“I didn’t mean to sound angry with you,” he confessed. “I am angry but with myself, not you. You are everything that I have ever wanted and the fact that I have given you reason to doubt that galls me. You don’t need fancy garments or shocking colours to tempt me; you would be irresistible in a sack.”
“But you looked so… interested when I mentioned it,” she said in a small voice.
“There is something… provocative in the idea of debasing an angel, but the benefits aren’t worth the shame I'd feel. You are tempting enough as it is, and I don’t ever want you to change.”
“And what happens after five years, when you are tired of looking at the same body every night?”
“We’ll cut your hair and pretend you are Lilly, Lucy’s evil twin.”
He felt the corners of her lips twitch against his chest but when she spoke her voice was serious.
“But truly, Max, what will happen?”
Max put a finger under her chin and gently tilted her head up, until he could look into her eyes.
“I can’t promise what the future will hold for us but I can promise that I will always love you, and I can’t ever see there coming a day when I don’t desire you.”
“And what if that day does come?” she asked searching his eyes for her answer.
“If that ever happens, then we’ll talk about it and decide together what to do.” Max cupped her face between his hands and willed her to believe him. “I will be faithful to you, Lucy, today and forever, you have my word.”
Whatever she saw in his eyes was finally enough to relax her and she nodded and gave him a tentative smile, then she moved so that she was straddling his lap, her wet heat pressed against his length.
Max groaned with need as she began to rub her slick channel along the length of his shaft and he quickly swelled in readiness. She slipped a hand between them and guided him to her entrance, closing her eyes as she sank down, letting his arousal fill her.
Their coupling was quick and frantic and they were both panting when finished.
“Three times in one night,” Max panted. “You’re going to be the death of me if you keep this up.”
“Me?”
“Admit it, you’re just as insatiable as I am,” he said, smiling up at her. “You rode me like a Wild West cowboy!”
Lucy giggled at the image.
“Perhaps I should get some spurs,” she teased. “And a whip, for when you aren’t performing up to par.”
Although he had barely had time to soften after their last coupling, he felt himself swelling within her once again.
Lucy raised one eyebrow, a satisfied smile on her lips. “And you call me insatiable?”
***
Each couple had been assigned a suite of rooms within Steed Manor, consisting of two bedrooms, two dressing rooms and a sitting room. Some couples shared a room, but propriety meant that they must at least give the appearance of having two rooms.
Unfortunately for Giles, Mr and Mrs Porter were genuinely in love and shared a bedroom each night.
Her loose tongue and the discovery of her unusual undergarments the other evening had not been just a lucky happenstance; Marie had told Giles about her undergarments.
It turns out that some gentlemen are rather loose lipped when in the arms of a beautiful woman and thanks to idle pillow talk, Marie knew at least some information about everyone here, even those that she hadn’t met. Her attendance of Maxwell’s club in London also helped in that regard, as the gentlemen talked freely among themselves, seemingly unaware of her presence most of the time and when they were aware of her, they viewed her as one might a servant, trusting that their secrets would be kept.
It was thanks to Marie that he knew that Adam Porter wasn’t the staid gentleman that he appeared to be for at one time, he had used Marie’s services himself. He had purchased a set of silk chemises for her to wear when they were together and after making a discreet enquiry and a donation to the dressmaker, Marie knew that he had ordered more very recently. She knew that he didn’t have a mistress at present, so there was only one possible recipient of the garments.
She had also told Giles that Abigail Porter was prone to get a little inappropriate when she overdid it with the demon drink. So Giles had pressed alcohol onto Abigail Porter, spiking her drinks to make them even more potent and leading the conversation to some inappropriate places, once she had imbibed enough. He had actually been the one to mention silk chemises, at which Abigail blushed and he pressed her, until she finally admitted that her husband had purchased such garments for her.
Giles knew that he couldn’t enter her bedroom with two of them in there. Even if he could slip a sleeping draught into Abigail’s drink (which was unlikely since she had been avoiding alcohol since that night) he knew that he couldn’t drug both her and her husband, not least because Mr Porter seemed to have developed an intense dislike for Giles, probably because he would insist on flirting with Porter’s wife.
It was hard to do anything discreetly in a large house such as this during the daytime, when servants usually outnumbered guests on a seven to one ratio, or thereabouts, so it had taken two days for an opportunity to arise and finally, he slipped into her bedroom, mercifully unseen, emerging two minutes later with a small bulge under his jacket.
Chapter Fourteen
As Max drove his father around the estate, showing him all the work being done to modernise the land, his father remained mostly silent. Finally they reached Oak Point, the highest hill on the estate and one that afforded the best view, so he slowed the gig to a stop. Neither man spoke for a long time, both absorbed with their own thoughts, although the subject was the same.
“I was beginning to think that you would never grow up,” Charles finally broke the silence. “I’m proud of the enthusiasm you have for this place, Son.”
“I didn’t want to grow up,” Max admitted. “I didn’t want a life that I felt had been forced upon me.”
“I know,” his father sighed. “Perhaps I pushed you too hard.”
