Devlin jerked on his waistcoat. It did not help. Before Sebastian turned around, he decided to leave, lest he find himself in dire straits. Turning around he walked briskly towards the door. When he was at the entrance, he looked over his shoulder. “Pray, forgive me, but I have forgotten a most important matter I must attend to, at once.” And with that, he hurried from the room and ignored the curious stare from the doorman as he donned his coat. He walked out into the brisk morning air, admonishing that time had definitely not diminished that particular desire in the least bit.
Sebastian barely caught a glimpse of Devlin before he disappeared and was exceedingly grateful he had excused himself. Although he did wonder what he was up to? With Renquist, one never knew. He turned his attention back to the matter at hand, forgetting Renquist quickly. He decided to drink something a bit stronger for the conversation he planned to have with Marguerite.
I wasn’t a big drinker and never normally drank during the day, but watching Sebastian pour his own drink, I suddenly wished he would pour one for me as well. I felt even more unsettled from the leering looks his aunt’s husband had thrown in my direction every few minutes. He must have thought I didn’t notice, but I was very well aware how he had been ogling me. I wanted to poke my fingers into his eyes for acting like such a perv.
Sebastian finished pouring his drink, walked across the room and settled in the chair and took a long pull. Lowering the glass, he placed it on the table at his side. “Now that we are alone, finally,” he stressed the word, “there are a few things I need to discuss with you.”
“All right.” I braced myself for what was to come.
“Since you have seen fit to return to me…” he paused, trying to find the right turn of phrase and cleared his throat. “ Although it may not have been of your own accord.” He lifted his brow audaciously. “I want you to know I still take our betrothal very seriously,” he said, the last with conviction.
“Oh,” I replied simply, not knowing what else to say. I had no idea where the conversation was going but I had a feeling it was not going to be pleasant. Of course, Milford warned me about Marguerite’s and his engagement, but for some reason it never occurred to me that the wedding might take place before I righted whatever wrong had been done. And as I thought about it for a minute and I found I was not overtly averse to the idea either, which was so sad.
“Good,” he said quickly. “Now I want you to know I have made allowances for your indiscretion. And have graciously decided to marry you despite your debauched state.”
I flexed my fingers on the arm of the chair, squeezing tightly as his jaw tightened. It looked like the words he had just said left a bad taste in his mouth. I found I could agree wholeheartedly. Maybe I had been a bit too hasty in my pathetic declaration a moment before. “Marry me in what state?” I lifted my brow in question.
He laughed, but it had a hard, bitter edge to it. “Your innocence is lost. You have sullied yourself with another. Could I be any clearer?” His ire filled every word he spoke.
I winced from his candor. “I see.” Of course, I did not see at all. What an ass. I am not sullied in the least, but he wouldn’t know that. Still his words were pretty damn rude. And so what if I was… oh right… I am in the past. Still, he needed to get over himself. “My goodness, how very gracious of you to take on a person such as myself in such a debauched state,” I poured on sarcastically.
Sebastian determined quickly this was the Marguerite he remembered. He had wondered if her true nature would eventually make an appearance. “I thought you might be,” he replied offhandedly as he removed a piece of lint from his sleeve. “Now I know this is a lot to take in at the moment, but in time, I am sure you will see how this is the best avenue for us both.”
“What avenue would that be?”
Sebastian sighed in irritation, for it was an obvious statement. “I speak of the one where we wed, of course. I will move to London while you stay here. That avenue,” he said tonelessly. “Of course, I will return periodically to do my duties as lord of the estate, and I will need an heir at some point. But other than that, I see no reason to stay on.” He waved his hand in the air.
My anger turned in on itself, replaced quickly with dread. He was going to leave. How could I fix what I needed if he left? Wasn’t he an essential part of the legend? Didn’t I need him to help me find the knight’s love? Searching my brain, I tried to come up with a reason to make him stay. I could always tell him the truth. No. no. no - I quickly discarded that notion. He would think I’m crazy.
Think, think, think. What would make him want to stay? My mind sifted through ideas. Why did any man stay with a woman? Love… Sex… Food… ah, shit… I didn’t know. I searched my brain for the numerous Cosmopolitan articles I often read about men. “How to keep your man coming back for more” I couldn’t remember that one. “How to make your man fall for you” I tried that one, but it didn’t pan out well. “Give him what he wants, and leave him begging for more”... Oh, to hell with it, I would just have to wing it. Obviously, I wasn’t going to have sex with him… even as I thought it, my eyes slid over to him of their own accord. He had stood up from his chair and was now standing in front of the fire. No, of course I wouldn’t sleep with him… but looking at him now, how utterly handsome he looked, his suit straining across broad muscular shoulders and his dark hair falling forward, perfectly… I could barely stop myself from sighing audibly. He did look like he would be pretty darn good at making a woman feel good. Maybe I could make him fall in love with me… as soon as that thought entered my mind, I snorted in derision. He turned toward me. I gave him a sheepish smile. Like that had worked so well in the past.
