A Stolen Season

by Gill, Tamara

  “My grandfather replicated the ballroom of Hepsley House in Somerset. Hepsley is owned by an old family friend and my grandparents first met at a ball under Hepsley’s grand roof. My grandfather, loving my grandmother as he did, copied the design and layout to remember that night each and every time they used this room. Everything you see here you would see at Hepsley. It’s quite odd when you’re standing in another ballroom many miles away knowing it could well be your own.”

  “Your grandparents were a love match.”

  “Their marriage was arranged, but love blossomed between them quite quickly, or so grandmother says at least. And I believe they were very happy together until he died.”

  “When did he pass?” Knowing she was bound to meet some of Eric’s extended family, the last thing she wanted was to offend anyone.

  “It would be coming up to twenty-five years now. I was only a young child when he died. He was travelling home from London; the clay soils around here can be quite dangerous in some areas. The carriage slipped and rolled and he was killed. Grandmother never really got over his death.”

  Sarah frowned as they walked back into the gallery and stopped before a painting of Lord William and Eric, painted during their youth. Their eyes were the same and her heart squeezed uncomfortably.

  “Don’t look so sad, darling. It was a long time ago and grandmother is quite fine now, I assure you.”

  Sarah looked up at Eric, knowing their days were also numbered. Stepping toward him, she leant up and kissed him. Not for any other reason than she loved him, loved being with him, and would miss him terribly when she left.

  “I have to warn you, my dear, if you continue to kiss me in such a way I will be forced to take drastic measures with you.”

  Sarah teasingly repeated the gesture. The kiss deepened to a slow intoxicating embrace. Sarah wrapped her arms about his neck and held on and never wanted to let him go. Never wanted to lose this wonderful gift she’d been given. She pulled back, a little dizzy. “What? Like that, my lord?” Sarah said, her voice hazy.

  “By God yes, just like that.” Eric pulled her at a clipped speed along the gallery. “Come with me.”

  Sarah chuckled as they left the south wing, rushing past numerous rooms. The west-facing front held a magnificent view over the deer park beyond. The walls within housed pictures by some of the greatest artists the world had ever seen.

  With some trepidation, Sarah realized Eric was a very wealthy and powerful man. What would he do if he ever found out she was common and worked as an archaeologist. She shuddered and pushed the thought aside.

  They turned down a main corridor and Sarah noticed the wing closed off half way along by two large wooden doors. Realizing where Eric was taking her, she pulled him to a stop.

  “Eric I can’t go into your room, my reputation would be shot to pieces if anyone saw. What if someone catches us in there? I’ll be ruined.”

  Sarah watched as Eric looked up and down the corridor. By the time she comprehended what he was about to do, he had picked her up and carried her over the threshold of his room.

  “Well it looks like I won that argument,” she mumbled.

  Eric chuckled and kissed her nose. “Let me show you my chambers and then I promise we’ll go for our ride. Will you look if I promise not to molest you in any way, no matter how tempting it may be to do so?”

  Sarah looked at him warily, not too sure whether to believe him or not. “Okay, but be quick. Being here is making me nervous.”

  Eric placed her on her feet and Sarah shut her mouth with a snap. After seeing the other parts of the home, she had been sure nothing could outdo the grand rooms. She was wrong.

  Eric’s bed alone was an astounding masterpiece of art, sporting three steps on all three sides leading up to the mattress. The headboard, made of dark mahogany, stretched from floor to ceiling. Sarah stepped closer and noted the engraved hunting scene of horses and dogs. The posts were carved to look like trees with vines climbing up and around their trunks. Silk hangings shrouded the bed and gave privacy when required.

  Sarah thought of all the children conceived in this bed. Eric too would create his babies there. She bit her lip and turned around and felt the soft Aubusson rug beneath her boots.

  Twin leather chairs, positioned before a marble fireplace, were probably the least extravagant items in the room.

  She walked around the room, trailing her fingers along the surfaces of all the beautiful furniture. An ornate desk with lions’ heads at the base of smooth, turned legs stood proudly in one corner. The masculine piece looked out on to a picturesque rose garden.

  A door on one side of the bed was ajar and, curious, Sarah walked over to it, peered inside, and located Eric’s dressing room. “There’s another door in there, Eric. Where does that go?”

  Eric sat on one of the steps that led up to his bed and watched her as she walked around his chamber. “My future wife’s dressing room. Beyond that, her bedroom.” He paused and met her gaze. “Would you like to see it, Sarah?”

  Sarah shut the door, not missing the hidden meaning behind his words. Looking back at him, she caught the grin and cocky tilt to his lips. She frowned. “Do not think I don’t know what you’re up to, Eric. And to answer your question, no, I do not need to see that room.”

  Eric heaved a disappointed sigh. “Perhaps you would prefer joining me over here?”

  Sarah walked straight past him and out the bedroom doors. She was not going to answer that question either. Her body was already screaming, Yes! Yes I will join you, thank you for asking. No, she would behave herself and head for safer waters, outside on the back of a horse instead of thinking of something else between her legs she’d prefer a lot more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Within minutes, they were outside. The day was warm, the sky a turquoise blue, randomly spotted with fluffy white clouds. A faint breeze the only element marring the day.

