Claiming His Estranged Viscountess (Rogues From War Book 2)

by Lisa Torquay

  Aurelia never fathomed there might be so much pleasure under the sun. Hungry for more, for what only he wanted to give her. When he primed to do it, she almost hallucinated with want. He drove in her tight channel, sure and deep, her head fell back, she embraced him arms and legs, sending the rest to the blazes.

  “So tight.” He breathed out in a nearly painful groan. “I am not going to survive!”

  Next, they were adrift in pleasure, moving in unison, chasing the end of the rainbow. When it happened, it was cataclysmic. Her body trembled, shuddered and she cried in sheer surprise and rapture.

  He drove on and on until he moved the deepest and grunted his pleasure. They stayed like this for long minutes, as if neither believed in what had just happened.

  Reality interposed only too soon. Self-disgust came in the forefront. How could she have lost her mind with the man who did what he did with their marriage? How had it been possible to lower her defences so deplorably? Did she learn nothing with what she had gone through in those years? A wave of bitterness and sadness stormed in her. A break down approached. Fast. Inexorable. She must be alone. Immediately!

  “Leave.” She managed to utter low but clear, throat tightening. He had rolled to the side by then.

  Conrad imagined his ears with a problem. What just happened had been… mind-blowing. Never had it been like this with any woman! He wanted to stay, cuddle her and repeat the session ad infinitum.

  “I said leave!” Came the rather croaked arid repetition.

  A glance at her, she had turned on her side, her back to him. Her body assumed an immovable quality, as if holding back unbearable tension. He sat on the bed, found his pyjamas trousers. Maybe she needed privacy. He stood up, walked to the connecting door, and opened it. As he walked through it, a sob echoed through to him. As it came from the deepest sorrow. The second one worse. He did not look back. The third one came muffled, probably by the pillow. Hundreds followed. He lost balance and his body encountered the wall by the door. His knees gave as he slid to the worn out carpet. She wept incontrollable now, the desperate whimpers punching his ears in the form of guilt and self-loath. What had he done?

  She barely contained herself until he left; the dam of pain and sorrow burst in one blow. She cried all the tears she had not shed in five years. The loneliness, the apprehensions, the unhappiness threshing through her in a river of sadness. Tears kept falling abundant until sleep overcame her. Wet, exhausted and insufficient.

  There would be no sleep alleviation for Conrad. When the sobs finally stanched, he remained there on the floor, head on his hands, despair overflowing.

  Chapter Four

  Next morning, after one of the worst nights of his life, Conrad entered the morning room for breakfast. Not that he expected Aurelia to be there, it proved to be empty, anyway. She surely had gone about her hard day’s work.

  Hughes came in the room. “Lord Strafford, I have a message from Lady Strafford.”

  Conrad’s heart squeezed. “Yes, Hughes.” He sat with his plate, not in the mood for food at all.

  “Mrs Hutton, the school teacher, encountered a problem and Lady Strafford will substitute her.”

  Conrad lifted his gaze to the butler. “School teacher?”

  A rather obvious expression of pride entered the butler’s stance. “Yes, my lord. Lady Strafford established a school for the tenant’s children on the west side of the land.”

  Surprise took Conrad over as he tried not to show it too much. “Indeed.”

  “Mrs Hutton is the teacher. Her aunt broke her arm and she will not be coming to work for a few days to take care of her old aunt.”

  “Isn’t there anyone else who can cover for this Mrs Hutton?”

  “Lady Strafford said it wouldn’t be possible at such short notice.”

  “Thank you, Hughes.” The butler bowed and left.

  Things had changed in his estate since he left. Who would have imagined? Aurelia worrying about the children and building a school for them. He himself would never have thought about something like this. He had never given much thought to his estate, anyway. This wife of his seemed committed to the land and the people. No way of fighting the wave of admiration that erupted in his chest.

