by Amelia Grey
“You fell in the pond!” Heron pointed at Fallon and laughed.
“I did not,” Fallon yelled and grabbed his older brother around the neck to try and wrestle him to the rug. Youthful arms, legs, feet, and hands were flailing in every direction. Grunts and groans rent the air.
“Enough of that,” Seth said, pulling Fallon off his laughing brother. He stood him away from Heron. “Stop this, and tell me about falling in the pond.”
Fallon gave Heron a murderous look and tried to go after him again, but Seth held him back. “I didn’t fall in. I was stomping on the ice and it broke. Heron’s mad because he didn’t get to break any of it.”
“I am not!”
“Yes you are!”
Seth’s heart pounded as he envisioned Fallon going under the frigid waters. “Stop arguing and tell me how you got out of the water? How long were you in it? Where was Miss Prim and why was she letting you walk on an icy pond?” He was going to have a few things to say to that young lady and her careless ways.
“We weren’t on the pond, Uncle,” Fallon said. “Only my feet got wet. I was only at the shallow edge of the water stomping the ice.”
Seth’s pulse slowed and his temper cooled. For a moment he’d thought the worst. But Lillian wasn’t free from guilt. Cold wet feet could cause a child to catch a fever, cough, or something too worse to even think about.
“Yes, Uncle,” Heron said with a smile. “It was the best day. Miss Prim’s nice. She laughs all the time.”
“She smiles often too,” Fallon said, completely over his anger with his brother.
Oh yes, Seth knew how much she smiled.
“We like her better than Mrs. Barstaple,” Heron said. “Can she be our governess?”
“I’m afraid not, lads,” Seth said, letting go of Fallon shoulders since the fighting had seemed to pass. “She is a lady. Not a governess. She is only helping until Mrs. Barstaple gets well and rejoins us. Which I hope will be soon. Now where are your finished lessons? Let’s have a look.”
Both boys ran over to a short chest and each brought him several sheets of paper. A quick glance indicated that Lillian had indeed seen to it their written work was complete. He didn’t know if he was happy about that or a bit perturbed that she’d proved him wrong.
“It looks as if you accomplished everything and did very well, from what Miss Prim wrote.” He paused. “She didn’t help you with any of the answers, did she?”
Both boys shook their heads.
“And you read the assigned pages too?”
“I read mine out loud to Miss Prim. She wasn’t sure I could read.”
Seth ruffled his hair just as he had his brother’s. “I’m glad you showed her.”
“She did everything just the way you told me you wanted her to do it,” Heron said.
“I thought as much.” He laid the sheets aside. He, of all people, should have never doubted Lillian’s iron will to accomplish what she set out to do.
“Do you want to help me make Napoleon win this time?” Fallon asked, rubbing his nose with the back of his chubby hand. “I’m tired of losing.”
Seth righted some of the overturned soldiers. “It’s not a good idea to let the French win. Remember, they are the enemy of England. They are the bad soldiers and we are the good ones.”
Fallon nodded and smiled.
“You’ll win tomorrow night.” He turned to Heron. “Right?”
The older brother mumbled a reluctant “Yes.”
Seth said good night to the lads and headed down the long corridor that led to the main section of the house. When he reached the top of the stairs where the two wings of the house met at an adjoining sitting room, he stopped. If he had to guess, he’d say Lillian hadn’t made it down to the drawing room yet. Maybe he’d wait a few minutes to see.
He couldn’t let go of the fact she’d taken his nephews to a pond without taking her to task about it. He looked around the room. There were two settees facing each other with a table between them, four upholstered armchairs, and an uncomfortable looking bench pushed against the wall. He smiled. It was probably the one where the boys had been sitting when Lillian first saw them. He made himself comfortable, and within a minute or two was rewarded when he heard a door open and close. He rose from his seat.
Lillian strolled down the corridor toward him, putting on a long white glove. He watched as she fitted her fingers into the hand, pulled it over her small wrist, and stretched it up her slender arm. He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly. A tightness squeezed his lower stomach as he watched her intently.
