by Jasmine Hill
George Dawson narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize that the two of you share a history.”
“Just the history of childhood friends, Dawson,” William responded mildly. “And the mutual respect that situation often engenders.”
He was not about to discuss his private life with the likes of George Dawson. While he had nothing against the man, he didn’t class him as a close friend and he had a feeling that Dawson wouldn’t like the fact that he considered Lillian to be much more than just his governess. Thinking of Lillian made him glance around for her. What is taking her so long?
He hadn’t missed all the admiring looks that she’d been receiving since they’d arrived. He wasn’t surprised—she looked breathtaking. She was fresh and vibrant and she easily surpassed in loveliness all the women at the gathering. He looked up to where Miss Dawson sat by his side, dressed in pale pink. She looked very pretty and could be quite charming, but in his eyes, she lacked the exquisite beauty and clever wit of Lillian.
Miss Dawson, seeing his eyes on her, grinned coquettishly and fluttered her fan as he smiled at her absently.
“Cartwright,” George Dawson interrupted his reverie.
William looked in the man’s direction to see him smile smugly.
“Sorry to interfere with your perusal of my daughter’s lovely countenance, but we would like to invite you to lunch next week. It’s been too long since we have spent some time together. We need to catch up.”
William nodded noncommittally. “Yes, it’s been a while. Lunch next week would be very nice, but I have to check my calendar. I expect a busy week on the property.”
Margaret Dawson giggled and slapped him on the arm playfully with her fan. “Oh, William. You have a manager and station hands who can run things for an afternoon.”
He nodded absently, not wanting to commit to anything specific. He was now quite concerned with Lillian’s continued absence and decided that it was time to go in search of her.
* * * *
Lillian found herself at the stables. The smell of hay and the rich scent of horses assaulted her senses and calmed her instantly. She’d always loved horses. She found them to be soothing and reassuring creatures that had the ability to tap into a person’s emotions and provide comfort when needed. As if to prove her philosophy, a mare pushed her head over a stable door into Lillian’s shoulder and snorted softly against her skin. Lillian smiled and reached up to stroke the animal’s nose.
She was enjoying the peace of the moment. She couldn’t quite believe how a perfect day had turned into a less than perfect one so quickly. She understood that she’d overreacted just now when she had seen that the Dawsons had joined their picnic, but she hadn’t been able to help herself. The feelings of isolation and loneliness had been overwhelming and had taken her straight back to her dark days in England. She needed to distance herself from the situation and gain some rational perspective. She had no right to act jealously or be irritated by William’s associations and she was appalled at her own behavior, but things had been moving so quickly between them that she was confused by their relationship and her own feelings. Seeing William again after so many years had thrown her into turmoil and resurrected all her feelings for him that for so long and so hard she’d tried to bury. Now she was not only faced with William and all the wondrous sensations he aroused in her, but also the women with whom he associated, who seemed to have hidden expectations and agendas. The whole situation was stirring her into a turbulent mass of emotions and she had to take a step back to evaluate. She was no longer the sixteen-year-old girl who had fallen head over heels in love with her childhood sweetheart. She’d experienced a lot since that time, much of which was difficult, but all of which had served to make her a stronger person. She needed to take that strength now and use it to defend herself against any additional, potentially hurtful situations.
Lillian had continued to stroke the mare’s soft nose, taking comfort in the gentle creature’s nearness. A waft of tobacco smoke swirled toward her and alerted her to the fact that she was no longer alone. Startled, she turned to see John Steele leaning casually against a nearby post, quietly watching her while he sucked on a pipe.
“Mr. Steele,” she greeted him cordially with a slight nod of her head.
“Hello again, Miss Hamilton. May I say that you’re looking particularly lovely today? In fact, I would go so far as to say that you are the loveliest lady at this gathering.”
Lillian blushed. “Thank you. That is very kind of you to say. Although I would have to disagree.”
He shook his head in admonishment and walked toward her. “You are too modest, my lady.”
She smiled slightly and stepped away from the mare, giving her silky coat one last, soothing caress. “To what do I owe this unexpected meeting?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“It’s just coincidence, I can assure you, but I’m glad that I ran into you. Please accept my apologies for my behavior at the dinner dance. I acted appallingly. I very regrettably misconstrued your desire for a walk.”
Lillian nodded in acknowledgment and watched as he tamped down his pipe before slipping it into an inner pocket of his waistcoat.
He offered her his arm. “Will you allow me to make it up to you? Will you walk with me? You look like you’re in need of some pleasant conversation and diversion. I love horses but they are not great conversationalists.”
Lillian smiled and linked her arm with his. “That is true, but they are very good listeners and providers of comfort. Horses have always soothed me.”
“And what has you in need of comfort, may I ask?”
Lillian studied him while they strolled. She knew that William harbored a dislike for John Steele, but as he hadn’t bothered to enlighten her about it, she could see no harm in taking an innocent walk with the man in broad daylight. Besides, Mr. Steele had happened along at a time when she could use a distraction and some light conversation.
