by Meara Platt
What was Tom feeling?
His guard was obviously down, his heart in turmoil, and his body exuding pain. Was it wrong for her to comfort him? They both had need of it.
Where was the harm in a kiss?
Only one kiss, one they both desperately craved for separate reasons.
She sighed as he drew her into his arms and simply held her for a long moment, needing to absorb her against his body like a sponge taking in water. She didn’t know how else to describe the way their bodies wrapped around each other.
His touch was gentle, and she realized he was waiting, giving her a few precious seconds for the chance to escape.
She hadn’t the slightest intention. “Tom, I’m not going anywhere.”
She closed her eyes and slid her arms up his chest and around his neck because he had a truly fine body, and she was curious how it would feel beneath her palms. Oh, heavens. He was hot and hard and beautifully muscled. This was better than she’d ever thought possible. Tingles shot through her as her yearning for him became an unbearable ache. Was she making a fool of herself? Did he recognize her emptiness and feel the same?
“Honey,” he whispered, groaning as he captured her lips with torrid heat.
Her tingles became fiery explosions.
His touch sent her reeling so that her legs were no longer capable of holding her up. It didn’t matter, Tom’s mouth was on hers, warm and possessive, and he was holding her with exquisite care, as though he never wanted to let her go.
She felt safe with him.
He would not let her fall.
She wanted to cry for the beauty of his kiss and the sweetness of the way he held her. Perhaps this is how he made all women feel, but this kiss belonged to her alone, and she would not think beyond it.
This one was hers to treasure.
When he teased her lips apart with his tongue, she responded with equal ardor. She felt as though she were floating through time…perhaps floating in a timeless splendor. And yet, this moment was real. She tasted brandy on his lips, the taste of him intoxicating. She inhaled the sandalwood scent of his cologne and the male heat of his skin.
Also intoxicating.
Everything about this man demolished her defenses.
When his hands roamed along her back, she realized she wore only her nightgown. The thinnest fabric separated her body from his bare touch. She no longer cared. When he touched her neck, the glide of his fingers along her skin felt exquisite. Intimate. Intense and fiery.
She arched into him when he cupped her breast and began to swirl his thumb over it, causing its bud to harden to a taut peak.
She cried out softly in delight.
“Honey, what you do to me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and gritty as he broke off their kiss, and then she was up against the wall, cornered against it as he began to untie the lace ribbon at the front of her nightgown.
She closed her eyes to better take in the sensation of his knuckles grazing her bare skin as the ribbon slipped away to reveal what was hidden underneath.
His breath held for a long moment, almost as though he’d forgotten how to breathe. Then he released a long, ragged groan and dipped his head to one soft mound and gently suckled its taut bud. She could have stopped him any time, but she didn’t want to. Blessed Mother! What was it about him? He had a reputation for chasing women, and yet, she’d never felt safer or more treasured with any man.
Well, he was the only man.
Still, she knew her heart would not respond this way to anyone else.
He swirled his tongue over her flesh, stroking and teasing as he’d done moments ago with his hand.
She was lost.
This sensation was beyond anything she’d ever imagined. She didn’t want him to stop. The way he’d kissed her and was now cherishing her body, she felt as though they were losing their souls to each other.
Suddenly, he drew away.
She felt cool air against the moisture of her breast.
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” he said, his breaths heavy and his voice aching. “I didn’t want it to turn into this. Not with you.”
“You didn’t?”
She must have sounded forlorn, for he gave a laughing groan as he covered her up. “Not in the way you think. You’re beautiful, of course. I want you, that must be obvious. Just not this way.” His touch was gentle, and his hands were shaking as he drew her nightgown over her breasts and tied the ribbon so that she knew she had affected him as much as he’d affected her.
“What happened to us just now, Tom?” Her heart was still racing, and she could barely speak, she was so caught up in the passionate grip of these new sensations.
He took her into his arms again and caressed her cheek. “I don’t quite know. Something unexpected and wonderful, I think.”
“I hoped it would be like this.” She emitted a shaky breath. “Is it always so?”
“No. At least, it never has been for me before. I’m not used to feeling so desperately out of control. Your heart’s still racing.” He laughed softly. “So’s mine. Why didn’t you stop me? I would have pulled away if you’d said the word. You are not a dalliance for me, Honey.”
She knew it. She’d sensed it in the raw, exposed passion of his kiss and the encompassing way he’d held her.
But what was she to him?
More important, what was he becoming to her?
Chapter Five
Honey awoke early the following morning after a restless sleep and ran to her window to see what the day would bring. Rain? Or glorious sunshine? To her relief, the sun was out, and the mist that usually hovered low on the ground had already burned away except for a few, patchy spots.
She glanced at the red leather book on her nightstand. The Book of Love. “You,” she said with a sigh. “Did you cause last night’s…?” What would one call a kiss that led to her practically shedding her nightgown and giving her body to a handsome earl?
Tom’s lips had been on her breast, and despite the years of proper upbringing, the warnings about men and their seductive ways, she had ignored it all, every last bit, and behaved like a wanton.
What was she going to do about it now?
How should she behave around him?
