Christmastide With His Countess

by Ellie St. Clair

  His lips descended on hers, hungrily tasting, demanding, telling her that he needed something more — as did she in equal measure.

  “You,” he said between kisses, “are wearing entirely too much clothing.”

  Not breaking their contact, he undid the buttons of the back of her gown much more deftly than she had his, before pushing down the green folds of the dress until her bosom was exposed. While he seemed insistent on undressing her, he was momentarily distracted by her breasts, and he showed her just how much he enjoyed them as he brought his mouth to one, circling the bud of her nipple with his tongue.

  “Oh!” she cried out, having been previously unaware of the wondrous sensations his actions could provoke. He paused momentarily to divest her of the rest of her gown, flinging aside the gold and green creation.

  “That,” he said, “Is the loveliest packaging I have ever unwrapped.”

  Her chemise seemed to entirely disappear without her even noticing, and it seemed his hands were everywhere at once — from her breasts, down her ribcage, back up to her neck, in her hair, before grasping her hips. She arched toward him, needing something more to quench this fire that was burning within her. The rough fabric of his breeches scratched against her legs, and she began clawing at his fall to try to be rid of the material. His fingers brushed against hers as he took over, quickly shedding his breeches and stockings until they joined the growing pieces of clothing strewn about the room.

  Any thoughts remaining fled when one of his magical hands came to her center, beginning to work all kinds of wonders. Something was growing, building inside of her, but she didn’t want it like this. She yearned to know him, to be one with him.

  “Hunter,” she groaned. “I need you to … to…” She knew what it was, but she wasn’t entirely sure how to put it into words. Fortunately, he seemed to understand, for his fingers left her, to be replaced by something much harder stroking against her entrance.

  “Scarlett,” he groaned as he began to slide inside of her. “Scarlett, I love you.”

  16

  Scarlett froze.

  She could blame much of her momentary stillness for the pain. While it certainly didn’t hurt nearly as much as others had told her, all the same it was a shock that she needed a moment to become accustomed to.

  But more than that, it was Hunter’s words of love. Did he mean it? Did he love her? Or was it simply words spoken in the throes of passion? Did she believe it? For if she did … well, then she might have to admit the full extent of her own feelings, and she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to do so, if she ever would be. For that was crossing a line she had told herself she was never going to cross. Did he expect her to say something in return? Her thoughts fled, however, when he began to move.

  He was gentle at first, a slow in and out, but soon his pace picked up in a rhythm as old as time itself, and she allowed the ecstasy to overcome her. He reached down between them, finding the most sensitive spot of her body, playing with her until all of the sensations she had felt before he had cut into her consciousness with his words of love came roaring back. Her hands dug into the strong muscles of his buttocks as she ground herself against him, until finally the fire exploded within her, sparks shooting out through every part of her. She cried out on a half-sob, half-shout as Hunter quickened his pace before finally stilling, seeming to shake as he found his own release.

  They stayed joined together for a moment more as they each recovered their breath, though Scarlett wasn’t sure that her heart would ever return to its regular pace.

  Eventually, he rolled off of her, coming to his back, arms spread wide on the bed. One reached out to her, curling around her shoulders as he brought her close to him, wedging her into his side. She rested her head on his chest, a hand coming up to feel the springy curls dusting over him.

  She closed her eyes and swallowed, not wanting to admit her thoughts out loud, hardly able to even think them herself. She was falling in love with her husband.

  Hunter woke to sunshine streaming across his face, entering the room from the slight crack in the curtains. What time was it? He was typically awake and in his office reviewing the day’s correspondence and background documents he needed knowledge of long before the sun arose in the winter months. He was, however, considerably tired this morning. And all because — because of her.

  He looked down beside him. Scarlett’s long, slightly wavy hair was strewn out over the pillow behind her head like a halo around the face of an angel. The sun danced across the scattering of freckles that covered her nose. Her mouth was open just slightly in sleep, enough that he could see the crooked bottom teeth through her plump lips. She was perfect.

  Hunter reached out, running a finger along the soft, porcelain skin of her collarbone, across the locket she still wore, over her shoulder and down her arm, until he came to her hands, and he intertwined her fingers with his. She grunted a little in sleep, and he chuckled, smiling as she instinctively drew closer to him, throwing an arm across his torso.

  This is what he had longed for since he had married the woman over three months ago. Despite the cold front she had initially presented to him, she was as warm as anyone he had ever met. She had held him at arm’s length for so long, and he did understand her reasoning — she was wary at first, as was he. He had feared her rejection. When she refused to accept him, he had left as quickly as he could, unwilling to suffer the same denial of love he had his entire childhood. He should have given it more time, been more patient with her. For she had proven to be someone entirely different than who she had initially presented to him.

  He thought back to the previous night. She had opened herself up to him, in more ways than just by giving him her body. And he had — had he told her he loved her? He thought perhaps he had, though a slight niggling of worry crept into his heart as he certainly didn’t recall her saying anything back. That he would remember. Perhaps she had simply been too overcome to respond. That must be it. She would tell him how she felt in due time, he was sure of it.

