A burst of shattering glass snapped his gaze to the vial in his hand, fragments dropping into the cold water, while rosemary oil poured.
“Damn ye,” he snarled as he tossed what was left over the side of the bathtub and checked his hand. Fortunately, it was the bandaged one, the shards unable to pass through the thickly wrapped fabric.
But whether he was cursing the little bottle or Anna, he could not be certain; his mind was filled with her. He had let her in, and now he could not push her out, his body reacting as if she were right there with him, pressed close, letting her hands explore him.
One night wouldn’t hurt,he mused, the cold water doing nothing to ease his arousal.Aye, just one night together, and I’d be able to get her out of me head.
It was no different from any other passing desire. Once he had it, he would be able to move on, turning his attention to making a decent life here at Stonebridge. And she was a widow; she was probably feeling somewhat neglected, starved of male company, while in the novel position of being able to do more or less as she pleased. Discreetly, of course.
He thought of the blush in her cheeks and the hunger in her eyes. She was not a typical widow, but then she was not a typical anything.
It’d just be one night…
His loins ached with unrelenting desire, fueled by the thought that, at that very moment, she was probably alone in her chambers, lying on that large bed. Not waiting for him to come in, but perhaps thinking about his lips on hers, his hands tracing the curves of her body, and what he might have done if she had not stopped him from lifting her skirts.
I’d have made ye feel more than ye’ve ever imagined ye could, lass.
His loins burned hotter as his mind conjured distracting visions of all the things he could and would do, if he were in her chambers right now: the sweet taste between her thighs, the warmth of her silken well, the sound of her calling out his name and begging for more, the tangle of their bodies as they moved together, the way she would tremble in his embrace as she reached her conclusion over… and over… and over again.
Muttering another expletive, he sucked in a deep breath and submerged himself entirely in the cold water, hoping it would do something,anything,to quell the flames of desire that raged inside him. Otherwise, he would surely have another sleepless night ahead of him, that no amount of self-given relief would make better.
Ye should never have bloody well kissed her…
CHAPTER 10
Anna wandered into the kitchens, her cheeks nipped by the cool morning air and the refreshing walk she had just indulged in. Longer than usual, in truth, for obvious reasons; she had needed the additional miles in an attempt to clear her head from the night before.
“Ah, the wanderer returns,” Mrs. Wilton said brightly, her face a flushed shade of red as she stood over a pot, stirring vigorously. “Will you take breakfast outside, Your Grace, or in your chambers?”
There didn’t seem to be any unfamiliar faces in the kitchens that morning, just the cook, her assistant, and a handful of maids who were finishing their breakfast.
Anna frowned. “Where are the others?”
“The others?” The cook paused her stirring to raise an eyebrow, then seemed to realize Anna’s meaning. “Oh, you mean theScots? We’ve come to an agreement. Our people have the kitchens from five o’clock until ten o’clock, and they have it from ten o’clock until one o’clock for His Grace’s luncheon, and then we all come together to prepare dinner. They’re actually rather nice.”
The newsshouldhave quietened Anna’s restless mood, but, instead, it struck her with a small shiver of unease. If everyone just accepted this situation, then she would have to accept it, too.
After last night, that was no longer possible, though.
Do you not see that he wants me gone? Do you not understand that, if I am no longer here, he will get rid of many of you, too?She held her tongue. Itwasgood that her staff and his were getting along much better, and she did not want to scare the people she cared for, simply because she was afraid for her future.
“Does His Grace not partake in breakfast, then? Or are you making it for him?” she asked, forcing indifference into her voice.
“We make it for him, Your Grace,” Mrs. Wilton replied, as she resumed her impassioned stirring. “Although he asks for peculiar things. This morning, he wanted salted porridge with an egg on top. I can’t imagine it tasted very good, but he seemed satisfied.”
She pulled a face while, on the other side of the room, the maids chuckled quietly. The sort of giggles that could only come from girls who were rather enamored.
“I suppose we should consider taking breakfast together, so that you do not have to trouble yourself twice,” Anna said stiffly. “If we are to live together, we should at least tolerate one another enough to share meals.”
The cook wafted a dismissive hand. “It’s no bother, Your Grace. I will make as many breakfasts as I am required to, and I won’t mind a bit.” She flashed a warm grin at her mistress. “It’s surprisingly nice to be so busy, feeding all the newcomers.”
“I am… glad to hear it.” Anna almost choked on the half-lie.
She was happy for Mrs. Wilton, certainly, but she would have much preferred if Jeremy and his entourage were preparing to leave again. As far from Stonebridge, especially her library, as possible.
“Do you happen to know where His Grace is this morning? Has he risen yet?” Anna asked as she plucked a warm scone from the counter, the comforting scent of butter, sugar, and currants doing almost nothing to improve her temper.
There had been no one awake except for a few servants when she left the manor for her dawn walk, and she had not chosen to take much attention to Jeremy’s habits. Was he a late riser? Did he enjoy morning walks, like she did? What had he done withhis days when he was in Scotland? These were questions that fascinated her, but she definitely had no intention of asking him.
