Manor of Pleasure: An Erotic Historical Romance (8 page)

CHAPTER  FOURTEEN

She sat up. "You can't leave now, darling," she spoke softly. "We'll be found out." Rebecca was still unfamiliar with her body's response to their passions. She felt a slight fatigue yet her muscles were singing. She sensed a soft burn between her legs and savored it. She folded her knees up to her chin and hugged them.

Desmond looked to her. He looked to the clock on her mantel. He was uncertain. "I suppose you're right. My mother will have questions. How do we explain it?" He turned to her again.

Rebecca gave him a faint smile. "I should have told you. I asked Nora to intervene and give our excuses. You left early and I retired shortly afterward."

She moved to the edge of the bed and dangled her legs over the side. "I hope that's all right." She looked up at him for approval. She smoothed her hair and gathered it to one side.

He put down his shirt and walked over to her. "That was rather crafty." He sat beside her.

She turned to him and they kissed. Rebecca whispered, "Nora will signal me when everyone is retired." She brought her hand up to his neck. "Then I shall let you go." She caressed his throat softly, and then led her fingertips slowly down his shoulder.

She rose and in one graceful movement, she was straddling his hips, her legs folded to either side of him. Her lips sought his again. He ran his hands up and down the front of her thighs and along the sides of her calves. She buried her fingers in his hair, her mouth locked on his.

They lost themselves in their embrace, Rebecca gripping him between her thighs, Desmond's hands about her buttocks.

When Rebecca lifted her head, her breathing was shallow. "Desmond, what we're doing...is it wrong?" she asked him quietly.

Desmond moved his lips to her throat. He took his time. "Wrong in what sense?" he whispered. He ran his hands up and down her back and stared at her breasts. He began to caress them.

"In every sense," she replied breathlessly. Her blood was running hot. He was kissing her breasts softly and randomly. She felt herself creaming and wanted him inside of her.

"Do you love me?" he asked her gently. He was aroused and under her spell yet again.

"You are my whole life, Desmond," she murmured. She slid her hands down his shoulders, down the muscles of his arms.

"Then everything is as it should be," Desmond said softly.

"Think, Rebecca, how long we have already waited for each other." He looked up to her. His lips were parted. She placed her open mouth over his and their tongues met. This kiss was softer, less urgent than the others. It held the tenderness of years of devotion, separation, loss and longing. They lingered in each other's mouths.

Desmond's hands wandered down her back; his fingertips followed the length of her spine. He broke from their kiss and breathed her name.

Rebecca pleaded softly, "I want you, Desmond."

She raised herself up. He directed himself to the edges of her slit. As she lowered her thighs, he filled her up. She gasped at the hot swell of pleasure and desire flooding her belly, thighs and pussy. Her eyes met his. Rebecca's eyes were wide, deep, and almost desperate.

"Are you all right, Rebecca?" he whispered. She nodded. She began to sway her hips slowly. It was perfect. With each movement, she could feel his swollen shaft reaching, pushing and throbbing.

Desmond reclined, forcing his rod deeper still. He reached for a pillow and placed it behind his head. She put her hands on his chest and continued to rock her hips. She held his gaze. Desmond's eyes were icy and constant. She felt the intensity of his stare and it thrilled her.

She remembered their first dance on the night of the debutante ball. Desmond had wanted her then too. And here they were now, dancing again at last.

"Oh, my darling," she breathed. She leaned back on her arms and continued to swing her hips. Desmond was enthralled. Rebecca's figure was resplendent as she rocked on him. Her torso was an undulating slender and lusty curve. Her hips made a smooth arc to her waist and her breasts bobbed as she swayed.

He reached out for her, grabbing her waist. He slid his hands down onto her haunches and he pulled down on her as he raised hips.

"Oh!" Rebecca gasped.

Desmond continued to work Rebecca's hips, pushing and pulling. He could feel his cock reach into her and draw back. Each stroke sent a surge of heated lust into his loins, greater than the last. Rebecca's head was back, her long dark hair grazing his legs. Her breasts were high and peaked.

"Rebecca, come to me," he commanded gently.

She pulled herself up and bent over him. She went for his lips and they kissed. Desmond cupped her breasts in his hands, her nipples peeking through his fingers. She raised her hips and came down hard on his shaft.

"Oooh," she whispered. "Do you like that, Desmond?" Desmond nodded. His eyes were closed.

She raised herself again and came down hard, swiveling her hips. She moaned. She began to slide herself up and down his swollen rod, riding him.

