“Well, I have work that I must see to,” his father said. “But I bid you take heed to my warning, Seth. I forbid you to any involvement with that servant. You shall marry that of wealth and status, preferably Miss Cassandra, and I'll not see you settle for anything less. Is that understood?”
Before Seth could reply, Anvil quit the room. Seth walked to Margaret's side and reached for her trembling hand and offered a comforting squeeze. Clearly, his father's words about Zachary and Myra cut her deep and had upset her. Understandably, his father’s declaration caused him distress too.
“There’s no truth in it,” he assured her.
“But father wouldn’t lie about him wanting to purchase Myra's contract. He has no reason.”
“True,” Seth agreed, “But there still has to be a sensible explanation.” Zachary truly enjoyed his visits with Margaret, and although Seth didn’t particularly care for Zachary initially, he did gain a slight amount of respect for him when he believed his feelings for his sister were honorable and true. Margaret had made it clear that Zachary hadn’t taken any undue advantage of her. Taking Zachary's roguish reputation under thought, it was nearly unbelievable considering Margaret’s continual need to please him. Her gullibility made her a perfect mark. A sickening feeling plagued Seth’s stomach. Actually, he concluded, very odd indeed. Seth nearly groaned aloud. Of course, he wouldn't, he thought. Not if his true intention was using Margaret so he’d get closer to Myra from the beginning. Damn, he cursed inwardly. I’ll kill the bastard!
“I shall talk to Zachary on the morrow and find out what this is about,” Seth promised.
“Oh nay, Seth.” Margaret gripped his wrist tightly and wrenched out a sob. “You mustn't.”
“Why not? Surely you want to know the truth about this matter.”
“Nay…Well, aye, but…What…What if—”
“Tis best we know now.”
Margaret swiped a tear from her eye, and with a reluctant nod, agreed.
* * *
The stars twinkled bright and Myra snuggled her head deeper toward Seth's chest as she lay on the ground within his embrace. “I wish we could stay like this forever,” she said.
Distracted, he hummed an unintelligible reply that Myra assumed was his agreement.
“Oh, Seth, look,” she said, and pointed toward the sky. “There goes a star soaring across the sky.” She closed her eyes for a moment and gave appreciation for the magnificent sight, but when she opened her eyes, she noticed that he was further away from her than the stars that she admired.
“Seth?”
“Hmm?”
Myra turned in his arms and fully faced him, and for the first time that evening, it seemed he finally had taken notice that she existed. “Is there something bothering you? Have I wronged you in some way?”
“Nay, of course not,” he smiled and caressed the side of her cheek. “There is a matter I’m preoccupied with, tis all.”
“Is there a problem with your father? Has he learned about us?” Myra sat up quickly and hesitantly looked around, as if they were being watched.
“Aye, he does suspect something, but that isn’t the matter that concerns me. Although,” he said as he sat upright, “I’ve decided that I’ll tell my father everything about us.”
Panic struck her and she held a painful breath within her lungs. She stood up, but Seth reached for her and brought her back by his side. “You know how I feel about us hiding our relationship, Myra. And by the truth, I’ll not stand for it much longer.”
“You know how I feel, Seth.”
“Why, Myra? What is there to wait for? I lo—”
Her finger quickly went to his lips and silenced him. “Please, Seth, just give me some time.” She couldn’t bear hearing the words. Not when she continued lying about her true identity. Mayhap one day she’d hear his words of love, but she wanted them said to her true self, not the servant she was forced into being. He captured her hand into his and placed a soft kiss in her palm and then on her wrist. Shivers of delight ran through her.
“Time for what?” He closed his eyes and tightened his grasp on her hand. “I don’t want us waiting any longer. It bothers me to know you go without so many things that I can easily afford you. You deserve the finest, and I want the freedom to give you everything—everything your heart desires.”
Myra leaned over and kissed his lips and softened his hardened jaw as his anger escalated. He searched her eyes and a peaceful expression washed over his face.
