“Surely with your father the village schoolteacher you?—”
“We had to sell every book we owned, my lord.”
“Ah.” He was embarrassed, but only for a moment. “You might read to me in bed, you know. To make up for that lost time.”
She put a finger to her lips and pointedly glanced towards the open door.
“Charles, if even Jenkins suspects our nocturnal pursuits I hardly think?—”
“The girls do not, sir.” She kept her voice lowered. “And I should like to keep it that way lest we put ideas in their heads.” Her eyes were adamant. “I see the way they flirt with your men, and I’ll be damned if my staff?—”
“Yourstaff, I daresay, are kept on a very short leash. And you rather handily remedied my crew’s yearnings for female company the day you introduced them to the village madam.”
“Well yes, Mamie has proven quite effective.”
“So they’ve no need to go chasing skirts.”
“Men will always chase skirts, my lord, especially youthful, pretty skirts.”
“Ruby is rather fetching, I’ll admit.” Wells smirked.
“Stop baiting me!”
“Surely you’re not jealous, Charles.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she huffed. “But when you tire of me, you maynothave Ruby, Lord Wellesley. I will insist you send to London for your next mistress. I won’t have you ruin another Cumberland girl.”
“I’ll never tire of you, Fox.” The back of his hand caressed her cheek.
“You will, sir.” Color rose to her face. And then she physically began to propel him towards the door.
“Oh, ye of little faith.” He inwardly laughed, letting her.
“Oh, ye of little decency,” she grumbled from behind, steadily pushing him out.
Suddenly Wells twisted her about to face him, his hand on the back of her neck in a grip that left no question. “I meant it, Charles. I shan’t tire of you, ever.”
She stilled beneath his grasp.
“Must I prove to you my ardor?” He ground his hips against her skirt as his foot slammed the door now behind her, pressing her up against its hard, wood panels.
“My lord . . .” Her protest sounded weak.
“You forget who I am, woman.”
***
Charles’s breaths came fast, her body lit from within. It had been a long time since he’d taken her like this, in the middle of the day, interrupting her duties. Her heart thudded in her chest as her legs wobbled almost, unsteady.
“I have not forgotten, Lord Wellesley.” Her eyes met his in a blaze of heat.
“Prove it,” he ordered, tightening his hold on her neck.
Charles’s hands fell to his fall, fumbling to release him, while he pushed her to her knees, demanding she obey. He angled her head back to give him what he wanted, and she took him as deep as she could, her ability to control his pleasure as arousing as the grip he maintained on her head.
When he’d done, he sounded winded, pressing his forehead a moment to the door. Then he made her stand and lift her skirts as he pushed her shoulders into the hard wood, pulling her hips towards him. He slipped a hand between her legs and began to work her in earnest, until Charles was forced to bite back a scream.
“Do you still say I’ll forget you?” He stared into her eyes, his gaze piercing.
