"Yes, perhaps you're right." Hugh sighed. "Sisters, I will have to get used to having one again after all this time. Even so, I shall check in on her tonight to ensure she is well."
Giles didn't reply, not wanting to give Hugh any reason to suspect him of anything. Not yet, at least. He needed to win over Sarah before he won over his friend. "Tell me, who are we playing against?"
"Ah, Whitstone, and Duncannon. Both of whom believe we require a good trouncing."
Giles scoffed. "We shall see about that." He never liked to lose, not in a game of billiards or life. By the end of the Christmas house party, he too would win Sarah's heart.
Just as he had it ten years before.
Chapter 9
The following evening Sarah stood before the roaring hearth in the ballroom where some spontaneous dancing had been organized. The ladies took turns in playing the pianoforte for those who wished to dance while others had a turn about the room.
The room smelled of pine, one of the three Christmas trees at St. Albans Abbey stood in the corner of the room without decoration, the tradition of decorating the tree to happen Christmas eve.
A portion of the yule log burned in the grate. Sarah took in the many merry guests, conceding that it wasn't so bad to have all the guests stay at the estate. Over the few days that they had been here, they had been both kind and welcoming, not bringing up her time away or the reasons that occurred.
Hugh and Molly seemed to be enjoying themselves as well, and she couldn't help but wonder if they would return to Rome as much as they had stated they would. Certainly, they seemed very well placed here in Kent, with their new baby and marriage.
Sarah sipped her milk punch, her attention snapping to the door when Giles entered, Lady Rackliffe beside him, looking as pleased as she always did when around his lordship.
A prickle of annoyance threaded through her at the sight of them together. They made a handsome pair, both light-haired, attractive, and titled, should a marriage happen between them, they would be a highly placed couple in society.
So would you, should you marry Lord Gordan.
Sarah did not move, merely watched as Lady Rackliffe leaned up to whisper something in Giles's ear. He nodded before striding away.
Her hold on her crystal flute tightened before she took a calming breath, reminding herself that Giles had asked her to trust him, let him court her, not Lady Rackliffe. He would not play her the fool.
Her brother strode over to her, and she schooled her features, not wanting him to know anything about her muddled thoughts on Giles. "Sarah, my dear, I'm glad to catch you on your own. I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. You seemed a little distressed when I came upon you with Lord Gordan."
Sarah shook her head, wrapping her arm around Hugh's. "Nothing at all is wrong. I was merely tired after attending my horse in the stables. How did your billiards game go? I hope you won, as you wished to."
He smiled down at her, his eyes bright with happiness. "Of course. Whitstone was all talk when it came to his ability." Hugh chuckled. "Are you enjoying yourself? We have not left you alone too often, I hope. I do want our first Christmas together again to be a pleasant one."
"Not at all. Surprisingly, despite my earlier concerns, I have enjoyed myself immensely. Everyone has been kind and not bold enough to bring up Henry and what he did. Have you found the same?"
He nodded, his face clouding a moment at the reminder of Henry and what he had done to Miss Cox and Hugh, especially. "I have. Molly seems to be the most accomplished hostess too. How lucky we are," he said, smiling down at her, the love he had for his wife shining in his eyes.
"Molly is simply the best choice you have ever made. If I have not said before, Hugh, I am so very happy for you both."
"Thank you, Sarah. Your words mean a lot to me." Hugh gestured to the dancers. "I hope you're going to partake in a jig or waltz this evening. The most handsome sister in attendance should not be a wallflower."
"Perhaps I will." She grinned, hoping that Giles would move over to where she stood and ask her.
Hugh studied her a moment, a small frown between his brows. "You have been spending some time with Lord Gordan these past few days. Each time I look up, you're together partaking in conversation. Is there something that I should be aware of between you two?"
Heat rushed to her face, and she prayed he did not notice. "What? No, nothing is happening between his lordship and myself. We're friends, just as we once were."
"If I recall correctly, you had a falling out just after I left. Lord Gordan wrote to me and told me of his disappointment."
"What? He wrote to you and told you? What did he say?"
Hugh stared at her as if she had lost her mind, which, if she found out that Giles had told Hugh of her kissing him, she may very well do.
"That you disagreed over a trivial matter, and you refused to speak to him. That is all he said."
Sarah sighed, swallowing her fear and mortification that what she had done to Giles others may know about. And not just anyone, but her brother. "That is all in the past now. I have moved on from that difference of opinion."
Hugh's lips lifted into a half smile. "I am glad for it, for I do believe Lord Gordan likes you, Sarah. More than you possibly know."
Oh no, she knew how much Giles liked her, and she had enjoyed every second of him showing her so yesterday in the stables. Even now, her body yearned for his touch, his kiss, his breathy gasps against her ear when he'd undulated against her flesh.
"We're friends. Of course, he admires me." She sipped her punch to stop from having to say any more.
"I'm not blind, sister. I have seen the way he watches you, waits for you when you're not present. He thinks that I do not discern, but I do."
Sarah made the mistake of being caught in her brother's penetrating stare. She bit her lip, thinking it best not to say anything at all lest she blurt out her fear that she was falling in love with the marquess. If it were not love, it most certainly was already lust.