  Classes had just finished, giving Aurelia a sensation of duty well accomplished. Getting out of bed to face a new day had seemed an impossible task to carry out. She woke up from a heavy dreamless sleep, her thoughts in shambles. It was as if an iron ball had fallen on her head.

  Eyes puffed, a heaviness in her head and unused muscles drawing attention to them greeted her in between sheets

  Not her body though. It remembered and rejoiced the lures her husband had bestowed upon it. The sensuality she had experienced the night before was completely alien to her. She had never imagined it possible that level of enjoyment. The remembrance of it made hot chills go through her. The will to taste more, experience more heated up her blood.

  Her heart and mind, though, went in very deferent directions. He was the man she had had a crush on for a long time before she got married. During the country balls, her gaze followed him, adoringly. She had refused marriage offers in the hopes that one day he would notice her. Soon had she realized it to be an illusion. She did not reconcile the life she had before with this. The sorrow remained there in her heart, the pain. She did not believe in love anymore, her feelings damaged, she feared she would not be able to mend them again.

  These contradictions minced her in multiple parts. She wished she escaped, broke free of these churning events, even if for a few hours. Impossible, she knew, since these feelings and thoughts accompanied her at every hour.

  “Lady Strafford.” A tiny voice sounded behind her. A turn registered Bess, a six-year-old pupil, at the school’s door. She walked to her.

  A smile stretched her lips. The little dark-haired, freckled girl looked up at her. “Yes, Bess.”

  “I cannot find me kitten!” On the verge of tears, the little girls looked up at her with huge brown eyes.

  “Where did you last see it?” She asked, crouching down to speak to the timid girl.

  “In me yard, but now it gone!”

  “Maybe you should wait a few hours to see if it comes back.”

  “Me mum says the same, But I miss it!” Tears now fell in earnest.

  “Oh, my poor dear.” The lady held the little scrap of a girl. She lost a baby brother to fever not long ago, and she still grieved. Aurelia let her weep on her shoulder.

  Conrad witnessed the exchange, having decided to visit the school his wife had built. He had tied his horse not far. The scene felt like a punch in his guts. The tenderness and consideration she showed the child spoke about a warm heart and an empathetic personality. Things he had glimpsed in her, but never taken into account. Now, the sight threw those on his face so blatantly he did not know how to deal with it.

  “Look, it’s Lord Strafford!” The little girl exclaimed and hurried to curtsy to him, kitten forgotten, face streamed with tears.

  Aurelia averted her face abruptly and stood up slowly, taking her time to turn to him. She lowered her lashes, and he missed what passed behind them. One of those practical dresses, high-necked and austere clad her curvy body. Her beauty all too evident in those; and the prim dresses begun to light his fire.

  “And what’s your name, little lady?” He mirrored his wife and crouched to the girl’s level.

  “Bess, milord!” She opened a large smile at him

  “Nice to meet you, Bess!” He bowed his head, taking his hat off, making Bess’ eyes shine. “Can I help you with anything?”

  “It’s just me kitten milord. Milady says it’s gonna show up sooner or later.”

  “Let’s hope it does, Bess.” He looked at her solemnly.

  “Yes, milord. I’d better go and help mum now.” She curtsied again and ran off.

  He straightened. Both remained in the class, no distractions. She still refused to look at him.

  The tender way he tre
ated Bess moved her. His tall, strong body bending down to Bess and talking to her so relaxed, did something to her guts. He looked gorgeous today in black breeches that hugged his muscular thighs and riding coat that marked his broad shoulders. The shoulders she had clung to last night, lest she fell in a precipice of pleasure. The thought made her blush furiously. Her senses begun to get the best of her, much to her contrariety.

  “I can take over the school while Mrs Hutton is away.” She heard him say in that deep voice of his.

  Her head angled to him looking somewhere beyond his shoulder. “What do you know about teaching?”

