by Darcy Burke
His feelings for this woman had not been restrained before, and while he’d done his best to forget about them, having her in his arms again twisted his heart in knots.
Henry’s kiss had a drugging effect that Anna embraced. The spice and earth that was just him spun her senses into overdrive. Even the feel of his hands and he wove them across her back toyed with her inhibitions. Whatever memory she had of this between them was a mere trace of the real thing. How had she lived without this for so many years? How could he make her feel and want so much with just his lips pressed against hers?
He pushed her against the wall, and pulled her skirts up till the hem bunched around her hips. He slipped his hands under the fabric, sliding his palms over her upper thigh, her hips, and around to her bum. Sensation shot through her with such intensity, her breath caught. With both hands, he caressed and drove himself further against her. His thickened member ground against her most sensitive spot, just at the apex of her thighs. She arched against him, eager to find her release.
His lips moved down the soft flesh of her neck, to the round fullness of her breasts. He did not release her from her stays, instead kissing and nipping through the fabric. She moaned in approval.
“I’m going to touch you, Anna.” His voice had a gravel to it that she responded to with a soft groan. “Bend your knee.”
She did as instructed, and he set her foot on top of a trunk. He braced one arm beside her head against the wall, his body covering hers as he slipped his other hand to the soft warm folds of her sex.
A breathless moan slipped through her lips as he stroked one finger along her seam. She had not been touched like this in… years. Rycroft had never touched her like this, choosing to take his pleasure and leave. The only person to ever give her such pleasure had been Henry.
Her silky wetness slicked over his finger as he explored her, and her head rolled against the wall behind her. Henry found her mouth again and she wrapped her arms around his neck wanting to feel him closer, but also needing the stability.
His fingers found her little bead of pleasure, and he slid the tip of his finger down the nub.
“Henry, what...” but her words were lost as he stroked the nub again.
“Is that good?”
She nodded, her head slumping against his forehead as her breath caught. Good was an understatement—the intense wave that rocked through her was all she could focus on. Everything else disappeared. She’d forgotten what pleasure like this could feel like. It wasn’t as though she’d been completely starved from the sensations for ten years, having long ago learned what ways she could touch herself to elicit a similar response, but that paled in comparison to what Henry’s fingers could do.
He stoked the nub again and again, alternating tempo, his fingers more and more slick with her want. Her breaths were nearly moans and her chest hitched as her pleasure pushed her closer to the edge. He could easily use his other hand to unfasten the folds of his trousers and take her there in the attic. She wouldn’t protest, in fact, she would welcome it. She would let him take his pleasure, and take her own in return, and they would push each other into oblivion.
It would have felt too soon, if such a thing were possible, despite not being together for ten years. She wanted this, wanted him, but she didn’t want to regret.
He didn’t take her as she thought he might, and she was grateful for his restraint. Despite her doubts, she doubted she had the strength to stop.
“Henry, I’m-- Oh, oh, Henry.”
He captured her lips again just as she crested over her release. The deep guttural moan that escaped was drowned with his mouth. Her breathing was labored. Every inch of her tingled in pleasure and she dared not try to stand. Which was just as well, for she was draped indelicately in Henry’s arms against the wall. He didn’t move away, but if he had she was certain she would have slumped to the floor.
Slowly her swirling thoughts settled in their rightful places and she opened her eyes. Henry was watching her, his lips pulled to the side in a smirk, swollen from the intensity of their kisses.
She hadn’t remembered that. It hadn’t been like that before.
He removed his arms from where they’d supported her against the wall. His hand came to rest against her cheek, his thumb rubbing tenderly across her lips.
Her brows quirked up. “Might we do that again?”
He laughed and kissed her. “That was merely to demonstrate that further engagement would be a mistake.”
It didn’t feel like a mistake, at least not yet.
“If you feel like this was a mistake, it’s because we didn’t finish properly.” She glanced down to the falls of his trousers; he was still thick having been denied his own release.
She reached for the laces, but he took a step away, just out of her reach.
“You finished properly enough for the both of us, I think. This was for you, love.”
“But you--”
“I will manage without your assistance,” he replied. “Though the memory of your release might be all that I need to handle things on my own.”
The idea of him stroking himself while thinking of her sent shivers of heat down to her toes. “When may we do that again? And perhaps a bit more?”
He chuckled. “I might be open to the idea of revisiting such engagements. If you don’t find yourself filled with regret after some distance.”
Regret was the furthest thing from her mind. Caution, yes, she knew they couldn’t gallivant around the castle engaging in an illicit affair under their hosts’ noses. But why couldn’t she kiss him? Have her wicked way? Was there anything truly stopping such a thing?
It was a tantalizing idea. She could have more of him, of the utter bliss he brought her to. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t done. Widows took lovers all the time. And she was in no danger of losing her heart to him again. He was leaving the country soon. A definite end date to any liaison that might happen.
Millie. Her stepdaughter’s reputation could suffer should an affair be flaunted before the ton, but that was not what she intended. They could be careful, discreet. The idea that had begun to sprout roots earlier in the day now formed into full-fledged thoughts, with well rounded corners, supple and ripe for picking. Their arrangement might only be temporary, but it would be enough. It would have to be enough.