"He does not look at me so. You're too overcome with Christmas festivity to see clearly," she teased.
He chuckled, the sound mocking. "I'm not blind, no matter what you may think. I ask for one thing if there is anything between you. Do not cause a scandal by doing anything untoward. There are many eyes on our family, thanks to Henry. We must not allow the ton to have any further fodder to use against us."
Sarah nodded, shamed by her brother's words. Had anyone come across her and Giles yesterday in the stables, she would have been ruined. Her family once again the main talking point of gossip in town. She would have been dragged down the aisle to become Lord Gordan's wife before she could explain what she was about.
Not that being his wife was ever so bad. There had been a time that she'd wanted that above anything else, but he had chosen another. That that other person happened to be at this house party was merely an inconvenience. Even so, it did not change the fact that he was now courting her, not anyone else.
If she behaved, waited to see where her newfound friendship with Giles led, maybe they would be married before the next Season. "I will not do anything that could cause you or Molly harm. I promise," she said to her brother, just as a shadow fell before them both.
Sarah glanced up, her stomach fluttering, and she knew who was before them before observing him for herself.
"Lord Gordan," she said, dipping into a curtsy. "I hope you've come to our little impromptu dance ready to escort many a young woman onto the boards."
His eyes bored into her, the heat that she could see swirling in his blue orbs sent a frisson of desire to pool at her core. The man before her was determined to throw her life into a delightful turmoil.
"I am, Lady Sarah." He held out his hand. "Will you do me the honor?"
Sarah looked up at her brother, and the knowing look he bestowed upon her told her all she needed to know. Her brother had seen and approved. All that was left was for her to decide if she also did.
S
arah placed her hand atop of Giles's arm. He covered her hand immediately with his own, leading her onto the dance floor. "What is the next dance, do you know?"
The strains of a waltz started, and he grinned, a devilishly wicked light in his eyes. "I never leave anything to chance, my lady. Now, come here," he said, pulling her into his arms.
Sarah went willingly. At this time, should he ask her of anything, she was sure she would do it.
Even say yes to this handsome marquess.
Chapter 10
Giles made sure he danced with every woman present at the impromptu ball that the Duke of St. Albans had organized. The Christmas ball was still a week away, but with the need to keep those in attendance happy and occupied, a small dance did not hurt any of the plans.
The main Christmas ball would have the families of the nobility who lived close by in attendance, a much grander and more formal affair.
He had danced with Sarah twice already and knew he should not ask again. His interest would be noted and would only bring more eyes watching them.
He didn't need that annoyance. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with Sarah without everyone watching their every move. He needed to make her trust that he was in earnest. Explain to her, when the time was right, why he'd not thrown Lady Rackliffe aside when Sarah had kissed him.
That his betrothed had thrown him over had been a welcome reprieve from a choice he had not wanted to make in the first place.
Nothing stood in his way of having Sarah as his wife now. As much as he loved and missed his parents, they were no longer living, and he could choose whomever he wished.
The night was coming to an end, and he bid those about him goodnight, having already done so with Sarah before she took a turn about the floor with her brother.
Giles left the ballroom, heading for the servant's stairs over that of the main staircase. It came out just beside his suite of rooms, and there was less of a chance of him being accosted by Lady Rackliffe, who appeared determined to take up as much of his time as she could.
He pushed through the servant's stairwell door into the passage near his room, the paneled door unsuspecting to anyone walking up the corridor. A feminine gasp sounded, and he closed the door quickly to see Sarah looking at him as if he'd accosted her.
"Apologies, Sarah. I did not think any of the family were headed to bed as yet."
She clasped her chest, her eyes wide with fright. "You startled me, that is all. I wasn't expecting anyone to barrel through. What are you doing using the servant's stairs again?"
He glanced down the hall to ensure they were alone. "Avoiding Lady Rackliffe. She's quite determined to catch me under a bough of mistletoe."
Sarah's delightful mouth twisted into a mulish line. Was she jealous? Did she not like the thought of someone else vying for his attention? He could well understand the sentiment. He, too, did not want to think of Sarah being with anyone else but him. It had only been by chance that he'd stood by all the years to take over the title that she had not married.
Had he been a man, stood up to his father and demanded he was marrying whomever he liked, they could have possibly been married for several years by now.
But he had not. He'd been a coward. Had allowed his father's prejudice and threats to keep him away from her. Thank bloody Christ that he did not have that issue any longer.
He was a bastard to think that way, to be now able to court Sarah meant that his father was gone. Even so, his sire had been wrong to demand such from him. He would not do it to his son when the time came.
"Lady Rackliffe does seem determined. Now that she is a widow, you do not wish to try your advantage at winning her heart a second time?"
"Hell no," he said, his tone more severe than he'd meant to project.
Sarah started at his words, staring at him. "She will be disappointed," she said after a time.
Giles stepped closer to her, placing but a hairsbreadth between them. "Let her be. She is not the woman I want, as you well know."
Sarah's eyes twinkled with a knowing light, and his body yearned to pull her against him. Kiss her soundly until they were both sated.
