by Merry Farmer
“My brother will be happy,” Harry went on, sliding his hands from Ginny’s waist to the curve of her backside. “He and all my cousins have been worried that they’ll be out of a job, now that the Carleen mine is exhausted.”
“Lord Peter wouldn’t let that happen,” Ginny insisted. She finished unbuttoning his vest and spread it open, then toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “He cares about his dependents.”
“He cares about all of us,” Harry agreed, staring at Ginny’s lips. His hands made their way from her backside, up her sides, and across her chest to fiddle with the buttons of her high collar. “We’re lucky to have an employer like him.”
Ginny hummed, then sucked in a quick breath as he popped the top button of her collar free. “Gwen doesn’t approve of the informality we all have here, but she’s always been a bit of a prig.”
“I’m glad that’s not a family trait,” Harry said with a wicked grin. He undid the next three buttons of Ginny’s blouse, spreading her collar open, then leaning forward to kiss her neck. The heat of her skin drove him wild.
“It’s definitely not,” she sighed, tilting her head back to give him better access. “Some of us don’t mind being a little naughty once in a while.”
“Hmm. Good.” Harry undid a few more buttons, exposing Ginny’s chemise and corset, and the tops of her breasts, which he proceeded to kiss. He adjusted his hands to hold them from underneath, brushing his thumbs across her nipples through the fabric.
Ginny sighed with pleasure, and Harry angled his hips up into hers. Men in positions like his were supposed to go for good girls, nice, sweet girls who would make good wives and mothers. But there had been sparks from the moment he and Ginny had met years ago. He’d been reckless and a little wild back then, and had kissed her behind the stable one afternoon. But instead of getting the slap he probably deserved, Ginny had kissed him back.
That in itself had been a surprise and delight. Especially since it wasn’t the only time. But there’d been a lazy summer afternoon, not unlike the one they were in, three years ago when he’d been particularly full of himself while they were fooling around down by the sea. He’d asked her to show him her tits, and, Lord help him, she had. Just opened her blouse, unhooked her corset, and pulled down her chemise to show him two of the most perfect, soft orbs he’d ever seen. She had rose-colored nipples that he still dreamed about. Best of all, she’d cooed when he cupped her breasts, telling him she liked it. At least, until he crossed the line and pinched her nipples. Then he’d gotten the smack he deserved.
But ever since then, for more than three years, when no one was looking, and when they were both feeling particularly frisky, there had been kisses, there had been touching, and there’d even been a borderline embarrassing night when he opened his trousers and let her stroke him until he came. But that was as far as they’d gone. Which was a bloody miracle as far as Harry was concerned.
He wanted more. He wanted so much more. And not just of the carnal variety. Ginny threaded her fingers through his hair as he kissed the tops of her breasts, then scooped a hand into her corset to free her nipple. Which he promptly closed his mouth around to suckle.
“Harry,” she panted, her hips moving restlessly against his. “That feels so good.”
“I’m glad you like it,” he whispered, blowing across her damp nipple and making her shiver.
He wanted to see her completely naked—something he still hadn’t done, in spite of having touched what he hadn’t yet seen—and splayed in his bed. But with a ring on her finger after standing up in front of the vicar. He wanted to see her grow round with his children, spend Christmases and summer holidays with her. He wanted to grow old and feeble with her and reminisce about when they were naughty young bounders, years ago.
But not once in all their years of fooling around had Ginny ever indicated that she wanted more than his hands and mouth on her. Not once had they talked about anything other than Starcross business. Not once had they even acknowledged the things they did to each other.
“Will you be attending the meeting?” he asked, letting her breast go and leaning back to catch his breath. If he didn’t steady himself, he’d do something he’d regret, like spilling his heart out and telling Ginny how much he loved her.
“Of course,” she answered as if she were standing in the servant’s hall sipping tea instead of straddling him, one breast out, it’s nipple red from his teasing. She made no attempt to cover herself either. “I’m sure Lady Mariah will need my help.”
