Her Rogue, page 21
Harriet tucked the viscountess’s hand beneath the coverlet, snuffed the candle, and left.
Chapter Sixteen
After two bracing swallows of cooking brandy and a change into a spare footman’s uniform, Ben climbed to the nursery. The house steward had graciously offered to have his boots cleaned while Ben visited with the girls.
Kitty and Lucy burst into gales of laughter when they spied him in the footman’s livery. He stood in the doorway with his hands on his hips, smiling freely for the first time all day.
“Do you not think I have what it takes to be a footman?” he asked to the room.
Elizabeth sat on a child-sized chaise near the window reading a book. The two younger girls were playing some sort of game that involved a ball, two dolls lying prone on the floor, and much hopping. No doubt something invented by Kitty.
“You aren’t serious enough,” Lucy yelled, despite running toward him. She grabbed his hand and swung it back and forth.
Kitty had collapsed with laughter and remained on the rug, staring up at the ceiling. “If it means I no longer have to study, I would support your becoming a footman.”
Elizabeth finally surfaced from her book and frowned. “Why won’t you be teaching us anymore?”
He caught Lucy’s other hand and spun around, lifting her off the floor. She giggled with delight. Coming up here had been the perfect antidote to all that had happened earlier.
“Oh, I am still your tutor, do not worry yourself over that, Miss Catherine.” He purposely addressed Kitty, who scowled to his face then turned toward the wall. Not before he saw the beginning of a smile, though. Something burned hot in his chest.
Oh yes, this was the place to be when he couldn’t be with Hattie, when he didn’t know what to think of Lady P, when he was still a little mortified by his behavior that morning.
He lowered himself onto a sofa. “We are simply canceling lessons.” When Kitty turned hopefully his way, he added, “For today.”
She didn’t pout for long. “That’s better than nothing.”
“But why are you dressed like that?” Elizabeth asked, her book now face down in her lap.
As Lucy plopped down beside him, he stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. “Your grandmother and I were riding back from the vicarage when the carriage got stuck in the mud. I became rather filthy, which is nothing. Your grandmother was hurt, however. Though I am certain she will recover in a few days.”
He hoped so. There was always the fear of infection with a cut like the one she sustained.
“I want to see her!” Lucy cried.
He smoothed a hand over her hair. “She must rest right now. Your mother will take you to visit when the time is right.”
Kitty popped up from the floor. “Mr. Fauntleroy, will you play this game with us? I created it myself.”
“I would love to.”
“Yes! I will need to reset it.” She looked him over. “And make it more difficult. Lucy, come help.”
Ben lofted an eyebrow toward Kitty even though Lucy had already hopped off the sofa.
Kitty sighed dramatically. “Please?” Once her sister was by her side, she addressed Ben again. “You cannot peek while we prepare. You must hide your eyes.”
“What if I look out the window?”
She thought for a moment and then nodded. “That is acceptable.”
Ben grinned and went to stand before the dormer window overlooking the drive up to the front of the manor. What a child. What a woman she would be one day. Harriet, if she could keep Lady P’s influence at bay, would raise all three of them up to be formidable women. He’d thought Lady P rigid but also weak. If she were under some sort of duress from Saunders, that would fit. If so, perhaps he and Hattie had both misjudged her.
Elizabeth slipped up next to him, also staring out at the gloomy, wet landscape. “May I ask you something?”
“Of course. Always.” Or, until he was booted from the premises for his lies and ambitions.
“Will my grandmother truly be all right? When my father fell ill, they told us children it was nothing more than the ague. That he would be well in a few days. He was not.” She was still staring out the window, but her lower lip was trembling. “I understand why you might tell Kitty and Lucy Grandmother will recover, but please be honest with me.”
There was that heat again, stinging its way across his chest. How could he have known that agreeing to be the pretend tutor to three small girls would not be a lark? How could he have known that the three of them would burrow into his heart?