As the fire crackled and the silence between us grew my mind flew through every plausible scenario I could think of. I chewed my lip, and nearly drew blood when I looked back at him. He was staring at me like I was a… well, I didn’t know what, but it sure didn’t look good. Crap. This was not going to work. I widened my eyes at him.
He widened his eyes back at me.
Oh hell, I took another drink of tea. After a few strained minutes, I couldn’t take it anymore. “Well, isn’t this just wonderful.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. Before I lost my nerve, I took a breath and continued, “Any idea on what I might do to amuse myself while you’re in London, doing whatever it is that you do while you are there?”
“Yes, what would you do?” Casually he lifted his drink off the mantle, walked back over to the opposite chair, and sat down. He smiled then, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.
Oh, shit.
“For myself, I mostly indulge my most basic desires whilst I am in London.”
He leveled me with his steely gaze and I sunk further back into the cushions of the chair.
“I find this act comparable to enjoying a savory meal.” He waved his hand. “I try not to be too particular about the type of dish I indulge in. They all have a slightly different flavor, and who am I to deprive my palate of a delicacy when it is being offered so freely?” He shrugged his shoulders indifferently and raised his brow slightly to see if she caught his double entendre.
Wow. He may be nice to look at, but apparently he was a pig. Comparing the girls he “did” to a… meal. What a jerk. Oh, and I knew plenty of those type of guys too. I had dated most of them already. He could take a number and stand in line behind the rest of the pigs.
Now what was I supposed to do with him? He had turned back to studying the flames in the fire, deep in thought. At least that is what it looked like to me. He lifted his muscled arm and raked his hand through his hair, again. I felt offended, truly, I did, but as I watched him, staring at the fire, I couldn’t help wondering what flavor I might bring to his meal. Would he enjoy me as much as he did the others? And most importantly… could his hunger ever be sated with just one dish? My heart sank a bit from the thought… Probably not.
He stood. “I believe you should retire to your room, perhaps read a book, or take a nap befor
e it is time to prepare for the evening meal. I need to complete some unfinished business,” he added with a dismissive air, extending his hand.
I didn’t expect the conversation to end so quickly. I was still pondering whether I wanted to be a meal or simply a snack. And now I was being told to take a nap. I blatantly ignored his outstretched hand. The nerve. Filled with righteous indignation, I balled my hands into fists. He was speaking to me like a child. I hated when people talked to me like that. I was not some kid to push around. Read a book. Fine, that wasn’t so bad… but take a nap—come on. And the nerve… how dare he rub my face in his plates of food like that, as if I was of no consequence. Of course, this was so much worse than the take a nap. No wonder Marguerite left him.
He lifted his brow at me, as if he was daring me to disobey him, which pissed me off even more. I even resorted to biting the inside of my cheek to stop from saying something I may regret. Instead, I turned away and tried to think of a way to get back at him. Maybe make him want to stay? Once again my mind spun thru different scenarios and discarded just as many as I tried to think of a way to get a little payback and possibly make him stay in the process. What did the ever-resourceful Becky Sharp character do in Vanity Fair to get the man she wanted? My mind settled on the answer like a slot machine hitting the jackpot. Bells ringing and lights flashing, the big payout within reach… I would make him want me. That was it. It had to work.
Granted, Vanity Fair was only a movie and Becky Sharp was a dirt-poor girl trying to climb her way up out of poverty, but I was just as desperate, so while not being the best comparison, men on a whole were pretty much the same everywhere, right? And maybe I couldn’t make him love me, per say, but I could certainly make him want me… couldn’t I? And if he wanted to enjoy flavors, perhaps I should give him a taste of my own—not the entire meal of course, but just enough to make him want just a bit more.
RECOMPENSE
HAWTHORNE MANOR * THE CELLAR
ISABELLE dug her fingers into the food and scraped it off the filthy floor. She shoved it into her mouth and immediately gagged. Covering her mouth, she forced the disgusting food down. She needed her strength. Repulsed, her entire body shook. Tears streamed down her face. She had to get out of this prison or she would die, and she was not ready to die. She clutched the metal cup tightly in her hand. She was saving all her strength for Judith’s next visit.
EARLIER IN THE DAY
Judith clomped noisily down the stone stairs; Isabelle could hear her giggling all the way. Apparently, she was quite pleased with herself about something.
“Oh, Isabelle, I have some food for you,” Judith called out between giggles.
Isabelle heard something fall. She hoped it was Judith.
“Oh no! How terrible. Would you look at that?” she exclaimed loudly, and then laughed.
Isabelle leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. That must have been her food. Bitch. She heard Judith dragging her feet back and forth across the stone floor. Then a grinding noise, followed by a stomp. Isabelle heard Judith snickering as the door loudly creaked open.
“Isabelle, there seems to have been a terrible accident… your food has fallen onto the floor.”
“With your help,” Isabelle muttered.
“What? Did you say something to me?” Judith snapped angrily. “Well, there go your second helpings!” she yelled, throwing the food onto the ground in front of her. “Oh no, now look what you made me do! Your food has ruined my gown. Well, I am sure Devlin will buy me another, or perhaps I should take one of yours, since it was your fault. Oh, right. That will not work. You are simply too big.”
