plausible speculations.
“She won’t like my being out without a maid. She is a motherly sort, you know.”
The shop owner, Mr. Taft, nodded noncommittally. “There is an alley that runs along the back of all the shops. You may follow it up to the Inn if you don’t wish to be seen, but you will have to cross back to the Inn.
“Oh, no. I don’t mean to hide from Mrs. Danford.”
Mr. Taft back peddled. “Of course not, my lady.”
The carriage passed and continued on down the road. Hazel scrambled for ideas. Should she exit now and hope they weren’t seen?
“If you are in a great rush to return to Bainbridge Hall, my lady. Using the back alley to return to the Inn stable would afford you a quicker means of travel than walking the street where you may be pressed to speak with other villagers.”
Hazel turned to Mr. Taft. Was it possible he understood and could be an ally?
“Yes, Mr. Taft. That would be acceptable.”
He led them to the rear of the shop.
Hazel thanked him, and they shared a glance that spoke a number of unsaid things. Hazel hurried down the alley at a respectable pace with Matthew on her heels. She was tempted to ask him so many questions. They paused at the end of the alley.
“Would you like me to get the horses saddled and bring them here?”
Hazel peeked around the corner of the blacksmiths shop. Mrs. Danford was still at the far end of the street. “No, I will meet you at the Inn, but do go on ahead so that we may return quickly.
“Yes, ma’am.”
The groom darted across the street. Hazel followed at a leisurely pace, frequently glancing down the street. Mrs. Danford was talking to Mrs. Whipple, the owner of the bakery.
Hazel released her breath as she entered the Inn courtyard. She waited by the block until Matthew brought the horses around and mounted.
“Ma’am, there is a quicker way back to the Hall, if you wish it.”
“Yes, let’s take a scenic route back.”
Matthew nodded and Hazel followed him out of the courtyard and off the main road. They disappeared into the thick forest behind the Inn.
Garrett was whistling as he rode into the stable. There was fervent whispering as he entered that suspiciously stopped when he was sighted. Granby, the stable master, approached and took Garrett’s reins.
Garrett dismounted. “Afternoon, Granby.”
“Afternoon, sir.”
Garrett quickly scanned the surroundings. Hazel’s horse was presently being brushed down. Had she been riding? He was pleased to see it. He wanted her to feel at home, and he knew she was an accomplished rider. “I see Lady Bainbridge has been riding this afternoon.”
“That she has, sir. Returned not long ago. Matthew escorted her about the land and into the village proper.”
“Excellent.”
“And Mrs. Danford, sir, has just returned in the open carriage.”
“Mmhmm.” Garrett took a closer look at Hazel’s horse. She was superb. He was only half listening to Granby now.
“It seems Mrs. Danford had some concerns about Lady Bainbridge being lost in the wilderness.”
Garrett swung his attention back to Granby. “Lost in the wilderness? In Oxfordshire?”
“Her words, sir.”
Garrett chuckled. “I see.”
“She took off in a panic to look for her.”
This made Garrett frown. “She did? Despite Lady Bainbridge having a capable escort?”
“I tried to tell her, but she was certain.”
“I see.” Garrett sighed. He could enter the back of the house and avoid his aunt for a short while, or face the situation head on. Garrett went to the front of the house and entered.
“Please summon Lady Bainbridge to my parlor,” his aunt was saying as she handed her cloak to Quinn.
“Yes, ma’am.” Quinn departed.
“Aunt? Is something wrong?”
His aunt spun around with her hand to her heart. “Oh, Bain. I didn’t see you there.”
“Granby said you thou
ght Hazel was lost?”
“The stable master?”
“Hazel is an experienced rider and all the grooms hail from the village. She couldn’t get lost in these parts if she tried,” Garrett went on. He wanted to get this over with and upstairs to his wife whom he hoped to find naked in the tub.
“I am only worried for her safety.” Mrs. Danford turned away.
Garrett followed her up the stairs and into the small parlor she had made use of. “I’m so happy you care for her, but you shouldn’t worry so. Hazel is a modern young woman. She can ride, shoot, and manage well enough on her own.”
