For the Earl's Taking Page 3

  To look at her constituted his perdition. Something in her pulled a cord inside him, but he did not understand how or why. He kept a proud stance, a haughty stare in his piercing dark eyes and hoped it disguised his turmoil at the sight of her. “I gather you borrowed Schelling.”

  She kept her eyes on the floor. She could not risk eyeing him; it’d certainly do unnerving things to her insides. “That’s right, my lord.”

  He stood up from his chair behind the desk and came to lean on the table in front of her. “Look at me when you address me!” He crossed his arms.

  Then slowly she lifted her eyes. He felt as if that her stare caressed his body. He cursed his stupidity, because strange things happened to him when she looked in his eyes. “Would you care to explain to me how is it that you are capable to read German philosophy.”

  Sarah felt like giving a cross answer for his arrogance in assuming that a woman and a servant were below such a high subject. Arrogance being what noblemen did, was it not. He would take it not as an accusation, but as praise.

  “The vicar’s wife worked as our village teacher. She saw that I liked to study and tutored me a couple of years more than the parish offered.”

  Hugh stood surprised that a village girl could reach so high. She must have a bright intelligence. “How long did that take?”

  She shrugged slightly, as if this had no importance. “Almost four years.” Not enough to work as a governess, though, as she did not complete her studies.

  Now he felt really amazed. “Four years?” He asked mildly. Four years, the time he prepared for university at Eton. “And what did she taught you?”

  “Latin, Greek, Philosophy, geography and mathematics.” She paused, blinked her wide stare. “It constituted a very informal process.” She had difficulty in bearing his stare. Her eyes moved about.

  “I see.” It amazed him, but this did not have to do with why he summoned her here, did it? He summoned her here because…because… “You’ve been,” he paused pretending to select the right word, “busy these days, haven’t you?”

  At this, her eyes opened wide, her lips parted, all he could do not to go to her and enfold her in his arms.

  “Yes, my lord, I try to perform my duties as perfectly as I can.” A flicker of rebellion shone in her eyes, before she lowered them. That rebellious look made him hot.

  He just wanted to see her, to look at her after all these days she managed to stay away from him. He fast tumbled out of control. And when he saw it, he had paced towards her, standing two steps from her.

  She bent her head back to look at him, startled. She flushed but motioned to pace back. Changed her mind. She kept her ground.

  He grinned inwardly. So this was meek Sarah Barrow. “You’re avoiding me.” He murmured in a silk lordish tone.

  “I am sorry if this is the impression I give, my lord. But I can assure you I’ve been busy.” She stared the floor so she gasped in surprise when two large hands circled her waist, lifted her and sat her on the desk.

  “You lie so meekly, Miss Barrow.” He stood close. Too close.

  When she lifted her eyes to him, she saw fire coming from his piercing dark eyes. She would go. She had to find a way of leaving the library. She would not allow herself to succumb again. Her heart thundered.

  Now his hand had reached her face and his thumb caressed her lips in tempting slow movements. She sucked in the air as pleasure spread over her skin. Her eyelids felt heavy, her body begun to melt. The manly scent of him assailed her nostrils; his short breath feathered her cheeks. He would kiss her and she would combust again.

  Under his thumb, her lips felt soft and sweet. His fantasy envisioned their bodies entwined and the utter craving that made his nights hell, turn into pleasure and fulfilment. His thumb insisted on her inviting lips, until she arrested it between her teeth, tasting it as if it taste like a heavenly delicacy. He went hot, mad, hard. All the promises her lips uttered contributed to his desperation.

  Voices sounded in the corridor not far from the library. Lord Hawkmore stared back at the door. Lady Adelaide. This gave her the perfect excuse to drag herself away from him. She quickly jumped from the desk; half curtsied and left in haste.

  In the corridor, Lady Hawkmore had her back to the library door. Sarah slipped through the other side and hid in the servants’ stairs, breathless.

  An idiot! Hugh had his both hands on the desk and bent on the right spot she had been. He acted like a bloody bully. Just because his body spun out of control. Not only his body. He went out of his mind!

