Chapter 11
The boys were sleeping, their skins white with lotion to help with the itching having convinced themselves they had scurvy from being pirates on the high seas. A wooden sword lay at Henry’s side and the boy lay with the neck of his nightshirt open and his hair swept back off his face. Eleanor was on her lap, her eyes drooping as Lucy sang yet another song from her repertoire. She had just got to the bit of the song where the heroine and hero fell in love and decide to marry when she became aware of a large presence in the doorway. She looked up into dark-brown, amused eyes.
“Why do you laugh?” she asked, fear of waking her crotchety, ill charge preventing her from reacting the way she wished.
“I do not understand why you would sing to a deaf child. That is all.”
“She is still soothed by it. I know not why. Only when she is in contact with my body. She must feel the vibrations in my body. She has not become upset with me speaking instead of singing so perhaps I could just speak but I like singing. And I like to think singing works better than speaking.
“You seem to care a lot about her.”
“Of course I do.” She bristled. What was he implying? “I care about all the children under my care.”
“Yes, well, I know. Please, I am not suggesting anything, Lucy. It was merely an observation. Many people do not have such care for children who are not their own kith and kin.”
Lucy held back a grimace. Guilt ate at her whenever anyone said such a thing. She should care for every child under her charge equally but of course, because of circumstances and because of her deafness, she loved Eleanor in a very special way that she could never reveal to anyone.
“I do my best for all the children.”
“I can see,” he said, surveying the sleeping children. “Where are the rest?”
“We split them up between those who are ill and those who are well. It was your sister’s idea.”
“That seems sensible. I do hope she has made a sensible decision with regards to her own health.”
“I am sure she has. Lord Beattie would not allow her to take a foolish chance either.”
“I hope not but one never knows.”
“She had already been subjected to it by the time we discovered the problem.”
“That is true.”
“I think this little darling is asleep.” She started to struggle off the bed but Lord Whitsnow moved forward and plucked Eleanor from her arms. Cradling the child in one arm, he offered her his hand to help her up. He must be very strong. Eleanor was getting very heavy. The girl was no longer her baby.
Lucy shook the thought away. She should not get so attached to the children, especially Eleanor. It was dangerous. Once she was on her feet, Lord Whitsnow laid Eleanor on the bed and Lucy covered her, swiping hair away from her eyes before pressing a kiss to her warm red cheek.
“There is something special about her though, is there not?” he persisted, taking her upper arms in his large strong hands. It was as if his strength poured from him straight into her. For too long she had carried all her burdens alone. Her aunt’s flagging health had left her to raise the children in the last two years and she had so often wanted another adult to confide in.
Too many nights she had sat watching the last of the embers of the fire burn and wondered how life would have been if Eddie had come back from the war hale and hearty. But ifs and maybes were fruitless. And she’d made her bed and as a result, she now could not marry this kind, handsome, if sometimes brutish man, who was slipping his arms around her waist.
She glided out of the embrace, out of the door of the nursery and down the steps. There was now a nursemaid installed in the manor house who would listen out for the children. But Lucy had insisted on getting the children to sleep.
Dinner was a noisy and fun affair and the ladies chatted non-stop once they withdrew to the drawing room. Emily described all the gossip from town, especially the amazing story of the then Earl of Cindermaine being found to be his father’s servant, pretending to be his half-brother at said half-brother’s betrothal ball and falling in love with the lady in question. The earl had then married the American heiress days before his father found out. They escaped, his father ran in front of a carriage and horses and died and Cindermaine became a Duke. Lucy’s head was reeling with the story.
“It beggars belief,” said Lucy.
“You are not trying to explain the Duke of Hartsmere’s romance, are you, love,” said Beattie walking into the room.”
“I should like to see you explain it better.”
Beattie frowned. “Do you know the story of Cinderella?”
“Yes,” said Lucy.
“Think of it like that. Except Hartsmere was Cinderella, his brother Cedric was the ugly step sister and Kathleen was the Prince.”
“Who was the fairy God mother?” asked Emily.
Beattie sighed. “Well there was no magic, but I suppose, we were all the fairy godmothers. All his friends helped to bring them together.”
“Oh!” Emily blinked, her eyes shining with tears. “Oh Gideon, that is so wonderful.” She clasped her hands to her chest. “You really are so romantic.”
