He’d watched Mary stroke his daughter’s braid with gentle fingers and something inside him had shifted. Anne hadn’t been this excited in months. Perhaps Mary was just the change that Anne had needed after all.
He found himself leaving the room and heading down the back stairs toward the kitchen. She was breathing life into him too. His insides were a twisting mess, he’d barely slept last night in anticipation of her arrival, and the thought of picnicking with her sounded…delightful.
He stopped on the steps, halfway between the first and second floor. He’d felt this way once before. Clara had been a small woman of fragile beauty. Later he’d learned that she’d spent much of her childhood ill, but as an adult, she’d outgrown the illness.
He’d loved the way she’d fit under his arm, and Mary was right about people finding joy in caring for others. He’d taken great delight in shielding her from the world. Of course, he hadn’t been able to do a damn thing about planting his seed in her womb. And he’d been completely helpless when birthing had been too much for her.
His head dropped in his hands. Yes, he felt a pull toward Mary. But she wasn’t the type of woman he should marry. The next time, he’d take a wife of strong stock. Though Mary was strong-willed, that still didn’t mean she could survive pregnancy and childbirth given her small stature.
Dropping his hands, he continued down to the kitchen. He stopped, watching Mary help Anne cut bread, her hands gently guiding his daughter’s.
He closed his eyes. She’d been here for mere minutes and he’d already resorted to lurking in doorways and spying. Mary’s voice washed over him. “That’s perfect. Just like that. Slow, even strokes.”
His hands clenched into fists. Bloody hell, he wanted her to speak to him with those same words and soft tone. Just on an entirely different subject.
“Like this?” Anne asked, eager for approval. “Am I doing a good job?”
“Wonderful,” Mary answered. “Your father is going to love this picnic.”
He was going to love it. Every damned second.
“And then after the picnic, we can draw?”
“I’m sure we can. But first we’ll have to pick the perfect thing to draw. Something that is relatively easy for our first time and something that sparks our imagination and strikes our fancy.”
Sin knew what he’d draw if given the chance. He pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. He wouldn’t survive a week with Mary in the house, let alone two. He was certain of it. Stepping into the kitchen, he dropped his hands. “Anne, come get me when you’re ready for the picnic.”
And then, without waiting for an answer, he stomped back up the stairs to his office where he tossed himself into his chair. He had to last a week with Mary. Honestly, he had to last far longer. She was good for his daughter and he’d endured worse for the sake of Anne’s happiness.
But as he tried to start working, again and again, his thoughts returned to the rich brown silk of Mary’s hair and the soft shape of her eyes. The pale pink that infused her cheeks and lovely curves of her figure danced in front of his closed eyes.
He dropped his head into his hands, propping his elbows on the desk. Mary was haunting him.
Chapter Six
Mary sat on the blanket, enjoying the summer sun as she waited for Anne to return with Lord Sinclair. Here in the shade of a flowering pear tree, nothing could bother her, not even her worries over her new, temporary-for-now position.
She pulled out a sketch pad and started to draw. First, she drew a nearby daisy, dancing on the end of its stalk in the summer breeze. But her thoughts drifted to little Anne and her charcoal followed. Soon, she was adding a girl bent over and sniffing the flower.
Mary wasn’t nearly as accomplished as Grace but she pictured the girl in her mind and tried to capture the child’s essence. There was so much life in the girl waiting to come out. Then she thought of Lord Sinclair. Slowly, she began to sketch his outline too, behind the child, smiling in support. His hands were held out waiting to help the girl, his shoulders slightly bent in case she fell as she danced toward the flower.
It was a rough sketch, no detail added, but the subjects were clear and the picture made her smile, despite herself.
When she looked up, the real-life Anne was bounding toward her, Lord Sinclair following in her wake, just as in her drawing. Her smile broadened as she set the sketch aside and waved. Sin waved back and her grin slipped, her tongue darting out to lick her now parched lips. How could the man affect her so with the tiniest of gestures?