Her dress looked as if it had been carved from the finest piece of alabaster. Colors of deep and light parchment swirled with patches of dark amber melting together into one silky, flowing fabric. In her hair she wore a band made from several strands of pearls. A single strand adorned her beautiful, slender neck. She was a vision of loveliness walking toward him and, for a moment, Seth forgot he was cross with her.
When she looked up and saw him, her steps faltered and then hastened. Concern etched her face.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing other than the fact that I could kiss you right now if I wasn’t so upset with you.”
Her gaze held steady on his. “It sounds as if there is contradiction in your feelings for me, my lord.”
“There is and believe me I feel the war raging inside me. So do you want to tell me how it came about Fallon was wading in a pond of icy water today?”
“Maybe I’d rather the other emotion inside you win and have the kiss.”
She was so damned provocative he almost reached for her.
“But then perhaps another time,” she hastened to add before he could respond. “When you aren’t at war with yourself.”
The depth of her mischievous smile grabbed him in the gut. Words that should irritate him seduced him.
“I’m glad Fallon told you about that incident,” she continued. “There was no harm done. I was going to tell you tonight myself. However, I will clarify that he merely stepped on the icy bank and his feet got wet—maybe up to his ankles. That is a far cry from wading in the pond.”
Many women had stirred Seth’s anger and his passions, but never had one stirred both at the same time. It was damned frustrating.
“Up to the ankles is too far,” he said, rekindling his annoyance at what had happened. “I suppose I must take some of the blame. I should have never agreed to your terms of letting the boys go outside to play.”
“Not letting them play outside for a little while is simply too harsh, my lord.”
“Cold, wet feet can make a child sick.”
“So can overprotective uncles,” she shot right back at him with her eyes suddenly flashing.
Am I? Maybe? A little?
No, he was simply trying to keep them safe. Lillian was wrong. His only goal was to see the lads to adulthood. They were boys. They ran, they jumped off things, they tussled. He didn’t know any way to take care of them other than govern their every move.
Lillian sighed softly. “I had bent down to retie Heron’s shoe and didn’t realize Fallon had wandered so close to the edge.”
“So you admit you took your eyes off him,” Seth accused.
“Yes. For a moment only,” she countered, her voice rising. “He was never in any danger. We brought him straight home and changed his shoes and socks. There’s no reason Fallon should get sick from this incident.”
“The lads’ parents were stranded in a freezing rain overnight.” His voice rose hotly too. “They both caught a chill and died within days of each other. So there may be no reason he should get sick, but I know it can happen.”
Her face softened. A flush heated her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how they—died.”
“Now you know why I’m so protective,” he said in a softer voice. “I won’t let that happen to them.”
“Yes. Of course, you’d want to be careful considering what happened to their parents. To
reassure you, I’ll say again, his feet were not wet nor cold for long.”
He gave her an unwavering stare, but finally said, “And perhaps I do overreact at times.”
She was contrite enough not to nod in agreement before asking, “Was there anything else wrong? Did I miss any of their lesson?”
No. “Not that I noticed.”
“That’s good at least.” Lillian started pressing her fingers into her other glove, wrinkling her brow as she did so. “But I wouldn’t be surprised if I had. It was downright scandalous how much work you gave them to do. If they keep learning at the rate you have them going, Eton will have nothing to teach them and they’ll be bored to distraction.”
Am I really that hard on them? All he knew was that suddenly two young boys, through no fault of their own, were thrust upon him. The only thing he knew to do was instruct them the way he had been taught when he was growing up. He’d certainly turned out all right.
Hellfire, it wasn’t that he wanted to be harsh, but he’d promised his sister the lads would not grow up wastrels. Each child would inherit a large fortune when he came of age. Seth had to see to it they knew how to respect it and manage it.
To Lillian he said, “Then I’ll consider I’ve kept my vow.”