He’d have to agonize over an ale later. Now, he must answer Elizabeth. “She suffered a bump to the head and a deep cut to her leg. The cut is more worrisome since it could turn putrid. I am told the surgeon is competent so that improves her chances.”
She drew in a deep breath. “Thank you. Will you let me know if...”
“I will share any information I have with you.”
“You are a nice adult, Mr. Fauntleroy.” She said this to the windowpane but nevertheless it wafted up and surrounded him as if she’d hugged him. This was high praise from Elizabeth.
“We’re ready!” Kitty called.
He whirled around to find the room in complete chaos, with random items littering the floor and the furniture moved. After listening carefully to Kitty’s instructions, he took the ball of yarn in hand and began to navigate the obstacle-strewn course set for him, all without breaking any of the convoluted rules Kitty had laid down and then some that Lucy decided even after he’d begun. He had the time of his life. By the end, he sat sprawled on the floor laughing, sure to have a few more bruises tomorrow.
Lucy crashed into him from behind, slinging her arms around his neck. The door at the far end of the room swung open. The nursery maid Janie held William in her arms. In true lordly fashion, the toddler demanded to be put down. Once his feet hit the floor, he dashed over and threw himself at Ben’s chest.
Lucy laughed loudly in his ear as she leaned over his shoulder and kissed her brother. “Billy boy! We’ve made a sandwich of Mr. Fauntleroy.”
Ben wanted to laugh at that, but he was in the process of gingerly pushing the viscount off him as if his small body were a loaded barrel of gunpowder. He couldn’t be seen anywhere near William. Certainly couldn’t be caught with the boy in his arms. Alas, the child thought this was a game and kept coming right back. While Lady P was incapacitated and it was doubtful Saunders ever visited the nursery, Ben couldn’t be sure they didn’t employ some of the servants as spies. Not Janie, of course, who was firmly on Hattie’s side. But someone could enter the room at any time and Ben could not, would not make things any worse for Hattie than they already were. He sent a desperate-eyed plea to Janie.
It was Elizabeth who came to the rescue though. “Billy, come take a turn at Kitty’s new game,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the other side of the room.
Ben rose and made for the door. “Ladies, I shall see you at the usual time tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your lesson-free day.”
“What? No! You can’t leave,” Kitty protested, surprising him into halting his progress.
Elizabeth frowned and opened her mouth, no doubt to reprimand her sister. Ben intervened, crouching and waving Kitty and Lucy over. Their older sister already carried a heavy burden. She didn’t need to make excuses for him.
He took each girl’s hand in his and sighed. “Unfortunately, I am an adult and sometimes I have to do adult things.” He jiggled their hands but included Elizabeth in his message. “All of you are children, though, and you can play for the rest of the day. Enjoy yourselves and your brother.” He caught Kitty’s eye. “I, meanwhile, will have the memory of playing the best game ever to carry me through the afternoon.” He looked to Lucy. “Not to mention, becoming a sandwich for the first time ever.”
He waited a moment, to absorb their smiles and giggles, and then backed out the door, pulling it closed after him. He strode toward the staircase but instead of heading down, he sat on the top step and sighed.
It was going to be harder than he’d ever thought to leave those girls. And William, he barely acknowledged, too worried someone somewhere in this house could hear his thoughts. In a matter of days or weeks, he’d no longer be welcome here at Rutledge Manor. Saunders and Lady P would see to that. He’d never see these children again. He refused to think about their mother right now. Thinking of her offspring was difficult enough. He would be mere miles away from them, might occasionally see them or hear about them, but would never be able to speak with them.
A hand to his shoulder startled him out of his heavy thoughts. Elizabeth sat down beside him. “I don’t want to ever become an adult.”
He almost laughed at that from the child who was sometimes more mature than the adults around her, himself included. Out of respect, he swallowed his mirth. “It’s not all so horrible. I get to go to bed when I want. I don’t have to read anything I don’t want to. I can even skip church services if I want, though I suppose Mr. Callan cannot.”