“I’m sure she will.” Harry rested his hands on her waist, wondering how he could prolong their time together.
“Oh, and Lord Peter also got a letter from Mr. Egbert in London.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. It sounds like there is going to be a staff shuffle between Starcross Castle and Dunsford House.”
Harry tensed, his chest squeezing. “Are you thinking of transferring to London?”
“No,” Ginny laughed. “I’m Lady Mariah’s maid now. Which means that when she goes to London, I’ll go.” She tilted her head to the side with a far-off look. “I suppose that means that if she and Lord Peter travel, say, to the continent, I’ll get to travel with them. What a splendid thought.”
Something inside Harry withered. “You wouldn’t mind being away from Cornwall?”
“Of course not,” she laughed. She rested her forearms on his shoulders and leaned forward, giving him an excellent view of her breasts. “You know how much I’ve wanted to travel.”
“I know.” He worked to keep the disappointment out of his voice. Travel could only take her away from him.
“You want to travel too, don’t you?” she asked, eyes gleaming with what he tried not to interpret as hope. He couldn’t let himself hope, not when Ginny was so clear about what she wanted, and what she didn’t.
Harry shook his head. “I’m a homebody. You know that. My family is in Cornwall, my whole life. I like it here.”
Her face pinched, and she leaned back, rubbing her hands over his shoulders and chest. “But surely you want a little bit of adventure.”
He didn’t like the tension that was growing between them, so he grinned and circled his hands across her back. “I love adventure,” he said, pulling her toward him for a quick, light kiss. “I’ve got my hands full of adventure right now.”
He kissed her harder, but his insides squirmed. The last thing he wanted to do was let Ginny know what she did to him. The second he was exposed as a romantic fool, she wouldn’t be hot for him, she’d pity him. Then he’d have to deal with a thousand excuses from her about how they were just friends, how even though they enjoyed each other physically, there were rules and lines that couldn’t be crossed. Lines they’d never talked about but knew were there. Her kisses were far too sweet for him to give them up, and the way she wriggled her hips against his would keep him up all night. He wasn’t willing to lose what little he had.
“Mr. Pond, I think Bear doesn’t like me again.”
Jimmy’s call tore Harry and Ginny apart, giving them a split second to untangle themselves before Jimmy stumbled into the room. Harry jerked to the side as Ginny rushed to put her breasts and bodice back in order, her back to Jimmy.
“Oh, sorry.” Jimmy dashed out of the room after one glimpse of what he’d walked in on. He was barely old enough to understand what he was seeing, but likely knew it was wrong.
Harry sighed and rubbed his face. “I’ll set him straight,” he told Ginny, straightening his shirt and rebuttoning his vest. There was nothing he could do about the bulge in his trousers, though.
Ginny giggled, turning toward him once she was covered and pressing a hand to her mouth. She stepped closer to Harry and whispered, “You know half the staff knows we canoodle now and then, don’t you?”
Harry’s eyes went wide. “Do Mr. Snyder and Mrs. Wilson know?”
She lifted to her tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “They have to catch us in the act to dismiss either of us.”
“And they won’t,” Harry finished her thought.
“Not if I can help it,” Ginny said. One more peck on his cheek and she dashed out of the room.
Harry grinned and shook his head, but his mirth quickly died. In its place, his heart ached. He stared longingly at the door. He would have given anything to be the man Ginny wanted, but he wasn’t. She wanted adventure. She wanted excitement. All he had was home and love.
Chapter 2
The meeting for the miners and their families was organized quickly, which meant that Ginny spent every free second of her time helping Lady Mariah settle on menus for snacks, calculate how many tables and chairs would be needed, and gather blankets for the families who didn’t have one to sit on as Mr. Adler, the surveyor, delivered his report on the sloping lawn outside of the west garden. Once those things were done, she moved on to helping Mrs. Wilson, the housekeeper, organize the fresh crop of maids—many of whom had no idea what working in a grand house entailed—and ensuring that the house was tidy for any guests that might need to come inside. Not that many would.