Desmond's buttocks clenched tightly as he raised his hips to meet her descent.

"Fuck me, Rebecca," he whispered fiercely.

Rebecca was lost on the brink of her ecstasy and she pursued it with abandon. "Oh, Desmond..."

Desmond squeezed her nipples. Rebecca cried out softly, "My God..." She shook with the force of her bliss.

Watching her climax, Desmond's
fervor rushed to its zenith and he let himself go off. He grunted as his shaft released inside her. He gripped her hips hard and continued to rock her slowly until his orgasm was spent.

Rebecca lowered herself to his chest. She was covered in a light sweat. She moved to slide off of him but Desmond held her in place.

"Stay with me," he said, "I want to hold you a while longer." Their breathing was heavy. He kissed her forehead. Rebecca laid her head against his shoulder.

"I hope you don't think this is wrong, Rebecca," he said. "Do you?"

"I don't know. I suppose a part of me does," Rebecca replied. "I shudder to think what would happen if Father were to discover us."

"Would he have me sent to the gallows?" Desmond joked. "I think you underestimate him."

"My father clings to conventions and principles, Desmond. He would never forgive us."

"You are his daughter. We marry in four weeks. I say it hardly matters," countered Desmond. "What matters is we're together. I think your father would agree."

Rebecca lifted her head and smiled at him. She could not remember a moment so filled with pure contentment. Her mind turned to their very first meeting. She had loathed him then or at least she had loathed the concept of him. That they were here now together was a remarkable twist of fate.

"It's getting very late," he said. "I should dress."

She raised herself up and gave him a long and sultry kiss. "I hate it that you have to leave," Rebecca whispered. She lifted herself off from him and sat by his side. She watched him as he dressed. "I envy you your work," she told him. "At least you have a distraction."

"I would hardly call my work a distraction, Rebecca." Desmond was buttoning his shirt.

"Of course. I only meant that you can apply your mind elsewhere in ways that have meaning." Rebecca rose from her bed and went to her wardrobe. "For me, it will be more talk of guests, flowers, dresses and cakes." She selected a nightgown and pulled it over her head.

Desmond finished tucking his shirt into his pants. "What would you rather be doing? Not working, surely?"

"Why not?" Rebecca sat down on the edge of her bed. "I did well as your nurse when you fell in that silly koi pond, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did very well. In fact, I think I might hire you again." Desmond grinned at her. "You can rub me where it hurts. Kiss it and make it all better."

"Desmond, do be serious." She smiled briefly then sighed.

A light rap at the door cut into their exchange. Rebecca silenced Desmond, holding her finger to his lips. They heard the click and scrape of the key in the lock. She walked quickly to the door and opened it to the narrowest crack.

"Thank you, Nora," Rebecca whispered softly.

Desmond saw his coat and hat pass to Rebecca from an unseen hand.

Rebecca closed the door.

Desmond rose and put on his tailcoat. "That was very neat," he said.

"She is, I think, my only friend in this house," replied Rebecca.

She handed him his things. Fully dressed, Desmond pulled Rebecca close in a warm embrace.

"Very soon, we'll have no need for all this cloak-and-dagger," Desmond said to her. "And I will fall asleep with you in my arms." He kissed her. "I will see you tomorrow, Rebecca."

"Goodnight, Desmond." One last kiss and he was gone.

Her door closed silently behind him. The house was pitched in a quiet darkness. He made his way quickly down the stairs and through the hall to the front entrance. He marveled that they had managed yet another visit to her bed chamber without complications.

No doubt his mother was already retired. This visit would likely be the last though. They could not chance it again. He slipped through the front door and began the cold trek home to Clayton House.

Mrs. Hewitt watched him from the dining room as he headed down the front drive. "Goodnight, Mr. Baines," she said quietly to herself. She knew that Nora had been up to something.

CHAPTER FIFTHTEEN

The servants' hall was quiet in the early morning but Mrs. Hewitt knew the lull would not last long.

She settled herself at the dining table to plan out her day. Her mending in hand, she reflected on her discovery from the night before. It was valuable currency. She had not yet decided how to apply it.

Her Ladyship was the obvious choice. Mrs. Hewitt always relished an opportunity to curry favor with her mistress. Or Mrs. Hewitt could tell Nora, put her on her guard, and keep her in her place. She shuddered. That poor soul had enough troubles and she would not add to them.

"You're up early, Mrs. Hewitt," Cook trumpeted as she entered the hall. She placed her tea on the table and sat down beside her with heft.