  “Well, I had an education myself.” At Eton, she knew. “I surely can teach small children their numbers.” He rose his brows, daring her to contradict him. “You have already much work with the estate, as you make it a point to be so.”

  She measured him from head to toe then. “Why are you offering? You never cared!” She accused.

  “I am here, am I not?” His legs drew apart, so sexy she almost forgot herself. “With you managing the manor, I have time to spare.”

  Relinquishing a task to him, any task meant an exercise in trust. He had always been erratic, absent and negligent. There was no reason whatsoever to risk the children’s confidence in the school. Part from that, she really had much to do. To substitute Mrs Hutton, added one duty too many in her already busy day.

  “Right.” She conceded reluctant. “But if I come to know anything is amiss, you’re out.”

  An amused glint come to his dark eyes. “Yes, milady.” He bowed his midnight haired head, nearly undoing her. “Maybe you’d like to show me around the school.” He offered his arm to her.

  She looked pointedly at the arm, not knowing what to do. She should not refuse his courteous gesture, though, her hand resting lightly on his arm, as it was awkward to touch him after… well after… that. The feel of his warm muscles through the fabric was enough to heighten her awareness of him.

  In the week that passed, they performed the motions of talking about the estate affairs, having dinner in tense small talk and pretending nothing had happened.

  On those occasions, she found herself acutely affected by his presence and trying her best to ignore the fact. What she could not ignore, though, was that he never drank alcohol at dinner or otherwise. He gave preference to tea or even water. This amazed her, but she remained too retreated to ask him about it. He also spent his evenings at home. He had not visited her chamber since that gloriously disastrous night though. She did not fathom as to why since he seemed so bent on this heir issue. Relief and longing battled in her to maddening point. She saw light under the connecting door and realised he stood just feet away.

  Sleep did not come easy to her. Her thoughts in constant whirlwind, her body craving what she should not crave. That night would not leave her mind and she reproached herself incessantly for it. She began to be afraid her needs would take control of her in no time.

  Conrad was nothing but courteous at every opportunity. He achieved a rather surprising success as a substitute teacher and the children expressed a besotted admiration for him. She was grateful she had not made a mistake by agreeing to his helping in the school; secretly, she applauded his versatility in that matter.

  Not only could Conrad not take that night out of his head, but also he could not take her out of his mind. He wanted more. He wanted all. The need to be patient tore him apart. He attempted to give her time to get used to him again. Difficult for him. The night in her chambers had been the most explosive he had ever had. He wanted a repeat. Soon. Even clad in those stifle dresses she tempted him. The nights had become hell. The light under the connecting door, her muffled movements tortured him. He walked on thin ice here. If he made a mistake, he might lose everything. Of course, he might claim their agreement and fast-forward that stale mate. But he wanted her pliant and willing, like that night. The problem being his temper did not fit patience. His candle burned low already.

  Aurelia walked to the orchard to have a look at the growth of the fruit and clean off the weed. As she entered it, she saw Conrad there, doing exactly what she came to do. Actually, it was as if he stood in every place she came to, a constant presence she did not mind getting rid of soon. He had been helping her. A lot. Which lightened her burdens, naturally. She did not want him to though. She did not care to count on him. For anything. He should not be trusted with any minimum task. Eventually he would betray her in one way or the other. Irritation coated her mood.

  “What are you doing here?” The vexed question escaped her mouth unrequested.

  He gyrated to her, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. He wore breeches and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing tanned muscular arms. His time in India had given him a touch of tanned skin so unnecessary to enhance his attractiveness. The watery sun shone his midnight hair in bluish streaks. It became more and more difficult to ignore him, she realised with an unfortunate note.

  “Oh, Aurelia.” He stared her in the eye. Her name on his deep voice did not need to sound so mellifluous! “Hughes said you usually take care of the orchard and the vegetable garden. I thought to come and do it while you have other duties in the way.”

  “I don’t understand why you’re doing this!” Her brows creased, her voice hard.

