She arched beneath him as he thrust in her deep, over and over again, not being gentle. He couldn't summon gentleness now, although he gave a thought to the hard ground beneath her and tried to cradle her as best he could. They moved together in a frenetic and awkward tangle of limbs. He could feel her arousal climb and crest, feel her self-awareness ebb away into the delicious abandon she gifted him with. His own crisis neared with alarming intensity. His usual concern of timing and caution swirled through his lust-fueled brain. And then he recalled in a fleeting moment of lucidity, a woman with her flux is not fertile.
He gathered her closer, wanting to insinuate his very being inside her. The both of them seemed to become as one. Pleasure swelled and built in his groin and balls so that his eyes went dark and his mind knew nothing but the feeling of entering and leaving her, and entering again. She trembled beneath him, grasping him almost spasmodically. Her sighs rose to cries, and then to a long breathless wail.
He felt her contract around his rigid member, a warm and licentious sensation that brought his own control to an end. But for once he did not have to pull away. He buried his face in her hair and pounded his hips against hers. When he came inside her, finally, for the first time, it was like touching the stars. It was startling and magnificent. It was forbidden ecstasy. He rested inside her a long time afterward, thinking the forest floor hallowed by their joining there, in blood and lustful love.
"Lily," he whispered as they lay together in the darkness and soft, rustling trees. "Oh, Lily mine. My beautiful, beautiful lover." He buried his face against her hair and said no more than that. He still could not find the necessary words to say how much he felt.
Chapter Seven: Fitting Rewards
Autumn marched on and soon enough bright Lilyvale took on a bare, stark aspect. To Lily it felt somber, like waiting. Waiting for spring to return again, waiting for Claire's season, waiting for Lilliana to return. The looming end of her time with James still haunted her every day.
Lily had slept far later than she should. The servants must think her a hopeless lie-abed, but James kept her up quite late most nights. Not that she minded, of course. Heat rose in her cheeks, remembering some of their more recent activities. Since the dark night on the forest floor, James seemed to have left off any pretense of controlled and civilized desires, and Lily gladly helped him explore the shadows of his erotic imagination.
But now, in the light, when James was gone and she faced herself in the mirror, she had misgivings and no small amount of guilt. She was not married to James, and so what they were doing was immoral. No one judged her, of course, because no one knew. But she knew.
Kind Mrs. Gertrude was dressing her hair as if she were a perfectly moral lady and wife. Lily noted that Mrs. Gertrude's ailings were getting worse, and that it grew more difficult for the woman to manage her unruly mane, but Lily could not take away her pleasure. The old woman did so love to talk with "milady" and fix her hair "special," even though Lily's maid could have done it in half the time. But she rarely hummed her merry Scots tunes under her breath anymore, and complained often of headache. Lily noticed too that her hands had begun to shake with greater severity. Today, Mrs. Gertrude's face looked positively pinched.
"Mrs. Gertrude, are you quite well?" Lily asked. "I'm afraid you don't look in the best of health in recent times."
"Oh, milady, you know I've been ailing for some months now."
"You ought to have Lord Ashbourne send for a physician. I'm certain he would if you only asked. If you wish, I can ask him for you."
"The master had a physician out for me when the headaches first started, and the pains in my joints. The doctor wanted to put holes in my head and bleed me and whatnot, but the master wasn't having none of it. Said those procedures did more of harm than good. I have to say I was glad he took up against them. Seems barbaric, putting holes in an old woman's brow."
"That does sound barbaric. Perhaps one of the ladies in Smeeth might know of some more natural remedies. Simples or herbal teas or such."
"Oh, ma'am, I makes my own herbal potion what has helped me out greatly for a while. But lately I drink more and more and get worse and worse, and I can't say as why."
Lily raised her eyes to consider the woman, with her shaking hands and pale color.
"What type of 'herbal potion' are you talking about?"