“Nothing specific,” she finally answered.
“It wouldn’t have anything to do with Mary Simpson, would it?”
Lillian threw him a sharp look. “Why do you ask?”
“I saw you with her earlier. I was placing a bet when I saw you walk past and I’d planned to follow you to offer my apologies for my behavior the night we met. When I looked up next, you were engaged in conversation with Mary and it looked to be quite heated.”
Lillian gave him a level stare. “She’s under the impression that I’m more than a governess and she believes that I’m harboring some idea of acquiring William for myself.”
He looked shocked. “I can’t believe that she would approach you like that. Everyone knows that she has designs on William Cartwright, but to accuse you of such a thing is totally inappropriate.”
“I was a little taken aback but I understand it for what it is. I won’t let her jealousy get to me.”
She supposed that she was more than a governess. What her actual status was in William’s life, she was unsure about, and she definitely wouldn’t be elaborating on it to virtual strangers.
John tightened his hand on her elbow. “Well, I admire your fortitude. I don’t think that I would be quite so understanding, given the circumstances.”
She smiled in gratitude. “Thank you.”
They rounded a corner and Lillian caught sight of a tall, impressive figure striding in their direction. It wasn’t hard to miss William’s formidable and intimidating physique, particularly when anger emanated from him in waves. He came to an abrupt halt in front of them and wrenched her away from John Steele’s hold.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he growled. “I was worried!”
“I went for a walk,” Lillian responded coolly. “I didn’t want to disturb you and your neighbors.”
He narrowed his eyes on her before turning his arctic glare on her companion. “It didn’t take you long to seek out the company of Miss Hamilton, Steele.”
“I didn’t realize that you w
ere required to vet her strolling companions, Cartwright. Miss Hamilton looked to be in need of some pleasant diversion and I offered my services.”
“Of course you did. You just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”
“That is exactly the case,” Lillian retorted sharply. “We were doing nothing more than enjoying a stroll together. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will see you back at our picnic.”
After being harassed by William’s jealous paramour and confronted by the cozy spectacle of him with his very eligible neighbor, she was in no mood to indulge his jealous flights of fancy. She spun on her heel and started quickly for their picnic area. She’d not ventured far, however, when William caught her up.
Grasping her by the arm, he halted her. “What were you doing with him, Lillian?” he asked, his voice ominously low. “You know my feelings about that man.”
“I don’t know why you feel the way you do,” she responded. “In any case, it was just an innocent walk. I’d grown tired of being confronted by the ladies of your acquaintance.”
His jaw hardened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Your Mary Simpson is unhappy that you’ve called a halt to your liaison and she wasted no time in telling me her opinion on the matter.”
“She is not ‘mine’,” he snarled. “You are mine and I will not have you liaising with gentlemen that I see as unfit!”
Lillian was dumbfounded. “I don’t believe that you’ve any say in the matter,” she said coolly.
“That’s where you’re wrong, my sweet, and don’t test me on the subject. I’ll speak to Mary. She had no right to confront you.”
Lillian studied him, his fierce expression brooking no room for further argument, and she decided that she’d let the discussion rest for the moment.
“Fine.” She shook her arm free of his grasp and started once more to walk in the direction of their picnic.
William again caught her within two strides and, taking hold of her elbow, he tugged her close to his side. He leaned down to speak in her ear, his voice dripping with ominous promise, “Just wait until we get home, Lilly. I’ll show you who you belong to.”
Chapter Eighteen
Mrs. Thompson and the children were not joining them for the ball that evening. They’d all enjoyed an early dinner of salad and cold meat before the children were bathed and put to bed and Lillian had left Mrs. Thompson in the kitchen making a cup of tea that she planned to take to her room when she retired for the evening.
Instead, it would be just William and Lillian. The idea of attending with William, as if they were stepping out together, had Lillian a little nervous. William, however, had no such qualms and had insisted that he would want no other woman on his arm. This stance of his was proving more than a little confusing. Did it mean that he wanted to show everyone that she was more than an employee, more than just the governess? Of course, there was his continued references to her as his, which she found to be at once irritating and strangely exciting. Apart from that, William hadn’t said anything to her in regards to their relationship status, so she’d decided just to follow his lead.
The velvet maroon dress had turned out beautifully. It was cut lower than she would have initially liked, but Mrs. Thompson had declared that she should show off her best assets, as long as it was done tastefully. The V neckline flaunted a decorous display of cleavage. From there, the dress fell straight to below her waist where a wide satin sash tied at the side, providing the adornment and a break between fabrics. The dress ended just above her ankles in a swirl of maroon chiffon.
She’d just finished styling her hair when there was a light rap on her door and William strode briskly into the room.
The man really has no boundaries. As he paced toward her, she smiled slightly and her stomach fluttered at the sight of him dressed in his black tuxedo and looking strikingly handsome.
He stopped behind her so that their reflections were repeated in the beveled mirror through which she’d watched him enter.