She had never considered experiencing more than a kiss, indeed had it all planned out in her head. Yes, let’s put our lips together. Very nice. I’m quite satisfied now. Goodbye. But after last night, she no longer knew what to do. He was an earl, scion of one of the oldest and most respected families in the realm. No matter how much he loved her, would he accept to taint the title by offering to marry a girl who was illegitimate?
The few people who knew the circumstances surrounding her birth would never reveal her secret shame. But if matters became serious and Tom wanted to marry her? She wasn’t going to lie to him. She didn’t have to read that book to know a marriage built on lies was doomed to failure.
There was also the matter of her heart.
She was terrified of falling in love with him. The hurt, if he did not love her back, would be unbearable. The hurt, if he did love her back but would not marry her because of her situation, would simply shatter her.
There was no simple answer.
She’d have to think long and hard about what to do.
A soft knock at her door distracted her from further thought. “Honey, are you up yet?”
She recognized Poppy’s voice and breathed a sigh of relief. “Yes, but I’m not dressed.”
“May I come in?”
“Of course.” She opened the door to allow her cousin in. “I was just about to ring for Lottie. Sorry, I stayed up late and was slow to get out of bed this morning.”
Poppy noticed the book on her nightstand and smiled. “Oh, excellent! How far along in the reading are you?”
She shut the door behind them and walked over to the bed to give a tug on the bellpull. “I’ve only just started the first chapter, barely a few pages in. But I’ll get through more of it today. I plan
to go down by the river with the book, a blanket, and a picnic lunch. It seems a quiet spot to read and reflect.”
“What about the day’s entertainments? Don’t you want to join in any of it? There’s archery for the ladies in about an hour. Then a garden walk. After lunch, Tom said he would set out easels and paints for the ladies. I have no idea what the men plan to do. Perhaps they’ll just stand around and watch us.”
Honey smiled. “I’ll be there for the afternoon painting. Lord Wycke hopes his mother will join in as well. Have you noticed her beautiful work all about the house?”
Poppy sank onto her bed. “I have. We’ve been here several times since I’ve been married to Nathaniel. They’ve visited us as well. We now have a few of her paintings at Sherbourne Manor. They’re stunning, not the sort of pieces one hides up in the attic and hurriedly brings down when they come to visit.”
Honey laughed and settled on the bed beside her cousin. “I think he will need our help with his mother. She isn’t well.”
Poppy nibbled her lip. “I know. I’ve seen it. You can count on me. He’s a very proud man and loves his family. To see her become more scattered by the day cannot be easy for him. Not that he cares about it for himself. He’ll do his duty and more as her son. It’s the others he’s worried about. It will kill him inside to see her made a laughingstock.”
“That’s it exactly.” Honey nodded. “She was restless and confused last night. I heard her wandering the hall and took her safely back to her room. I don’t think she’ll come down before noontime. Will you watch her when she does? I’ll keep an eye on her later this afternoon. If she does come down to paint, I’ll set up my easel beside hers.”
“And I’ll make sure to set up on her other side. Sounds like a solid plan.” Poppy hopped off the bed. “I’m famished. The breakfast salvers are on the buffet in the dining room. Hurry up, Honey. Join us.”
With Lottie’s help, she washed and dressed in an ivory morning gown embroidered with pink roses. Lottie helped her style her hair in a simple chignon at the nape of her neck and added two decorative, pink butterfly pins on either side to hold back her mass of curls. “You look lovely, Miss Honey.”
The girl bobbed her head and smiled, obviously pleased with the result.
She thanked Lottie and hurried downstairs, hoping Poppy and Lavinia had not already finished eating and gone off to enjoy the day.
Unfortunately, they had.
There were no guests in the dining room when she walked in because it was already late. Only Tom’s staff was in there, working to clear away the trays of eggs, kippers, ham, boiled potatoes, sticky buns, and pudding off the buffet.
Everyone stopped in the midst of their chores at the butler’s abrupt command. “Miss Farthingale, do take your time.” He waved his footmen off. “May I pour you a cup of tea?”
She knew they were already overburdened and did not wish to disrupt their schedule further. Several of the older ladies in the party were seated on the veranda, chatting amiably among themselves, while the younger ladies were shooting their arrows at targets set up in the garden. “Tea would be lovely. Would you bring it out to me? I’ll just make up a plate for myself and join the ladies. Please do go on with whatever you were doing.”
He seemed relieved. “Thank you, Miss Farthingale.”
She joined Nathaniel’s aunt and several of her friends at their table. Periwinkle was seated on Lavinia’s lap but hopped off and leaped onto hers the moment she sat down. She set down her plate and began to pet him playfully behind the ears. “You little cad,” she teased, “it isn’t me you want but my plate of food. You are an utterly shameless little beast.”
Lavinia laughed heartily. “If he were a man, he’d be an unredeemable rakehell. No morals or loyalty whatsoever.”
“Ah, Periwinkle,” she said in jest, talking to the dog who seemed to be listening intently. “I must take great care not to fall in love with you. You are too irresistible and will break my heart.” She had just finished her meal when the men and Pip came back from their morning ride. The young ladies in the archery field began to flutter and preen when some of the gentlemen came to watch them shoot their arrows.
