“Thank you, Mrs. Chambers,” he said with another nod before making his way out of the kitchen and up the servants’ stairs. He hadn’t gone far before Parkerhouse stepped out of his quarters.
“My lord?” he said, obviously surprised to find the earl on the servants’ stairs.
“Yes, Parkerhouse. Would there be a pasteboard box ... about so big,” he held out one hand to indicate a small size, “That a gift of coins might fit into?”
The butler puffed out his chest as he considered the earl’s question. “I believe there is one in your study, my lord. Your latest book arrived in it last week. And there’s a letter for the countess on your desk.”
Henry considered what book that might have been. One on farming, no doubt. “That should do, Parkerhouse. See to its placement on the desk in my study. I’ll need it directly following dinner.”
He thought to give the coins to Parkerhouse for him to clean and put in the box, but some things were too important to have a servant do. He took his leave of the butler and continued up the stairs, wondering if he might catch a glimpse of Hannah before she changed for dinner. Opening the door that led to the main hall, he caught sight of her conversing with the housekeeper. She held a long sheet of parchment, and Hannah and Mrs. Batey were both studying it. His heart clenched as he watched her face light up in delight at something the housekeeper had just said.
He continued to watch, leaning his tall body against the door frame.
In only a moment, the countess seemed to sense that someone was watching her. She slowly turned to find the earl, his arms crossed over his chest and one foot crossed over the other, doing just that. “My lord!” she spoke with a hint of surprise. She excused herself and moved to stand before him as the housekeeper hurried off with the parchment. About to curtsy, Hannah was suddenly pulled hard against the front of his body. “Oh!” she managed to get out before Henry’s lips came down onto hers. Although he had frequently kissed her without preamble in their bedchambers, he had never blatantly done so where anyone could witness their indiscretion. Hannah finally reached her hands to his neck and returned the kiss, a slight moan escaping before Henry eventually released her.
“Good afternoon, my lady,” he whispered, his nose grazing her temple and forehead before his lips touched her forehead.
“And to you, my lord,” Hannah whispered back. She quickly glanced around, thinking a footman or maid might be witnessing their tryst.
“There’s a letter for you in my study. And no one saw us,” Henry whispered, his arms wrapping around her waist and holding her hard against his front. “I have it on good authority that no one is here but us,” he murmured. The sound of a throat clearing had him grasping Hannah closer to his body as he moved to protect her from their interloper.
“Pardon me, my lord,” Parkerhouse said in his most bored sounding tone. The butler moved by the couple and headed toward the study, disappearing into the room without a backward glance at the earl and countess.
Clearly mortified, Hannah had to move a hand to cover her mouth. “Henry!” she managed to get out before her husband let her go.
Not the least bit embarrassed at having been found in error, Henry grinned. “Come, my lady. I have something to show you,” he said with a hint of mischief.
Hannah’s face turned bright pink.
“Not that, my lady,” he said as he realized his manhood had created a bulge in his doeskin breeches. “These,” he said as he held out his handful of sovereigns.
Her eyes widening at the sight of the dirt encrusted coins, Hannah gave him a curious glance. “Where did you find them?” she wondered, one long finger pushing the top one aside to reveal another below. She thought there had to be at least a half-dozen in the stack.
“I didn’t. Harold did,” he said as he turned and offered her his arm. Hannah placed her hand on it and walk alongside him as he explained what had happened in the newly plowed field the year before. “Parkerhouse is getting a box for me now. Once I have these cleaned up, I’ll see to it they’re returned to Nathan.”
Hannah’s mouth formed an ‘o’. “He’ll be so relieved to learn of their discovery,” she breathed. “But what of your signet ring? Wasn’t that in the same treasure box he buried?”
Henry grinned as he held up his other hand. The ruby caught the candlelight of a nearby torch. “Safe and sound, although it needs a good cleaning,” he announced proudly. “As does Harold. Billy is seeing to that right now.” Hannah stopped, a look of horror on her face. “What is it?” Henry wondered, his brows furrowing.
