“Christ, Fox, you are amazing, you know that, don’t you?”
“No, my lord, I am sure you have had better.”
“I have not.”
She laughed only more. “Oh I am certain youhave, sir.”
“No, Fox, I mean it.” She quelled her laughter as he held her gaze. “No woman has ever made love to me as you do. I do not jest.”
She broke from him. “I suppose no woman has ever been so foolish as to make love to you as I do, sir.”
“Charles.” He took her hand in his calloused palm.
“Don’t.” She felt sudden, inexplicable hurt. “Leave be such talk.” Her finger traced the bridge of his Roman nose, landing at his full lips, where he promptly kissed the tip. “I wish only to remember how much I enjoyed you last night. Thank you, Roland.”
“Youthankme?” He looked incredulous. “Good God, woman, I have never in my life been thanked for?—”
“Fucking, my lord?” She scrunched her lips in a smile. “Aye, well, I suppose we Cumberland lasses like a good roll in the hay, is all.” She watched his eyes spark. “You’ve corrupted me thoroughly,Your Grace, down to the very words I dare to speak. I am indeed Eve, it seems, fallen for the serpent.”
***
“No, Fox, ’tis you who’ve corrupted me.” Wells laughed, hugging her closer and no longer caring how she addressed him anymore in the privacy of his own chamber. “I wish to stay abed with you all day. Don’t leave me, lass.”
She swatted at him playfully. “Housekeeper by day, sir, mistress only by night, and I’ve work to do, so leave be.” She pushed him from her.
“And what if I found a new housekeeper, eh? And made you my mistress only, Charles?” He propped himself up on one arm.
“No.” Her tone held an edge as she slipped from the bed, hastily beginning to dress. “That won’t do, sir, and you know it.”
“But surely with time you’ll not want to continue such menial labor as?—”
“No, Lord Wells.” Her voice was firm. “I am more than some man’s mistress, and always will be.”
He frowned. “I never said you were less, Charles.”
“Please.” She turned to look at him. “Do not ruin what we have.” Her expression was almost sad. “I enjoy you very much, my lord. Let us enjoy one another for as long as we may.”
And with that, she slipped from his room—from his very grasp it felt like—in a hurry, it seemed, to leave him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Wells scanned his housekeeper’s letter, looking for information he did not already know.
Dearest Ellie,
I can scarce believe winter is already upon us and I have yet to visit you again. I sense your disappointment for miles, sister. Iwilltry. Lord Wells has given me leave, and while it will be our first Christmas apart . . .
Christmas, bah. Why did women include so many unnecessary details in their letters? He skimmed more text.
Do you remember Christmases past in London? Perhaps you were too young to recall, Ellie. I remember them well. Mother’s family would put on such a lovely show. I imagine they still do. Sometimes I wonder how our grandparents are. But I remind myself they did not want us, they wanted our obedience only. Is it any wonder mother left? I should have done the same if I were her.
He skipped another section.
. . . and I have made peace with everyone, even his lordship. He has proven himself most generous, Ellie, and I am ashamed, almost, to have written the things I did before. Though I admit he mystifies me still. Did you know he captained a sailing ship with Cuthbert? Only imagine their adventures! I am jealous at times of all men may do which is forbidden us women . . .
Wells handed Cuthbert Charles’s letter without a word. What had her life in London been like? And why had her mother’s family abandoned them? Surely if they’d known the state she and her sister had been relegated to they would have sent for their grandchildren, cared for them. Yet perhaps the Merrinan girls had not wanted to be cared for. Perhaps the conditions placed upon them were such that they would rather starve in Cumberland than spend a cozy Christmas in London. He could well imagine his Fox refusing assistance for pride. God knewhe’drather freeze in this drafty old Abbey than be squeezed into some overstuffed London drawing room making chitchat with his mother’s circle of acquaintance.
Perhaps that was what appealed about his mistress: She did not fawn or simper, did not feign interest in him either. In fact, she’d resisted him to no end at first. Nor had she delusions as to their relations. He couldn’t marry her, a commoner, even if he wished. No, he truly did believe she enjoyed his company. After all, she came tohimnow nights; he no longer had to threaten, cajole, or even ask. And it was damn refreshing to have a woman like him as he was. It was almost liberating after his experience in London. Hell, he’d take a Cumberland lass any day over theTon’sscheming debutantes. Charles Merrinan was a hidden gem, and he was deuced happy to have her.
