Elizabeth's Education (Forbidden Lust) (2 page)

Hurriedly she did so, not wanting to keep Miss Elizabeth waiting, fearful of the temper she possessed when kept waiting. Once changed, she ran down the narrow staircase.

‘What kept you so long?’ Elizabeth demanded irritably, as Grace gingerly opened the door.

‘Sorry, Miss Elizabeth, I was already dressed for bed,’ the maid said humbly.

‘All right, all right,’ she snapped testily. ‘Turn out the light by the door, and in the morning remind me to tell you about my new bath routine.’

‘Yes, miss.’

Grace wasn’t surprised her mistress had called her back down for such a small matter. She was used to Elizabeth’s spoiled and arrogant manner, and suffered it because she was desperate for the employment. She extinguished the light, and quietly left the darkened room.

As Elizabeth settled down again, eyes closed, pictures of the dashing Lord Michael played in her head, she imagined herself dressed in the finest of clothes, on Lord Michael’s arm, attending splendid society parties in London, everyone oohing and aahing over what a truly splendid couple they made. The love shining from his eyes as he looked at her, kissing her hand every time he went to get her yet another glass of champagne, more than willing to be at her beck and call…

Something’s wrong
, a voice in her dreamy head warned, but she let it go, drifting off, filled with visions of what she was sure would be her happy ending.

The following morning, after a full and peaceful night’s sleep, Elizabeth studied herself in the mirror. There was a soft glow to her complexion, her green eyes were sparkling with mischief and merriment, and she was full of expectation. For some reason she was sure that at some point during the weekend she would find herself in Lord Michael’s embrace for the first time, her breasts rising and falling with the insistent, passionate pounding of her heart.

She had selected a pretty pink dress. It emphasised her shapely figure, and highlighted the perfection of her lily-white skin. She had Grace brush her hair until it was smooth and shining lustrously, and style it in a loose, casual manner. The natural curl caused it to cascade around her shoulders. With a hint of rouge on her cheeks and lips, she was as attractive as she could possibly be.

She pulled on a pair of dainty pink shoes that peeked out cheekily from the hem of her dress, allowing just the smallest amount of white stocking to show, and with a last look in the mirror she felt ready to face the day, and the unfathomable Lord Michael.

As she moved to leave her bedroom Grace interrupted her thoughts. ‘You wanted to tell me something about your bath, miss?’ she prompted, clearly relieved that her young mistress was in such a good mood.

‘Oh, yes, see me in the sitting room after breakfast,’ Elizabeth said, and glided out of the room and down the stairs, hearing the sound of Lord Michael’s dulcet tones in the dining room, and what she overheard both surprised and delighted her.

‘Yes, yes. It is a jolly shame. Still, it cannot be helped.’

It was her father. She paused, waiting to hear more. The naughty side of her loved eavesdropping. She had overheard all sorts of juicy things by being quiet and careful.

‘I’m very grateful to you sir, what with her mother away,’ her father was continuing. ‘She’s quite a handful, that young lady, quite a handful indeed. From my experience it’s best not to leave her alone here. Especially with all the chaps that are want to drop by. I am very grateful to you for staying, I must say. Very grateful indeed.’

She could just imagine her father, twirling the ends of his great moustache. She loved him dearly, but the poor man didn’t have a clue. He was so easy to twist around her manipulative finger. She could usually get what she wanted from him just by lowering her head and allowing a single tear to trickle down her cheek. She giggled a little, amused by her own cleverness.

‘Is that you, my dear?’

Darn! He had heard her.

‘Yes, father,’ she called in her sweetest, most musical voice. She continued down the stairs and entered the dining room.

‘Good morning everyone,’ she said gaily, flashing Lord Michael her cheeriest smile. He nodded to her, a slight curl raising the corners of his mouth, although it was barely a smile at all, and he went immediately back to eating his breakfast.

She pretended not to notice his aloof manner, and addressed her father again. ‘Did I hear you say something, father, about chaps dropping by?’ she said, waving her hand, hoping the words would not be lost on Lord Michael. ‘I honestly don’t know what to do with all these admirers I seem to have acquired.’

‘Yes, yes,’ he blustered. ‘Well I’m afraid something’s come up in London, my dear, and James and I must attend to it at once. So as your mother’s visiting your aunt I have asked Lord Michael to stay here, to keep an eye on things for me. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone here, but we’ll be back late tomorrow afternoon and in the meantime you’ll be in safe hands.’

She suppressed a squeal of joy, but managed to say, very coolly indeed, she thought, ‘How kind of you to put yourself out so, Lord Michael. I shall do my best to make sure you are properly and suitably entertained. Though I shan’t be trudging across muddy fields with you, like silly old James would.’

Her brother glowered at her. ‘Really, Elizabeth,’ he responded irritably. ‘We’re sportsmen. You couldn’t possibly understand.’

‘No, I couldn’t, nor would I want to, so there,’ she countered. ‘I don’t see any fun in getting all dirty. I will find much finer and more dignified ways to entertain our esteemed guest.’

She looked over at Lord Michael, and to her shock he looked right back at her, an eyebrow arched in what she thought was quite a suggestive manner – though suggestive of what, she had absolutely no idea.

‘We shall see who entertains who, and how, won’t we Elizabeth?’ he stated confidently, and she felt herself blushing, immediately looking away.

‘I say,’ James chuckled, ‘it looks like you might have met your match there, Elizabeth.’

‘Oh, James,’ she scoffed, gathering her wits again. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m sure Lord Michael means that he intends to entertain me, in return for my entertaining him. Isn’t that so, Lord Michael?’