Hannah shrugged but did not return the earl’s gaze. “Are you ... angry with him?” she asked, her voice very quiet as they entered his study. The pasteboard box was already on his desk, its lid sitting off to one side.
Henry’s brows continued to show concern. “Of course not. He found the treasure, Hannah,” he said with a shrug, as if Harold’s behavior could be excused because something good had come of it. “He’s actually a very good dog. Just as loyal as his predecessor and a bit better looking, I must say.” He found the letter Parkerhouse mentioned and was about to hand it to her.
At that, a brilliant smile appeared on Hannah’s face. Henry’s heart seemed to clench at the sight of it, but he reminded himself they were talking of her pet just then. He thought of her making that brilliant smile when told that one of their children had done something good. “Now, I just want to get these coins cleaned up a bit before I package them in this box,” he said, giving her a peck on the cheek. “And then I’ll get dressed for dinner.” He glanced at her again, his gaze locked on her when he noticed a look of mischief on her face.“What is it?” he wondered. Dumping the coins onto his desk, he moved to wrap his arms around her waist.
“I think you should leave them just as they are, with their bits of dried mud,” she murmured in a quiet voice. “The way real pirates might find them.” She gazed at him through her lowered lashes.
Henry chuckled. “And what, pray tell, do you know of real pirates, my lady?” he teased, giving her a peck on the forehead.
“Only what I read in stories, of course,” she replied with an arched eyebrow. “Just because I look like I stepped out of the pages of a fairy tale doesn’t mean I’ve only read those kinds of books.”
Intrigued by her comment, Henry moved a bit closer, one arm moving up to her shoulder. “And what story might you be thinking about this very moment?” he whispered, his lips taking purchase on her temple.
Hannah inhaled sharply, thinking fast to come up with the most titillating tale she could think of. She was now certain she was with child, but once she told Henry, she feared he would no longer come to her bedchamber every night. He had only promised to bed her every night for another two weeks. The thought of spending her nights alone made her feel quite bereft, empty even. “Lady Godiva,” she whispered, her lips moving to leave their mark along his jaw. She felt Henry’s body stiffen and then wondered if she should have come up with a different tale.
“I do not tax my tenants beyond their ability to pay,” Henry whispered back, his teeth capturing her earlobe. “In fact, I do not tax them at all,” he added, sounding as if he’d taken umbrage at her suggestion that he was an autocratic leader.
Hannah let out a slight squeak. “I was thinking of you more as the ... noble steed,” she clarified, her eyebrow arching when Henry caught her naughty look. “You know. The horse she rode so fast and so hard as she was making her protest.”
Henry stared at her for a very long five seconds. Then he glanced about the room, suddenly in a panic. “Well, I ... I can’t very well take you on the desk,” he murmured, his attention moving to various chairs, tables and even the fireplace.
Moving to the door, Hannah drove home the bolt lock, turned, and leaned her back against the panel. With her hands behind her back and her head resting against the door panel, she regarded her suddenly discomfited husband with that arched eyebrow. “Lady Godiva mounted her horse, Henry. Not the other way
’round,” she said in a voice so silky she didn’t recognize it as her own. She stepped forward, removed a slipper using the toe of her other slipper, and lifted her foot to the edge of the desk. With one hand, she raised her skirt to just past the knee, revealing a shapely calf encased in a sheer silk stocking. “You’ll have to play my lady’s maid first, of course. And then the horse.”
Henry gulped. “I can do that,” he said, his voice not sounding the least bit in control. He moved to the other side of the desk, his hands reaching out to rest on her leg. That’s when he noticed the clear outlines of hardened nipples beneath her bodice. She was aroused, there was no doubt of that. The fact that her nipples were evident meant ... the minx wasn’t wearing a corset!
And then he had to remind himself that he had left that morning before helping her dress. But Lily was back to being her abigail. Which meant ... had she planned this assignation? Had she chosen not to wear a corset in anticipation of seducing him? The thought excited him, addled him so thoroughly he found himself quite willing to do whatever she asked.