She closed the distance between them until she was close enough to touch him. The earthy scent that was just him mixed with spice toyed with her senses.
“You’re right, it was a mistake.”
His face fell as his blue gaze searched hers. “Anna, I...” His voice was hoarse, like his throat had gone dry.
“Once was not nearly enough.” She leaned up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, her hands wrapped around his head, holding him to her. Her kiss was thorough, promising, a taste of what he was missing. She shouldn’t be the only one left wanting more.
Chapter Seven
It was two days before Anna was alone with Henry again, though she’d spent plenty of time in his company. He’d dined with Anna and the twins, taken tea with them, and paired with her for cards in the evening. When he wasn’t with them, she knew he was searching the castle for this mysterious box his father had left him. Anna would have preferred to join him, but Millie’s recent friendship with Mr. Pennex was looking more and more like a budding romance and Anna wanted to keep an eye on things.
Henry’s company was overwhelming when in the company of the other guests, so it was probably for the best they’d not been alone together since their interlude in the attic.
It wasn’t so much Henry that was overwhelming, but the direction of her thoughts when he was near. It was the memory of their time together mixed with the new. The feel of his lips, and his fingers, and the weight of him as he’d pressed her against the wall. It didn’t feel like a mistake, even two days later, and Anna was left with a craving for more. How could she not taste him again and want more?
“What do you think, Lady Ryc
roft?”
Anna blinked in surprise, pulling herself back to the conversation, not that her involvement had been required. Lady Ashton and Mrs. Canon rattled on enough for everyone. She stood with Henry in the music room as the guests moved from their after dinner gossip and port to evening entertainments.
“I am not sure I have much of an opinion on the matter.”
Both ladies tilted their heads in confusion. That was apparently not the correct thing to say.
“To the possibility of Miss Newbury forming an attachment with Mr. Pennex?”
Right, she should have an opinion on that. “Oh, um...” Anna glanced at Henry out of habit, and he watched her with amusement.
“Were you not telling me what a rarity Miss Newbury was?” he asked her, brows arching.
“Yes.” Anna nodded. “Yes, she is a rarity.” She’d no idea where he was going with this.
“Beauty and grace,” he prompted.
Anna doubted anyone would have used grace to describe Millie but she didn’t contradict.
“And headstrong... obstinate....” Now he was just quoting Pride and Prejudice. “And any gentleman who might want to pursue her should possess a sort of quality not commonly found.”
Finally, Anna saw where he was leading this. “Quite right, Lord Carrington. A gentleman interested in Miss Newbury would need to understand her and I daresay that sort of gentleman is rare.”
“Is it true she has a fifty-thousand-pound dowry?” Mrs. Canon asked.
Unfortunately, it was. Which made finding someone to love Millie for Millie all the more difficult.
Anna waved them off and lied. “I’m not privy to such affairs. My late husband’s brother handles all that unpleasantness. I aim to find Millie the happiness only a lifelong companion can bring.”
The two women shared a glance and Anna wanted to be done with them. Anyone who inquired after Millie’s fortune was not to be considered.
Luckily, they changed the subject.
“I say, Lord Carrington, we’ve not seen you around town as of late.” Lady Ashton smiled sweetly at him, but Anna doubted her sincerity. “Pray tell, where have you been?”
He shrugged. “Here and there.”
“Yes, but doing what?”
“Engineering. Building canals.”
Both women stared at him in dismay, as if he’d just announced he was a chimney sweep.
Lady Ashton recovered first. “Oh, I see. Is there a particular venture you’ve invested in? My husband is always on the lookout for a good financial gain.”
“You mistake my meaning, Lady Ashton. I’ve not invested in a venture that builds canals. I am doing it myself.”
“Your... yourself?” She frowned as if the word did not make sense, as though the whole idea seemed foreign to her.
“Admittedly there is a crew who does most of the work, but as part of the engineering team tasked with designing the water systems, I am often called to view the project firsthand.”
“Firsthand?” Both women looked repulsed.
He nodded. “Sometimes the best way to find a solution is to be down in the trenches with the lads. Resolutions often come quicker when you’ve mud on your boots.”
“Carrington has always had such a keen mind,” Anna interjected. “It is such an accomplishment to have found a way to put his mind to use.”
Henry shrugged again. “I had to do something to occupy myself during my exile.”
Lady Ashton looked sickened. “Of course, now that you’re the earl, do you plan to settle in London?”
“London, no, as there are no canals to build in a city with a river curving through the middle of it.”
“Surely, you’ve more important things to do than...” Mrs. Canon paused, tripping over her words. “Get mud on your boots?”
“With a well-appointed estate manager, the earldom is in good hands. I sail to America in a fortnight.”
“America?” Mrs. Canon tone was scandalized.
Henry nodded. “It’s a vast land, in need of many canals.”
Both women looked appalled and looked to Anna for some sanity. “And you, Lady Rycroft? Have you plans to visit America?”
