Matthew's Mask [Lords of Hawksfell Manor 3] (Siren Publishing Menage Amour) (2 page)

No one had a hold on his heart, nor would they. That was a weakness he would never allow. His uncle had been right on that count. And now he was on his way to Helmsley and, ultimately, to Hawksfell Manor.

He couldn’t recall the name of the girl he’d been with at the Inn at Helmsley that spring night. It was a flower, maybe. Rose or Daisy. But the memory of it caused his chest to tighten. She’d been sweet. Untried. A virgin. That hadn’t mattered in the end, though. He’d fucked her hard once he’d breached her maidenhead. He’d given her what he knew without a doubt was her first orgasm and left her ample payment as well. She must live in or around Helmsley. Maybe he’d look her up for another romp.

There was no denying he’d have to find an outlet for his passions and soon. It had been days since he’d gotten laid, and from experience he knew that his cock wouldn’t be quiet for much longer. Using his hand on himself was never an option. Stabbing pain and an excruciating erection lasting for hours followed swiftly the few times he’d tried to come that way alone.

Alone. He wasn’t that. Not any longer. He had a blasted brother now. The bloody Earl of Hawksfell. What was he like? Was he like his father, who had nothing to do with Matthew? Or was he like his uncle, who should have?

He gazed out the window, not seeing anything past the glass. It was of no consequence. Nothing held him at Lindhurst. That was certain. He’d have his things readied and leave for Hawksfell Manor tomorrow morning.

He would meet the earl and claim what was his.

* * * *

Posy Davidson sat on her bed in the attic room at Hawksfell Manor she used to share with her best friend Mary. She toyed with her braid draped over her breast then smoothed the sheets and coverlet over her legs. The hour was late, yet she couldn’t find sleep. It had been a month since her best friend had married a Hawk and left the manor. Imagine, Mary finding love and passion both! No one deserved it more than Mary, though. She was a good girl, and her two men loved her. If Posy craved a bit of love for herself, she wasn’t going to admit it. Even in her lonely bedroom with no one to see her cry.

She thought of William, that very proper footman who could raise her passions with one look. There was more to him than stoic stiffness, and well she knew it. He could run hot and wild, and he’d been chasing after her from the day she started here at the manor five months ago. It didn’t seem to matter to him that she’d had to please the earl as part of her job. It was a requirement of service, due to his being a Hawk and all. She’d done her duty once with little pleasure herself. Oh, the other servants believed she’d been with the earl many times, that he’d taken her in every room of the manor before he suddenly settled down and married.

Lady Hawksfell apparently believed that as well, for she was cold to her, and Posy made every effort to vacate a room if the countess was in it. She regretted now that she’d perpetuated that impression, acting quite flirtatious with the grooms and the chauffeur. In fact, she supposed she did so to try to get a reaction out of William.

Even he believed she’d given everything to the earl that she’d given William. It was simply not true. She’d eased the earl with her hand. That was all. He’d been in pain, and she’d eased him.

She supposed William’s misconception was due to the fact that she wasn’t a virgin when he’d taken her that first time. Well, that wasn’t entirely her fault. She could lay part of the blame for that at the feet of the man who first took her last spring.

He’d been as handsome as the earl and quite like him in looks. In fact, when she’d first come to work here, for one heart-stopping moment she’d believed the earl was that nobleman she’d met at the Inn at Helmsley.

Matthew had been sweet and kind, but the extra coin he’d given her afterward had stung. She’d been trying to get into service, and away from her grandparents’ farm, for the last year. She’d had nothing on the farm. She’d
been
nothing there, too. Finally she’d succeeded with a position at the manor. She’d only stopped at the inn for the one night, on her way to take her new position. He’d been passing through on his way to London, and she’d been dazzled by his charm. And his appearance. She could admit that now.

