Chapter 21
She avoided him the rest of the day and evening. The children made an excellent excuse. She had to take two of the boys into the village for new boots. When she got back, there had been an incident.
Tommy had got upset about something. One of the other boys had called him names. Since the incident with Miss Davis, Tommy had been somewhat on edge. Of course, the child had just recently lost his mother and was grief stricken. Lucy knew this and was taking it into consideration. But running through a flower bed and damaging all the flowers in his upset at being called a name was not appropriate behaviour. It had taken her and two of the older boys two hours to find Tommy. Eventually she found him hiding behind an old shed in the orchard.
She approached him cautiously, worried he might run away. She could run fast enough, but with skirts hampering her, she was sure a boy could easily outrun her.
“Tommy, I hear there has been a problem today.”
“I never done it, Miss Butterworth.”
“You never done what? I mean did not do what?”
The child frowned at her and folded his arms. “Wotever they says I done.”
“I was told a couple of the boys called you names.”
He nodded.
“That was not nice of them. They are helping to clean out the stables tonight and tomorrow night because of their behaviour.”
Tommy’s scowl turned into a grin—a grin of pure malice.
“They deserve it. They was not nice.”
“No, they were not. However…” Tommy’s gaze turned wary. “You did some damage to the flower bed.”
“I were upset.”
Lucy sighed and leaned over, removed his cap and ruffled his hair. “I know you were, Tommy but you cannot just vandalise the property of Lord Whitsnow. The gardener put a lot of work into that flower bed.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“Well, young man, you will have plenty of time to think. Tomorrow morning at seven o’clock, you will be out of your bed and helping the gardener put right the flower bed and you will be doing any other tasks he needs to be done. You will be working for him for the next seven days. Do I make myself clear?”
Tommy gave a big weary sigh. “Do I ‘ave to?”
“Yes, you do. Unless you prefer cleaning out the stables. I could make that a fortnight.”
Tommy pouted. “Aye, fine.”
“Do not pout at me Tommy Baird. You are a lucky young man. Others would have been whipped for that sort of behaviour.”
He nodded and got to his feet. “I suppose I’m not getting supper.”
“You suppose wrong. You had better hurry because it shall soon be over.”
Lucy ate dinner in the nursery that evening, passing on her apologies that she would not be down for dinner. After seeing the children to bed, she went to her room and tried to read. She was unable to concentrate but she kept trying until around ten o’clock when she gave up and changed into her night rail.
A little later a knock came at her bedchamber door. It could not be Lord Whitsnow. He would knock at the adjoining door so she got up to answer it.
To her surprise, as handsome as ever and carrying a carafe of wine and two glasses, was Lord Whitsnow.
“May I come in?”
“Why are you using this door?”
He looked up and down the corridor. “Just let me in, please.”
She opened the door to allow him entry.
“Would you have answered if I had come to the adjoining door?”
“Probably not.”
“Well then. Why are you avoiding me?”
“I am not.”
“You are a dreadful liar, Lucy. Wine?”
She nodded. She may as well. “What do you want, Robert?”
“Robert now, is it. Not Robbie, Not ‘My Lord?’ Your moods are so hard to read, Miss, Butterworth, or is it Lucy, or my love?”
“Robert!”
“What did I say to upset you? Do you want to have my child?”
“No.”
“Then I do not understand.”
“There is nothing to understand. Please do not think I am upset.”
“Are you upset that I released on your skin?”
“No. Robert, I am not upset. I just think it best that we do not share any further intimacies.”
“Why. Are you not attracted to me? Not aroused by me? You felt like you were aroused earlier. Very aroused.”
“You know that is not the case. Please Robert.”
“Last time you said that, it was because you wanted me to fuck you harder and faster.”
“Robert!” She could not believe he had used such a word in front of her. She was aware her voice was almost a shriek.
He ran a hand through his hair and scowled belligerently at her. He reminded her of Tommy earlier that day. It seemed some men never stopped being boys. “You drive me to it. You make me insane with need then you say, “Oh we shan’t do it again.” As if I can just stop being aroused every time I see you. Snuff out the feeling as one snuffs out a candle.” He waved a hand dismissively then as if he could not bear to discuss the matter further. Then he drained his glass and refilled it. “I hear there was an incident with one of your miscreants today.”
“He is not a miscreant. He is a boy. A very unhappy little boy who only recently lost his mother. And yes, he has ruined one of your flowerbeds, My Lord.”
“Oh God, we’re back to My Lord. I hope you tanned his hide for him.”
“Indeed I did not. I do not believe in corporal punishment.”
“Never did me any harm,” muttered Robert.
“That is a matter of opinion, My Lord.”
Robert lowered his glass from which he had been about to take a hearty swig.
“What the devil is that supposed to mean.”
“Whatever you wish it to mean, My Lord.”
“Stop talking in riddles and stop bloody My Lording me.”
“You are a belligerent drunk, Robert, I should like you to leave.”
“I am not bloody drunk. I am just… damned annoyed.”