Amazingly, she smiled at that, briefly, before turning serious again. “I’m sorry you have to go when you don’t want to. Do you know what I like to do sometimes when I am sad or frustrated?”
“No, what?” He was thrilled to be gifted with another secret thought from Miss Elizabeth Rutledge.
“I run and run and run. Until I can hardly breathe, and all those stupid thoughts have tumbled right out of my brain.”
He sat with that for a moment. “Perhaps I shall try that on my way back to the inn. Thank you for sharing.”
She rose and turned, all in one movement, so fast he wondered if he might have imagined it, but no—Elizabeth rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
The unaccustomed tenderness tore through him. These girls, and their mother, made him long for things he had never considered. He couldn’t stay; he knew that. But how was he ever going to leave?
HARRIET LEFT THE HOUSE a few minutes early that night, wanting to arrive at the cottage before Ben. If she was already undressed and beneath the coverlet when he arrived, there would be more time for bedsport. Conversely, there would be less time for talking. She didn’t mind speaking with Ben, of course she didn’t. He was witty—when he wasn’t trying to be Prince Charming—and, as Penelope realized, he was intelligent. In mathematics but also in unconventional ways. Ben King had always known how to decipher people. Still, she much preferred their other activities.
When she arrived, though, and slowly pushed open the door, it was to find Benjamin King pacing the length of the small house, still fully clothed, though he’d removed his boots. He came to her no sooner than she’d latched the door and swept her into his arms, burying his face in her neck and murmuring her name.
She couldn’t complain. He smelled divine, his cologne mixing with his own scent to make her think of warm summer nights and, well, this. His embrace was tight, holding her fast to the hard length of his body. When he kissed her softly, right at the base of her neck, she came alive at once.
He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. With a tenderness that made her shudder with need—and a small frisson of fear—he undressed her, then sat back to study her. She should have been discomfited by his perusal of her old, motherly body, but she couldn’t be, not with the clear admiration in his eyes. Harriet couldn’t lie to herself. To be desired as a woman, not as a duke’s daughter with a large dowry, nor as a wife to bear children, was a boon to her self-worth.
She reached up to help remove Ben’s coat, but he pulled her hand away and stripped it off himself. Then he leaned over and kissed her breastbone, trailing down through the valley of her bosom.
“You still have too many clothes on,” she complained.
He shook his head and let his lips fall gently on her abdomen. “Let me worship you.”
Well, she could hardly argue with that. “If you insist.”
He returned upward to kiss her in slow, languid sips that aroused her more than she would have thought. He retreated a fraction and pressed his lips to her chin. “How am I so lucky?”
Goodness, this was seduction at its finest. She was nearly ready to explode, and he’d not even visited the pertinent parts. All from a man of four and twenty. Leisurely, he made his way down, over, around her body, marking a path of fire that left her panting and almost begging. Almost.
Then he applied himself to pleasuring her the way he’d known nothing about days before. She could not fault his learning. He wound her up, retreated, then came back to do it all again. He didn’t relent until she called his name sharply. Next thing she knew, she was dragged under by waves of pleasure that seemed endless. But end they did, leaving her limp and oh-so-satisfied.
Ben pulled his shirt over his head and stretched out beside her, still wearing his pantaloons. He gathered her close, seemingly not intent on doing anything else, so Harriet laid her head on his chest and listened to the comforting tattoo of his heart.
“Has Lucy been sleeping soundly of late?”
Harriet smiled and kissed his chest. “She has. There has been only one instance of her rising and trying to leave the room. The maid easily redirected her.”
“That’s a relief.”
They fell silent again and laid there for so long, she thought he might have fallen asleep but then he posed another question. “How is Lady P?”
How kind of him to ask, given his feelings for her. “She slept most of the day, only waking briefly a few times. She was coherent when awake. No sign of a fever yet.”