He was as handsome as William. Dark-haired with darker eyes, strong, fit figure, and a beautiful mouth. Matthew had been wild for her, and she’d given in. She’d already had her interview with Mr. Grantley, the earl’s man-of-affairs, and knew what was expected of her at the manor. Why hold on to her virginity, only to surrender it to the earl as a matter of course?

Now she was good and stuck. She wanted more than William’s passions. She wanted more of the talking and cuddling that sometimes followed their lovemaking but not often enough. He was holding back, and it was obviously due to the fact that he didn’t truly value her beyond a quick tumble. She sniffed and wiped away a tear.

Maybe it was time to look for a new position. She could reinvent herself and act like a maid a lady would want in her house instead of a girl that a lady feared would jump into bed with her husband the moment her back was turned. Mr. Grantley would see that she got a good recommendation. He was kind, and one of the men now securely attached to Mary. That fact still amazed her. Who knew passion hid beneath his starchy exterior?

She’d miss William if she left, though. His eyes, so deep a brown she could get lost in them. His hair, so rich a brown to look like sable. His passion and his tenderness. Would he miss her? Or would he tumble the next maid to give him the eye?

She punched her pillow and flopped down, eager to find sleep. The two men swirled in her mind. Matthew, of whom she knew so little. And William, of whom she knew too much.

It didn’t matter. She’d end up alone with nothing but her memories of loves past.

That was really all she was worth, wasn’t it?

Chapter 2

William Beckett stood beside the front door of Hawksfell Manor as the unfamiliar car drove up to the entrance. The earl wasn’t expecting any guests, at least according to Mr. Carstairs. The butler stood beside him, his chest puffed out and his uniform crisp over his stout figure.

“We don’t know who this is, William,” Mr. Carstairs said. “Nevertheless, we must greet him and learn what his business is here.”

William nodded. The motor was grand, as fine as any car the earl owned. He straightened as the car rolled to a stop. The driver got out and turned to open the back door. The man within thanked him and stepped out onto the drive. He stood and looked up at the manor then at him and Mr. Carstairs. William felt a flash of recognition, strange as that should be. His black, wavy hair, the handsome face and cleft chin, those dark eyes. He looked very familiar indeed.

“My God,” William whispered. “He looks just like the earl.”

“Hush,” Mr. Carstairs said. “Amazing, though.” He cleared his throat. “I am Mr. Carstairs, butler here at Hawksfell Manor.”

The man, perhaps a few years younger than the earl, nodded. “And I’m Viscount Lindhurst.”

“May I ask what your business is here, my lord?”

He smiled, a stunning display of white teeth, and William felt a flash of that allure the earl possessed in abundance.

“I’m here to see my brother,” he said.

“Your brother, my lord?” Mr. Carstairs asked.

“The earl, Mr. Carstairs. I am the earl’s brother, Matthew Hawk.”

William stared at him for a beat then hurried to see to his portmanteaux at the boot of the car. Let Mr. Carstairs handle whatever this was. He would handle the suitcases and leave the rest of the drama to him and the housekeeper.

Carrying the two bags, and leaving the two others for the time-being, he made his way into the house. Mrs. Holmes, the housekeeper, stood in the entry. She wore a puzzled expression on her gently lined face.

“Who is it, William?” she asked.

“The earl’s brother,” William said in explanation. “Where should I put his things?”

She looked flustered, but only for a moment. She’d been at the manor since the earl was a boy, and her calm efficiency rivaled even the butler’s. “To the blue room, William. For now, I suppose.”

As he headed toward the stairs, he could see a few of the maids peeking out of the rooms to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Not to his surprise, Posy was one of them. Her blonde hair caught the afternoon light flooding the entryway.

“Who is he, William?” Posy asked.

He caught a bit of her sweet scent as she trailed along beside him toward the staircase. “Viscount Lindhurst.” He couldn’t say more, not until Mr. Carstairs divulged the visitor’s story in the servants’ hall downstairs. It wasn’t his place.

