So he did.He covered her hand with his, guided the rhythm, taught her the pace and pressure that would undo him.And when she took over — confident now, deliberate in her actions — his head fell back against the hay, his fingers gripping fistfuls of straw as though anchoring himself.
“Lise,” he groaned.“Lise, I cannot ...I am going to —”
“Yes?”she said, feeling curious, thrilled, powerful.“Yes.”
Within moments, he spent himself with a choked gasp, spilling into her hand, his back arching like a bow.She recalled when he stroked her how every muscle in her body had drawn tight before releasing, and knew the same was happening for him.
Continuing to watch him through it, she felt her own myriad emotions, wonder and strangely sorrow, too, that they weren’t joined and experiencing this together.
When he could breathe again and his glorious gray eyes opened, she released him.Lise stared at the evidence of his release upon her fingers.Was this really what made a baby?How simple and how marvelous!
Jonathan fumbled for his handkerchief, cleaned her hand as gently as he could.She would swear he buttoned his fall with shaking fingers.
Placing her palm upon his heart, she was amazed to feel it was still racing.Even more surprised at how her own heartbeat galloped merely from bringing him this pleasure.
“Lise —” he began.
One of the horses whinnied.Reality crashed back, buffeting her like a cold wind.Imagine trying to be a blushing bride for Friedrich had she lain with Jonathan and let his large member fill her.Perhaps his babe would’ve been growing inside her that night.
Wordlessly, she pulled away, using every last bit of self-preservation to do so.Because what she wanted to do was lie down in the straw, pull up her skirts and spread her legs for this man.
Desperate need and her tingling flesh made her wet.
“Lise,” he groaned her name again, as she made her way to the ladder on trembling hands and knees.
As she descended, she couldn’t help looking at him once more, his troubled gray eyes and his harsh expression, before both he and the loft were lost from view.If ever a man appeared tormented, it was Lord Jonathan Bowen.
Morning came too soon, bright and merciless.Lise’s heart squeezed uncomfortably as she recalled her situation.Betrothed to one, in love with another.For she was certain the all-encompassing feeling was love, holding her on the edge of fear over his welfare and deep yearning to be with him.
Simply knowing Jonathan was on the property caused her to dress hurriedly and go downstairs.At that point, however, she couldn’t think of a way to reach the stable unseen.After all, her mother appeared as soon as Lise’s feet touched the last stair.
“Breakfast, Lise.”It wasn’t an invitation.They ate in silence.Lise had nothing to say.She couldn’t possibly defend herself, and thus, she felt fortunate her mother decided the best punishment was ignoring her daughter while watching her carefully.
Later, in the drawing room, Lise pretended to work on her embroidery, wondering if Jonathan was hungry or thirsty.That she wasn’t even attempting the French-to-German translation gave away her state of mind.
Finally, Frau von Ostenfeld seemingly couldn’t stand the strain of silence a moment longer.
“What is troubling you, besides your recent bad judgment?”Perhaps her mother was putting yesterday’s events behind her, maybe even forgiving her only daughter for all the anxious moments she’d caused.
Before Lise could come up with a neutral answer that didn’t involve her fervent wish to check on a certain visitor in the hay loft, she heard the sound of hooves on the drive.
“The French!”Her needle slipped, pricking her finger.A bead of blood welled up, bright against her pale skin.
“No, dear,” her mother said, sounding perfectly calm.“Not unless an entire detachment is seated upon one horse.”She made atsk-tskingsound.“You’ve forgotten Friedrich’s visit.”
As Lise gasped, having indeed forgotten, her mother rose to look out the window.“He’s staying the night with us.”
When he entered the drawing room, Friedrich wore his usual smile that set everyone at ease.Her father, having been made aware of their guest, showed up a moment later, in time to have his hand firmly shaken.
“I have a special gift for you, Frau von Ostenfeld” Friedrich said.
Gesturing behind him to where Hans stood, holding a scratchy hemp sack, he proclaimed, “Coffee beans, a generous supply to ease any scarcity you might be experiencing.”
Lise’s mother gasped softly.“How on earth?”she began, making Friedrich laugh.
“I’m glad you’re pleased.I can say only that I have my ways.”He raised an eyebrow and gave a knowing nod to Lise’s father.
For his part, Herr von Ostenfeld appeared grateful but wary.Unimpressed,Lise thought, as her father sent Hans staggering out of the room to take the beans to the kitchen.If she read her father correctly, he didn’t care for the younger man’s assumption that they had a scarcity of anything.