"I've some extra mending to do. You'd think Her Ladyship was a
stone-cutter with the wear in her clothing." Mrs. Hewitt turned to her. "So you've not heard the news from upstairs?"

"What now?" Cook sighed. "Another dead body?" She sipped her tea.

"They've moved up the wedding," Mrs. Hewitt told her. "It's to be in four short weeks."

"Four weeks!" Cook snorted. She looked at her colleague in disbelief. "Is this one of your stories? Because if it is, it really isn't funny."

"It's the truth," Mrs. Hewitt said plainly as she sewed. "Mr. Baines announced it at dinner."

"Did he give a reason? Is Lady Rebecca in the family way? Is she with bastard?" The cook dropped her spoon with a clatter against the table.

"Steady on there. They didn't give a reason," Mrs. Hewitt replied, looking up from her task. "Since when does Lady Rebecca need a reason for anything she does?"

"Well, so much for a peaceful cup," Cook rose from her chair. "I'd better get a start on the wedding menus. Where is that Lucy?"

"Do take it easy on the poor girl," Mrs. Hewitt chided the cook. "You wouldn't want to lose her now with the work to be done."

"That's not bloody likely," Cook answered. "She's assistant cook now. She's not goin' anywhere." She shot Mrs. Hewitt a knowing glance and carried her dishes into the kitchen.

One by one the staff trickled in. Within the hour, the bells began ringing like Sunday morning. The real grind of her workday had begun. She readied the breakfast tray. Tea, scones, preserves—all the usuals.

Mrs. Hewitt made her way up the narrow staircase. It was a familiar route but it could still be a challenge, especially if she met up with another
traveler. She knocked at the door to Lady Garway's bedroom, balanced the tray in one arm and opened the door.

Lady Garway sat up in her bed. Her hair was down and her face still carried the traces of sleep.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hewitt," she said and smiled. "Thank you," she added as Mrs. Hewitt placed the tray over her lap. "Any news from downstairs?"

"I told Cook, ma'am, of the new wedding date. She was none too pleased.” Mrs. Hewitt opened the drapes of the tall bedroom windows. Sunlight filled the room.

"And neither am I. Mrs. Hewitt, I cannot imagine what led to this. I will speak with Rebecca later today. I will get to the bottom of it."

"It's a shame really, ma'am. A June wedding would be so lovely," Mrs. Hewitt turned to her mistress. "Speaking for the staff, we were all keen on it."

"That's still my wish, Mrs. Hewitt. I will pursue it until Lady Rebecca concedes." Lady Garway unfolded her newspaper.

"Just so you know, Cook is not wasting time. She's already started planning the menus. When should I return, ma'am?"

"Thirty minutes should be fine, Mrs. Hewitt. I will see you then." Lady Garway turned her attention to her paper. "Oh, and tell Cook that we'll meet later this morning to go over the wedding menus. I hope to change their plans but if they do not, we must be ready."

Mrs. Hewitt closed the door soundlessly as she left the room.

Eager to put matters to rest, Lady Garway caught up with her eldest daughter shortly after breakfast. She found her in her bedroom where Nora was helping Rebecca prepare for a morning ride.

"Good day, Rebecca." Lady Garway took a seat on the settee. She smoothed her skirt. "Nora, would you excuse us for a moment?"

"Thank you, Nora," Rebecca smiled warmly at her. "I will see you later." Rebecca waited until Nora closed the door, and then turned to her mother. "I know why you are here, Mother. There is no point in discussing it. Our minds are quite made up." Rebecca took a last look in the mirror.

Lady Garway launched her campaign. "I must know why, Rebecca. Why the change in plans? Why must you wed so quickly?" Her words were laced with anxiety.

Rebecca sat down in the chair nearest her mother. She fiddled with her gloves. "I don't expect you to understand, Mother."

"Please try me." Lady Garway's look to her daughter was direct and stern.

Rebecca looked down at the ring that Desmond gave her. Seconds passed before she finally spoke. "For so many years, every circumstance worked to keep us apart. Now, by some forgiving hand of fate, we are promised to each other." She looked up at her mother. "We have lost so much time. We simply wish to start our life together as soon as possible. Where is the harm in that?"

"There will be talk, Rebecca. There always is when a wedding is forced on to an early date." Her mother's lips were set in a straight line.

"No one is forcing anything. We want to do this," argued Rebecca. "Besides, I have wasted the greater part of my life fretting over appearances and the opinions of others. I cannot let my happiness be determined by what others think. Desmond taught me that. If only I had known that long ago." Rebecca cast her eyes downward for several moments. Then she returned her mother's gaze. "Then I would have accepted him the first time he asked me." She smiled faintly.