“You were horrible to your sister when she was growing up. Heaven knows what would have become of her if she had not met that lovely Lord Beattie.”
“Beattie’s an arse, but he is good to Em so he’s a decent arse,” Robert mused.
“You are rude and have a sense of entitlement.”
“I’m an earl. I am entitled. Do you not understand how the aristocracy works?”
Lucy sighed. “It is a mystery how you can be so nice one minute and such… such…”
“An arse?” Robert supplied.
“Yes, an arse the next.”
“Hmm, yes.”
“Robert, how much have you had to drink.”
“Oh, some wine at dinner, some port after and a few brandies before. I had the brandy because I missed you. I missed that little girl too. Eleanor. Where is she.”
“In bed.”
“Does she still like music?”
“Yes.”
“You like music, do you not?”
“I do, very much so.”
“Hmm, Eleanor must take her love of music from you, even though she cannot hear.”
Lucy stilled for a moment. He was drunk. He was talking nonsense. He had not suspected. He meant she had learned her love of music from Lucy.
“Maybe,” Lucy said quietly.
“Pretty little thing. All that red hair.” He looked at her then and blew out a breath. “What was I saying.”
“I think you were saying you were going to go to your bedchamber,” she said tartly.
“Yes. Take me to your bed, fair Lucy.”
“No, you go to your bed and I shall go to mine.”
“I prefer yours. It is closer. He rose and started to unbutton the fall of his breeches.
“What are you doing, My Lord?”
“Taking you to bed.”
“No. You go to your bed.”
“Hmm, I like yours better.” He stumbled over to the bed and landed on it just as he slid his breeches over his backside He kicked off his shoes and lifted his legs onto the bed. He pushed himself onto the bed and lay with his head on the pillow. “Damn, my cravat will choke me to death.”
Lucy looked at the drunk lord, half naked on her bed and sighed. It looked as if she was sharing her bed tonight whether she liked it or not. She leaned over and unknotted his cravat.
“Darling, no need to undress me fully, just ride my prick as though you were riding a stallion,” he murmured. She looked at the rather limp looking appendage and smiled. He really was in his cups.
“Lift your head so I can unwind this cravat, Robert, else I may accidentally throttle you in the night.” His eyes popped open.
“You would not.”
She chuckled. “Perhaps not. As long as you behave yourself.”
“I think I may be a little drunk. I think Em told me to go to bed. Am I in bed?”
“You appear to be in my bed.”
“I am? You should join me.” Lucy rolled her eyes. He had not seemed so drunk when he first came into her room. She glanced at the carafe of wine he had brought in. Oh! It appeared he had drunk all but the glass she had just sipped. She was not going to be able to convince him to go to his own bed. He was far too drunk. “I have something to do before I join you.”
Lucy grabbed a candlestick and hurried into Lord Whitsnow’s bedchamber. She quickly drew the curtains around the bed and banked the fire. When she arrived back in her own bedchamber it was to the sound of light snoring. She laughed to herself and grabbed a blanket from the chair. After leaving the candle on the bedside table, she draped the blanket over Robert’s half-naked form. She then blew out the candles around her own room, except for the one at her side of the bed, drew the curtains around her bed and banked the fire. As she climbed into bed, Robert rolled on to his side, murmuring something incoherent. Lucy blew out the candle, assured herself the curtains were properly in place and slipped under the covers.
“Lucy!” Robert’s hand slipped around her waist as he pulled her against him.
“Robert, you must sleep.”
“I just wanted to check it was you. It smelled like you. You smell lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“I think you’re giving me an erection.”
“Robbie, you are drunk.”
“I know but I just wanted you to know you are beautiful and I find you terribly arousing even when I am in my cups.”
“That is nice. Now go to sleep.”
“I can protect you both if you marry me you know.”
Lucy froze. “Truly?” It was the only thing she could think to say that did not repeat what Robert had said.
“Shh! Sleep.” Something wet grazed the back of her neck. His lips presumably. What did he mean?
“Robert?”
A snore was her answer.
Lucy lay awake for a long time wondering what the devil he meant. Both! Did he know? Was it just the ramblings of a drunken man? What was going on? Should she confront him or leave well alone?
It was the early hours when she heard Robert stumble out of bed, cursing and muttering about what an ass he was. She pretended to be asleep when he leaned over her and pressed a sweet kiss to her neck.
“I am sorry, my love. Whatever I said or did, I apologise for. God, you deserve better and you shall receive it. Just… I just wish you would tell me the truth. Please don’t wait until I am asleep to confess.” He chuckled without mirth. “Look at me. I have no right to judge. I get drunk to pluck up the courage to ask you the truth then… what? I have no idea. Please forgive me if I crossed a line last night. I shall speak to you when you wake. We shall get this out in the open. Of that you can be assured.”
She could feel the pressure of him on the bed ease and then he spoke again. “Devil take it. I am pathetic. Speaking to a sleeping woman because I lack the courage to confront you when you are awake. Sleep well my love. We shall speak later.”