Slipping a finger under the edge of the silk, he managed to get the stocking to roll down her leg. When it popped off the end of her toes, she lifted her other leg and gave him an expression of feigned boredom. He quickly removed the stocking on that leg, rather proud he was able to do so without snagging the silk.
Lowering her leg from his desk so that she stood on bare feet, Hannah waited patiently while Henry regarded her with barely controlled lust.
“Lady Godiva was naked, Henry,” she whispered, wondering why he was staring at her with such a besotted look on his face. She could hardly believe what she was doing, but Elizabeth had been quite insistent that play acting was good for a relationship. Keep him guessing, Hannah. Keep him interested. Keep him entertained.
Blinking, Henry moved to stand behind Hannah. His hands were at her shoulders in an instant, his fingers fumbling to undo the buttons down the back of her gown. “I can do this,” he said again, his voice sounding husky. “I’ve become very good at it these past few days,” he said, referring to her frequent requests of assistance when undressing for bed. As a testament to his words, the gown, along with her chemise, were suddenly pulled up and off of her body.
Inhaling sharply, Hannah realized she was completely nude. Turning only her head, she could feel Henry’s eyes raking over her backside before she saw him step up to press the front of his body against her back. His hands had moved up to cup her breasts, his lips to press against her temple.
Hannah resisted the urge to simply allow him whatever he thought he was about to do. Reaching behind her, she undid the fastenings of his breeches, knowing she had successfully freed them when his turgid cock sprang forth to press against her spine. Her hands moved to grab handfuls of his shirt and lift them from his breeches. A shiver arced through her when she heard his growl, although it was probably from his fingers wreaking havoc on her nipples and breasts. She turned her body around to face his, her hands pushing down on his breeches.
Realizing her breasts were no longer in his hands, Henry blinked and saw to removing his shirt. In a moment, he, too, was standing naked in the study.
Hannah gave him a brilliant smile, her face pinking up as she did so. “Time for my ride,” she said, placing the flat of her hand against his chest and maneuvering him backwards toward an armless chair. Breathless, Henry sat down, hard, and leaned back, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as Hannah placed her hands on his shoulders and swung one shapely leg over his lap, straddling him. Her swollen breasts were suddenly across from his mouth, her wet sheath coming down onto his erection. In an instant, he had her impaled and trembling as his hands gripped her bottom and his mouth took purchase on a nipple.
“I am afraid this may be a very short ride,” Hannah whispered between gasps for air as his manhood filled her. She was so aroused, it would take but a moment for ecstasy to send her into oblivion. Her arms wrapped around his neck. She held on as she lifted and lowered herself on her toes. Then she realized Henry’s hands, branding her bottom and hips with their heat, were lifting and lowering her as well.
He was suddenly as deep inside her as he would ever be. She clenched hard on him, desperately wanting his ecstasy to match hers. “Henry!” she cried, gripping his back with all her might. The matching groan from Henry sent vibrations through both their bodies. His mouth let go of her breast to say her name in a breathless prayer as his entire body spasmed into pure pleasure that had him almost rocking out of the chair. He stilled himself and once again buried his face into the soft white skin of her bosom.
Boneless and breathless and quite shocked at what she had done, Hannah slumped against Henry’s chest, the side of her head coming down to rest on his shoulder.
“I am suddenly very jealous of horses,” Henry murmured, the words muffled against her skin.
A giggle burbled up from Hannah. “You needn’t be,” she countered playfully.
Henry lifted his head to regard her, a smile still on his lips. It faded slightly as he took in the sight of her blushed body, so wanton and lush and lovely. He realized he should have removed the pins from her hair, so that the silken mass might form a curtain around them. “What ... what was that all about?” he wondered, his brows furrowing suddenly. He made a move as if to lift her off of him, but Hannah clenched hard on his manhood while her hands clung to his neck.
“No, please,” she begged. “Don’t leave me just yet.”
