Gwen watched as the man regained control of himself. He stood up straight and walked right past her through the door in the wall. Christopher walked behind him and threw her a sheepish smile as if embarrassed by his grandfather’s display of emotion. Gwen squeezed Christopher’s shoulder to show she understood. For a few days now Gwen had almost convinced herself she was living in long-gone time. It certainly seemed that way out here in the foothills with no internet, no televisions, and no cell phone reception. But the old man climbed into a late model Lexus and drove away, Christopher standing watch as the car disappeared from view.
Gwen gave up on her stroll and returned to her cottage. As she swung open the door, she found Edwin waiting for her in the drawing room.
Chapter Eight
Gwen could only marvel at the sight of him for a moment. She would have been less surprised to find The Bride dancing the samba in her parlor than she was at the sight of Edwin standing there.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said after recovering herself. “I don’t recall you knocking on my door.”
“For the record, I did knock. I’m not to be blamed that you weren’t here to hear it,” Edwin said.
“So you just let yourself in?”
“Yes.”
“That’s breaking and entering.”
“I broke nothing,” he said. “So it’s merely entering.”
Gwen pursed her lips at him.
“Are you here to fire me?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I can’t fire you as I haven’t hired you,” he said, his hands still in his jacket pockets. He seemed to be attempting to look casual and comfortable. Instead he looked tense and worried.
“I did good work with the boys this week. I just want you to know that. We had great discussions. And they wrote fantastic essays on what it means to be a gentleman. You should read them. You might learn something.”
Edwin’s eyes flashed again. Then he sighed and nodded.
“I owe you an explanation, Miss Ashby.”
“Yes, I think that you do,” she agreed and sat down on the sofa. Out of pure spite she counted ten seconds before asking Edwin to have a seat.
He picked up one of the wooden chairs and moved it in front of where she perched nervously on the edge of the sofa.
“Monday night,” he said as he sat down and faced her. “No. I’m starting in the wrong place. Forgive me, Miss Ashby.”
“Didn’t we have this discussion? You can call me Gwen. Or Gwendolyn if that’s just too casual for your liking.”
“I like Gwendolyn.”
“My grandparents always called me Gwendolyn. I liked it when they did.”
“And when I do it?” he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. Usually he sounded so sure of himself, so stolid and sturdy. A small hairline crack formed in her anger at the sound of his nervousness.
She smiled at him.
“I like it when you do, too,” she admitted.
“Very good then, Gwendolyn,” he said. “I’m not quite sure where to start. Miss Muir left us so suddenly, and I admitted Samuel to the school…things have been complicated ever since. Complicated enough I don’t feel comfortable bringing in an outsider to our unique situation.”
“It’s not a unique situation. You pissed off some parents. Students left. Now you’re rebuilding the teaching staff and the student body. Lots of schools go through this, Edwin.”
“No school has ever gone through what ours has gone through. Not entirely. I’m certain of that. And there would be consequences—serious consequences—if I let you stay.”
“You know you need a new literature teacher? Are you planning on teaching Ivanhoe for eternity?”
“I didn’t mean there would be consequences to letting a teacher into the school. Although there would be. What I meant… what I mean is…Gwendolyn, if I let you in…”
Edwin looked at her with imploring eyes and a hand over his heart. Now she understood. He didn’t mean there would be consequences to letting her in the school. No, he meant there would be consequences to letting her in his heart.
“Edwin…” She reached out and took his hand in hers. He looked down at their clasped hands as if he’d never seen such a thing before—a woman taking a man’s hand in her own.
“It’s not in my nature to have casual dalliances. I have never had casual dalliances. It’s not the gentleman’s way to play with a woman’s affections without honorable intentions.”
“Honorable intentions?” Gwen repeated, utterly incredulous. “You mean if we become lovers, you’ll want us to get married?”
“I believe that is the definition of honorable intentions.”
“Are you really religious or something?”
Edwin furrowed his brow. “I was christened and raised in the Church of England. Of course I’m not religious.”
Gwen pondered that a moment. The pondering turned into a laugh.
“You are living in the wrong time,” Gwen said, taking Edwin’s hand in hers. “You should have been born in the Regency era. You would have made a wonderful Mr. Darcy.”
“I take that as a compliment,” he said, a smile at last playing across his lips. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, although briefly blinded by prejudice against Miss Bennett’s family situation, allowed his better instincts to hold sway. He knew a marriage of true minds and good hearts was vastly superior to a union born out of pure duty to his station in life.”
“I also think Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy wanted to rip each other’s clothes off.”
“I believe you’re reading a great deal of subtext into the work.”
“I love the subtext,” she said, squeezing his hand. “You know, I had the boys write essays this week on what it means to be a gentleman. You want to know what I think a gentleman is?”
“I believe you’re going to tell me whether I want you to or not.”
“I am,” she said, putting her hand back in her lap. “I think a gentleman respects women and doesn’t pretend to know better than his lady what is good or bad for her. I think a gentleman is brave enough to eschew the silly rules society tries to enforce on women. I think a gentleman tells the world to mind its own business and concerns himself only with what he and the lady in his life want to do together in private.”
