by Em Taylor
“I think the light of dawn somewhat reminds me that this is wholly inappropriate.”
“Mayhap, but sometimes inappropriate is just what we need. And I have thoroughly enjoyed what we have shared. Did you sleep well?”
“I did. Thank you. I should go back to my room.”
“Did you draw the curtains around your bed like I suggested?”
“Yes.”
“Then let us draw the curtains here and the maid who cleans the grate and sets the fire will be none the wiser that you are here.”
He drew the curtains and eased into the dark recess with her, drawing her to him as he lay down. He would work something out. He would get the truth about her and her relationship to Eleanor somehow. He needed stronger evidence than some lines on her belly.
She was lying with her head atop his chest, her body flush against his side and he was so close to sleep.
“Robbie, are you awake?” He should say yes, but he was so sleepy. He tried to turn his head to nuzzle her hair. But she really had exhausted him. It did not matter he supposed. Whatever it was she could tell him later. “Oh well. Never mind then. I only wanted to say I am sorry I cannot marry. So very sorry. Not just for you. Are you really so addle-pated that you cannot see that if things were different I would marry you in a heartbeat? You silly man. I love you. But it is better you are addle-pated I suppose. It is better that only one of our hearts are broken when this charade is over.”
Well that fixed his tiredness. He was not at all sleepy now. Damned woman. Why did she have to go and declare her love for him now—before he had sorted things out with regards to her possibly being Eleanor’s mother. Good grief, why had his life turned into a Drury Lane farce?
She was sobbing quietly against his chest. This would not do.
“Lucy, darling. Are you well?”
“I am fine,” she sobbed.
“Forgive me, love but you sound far from fine. Did I hurt you when we made love?”
He knew fine that he had not hurt her. She cried his name in ecstasy several times and he had the scratch marks on his back to prove she had enjoyed every second.
“N-n-no. I am just… I think I am just overwhelmed and being silly.”
She ran her hand down his chest and stomach as he played with her hair, wondering how to improve her mood. When her fingers curled around his flaccid prick, it almost instantly started to harden.
“Lucy, what are you doing?” But she was burrowing under the covers and her mouth was around his growing erection before he could stop her.
“Shh!” she said as her mouth reached the top of his aching cock before plunging back on and making him even harder. He bucked his hips.
“I am going to hell or Bedlam or both for allowing this,” he murmured to himself. But Lucy was an adult. He had not begged or pleaded or coerced. In fact, she had all but forced herself on him. Of course, he could have easily stopped her. But he had no desire to do so.
He lay back against his pillows and enjoyed the sensations she wrung from him and could only hope the maid who set the fires would be late that morning.
Chapter 20
Robert watched his man of business ride off down the private road. He had already rung the bell and asked them to summon Lucy to his office. Some of the boys were out with the gardener learning the trade. It was a good idea. There was a shortage of good gardeners, especially in town. Perhaps they could find the older boys some employment in London or Leeds or York.
A light knock on the door made him turn and summon her in.
Lucy looked the picture of innocence in her white muslin gown. No one would believe she was the instigator the previous morning. The one who had moved down his body to take his prick in her mouth and suck him until he found oblivion. Devil take it, he was getting hard just thinking about it. And she was biting the lower of those plush lips right now.
“You wanted to see me, My Lord.” She curtseyed, and he waved away the gesture. He had left her alone last night to recover from his attentions but now he wanted her with everything he had.
“Yes, I have your money for you. Can I ask why you want it?”
“I shall pay you back.”
“That is not what I asked.”
“I am a grown woman.”
“I am well aware. Please stop hovering at the door and come here. And lock the damned door.”
“There is no need to curse like a sailor, My Lord.”
She walked over and he pulled her against him and spoke in her ear.
“There is no need to talk like you hardly know me and have not had my prick in your mouth… twice.”
“My Lord!”
“God damn it Lucy. Stop driving me insane with your titles and your prissy behaviour one minute, then the next minute bringing me to a mind-blowing orgasm with your mouth. Tell me something, if I were to make love to you now, would you refuse me?”
Lucy licked her lips and then slowly—oh so slowly, shook her head.
He kissed her neck and shoulder and enjoyed the feel of her shuddering in his arms.
“Would you want to tell me to stop?”
“No. But Robbie…”
“Mmm?”
He was lifting her gown and under skirts. He wanted to feel if she was wet. This was going to be hard and fast. She needed to know the affect she had on him. She had to know that just her mere presence turned his prick to stone.
“It is daytime.”
“I can do this quickly.”
“Shall it not hurt if you do it quickly?”
“Turn, put your hands on the desk.”
She did as she was told, and he lifted her skirts up her back. Sliding his hand around to her front, he slid his fingers into her folds. She rocked immediately against them, her wetness easing his way.
“You are already aroused. Were you aroused at the thought of coming to see me, my love?”
“I…” He unbuttoned the fall of his breeches with his freehand and released his prick. When he bent it forward and pressed it between her thighs so it rubbed against her folds, they groaned in unison.