“A countess shouldn’t do such things. I wouldn’t have known she left if Emily hadn’t told me.”
He heard her grumble. He wondered where she got such ideas. “Hazel is exploring her new home. It’s important she do so.”
His aunt didn’t look pacified.
“I was summoned?”
Garrett turned to find Hazel in the doorway. He couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. She was still in her riding habit, cheeks rosy, and hair slipping from its pins. He wanted to ravish her on the spot. She caught sight of him and grinned.
His aunt’s voice was like a splash of cold water.
“Lady Hazel, I was only concerned about your whereabouts, but Bain prefers I felt otherwise. I shall keep my feelings to myself on the matter.”
Garrett wanted to groan. He hated the way his aunt called him Bain. Bain was his father. Garrett preferred Bainbridge, or from Hazel’s lips, Garrett. He could tell by his aunt’s tone that she was agitated. He wanted nothing to do with it.
“Lady Bainbridge, I will discuss the matter with you privately. Let’s adjourn to my study,” he said with mock sternness.
“If that is what you wish, Bain,” his aunt said shrilly.
Hazel’s eyes widened. He took her by the arm. He nodded to his aunt and pulled Hazel into the hall. Once out of sight, he folded her hand in his and leaned close to her ear.
“I’ve been told you’ve been very bad.”
She giggled. He tugged her down the hall to the back stairs. He bypassed his study and took her straight to their room where privacy was guaranteed.
“I wasn’t aware I’m not supposed to leave the house.” She pushed him into the room and shoved the door closed. Garrett lifted her up against him and walked to the bed. He set her down and began to undo her heavy skirt. “I should tie you to the bed and never let you leave. You will await me here naked all day and night.”
She smiled saucily. “Is that supposed to be threatening?”
“No. I will worship you like an altar to my chosen goddess.”
“That sounds divine.” She sighed. Her skirts dropped to the floor and she stepped out of them. He started on her jacket and then her shirt.
“Is this my punishment?” She raised a brow as he finished divesting her of all her clothing and lifted her up onto the bed.
“It’s your reward.” He lifted one leg and put her ankle on his shoulder.
“Oh?” Exposed in a way she’d never been before, Hazel fought the urge to shield herself from his hungry gaze, but she held herself still.
“Yes.” He kissed her ankle, his tongue darting into the indent underneath her ankle bone.
Hazel bit her lip. It tickled, but it also sent little lightning bolts of fire down her leg and to her core where her body was melting. She swallowed.
“How do you intend to worship me?”
He smiled wickedly. She’d never seen him smile that way before.
“With my lips, with my tongue, with my hands, and with my… body.”
Hazel was aware of the hot flush that spread over her skin. He was too. There was no way to hide it, naked as she was before him. She felt more like a feast for him rather than an altar of worship. He began a trail of licks and kisses down her leg. His mouth was hot, but the damp mark he left quickly cooled. She fought the urge to shiver—not from being cold, but from the winding tension of her nerves. He reached her knee, bringing his elbows to the bed as he moved to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.
Hazel was aware of her rapid breathing. Her fingers curled against the coverlet. She watched his progress as he moved lower and lower, fighting the urge to scream with anticipation. She couldn’t look anymore as he reached her apex and licked his lips. Her eyes shot to the canopy above.
“Oh, dear.” She sighed as he kissed her softly in a place she could never imagine.
She felt him chuckling, and then his wicked tongue licked her delicate flesh. Her legs began to shake. She was holding them open tensely.
“Relax,” he bid. He pushed them open wider, bringing her heels up so she was splayed open like the wings of a butterfly.
Hazel couldn’t believe she was allowing this, but it felt so startlingly wonderful and naughty. Surely normal married couples didn’t do this?
Curious, she lifted her head and glanced. All she could see was the top of his head, nestled between her thighs. She put her head down again. He was touching her too, his fingers gently exploring her inner folds.