“Do you see, Papa? Isn’t it lovely? This is so much nicer than lessons.” Anne stopped just on the edge of the blanket.
Mary answered before Lord Sinclair could. “Lessons are very important too. You must be ready for life as an adult, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.”
“Agreed,” Sin said as he chose a spot across from her on the blanket. “And this picnic looks delicious. I must confess that I too wish we’d done this before now.”
“Me too,” Anne answered, sitting next to her father.
She reached for a bit of meat pie, but Mary held up her hand. “Remember, we serve his lordship first.”
“Oh yes,” Anne nodded and turned to her father. “What would you like to eat, my lord?”
Sin’s eyebrows rose. “A meat pie and some chicken, please.”
Mary tapped a bowl of fruit, giving Anne a wink. Anne nodded, folding her hands and turning to her father to practice her manners. “You must try the dates. They are in season and delightful.”
“I will take your recommendation, my lady.” And he gave Mary a long look that made her shift on the ground, her eyes dropping to her lap.
“Very good,” Anne replied sitting up straighter and nodding along. “Would you also care for some tea?”
“Tea would be lovely.” And then he dipped his chin in a nod of acknowledgement. Mary’s breath stuck in her throat. She knew what his gesture meant. He understood what Mary had been attempting to accomplish with this picnic lunch. Anne was still engaged in lessons. The entire affair had been a big lesson on first preparing food, then learning the proper way to serve. Of course, Anne had barely noticed, which was the best way to teach someone. But Sin clearly understood what Mary was doing with the day and he appreciated her efforts.
And that was more pleasing to Mary than if he’d winked at her during a ball or asked her to dance.
They ate their meal, Anne doing her best to make the small talk as Mary had instructed her. “Isn’t the day lovely?” she asked at one point.
“The breeze is a delight,” Mary had answered. “And your garden, Lord Sinclair, is stunning. What a beautiful place.”
Anne had clapped her hands. “Last year it was overgrown but this year we were able to hire a gardener again.”
Mary didn’t answer as she studied Sin. His mouth tightened as he too remained silent. She knew he’d taken over the Gaming Hell from Darlington and the others and clearly he needed the funds if he was hiring staff he hadn’t previously been able to afford. Finally, she cleared her throat. “I’m so glad the gardener was able to do such a lovely job.”
“Wait a moment.” Anne jumped up. “There are some snapdragons I want to show you. They’re my favorite flower the gardener planted this year. Maybe we’ll draw those.” Then the girl was off, disappearing down a path.
Mary glanced over at Sin to find his head bent low as he stared at his hands. “This picnic has been lovely. I’m glad to use the garden. I have to confess we haven’t been out here much.”
Mary scooted a bit closer. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Anne certainly has and she’s learning a great deal.”
“I noticed,” he answered. “And you’re learning a great deal about us too.”
Mary shook her head though he wasn’t looking at her.
“My father didn’t leave me with the flushest Earldom,” he said still looking down. “I was struggling from the moment I took over. And after my wife passed three y
ears ago…” His mouth turned down, as tight lines of pain marked his face.
She didn’t think. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his arm. “No need to explain to me. I’ve lived off my aunt and uncle for the past five years. I envy you the opportunity to change your situation. I only wish that I could do the same for myself.”
He placed a hand over hers and a tingling of energy spread up her arm. She looked down at the intimate gesture but then his words pulled her gaze back up. “Why don’t you marry? Won’t your aunt and uncle sponsor you?”
She dropped her chin to her chest. “They already financed one season. I won’t be any more of a burden to them then I’ve already been.”
“Burden?” he asked, his fingers squeezing hers. “It’s your uncle’s duty to care for you.”
She looked at him then, his deep brown eyes drawing her in. “I suppose. I feel better, inside, when I am useful. I much prefer teaching Anne then batting my eyelashes at balls.”