“Marry me, Myra. Be my wife.”
“Marriage?” Myra looked at him thoughtfully and turned away. She stood and walked toward the trees and leaned against a large, ominous looking oak. Her face pressed alongside its cool bark. The stolen moments they shared together could only be that, moments. Myra realized that long ago.
“We can't,” she whispered. She couldn't love anyone more than she did Seth, and although she dreamt of the moment he’d ask her hand, she knew it’d remain a dream. Anvil wouldn't ever accept her into the Preston family, and Seth couldn’t be happy, not truly, if he lost his father’s respect. He’d one day resent her for it.
“There is just so much you don’t understand, Seth.” How could she ever marry Seth and not tell him of her past? She already denied the claims when asked and felt best leaving it as it was, the past. And what if she had the courage and told him the truth? He’d feel obliged to procure their future children’s rights of title, especially since her uncle was the last of their line and notably known as not being capable of producing children for heirs. If Seth didn’t pursue it, Anvil would push him into doing so. And that would involve a confrontation with her uncle. If Seth was harmed, or killed, she couldn’t bear the pain of his loss. Although he was strong and quite cunning in his own right, she didn’t know if he could handle someone as dastardly as her uncle. What if she lost Seth in the process, as she had lost her parents? Nay, she wouldn’t think about it, nor would she tell Seth the truth about her past. Not unless Mary was found safe and the world was ridden of her uncle. If that time came, then she would she tell him the truth.
“Nay, I cannot marry you, Seth.”
“You don’t want to marry me?” He frowned and his hand raked though his disheveled blond hair. She hurt him, greatly, and his pain broke her heart, especially when he had brought so much pleasure into her life.
“What’s wrong with the way things are now, Seth? We’re happy, are we not?”
When Seth took a step toward her, she walked away, and used the tree as a blockade between him. It was difficult to refuse his proposal when Seth stood so close to her. Something her heart truly wished she could do.
“There’s a lot wrong with the way things are now, Myra!” Exasperated, his hand swept across his face and then clinched tightly at his sides. “Every time I see you, I want you in my arms and wish we could make love, you must know that.” He firmly held her arms in a grip that poured out his desperation. “Yet, until I can properly bed you as my wife, I cannot dishonor you.”
“There’s no dishonor in us making love, Seth. Whether you take me as your wife or not, tis only you who shall ever be in my heart. I belong to you, always.” She leaned against him until her lips touched his and she incited a passionate kiss. His arms gathered her close and she suggestively writhed within his hold.
“Please,” she said as her words flirted against his lips. “Make love to me now, Seth. We’ll not make our desires for one another wait any longer.” Some foreboding intuitional sense deep within her warned they may not have another chance.
His arm went behind her knees and he lifted her into his arms. He cradled her against his chest and he stared lovingly at her, but hesitancy shadowed his eyes.
“We can’t, Myra.” But when she wrapped her arms around him, and her body melded against him, he moaned as if pained. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Aye,” she whispered. Her hands caressed his shoulders and then her fingers slid through his full, blond tufts of h
air. She spread kisses down his neck. Within his arms, she felt safe, comforted, and most of all, truly loved. That was where she belonged.
A patch of lilies blanketed the ground near them, and Seth placed her amidst the soft bed of flowers. He hovered over her a moment and watched as she rested in the serene fields of the Preston lands. The look of passion in his eyes, and the love in his heart, let loose with wild abandonment.
Gad, how she loved him.
Seth loosened the lace of his cravat and their lips met again. His kisses ventured down her neck and journeyed across her heaving bosom. He released the ties of her gray dress and opened the way for more exploration. When Seth exposed her breasts, he released a moan of desire.
“You are so beautiful.” Seth gasped aloud as the remainder of her clothes slipped through his fingers. “Tell me true, Myra,” he said in a raspy voice. “If you have any notion of changing your mind; I beseech you, speak up now.”
She smiled and reached for his hand and placed it on her breasts. His muscles tensed and another low groan escaped. “I don’t wish you to stop, Seth,” she assured through half masked covered eyes.