She relaxed somewhat, the tingles of pleasure radiating from her core. His finger entered her, first one, and then another and Hazel arched to accept them. This she liked. His lips and tongue were at it again, teasing that part of her she’d only just discovered. The feeling was intense, an arcing, flaring pleasure that made her fidget and tense. She jerked as he took the sensitive pearl into his mouth and sucked.
“Oh!” she cried suddenly, abruptly finding herself on the precipice of completion.
He kept going, his movements with his fingers becoming insistent, his tongue a bold explorer.
She was quickly coming apart at the seams, losing her composure to her body’s need to be fulfilled.
“Garrett!” she cried. She didn’t want it to be like this. As much as she loved this new and exciting form of lovemaking, she wanted to be with him, she wanted to feel his heart beating next to hers.
“Please. I want you,” she moaned.
He must have understood because, almost immediately, he was there, pulling her hips to the edge of the bed and pulling himself free of his trousers. He entered her slowly.
Hazel moaned as he did, welcoming him. But she wanted to be closer. She pushed herself up to her elbows and reached for him. He pulled her up, hugging her to him and thrusting into her.
Hazel clung to him. The bed supported her bottom, but she had no leverage. She was completely at the mercy of her body. She wrapped her legs around him, putting one arm around his neck and one on the bed to lift herself. Now she could move. She was already on the brink and now reaching completion. She cried into his shoulder, her arm shaking under her weight. He followed her, thrusting one last time, leaning over the bed with her in his arms. They stayed like that for a moment, just breathing together.
Garrett moved first, a sudden drowsiness overtaking him. He stood and righted his clothing. He brought Hazel her clothing and helped her dress.
“What will you say if your aunt asks about your dealing with me?”
Garrett pressed his forehead to hers. “That I gave you a very stern lecturing.”
“And if I don’t listen and go riding again?” Hazel smiled wryly.
“Then I will have to lecture you again. I’m looking forward to it.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. He kissed her softly.
“I’m glad you came home early,” Hazel said when he pulled back.
“As am I, but I could use a nap before dinner. Would you care to join me?”
“I would love to, but first, let me change.”
“Of course.” Garrett changed his clothing as well and took a quick basin bath. He climbed onto the bed, folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes while he waited for his wife to return.
Wife.
He loved the word. Why did men fear the state of marriage? Perhaps because they didn’t have wives like Hazel. Vivacious, adoring Hazel. The very sight of her war
med his blood, the smell of her intoxicated him, and the feel of her soft, supple skin under his hands rendered him speechless at times. He could marvel at her naked body for hours, tracing her every curve and dip with his hands, losing himself in a sea of desire.
His wife returned in a sheer silk nightgown and joined him on the bed. She snuggled in beside him, and he breathed in the scent of her hair, a bit of lemon, a bit of lavender. There was nowhere on earth he would rather be this moment.
Chapter 9
It was Sunday morning, and before the sun had dared to breach the mountains, there was a knock on their door.
It was Smith.
Garrett scowled as he untangled himself from Hazel and yanked on his robe to answer the door.
Smith barely made eye contact, his gaze darting down the dark hall toward the servant stair. He looked agitated and aggrieved to be bothering Garrett so early.
“What is it, Smith? Something amiss?”
“Your aunt wishes you to attend church with her this morning.”
“My aunt goes to church?”
Smith was irritated enough to let it show. A telling sign.
“As of this morning, it is her prerogative that you three attend church as a family. At least, that is how her maid put it as she tore me from my sleep with her screeching.”
“I see.” Garrett considered his options. He decided to investigate the matter himself. “Return to bed, Smith. I will summon you if needed.”
“As if I could, sir,” Smith grumbled as he turned away.
Hazel was still asleep, so Garrett tossed on his breeches, tightened his robe and went in search of his aunt. He found her in her chamber, sipping tea at her vanity.
“Bain?” She seemed entirely surprised to see him awake as if he hadn’t been summoned in the first place.
“Church?” He raised a brow.
“Oh, yes that.” She slowly raised her cup and took a sip. Garrett waited with thinning patience.