  Adelaide knocked politely. He told her to come in. He turned to look at her. Her sapphire eyes looked at him attentive. “Is there a problem?” She asked coolly.

  He raked his hand over his black shinning hair. “No. No, just some tenants’ issue.” He lied. He had to justify his state of complete disarray.

  “Alright.” She rolled her diamond bracelet distractedly. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that we’re receiving guests for dinner.” Perfectly coiffured, her wheat hair came in curls from the top of her head. She dressed an expensive silk lavender day gown, made to flatter her lush figure and bring out her sapphire large eyes. She would probably go shopping with some lady or other.

  He turned to surround his desk and hide the vexed expression that crossed his aristocratic face. He did not know if he had conditions to put on a social mask tonight. “Yes, of course I remember.” He sank on his chair and eyed her as he managed to put on a nonchalant posture, leaning back on the seat and spreading his arms on the desk. “I’ll be ready.” He could only hope she did not notices his…altered body state.

  Without a word she turned to leave, intrigued by his strange behaviour.

  Hugh had to endure the dinner party with stoic forbearance. The futile talking that went around him did not entertain him. Had it always been like that, or his mood drowned today?

  His mind elsewhere. Remorse and frustration conflicted inside him. He regretted manhandling his own maid as if he did nothing more than play the barbarian lord. Furthermore, being denied what he wanted listed among something unusual for him. He must be out of his mind to lust after a woman so distant from his world. Wanting her configured a mistake, hell. Surely, it would be ultimate paradise if he could have her. However, he would not. No. No. No! It stood below him. Undignified. It felt, oh, God, it felt urgent!

  There had been matters requiring his attention: tenants, accounting, repairs in his country manor. Also, he needed an heir, for pity’s sake! Nevertheless, since he had set his eyes on Sarah, he could not bring himself to visit his wife’s chambers. He could not stop his body from desiring her. It never happened before! He felt degradingly unable to figure out what went wrong with him.

  When the last guest departed at last, Hugh wanted to take refuge in his chambers. Maybe, the oblivion of sleep would do him good. He bid Adelaide good night and climbed up. As he reached the top step, he looked up to the servants’ bedrooms floor. She slept there, on the third room from the left. His housekeeper kept a record of the bedroom distribution and he had peeked at it. Would she let him in if he crept up there? His dark eyes stared up so intently that he had to make a physical effort to stop his feet from following them.

  Adelaide did not stand far behind, watching him stuck on the top of the stairs. She wondered what went on.

  Sarah lay in her hard mattress cot in the dark and heard the last carriage leave the Victorian mansion. Sometimes, servants were required to work extra hours in case there were balls or dinner. But this time they had no need of that, being this relatively small dinner reception.

  Sarah could not sleep anyway, imagining Lord Hawkmore going about, exposed to the other women’s admiration. She had no doubt that he attracted women’s glances, and hungry ones at that. He could surely have any mistress, any affair he wanted. She heard the girls’ gossip about other lords love life. Lord Hawkmore would not be different. The thought made Sarah feel small. Who was she to want a man like that? Of course, he
would never regard her as more than a distraction. A fleeting one. Momentary. Passing. One that would cause the loss of her job, possibly. She could not afford that. She felt unable to stop wanting him anyway. Maybe she should enquire around for another position, one that would not tempt her to lose her body, her soul. Her mind. With that, she turned and fell asleep.

  CHAPTER 4

  Sarah had just finished cleaning the turret’s top floor, which they never used. Mrs Talcott asked her to come up here and straighten it up. The upstairs servants, busy with the guests’ rooms. Little there: an old table and chair, probably taken there when new ones arrived.

  Now she stood in front of the window, enjoying the view of the park. Lost in thoughts, she heard a noise. Startled, she looked back at the door. Almost covering its frame, Lord Hawkmore. The sight of him made her heart vault. He dressed black trousers and white shirt open at the neck, as he usually did when at home. Why did he have to be so impossibly attractive?

  She turned in an abrupt movement. “My lord.” She curtsied and kept her eyes on the floor, lest they gave her away.