She did not appreciate their insinuation. “Your ingenuity is to be commended, Lord Carrington. Setting sail for lands unfamiliar, to build something that will last for generations. America is a new land, a blank canvas if you will, the perfect place to put your mark on history.” Anna returned her attention to the two women. “I say, have your husbands or sons made such a contribution to the betterment of society?”
Both women gaped at her but she wasn’t done. “I admit my own husband, may he rest in peace, was not one to take initiative or embark on anything that would improve the lives of others. He squandered his time on centuries-old methods that failed to turn a profit year after year. It was only his riskier investments that allowed the viscountcy to prosper. I wonder if he’d have been more willing to try new methods or invent something himself had he been of stronger mind.” Anna shrugged. “I suppose time will prove which way is better. Rebuking the unknown or embracing the change. What do you think, Lady Ashton?”
Both women stared at her in horror, and Anna knew her words had shocked them.
“It’s no wonder Miss Newbury has such a difficult temperament,” Mrs. Canon chastised.
“That sort of talk will fill a lady’s head with all sorts of unladylike ideas.” Lady Ashton’s face fell into a deep frown. “I would not like to have her as a daughter-in-law. Shame on you for limiting that girl’s prospects.”
Anna stared them both down, but it was Henry who had the last word.
“It’s a good thing she has fifty-thousand-pounds to secure a husband. She can afford to be careful to avoid fortune seeking leeches.”
Mrs. Canon huffed. “Come, Lady Ashton. I have tired of this conversation.”
And they both turned and moved away.
Anna glanced at Henry who watched them walk away, a smirk planted on his lips.
“Goodness, that was rude.”
He turned towards her, brow raised. “Do you think it was something I said?”
Anna chuckled. “Come along then. Let’s find Millie before the performances begin.”
Gazes followed them as they moved across the room. His association with Anna had not gone unnoticed.
Anna wove her way through the chairs and settees to where Millie had claimed seats for them. It wasn’t as though she’d put out signs announcing the chairs as reserved, it was more her demeanor. She seemed uncharacteristically unapproachable.
Millie’s face perked up as they stepped into the cluster of chairs. “Lovely, you’re here.”
Anna regarded her as she took a seat on a settee. “What is the matter?”
Millie winced. “Nothing. I am perfectly well. Why? Did someone say something?”
Henry didn’t think he should encroach on... whatever this was about. “Enjoy the performances. I’ll not intrude on this family--”
“Oh nonsense,” Millie interrupted. “Anna, scoot over so Carrington has a place to sit.”
Anna’s gaze narrowed, but she moved to the other end of the settee, giving Henry ample room to sit beside her.
He sat a very respectable distance away from her, careful to not touch her in any way, lest the gossipmongers feed for the season. What did they expect him to do? Rub his hand up her thigh in the middle of the music room? Ravish her on the settee for everyone to witness?
Millie and Anna had continued their sparring, though in low enough tones that anyone further away than a few steps could not overhear.
Two ladies appeared beside Millie’s chair. They looked familiar, but Henry didn’t recall their names.
“Miss Newbury, we are quite excited to hear your performance this evening!” one of them stated with a falsely sweet smile.
Millie put on a brave face. “I don’t think I am up to it this evening.”
The second lady pouted. “But we’ve already written your name
down. I know Mr. Pennex was so looking forward to hearing you play.”
Millie’s smile didn’t falter. “Oh, um, I might be up to playing. Once my brother comes. We always perform together.” Henry hoped Millie’s distress wasn’t as apparent to the two ladies as it was to him.
The first lady smiled sweetly. “That sounds lovely. We cannot wait!”
The two ladies moved away to find their own seats.
Anna leaned towards her. “Millie, what was that about?”
Millie shrugged. “I might have said I was a superb pianist.”
“Oh heavens.” Anna looked worried.
“It’s no bother, truly.” Millie stretched upward and peered across the room searching for someone. “Percy will be along in a moment, and all will be put to rights.”
“I don’t think Lord Rycroft is joining the music performances this evening,” Henry offered.
Millie paled. “He is not?”
“I left him earlier in a card room, just after the port. He didn’t indicate he was to join us.”
Millie shrunk a little in her seat. “This is not good.”
Anna pursed her lips but before she could reply, Mr. Pennex stopped at Millie’s chair.
“Good evening, Miss Newbury,” he said with a nod. “Lady Rycroft. Lord Carrington.”
“Good evening, Mr. Pennex,” Anna said. “Won’t you join us?”
He shook his head a little too quickly, and Henry wondered if he didn’t hurt his neck with the movement. “No, no, that is alright. I just wanted to say hello.” He looked at Millie. “Hello ,Miss Newbury.”
Millie glanced up at him hesitantly. “Hello, Mr. Pennex.”
“I hear you are to play for us this evening?”
“Oh, um...”
“I am looking forward to it.” He offered her an encouraging smile. He looked at them each again and, rather awkwardly, scurried away.
Millie looked as though she was going to be sick. “This is cannot be happening.”