  “To help you, as I said.” He answered as if it was the most obvious thing on the universe.

  “I don’t want your help!” She shot. He would not keep it up with this; certain of it as the sun above. “I’ve been coping for two years!” Much to her satisfaction, truth be said.

  They faced each other, his stance becoming combative. “I am back and you cannot ignore it.” His voice even, locked up with temper.

  “I wish you did not come back!” She vented her frustration. “I wish I was…” She interrupted herself before saying too much.

  “What?” He strode to her. “A widow?”

  She looked him directly in the eye, lifting her chin defiant. “Yes!”

  Not that she wished anybody’s death. On an abstract way, she had imagined herself not having married him, or that might he remove himself from her life somehow. These last two years were paradise, she saw at present.

  Having your wife admit bluntly such a thing did not figure as the most pleasant declaration in your life, did it?

  “Well, you are very married, Lady Strafford!”

  Today she dressed a high-necked greyish dress he remembered from when they got married. The dress delineated her delectable bosom too precisely and gave a realistic view of her hips, since she wore no pannier for work. Her tightly tied hair shone reddish in the slow spring sun and her rosewood eyes spit fire. A vision of that she-wolf under him exploding with pleasure darted in his mind. He tried to shake it off, but the effects in his groin manifested themselves.

  “A fact you won’t let me forget!” She threw, her back straight, her fists flying to her narrow waist.

  Without noticing, he neared her. She held her ground although an apple tree stood right behind her.

  “True, because I need an heir, remember?” His dark eyes strolled her up and down, not bothering to disguise his desire. The making of said heir sounded more interesting by the minute.

  A gulp of breath passed her elegant lips as she backed away from him, bumping on the tree trunk. She glimpsed back to see what stood in her way, returning her gaze up to him; she held the trunk as if she wanted to fly on it.

  “Want to pass on the scoundrel line, do you now?” She lifted her chin higher.

  Sassy even cornered. This wife of his became really appetising! He drew a half-smile, gazing down at her.

  “And your defiance.” He murmured as his strong body glued to hers.

  Her eyes widened, and she tried to meld with the tree. Her pupils dilated, her lips separated, her body sagged surreptitiously. She might be vexed by his presence, but her body wanted him.

  “I cannot forget our night together.” His voice acquired a grave tone, denounc
ing his need of her. “The kiss we shared was the most arousing I have ever had.”

  Her body stopped melding with the tree trunk to arch ever so unperceptively towards his.

  “Don’t you have…” She stopped abruptly when his tongue caressed her soft lower lip.

  “Kiss me again like that.” He muttered just before ravishing her mouth with his.

  Aurelia whimpered shamefully the moment his sinful tongue touched hers. Her body sagged completely against the tree, moulding to the pressing one of his. He demanded total surrender while she fought it disastrously. Her nails scratched the tree trunk, but when his tongue swirled around hers, she lost the battle. In a desperate move, her arms flew to his neck, her fingers plunging in his smooth midnight hair. A spicy scent emanated from his tanned skin, luring her.

  He moaned goading her to open more for him. The kiss turned more and more daring. She pulled him closer to her, their bodies touching completely, his hardness enticing her. In no time, they were devouring each other with a hunger secreted for one week of frustrated desire.

  One of his arms laced her tightly and his other hand held her face in a subtle caress. He lifted his head from her, allowing her breathing. Their eyes met hazy, staring each other for a few moments before he renewed his plundering on her mouth. Their lips met again hotter, hungrier, fiercer. She gave all he demanded and more.

  Two meteors clashed. This must be the only explanation, Conrad thought. Only fire could come from it. She ignited him like no other woman ever had. He felt explicitly incapable of going slow with her. Impulses of taking her there, against a tree trunk, with her scent of verbena and woman mixing with the foliage taunted him. This passionate she-wolf was his very wife. How stupid of him to never have glimpsed it.