  Hugh came up there in search of a place where he would not be disturbed. Sometimes he took refuge there to get away from his busy household. Today though he had just wanted to look at the park and let his thoughts run free, even if they’d be on the woman standing by the window. Seeing her gave him a bittersweet taste of heaven. He never knew any other servant who appeared so tempting in uniform.

  “The view is nice, isn’t it?” His voice came hoarse.

  She lifted her eyes slowly in a way that made him feel she touched him. “Y-yes, it is, my lord.”

  They stood there eyeing each other in a silence full of electricity. Long seconds went by as time stopped for them.

  Sarah’s heart beat so fast that she thought it would jump out of her chest. The air caught in her throat and she flushed. His piercing black eyes fast on her, revolving her insides.

  Hugh registered her pink face, her wide eyes, her narrow waist wrapped in the apron. How he wanted to unfasten her apron, her cap, her reserve. He could smell the cleaning soap that came from her, and even this made his groin stir. He stepped inside the room, his shoes resounding on the wooden floor, his hands in his pockets.

  Sarah saw him pacing nearer, mesmerized by his jet-black hair falling on his forehead. Her head bent back, her eyes unblinking, her lips parted. He advanced two steps more and she seemed to awaken from somnambulism. “My lord, I’ve just finished, if you’ll excuse me.” She started walking towards the door, but he stood in the way. So she moved to surround him.

  He extended his arm to his side, blocking her. “Stay.” A dry command in a hoarse murmur. He heard her gulp in short breaths and his thoughts blurred.

  His extended hand touched her waist. She closed her eyes tightly in search of a clear mind, but she only got the smell of him. Alluring.

  “Please, stay” He mended.

  She snapped her eyes open. He actually asked. His dark eyes never left hers. His arm pulled her closer.

  “I am tired.” As he talked, he pulled her nearer. “I am tired of fighting this back.” He bent towards her. His other hand circled the nape of her neck. “This fire is consuming me.” Now their noses were almost touching. “I can’t eat.” His thumb strolled behind her ear. “I can’t sleep.” His eyes lowered to her lips. “I can’t think clearly.”

  His hand warm behind her neck. His hot breath mimed the fiery haze that overtook her. Liquid fire dripping in her middle. Her right hand went to his chest on its own volition. Her fingers crept in between the buttons of his shirt.

  He reacted tightening his arm around her narrow waist. “Here…” His hand left her nape and unbuttoned four top buttons on his shirt. “Touch me as you like.”

  Her eyes slid to his lean, wide chest covered with hair. She moistened her lips and her hand ventured further inside his shirt. She caressed his warm taught skin and revelled in the soft hair that covered it. He closed his eyes and sighed. His mouth descended to her neck. Her head fell back with a sigh and her other hand immersed in his sleek hair. They were completely lost to reality.

  Hugh revelled in the smooth skin along her long neck. His hand tore out her cap and her hairpins; they spread randomly on the wooden floor. He lifted his head to look at her shiny sparrow-wing brown hair falling to the small of her back.

  “Beautiful!” The arm around her waist lifted her to his eye level and he heard her breath catch. He took possession of her mouth and dived in a ragged paradise. His tongue sought hers and both danced an erotic choreography, the hand on her neck keeping her in place. Her arms circled his neck; her fingers raked his hair.

  Sarah felt his bulky erection pressing in the middle of her. She wished they could get closer and closer still. She melted inside. His kisses were driving her crazy.

  Hugh needed more, more. Much more! His hand fumbled with her apron, behind her. He paced with her in his arm and sat her on the table by the window. Still, he towered over her and he stood amazed at how her pettiness felt good against his body. Slowly he saw her head move, her hair falling around her enchantingly plain face. Her lips reached his chest through his shirt “V”. The feel of her mouth on his skin almost unbearable.

  He groaned. “Oh, Sarah!” He murmured full of passion. “You’re going to finish me up!” He entangled his fingers in her hair and pulled her to him, while his hands searched her breast. No corset, her body all softness for him. He palmed her plum breasts and found them pebbled. He undid the front buttons of her uniform. His hands reached her mounds over her coarse chemise. He yanked the chemise down. His mouth on them in no time.

