by Jane Charles
“I will.”
He added more wood to the fire so that it burned brightly then left her room, leaving the door only half open and crossed the hall. If Grace left her room she would need to open the door further and he would hear it squeak.
For a moment he stood in the center of the dark bedchamber and let his eyes adjust. The moon was bright enough that he could make out the placement of the furniture. He closed the door, leaving it open only a crack and stood behind it. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and loosened the placket on his breeches. His cock sprang forth, hard and pulsating with need. As much as he hated to do this, a part of him still believing it was wrong; Matthew knew he would get no rest tonight until he had found release.
He grasped his member tight, imagining it was Grace who held him and moved his fist up and down, wondering what her mouth would feel like, the warm heat enveloping him, taking him deep, her tongue caressing the underside as her delicate fingers caressed his sack.
In a matter of moments Matthew was ejaculating into his handkerchief with enough force that it almost buckled his knees. He grabbed the wall to remain upright and bit his lip to keep from groaning.
With one last shudder he relaxed and let out a long sigh before moving to the chair beside the window and falling into it.
That one act left him completely drained. Had he been able to find his release the way he truly desired, he may have expired on the spot.
Matthew wadded up the handkerchief and shoved into an inside pocket and fastened his breeches. As inviting as the bed looked and as much as he wished to be out of his clothing, Matthew knew he couldn’t allow himself to fall into a deep sleep again. Someone had gotten past him before and he would not allow it again. He had to protect Miss Cooper and this chair was comfortable enough to see him through what remained of the night.
Grace lay in her bed wondering what had come over her. She had been having a nightmare. Someone was in her room. Then Vicar Trent was there and all she could think about was kissing him. Her face burned with embarrassment. How could she have behaved in such an ill-bred manner? Yet, he hadn’t rejected her. Instead, he had engaged her in the most delicious kiss she had ever experienced. Not that she had ever been kissed before, but nobody could kiss as wonderfully as Vicar Trent.
But how could she behave in such a way? Her father was below in his bed, and nobody knew if he would survive, and here she was, behaving like a harlot. Vicar Trent had not been appalled, but was he just being kind?
He didn’t act as if he was humoring her. He behaved as if he wanted to do more with her. Oh how she wished she knew exactly what men and women did together. She was certain it had something to do with the ache below, in her private area, which was mysteriously damp. Was that desire as well?
Grace rolled over on her side and clamped her legs tightly together. That only made the ache worse. She blew out a breath. What was she to do? Her breasts were heavy and tingling and her private areas pulsed. A girl couldn’t sleep in this condition, but there was nothing to be done. All she could hope was that it went away soon.
Slowly she brought a hand up and grasped her breast. The nipple was tight, like they were when she was cold, but she was very warm at the moment. Especially since Vicar Trent had built the fire up. Was that desire too? But why? She pinched the end and a jolt of desire rushed to her private areas making her ache worse. How odd that the two were connected.
She glanced around the room, even though she was certain she was alone and burrowed further beneath the blankets. With her other hand she touched the area between her thighs that pulsated. The most delicious sensation warmed her within and the ache became stronger but it wasn’t anything like the pains she suffered during her monthly.
This was all a bit disconcerting and Grace was fairly certain she was not supposed to be touching herself in this manner. Not that anyone had told her it was wrong but such things were never discussed.
Despite the pleasure, she took her hands away and rested them before her on the side of the bed. Maybe one day she would learn where all this led.
Her lids grew heavy and Grace let her eyes close, trying to ignore the new sensations her body was experiencing and find slumber.
She couldn’t breathe and Grace fought to scream but there was only silence no matter how hard she tried. Someone was pushing on her and she couldn’t get away.
“Grace!” the voice intruded on her nightmare.
“Wake up.”
She struggled to open her eyes but it was so hard. She needed air. With all her might she opened her mouth and took a deep breath and pushed the person away.
“Damn and blast.”
She opened her eyes to find Vicar Trent sitting on her floor amongst the broken glass. Had he fallen?
“Now you wake up.”
“What happened?” Her hands shook and the nightmare wavered on the fringes of her consciousness.
“You were having another bad dream.”
“Yes, I know,” she said slowly. “How did you know?”
“You were screaming.”
Her heartbeat increased. So someone had heard her. The screams hadn’t been silent. Though it was a relief that Vicar Trent came to her aid, she felt bad for having disturbed him. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He pushed up on the floor to stand and winced before he brought his hand forward. A chard of glass stuck out his palm, blood pooled around it.
“Oh, dear. She shoved the covers back from her bed and moved to rise.”
“Stay where you are,” he barked. “We don’t need you cutting your feet.”
Grace ignored him and looked for her shoes or slippers. After she had jumped in bed earlier she had dropped her slippers at the side of the bed. There were next to her bedside table. Careful to avoid the glass on the floor, she slipped her feet inside before she rushed over to the pitcher of water in the basin. He walked over to her, his arm extended in front of him, palm up. Being as careful as possible, Grace plucked the glass from his hand. It began to bleed anew and she poured cool water over his cut before she took a small cloth and pressed it against his hand. “My bandages are in the kitchen.”