  Not wanting to wake her, Hunter eventually extricated his hand, finding his robe and pulling it on before leaving the room, shutting the door softly behind him. He made his way down the steps and was startled when a figure surprised him in the hall.

  “Ah, Miss…”

  “Parker, my lord.”

  “Miss Parker,” he said, addressing Scarlett’s maid. “Your lady is still sleeping but at some point she will require a change of clothes.”

  “Very good, my lord,” she said, and just when she began down the corridor, the maid’s sitting room door opened, and out stepped his valet.

  “My lord!” Spicer said, running a hand through his hair. “I, ah, that is, I—”

  “Good morning, Spicer,” Hunter said, happy his valet had found love just as he had himself. He continued down the hall, whistling a tune. It would be a fine day today. A very fine day indeed.

  Hunter didn’t know how long he sequestered himself away in his office, pausing only long enough to change quickly, finding Scarlett gone from his bed. The post had finally come through. The snow had paused, momentarily at least, though the freezing temperatures remained. Soon enough it would be time to return to London, and for the first time the thought was accompanied by a sense of melancholy rather than excitement or even impatience. His time here with Scarlett had been a pause in his regular life, and Hunter wasn’t sure he wanted to go back.

  But he had no choice. For there was much to be done, from discussion of the war with Boney to the changes he wanted to take action on, which he couldn’t do if he did not convince others to support him. Too many people were dependent upon him, upon the decisions that the lords would make. Scarlett would understand. And she would accompany him now, would she not?

  He was just finishing his last piece of correspondence, signing it with a flourish, when there was a slight knock at the door before Abbot’s graying head appeared.

  “My lord, Lady Oxford has requested all of the
staff to gather in the Stone Hall,” he said. “I thought that perhaps you may be interested in joining.”

  “Of course,” Hunter said, standing so quickly his chair nearly fell backward, but he caught it just in time. “Ah, Abbot,” he said as the man made to leave. “I don’t suppose you know what this is all about?”

  “I have my suspicions, my lord, but they are just that,” said the butler with a smile. “I wouldn’t want to be presumptuous.”

  Hunter narrowed his eyes but nodded, dismissing the man. Just what was his wife up to now?

  “I hope you all had a lovely Christmas!” Scarlett was exclaiming as he entered the room, where servants were gathered in the center, some even up on the second-floor balcony as they listened to his wife speak. Goodness, did he really have this many people on his staff? He hadn’t thought too much of it before, as he primarily saw to Spicer, Abbot, and Mrs. Shepherd, but he supposed that from the grooms down to the scullery maids, there would be a fair number of them. Did Scarlett know them all?

  “And today, the day after Christmas, we of course have boxes for all of you!”

  Boxes?

  “Boxing Day, my lord,” Spicer’s hushed voice came in his ear. The man could be a spy for how well he was able to sneak up on him. Hunter had heard of the idea, of course, but did anyone actually practice it? His family certainly never had — though, that wasn’t saying much as they pretty much skirted anything to do with Christmas. What was his wife up to? And why were all the servants out of their usual dress?

  “Mrs. Shepherd and Abbot will help me distribute them,” Scarlett continued, and Hunter grinned as he looked at her, finding she had a slight glow about her today, from her wide grin to the animated way she buzzed around like a bee between the pile of boxes sitting beside her and the various members of the staff who approached to help her.

  “But before you go, I just wanted to say how much we — ah, here is Lord Oxford now,” she waved a hand for him to approach. “How much we appreciate your service, both yesterday through a … wonderful Christmas, to how much you do for us each and every day of the year. Now, the snow is beginning to clear and the sun is shining. Have a lovely day off, each and every one of you!”

  A murmur began to rise from amongst the crowd of them gathered, as Hunter finally made his way to his wife, nodding and smiling at people who approached him with words of thanks.

  “Scarlett!” he exclaimed as he finally reached her. “What in heaven’s name is happening here?”

  “Boxing Day,” she said, turning to him with a face full of glee. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “What did you give them?” he asked, slightly concerned as he thought of his pocketbook and his ever-growing donations to charity. He supported it to be sure, but one had to be careful.

  “Why, it depends on the person,” she said, biting her lip, “doesn’t every gift?”

  “How did you know what they would enjoy?” he asked, bringing a hand to his head, rubbing his temple.

  “Oh, Mrs. Shepherd and Abbot helped,” she said, shrugging a shoulder, “but primarily little trinkets or books or something of the sort. Some from our library and items no longer in use, others from the shops in town.”

  “And the day off?”

  “Of course!” she said, looking at him with a bit of chagrin now as she began to sense that perhaps he wasn’t as pleased with her actions as she herself was. “That’s what Boxing Day is all about.”

  “Lord Oxford, I must speak with you.”

  Hunter turned at the dry, gravelly voice, finding the tall man staring down at him. Ah, Stone. He had completely forgotten about the man through all that happened over the Christmas season.

  “Mr. Stone,” Scarlett said with both greeting and consternation, and the man turned to her, an evil sneer of disgust that even Hunter didn’t miss covering his face. “Lady Oxford.”

  “We best go in my office,” Hunter said with a sigh, wishing he could turn back the clock to an hour prior when he had been so pleased with the events of the day. “Come along, Stone.”