He bent his head to her ear and spoke in a low, seductive voice, “You look stunning, Lilly.” He breathed in deeply, scenting her. “Hmm, apples, my favorite smell in the world.”
Their gazes met in the glass as he brought one hand up from behind her to caress her cleavage, gripping her hip with his other. “But I’m not sure I approve of you showing so much of this delectable skin. If I let you out looking like this, I’m going to have to beat the men off you with my fists.”
Lillian’s head spun as his breath tickled her ear and his proprietary words stamped themselves on her brain.
“I’m going to have to show you who you belong to, like I promised you earlier today.” He dropped his hand from her hip to inch her dress up her thighs until he had the fabric bunched around her waist. He groaned low in his throat when her silk pantyhose and lace undergarments were revealed and displayed decadently in the mirror.
“Hold your dress up,” he commanded, his hungry gaze meeting hers in the reflection.
She grasped her dress, holding it in place above her waist as William slowly drew her lace undergarments down her legs. Her breathing grew shallow and her heart rate beat a mad tattoo against her ribcage.
He pressed himself against her buttocks and ground his hips, intensifying the sensation of his solid erection. She whimpered and arched her back, inviting him closer.
“It’s been five days since I’ve had you,” he rasped. “Do you feel how hard I am? How badly I need you?”
“Yes,” she gasped. “Please, William.”
He snaked a hand across her lower abdomen, caressing the inside of her thigh with his other hand, circling the sensitive skin in a slow motion just above her pantyhose. She started to grow wet with desire, the dampness seeping out of her sex, the feeling familiar now and oh so welcome. She moaned in appreciation and thrust her hips back against his heavy, throbbing length. She tried to bob lower, tried desperately to make his caressing fingers reach that sweet spot between her thighs.
He was having none of it, however, and seemed determined to move at his own pace. He stilled and growled a warning in her ear. She whimpered and stopped her movements as her eyes met his once more.
He cupped her chin, manipulated her head to the side and nibbled on her neck while he continued to caress torturous circles on her inner thigh with his other hand.
Lillian’s senses were on overload. Her nipples pebbled painfully, warmth pooled low in her belly and her insides clenched in anticipation of his touch to her sex.
She watched their reflection with bated breath as he slowly slipped a hand beneath the lace of her undergarments to slide a finger along her moist folds. His touch sent her nerve endings sizzling and her heart rate skyrocketing. She jolted at the impact. He kept one hand clamped tightly on her chin and continued to devour her neck, running two fingers of his other hand up and down the outer lips of her aching sex. Relentlessly he massaged her, using his fingers to swirl her juices up through her center and lightly over her clitoris.
His touch was so light it was torturous and she needed more. “Please,” she begged.
“You are so wet, sweetheart. So moist for me,” he purred against her skin.
His eyes blazed fiercely in the glass as she writhed against him, her need overcoming his demands to keep still.
Finally, he slipped a finger inside her, then another and pressed up deeply. She moaned and closed her eyes as he filled and stretched her with his strong, callused fingers.
“So tight,” he hissed. “God, I want my cock inside you.”
“Yes, yes,” she cried, desperate for more.
He bent at the knees to accommodate their height difference and ran his hand from her chin, down her side, to her hip until he reached the back of her knee, where he cupped it, swept her leg up and opened her wide.
She gasped at the sight of her sex, spread so open and exposed in the mirror. She could see the moisture glistening between her legs and William’s fingers probing in
and out of her slick channel. She pressed her back into his chest and used his body to stabilize herself.
She was panting now—her breath coming in soft little puffs that matched the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. Her legs began trembling and pressure built in her core, a gradual gathering of roiling sensations that had her bucking her hips in a shameless attempt to drive William’s fingers deeper.
Then abruptly he withdrew, slowly and inexorably until he circled the tips of his fingers over the outer lips of her sex lightly. The building pressure in her loins started to abate, her budding orgasm began drifting away from her and she whimpered. She needed more. She was so close and she couldn’t understand why that sensation she wanted so desperately still eluded her.
She tore her eyes away from the erotic display between her thighs and sought William’s gaze. She met his intense stare—dark and hooded with lust.
“Please,” she whispered desperately.
He dropped his mouth to her ear. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“I want that feeling.”
He chuckled and dipped his fingers in once more and thrust them high and deep. She moaned and threw her head back, resting it on his shoulder.
“Yes,” she hissed.
William tightened his hold on her waist and straightened so that she was suspended in front of him, his chest and upper arms bulging magnificently as he took her entire weight. He tugged her leg wider to allow him greater access and she gasped.
That was it—the gathering pressure inside her started to gain momentum and she writhed her hips, desperately bucking against his thrusting hand. Then he placed his thumb on her clitoris, massaging the tight little bud of nerves until the sensations inside her grew overwhelming—like a cresting wave—and with one final tug on that sensitive button, she tumbled over a blissful edge. She cried out as her inner muscles clenched and throbbed around William’s fingers and he brought her down from her orgasm gradually, softening the thrust of his fingers and nipping the shell of her ear while she relaxed against him in a panting heap.