  His caresses on her breast threw Sarah in a cauldron of boiling madness. Her legs surrounded his waist, she embraced him tighter, her head fell back with a moan.

  His tongue licked one. His hand pinched the other. His lips sucked one. His fingers rolled the other nipple. Her sincere response to him drove him to insanity. She took him without premeditated techniques, without sophistication. He lifted his head and caught her face in his hands. Her hazy eyes met his.

  “Have you done this before?” She just shook her head plainly. He stood there looking at her, so he held her in his arms with a frustrated sigh.

  He could not do this. Not here. Take her virginity, just like that. This continued no middle ages, for Christ’s sake! She had the right to it. She had the right to keep herself to her future husband, with whom she would have children. His thoughts stuck. She? Married? Over his dead body. This woman would be his. Only his!

  However, he did want to do something for her. For now, at least. His hand sought the hem of her skirts and lifted them to her mid thighs. His fingers crept under them, caressing all the way up.

  Sarah thrilled at the sensation of his hands in so intimate a place. She appeared confused at his intentions.

  “I’m not going to hurt you.” He moaned as he came across her drawers. His fingers went inside and he kissed her mouth. He found her overflowing wet, which made him almost lose control.

  When he unfolded her, she experienced such heavenly sensations. New, alien! His middle finger touched a place she had not known existed and begun a circular movement around its intumescence. She felt herself dissipating in a mellifluous dripping. His arms held her waist. His mouth came for her breast. She drowned farther and farther.

  “My lord, please!” He quickened his hand. She moved against it. Her sensations got more intense. When she thought she could not take it anymore, she exploded in violent spasms and loud moans. Her body fell on the table, eyes shut, deep sigh.

  Seeing her so spent caused a wave of tenderness in him. He wanted to take her to his chambers and keep her there endlessly. His member still throbbed with unsatisfied need. Her feminine smell on his hand only made matters worse.

  She opened her eyes, looked at him and sat back. “My lord, I can…I can…” Her hands reached the front of his trousers. She might be a virgin, but she heard the other girls’ talk. She had bee
n no ignorant of the whole…stuff.

  She eyed him in a dishevelled state: Hair falling to her face, unbuttoned dress, one shoulder showing, and a breast. She did not seem to care. There was neither false modesty, nor showing off in her countenance. He had never met a woman who proved to be so…womanly.

  Hugh held her hands gently. Tempting. So tempting! “No!” His voice a little brusque and he tried to soften it. “No need.” He kissed her hands and looked in her eyes. They had an expression of purity in them that turned his insides to butter in a pan. “I’ll leave now, so that you can recompose yourself.” And he turned before his body got the best of him.

  Sarah watched him walk away, regretting the abrupt end to that blissful moment.

  That night she lay on her hard double cot replaying their interlude in the top of the turret. Even now the memory of the sensations he provoked in her body made her hot. She wanted it again. Oh, God, she wanted it again and again! How could it be possible? Once should have been enough. A dangerous situation for her. She had little to gain and everything to lose. Of course, he wanted her. This looked plainly obvious. Nonetheless, what would happen when his desire cooled? Would he just ignore her or would he fire her to erase the traces of his sins? Once jobless, she would have few choices. She could save a part of her wages, but it would not support her for long. It would be very difficult for her to get back on her feet if worse came to worst.

  Her rational mind told her to try to find another job now, while it was still time. But servant positions constituted a lottery. She might get to work in a place where she would get along peacefully, or she might find bully lords, ladies, butlers or housekeepers. Who could tell? The Hawkmores’ did not list among the worst place to work after all. Lady Hawkmore let Mrs Talcott manage the household as the housekeeper had been doing before Lord Hawkmore got married, with little changes. The lady of the house seemed more interested in couturiers and her social life than household affairs. So the servants were left alone. As a matter of fact, the lady’s maid complained to be the busiest among the staff. And Mrs Talcott seemed easy-going enough.