“I’ll get them. You need to get back in bed.”
“You can’t wrap your own hand,” Grace insisted and picked up the lamp Vicar Trent had left in her room earlier and carried it out into the hall and down the stairs. She assumed he followed. When she entered the kitchen she lit two more and began rummaging in the cabinets for her bandages. She seemed to be tending his wounds quite a bit lately. Had she not been present each time he was injured, she would wonder if he were accident prone.
Vicar Trent settled at one of the chairs and produced his hand once again. The cut was long, but not overly deep, and it wasn’t bleeding like it had earlier. A breeze blew into the room and the flames flickered. She glanced around for the source. The back door had blown open. A chair lay on its side. Had someone come into the house again?
Vicar Trent stood. “The door was broken earlier.” He bent to pick up the chair and set it right. “We had assumed the assailant came in through the front door but they broke in through this one.”
A chill ran up her spine.
“I didn’t want to alarm you and thought I had secured this door sufficiently so that nobody could come in.”
It probably would have sufficed if the wind hadn’t picked up. Grace glanced out the window. In the moonlight she could see limbs bend and leaves be torn from trees. Soon it would be winter.
Vicar Trent pushed the door closed again and this time he pushed a cabinet in front of it to keep it shut. “That should hold for the rest of the night. I will see about getting it fixed tomorrow.”
“Thank you.”
“We should return upstairs. It is almost morning and you haven’t slept much.”
“Could we check on father first?”
“Of course.” Vicar Trent smiled kindly at her and nodded. Together they walked to her father’s room and looked inside. He r
ested peacefully, as did Perkins who snored quietly from his chair. Taking the lamp from Grace, Vicar Trent led her back upstairs to her room.
“I should have thought to bring a broom.”
“It will keep until tomorrow.”
She hesitated before moving further into her room. What if the person had come back and was hiding in the house? What if he came for her while Vicar Trent slept? “I don’t want to be alone.”
“I don’t think that is wise.”
She turned and looked at him. “Please.” She couldn’t be alone. Her heart raced with fear at being in here by herself.
Vicar Trent sighed. “Very well.” He followed her into the room and waited while she crawled back into bed before settling in the chair in front of the fire.
“She is fine mother. Just go back downstairs.”
Matthew stirred in his chair, trying to make sense of what was around him. Surprisingly he had found sleep, but what was Audrey Montgomery doing here?
“Well something isn’t right. You look at bit shocked.”
Was that Mrs. Montgomery’s voice? What was she doing in the hall outside of Grace’s room?
“No, everything is fine.” Miss Montgomery dropped her voice to a whisper.
“What are you hiding, Audrey? Do not push me away.”
Matthew stood and looked for a place to hide. That woman couldn’t find him here. It was bad enough when she found him and Grace exiting the barn yesterday, he couldn’t imagine what the woman would do, or say, if she found him in her bedchamber. Across the room was the bathing chamber but he couldn’t enter it without crossing in front of the door to the hall. The armoire was also on the opposite wall, though he loathed the idea of have to hide in such a place. There was nothing on this side of the room save hiding beneath the bed and he refused to hide as if he had done something wrong.
“Grace is sleeping mother. I don’t want to disturb her.”
Matthew sat back in the chair and slouched. Perhaps Mrs. Montgomery wouldn’t notice him if she came in.
“I want to see that she is uninjured.”
“I said she was fine.”
The next sound Matthew heard was a gasp, which he assumed was from the mother. Then Grace spoke.
“Mrs. Montgomery, what are you doing here?”
“Nobody answered the door when we called and we knew you were here,” Miss Montgomery began.
“Hush, Audrey,” her mother insisted.
But Miss Montgomery continued. “We went around back to see if you were in the barn and saw that the back door was broken and open. That is when we saw the bloody bandages and after the attack on your father, I wanted to make sure you and your father were unharmed.”
“That is very kind of you, Audrey,” said Grace. “But as you can see, I am well.”
“But you are not alone,” Mrs. Montgomery hissed.
Matthew groaned and sat up. “It isn’t as it looks.”
“That is what you said yesterday. A gentleman does not spend the night in the room of an unattached woman.”
Matthew stood. “I can explain.”
“There is no need.” The woman stuck her nose in the air and marched out the door. “Come along Audrey, I no longer feel it is right that you associate with Grace.”
“But mother, at least let them explain.”
“There is nothing to explain. I saw enough with my own eyes.”
“Oh dear, that woman is going to make trouble again,” Grace muttered.
Though he had put off marriage until he could come to know her better, Matthew now knew that time was at an end. As soon as it could be arranged he would write to his brother about obtaining a Special License, or perhaps write to the vicar in the next town about performing the ceremony. Did a vicar cry the banns for himself in his own church? He had never come across that issue before and would write and ask about that as well. Of course, this was assuming Grace would marry him. But what choice did she really have?