“Good God,” muttered Lord Whitsnow, curling his upper lip. Lucy glared at him. It was a lovely sentiment. Did the man have no soul? Was he completely bereft of any romance? “Had the former Duke not been run over by a coach and six, the damned man should have been horse-whipped for how he treated his son. I never liked him anyway. Pompous ass and always flaunting his mistress around town. No manners at all.”
“They were in love.”
“Emily, my dear, you will insist on giving even the vilest creature the benefit of the doubt. In this case, there is no excuse for his behaviour.”
“He is right, darling. Remember when Gabriel, when he was still the Earl of Cindermaine, turned up at our door dressed as a servant and even our own butler nearly did not admit him.”
Emily sighed. “Well yes. That was unfortunate.”
“He was the heir to a dukedom and our butler looked at him as if he may have trod in horse manure.”
“Fine. I agree. The former Duke was a horrid man.”
“Five and twenty years,” said Lord Whitsnow.
“What is five and twenty years?”
“That is how long it has taken for you to say something remotely nasty about anyone, Emily. Congratulations, you have matured sufficiently to be a jaded member of the ton.”
Emily laughed. “Once I am as jaded as you, I shall worry, dear brother.”
“That shall never happen.”
“Then we shall have to bring you back from the brink and make you fall head over ears in love.”
He seemed to sober at that and looked directly at Lucy. “Mayhap you shall, Emily. Mayhap you shall.”
Lucy needed to get out of this room. It suddenly seemed terribly hot and oppressive. Perhaps the spring weather was really taking hold and they did not require such a big fire in the evening. Perhaps she had not had the same thing as the children when… six years ago.?
She sighed, patting absentmindedly at her flat stomach, her eyes drifting down to Emily’s rounding one. It must be lovely to be able to share the joy of an impending birth with one’s family. Little green tendrils of jealousy tugged at her heart. She knew they were wrong. She was happy for Emily. Truly she was. But her own heart ached so badly. She thought of the children upstairs, in bed. Were the ones with the measles sleeping or was the nursemaid up and tending to their fevers. Would she know how to deal with Eleanor if Eleanor woke and became scared? The woman knew where her room was if necessary and so did all the other servants. She had to stop worrying.
“I think I shall retire for the evening.”
“Are you well?” Robert asked. She was thinking of him as Robert. This was not good.
“I am fine. Just tired. I shall go to bed and rest.”
“Let me accompany you to you chamber. I wish to turn in for the night too.”
“No please, do not cut your evening short on my account.”
“I am weary and would like my own bed. Besides, I wish to get up early as I have much estate work to do.”
Lucy sighed. He was giving her no choice. He offered his sleeve and she took it and left the drawing room after bidding Emily and Lord Beattie and good night.
“They think we are heading off for a tryst,” she reprimanded her companion as they headed up the stairs, lit only by the candles burning in the brass wall sconces.
“I do not much care what they think. They shall not gossip. They are family. Besides, mayhap this is a tryst.”
“My Lord...”
“Robert. I command you to call me Robert.”
She raised an eyebrow at him.
“You command me?”
“Yes. I do. I damned well do. You shall not do it unless I command you so if I must command you in order for you to see me as more than just a peer of the realm, then that is what I shall do.”
“What would you have me see you as?”
“A man. A man who desires you. A man who wishes to kiss you, who aches to touch you, who yearns for your touch. God’s teeth, Lucy, you have no idea the torture having you near and yet so far away has become.”
“That is a very heartfelt speech, my...Robert. But if you think it shall encourage me to reconsider your suit, then you are very much mistaken. I shall not marry you. And an affair is out of the question. I must be a beacon of decency for the children.”
“You will be much more a beacon of decency if you are a countess... my countess.”
“I do not understand where your sudden fascination for me has come from. I have attended church every Sunday and when you are in the country, you are there at least some Sundays. Yet you have never professed undying love for me.”
“I do not profess it now. It is lust. I do not pretend it cannot turn into a deep affection. I admire you greatly. But I have not been hounded by female relatives until now to take a wife. To head to London and impale myself upon the sword that is the marriage mart. I wish to avoid such torture. You happened along at the perfect time.”
“So, I am just a convenience.”