"Did you enjoy dancing this evening? You were quite the popular gentleman."
"I aim to please." Giles reached out, the urge to touch her sweet face overwhelming. Her skin was soft and warm, and he ran his thumb along her jaw, swiping it over her bottom lip. Her lips opened on a sigh, and his body hardened. "I want to please you."
Sarah shivered at his words. She wanted him to please her, too, in all ways. Thoughts of being with him as they were yesterday afternoon flittered through her mind, made her body yearn and ache.
His stormy, blue eyes darkened, enticing and wicked as ever. She had been so very angry at him for so long, how was it that a mere kiss, a sweet word, and roguish touch could make her let go of what had happened between them?
Because you were old friends, you loved him once.
All true of course, she had loved him, had been his friend, until he tried to marry a woman even Sarah could have told him would not make him happy. Sarah had long believed it was only she who could make him so, and now, after all these years apart, it would seem she was correct in that estimation.
What was she to do about it?
"Please me as you did yesterday in the stable? I do believe that was teasing, not pleasing, my lord." Her naughty words were unlike anything she'd ever spoken before. But she could not stop herself. Her body was not her own. Not anymore. She wanted the man before her to finish what he had started in the hay.
A growl emitted from him, and her breath hitched. "You're playing with fire, Sarah. Do not tempt me. I'm already at my limit when it comes to you."
She raised her brow, wanting to stir him more. See where their interlude could end. "Really? So if I were to step closer to you…" Sarah did as she suggested, her body close against his, her breasts grazing his chest. Her nipples pebbled, and moisture pooled at her core when his hardness settled into the dip of her stomach.
Sarah bit her lip, reaching up to drape her arms about his shoulders. "Your tolerance would snap?"
"Fuck, yes, it would." He picked her up, walked two steps, and pushed her up against the paneled wall. His mouth settled over hers, deep and commanding, taking her lips with a punishing edge.
Sarah clasped his shoulders, let go of her inhibitions, and drank from his desire. Let it spark hers to a flame. His hands slid down her back, clutching at her dress as if to rip it from her person.
Desire and need thrummed through his actions, his strong hands shaking against her body told her without words what she did to him. He hoisted one of her legs against his hip at the same time he ground against her, reminiscent of yesterday.
Oh yes...
They moaned, and with a nip to her lip, Giles pulled back, staring at her as if he were unsure, uncertain of what they were doing. Sarah knew exactly what they were about, and she wasn't going to let him end this interlude before he finished what they had started.
"I shouldn't be doing this, Sarah. Not until we're married."
The word marriage acted like a balm against any fears she may have held. Sarah kissed him quickly, a light brushing of lips. "Make love to me, Giles. I do not want to go to bed alone."
He leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes pools of uncertainty and need.
"We cannot," he gasped as she rubbed against him, using him to soothe the ache between her legs.
Sarah pushed him away with one hand before sauntering toward his bedroom door. "Yes, we can, and you will. I've never heard the Marquess of Graham being a man who did not satisfy. Do not start now. Not with me."
Chapter 11
Giles followed Sarah into his room, shutting and locking the door to ensure they were not disturbed. She was a goddess, her gold silk gown with gauze shimmering over the fabric gave her an air of decadence and privilege, of beauty that was both outside and in.
She sat on the edge of his bed, her wicked, come-hith
er look she threw him threatening to buckle his knees.
Giles strode over to her, wrenching his cravat and jacket off, dropping them to the floor without a second thought. Within a few moments, he stood before her with nothing but his breeches, his bare feet refusing to move from the soft Aubusson rug.
"I'll need help with my gown," she said, leaning over and giving him her back.
He drank in the sight of her straight spine, her swanlike neck, and sun-kissed hair pulled up into a decorative motif.
Thoughts of pushing her onto her hands, racking up her gown, and taking her from behind bombarded his mind. Giles pushed down his baser, harsher needs. Sarah was a maid, her first time with him could not be so, but one day. Soon, he promised himself. They would enjoy other ways of being together.
Giles made short work of the small, decorative buttons down her back. He slipped the gown down her arms, taking the opportunity to kiss her slight shoulders, the tops of her arms. She smelled divine, of flowers and a unique scent that was wholly Sarah.
Goose bumps rose on her skin, and he quickly pulled at the ties of her corset. Undressing Sarah was akin to unwrapping a gift. Having Sarah, such as she now was, willing in his arms and his, was the best Yuletide present he could have possessed. Her gown pooled at her waist, and Giles ripped her shift over her head, her corset next, discarding it somewhere about the foot of the bed.
She stood, and her dress fell to the floor. Giles took her into his arms, tumbling them down onto the soft linen. They bounced, and she chuckled, the throaty tenor of her voice hardened his cock.
He pulled back to admire the view of her before him. Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts full and heavy, all but begged for his touch. His mouth watered and, unable to deny himself a moment longer, he gave in to the desire thrumming through his blood like a raging torrent.
Giles licked her beaded nipple before taking her into his mouth. She moaned, her fingers spiking into his hair, and he kissed and paid homage to her breast while his other hand kneaded and teased the other.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2) Page 30