Her mother leaned forward. She looked keenly into Rebecca's eyes. "I understand that you love each other, Rebecca. Believe me. I know what love is." She stood up and walked over to her. She
knelled by her side. "But you see each other every day. And we are but a few months from June. That is not long. Even those few months will give us the time we need to plan." She grabbed Rebecca's hand. "Then it can be a celebration worthy of your love."

Rebecca smiled. "I appreciate your intentions, Mother. I agree that does sound lovely. But I wish you could know how I long to be with him."

Lady Garway sighed. "Please promise me that you will at least think about it, Rebecca. Talk to Desmond about it tonight."

Rebecca shook her head. "No, I cannot make that promise, Mother. Desmond is my life. And I will live with him as his wife in one month." She stood up. "Now cheer up. All is well and couldn't possibly be any better."

"I'm afraid that you haven't heard the last of me on this topic, Rebecca," warned her mother as she rose.

"Then you are taking on a fool's errand, Mother," Rebecca said as she exited the room with her. Mother and daughter walked down the staircase together. "I will be back in an hour. I will see you at lunch."

"Yes, of course, Rebecca." She watched Rebecca as she left the hall.

Lady Garway was sorely disappointed. She headed into the library to look for her husband. Not finding him, she rang the bell for Abbott. She was anxious and enervated. She walked to the window. Rebecca could be so short-sighted at the most inconvenient times.

Lady Garway had no care about when the wedding took place if it would not affect her daughter's already sullied reputation. A wedding in haste always conjured up the ghost of a scandal.

"You rang for me, ma'am?"

"Yes, Abbott. Where is Lord Garway?"

"He has gone to the village, ma'am. It was a short errand. He should be back shortly."

Lady Garway thought quickly. She needed allies. "Abbott, please send for Mrs. Hewitt. I will meet her in my room." She rose and breezed past him.

"Right away, ma'am."

Lady Garway climbed the stairs to her room with purpose. She would engage the Countess in her campaign. Her mother-in-law had more influence on Rebecca than she. The Countess and Rebecca shared the same acuity of perception and wit. Lady Garway felt sure that the elder could convince Rebecca to alter the course.

She met up with Mrs. Hewitt who was waiting for her in her bedroom. "Mrs. Hewitt, I will take tea with the Countess this morning."

"Of course, ma'am."

Lady Garway sat at her vanity. She studied her reflection in a cursory fashion. "I'm afraid my overture to Rebecca did not meet with much success, Mrs. Hewitt." She pivoted in her seat to face her. Her maid held out her coat. Her Ladyship rose and cloaked herself with her maid's assistance. "We may have an early wedding after all." Lady Garway's eyes betrayed her. She was crestfallen.

Mrs. Hewitt handed Lady Garway her gloves. "Don't despair, ma'am. It was only your first volley."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hewitt. You know that I always appreciate your support. Very much." Lady Garway gave her a sincere smile. Lady Garway adjusted her gloves.

Mrs. Hewitt hesitated, and then uttered quickly, "Ma'am..." Lady Garway turned to her. Mrs. Hewitt began again. "Last night, I was restless. It was just past midnight and I was up, thinking I had left things undone." Mrs. Hewitt looked at Her Ladyship intently. She had her attention. Mrs. Hewitt continued. "When I heard noises in the hall, I went to see what it could be. It was Mr. Baines." She looked down. "He was leaving just then. He didn't see me." She returned to Lady Garway's gaze.

Lady Garway was silent. She remembered asking Abbott about their whereabouts last night. His answer had been clear: Mr. Baines had left and Lady Rebecca had retired. She took off her gloves and handed them to Mrs. Hewitt. She unbuttoned her coat, prompting Mrs. Hewitt to remove it from her. She walked to the nearest chair and sat down. She looked at her maid.

"Are you sure?" Her voice was low.

"Yes, ma'am," Mrs. Hewitt answered, "Quite sure."

Lady Garway sat in silence. Mrs. Hewitt returned her coat to the wardrobe. Her mistress stood up.

"Please fetch my husband. I need to speak with him at once."

"Yes, ma'am." Mrs. Hewitt turned to leave. Her mistress spoke again, causing her to pause.

"And please, Mrs. Hewitt, tell no one else. No one."

"Of course, ma'am." She left Lady Garway alone with her thoughts.