He stared at her for a moment longer before he leaned closer, his breath tickling her cheeks. And then, slowly, softly, he placed his lips on top of hers. She’d kissed before. But not like this. This light touch stole the air from her lungs and sent shivers of pleasure straight to her core.
Dear lord, she was in very deep trouble.
Sin had just made a terrible mistake. Mary’s lush lips under his felt better than anything he’d ever experienced before. So supple and yielding, they pressed to his with a passion that belied the gentle touch.
His body responded with a roaring need. He wanted more.
Which was a mistake. He shouldn’t have even kissed her. She was a tutor, his employee, and all wrong for him.
He pulled away, listening to his head even as his body protested. “Miss Chase,” he growled out, his voice hoarse and deep. “My apologies. I should not have—”
Her eyes widened and her head snapped back. “Your apologies?” Then she pursed her lips. “There’s no need.” But she pulled her hand from his arm and used it to push herself to stand. “I’ll find Anne.”
Regret tightened his chest. He shouldn’t have kissed her, but just as bad, he should not have expressed regret. “Wait.”
She stilled, her hands fisting her skirts as though she were about to run.
“You are a very attractive woman.” He stood too and reached for her hand. Reluctantly, she untangled her fingers from her skirts. He gently took her fingers in his. “But you are also under my employ and I would not want you to think I’d take advantage of that fact.”
Mary’s shoulders relaxed and her grip softened. “Thank you for the explanation.”
“Miss Chase,” Anne called. “I brought you a snapdragon in every color. Do you wish to see?”
“Very much,” she answered, stepping around him to greet Anne. “Oh, they are lovely. Run to the kitchen and fetch a vase. We’ll arrange them.”
Anne clapped her hands. “Should I bring sheers too?”
“Yes, please, but hold them by the blade, not by the handles,” she called after his daughter.
“Yes, Miss Chase,” Anne called over her shoulder darting off again.
“And no running while you’re holding them.” Mary called as the child disappeared, leaning away from him to be heard by Anne.
He stared at her with painful awareness. She was beautiful and this first afternoon had been an oasis compared with the past several months. Did that mean she could do the job after all? And how would he cope with her living here full time? “You’re going to teach her to arrange flowers?”
“I am,” Mary answered, pulling her hand from his once again.
“And her fear? Is this also part of addressing that?”
Mary turned to look at him. “I first need to see what makes her afraid. Then we shall know if we can fix it.” She quirked a brow at him. “So far I haven’t seen anything.”
He straightened, looking down at her. It was ridiculous but he had the urge to ask her if she thought she could fix him too. But of course, she couldn’t. Instead, he murmured a ridiculously personal question. “She does all right most days. Better with you here. It’s night that she struggles with.”
She let out a long breath. “Night is difficult, isn’t it? We all have fears that come out then.”
“What makes you afraid?”
“My brother died as a baby. My parents in a carriage accident. My fiancé at war.” She swallowed, her face tightening in pain. “I am afraid of wasting my time on this earth.”
He drew in a deep breath. Her comments about working and being useful coming into focus. “Would you consider marrying to be a waste of time?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not. Having a family is the most useful thing in the world. But I can’t spend years flirting in society. I won’t. If that means that I spend my life helping children like Anne rather than having my own, I’m prepared for that.”
“Mary,” he whispered so that only she could here. Something inside him was shifting. “Such loss. And here you stand ready to help others.” A great many of his doubts about her were melting away. At least the ones involving her teaching Anne.
She shook her head. “It’s because of the loss, not in spite of it.” Her mouth pinched. “When I lost my fiancé, Harold, usefulness was the only thing that saved me.”
He grimaced, wanting to pull her close and hold her in comfort. Hell, he wanted to kiss her again.
