The Dark Earl

by Virginia Henley

  He moved over her and kissed her deeply. “My audacious Irish beauty.”

  She laughed up into his dark face, falling more in love with him every minute.

  He knelt, his thighs straddling her hips, and gazed down at her. His palms cupped her breasts, and his thumbs toyed with her nipples until they ruched like rubies.

  She reached up and threaded her fingers through the thick black pelt that covered the powerful muscles of his chest. When she touched him, she felt the muscles in his thighs tighten and his cock became rigid. “Everything about you is hard.”

  Her provocative words inflamed him. He knew that with one hot, driving thrust he could be inside her, but with iron control he schooled himself to patience. He gently rolled with her so that she was above him, her knees now straddling his hips.

  She leaned forward and her dark tresses trailed against his throat as she dipped her head and captured his mouth in a sensual kiss. When she felt him shudder with need, she suddenly wanted to arouse him to madness. She pressed her breasts against his chest, and gasped with pleasure. The feel of naked skin against bare flesh was so exciting she wanted to scream. She could feel his erection against her soft belly and moaned with longing. She writhed against him and bit his shoulder in a frenzy of need.

  “Softly, my beauty.” He rolled with her until he was in the dominant position. His fingers caressed her mons. After long moments of play, he separated her curls, and slid a finger into her dew-moist sheath. When he felt she was ready, he murmured, “Open for me, sweetheart.” He positioned the tip of his cock at the opening of her cleft and thrust deeply inside her.

  She cried out at the pain and he held absolutely still until the hurt subsided and she got used to the fullness. “It’s done, sweetheart—no more pain.” She was so hot and so tight around his throbbing cock that it took all his willpower to keep from ravishing her.

  Slowly, he began to thrust and withdraw, inching deeper and deeper into her woman’s center. His whispered love words, hot and dark, poured over her.

  She wrapped her legs about his back, matching her body to his rhythmic, mesmerizing thrusts. She found the act of love so intimate and intoxicating, she willingly yielded all control to him, and within seconds she was crying out her pleasure, as she dissolved in shuddering tremors.

  Not until he felt her last pulsation did he allow himself to spend. Then he gathered her close and held her against his wildly beating heart. He knew he would never have enough of her. Her effervescent, passionate nature made him realize she was a rare treasure. The desire she aroused in him was so passionate, he could have made love to her all night, and he vowed that in the not too distant future, he would. This was not the night, however. He had given her pleasure and would not spoil it with uncontrolled lust.

  Thomas felt her body soften with surfeit as he held her close. They whispered softly between kisses, until finally her eyelids drooped and her lashes brushed her cheeks as she drifted off into slumber. He knew sleep would be impossible. He wished he could stop time and keep tomorrow away indefinitely. Then he laughed at his own folly. He had no choice but to face life head-on.

  When Harry opened her eyes, the lovely autumn sunshine was streaming through the windows. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that she was alone in bed. But she sighed with happiness when the door opened and Thomas carried in a breakfast tray. She gave him a radiant smile. “Tonight we’ll be in Shugborough. I can’t wait.”

  He set the tray before her. “I want you to enjoy every mouthful.”

  “Won’t you join me?” she tempted.

  He shook his head solemnly. “I’ve already eaten.”

  She picked up the bacon with her fingers and didn’t speak again until she had eaten everything the cook had made her for breakfast. Then she pushed away the tray and threw back the covers. “I must hurry.”

  He sat down on the bed, a somber expression on his face. “Harry, I’m afraid something terrible has happened. A messenger has brought the news that my father has died. I have to return to London.”

  Her hand went to her throat. “Oh, Thomas, I’m so sorry. I’ll get dressed right away.”

  “No, Harry, I want you to stay here. We’ve been expecting it for so long, the arrangements have been made for a private burial. I have to return to be with Mother for the reading of the Last Will. No matter how late it is, I’ll return tonight, and we can travel to Shugborough tomorrow.”

  “Surely, it’s a wife’s duty to be beside you at such a time.”