“You have an interesting definition of gentleman.”
“It’s admittedly a little self-serving. Then again…that was the most amazing kiss of my life, Edwin.”
Her lips still tingled with the memory of that incredible kiss.
He exhaled heavily, a little shudder in his breath. She knew how he felt.
“I’m pleased to hear it affected you as much as it affected me. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since Monday evening. Gwendolyn, you must understand that it’s not in my nature to behave rakishly with you. I respect you far too much.”
“Then respect me enough to trust that I’m old enough and wise enough to make the decision to be with you and to live with the consequences. I’m twenty-five years old, Edwin. I’m not a virgin. I’m on birth control. I’m an adult. Please treat me accordingly.”
Edwin raised his hand and caressed her cheek.
“If only it were that simple,” he said and lowered his hand.
Gwen saw something in his eyes, a look she didn’t quite understand but desperately wanted to. It wasn’t shyness so much as reticence. He had a secret he wanted to tell her but didn’t know how.
“Your wife was the only woman you’ve ever been with, wasn’t she?”
“A gentleman should not discuss such personal matters with a lady.”
“What if that lady is his lover?”
“Then that’s a different matter entirely,” he said.
“How long has it been since you’ve been with someone?”
“A very long time,” he confessed almost sheepishly.
“Then you should come upstairs and make love to me. I insist,” said, as she took his hand and placed it on her thigh.
“You insist?”
“Yes, and it would be rude of you to say no to such a humble request.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?”
“Quite,” Gwen said as Edwin slid his hand up her thigh. Gwen shivered from the heat of his touch.
“Ungentlemanly even.”
“First, do I have the job?” she asked. “We should probably decide that now. Might not be a good idea to make a hiring decision in bed.”
“Yes, you are hired. Thirteen boys stood in my office today to tell me they would mutiny if you weren’t hired.”
“Only thirteen?” she teased.
“That’s all that could fit in my office. The rest stood in the hallway.”
“I never want to leave this place,” Gwen said, looking Edwin into his dark green eyes.
“If you truly feel that way, then you’ll never have to.”
Their lips met again and just like the first time they kissed, Gwen felt a shock of electricity traveling through her entire body. She’d never known desire like what she felt for Edwin. He seemed equally enamored of her. She quickly found herself on his lap, his arms around her as his mouth poured kisses onto her lips. She pushed Edwin’s jacket down his arms as he assaulted her neck with bites and licks. The heat from his tongue penetrated her skin. As soon as his jacket was off, he lifted her up with shockingly strong arms. He carried her up the stairs to the bedroom and laid her carefully on the soft white sheets. She sat up and unbuttoned his vest while he kissed her again. She ran her hands up and down his chest, feeling its hardness under the silky cotton of his perfectly pressed shirt.
As much as she wanted to tear Edwin’s clothes off, she held back and let him take the lead. She wanted him to take the lead, wanted him to do whatever he wished to her as hard and as often as he wished to do it. For all his earlier apprehension, he now seemed entirely collected, in charge, and determined to make love to her. His mouth traced a path from her lips to the center of her chest and back again. He gently pushed her onto her back and unbuttoned her blouse with adroit and purposeful fingers. She couldn’t wait to be naked for him. Such a man deserved to have a woman in his bed giving him pleasure every single night of his life. She wanted to be that woman.
He unbuttoned her blouse and pushed it apart. He kissed the tops of her breasts as his fingers caressed the lacy edges of her bra. For what felt like eons he gently tortured her with his mouth and his hands, touching every part of her except the parts that most wished to be touched. She thought he was teasing her at first by making her wait so long, but then she realized he was simply being gentlemanly even now.
“Edwin,” she whispered, laying a hand on his cheek. She felt the slightest hint of stubble on his face, so sturdy and masculine. “I want you. You don’t have to be afraid to do to me anything and everything you want to do.”
“You say that now,” he said with a roguish smile. She smiled back.
“I’ll say it after, too. Promise.”
Her words had the desired effect. Edwin pushed her skirt up her thighs all the way to her stomach. He wrenched her panties down her legs and tossed them onto the floor. She opened her legs for him, eager for him to see her. With one hand he loosened his tie and pulled it off. With his other hand he pressed one and then two fingers into her wetness. She gasped at the first penetration. Pleasure exploded from the core of her and reverberated through her entire body as he touched her inside.
“More,” she begged and he pulled his fingers out of her and opened his pants. She couldn’t get him inside her fast enough. He parted her inner lips with his fingers opening her up. She felt the tip at the entrance of her body. Slowly and deeply he pushed into her. The pleasure was beyond anything she could have imagined as his thick inches spread her wide open. He embedded himself in her with one quick hard thrust, and Gwen gasped his name.
Edwin covered her mouth with his hand and Gwen froze. Then she heard the sound of boys’ voices just outside her cottage. Edwin smiled down at her and whispered a quiet, “Shhh….” She nodded her head and he started to move inside her with long, slow, deep strokes, his hand still over her mouth. She didn’t mind it. She loved his forcefulness, his control of her and his own body. They were still dressed, both of them. Only the parts of them joined together were naked. But she loved this, loved feeling sealed to him, naked hip to naked hip.