“Good.” Then, almost hesitantly, which was so unlike Ben, he asked “Do you know anything of Lady P’s relationship with her husband?”
Harriet propped her chin on his chest, not quite able to believe what she was hearing. “You wish to discuss Lady P? Here?”
“What about Saunders? Do you think he holds undue influence over her?”
“Ben?”
He fanned his fingers through her hair, spreading it over her shoulder and onto his torso. “We had another quarrel at the vicarage. I said some things I probably shouldn’t have.” He went on to explain what happened that morning, all the way up to the carriage accident. “She’s very contradictory, don’t you think? Very proper and proud, yet also timid and unsure of what she wants for herself. It’s almost as if the rigidness is a mask to hide something. So, I wondered about her relationships with the two of them, her husband and her brother.”
Would there ever be a day when he wouldn’t surprise her? She never would have thought he’d see past his dislike of Penelope to consider her situation and her history.
“Her marriage to the third viscount was not one of companionship and affection like mine and Edward’s.”
He didn’t even so much as flinch at her husband’s name, which impressed her again.
“I thought as much.”
“As for Saunders, they seem much alike to me. She follows his every lead.”
“Yes, but why? For a woman who likes to share her opinion, she doesn’t whenever he’s around.”
Harriet poked him in the side. “Says the man who also likes to share his opinions.”
“I think she’s under duress, Hattie. I don’t know what kind, but I think something is afoot there.”
This half-naked man was really here beside her, talking about—no, concerned about—her mother-in-law. Whom he’d hated just a day ago. Harriet shivered, overcome with an extremely unsettling feeling. He was coalescing into someone she could admire. Only the feeling had so many more layers than admiration. Layers she didn’t want to think about, didn’t want to feel. This was an affair. It could only be that.
Enough of this talking. She skimmed her fingers across the muscles of his abdomen, dipping them beneath the band of his pantaloons.
He reached down, snatched her hand, and pressed it to his chest. “Do you not see what I mean? About Lady P?”
Had she just been rebuffed? Harriet pulled herself up on one elbow. “If I promise to think about it tomorrow, will you let it lie for now?”
Shoving an arm behind his head so his eyes were on a level with hers, he sighed. “Very well. I would love to hear your thoughts. Perhaps after lessons tomorrow. Oh!” He levered up, almost smacking her in the nose. “You will not believe what happened in the nursery.”
He described Kitty and Lucy’s game, Elizabeth’s questions about her grandmother, his hasty exit owing to William’s presence, and how Elizabeth had come after him.
“Wouldn’t you know it?” he said with a shake of his head. “She was right, as she almost always is. She gets that annoying trait from you, by the way. Anyway, the run back to the inn did clear my head. It was almost as if all my thoughts rattled around up there and then settled into a less chaotic state.” He collapsed against the pillow. “I want to thank you, Hattie, for sharing your daughters with me. I never regret spending a minute of my time with them. They are just delightful. Nearly per—”
Harriet slapped a hand over his mouth. “Stop talking.” That admiration was about to transition to some stronger emotion, one that bubbled within her, rising, rising, rising like a teakettle ready to steam and whistle. Every word about Penelope, Elizabeth, Kitty, and Lucy added to the pressure until she was near to bursting. Whatever this was, she didn’t want it to see the light of day. Or the dark of night as the case might be.
She threw her leg over him, straddling him, and bent to replace her hand with her lips. Whatever she was feeling, she poured it out as desire, kissing him hard, unfastening his pantaloons, taking him in her hand, stroking. Within minutes, they were both breathless and frenzied, joined together in a wild dance. Atop him, she couldn’t escape his eyes, those dense green forests that drew her in, offered shelter, tendered affection, granted acceptance. It was too, too much.
She draped herself over his chest and pulled on his arm, convincing him to roll them over. From there, she only had to whisper a few choice commands in his ear and then he was pumping into her, driving them both toward an explosive conclusion.