  “Harry, I don’t want my father’s demise to touch you or shadow your happiness in any way. His death is a blessing, not only for him, but for my beloved mother.”

  “I understand, Thomas,” she said softly.

  “It would please me if you would spend the day with Fanny and the children. Take Fanny and your uncle John some wedding cake.” He tucked the covers around her and dipped his head to kiss her brow. “The rest of our life starts tomorrow.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “It was selfless of you to miss the ceremony, Mother. It was short, and went off very well. Harriet had a happy wedding day. Did you encounter any difficulties?”

  “None at all. I called Norton to your father’s bedchamber just after midnight. He summoned the doctor, who pronounced him dead and made out the death certificate.

  “At six this morning, the undertaker removed his corpse, and I dispatched a messenger to Campden Hill to bring you the news.”

  Thomas checked his pocket watch. “It’s eight o’clock—time to summon Fowler.”

  Barbara Anson closed her eyes and pressed her lips together.

  “Don’t be afraid, Mother. I hold the whip hand.”

  Thomas went up to his own chamber and changed into a black suit. As he checked his image in the mirror, his thoughts were reflective. His death has not brought me the overwhelming relief I expected. Perhaps because all hope of reconciliation between us died with him. He laughed at his own folly. Thomas, never look back and never think twice. He realized that all he could do was look to the future, and once again he vowed to give his own children the love he had never received.

  An hour later, when attorney Martin Fowler knocked on the door of 15 St. James’s Square, it was Thomas who opened it. “Fowler,” he acknowledged curtly.

  Fowler pierced him with a glare from behind his spectacles. “I understand the Earl of Lichfield has died?” He sounded as if he couldn’t quite believe it.

  “You understand correctly.” When the attorney stepped over the threshold, Thomas closed the door. “Follow me up to the library.”

  As he ascended the stairs, Thomas could feel the animosity radiating from the man of law, and he wondered just when Fowler had discovered there was only one Last Will and Testament in the Anson file. It must have been recently, or he would have flown here like a homing pigeon.

  When they arrived in the library, Thomas’s mother, garbed in traditional widows’ weeds, was already present.

  Fowler nodded. “Lady Lichfield.”

  “Thank you for answering the summons so promptly, Mr. Fowler.”

  The attorney set his leather portfolio down on the desk.

  “Feel free to use my desk, Fowler,” Thomas said graciously.

  “The Earl of Lichfield made his last wishes exceedingly clear to me during the last few weeks of his life. He stipulated—”

  “I am fully aware that my father frequently consulted you about changing his will. We are quite prepared to have you read it, Fowler.” Thomas held a chair for his mother, then took the seat behind his desk. There was no other chair in the room.

  Fowler opened his case and took out a sheaf of papers. Then he hesitated for a moment and shoved them back into the case. “The Earl of Lichfield kept his Last Will and Testament in the iron safe in his bedchamber.”

  “Alas, we will not be able to retrieve it. My father never gave me the combination to his safe.”

  “He entrusted the combination to me,” Fowler said with grim sat
isfaction.

  “Are you sure?” Thomas asked in disbelief.

  “Quite sure. If you would accompany me to the safe, I shall be happy to retrieve the earl’s Last Will and Testament and read it to you.”

  Thomas bowed his head in acquiescence. “Lead on. I’m sure you remember the well-traveled path to his bedchamber.”

  Fowler picked up his case and headed from the library. Thomas offered his hand to his mother, and they followed the attorney to the late earl’s chamber. Fowler opened the bedroom door and paused when he saw the empty bed. Then he walked to the safe, set his case down on top of it, and searched until he found a folded sheet of paper.

  He knelt before the safe, dialed the first two numbers, then consulted the paper, and dialed the last three numbers. He opened the safe door, reached inside, and drew out the will. When he found only one document, he peered inside, and felt around with futile determination.