“Viscount Lindhurst? Who’s that?” She turned to look at the visitor and gasped. “It can’t be,” she whispered.

William stopped and faced her. “What?”

She just shook her head, her blue eyes opened wide. “Oh, William. It’s…” She covered her mouth and ran from the entryway.

He watched her hurry toward the stairs to the lower level. She’d looked almost scared, but how could that be? He’d been with her just the other night, privately in her room now that Mary had left. He’d kissed her full lips, caressed her lush body, and lost himself in her. Her hungry blue eyes had been hot on him as she’d sucked his cock deep into her mouth. Her slender thighs had trembled as he’d licked her pussy until she’d had to bite down on her pillow to keep in her screams of pleasure. Then he’d taken her, with hard thrusts that caused her narrow bed to squeak in protest. He’d never felt the need for a woman he’d felt for Posy from the moment he’d met her.

He’d happily given in to her lure and held her afterward, breathing in her scent and watching her sleep in his arms.

“What was Posy about?” Mrs. Holmes asked him.

“Nothing,” he said, his cheeks hot.

He saw the suitcases to the blue room and returned to the main floor. He was first footman at the manor and knew he was to follow any instructions Mr. Carstairs gave him. He valued his position and was very proud of it. If he sometimes let his guard down with Posy, that was to be expected. She was hot and tempting, and he’d wanted her from the first.

What had she seen when she’d looked at Viscount Lindhurst? Maybe it was just his strong resemblance to the earl that caused her shock. He knew he’d never seen the like before.

He joined Mr. Carstairs in the entry. “Mr. Carstairs?”

“See to the rest of the viscount’s bags, William. I’ve put him in the library and instructed the earl about his arrival.”

“Do you think he’s really the earl’s brother?”

The butler shook his head. “I’d be hard-pressed to find another man who looked so like the earl. Save for his father, of course.”

William nodded and went out onto the drive. Who was this man, and what was really his business here? And what the devil was going on with Posy?

* * * *

Matthew cooled his heels in the earl’s magnificent library. What would his reaction be? Had the butler told him all of it or just his title? No matter. He was a Hawk, and the earl was his brother. It was time for him to have his share of the confusion that had plagued Matthew since meeting with his attorney in London.

He thought of the expressions of shock on the butler and footman on the drive. The footman had gazed at him with deep brown eyes, his face composed. Matthew had seen a flash of something in his stoic expression, though. Recognition, though how could that be? He was handsome, as a footman should be. Tall and fit in his crisp uniform. The thought of the young footman sent a flicker of desire through him. Yes, he was very handsome indeed.

There had been a flock of uniformed maids in the entry, staring despite the glowers they received from the butler and the housekeeper. Mrs. Holmes, as the housekeeper introduced herself, told him his bags were taken upstairs, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long they would remain there. Would the earl throw him out along with his bags?

“So you’re my brother.”

Matthew turned to find the Earl of Hawksfell in the doorway. It was truly like looking into a mirror, and he now understood what had shocked the footman so. He studied the earl’s face, those dark Hawk eyes like his own, and nodded.

“Yes, Lord Hawksfell. I’m your half-brother, actually.”

The earl stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “We can discuss this in here as well as anywhere else, I wager. Better to keep my wife and her cousin out of it for the time being.”

“Planning to send me away, I take it?” Matthew asked.

The earl shrugged. “Not at all.” He waved toward the pair of chairs set before the fireplace. “Sit, Matthew is it?”

“Yes.” Matthew sat, and the earl walked over to a table holding several full decanters.

“I say this calls for a drink,” the earl said, pouring the dark liquor into two glasses. “One doesn’t discover a brother every day. Brandy all right?”

Matthew nodded again. “I’m sorry if this seems sudden.” He took the glass the earl offered him. “I only learned of this myself.”

“I have to say I’m not surprised.” The earl sat and took a sip of his drink. “My father was a randy son-of-a-bitch who no doubt littered the countryside with Hawks over the years.”