  “The stables are this way.”

  Eric took her hand and walked toward the wooden and stone buildings. He left her in the courtyard and she heard him talk to the stable hands before two horses were led from the stalls.

  She watched him saddle her mount and tighten the horse’s girth, his muscles flexing with the action. Her attention fixated on his arms before he bent over and gave her a perfect view of his backside in buckskin breeches.

  His top boots were soon dusty, and Sarah hardly recognized the sophisticated gentleman she had met in London. Here at his country estate, Eric was more relaxed and carefree. More her type.

  He walked a horse toward her, and she smiled. “She’s beautiful,” she said, patting the chestnut mare’s nose before the horse nuzzled into Sarah’s hand.

  Eric stroked the horse’s neck. “Tessa is a modest fifteen-point-two hands. She’s a steady and safe mount, I promise.”

  Sarah didn’t doubt his word. He pulled her toward him and cupped his hands together. “Here, let me help you up.”

  Sarah turned and mounted the horse, securing her leg around the horn, then fixing her skirts.

  Eric walked over to his own horse and mounted with ease. Sarah envied his breeches and wished she could have donned a pair to ride. At least if she fell off, breeches wouldn’t go over her head, revealing her undergarments and embarrassing her more.

  “Are you ready?” Eric asked.

  “Yes,” she said. Sarah peeked over her shoulder and noted no one was following them. She frowned. “Eric, should we not have a groom with us for propriety’s sake?”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  Eric stopped and waited for her to pull up alongside him. He ran a finger down her cheek and cupped her chin before leaning over and kissing her.

  “I want you all to myself.”

  Sarah ran her hand down his jaw. Oh, he was temptation incarnate.
“You should not kiss me here where everyone can see.”

  “I do not care.” He sat back and smiled. “I would like to show you Westerham before I take you on a picnic.”

  Sarah nodded as panic lodged in her throat. She couldn’t go back into town. The very town she’d run to on the night she’d killed Lord William. “Perhaps we could leave seeing Westerham for another day?”

  He smiled and kicked his horse into a trot. “It will not take long.”

  They rode across fields and after some time, small cottages popped up along the road leading into town. Sarah remembered Westerham well, as not a lot had changed since the morning she and Richard had fled to London. Dirt footpaths ran alongside the small businesses, and the few locals she could see hurried about with their chores. A large man with an apron stood before a food supply store, specializing in horse grain with the bonus services of a smithy. Just ahead, Sarah could see the Watermill and Brewery. The town really was lovely even if it did harbor the people who could see her hung.

  Men on the streets waved as they passed, and Eric responded to each and every one with their given names.

  “I’m surprised you know them all so well, my lord. I doubt there are many earls who could say the same,” Sarah said, smiling herself at a passerby. She adjusted her seat and refused to look in the direction of the inn as they passed. “Tell me, how is it a son of an earl is so friendly with the locals?”

  “My father was a good man, and instilled qualities in me which I abide by. One of those is to look after my tenant farmers, their families, and this township. We’re all reliant on one another. It would be foolish of me to mistreat or ignore them.”

  “Do you let the common people hunt on your land?” Sarah watched Eric and prayed his answer was to her liking.

  “I do. I know a lot of land owners do not, but I’m not one of them.”

  Sarah touched his arm, an overwhelming urge to hug the generous earl. “That is so very kind of you, Eric. You’re a true gentleman.”

  “Lord Earnston, a word if ye please.”

  They stopped, and Sarah felt the blood drain from her face. Oh God no.

  “Mr. Adams, how can I be of help?” Eric said.

  The innkeeper waddled over as best he could considering his size, his steps faltering when he looked up and saw her. The man frowned and narrowed his eyes.

  Sarah smiled and hoped by doing so she would dispel the suspicion that he knew her. Had seen her before. The night Lord William had died …

  “Ah, I wanted to talk to ye about old Joe Dee down the road. He’s ill and needs caring for, but his family is not around these parts. He’s too proud to ask for ye help, so I thought I’d take it on myself to ask.”

  Eric nodded. “Write down everything I need to know to organize his transportation to his family. My steward will take care of it.” Eric paused. “Is there something else I can help you with, Mr. Adams?”

  Sarah met the man’s gaze head on. To do anything else would be a catastrophic mistake.

  “Do I know ye, Miss?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I don’t believe so, sir.”

  The innkeeper scratched his tousled hair. “I’m sure I’ve seen ye before.” He rubbed his chin. “Where have I seen ye before?”

  Eric frowned and Sarah shrugged. “I’m a guest at his lordship’s estate. Perhaps you saw us arrive early this morning.”

  Mr. Adams nodded then shook his head. “Nope, not that.” He smiled. “Doesn’t matter, it’ll come to me, have a great memory ye see miss. Don’t forget a thing.”

  Sarah nodded and swallowed the bile threatening to choke her. Shit! If Mr. Adams did remember who she was, she and Richard would … Sarah shook the thought away. She didn’t want to think about what Eric would do to them. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be good.