Max didn’t know how to reply to that. The answer was yes, but could he really be that cruel to a dying man?
“I remember when I was a lad,” Charles continued. “I too didn’t understand why I couldn’t forge my own path in life. I craved freedom, much as you did, I suspect and it was Lucy’s father, William, who finally made me appreciate what I had.”
Max waited silently for his father to continue.
“Living in the same county, our families had always been fairly close. William and I were only two years apart in age, so we often played as children but like Lucy, William’s father died young too, when he was just 16. He had been forced to assume the mantle of Earl and all the responsibilities that brought with it. Far from disliking the life thrust upon him though, he began to appreciate the wider perspective it gave him. He met people that he had barely known existed before; his tenants, the poor, and when he assumed the role of magistrate, criminals types as well.”
Since helping Lucy with the estate, Max had met a lot of people who would be considered ‘beneath’ him in many people’s eyes, but he really hadn’t noticed until his father had pointed it out.
“Lucy wrote to me, telling me about your suggestion for the tenants who had fallen behind on their rents, so they could remain in their homes. I knew then that you had the potential to be a wise man, even if you didn’t want to be. I wasn’t so lucky as to have a Lucy, but I did have William.” He paused then and let out a long sigh as he leaned forward, his arms resting on his knees as he looked out over the land.
“We had drifted apart after he took on the role of Earl; he felt that he had to remain here, while I went off to university. He was also somewhat dull, I believed, so I didn’t try to keep the friendship alive. I was about 22 when I met William again, at a gathering in London and I was much like you, unreliable, irresponsible, hedonistic. William invited me to the estate for the summer to meet his wife and young son and I agreed, although my beha
viour showed little improvement then. I even tried my hand at Mrs Parker.”
“The housekeeper?” Max sounded shocked.
“She wasn’t housekeeper then and in her youth, she was a very attractive woman. Thankfully she didn’t fall for my charms, but I need you to know the kind of man I was.” Charles sighed. “Anyway, William told me all about the orphanages that he’d been setting up, although I thought the idea foolish. I told him that more orphanages would only mean the poor were more likely to give their children up.
“We were playing cards one evening when, a little the worse for wear, I hit a losing streak. William bet me that I couldn’t work for one week in his orphanage, in lieu of payment. I accepted and lost the bet, which is how I found myself spending a week helping to look after urchins, trying to teach them to read and write, basic arithmetic, as well as general duties around the place. I was thoroughly disgruntled for a few days but gradually I began to realise that these children, even although they possessed nothing, not even a mother’s love, had far more character than I did. And they weren’t poor because they were stupid, many were quite bright; and they weren’t abandoned because their parents thought it easier to give them up, their mothers agonised over the decision, often being forced into it after being widowed. I began to talk to the children and to really listen to their stories. Some couldn’t remember their parents but most were older when they came, so they could remember the circumstances which brought them there.
“I realised that I felt hard done by for no good reason. Compared to these children, I didn’t know what hardship was. That week changed the course of my life.”
They were silent for a few moments as Max contemplated his father’s story.
“I guess the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Max noted.
“Perhaps. Or perhaps in trying to spare you my character defects, I forced them upon you.”
“I know you didn’t mean to be so hard,” Max admitted. “And honestly, I’m not sure what I was frightened of anymore.”
“The inevitable,” Charles said with certainty. “We all want to believe that we are masters of our own destiny.”
“I’ve missed the man you were when I was younger,” Max admitted. “The relationship we used to have.”
“And me.” Charles’ voice cracked as he said that and he dabbed at his eyes with his handkerchief.
Max gave him some time to rein in his tears, feeling a little emotional himself.
“I know about your illness, father.”
Charles nodded as he neatly folded his handkerchief. “I thought Lucy would tell you.” He smiled, glancing at Max to let him know that he didn’t mind. “Her loyalty is to you now, Maxwell. Is that the only reason you did all this, to prove to me you can run my estate after I'm gone?”
“It’s not even part of the reason,” Max assured him. “Lucy only told me a few days ago. But I wish you would have told me.”
“So that you could feel even more pressured into this life?” Charles asked.
Max acknowledge the the point with a shrug; knowing that his father was right.
“How long have you got?” Max asked, although he dreaded the answer.
“Hard to say. Months probably, at least a year my doctor says but there are no certainties. He’s seen people live with consumption for seven years, and others who perish in a year. I'm still relatively healthy though, which is a good sign.”
“You’ve lost weight.”
“I don’t feel hungry very often. I force myself to eat but it’s hard sometimes.”
“And the cough?”
“Under control with the laudanum. Your mother thinks that I just have a very stubborn cold, and I’d prefer it if things stayed that way.”
Max nodded his agreement. His mother was a lovely woman but she was a terrible worrier. She had an attack of nerves every time a letter in Michael’s hand arrived, terrified that he'd been killed in conflict. She always failed to see the flaw in her logic; that he couldn’t write to tell her of his own death. The thought of her husband being ill might very well worry her to her own grave.