  He stood up and whirled about to face Anson with a piercing look that was so accusatory, it would have intimidated a less dominant man. Bristling with outrage, he opened the document, and saw that it was the earl’s original will. “This safe has been tampered with. Your father’s Last Will and his signed affidavit have been removed!”

  Thomas demanded in outrage, “Are you accusing my mother of duplicity?”

  “Of course not. It is you—”

  “I believe you knew my father well enough to know he would never trust me with the combination to his private safe.”

  “The earl stipulated that if he died before you wed, you were to be disinherited.”

  “I was married yesterday to the eldest daughter of the Duke of Abercorn,” Thomas said smoothly. “You are here for the sole purpose of reading my father’s will. I suggest you get on with it.”

  Fowler held up the document. “You know exactly what it says. There is no need for me to read it.”

  “Nonetheless, I would ask that you do so. As the deceased’s attorney, it is your legal obligation and duty.”

  Fowler stared down at the document he held. His hand shook with thwarted anger as he read the words in a droning tone bequeathing Shugborough Hall, Staffordshire, to Thomas Anson, the late Earl of Lichfield’s legal heir.

  When the attorney was finished, Thomas held out his hand for the document. “Thank you, Fowler. Your legal services are no longer required.”

  Fowler’s face turned dark with fury. “The Earl of Lichfield stipulated—”

  “I am the Earl of Lichfield. You are dismissed.”

  Fowler grabbed his case and scurried from the room like a cockroach.

  “Thank you, Thomas. The affront to the vile swine was almost too much for him to bear. It was he who had to swallow the bitter pill of humiliation for a change.”

  “What time is the burial?”

  “I explained to the undertaker that we would like him buried today. He was aware that Hanwell Cemetery in Ealing was for the exclusive use of St. George’s parishioners. He told me that he could not have the coffin there until five o’clock.”

  Thomas nodded. “Did you send word to my sisters?”

  “Yes. They will be as relieved as we are, and their husbands even more so. I will finally be able to visit my daughters.” Barbara Anson shuddered and walked to the door. “I cannot bear to be in this room one more minute.”

  Thomas summoned Norton and the rest of the servants. “I want this room emptied today. Give the furniture to a poor family in need. I want even the carpet and drapes stripped from the room. Norton, while I’m away at Shugborough, have the room painted.”

  Harry stood at the window that overlooked the driveway long after it was too dark to see anything. All her thoughts were focused on Thomas. He always had a difficult relationship with his father, though he never spoke of it. Her uncle John had told her Thomas was the antithesis of his father, and she believed that the earl had had a profound influence on his son. The reason Thomas has such rigid morals and is so honorable and straitlaced is due to his father’s disreputable character.

  “Standing at the window won’t make him come any sooner, my dear. Can I make you a cup of tea?”

  “No, thank you, Mrs. Bailey. You needn’t wait up with me. I won’t require anything else tonight.”

  “I’m off, then. There’s brandy on the sideboard, should you feel the need.”

  “Thank you. Good night.”

  Harry rearranged all the pillows on the sofa and thought of Barbara Anson. She is free at last. I wonder how many years she has endured an unhappy marriage. It’s been a dozen years since everything at Shugborough was sold at auction, but when I went to dinner, she confided that it held too many unhappy memories for her. She could have been in purgatory long before everything had to be sold to settle her husband’s gambling debts.

  Harry went to the window again. Perhaps Thomas won’t return tonight. It must have been a stressful day, both for him and for his mother. Perhaps she needs his company tonight. I think I’ll go up to bed. There is no point in my sitting here alone, worrying and wondering. She picked up the brandy, turned out the lamp, and went upstairs to the lovely yellow bedchamber.

  She undressed and put on the white silk nightgown that had lain forgotten last night.

  Then she turned out the lamp and got into bed. This bed is so wide, it feels strange to lie here alone. She stroked the pillow where her husband’s head had lain, and her cheeks felt warm when she thought of the way he had made love to her. Thomas gave me absolute proof that he loves me. She closed her eyes and saw his dark image on her closed eyelids. Harry curled over onto her side and imagined she could feel the warmth of his powerful body behind her.