“Have no fear on that, my lord.”
Seth’s gaze swept over her lovely face. Once again he had a great urge to pull her into his arms. “I should thank you for taking the lads on the carriage ride. They had a pleasurable afternoon of trying to catch snow in their mouths and rolling down hills.”
He loved the way her mouth formed a silent O. It made her beautiful lips look like a rosebud, and so kissable he wasn’t sure he could restrain himself any longer.
“Yes, I thought they enjoyed it very much too.”
She looked down at her glove as she slowly slid it up her arm, over her elbow to straighten it below the shoulder. Seth didn’t know watching a lady putting on a glove could arouse him so quickly and so thoroughly. From the first time he caught sight of her, his attraction had been instant and continuous. Every move she made seduced him. Even angry, he wanted to wrap her in his arms and breathe in her warm womanly scent.
“I’m going into the village with the other ladies tomorrow, but I can help you with them the day after if you would like.”
His gaze drifted to her lips again. “I can manage.”
“All right,” she said cautiously.
“On Sunday, I thought I’d take them to the paddock to see Crispin’s horses.”
“That would be exciting for them. An outing to look forward to at the end of the week. I’ve seen Crispin’s horses.” She paused and he watched her swallow. “They’re magnificent animals.”
“Would you like to go with us?” he asked, knowing he had no thought of inviting her until this very moment.
“To the paddock? Yes, that would be wonderful. If you’re sure I wouldn’t be in the way, and you don’t mind.”
Seth didn’t know that he’d ever seen such genuine delight in a young lady’s eyes. Mind? He wanted her to come.
“Fallon and Heron would like it if you joined us.”
“I’ll arrange refreshments.”
“I don’t want to keep the lads out too long. We’ll go after their lessons are finished.”
“Of course, after the studies are done,” she said a little too quickly. Then her lips twitched a smile, and she sweetly added, “I mean I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
She didn’t know how to hold her tongue. If she thought it, she said it. And he had no doubt she was as attracted to him as he was to her. “You are not fooling me, Miss Prim.”
She laughed pleasingly. “I know, but I needed to try.”
Their eyes met and held. Seth saw only guileless innocence in her, and he wondered for the third time if he had met his match. Who but Lillian had ever made him angry at her one minute and desiring her with his whole being the next? Whatever it was he felt for her, he was powerless to rid himself of it.
“You are looking very intensely at me, my lord.”
“There is a reason for that.”
This time, his desire for her would not be banked. Seth’s body heated, his loins expanded and ached. He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her up to his chest. She felt slim, firm, and wonderfully supple. As nature intended, her body relaxed and melted against him. With his mouth mere breaths from hers, he whispered, “I have never wanted to kiss a lady as much as I want to kiss you. So scream if you must, but I will taste you now.”
“I won’t scream,” she whispered as she rose on her tiptoes, slipped her arms around his neck, and pulled him closer.
Tightening his arms possessively around her, Seth bent his head and murmured “Sweet heaven” into her mouth as he claimed her lips with his.
Instinct told him to hold Lillian gently as if she were a delicate flower, to kiss her tenderly as he would a child’s cheek, but in his desperation to finally have her in his arms, her lips beneath his, all he could do was squeeze her tightly to him and kiss her deeply. Instinct told him this is what he’d been waiting for. Instinct told him she was the one he’d hungered for all these years and had never found until now.
Lillian’s lips parted, her mouth opened and accepted his passion. Her eager response to him left no doubt she felt the same heated desire and wanted him as much as he wanted her. With open hands he rubbed up and down her back, over her rounded shoulders, down to her narrow waist, and past the flare of her thin, shapely hip. She felt as divinely beautiful as she looked.
At times their kisses were slow and generous. Sometimes fast and short, but always passionate. Choppy breaths mingled with long contented sighs as they welcomed and experienced the spirals of sensations racing through them.