"It's my own concoction I make using things I find in the kitchen and the garden. Berries and steeped seeds and such. It's rather tasty, I do say, whiles I do crush up the seeds first to make them go down easier. It's fortifying, I believe, to take these natural things."
"What kind of seeds? What kind of berries?"
The old woman looked alarmed at Lily's sudden interest, but being the daughter of a gardener, Lily knew some seeds and berries were toxic, like--
"Apple seeds," Mrs. Gertrude said. "Elderberries."
"And belladonna? What about yew berries?" Lily cried in frustration.
"Oh, no, lady. I know those berries aren't good for you."
"Nor are elderberries if they are not ripe enough. And crushed apple seeds! Mrs. Gertrude, you must desist at once drinking this 'potion' of yours. I daresay it is the reason you are feeling so poorly."
The old woman looked affronted at Lily's outburst, and put down the ribbon she was twining in Lily's hair. "I am not feeling so well just at present, I'll tell you." She turned stiffly and exited the room. Lily sighed into the mirror. Apple seeds had toxins inside them, her father had taught her that. Not a great amount, but enough to addle someone if they ingested enough. And elderberries? What was the old woman thinking?
Lily did the best she could styling her uncooperative locks, and then went in search of Hanover. She found him in the study picking up correspondence from James. She was so intent on her purpose she completely ignored her lord as she rushed to grasp Hanover by the arm.
"Mr. Hanover, I know what is the matter with Mrs. Gertrude, and I hope--I mean--if I am correct--" Her words fell over each other in her rush to express herself. James interrupted her gently.
"Lily, take a deep breath. What have you discovered?"
"Your mother-- Mrs. Gertrude-- She has been taking a most awful potion of her creation, believing it is healthful for her to do so, when in fact it is terribly poisonous."
"Poisonous!" Hanover exclaimed.
James rose from his desk and crossed to her. "How did you discover this?"
"She says she takes a potion with crushed apple seeds and the very wrong kind of berries. She thinks it helps her but I'm quite sure it doesn't. I tried to convince her to stop but she walked away looking peevish. Mr. Hanover, you must tell her to stop at once. Perhaps--" Lily looked over at James in entreaty. "Perhaps Lord Ashbourne can send to Tunbridge or London for proper tonics she can substitute."
James nodded in agreement at once, and Hanover looked both angry and hopeful. He pursed his lips and shook his head.
"That silly woman. I'll tell you, Miss Lily, she'll not take one more draught of that tonic now you've told me what's in it. All this time I've been watching her drink it, thinking it natural and healthy enough, not even knowing."
"My father taught me that not everything in nature is benign. Do not be alarmed, Mr. Hanover. Without the influx of poisons, perhaps your mother will get better and regain her right mind."
"Oh, if she would, it would be all my prayers answered."
"I cannot say for certain if the damage is reversible." Lily looked to James, who crossed to retrieve a thick volume from a far shelf of the library. He leafed through for a while, and then scanned a section with interest. He turned to Hanover.
"It says the body can detoxicate with time. You must simply ensure that she takes no more."
"She will take no more indeed! With your leave, sir, I'll go and tell her so right now." James nodded and Hanover strode from the room. Lily watched him go with a twinge of nervousness.
"Mrs. Gertrude will blame me for his anger."
He reshelved t
he book and came to her, and cupped her chin. "He is not angry. He only loves his mother." He ran his fingers up over her freckled cheeks, as he often did. "What a good girl you are, to discover what ailed her." His soft words nearly set her trembling, as did the approving admiration in his gaze. He tilted his head to kiss her, just brushing the corner of her lips. "My good girl," he whispered.
Lily leaned close against him and drew a deep breath. "Oh, sir," she sighed against his cheek. "I was only… It was only something I knew. When she told me about her potion, I knew what was wrong."
"Lilliana never talked to servants. She particularly abhorred Mrs. Gertrude for her weak mind."
"Abhorred her?" asked Lily, gazing up at him. "How unkind of her."