  The man followed him in silence, for Hunter was unsure of what to say to him. He typically left the management of servants to his butler or Stone himself, but he was the only one who could deal with this.

  He took a seat behind his desk in his mahogany leather chair, motioning Stone to sit in front of him.

  “Your wife has been busy once more,” Stone said, looking at him out of his beady dark eyes.

  “Yes, I have found that she typically is,” Hunter replied, having no desire to discuss Scarlett with the man with whom she seemed to clash so harshly. “Following our conversation, I spoke with my wife regarding the accounts,” he began. “I also visited some of my tenants to determine for myself the true nature of the rents and the spending.”

  “Oh?” Stone asked, making an apparent attempt to remain unaffected, though Hunter noted his eyes darting from one side of the room to the other in unease, never quite landing on him.

  “What happened to the rents, Stone? They were increased so high, my tenants could no longer afford to live in any sort of comfort.”

  “Tenants were never meant to live in comfort, my lord,” Stone said, raising an eyebrow.

  “You know what I am referring to, and do not pretend you don’t,” Hunter ground out, narrowing his eyes at him. “As I don’t have the detailed accounts, I have yet to determine where the revenue was placed, but I will soon find out. At any rate, they have now been lowered back to what is appropriate.”

  “Appropriate according to you, or to your wife?” Stone asked, rising from his chair and placing his hands on the desk. “Are you thinking with your mind, now, my lord, or with what is in your pants?”

  “Enough!” Hunter said, rising himself, a finger extended toward his steward. “I will not be shown disrespect, and nor will my wife. You have been with our family for quite some time, Stone, I realize that, but I believe it is time for a change. You are relieved of your duties. Please remove your things from your house by end of day tomorrow.”

  Stone raised a hand, whether to hit him or simply make his point, Hunter wasn’t sure. Reason must have taken hold, however, as he slowly lowered it, simply glowering at Hunter instead. He pushed back his chair and stormed from the room, though not before pausing as he opened the door.

  “You will regret this,” he promised, then finally took his leave, and Hunter sank down into his chair, glowering at the man’s retreating back.

  17

  Hunter finally emerged from his study after making a list of all he needed to do before he returned to London, which must, he determined, be in the next few days. Before New Year’s, that was for certain, despite how disappointed Lavinia would be at the news.

  First, however, he needed a moment alone with his wife, he thought as he strode down the corridor of the hall, which felt empty and hollow in the absence of all of his staff. Finally, he heard voices in one of the far drawing rooms, just beyond the library. Who would she be talking to? Lavinia must have come to visit, he thought ruefully. Ah well, a quick visit with his sister wouldn’t be so bad, and then she would be gone by after dinner at the very latest, and they would have utmost privacy. His pulse began to quicken as he imagined all the places they could make love in a completely empty house, without the risk of a servant finding them.

  Stone Hall, to be certain. And the library — absolutely the library, where they had first encountered one another upon his return visit. If it was summer, he would have insisted they take things outdoors to the grotto, the jewel of Wintervale, tucked away in his magnificent gardens. That certainly wouldn’t do at Christmas, however.

  His thoughts came to a halt when he opened the door of the drawing room.

  “Hunter!” Scarlett said excitedly as she rose to greet him at the door. “My mother has come to visit!”

  “Oh.” Hunter stood there in shock, his previous visions of a passionate day and night with his wife evaporating. He knew how much Scarlett loved her m
other and was happy she had the opportunity to visit but … why did it have to be now?

  At Scarlett’s probing look, he collected himself and entered the room, walking over to the woman, who looked much like Scarlett, but a little older and slightly more … drawn, he thought. Scarlett had life and vitality — when she chose to share it. Her mother seemed to have given up hope.

  “Lady Halifax,” he said, bending over her hand. “How lovely to see you again. I apologize that we do not have the proper staff to care for you. We have provided them with a day off for Boxing Day.”

  “Of course!” she said with a wave of her hand, looking fondly at her daughter, and Hunter could sense the love between the two of them. “I completely understand. I had been worried about Scarlett, you see, as I had thought she was to visit me for Christmas, and with the roads as buried as they were, it wasn’t even possible for us to send any correspondence. I was going to write to her, and then I thought, oh Virginia, you are but a few hours away, you might as well go see her yourself.”

  Lady Halifax smiled at Scarlett, but when she returned her gaze to Hunter, the edges of it dipped, her pleasure no longer quite making it to her eyes.

  “I am surprised to see you here, Lord Oxford.”

  “I was snowed in as well,” he responded, his eyes flicking over to Scarlett to determine her reaction, but her face remained stoic. “Although it has turned out to be fortunate, as it has provided me the opportunity to better get to know my lovely wife.”

  “I see,” Lady Halifax said, nodding her head, looking between the two of them. Scarlett had begun to wind a strand of hair around her finger, chewing her lip as she looked slightly uncomfortable. What was it, exactly, that Lady Halifax saw?

  “I believe there is a scullery maid still in the kitchens for the day,” Hunter finally said to break the silence. “Why don’t I go see if I can have her provide some tea and pastries for you?”