They had arrived at her bedroom door and Robert pushed his hand through his dark, slightly long hair and frowned.
“No. Yes. Well, initially I suppose you were. But Lucy, it is more than that. You intrigue me. You excite me. You arouse me. You have a smart, luscious mouth and sometimes I wish to just kiss your irreverent tone right out of you.”
“I do not believe you could change from just thinking of me as a convenience to being...” She floundered for the correct words. He was so bold in how he spoke and while she could at times be bold, now, in the gloomy hallway, outside her bedchamber, she felt small and insecure. "I don't believe you feel lust for me. It is simply a lack of female companionship.”
“Really?”
“Y-y-yes.” He looked like a picture she had once seen in a book of a ravenous wolf about to pounce on its prey. “Really.”
“If I wanted just female companionship, I would be lusting after Miss Davis too, would I not?”
“I…I would not know.”
“Oh, I would know, my dear and I can assure you that Miss Davis, sweet as she may be does not have my prick standing to attention the way just the sight of you does.”
“That is wholly inappropriate,” she said, her cheeks flaming as she dug deep to find her objection for his use of language.”
He stepped closer and lowered his head to her. “Yes, it is, rather. But you like it. That pretty blush on your cheeks tells me how much. And the way you’re licking your lips right now tells me you want a kiss from me. Right here, right now in this hallway.”
“Anyone could see.”
“Only you and I have rooms in this hallway. And no servant would dare to divulge if they saw me kissing you.”
He lifted her chin with his finger and captured her lips with his. It started as a gentle, teasing caress, coaxing her to open to him. She lifted her hands onto his broad, strong shoulders, insinuating herself farther into his embrace, and he obliged, wrapping one arm around her waist and spearing the finger of the other into her coiffure. He tilted her head, allowing him to deepen the kiss, giving a satisfied little grunt of pleasure. The hand on her waist moved down to her bottom and she recalled a long-ago time, a groping hand and an almost forgettable fumble. But the owner of this hand knew what he was doing—how to lift her and press her against his hard length. She was on tiptoe now, her fingers curling in the hair at the nape of his neck. His tongue was lashing in and out of her mouth. They both made little murmurs of appreciation. How had it never been this good before, with Eddie? It had been nice with him.
Oh, who was she kidding. It had been painful, and it had been in the cowshed. Not even the stables. And it had felt nothing like this.
Robert’s mouth left hers and she felt bereft. He trailed little kisses along her jaw to her ear, sucking her lobe into his mouth before biting on it tenderly. Then he pulled his hand from her hair and pressed her against the door jamb.
That was it then. It was over. The noise of a door opening made her gasp.
“Shh! It is only your bedchamber door. Come inside. You are correct. The hallway is no place for kissing.”
“My Lord…”
“Robert,” he said, moving her around the door jamb and up against the wall of her bedchamber before clicking the door shut. “Much better. Stay there until I light a candle.”
He walked to the fireplace and picked a spill from the mantel. He lit it in the fire and raised it to a candle, lighting a couple more candles in the room before blowing the twisted piece of paper out.
Lucy was having second thoughts watching him prowl around her bedchamber. What had she been thinking. The truth was, she had not been thinking. She had been… reacting. But it had been very nice. More than nice.
Robert gave her no more time for wool gathering. She was back in his arms and his lips were on her neck.
“I believe I was about here,” he said as he backed her up against the wall.
“My Lord…”
“Robert,” he murmured against her neck as he placed a hand over her breast. His thumb circled her nipple and she completely forgot what she was going to say. Need moved from her breast to her core. The crown of her head hit the wall as she moaned. “Oh my!”
“Dammit woman, you’ll injure yourself.” He whirled her around, started kissing her and backed her towards the bed. She broke away from the kiss.
“I can’t…”
“We’re not. Just kissing… and touching. But so much more comfortable on a bed.” His thumb brushed her nipple again. She was sure she should protest to the idea of moving towards the bed, but the touching was ni-i-ice. So very nice. She caught his head in her hands and clamped her mouth to his as she sat on the bed. They somehow managed to half-tumble, half-lay down on the bed. He straddled her and kneeled up, trying to shrug himself out of his coat. It was so well made and form fitting, he scowled and started to mutter profanities. Lucy giggled.