He looked at her and Myra felt as though he swathed her heart and soul in a ray of warm light. Every moment she waited for his touch felt like a lifetime between her panted breaths. Untamed passion cried out for release, and she couldn’t wait any longer.
“This is forever, Myra,” he said before he took her mouth.
“Forever,” she repeated, but her words were lost in the passion as their hearts raced in unison, beating rapidly in the heat of their desires.
CHAPTER TENAnvil rode to the edge of the ridge and spotted two forms below in a lover's embrace. Inwardly cringing, his hands flexed at his sides to form tight fists. Everything told him to speed his horse forward and save his son, and himself, from the clutches of the girl, but Anvil paused. It’d only succeed in Seth's anger and resentment if he acted on the impulse. Nay, he thought. He would have to find another way to end the intimacy that was taking place between the two.
He nudged his horse away and began to take the path below that led to the lovers. An unseen disturbance could cause them separation, he thought. He edged down the hill until he neared the bottom. Anvil slowed his pace so the sound of the horse's hooves wouldn’t give him away. His mind wandered to a time in England when he, too, had stolen time to be with a servant whom he fancied to be in love. Unlike Seth, there was no threat of him trapped by the sanctions of marriage. He'd already wedded Anne ten years prior when he met Hester, Lucia's mother. Hester and his clandestine meetings were once the most enjoyable days of his life. Hours of frolicking under the trees, playing lover games, and sharing each of their hopes and dreams. Yet it all had to end, and bitterly, at that.
When Hester realized she carried a child within her, Anvil was proud and wanted to announce to everyone that the child was his. He hoped to give his new child the best he could afford as he did for his other children, but then Hester revealed the truth. She'd been involved with a manservant who Anvil had in service. Hurt and betrayed, and vowing he’d punish Hester for her wanton behavior, he sent her away and kept the daughter who showed so much resemblance to himself. As Lucia grew, her likeness shifted toward her mother’s appearance. She then became a constant reminder of what he once had and what so cruelly was taken away. He couldn’t allow his son to experience that pain nor would he allow another lowly servant to take advantage of a Preston. They couldn’t be trusted!
Dismounting his steed, he closed in, only an earshot away and prepared to interrupt the lovers, but the sound of Seth's proposal gave him pause and he froze with the gun in mid aim.
“Be my wife, Myra,” Seth said. Nay, Anvil wanted to shout, but he held his words. With bated breath, Anvil waited and prayed she’d refuse his offer. He knew it unlikely, but he hoped for the best.
Anvil lowered the gun to his side and shook his head in defeat. What could he do now? There must be a way to prevent this from happening, he told himself. No matter what, he’d protect his son. Anvil raised his musket again, setting his sight on Myra’s forehead. The moon gave just enough light for his target, and his finger steadily held the trigger.
He couldn’t do it. He wasn’t a murderer; Angry, but not a fool. There was another way to work out the problem.
Quietly walking away, Anvil mounted his horse. Dark clouds slowly crept into the skies with promise of showers, but it wasn’t the safety of home that Anvil pressed toward before the storm came. Nay, he aimed his mount toward Zachary Frederickson’s home.
* * *
There was a look of grace that illuminated her face. A proud smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Seth reveled in the fact that he delivered that content look upon her.
Her lids lowered. Myra’s eyes hazed over with a passionate gleam within the riches of her bright, amber eyes. Dark black hair framed seductively around her face and the reddened highlights of her ebony hair shined in the moon's shimmering glow. A moan called out and she begged for more in soft whispers. When he fulfilled each appeal she made for more, she cooed out her thankfulness.
Seth held himself in check and was careful that he’d not rush her. He wanted her experience remembered with thoughts of pleasure and not that of pain. He wanted her spared the initial discomfort once he entered her, and reminded himself that he’d lessen her uneasiness by going slow.
Myra thwarted his plan.