Grace just knew Mrs. Montgomery was going to make trouble for Vicar Trent. All the man had done was come to her aid, and make her feel safe, and for that Audrey’s mother was going to spread more vicious rumors about him. Why were they here so early today?
Grace glanced at the clock. Goodness, it was nearly eleven in the morning. How could she have slept so late, again? Of course, she had slept very little last night. The sun was about to rise when she last closed her eyes.
Regardless, she needed to get a start on her chores because cows did not milk themselves.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.”
“Yes, thank you.”
She scrambled to find a dress she could wear to go about her chores. When she was clothed Grace brushed out her hair and tied it behind her and then removed her slippers, adding thicker stockings and put on her boots. On her way out of the house she stopped to check on her father. There was no change, other than he had a bit more color today, and made her way to the barn. Inside she found Matthew already on a stool milking a cow. Beside him was Clive. Grace settled at the side of the next cow. The three of them worked quietly until all of the cows had been milked. When it came time to collect the eggs, Matthew took only from the uncovered nests and held the basket as Grace gathered the rest.
“I need you to find my brother, Jordan, and tell him it is urgent that he come here,” Vicar Trent explained to Clive as the lad hopped up onto the seat of his wagon.
“I will, sir. I promise.”
“Why do you need your brother?” Grace asked after the lad drove off.
“You need servants in this house, and guards. At least until we know who tried to kill you last night.”
A chill ran up her spine. “It is kind of you to want to help, but I cannot afford servants, and especially guards.”
He grasped her gently around the top of her arms. “I insist and will pay for them myself.”
“You can’t afford them anymore than I can. I know how low a vicar’s salary is in this town.”
He smiled down at her and she thought she heard a slight chuckle. “Don’t worry. I have the funds.”
“I don’t want you to go out of your way for our benefit.”
His hands went from her upper arms to Grace’s waist and he pulled her closer. “This is hardly out of the way. If you haven’t noticed, you have become rather important to me.”
How important? She was wishing she could ask that question but did not want to press him. And what if it was because of guilt from last night? “Vicar Trent, you don’t have to feel obligated to me because of last night.”
“I don’t.”
“I know I shouldn’t have kissed you and I apologize for putting you into an uncomfortable position.”
“Didn’t I make it clear last evening that I had wanted to kiss you for a very long time?”
Yes he had, but she wasn’t sure if he said those words last night just to make her feel better or if he truly meant them. She hoped that he meant them but could anything be trusted when they were a result of the position they found themselves in during the middle of the night?
“It is better if it is forgotten.”
She glanced away, unable to look into his eyes. While she dearly wished he would declare himself, Grace also suspected that if he did, it was because he felt responsible for her, or wanted to protect her because of the danger, or take care of her because of her father, or felt obligated to do the right thing because he had kissed her last night and touched her body in a manner that should not have been allowed outside of marriage, and they had been in her bedroom. If she was convinced he was pursuing her for herself, then she would welcome the attention. But Grace was just as certain his interest had more to do with the other reasons than simply wishing to be with her.
“I should go check on father.” She pulled away and practically ran into the house, never actually answering his question.
Mrs. Thomas had just delivered a cup of tea and Perkins had father sitting higher, though still reclined on pillows, but he w
as drinking the tea. Perhaps he would have the energy to eat something of substance later.
He glanced up and his eyes met hers. They were still sad. Oh, why had he tried to kill himself? Didn’t he know what his loss would do to her?
Of course she was being selfish. His life was far more difficult than hers since he had little control over his own body and his brother wanted to lock him away.
She must make him want to live and Grace pasted a smile on her face and crossed the room. “How are you this morning, Papa?”
He shrugged. At least he was communicating.
She grasped his free hand. “You had me so worried. Don’t you ever try anything so foolish again?” Against her will tears welled in her eyes. “I love you and I don’t know what I would do without you. Please promise me.”
He turned his hand over and gave her a quick squeeze.
Grace sniffed and nodded. “Then it is forgotten.” And she would do her best to forget it and try her hardest to be a better daughter and protect her father from his brother.
“Breakfast will be ready shortly. Why don’t you and Vicar Trent join me in the dining room?”
The thought of a real breakfast made Grace’s stomach grumble. Her father must have heard it because he gave her a half smile and let go of her hand. She bent to kiss him on the forehead. “I’ll be back later.”
Vicar Trent was already seated at the table as was Mr. Thomas when Grace entered. Mrs. Thomas came in from the kitchen with plates of food. The rich aromas set her mouth watering and Grace loaded more food on her plate than normal. It was if she hadn’t eaten in days. And, perhaps she hadn’t. What had she eaten last and when was it? She couldn’t recall. So much of it was a blur after she had come home to find out her father had fallen down the stairs.
Matthew sat back in his chair, pleasantly full and sipped the tea as Grace’s words rang in his head. It is better if it is forgotten. As if it were even possible to forget that moment when their lips met, her body against his, her breast cupped in his hand. He shifted in his seat, grateful the table hid his growing desire. Perhaps it was best to put it from his mind at the moment, but he would never forget.