However, Pip, Nathaniel, and Tom strode onto the veranda to join them.
The mere sight of Tom sent heat flaring into Honey’s cheeks. Her entire face had to be as bright as a torch flame.
So much for hiding her feelings.
Ugh! Why couldn’t she be one of those cool, sophisticated creatures who gave away nothing?
She pretended to cough, using the sudden fit of coughing as an excuse to draw her handkerchief to her lips and nose. Unfortunately, it immediately drew Tom’s attention to her.
He cast her a knowing grin.
Heavens! What they’d done last night.
“Excuse me.” More fake coughs. Was she fooling anyone? The only saving grace was Tom’s grin seemed more affectionate than mocking. Still, she couldn’t seem to gather her wits and decided her best course of action was to run into the house.
She had just darted indoors when he caught up to her. “Honey, are you all right?” He gave her cheek a light caress. “I’m not talking about your pretend coughing fit. But don’t worry, I think you had the others fooled.”
“Oh, Tom. What you must think of me.” She felt her face burst into flames again.
“I think you’re wonderful.” His hand was still on her cheek, his thumb lightly stroking the line of her jaw. “I love the way you responded to me.”
“You might have warned me.”
His endearingly, boyish smile made her weak in the knees. “I might have, but I had no idea myself. I was no less caught up in…that…than you.”
She looked into his eyes of warm, forest green. “Really?”
He nodded. “Which is saying something, because I’m experienced and you’re not. Yet, this was a first for me. I’m not sure what it means.”
“Probably nothing.” She gave a casual shrug, wanting to dismiss the possibility there could be more between them. This was not a conversation she was prepared to have. Whether this feeling was for the good or the bad was immaterial.
She was too confused about him still.
“Not nothing.” He drew his hand away as the sound of footsteps reached their ears. “May I get you a glass of lemonade, Miss Farthingale?”
“That would be perfect. Thank you, my lord,” she replied as three young ladies bustled in from the archery field. Among them was Lady Sarah, who wasted not a moment in drawing Tom away from her.
“Your butler can fetch her the lemonade.” She gave a dismissive shrug and put her arm in his. “You promised me a walk in the garden.”
“Indeed, I did.” He turned to the other two and held out his other arm for one of them to take. “Would you care to join us?”
“No,” Lady Sarah responded before her friends had the chance. “They are going to change out of their morning gowns. It shall be just the two of us. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.”
Her two friends cast Honey smug looks as Tom strolled away with Lady Sarah.
Honey said nothing, merely walked to the kitchen to ask Tom’s cook for a small lunch basket to be prepared for her. This was the perfect opportunity to steal away to the river and quietly read. “I’ll have it ready for you in a trice, Miss Farthingale.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Choate. I’ll run upstairs to fetch my book in the meanwhile.”
“A lovely young lady,” she overheard the cook remark to the housekeeper. “Nothing like them spoiled brats who think to gain his lordship’s attention.”
Mrs. Finch agreed. “His lordship knows quality when he sees it. I’ve noticed the way he looks at her. She’s special, that one.”
She continued to her room but took a moment to check on Tom’s mother. She was dressed and seated with Dora beside the window. It was a perfect spot to look down on all the activity. Her door was open, but Honey did not wish to step inside without permission.
Dora greeted her warmly. “Do come in, Miss Farthingale.”
“Thank you. I did not mean to interrupt. How are you feeling this morning, Lady Wycke? “Very well, Honey. Don’t you look pretty?” She smiled with genuine warmth. “Will you be joining the others in the garden?”
She shook her head. “No, I planned to do a little reading by the river this morning. But I will be back in time for painting this afternoon. Will you be out there with your brushes, putting us all to shame with your talent?”
Her smile wavered. “My son is keen on having me join in. I used to love to paint, but I’d hardly call myself a brilliant artist. Competent, at best. Probably not very good at it now. I haven’t picked up a brush in several years.”
“I’ll set up my easel next to yours if you don’t mind. Your paintings are so beautiful, I’d love to watch you. Even your worst will be far better than my best, I can assure you. Would you mind teaching me a little about your technique? You’ve mastered the art of light and shadow. In truth, I need help with all of it, the brush strokes, mixing just the right colors, bringing life to what I paint. I’m a rank beginner.”
His mother laughed. “It might take more than one lesson, but it will be my pleasure.”
She was heartened by Lady Wycke’s response. Obviously, this was one of her good days. Honey’s heart tugged. She wished they had met earlier, for this woman had a kind and gentle nature. No wonder Tom felt so protective of her. He and his sister must have been raised with wholehearted love. “Well, I’ll be off now.”
She leaned over and bussed her cheek, only afterward realizing it was quite forward of her. But Lady Wycke did not seem to mind and smiled back at her.
Honey managed to avoid most of the guests as she made her way down to a quiet spot by the river. She set out her blanket, placed the basket of food at one of its corners, and settled in to read her book. A giant oak provided ample shade. She heard the gentle rush of water as the current carried it downstream.