  “Well,” Eric said, pulling her away. “Good day to you, Mr. Adams, and don’t forget to send my steward the details of Joe’s family when you have them.”

  “Right ye are, my lord,” Mr. Adams said and left.

  Sarah took a calming breath and welcomed the old barman’s departure. They rode out of the town in silence before Eric turned off the main drive that led toward his estate.

  “Apologies for not being present when you arrived. The home farms needed looking at without delay. A storm passed through some days ago and some roofs were damaged. I thought I would be back in time.”

  Sarah waved his concerns away. “Will it take much to repair the damage?”

  Eric placed the reins over his arm and took off his top hat before running a hand through his hair. Sarah’s mouth instantly went dry and her hands itched to run her fingers through his long locks, pull him down for a brazen kiss.

  “All but one cottage will require repairs, though none are too serious. I’ve assured the families it will be carried out forthwith.”

  Sarah squeezed his hand. “You’re a kind and good man, Eric. I may not have known your father, but I’m sure he would be proud of you.”

  Eric pulled his horse to a stop. “Do you know what I think, Sarah?”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I think Kent suits you, and your temperament would be agreeable to this life and title as my wife.” He smiled and put his hat back on.

  Sarah raised her brow. “That is to be decided,” she reminded him softly.

  He tried to hide the disappointment in his eyes, but not quickly enough to escape Sarah’s notice.

  Eric led her into a meadow before he turned onto a narrow path that led into the woods. The path looked well used by animals and humans alike. “William and I used to play in these woods. There are some old ruins not far from here where we used to pretend to be knights.”

  Sarah came abreast of his horse. “You miss him.”

  Eric frowned. “I do. He was the best of men.”

  Sarah looked away, not wanting to see the raw emotion on his face. She blinked back the tears and refused to cry. If only she could tell him she hadn’t meant to kill his brother. Let him know everything that transpired that night. Perhaps he could forgive her if she just told the truth.

  “I abhor them.”

  “Who?” Sarah asked.

  “The couple who broke into our home looking for this,” Eric said, pulling the device out of his pocket. “I swore on William’s grave I would make them pay for his death, and I will not rest until I do.”

  Sarah said nothing. What could she say? No, she couldn’t tell Lord Earnston the truth. He was still so angry, he’d likely shoot her dead on the spot, and think about his actions after the fact. And yet, she couldn’t blame him. She, too, would have wanted revenge, had she found a family member the same way Eric had.

  Her stomach cramped, from fear or hunger she wasn’t sure. Sarah glanced a quick peek at Eric and caught him staring at her.

  She shifted in her saddle, uncomfortable with the knowledge he was unknowingly courting the woman responsible for his sorrow. How could she, in all conscience, allow him to fall in love with her? She should just steal the damn mapping device and leave as Richard suggested. She was being cruel and for no reason, except her own selfish desires.

  “Is there a river nearby, Eric? I think I hear water,” Sarah asked to distract him and her guilt.

  Eric looked away. “It’s the Darent. And it’s where we shall picnic today.”

  They walked a few hundred yards before Eric pulled his horse to a stop. He dismounted and came over to help her down. Sarah’s body quivered as his hands clasped her hips. She beat back the urge to lean down and kiss him, to beg his forgiveness for a tragedy entirely her fault.

  Sarah looked about and spied the picnic basket beside a large boulder and shaded by an overhead tree. “It seems the food fairies have already arrived.” Sarah smiled and Eric laughed, placing her hands on his shoulders so
he could help her down.

  Sarah sucked in an aroused breath when he deliberately slid her down his body.

  “The fare is sure to be mouth-watering and satisfying.”

  Sarah stepped out of his embrace with a laugh. “You, my lord, are flirting with me.”

  He threw off his hat and laughed. “I must admit I am. Now, perhaps you could come back over here so I can continue my flirtation while holding you.”

  Sarah threw him a saucy look. “Maybe later,” she said and walked over to the basket of food while Eric tethered their horses to a tree branch.

  “Tessa is a lovely horse.” Sarah walked over to him and patted her mare.

  Eric nodded. “She is the foal to one of my best hunt horses. Alas, she never quite grew high enough to jump herself, but she has a beautiful temperament.” Truly, Eric did not have one bad tempered bone in his body. It was quite refreshing considering who his mother was. Sarah masked her shudder of revulsion at the woman and took his arm.

  “Shall we eat? I’m a little hungry.”

  Eric picked up her hand and kissed it. “Of course.”

  They walked into the meadow and sat beneath an oak tree not far from the crystal clear river. Sarah watched the water flow over rocks, creating little waterfalls near the shore.

  Eric smiled at her and her heart thumped hard in her chest. What was he doing to her? She pulled out two glasses from the basket needing a drink more than ever to calm her nerves.

  “They’ve forgotten the champagne,” she said, watching as Eric headed toward the river. He bent down beside the riverbank, his muscles bunching as he pulled on a rope. Sarah’s gaze hungrily devoured him. Was he teasing her on purpose?

  “Here it is,” he said, holding up a bottle and looking rightfully pleased with himself.

  Sarah held up the glasses. “I was wondering what was supposed to go in here.” Eric poured the bubbling liquid into each glass and sat back down.