The work left her no time to sneak out to the stables to visit Harry again. But that didn’t stop her from daydreaming about the heated moments they stole together. It didn’t matter whether it was walking to church with him—and the rest of the household—on Sundays, staying up late to talk over the day, or naughty bits of time in his office, like the other day, being around Harry made her happy. At least until he said something that reminded her he wasn’t interested in anything more than a kiss and a tickle.
“Are you going to ask to go to the London house?” Poppy asked Ginny on the day of the meeting as they helped Lady Mariah and Miss Victoria set up the refreshment tables. Poppy’s question was close to the one Harry had asked, but it didn’t have the same tension to it as Harry’s had.
“I can’t,” Ginny laughed. “Not as long as Lady Mariah needs me.”
“Oh. Right.” Poppy blushed as though she’d made a serious blunder. “But it would be fun to visit the city, wouldn’t it?”
“Absolutely.”
She only wished that Harry felt the same way. He’d always been proud to be from Cornwall, and no matter how much Ginny hinted and coaxed, there didn’t seem to be room in his life or his plans for anything else. She was nothing but an adventure to him, a distraction from what he really wanted.
“Ginny, if you could take the other end of this cloth, we’ll spread it across the table,” Lady Mariah said, approaching her with an armful of folded white linen.
“Yes, my lady.” Ginny shook herself out of her unsatisfying thoughts and moved to take the tablecloths from Lady Mariah. “Poppy and I can handle this, my lady. You can sit down if you’d like.”
“But there’s so much to do,” Lady Mariah said with a happy sigh. She sent a look to the far end of the row of tables where her sister, Miss Victoria, stood with a table runner draped over one arm, looking lost and pale. “And besides, we need to keep Victoria occupied,” she whispered.
Ginny hummed in understanding, handing one tablecloth to Poppy while opening the other and handing one side to Lady Mariah. Poor Miss Victoria. Rumor had it downstairs that Lord William had treated her horribly right before he died. It was almost certain that he’d spoiled the young woman, like he had with too many maids before her. But where poor women could go home and find work somewhere else, assuming they hadn’t gotten with child, or even marry an understanding man who didn’t care about his wife’s past, once a well-born young woman was ruined, she was ruined for life.
“I can help you with that, Miss Victoria,” Poppy said skipping down the row of tables to Miss Victoria. “We can—oh!” Poppy gasped, then tumbled into a pile of black skirts and white tablecloths in the thick grass. Miss Victoria tossed her table runner aside and rushed to help her as Ginny and Lady Mariah looked on. “It’s all right,” Poppy said, holding up a hand as she sat. “I caught my foot on something.”
Ginny giggled, then covered her mouth with her hand and peeked at Lady Mariah. “I’m sorry, my lady. I shouldn’t laugh.”
But Lady Mariah was laughing as well. “Has she always been that clumsy?”
“I’m afraid so.” Ginny laughed freely. “It’s a wonder she ever made it out of the kitchens.”
“And now here she is, for all intents and purposes, my sister’s lady’s maid.”
The two shared a companionable laugh—something Gwen would faint over—and continued with their work. The funny incident kept a smile on Ginny’s face…which was still bright and cheery when she glanced up to find Harry staring at her from the other end of the yard. He was working with the men who were constructing a quick dais for Mr. Adler to stand on as he addressed the miners. Or at least, he should have been working. It looked more like he was puzzling out a problem as he watched her.
As soon as their eyes met, the troubled look in Harry’s eyes melted into a warm grin. He winked, touched the brim of his cap, then went back to work.
The simple gesture sent swirls of pleasure through Ginny, almost as good as his touch. If she wasn’t careful, she would convince herself that he thought she was more than a playmate. But handsome men like Harry, men who held positions of high esteem in the manor house, didn’t marry brazen hussies, like she was with him. Not that she would have traded the delicious moments the two of them spent together for the world. But it would be nice if there could be something more.
“I’ve always thought Mr. Pond was a handsome man,” Lady Mariah said, shaking the other end of the tablecloth that Ginny still held.