Frowning at her response, Henry tightened the hold of one arm around her back while he lifted a hand to cup the side of her face, wondering at her sudden look of fear. “Hannah, what is it?”
Shivering, Hannah shook her head. A tear had formed in the corner of one eye. She blinked several times in an effort to prevent it from escaping, but it did so anyway, leaving a wet trail along her cheek.
Alarmed, Henry straightened in the chair, his hold on her tighter. “Hannah!” He wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Are you hurt? Did I ... hurt you?”
Hannah was shaking her head, though, and sprinkling the top of his head with urgent kisses. “No, no, nothing like that,” she whispered, dipping her head so that she might see his eyes. “I received a letter from Her Grace, the Duchess of Chichester,” she finally said, her voice so small Henry barely made out her words.
“Lady Charlotte?” he said, his face brightening a bit. Then, when he considered Hannah’s hesitant manner, he became concerned. “Is she .. well?”
Nodding, Hannah loosened her grip from around his neck but left her hands firmly on his shoulders. “Very. She and His Grace plan to make a spring trip to London so that she can make amends with her father. And then she and the duke would like very much to pay a visit here before the Little Season starts in the fall. That is ... if my lord is ... agreeable with the arrangement.”
Henry frowned at her sudden formality. “A moment ago, you were Lady Godiva and I was your horse, as I recall. You’re to call me ‘Henry’. Especially when we’re alone. Even when I’m a horse,” he added with feigned amusement. But he saw the unsure look on his wife’s face turn to something approaching fright. “Of course, she and the duke are welcome to visit. I, in fact, invited them to do so. Any time they wish. Ellsworth Park ...”
He paused, suddenly wondering if Hannah knew of the details of his brief betrothal to Charlotte Bingham. He’d spoken of her when he first courted Hannah, but he avoided telling her he might have married Lady Charlotte. Had he forced the issue, Henry was quite sure Charlotte would have agreed to the union. But even then, Charlotte had known there would always be a rift between them over the circumstances of the betrothal. The woman would have a scar for the rest of her life because of that damned betrothal. Now that Charlotte was married to a man who had his own scarred visage, Henry wondered if the duke knew how her scar got there. If he did know, had he been forced to accept his less than perfect duchess out of a sense of guilt? Or had he simply fallen in love with the lady and married her in spite of it? The l
atter, he decided, realizing he needed to tell his wife why he held the title to Ellsworth Park. She was Charlotte’s friend. She would understand what had happened.
He was about to continue his comment when Hannah placed a hand along the side of his face. “Ellsworth Park was part of her dowry,” Hannah spoke softly. “She wrote to me about what happened.”
Suddenly embarrassed when he realized Hannah knew more than he thought she would, Henry nodded. Charlotte was her best friend. Of course, the duchess would have written to Hannah. She would have explained what happened that day when Henry showed up at the Wainwright estate intending to ask for Charlotte’s hand in marriage. “The deed had already been signed over to me. When we agreed we should not marry, she insisted I keep Ellsworth Park. To keep it from her cousin.”
Hannah nodded. “I know. And I ... I am in her debt,” she stammered, her eyes searching Henry’s. At his quizzical expression, she added, “If it hadn’t been for Charlotte, do you think ... would you have ever ... sought me out? To be your wife, I mean?” The last words came out in a mere whisper, Hannah’s lips trembling.
Henry stared at her for several seconds. Would he have pursued Lady Hannah, the daughter of a marquess, if Lady Charlotte hadn’t directed him to do so? Would he have been so bold as to show up at Devonville House and request an audience with the marquess in order to ask for the man’s permission to court his daughter when he hadn’t even met the chit? And, if not, would he have eventually met Hannah? He would have been forced to attend a Season in London in search of her. Someone certainly would have introduced them at a ton ball or a musicale or a soirée. But the possibility of never meeting Hannah – he found he could not imagine such a scenario. “I would have had to,” he replied quietly. “I cannot imagine my life without you,” he added in a hoarse whisper, his face displaying an expression of shock.
The Seduction of an Earl Page 31
