Chapter 9
She was depraved. It was the only answer. Every time she was near the Earl she wanted to kiss him or wrap her arms around him or let him do wicked things to her. And when he had offered the other day to inspect her most intimate area, she had been tempted. Even though she would never have done it, he had been right. The wicked part of her wanted it.
For two days she had allowed him to spend time with Eleanor, teaching her to ride on an old side-saddle which had been used by his sister. He was also teaching the boys to ride at a separate time. He had mentioned that being able to ride a horse would give them the skills to work in stables and with blacksmiths. She had not disagreed.
For the most part however, she had done her level best to keep the children to a routine in the schoolroom at the top of the old manor house and to avoid His Lordship where possible.
This evening, Miss Davis had retired immediately after dinner with a headache but for Lucy, it was far too early, and she would not sleep. Tea had been served in the drawing room and she was curled up reading a book, her slippers lying abandoned on the floor, her stockinged feed tucked under her. When the door opened, she assumed it was Miss Davis having forgotten her embroidery.
“I doubt you need to worry about His Lordship finding it and finishing off that flower before you get up in the morning, Susan. You could have just left it,” she said with a chuckle.
“Am I renowned for eating flowers?” a very male, slightly amused voice asked.
Lucy nearly broke her neck wrenching it around to see the man who stood next to the other chair next to the fire.
“My Lord, I thought you were Miss Davis back for her embroidery.”
“Sorry to disappoint. It is just me.”
“Then I should go.”
“Why?”
“It is improper for us to be alone, in the evening in a room together.”
“And you are naïve enough to think that everyone in Cumberland does not already think you are warming my bed? Come, Lucy. You are not a stupid woman.”
“I… No, I do not think that. They cannot think that. Why else would I have brought Miss Davis?”
“Because it was expected. Because you wanted to give this an air of respectability even though you knew fine how scandalous it is.”
“You knew this was inappropriate.”
“So did you. He sat down and lifted a cup gesturing that she, as the lady of the house should pour it.
Lucy stood, her face hot with shame and tears burning behind her eyes.
“Pour your own god-damned tea. You tricked me.” She started to move to the door, but he was quicker grabbing her by the waist and spinning her against his body.
“No, I did not trick you. You could have said no at any time. You could even have bargained to live in the dower house. Did that not even cross your mind?”
“N-n-no.”
“If you had truly not wanted to be here, you would have looked for other alternatives. You’re an intelligent woman. Tell me, Lucy, honestly. What do you want. Right now. Right at this second. What is the deepest desire of your heart.”
Lucy’s eyes were drawn to his lips, soft looking, surrounded by stubble, not mocking.
“This is too much, My Lord.”
“Then show me what you want. Take it.”
Lucy could not resist. She placed a hand on each of his cheeks and drew his lips to hers, angling her head at the last moment and capturing his lips in an open-mouthed kiss. Lord Whitsnow groaned as one of his hands slipped down onto her bottom to draw her against him and the other moved into her hair to guide her head. One of her own hands moved to the nape of his neck as the other slid under his coat and around his waist. The kiss deepened, and Lucy realised that while she had been kissed before, it had not been like this. Whitsnow was desperate, but then, so was she. The hard length of him was pressing against her belly and she liked the feel of it and the promise of it.
Oh, but this was all too much. She was just about the start panicking when Lord Whitsnow withdrew from the kiss, panting and moved her head onto his chest.
“Good God, Lucy, are you trying to send me to Bedlam. A man only has so much self-control.”
“My Lord, I… this changes nothing. I cannot marry you.”
“I wish two things. That you would call me Robert and that you would tell me why you think you cannot marry me.”
“It is not appropriate for me to call you Robert.”
“But it is appropriate for your belly to be nestled against my hard, aching prick?”
“Pardon?”
“Oh, come now, you cannot tell me you are unaware of it. It keeps jerking against you because it thinks it is getting some action with a woman at long last.”
“When you say a woman, what other action does it get?”
As soon as the words were out, she regretted asking. That was personal.
“Well, men need a release regularly, so I take it in my hand and I stroke it. But until the day you gave me a dressing down in the street, I have been doing it with thoughts of faceless women in my head. Since that day, however, you have occupied my thoughts and I have fantasised about you as I have brought myself to orgasm.”
“I…I am not sure how to feel about that.”
“Feel flattered. If I am honest, I have never fantasised about a particular woman before. You have beguiled me. I see you and I become aroused. I talk to you and I am enchanted. We swap verbal barbs and I dare to dream that I can seduce you.”
“But you cannot. It can never be, Robert. It is a foolish dream.”
“Why. God damn it, woman.”
“Please, Robert. Do not make this harder than it is.”
“Believe me sweetling, it is as hard as it can get with you pressed against it.”
“You are incorrigible.”
He pressed a sweet kiss to her lips. “I like to think so.” Then he pressed his lips to hers again, this time cupping her breast and running his thumb lightly over the straining nipple. She moaned into the kiss before stepping back. This was so different to her previous experience. The previous experience had been mechanical and considered. This seemed so much more organic and natural. And she could so easily get swept away in the moment with this man and she could not allow it to happen.
“This has to end,” she said, stepping back. “I shall take the children back home tomorrow.”
“Stay, please. You promised me a month to convince you to marry me.”
“I cannot and will not marry you.”
“Why?”
“You do not need to know the reason why.”
“I shall find out.”
“No, you shall not. I am going to bed.” She was no longer in the mood for him.
“I shall walk you to your bedchamber.”
“There is no need.”
“There is every need.”
She swiped her slippers from the floor and headed to the door, but he was there holding it open for her. They walked in silence upstairs. When they got to her chamber she muttered a good night to him, but he placed a hand on the door jamb.
“No kiss?”
“No, My Lord.”
He lifted his hand with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, if you hear any long groans or shouts of your name, it is just me pleasuring myself. Pay it no heed. Sleep well, my sweet.” Then he turned and sauntered to his own room. It was then she realised her room was next to his. He did not sleep in the master chamber.