  Some time later, a noise made her open her eyes. She did not know if she had been asleep or not. When she sat up, she realized that Thomas was there. She slipped from bed and relit the lamp. It revealed his face, taut and unsmiling. “I missed you fiercely.”

  He enfolded her in his arms and kissed her hair. “It’s over and done.”

  “Would you like some brandy?” she asked softly.

  He nodded. “Have some with me.”

  Harry poured the brandy and Thomas undressed. She handed him his glass, and together they downed the fiery liquor. They kissed and when they tasted the brandy on their lips, they smiled into each other’s eyes. Harry got back into bed, and then Thomas turned out the lamp and followed her. When he gathered her against his heart, Harry put her arms around him and held him tightly. They clung together for more than an hour as the warmth of their bodies seeped into each other. Then they drifted off to sleep, safe in each other’s arms.

  Harry awoke to a room filled with sunshine. When she opened her eyes, she found her husband watching her. His eyes shone with silver this morning and she instantly realized that the dark mood of yesterday had lifted, and in its place was an atmosphere of love, happiness, and anticipation.

  “Good morning, my beauty.”

  “Yes, it is a good morning, Lord Lichfield.”

  His arms swept about her, and his mouth captured hers in a long, slow kiss. When their lips parted, she said breathlessly, “If the kissing starts, we’ll never get to Shugborough today. I want both desperately, so you must decide which it is to be.”

  Thomas made no effort to hide his amusement. “I’m guessing Shugborough is your first choice, Lady Lichfield. You’d better get dressed before you tempt me to dalliance.”

  She lifted her mouth to his. “Hurry and dress. Don’t take time to shave. I want to see you haul all this luggage again just to impress me.” Every time you do something to please me, you are proving your love. In church, you vowed to love and cherish me, and I truly believe you do. Harry sighed with happiness. I’m the luckiest bride in the world.

  “Shugborough Hall. We are home!” Harry grabbed his arm and dug in her fingers. “Oh, Thomas, those are the loveliest words I’ve ever uttered. It’s still dusk, and there’s just enough light left to see the hall in all its glory.”

  “It’s a good thing w
e stopped only once to water the horses and enjoy the food that Mrs. Bailey so thoughtfully packed for us, or it would be full dark.”

  When they drove up to the stables, a groom came out to greet him. “Welcome home, Lord Anson.” His appreciative glance went to the lady who accompanied Thomas.

  “I’m the Earl of Lichfield now, Toby, and this is my countess, Lady Harriet. Would you send your boy up to the house to let Mrs. Stearn know what to expect? I’ll unharness the horses and get them into stalls. You can give them a rubdown and feed them.”

  Toby grinned. “That I will, Lord Lichfield. Welcome to Shugborough, my lady.”

  “Thank you, Toby. I’ve been enamored with Shugborough since I was a child.” Harry waited until Thomas unharnessed the pair of carriage horses; then she took the bridle of one. “I’ll take him to his stall. You lead and I’ll follow.”

  Thomas teased, “I’m extremely flattered that you are bowing to my authority.”

  She flashed him a mischievous smile. “Enjoy it while you can—it won’t last long.”

  Toby gaped at the lovely young countess, who handled the carriage horse with skill.

  The black hunter, Nemesis, whickered a greeting when he heard his master’s voice, and Thomas rubbed his nose and spoke affectionate words to him. Then he hauled Harry’s trunk to his shoulder and picked up one of the traveling bags. “I’ll send Vickerstaff for the rest of the luggage,” he told Toby.

  As they walked from the stable, they met the young boy returning from the house, and Harry said, “Hello, there. What’s your name?”

  “My name is Toby too,” he informed her.

  “Well, Tobytoo, was Mrs. Stearn surprised?”

  The boy grinned. “She were that, lady. She’s in a fair tizzy.”

  Harry glanced up at her bridegroom. “Me too,” she whispered.