"Lilliana was unkind to her core. You…" Again his warm lips sought hers in a tender kiss. "You, Lily…" He pulled her closer, stroking her, cradling her. His hands seemed to take an inventory of her as she clung to him in breathless lust. His kisses were no longer tender, his caresses no longer gentle. His mouth slanted over hers as he clutched her close. The kiss went on until Lily felt positively weak. He let her come up for air and then kissed her again with a growl, and she reveled in it. She could feel his tensing shoulders as she held on for dear life, feel his stiff rod poking against her belly. She wanted him to take her then and there, against the desk or even down on the floor. She didn't care. She didn't care…
"Well then!" Hanover huffed as he re-entered the room. "I've had a word with her and she's promised me no more-- Oh!"
James jumped away from her and turned to the desk. Lily stood feeling terribly embarrassed. The door had stood wide open the entire time. Any of the servants might have seen James pawing at her in unrestrained passion.
"I am terribly sorry, my lord. My lady." The red-faced butler bowed quickly and turned to go.
"No. Stay, Hanover. This last letter is nearly ready to be posted. I was only telling Lily how good it was of her to discover your mother's ailment."
"Oh, miss. My lady." Hanover bowed again, then looked up at her with barely veiled worship. "I tell you true, 'twere a lucky day you rang at the side door. Pardon me for a sentimental man, but it were."
"Mr. Hanover," Lily said. "You'll make me get emotional." She turned to James, who was seated again at his desk, watching her with the smile that haunted her dreams. "I will leave you to your work."
* * * * *
At luncheon, the servants all bowed and smiled so much at Lily that she knew Hanover had been singing her praises. In truth, it was just a small thing. She only wished she'd discovered the problem earlier. James dismissed her self-deprecation and promised her "fitting rewards later," whatever that might entail. Lily got terribly aroused thinking on the possibilities. In fact, after lunch she crept to the attic the first chance she got.
She had secreted a lamp and some blankets up to the deeper recesses of the gloomy space as the weather began to turn chillier. She curled up now with one of her favorite volumes, angled toward the small window in the corner that admitted some of the early afternoon light.
The book contained a collection of short erotica stories, each of which was illustrated in a most explicit manner. She was much less shocked by the drawings and stories now than in the beginning, although she still had a lot to learn to be as worldly as James. She wanted to be as skillful a lover as him--if only shyness and shame didn't take over her at the most inopportune moments! She grew quite absorbed in a story about a woman who knelt and took her lover's parts into her mouth, caressing and kissing them to bring him pleasure.
More than once James had put his mouth on her, between her legs. She had burned with humiliation at the first, until he made it clear that he relished it. And then, when she realized how pleasurable it felt, she had forgotten all her reservations. She imagined if she did the same for him, he might have the same ecstatic expression as the fellow in the volume of erotica, but she had found herself, thus far, completely unable to initiate such an interlude. He had also not suggested it, leading her to believe perhaps he did not desire it very much. Or perhaps he did desire it, but assumed she was unwilling. It was just so frustrating. She felt so inadequate sometimes, but she hadn't the experience or imagination to meet his needs as he met hers.
"I just want to please you," she whispered in the stillness, with all the turmoil and uncertainty she felt inside. She closed the book with a sigh and rose from the blankets, turning to replace it in the trunk near the stairwell. She stopped short and stifled a yelp of surprise. James leaned against a beam near the trunk, watching her. Her eyes locked with his and she smarted with the shame of discovery. His gaze was shuttered, a deep blue mystery.
"You please me," he said. "Never imagine that you don't."
The book dropped from her fingertips with a dull thunk in the silence of the attic. How had he come upon her without so much as a sound? The answer was obvious. He had known she was there. Her stomach clenched at the thought he had known of her attic forays all along.
"I--I am so mortified, my lord."
"Don't be."
His words were clipped, belying the fondness in his expression. Lily finally looked away, flushed with embarrassment.
"I found your books. I mean, I suppose they are your books."