It was difficult going his allotted pace, and Seth's muscles tensed. She writhed against his body with her supple curves, and when her hands took firm hold of his upper thighs, she urged him toward herself.
“Myra. For your sake, we mustn't rush,” he urged. Although pleased by her enthusiasm, he nearly lost all self-control. She relentlessly pursued him.
Myra's hands remained firmly in place, still in a tug-of-war with his body as she urged his body onward. Her head rose and Myra’s tongue grazed over his chest in seductive, enticing swirls. Her leg rose and entwined around his, and her limb made a slow caress of his thigh until it finally found rest on his backside. A pressure beckoned him forward again when she used her leg and brought his body, his manhood, closer. Even so, he retained a slow tempo so she would be well prepared.
“You are more than a man could ever hope for, Myra,” he whispered in her ear.
“Take me now, Seth,” she urged.
With his hands splayed on either side of her face, he looked down into her eyes. “Are you sure? Tis truth that it shall not be pleasant at first.”
She moved upward until her lips met with his again. Her hands entwined through his hair, and with a soft sigh, she whispered, “Aye.” Her voice faded within the crook of his neck.
In one quick thrust, Seth entered her. A sharp intake of breath inhaled between her lips by the motion, and he paused a moment as he felt the pain stab at his heart for her discomfort.
“Are you all right, Myra?”
She didn’t answer for a few excruciating seconds, but when she did, she replied with sensual exploits instead of words. Her hips rose and it allowed him further entrance, and then another gasp escaped, but it wasn’t like the one she had made a moment before. Myra's hands gripped his shoulders and her nails raked deep into his flesh. Her head reeled back, and a content look cascaded over her face. She lunged forward again as she met each of his strokes.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, and although he didn’t want their passionate moment ended, his body sought surrender. When Myra’s body prompted release by the reaction of his, he smiled.
“Tis perfect, Seth,” she said with a timid smile. A blush tinted her cheeks. She quickly rolled over and sought her clothes that splayed across the lilies.
He reached for her arm and stopped her. Laughter rumbled within his chest. “You now become bashful?”
She wouldn’t look at him, and in a tremulous motion, she bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know what came over me. T’was…T’was like…Well, like I let loose of everything within me. As if a t
otal loss of restraint. I’m sorry,” she said embarrassed.
“I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way,” he assured. He caressed her cheek with a brush of his fingers and then turned her face, and made her look at him. “You were wonderful and I truly couldn’t ever imagine being in such perfect harmony with anyone else as I am with you in our lovemaking, Myra. You should never be embarrassed about that.” His hand moved from her cheek and brushed against her breasts and down her waist. He kissed her lips, soft and gentle. “You’re so lovely, Myra, and if not for this being your first time, I would take you again this very moment.”
An ornery smile creased her lips, and the blush of her uneasiness quickly faded away. “Then you mustn't let me stop you.”
Aye, indeed, Seth thought, she was more than any man could hope for.
* * *
“Where have you been, Myra?” Lucia whispered as she entered the door.
Myra sat on her bed, careful not to rouse the other women servants in the room. “I was with Seth,” she mouthed in a very low whisper.
“I figured as much.” Lucia sat up and rested her weight on a single elbow, her palm supporting her cheek. “I think Mister Preston followed Seth tonight, Myra. I went out to the necessary, and I watched him take the path Seth had taken when he left.”
Myra's heart felt heavy and her cheeks warmed at the possibility that Anvil witnessed her and Seth's lovemaking. Despite the darkness covering the blush that heated her cheeks, she hid her face with her hands. “Are you sure he followed Seth? Could he have been only going into town, perchance?” Myra rose and removed her dingy wool garment. Pulling dried leaves from the faded material, Myra’s mind wandered, and she daydreamed about her and Seth’s shared unison of love.
“I don't think so. He came out of the house and followed Seth like a man with a purpose. He certainly trailed after him.”
Myra’s hand went to her chest and she took in a painful rush of air. “Dear Lord, Lucia, what shall I do?”
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