Slowly he let his hand slide from her mouth down her neck. Gwen struggled to keep herself silent. It was torture not to sigh, not to moan as Edwin pulled the strap of her lacy bra down her arm and bared her right breast. He latched on to it and sucked, his tongue swirling around her nipple. She was burning, burning alive from the touch of his hands on her, his mouth on her breast, his length filling her up more than any man ever had in her life. She pushed her hips up against him. She would die underneath him if she didn’t come soon. The pleasure built up in her like a bullet in a chamber desperate to fire.
They made love in near-total silence. Only a few hushed grunts and gasped escaped their throats. The students playing right outside her cottage might overhear any sound they made. The silence intensified the pleasure as she had to hold everything inside when all she wanted to do was moan and gasp and let it all out. They felt like conspirators, she and Edwin, as they moved together in necessary silence. She clutched at his shoulders and wrapped her legs over the back of his thighs. He teased her nipple again and again while the hardness of him inside her pushed into her with slow but brutal thrusts.
His mouth found hers and she kissed him hungrily. Yes, she wanted this for eternity, wanted to give him this pleasure until the end of time, wanted to be the woman in his bed who spread her legs for him, welcomed him inside her, and gave him a safe place to be the powerful, strong, erotic man he was born to be.
His hands scored her back as the speed of his thrusts increased. She felt the pounding in the pit of her stomach, felt her inner muscles tensing around him…wetness poured out of her and onto the sheet beneath her. Never had she felt so wanton or so primal in her life. It was as if this man were more than human, and he made her something more simply by entering her body with his.
He placed his hands on either side of her shoulders and pushed himself up so that their hips alone met. She lay beneath him, a being of surrender and submission. He closed her eyes and lost herself in his thrusts. The need mounted in her, the knot in her stomach tightened. When she came, it was with his hand once again over her mouth to stifle her gasps. Her shoulders flinched off the bed as her climax burst through her, every muscle inside her furiously fluttering around him. Once she’d ridden out her own orgasm, he finally came. He looked down at her and met her eyes for one perfect moment before shutting them tight. His entire body went still as he came inside her, filling her with his heat.
Gwen wrapped her arms and legs around him as he collapsed on top of her. She couldn’t get enough of the warmth of his body and the feel of his rapidly racing heart against her naked chest.
He kissed her as he gently pulled out of her.
“Now that,” she whispered, “was gentlemanly.”
Chapter Nine
For a few beautiful minutes Gwen lay in Edwin’s arms doing nothing but breathing and relishing the way her body reverberated with the aftershocks of the sex.
“I can’t stay in your bed tonight,” he whispered. “I have a duty to set a good example for the boys.”
“If those boys grow up to be half as good in bed as you are, then their future wives and girlfriends will owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“Don’t even mention wives and girlfriends to those boys. They already beg me to let girls into the school enough as it is. No matter how often I tell them the school’s charter specifically states the endowment will be revoked—”
“Now that does sound terrible. I’d never want your endowments revoked.” Gwen curled up on Edwin’s chest and gave him a wink.
“I’ll revoke my endowment if you don’t behave yourself, young lady.”
Gwen
only laughed. How beautiful to see Edwin so relaxed, so at peace. Tomorrow they would return to publicly declaring how much they disliked each other but tonight she knew they both felt the rightness of their union.
“Speaking of endowment, do I not get to see you naked?” she teased. He’d already straightened his clothes and combed his fingers through his hair. Her disheveled appearance and his wetness inside her were the only proofs that just minutes before Edwin had been buried inside her and thrusting wildly. She adored both Edwins—the civilized headmaster and the primal lover. But tonight she wanted the lover, not the headmaster.
“See me naked? Miss Ashby, I have to wonder if you’ve ever seen an unclothed man before. We aren’t nearly as aesthetically pleasing as women.”
“I beg to differ. I’d far rather see you naked than see myself naked. I see myself naked all the time.”
“Then I envy you.”
“Would you like to see me naked?” she asked. She still had her skirt on, her shoes, her bra that she’d pulled back up. Even her blouse was still on if unbuttoned.
“Without a doubt. But there will be time for that.”
“Is now the time?” she asked, tossing her shirt aside.
He kissed her quick and smiled.
“No. But soon. Alas, duty calls. It’s Friday evening, my turn to monitor the dining hall.”
Gwen glanced at the clock on the wall—6:30. Dinner every night was served at seven o’clock on the dot. She’d asked two days ago who did all the cooking, and she’d been stunned to learn the boys cooked their own meals. It was an innovation Edwin had implemented. The students needed to learn basic culinary skills. A man should not rely on his wife or mother to take care of him his whole life, was the reasoning. The boys might join the military or delay marriage for years to finish their schooling. Knowing how to take care of themselves was part of being true gentlemen. Also it fostered a sense of community, Mr. Price had told her. The boys served each other, learned to plan, learned teamwork. And no one had gotten food poisoning yet. Still, a kitchen full of teenage boys could turn to chaos in an instant so the teachers took turns monitoring the dining hall.
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