But he couldn’t do that. Even if Mary was right for Anne, she was not for him, and therefore he needed to leave her be. “I admire your strength.” Her inner strength called to him, but still, how could he allow her to slip beneath his guard when he knew all too well what could happen to her delicate body during childbirth? He couldn’t risk that kind of loss again. He took a step back. “I’m so glad you’re here to help my daughter.” He didn’t bother to add that her presence was a torture for him. A sweet sort of temptation that was going to bring him to his knees.
Chapter Seven
Mary had a lovely afternoon sketching with Anne followed by a wonderful dinner in the nursery. Without Lord Sinclair making her tremble with attraction, her job tutoring Anne was turning out to be a delight.
Brushing out her hair, she carefully braided the long brown strands into a loose braid over her shoulder. She’d changed into a night rail and dressing gown and hummed as she worked through the hair. It had been a very satisfying day.
A cry from the other room made her sit up. The noise sounded again, louder and stronger than the first time.
Jumping from the chair, she raced into the Anne’s connecting room, positive that was the noise’s source.
Sure enough, the child thrashed on the bed, her cries growing louder. Mary settled next to Anne, cupping the child’s cheek. “It’s all right, sweetheart. You’re fine.”
“No,” Anne whimpered, her eyes still closed. “No.”
“Shhhh.” Mary softly stroked the child’s cheek, then she began to sing. “Sleep my child, let peace attend thee, all through the night.”
Anne sighed, her limbs settling back at her sides.
“Guardian angels, God will send thee, all through the night.”
Anne’s eyes opened then. “I like that. Can you sing more?”
“Soft the drowsy hours are keeping. In the veil of slumber sleeping. I my loving vigil keeping all through the night.”
Anne placed her hand over Mary’s. “Will you stay with me for a bit?”
“Of course,” Mary answered. “There now. There’s no need to worry.” And she lay down on top of the covers, still stroking Anne’s cheek. “I’m right here.”
Anne curled into Mary’s side and in seconds was back to sleep again. Mary, however, lay next to the child for a long time. Only when Anne was deeply asleep, did she finally rise from the bed and return to her room.
She didn’t bother to close the door before she moved to her bed and climbed under her covers. She didn’t bother to take off her dressing gown either. Mary had the feeli
ng she’d be up again before too long. But as she relaxed into the pillow, a knock sounded at her door.
Crinkling her brow, she tossed back the cover and crossed the floor to open the large wooden panel. Sin stood on the other side, still fully dressed. Her breath caught to see him standing there in the dark. “My lord,” she asked. “What is it?”
He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I heard Anne. When I went to comfort her, you were already there and I didn’t think it appropriate to enter, but I wanted to check on you before I retired.”
Something inside her melted a bit. He was accustomed to soothing his child back to sleep. “I’m fine and so is she.” She hesitated, leaning her cheek on the edge of the door. “Do you get up with her often in the night?”
He nodded. “Three, sometimes four times. The nanny helps too, of course, but she needs a repose.”
“I will see to her care this evening. You must be exhausted as well.”
He gave her a sideways glance, his eyes filled with apprehension as he stepped closer. “Will you run crying from this house when the fortnight is over?”
That made her smile. “No, not because of this. But I am reconsidering the sleeping arrangements.”
He took a half step closer. “How so?”
“She has a right to be afraid and she needs comfort now. I think I should sleep in the room with her until she’s strong enough to be on her own.”
He touched her cheek causing a shiver of pleasure to race down her spine. She nearly pulled back but he dropped his hand. “Thank you.” His face spasmed in pain. “You’ve no idea how much I appreciate your help,” he said before he turned and crossed the hall to his own room. She watched him enter and then close his door but still, she stood there, leaning against the cool wood.
He hurt too. The loss of his wife, she’d seen it earlier today. Worry for his daughter.
She closed her eyes. She could help him. Help them both. Then she thought of all she’d missed from Harold. She’d never know a man’s touch, the feel of his skin against hers. Sin was lucky in one regard, his love had been complete.
Earl of Sin: Lords of Scandal Book 6 Page 4