“I was aroused at the thought of seeing you,” he admitted. “Then when you stood in the doorway, biting your lip, looking all innocent and seductive, I swear I nearly released in my breeches. Lean forward love. I shall test you with my fingers and see if you are ready. You feel ready.” She did. He had no doubts she was ready, but he wanted to reassure her. As he moved the hand that was toying with her pearl back around her body, a piece of paper fluttered to the floor. It must have fallen from the pocket of her gown. He would remember to give it to her later. For now, he had other things to concern himself with. Like her warm, welcoming channel which would fit his prick just perfectly. He pressed one then two fingers inside and she started to move. Robert chuckled.
“Not so quickly my love. You are not to have my fingers today. He withdrew the digits, gave them a quick suck then positioned his cock at her entrance. “Ready?”
“Please, Robert.”
He obliged, sliding home without any problems.
Robert slid his hand back round to massage her pearl. He would make certain she found her peak before he did. He marvelled as she widened her stance and rose on tiptoe to meet him. She was naturally sensual—naturally able to read her own body and work out how to find her pleasure. A perfect complement to him. He was deeper inside her as he slid his second hand onto her breast. Even through layers of clothing, he could feel the tight bud of her nipple. He stepped up the pace.
“Oh Robbie. That’s so good. Ple-e-e-ease.”
He leaned over and lifted her up into almost a standing position. The angle was exquisite. He groaned into her ear.
“Come off for me, my darling. Let go.” She placed her hand over his, causing him to press hard on her pearl as she writhed in his embrace. She was beautiful, with her hair falling out of the knot at the nape of her neck, her skin glistening with perspiration and her breasts heaving with exertion and desire.
As h
er internal muscles began to pulse around his cock, a familiar tingle in his spine told him he had to leave her body now or suffer the dire consequences. He withdrew, almost dropping her onto the desk. As he spent himself on her soft, white arse, he ground his teeth, as much in irritation at himself for his almost loss of control as with the pleasure wrung out of him by the woman flopped on the desk.
“Christ, Lucy, I am sorry. I… it happened so suddenly and I had to withdraw. We would not want any consequences.”
Lucy seemed to bristle. As she flipped her skirt down over the evidence of their coupling and her pretty bare backside. As she turned and started to straighten her hair she gave him a look that was unreadable.
“No, My Lord. We would not want consequences.”
What the devil did that mean?
“Lucy, you have not agreed to marry me yet.”
“No, My Lord, and I never shall.”
“But…”
“I shall need the money on May Day.”
“The day of the festival.”
“Indeed.”
After rebuttoning the fall of his breeches, he walked around to his own side of his desk and ran his hand through his hair. He would never understand women. She’d been begging him to make her come off just seconds ago, then he’d made an innocuous point which he was sure she would agree with were she being rational, and now, somehow, he had managed to offend her.
“Fine. It shall be ready for this secret project. I hope you are not doing anything illegal, Lucy. You would come to me if you were in trouble, would you not?”
She stiffened, and her jaw seemed to harden slightly as if she were being very determined.
“No, My Lord. I am not in trouble. I am a single lady who must fend for herself. I do not need a gentleman to deal with things for me.”
She turned on her heel and marched out of the room and he wished he could keep his mouth shut. But he could not help it. Just as she opened the door the words came flying out of his mouth as if on wings “Unless you need money. You cannot hold your own bank account, Miss Butterworth. It seems you need me for money.”
Her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. All he saw was a fluttering of muslin and all he heard was a loud bang.
“Shut the door on your way out, Miss Butterworth, if you do not mind, that is,” he said into the quiet room.
Damn, he thought he may have upset her.
Chapter 21
She avoided him the rest of the day and evening. The children made an excellent excuse. She had to take two of the boys into the village for new boots. When she got back, there had been an incident.
Tommy had got upset about something. One of the other boys had called him names. Since the incident with Miss Davis, Tommy had been somewhat on edge. Of course, the child had just recently lost his mother and was grief stricken. Lucy knew this and was taking it into consideration. But running through a flower bed and damaging all the flowers in his upset at being called a name was not appropriate behaviour. It had taken her and two of the older boys two hours to find Tommy. Eventually she found him hiding behind an old shed in the orchard.
She approached him cautiously, worried he might run away. She could run fast enough, but with skirts hampering her, she was sure a boy could easily outrun her.
“Tommy, I hear there has been a problem today.”
“I never done it, Miss Butterworth.”
“You never done what? I mean did not do what?”
The child frowned at her and folded his arms. “Wotever they says I done.”
“I was told a couple of the boys called you names.”
He nodded.
“That was not nice of them. They are helping to clean out the stables tonight and tomorrow night because of their behaviour.”
Tommy’s scowl turned into a grin—a grin of pure malice.
“They deserve it. They was not nice.”
“No, they were not. However…” Tommy’s gaze turned wary. “You did some damage to the flower bed.”
“I were upset.”