“I can help on the estate, if you need it,” Max offered.
“Thank you,” Charles patted his son’s hand. “But I can manage at the moment and besides, this is your first year of marriage, you should enjoy it while you can.”
“Thank you. Would a visit be out of the question?”
“Of course not, and your mother will be thrilled to see you both again. She feels rather lonely, now that all her birds have flown off and built their own nests.”
“I think you should tell May, Maude and Madeline too.”
“I have been wondering as much myself,” Charles admitted. “They are all sensible girls, not like your mother.” He gave an exasperated sigh as he spoke of his wife, something all his children were well used to.
“You love her really,” Max teased.
“No, Maxwell,” he turned to his son and smiled warmly. “I adore her. I don’t think I could have lived with her nerves for all these years if I didn’t.”
Max smiled at the correction and nodded his understanding. They sat in silence for a few more minutes.
“Father, why did you force me to marry?”
“Honestly? Because I didn’t know what to do with you, but I hoped that it might bring you and Lucy to your senses. Had Lucy turned you down, I wouldn’t have forced you to marry another.”
“You knew she loved me?”
“My dear boy, I think everyone but the two of you knew.”
“Why did no one think to tell us?”
“People did, including me but sometimes, it’s hard to see the wood for the trees. Ever since she lost her parents, Lucy has always been a very guarded young woman, afraid of getting hurt again and so you assumed that she didn’t care for you, at least in that way. You on the other hand, have always been rather fickle so naturally, Lucy feared becoming another one of your conquests. Still, all’s well that ends well, as they say.”
“Indeed,” Max smiled. “We should probably head back soon and see how the tournament is going.”
“Yes; lunch will be served shortly, and your mother will worry if we’re not back.”
Max urged the horse forward and they headed along the estate roads, towards the house.
“What will you do with your mother once I’m gone?” Charles asked, taking Maxwell by surprise.
“Well I'm not going to turn her out onto the street, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, dear boy, but she will be lost without me, at least for a time. She will need much care.”
“To be honest, Father, I haven’t come to terms with the idea of losing you yet, so I haven’t given a single thought to what might happen afterwards.”
“It’s just that you have two estates now and if you should choose to live in this one, you won’t leave her behind, will you?”
“I may be irresponsible but I have never been cruel, Father. Whatever happens, mother will be well taken care of and I have no intention of leaving her to live on her own.”
Charles nodded and patted his son’s shoulder. It was a somewhat awkward gesture but Max appreciated the sentiment nevertheless.
***
Max was changing for dinner when Lucy came into his dressing room. Max smiled at her and leaned down for a kiss.
“If you were hoping to see me naked, you’re too late,” he said, shrugging into his waistcoat.
“Drat,” Lucy teased. “You have seen through my cunning plan. I suppose I have no choice now but to strip naked and wait for you in your bed.”
She headed towards his bedroom but a firm arm snagged her around the waist and she felt his breath on her neck as he spoke.
“Unless you want to be late to dinner, I wouldn’t even joke about that!”
“Who says I was joking?” Lucy relaxed back against him. “Besides, the apéritifs will last the best part of an hour.”
Max began to nibble on her earlobe and guide
d her through to the bedroom. She had just turned and begun to unbutton his waistcoat, when there came a knock on the door.
Max groaned and reluctantly stepped away.
“Leave it,” Lucy suggested.
“It’s just the valet with my frock coat. I noticed a stain yesterday evening but forgot to give it to him.”
Although he didn’t like help to dress, every gentleman needed a valet to take care of his wardrobe, just as a lady’s maid did for her mistress.
Knowing it wouldn’t take long, Lucy made herself at home on the bed, just in case Max should be considering having a chat with the man. She removed her sapphire bracelet so that it wouldn’t get damaged in their tryst, but she missed the bedside table and it tumbled to the floor. She could hear Max and the valet talking as she reached over the side of the bed for the bracelet, where a flash of red caught her eye.
She knew what it was before she even touched it, for hadn’t the talk of the weekend been Mrs Porter’s colourful silk chemises? A sinking feeling settled in her stomach as she looked over to Max.
Suddenly she knew she needed to be alone and fled from the room, through their sitting room and into her own bedroom, locking the door behind her, then locking the main door to the hallway.
She began to pace the length of the room as she tried to get her thoughts into some kind of order.
***
Max didn’t know why Lucy had run from the room, so after taking the jacket from his valet, he went around the other side of his bed to see what had frightened her. He expected a rat, or perhaps a large spider given how pale she looked. Lucy wasn’t usually prone to fears but when she first came to live with his family, Michael had tortured her by chasing her with things such as live spiders and once, a half-dead mouse. If he succeeded in catching her, he would put them down her clothes, leaving her with an undue amount of fear of those creatures.
Instead all he saw was her bracelet, which he bent down to retrieve. He picked up the red silk that was poking out from underneath the covers under the bed, thinking that perhaps it was a handkerchief or a scarf that Lucy had left in here but much like Lucy, his heart sank as he realised what it was.
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