“Oh!” Ginny gasped, embarrassed that her mistress had caught her ogling a man. “I’m so sorry, my lady. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
Lady Mariah cleared her throat as the two of them shook the tablecloth a little more, then moved to drape it over the closest table. “I’ve been married for four months now, so I believe I am qualified to say that yes, I do know what you were thinking.”
Ginny could feel herself go beet red. “Mr. Pond and I are just friends, my lady,” she said, unable to meet her mistress’s eyes. “We’ve been friends for years.”
“Is that what you’ve been?” If Ginny hadn’t known any better, she would have thought that Lady Mariah was her friend and not her employer.
“Well, close friends,” Ginny admitted. They settled the tablecloth, brushed it to chase out the wrinkles, then fetched the next cloth.
“Would you like there to be something more than just friendship between the two of you?” Lady Mariah asked.
Ginny sent her a coy look that she hoped Lady Mariah would see as teasing. “Work doesn’t leave much time for romance, my lady.”
“I suppose not.” She tilted her head to the side as they shook out the next tablecloth. “So perhaps I should lighten your duties? I’m not used to having a lady’s maid anyhow.”
“Oh no, my lady.” Ginny glanced up with genuine horror. “I couldn’t ask you to do that. I’m here to serve you in any way you need me.”
“And Harry?” Lady Mariah asked.
Ginny blushed all over again and shrugged as they smoothed their cloth over the next table. “Mr. Pond doesn’t want me.” Admitting as much was surprisingly hard.
“I doubt that,” Lady Mariah said. “The way he looked at you just now said the exact opposite.”
Ginny felt bad about contradicting a countess, but she shook her head and said, “Mr. Pond is a respected man and an example to the entire household, the entire estate. He feels a great deal of responsibility to his position here, to Lord Dunsford, and to his family.”
“So?” Lady Mariah shrugged. “Wouldn’t that mean that he would want to court a smart, pretty woman like you?”
“You’re too kind, my lady. And I’m a little too feisty for Harry. I mean, Mr. Pond.”
Lady Mariah gave her a curious look as they fetched the last tablecloth. “You are bright and sometimes I think you’re far more mischievous than most lady’s maids.”
Ginny
confirmed her mistress’s assessment with a sly grin, but quickly added. “I’ll never give you cause to be ashamed of me, my lady.”
“Of course you won’t. But it’s not my opinion that matters in this case, it’s Mr. Pond’s.” They both glanced toward the dais, which was now finished. The men stood around talking as the first of the miners arrived. “And from what I can tell, he thinks very highly of you.”
As if to prove her point, Harry glanced Ginny’s way again, grinning when he caught her staring. Ginny laughed before she could help herself and finished with the tablecloth.
“Harry and I have fun together,” she admitted, too aware of the difference in her and Lady Mariah’s station to go into more detail. “But men don’t marry the women they think are fun. And besides,” she rushed on before Lady Mariah could contradict her. “I love serving you, my lady. I’m not willing to give up that position for any other, even if the new position came with a ring.”
“Not even for a house and babies of your own?” Lady Mariah pressed a hand to her stomach as she spoke.
“I’ve never considered having babies, my lady.”
It was a bald-faced lie, but Ginny said it with a smile. She’d spent nights lying awake, wondering what her and Harry’s children would look like. And if she were honest with herself, she’d wanted children since she was a girl. If she truly did believe she wouldn’t have them, wouldn’t have that kind of life, with Harry, shouldn’t she let her eyes wander elsewhere? Even if the thought of another man made her grimace?
And she truly was devoted to Lady Mariah. If she couldn’t have Harry—and no matter how much Lady Mariah said otherwise, she truly didn’t believe he wanted anything more than their unique kind of friendship—then she was content to be in service her entire life. It wasn’t as though she were teeming with suitors anyhow.
“Ah, here comes Mrs. Harmon with the refreshments,” she said, side-stepping the whole discussion to focus on work.