Lucy sighed and leaned over, removed his cap and ruffled his hair. “I know you were, Tommy but you cannot just vandalise the property of Lord Whitsnow. The gardener put a lot of work into that flower bed.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“Well, young man, you will have plenty of time to think. Tomorrow morning at seven o’clock, you will be out of your bed and helping the gardener put right the flower bed and you will be doing any other tasks he needs to be done. You will be working for him for the next seven days. Do I make myself clear?”
Tommy gave a big weary sigh. “Do I ‘ave to?”
“Yes, you do. Unless you prefer cleaning out the stables. I could make that a fortnight.”
Tommy pouted. “Aye, fine.”
“Do not pout at me Tommy Baird. You are a lucky young man. Others would have been whipped for that sort of behaviour.”
He nodded and got to his feet. “I suppose I’m not getting supper.”
“You suppose wrong. You had better hurry because it shall soon be over.”
Lucy ate dinner in the nursery that evening, passing on her apologies that she would not be down for dinner. After seeing the children to bed, she went to her room and tried to read. She was unable to concentrate but she kept trying until around ten o’clock when she gave up and changed into her night rail.
A little later a knock came at her bedchamber door. It could not be Lord Whitsnow. He would knock at the adjoining door so she got up to answer it.
To her surprise, as handsome as ever and carrying a carafe of wine and two glasses, was Lord Whitsnow.
“May I come in?”
“Why are you using this door?”
He looked up and down the corridor. “Just let me in, please.”
She opened the door to allow him entry.
“Would you have answered if I had come to the adjoining door?”
“Probably not.”
“Well then. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I am not.”
“You are a dreadful liar, Lucy. Wine?”
She nodded. She may as well. “What do you want, Robert?”
“Robert now, is it. Not Robbie, Not ‘My Lord?’ Your moods are so hard to read, Miss, Butterworth, or is it Lucy, or my love?”
“Robert!”
“What did I say to upset you? Do you want to have my child?”
“No.”
“Then I do not understand.”
“There is nothing to understand. Please do not think I am upset.”
“Are you upset that I released on your skin?”
“No. Robert, I am not upset. I just think it best that we do not share any further intimacies.”
“Why. Are you not attracted to me? Not aroused by me? You felt like you were aroused earlier. Very aroused.”
“You know that is not the case. Please Robert.”
“Last time you said that, it was because you wanted me to fuck you harder and faster.”
“Robert!” She could not believe he had used such a word in front of her. She was aware her voice was almost a shriek.
He ran a hand through his hair and scowled belligerently at her. He reminded her of Tommy earlier that day. It seemed some men never stopped being boys. “You drive me to it. You make me insane with need then you say, “Oh we shan’t do it again.” As if I can just stop being aroused every time I see you. Snuff out the feeling as one snuffs out a candle.” He waved a hand dismissively then as if he could not bear to discuss the matter further. Then he drained his glass and refilled it. “I hear there was an incident with one of your miscreants today.”
“He is not a miscreant. He is a boy. A very unhappy little boy who only recently lost his mother. And yes, he has ruined one of your flowerbeds, My Lord.”
“Oh God, we’re back to My Lord. I hope you tanned his hide for him.”
“Indeed I did not. I do not believe in corporal punishment.”
“Never did me any harm,�
� muttered Robert.
“That is a matter of opinion, My Lord.”
Robert lowered his glass from which he had been about to take a hearty swig.
“What the devil is that supposed to mean.”
“Whatever you wish it to mean, My Lord.”
“Stop talking in riddles and stop bloody My Lording me.”
“You are a belligerent drunk, Robert, I should like you to leave.”
“I am not bloody drunk. I am just… damned annoyed.”
“You were horrible to your sister when she was growing up. Heaven knows what would have become of her if she had not met that lovely Lord Beattie.”
“Beattie’s an arse, but he is good to Em so he’s a decent arse,” Robert mused.
“You are rude and have a sense of entitlement.”
“I’m an earl. I am entitled. Do you not understand how the aristocracy works?”
Lucy sighed. “It is a mystery how you can be so nice one minute and such… such…”
“An arse?” Robert supplied.
“Yes, an arse the next.”
“Hmm, yes.”
“Robert, how much have you had to drink.”
“Oh, some wine at dinner, some port after and a few brandies before. I had the brandy because I missed you. I missed that little girl too. Eleanor. Where is she.”
“In bed.”
“Does she still like music?”
“Yes.”
“You like music, do you not?”
“I do, very much so.”
“Hmm, Eleanor must take her love of music from you, even though she cannot hear.”
Lucy stilled for a moment. He was drunk. He was talking nonsense. He had not suspected. He meant she had learned her love of music from Lucy.
“Maybe,” Lucy said quietly.
“Pretty little thing. All that red hair.” He looked at her then and blew out a breath. “What was I saying.”
“I think you were saying you were going to go to your bedchamber,” she said tartly.
“Yes. Take me to your bed, fair Lucy.”
“No, you go to your bed and I shall go to mine.”
“I prefer yours. It is closer. He rose and started to unbutton the fall of his breeches.
“What are you doing, My Lord?”