‘Yes, Elizabeth,’ he said quietly but firmly, ‘that is exactly what I mean.’

‘We really must be going if we plan to be in London before lunch,’ her father said, ignoring the trivial spat between his offspring; he had long since learned to pay no heed to such things. ‘Thank you again, my dear friend,’ he said to the assured gentleman. ‘I am in your debt, sir.’

‘My pleasure, I’m sure,’ Lord Michael said smoothly. ‘I will see you tomorrow. Do not worry about a thing. Your dutiful daughter will be well taken care of.’

Something in the tone of his voice made Elizabeth feel uneasy as her father and brother rose from the table, leaving the two of them alone. There absence for a day was much, much more than she could ever have hoped for, but as they proceeded to finish breakfast the atmosphere was strained. Lord Michael’s monosyllabic responses to Elizabeth’s attempts at conversation were frustrating her, to say the least, and she was relieved when the meal came to an end.

She excused herself and disappeared into the sitting room. She needed to compose herself. He was certainly most different to any man she had ever encountered. Normally such indifferent behaviour would see her put the gentleman directly in his place, but Lord Michael had the unmistakable aura of someone not to be trifled with.

Then she heard her name being called; her father and brother were about to leave, so she hurried out to the front porch and found herself standing next to Lord Michael, waving goodbye to dear old pater and her bothersome brother. Whilst she couldn’t have been happier with the prospect of spending the next thirty-six hours with Lord Michael, she couldn’t ignore the sense of uncertain discomfort permeating her being.

She and her handsome guest walked slowly back into the house, and she was trying to think of something witty and smart to say when Grace appeared.

‘You want to see me in the sitting room now, miss?’ she asked reverently.

‘Yes, I’ll be along shortly,’ Elizabeth replied, rather abruptly. ‘Go and wait for me there.’

‘Yes, miss,’ Grace replied, then curtsied.

‘What a charming girl,’ Lord Michael said admiringly as she walked away. ‘So polite and well mannered. As a young woman should be, don’t you think?’ He stared into Elizabeth’s eyes, once again causing a deep red blush to rise in her cheeks.

‘It’s only because I’ve trained her so well,’ Elizabeth stated haughtily, attempting to ignore the fact that she was continuing to redden under his unwavering gaze.

‘All young ladies need training,’ he said, still staring at her intently.

Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. She could feel his eyes boring through her. ‘Well, I’m about to do some instruction,’ she managed. ‘So if you will excuse me?’

‘Actually, I think I’ll join you,’ he said. ‘You don’t have any objection, I take it?’

‘Um, no, if you wish. It will only take a minute or two.’

She walked ahead of him into the sitting room, the slim cut of her dress accentuating the sway of her shapely hips and bottom. She could feel his eyes upon her as she moved, and suddenly wished she was walking beside him, rather than in front. She quickened her pace, hurrying to get out of the uncomfortable situation, and as soon as she entered the sitting room she stood with her back to the fireplace.

Grace was standing demurely in the centre of the room, hands clasped in front of her, staring at the floor. She was obviously very uncomfortable.

‘Now, Grace,’ Elizabeth began, ‘last night it occurred to me that I wanted a bath.’

‘Yes, miss,’ Grace said, clearly unsure of what she had done wrong this time.

‘Don’t speak until I say you may, you rude girl,’ Elizabeth snapped, ‘just listen to me.’

‘Sorry, miss, I try to do things right,’ Grace blurted. ‘Honest I do.’

‘Be quiet and let me finish!’ she snapped again. ‘From now on, every night, you must draw my bath whether or not I tell you to. Can you understand that simple instruction?’

‘Yes, miss,’ the maid answered, visibly cowering, her voice tremulous.

‘Well thank goodness for that. And make sure there’s plenty of scented oil. I checked this morning and you’ve allowed my supply to dwindle. Now then, tell me what you’re to do in future, beginning with this very evening.’

‘I’m to draw your bath every night, whether or not you tell me to,’ Grace said, a small sob escaping her lips, ‘and make sure there’s plenty of oil of jasmine, or milk of roses, or scented oil of some kind, for you, miss.’

‘Excuse me.’ Lord Michael’s voice startled them both, interrupting Elizabeth’s flow. ‘Surely that’s a bit extravagant? All that water possibly going to waste, and the cost of heating it? I’m sure your father would not approve of such a wasteful habit. It’s one thing if you decide you want a bath, but to have Grace draw you one just in case, well now, Elizabeth, I do not think that’s acceptable. No, not acceptable at all.’

Elizabeth’s face began to turn red again, but this time with simmering anger. ‘Lord Michael,’ she said resolutely, ‘forgive me, but this does not concern you.’

‘Actually,’ he calmly countered, moving to the centre of the room, giving the impression of supporting Grace, ‘your father asked me to keep an eye on things here, and my eyes do not approve of what they are seeing.’

Grace’s mouth fell open; never had she seen Miss Elizabeth spoken to in such a manner.

‘Well, in that case your eyes can just look at something else, because this is how I want it, and this is how it’s going to be!’ Elizabeth spat, in complete disbelief that the man of her dreams would address her so.

‘Grace,’ said Lord Michael, ignoring Elizabeth’s outraged response, ‘I suspect you work very hard here, do you not?’

Grace realised her mouth was still open, and closed it, casting her eyes down. ‘I do my best, sir, yes,’ she replied.

‘I am sure you do,’ he said compassionately. ‘Now, I have a question for you, and when I ask you this question you must promise to answer truthfully.’

‘Yes, sir, I always tell the truth,’ she replied, daring to look up at him, a scrap of confidence returning.