“Turn and give me your cuff and I shall help.” He did so, and the coat started to come off. She tugged on the other cuff and the garment slid from his shoulders. He tossed it to the other side of the bed, but Lucy felt braver with his back to her. She sat up, pressing her breasts to his spine and placing her arms around his waist. She took great pleasure in running her hands over his chest. “Just touching?”
“And kissing,” he confirmed, his voice ragged. She could feel him dragging air into his lungs and the steady thud of his heart against her cheek. Was her heart thundering like this? Of course it must be. She was terrified and excited and aroused and standing on a precipice that she knew she must jump from or be forever wondering. Just kissing… and touching. There was nothing just about this. She unbuttoned his waistcoat as he moved her hands down his chest and onto his belly, feeling the muscles tighten as her hands dipped lower. “Lucy!” His voice was almost reverent.
The side of her hand hit off the head of his hard length through his silk evening breeches and he sucked in a breath. She wanted to ask if she had hurt him, but she knew he would soon tell her if she did. She curled her fingers around the thick crown, her thumb exploring the smooth bulbous head and then the ridges where it met the shaft. Moving her hand down the shaft she revelled in the size and girth of it. She was not sure if memory deceived her or if Robert really was bigger than Eddie had been.
A large hand closed around her wrist and Robert lifted her palm to his lips, pressing a kiss to it before whipping himself around onto his hands and knees and hovering above her.
“Enough. A man only has so much self-control.”
“I thought you wanted kissing and touching.”
He dropped onto his elbows and placed a sweet, chaste kiss to her lips.
“I did. I do.” He sighed heavily, then he pressed his erection against her core. “I want this to be inside you and I cannot. Not until you agree to be my wife. I shall not take your innocence, Lucy, not if you will not marry me.”
Lucy turned her head away from him. If only he knew. She was already so terribly ruined. But if he knew, he would not be lusting after her at all. He would be disgusted, just like the author of that note.
“How much money do you keep at the estate?” she asked.
Robert frowned. “That is rather an abrupt change of subject. Why do you ask?”
“I need five hundred pounds.”
Robert coughed. “What on earth for? Have you forgotten to pay the butcher since the time of Christ?”
“It is nothing. I just need it, but I can hardly go to the bank all the way in York. Besides, my aunt’s funds have not been properly settled upon me and I need my brother’s signature to release them and he will ask why I need five hundred pounds.”
“What makes you think that I shall not.”
She swallowed hard. “Because you are a decent fellow and do not think me an imbecile. You know I am capable of running my own life. I have the funds to pay you back.”
“No doubt but I do not keep that amount of cash here. It would be a dream come true for a thief.”
“I thought you would have a safe.”
“I do but I still do not require that amount of money. Well I do sometimes keep that amount on hand, but funds are low because I have been in Cumberland for so long. Why do you need it?”
“It does not matter. It is fine. It was just a silly scheme. For the children.”
“For five hundred pounds you could buy a house.”
“Please, forget I asked. I shall find a way.”
“When do you require it?”
“By the first day of May.”
“I shall speak to my man of business and see if we can arrange something. I cannot promise anything, but I shall do my best.”
“Thank you,” she breathed. Oh dear. She may just have fallen a little in love with him.
“Well, now that your talk of money has calmed my ardour, I shall leave. But I promise you, Lucy Butterworth, once you are mine, no talk of money, estate business or anything else shall stop me from thoroughly pleasuring you. Just looking at your breasts is making me hard again. But I am going to go and sneak through that connecting door to my own bedchamber.”
“That door leads to your chamber.”
“Well there are a couple of rooms in between. Your dressing room, my dressing room and a sitting room. The key is in the sitting room door on your side. I cannot come in without your permission.”
“Oh, I see.”
“So, you are perfectly safe.”
“I… I did not think otherwise m… Robert.”
He bent his head and kissed her, a slow languid kiss, then he lifted his head and pushed onto his knees.
“Thank you,” he said, adjusting himself in his breeches.
“For what?”
He hesitated. “I… have not been touched by a woman for months. You can have no idea how pleasurable it was.”
“Even through your breeches?” He closed his eyes briefly and covered the bulge that appeared to be growing again.
“Even then. Goodnight Lucy. I shall pull the bell for your maid as I leave.”