He chuckled softly. "They are indeed my books. You are welcome to peruse them as you wish. The only thing that piques my temper is that you felt you must hide up here in secret these many weeks to do so. Did you think I would not allow you to look at them if you asked?"
Lily thought a long moment. "I was afraid of what you would think of me because I wanted to look at them."
His mouth twitched, just slightly. "You felt ashamed?"
"Yes."
"You understand that I find this upsetting."
"I'm sorry," she said at once.
"Do not apologize," he replied just as quickly, with much more temper in his tone.
"Just…please…do not be angry with me."
"What is the worst that will happen if I am angry? I might decide to spank you, a fate you suffer anyway already for my pleasure, nearly every day. No, I am not angry with you. I cannot be. You are simply a product of our times. Sensuality and hedonism are not the hallmarks of a finely bred lady, are they?"
"But I am not a finely bred lady, am I?" Lily replied with a little lift of her chin. "What would you have me be? Your lofty Lilliana? A good girl? Or a whore like those women in South Street?"
His mouth tightened. "I would have you be Lily, which you well know. Do not try to anger me on purpose. I think it is you who is angry and conflicted."
His gaze was calm, his stance relaxed. It was Lily who clenched her fists and felt, yes, very angry and conflicted. She wanted to give him all, but she was afraid to. The more she gave, the more she loved him and the more endangered she felt. Whatever she gave would be lost tenfold one day, when another woman, like her but more privileged, decided to return and take her rightful place. Every moment with him seemed precious and weighted with a sort of tragedy. It did anger her, very much.
"I do not like that I will lose you one day," she blurted out. She bent to pick up the book and held it clutched against her front, the tight tension inside her coiling into a sort of excited, angry lust for him. She lifted her chin again and spoke quite forwardly. "I do not like anything about this, if you must know. It is all terribly painful for me. Except for…except for my times with you."
"Bring me the book. Show me what you were reading just now."
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No."
"It seems to have put you in fine fettle, whatever it was." Finally he crossed to her, prying the book from her stubborn fingers. She shifted and turned, intending to flee the attic, but he shot his hand out and caught her arm. "You will stay. Kneel. Right here."
He pointed at the spot at his feet and Lily sank slowly to her knees. She felt the beginnings of a subtle unwinding, a letting go. His pointing finger was like a much-needed signpost. Do this. I say so. Of
course, it was simpler that way. She was only angry and frustrated because she was trying to control things when he was master of that craft. She could hear him above her, leafing through the pages lazily. He gave her the book back.
"Open it to the page you were just reading." His voice brooked no resistance now, and she offered none. She turned to the story of the woman pleasuring her lover with her mouth and held it in her lap, her head bowed. He snapped his fingers and she handed it up to him. He looked at it a moment and then reached down to tilt her chin up. Still, she could not meet his eyes.
"Look at me, Lily." She looked up, her heart pounding. "Does this appeal to you? Are you curious about doing this?"
"Well…I…it's--"
"'Yes, sir' or 'no, sir,' if you please."
"Yes, sir," Lily said in a voice so soft as to be nearly unintelligible.
"Louder. And damn it, look at me."
"Yes, sir," she said, gazing up at him in entreaty. "Please, I just don't know how-- It's difficult for me to--"
"To what?"
"To be as bold as you."
His fingers stroked her chin and released it. "Luckily for you, I am bold enough for us both." His hands were already working at his clothing, pushing back his jacket and unbuttoning his braces. He undid his trousers and produced his startlingly erect member. "I am not ashamed to admit that I have wanted this same thing for some time."
She frowned slightly. "If you are so bold, why did you not ask?"
"I would have, eventually. There are still many things I intend to do with you. But to do them all at once might be too much for your feminine sensibilities."
Lily stared at the jutting evidence of his arousal and thought her female sensibilities were about to be sorely tried. She waited on her knees in front of him, not knowing how to commence from this point.
"Touch my cock," he said. "Explore it with your hands."
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