Isabelle said nothing. She could smell the food from across the room, which made her stomach growl loudly.
“Eww, Isabelle, you sound like a dirty little savage,” Judith said, smashing something with the toe of her shoe.
Isabelle assumed it was the last recognizable piece of food.
“Well, I am waiting,” Judith said, her annoyance palpable.
“For what?” Isabelle had to ask.
“Why, your apology,” Judith said rudely, as if stating the obvious.
“You must be insane,” Isabelle replied.
Judith’s face turned red with rage. Her nails cut into her skin as she balled her hands into fists. “I AM NOT INSANE!” she screamed out crazily. “You will pay for this!”
Isabelle laughed, then wheezed and coughed, then laughed some more. She simply could not help herself.
Judith swung around in a huff and slammed the door behind her.
Isabelle heard the distinct sound of the lock click into place and listened as Judith stomped away up the cellar stairs.
‡
Isabelle opened her eyes and looked down at the cup she now held. “No Judith, you will be the one to pay.” She closed her eyes once more.
THE GAMES THAT WE PLAY
RAVENHURST
THE fine china made a clattering sound against the wood as I set the cup on the table. I was very aware that Sebastian watched. I stood purposefully and walked off toward the sideboard. Lifting the heavy crystal stopper from the decanter, I gave him a pointed look. “May I?”
“Of course.” He inclined his head and sat back down. One ankle rested on his knee as he watched her every move.
She lifted her glass in the air.
He lifted his in return, watching her curiously. What was she doing? He took a casual sip of his drink as she gulped the contents back without taking a breath and slammed the glass back against the top of sideboard. Then she repeated the process. His eyes widened as she lifted her hand to her hair and pulled it from the ribbon and threaded her fingers through the mass. The strands tumbled down her back in riotous disarray.
His interest was certainly piqued, and even more so, when she gave him a flirtatious look and pressed her shoulders back.
Lifting his glass, he took another large pull of the fiery liquid and almost sputtered it out of his mouth when she began running her hands down the sides of her dress and then sliding them back up to her bodice.
She unbuttoned her gown, and made a face. What the hell was she doing? She looked afflicted.
Was she trying to flirt with him? No, that was ridiculous. Why would she do that? He was confused, curious, yet slightly aroused at the same time.
The edge of the sideboard cut into my skin as I gripped it harder. My nerve was disappearing faster than my drink. My mind screamed at me. “You can’t do this. You can’t do this.” Another little voice said, “Yes you can. Yes you can.” I wasn’t sure if I hated or loved that little voice.
Sebastian finished his drink and finally stood. He was getting annoyed with her silly, little antics. Walking over to the fire, he set his glass down on the mantel. Then leaned down to toss a few more logs into the dying flames. He waited to see if she would turn tail and run or actually go through with the little game she appeared to be trying to start.
He heard her walking towards him, her skirts rustling ever so slightly on the carpet. At least it sounded as though she were walking, instead of running for the hills. He smiled into the flames, standing up, but did not turn around. He felt her close the distance between them. The softness of her breasts brushed against his back as she slid past.
I was so close, I could feel the heat emanating from his body as his heady scent filled my nostrils. He did not move, not even a muscle. I was beginning to think, he didn’t even notice I had brushed past him. My breasts still tingled from the contact. Apparently, my tactics were working wonders on me, him…not so much. Taking a bracing breath, I did it again. This time my entire body shook. He didn’t move though, not a muscle. What the hell was he wearing—a suit of armor under that jacket.
That was it. I couldn’t go through with it. Beyond embarrassed, I made my way across the room as my little voice called me a coward. I told it to shut the hell up.
Sebastian felt every inch of her body rub against his own as she passed by, not once, but twice,
his body loving every moment. Of course, he also heard her running away. He waited a moment longer, not sure if he should let her go or not. He glanced at the stack of papers on his desk and decided they could wait.
He was not one to let an opportunity such as this pass him by, at least not today. He had seen these brazen games before, and normally they did nothing for him, but as he watched her heading out of the room, he decided that today was different.
A few long strides and he easily blocked her escape. “Leaving so soon?”
“Ah, well…”
“Yes,” he prodded and took a deliberate step forward.
I took a step back and kept going until my body was pressed up against one of the chairs. You can do this, the little voice in my mind assured me.
Sebastian walked up to her and reached down, placed a gentle finger under her chin, and pressed it upward. She was biting her lip, turning the pinkish color a vibrant red. Suddenly he wanted to taste her lips. He wanted to be the one that bit and pulled on her lower lip with his mouth and caressed it with his tongue. His eyes traveled past her mouth to her breasts. She had undone so many buttons he could see an ample amount of her bare rounded flesh gleaming enticingly in the firelight. He moved her hair over her shoulder, which gave him an even better view. His body reacted to the sight. He was quite surprised he was becoming so easily aroused. In his own defense, it had been a long time since he ate a savory meal.
A Knight Such as This: Enhanced with Interactive Content: (Time Travel Romance) Book 1 & 2 (Ravenhurst Series) Page 11