Seth rained kisses across her cheek, sprinkled them past her jawline, and swept them over to the warm spot behind her ear. He breathed in deeply of her lightly perfumed skin before leaving a moist trail of kisses down her neck and chest. With one strong hand he cupped her pliant bottom and fitted her softness against the hardness beneath his trousers. A satisfying groan of pleasure slipped past his lips as a small gasp of wonderment escaped past hers.
Somehow, through the drug of passion, Seth heard voices. He swore silently to himself. Lord and Lady Fieldingham were on their way down the corridor from the guest wing to the drawing room. More kisses would have to wait. If they saw him right now, they’d have no doubt about what he and Lillian had been doing.
He let go of her and stepped back. Confusion brightened her eyes. “I don’t leave you willingly. Someone’s coming. I’ll see you in the drawing room.”
And with that, he hurried down the stairs, wondering what the hell to make of his feelings for the duke’s sister-in-law.
Chapter 6
It was difficult for Lillian to keep her eyes off the marquis. His black wool cloak fit perfectly over his wide, straight shoulders, giving him a commanding air few gentlemen could match. His shiny black knee-high boots made him look like a scoundrel of the highest order and added a dash of mystery to his appearance as well.
The open carriage was quite fancy for the half-mile journey to the paddock and stables. Black-lacquered doors painted with fancy gold lettering and elaborate swirls, plush seats covered in a dark-green velvet fabric, and ornate brass-trimmed handles completed the elegant traveling coach.
After a bit of shoving, a thrown elbow or two, and a few words of arguing who would be the first to climb onto the conveyance, the boys settled onto the backseat with the fully packed picnic basket between them. They tucked the wool blankets around their legs while the marquis helped Lillian into the front. She arranged her skirts and opened her matching dark blue parasol, resting it against her shoulder.
A chilling wind blew from the north but there wasn’t a cloud, white or gray, to mar the promise of a splendid day ahead. Seldom did the sun beat down so brightly upon the earth from a clear sky when it was so late in the afternoon and so blasted cold.
The marquis had been a perfect gentleman since their kisses at the top of the stairs a few days ago. Their encounter had left her breathless, not to mention stunned by the intense desire she’d felt for him. She’d been held in a man’s arms before but never completely consumed by his embrace. She had been kissed. Softly. Briefly. Never so thoroughly that even remembrance of it caused delicious shivers to overcome her.
Oh, she feared she might have done the unthinkable and fallen in love with the Lord Wythebury despite her feelings that he was not the kind of man she should marry.
They’d exchanged long glances and polite conversation the past couple of evenings in the drawing room before dinner and later during the evening’s meal. Every time she looked at him, she remembered their kisses and hoped there would be more, but it wouldn’t be today. Not with the boys along.
Lillian had been attracted to Lord Wythebury the instant their eyes met. For a short time, she’d even thought maybe he was the one she’d been waiting for to fulfill all her dreams. But no, she could never consider marrying a man who was so strict and unyielding of his ways with children. They would constantly be at odds. Reluctantly she must resign herself to simply enjoying the marquis and his loveable nephews for only as long as their visit at Hurst lasted. She would do what she could to make sure Fallon and Heron, along with their schoolwork, had a wonderful visit as well. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about how heartbreaking it would be when she said good-bye to them.
The marquis took the ribbons from the driver, dismissed him, and then climbed up onto the seat beside her. They were an appropriate distance apart, another person could have sat between them. Still, Lillian was certain she felt warmth from his body, and an exciting sense of awareness of him bubbled inside her.
“Are you comfortable and warm enough, Miss Prim?”
She glanced up from Lord Wythebury’s strong-looking legs, cleared her throat, and said, “I am, my lord.”
He snapped the ribbons against the horses’ rumps, and the carriage took off with a jolt, rattle of harness, and clopping of hooves. Instead of going left toward the paddock and around the massive three-story house, they started down the long tree-lined lane away from it. The road had turned slushy and muddy from melted snow, black earth, and horse-and-carriage traffic.
