Page 16 of The Baroness of Sin
“You did exactly what I asked you to do. And I liked it.” Her breaths were coming in hot, shallow gasps, and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She pulled his hand back to her and placed her lips softly to his fingertips, kissing them.
They both were enraptured in the passion and pleasure of the moment when they were suddenly startled. The grandfather clock in the library chimed the hour, the tolls slow and heavy, in stark contrast to the flight of both of their pulses. One, two, three, they both counted in their heads until the clock struck nine.
“It's late,” James said with extreme reluctance.
“My sister and the servants have retired. We will not be disturbed.” Martha was unsure who she was trying to convince, him or her. Still, she didn’t want the night to end here, not this way. She pressed her form to him, almost desperate for his touch. Her chest heaved as she panted hot needful breaths, her heart slamming against the restraint of her corset.
James looked hesitant again. His hands raised once more, so close she could feel the heat and pleasure his touched promised. At the last moment, though, he shook his head.
“As opportune as this may be, My Lady, unfortunately I know my daughter waits for me. She needs her father to come home before she can go to bed, and the longer I am gone, the worse it is for Miss Blake, who I am sure Amanda is causing no small amount of trouble for already.” As he spoke, he gently released her from his grip. His fingers brushed against her as his hands pull away. His reluctance gave her an odd mixture of pride and comfort.
She reached out and grasped his hands in hers. She held them tightly, and he squeezed her hands reassuringly.
“I don’t want the night to end,” she admitted. What she couldn’t say was how much he had excited her, tantalized her. She was almost angry at him for stopping now, but she knew that it wasn’t right for her to hold that against him.
“Nor I,” he offered in return. “My Lady, I must ask something of you tonight, to affirm something for my own sake and conscience, if you will.” He took a hesitant breath. “I enjoy your company, I truly do. But I loved once, and I do not think I can ever love again. I know we have discussed some of our circumstances, but I must know if you truly understand this. If you wish for our relationship to become something more romantic or marital, then we should go no further. Let us end it when there are no ill words or feelings or regrets that we must live with.”
Martha had a choice to make, and it was one of the few with true consequences. The world of love is often broken down into black and white, right and wrong, but this is one of life's great jests. There is no more complicated circumstance than love. To look into the face of the man who held her heart in his hand and tell him the last thing either of them wanted to hear was simply not possible. He might as well have asked the lady to turn lead into gold or fly to the moon. No intelligence known to humankind could peer into Martha’s soul, know its truth, and judge her wrongly for the choice she made in that desperate moment.
Unfortunately for Martha, the human soul is one of the only things more complicated than love, and hers was determined to keep some secrets even from her.
“Of course, I understand, Lord Barristen. Like I said,” she smiled and led him, first out the library and then towards the entryway, “we have been deprived of caring and considerate company, both of us. We seek it out, as natural. But remarriage is rarely a natural thing. I know you do not seek it out, and I don’t seek it out either.” Something twinged inside her, and she ignored it. “I am just happy to have you in my company,” she said with a perfectly natural and engaging smile.
James had to ignore his own disappointment and accepted the exchange for the better. “Thank you for understanding, My Lady. I, too, am eager to continue our relationship as it stands.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing, “Might I speak openly with you, My Lady?”
“I feel if we have anything, it is a candid stance on communication,” she laughed lightly.
“Well, Amanda’s mother, my late wife, she and I had a complicated relationship. We had grown up knowing one another, and we certainly liked each other, but when we it came to marriage, neither of us could say we were terribly interested in that course. Certainly, her parents were more determined, but I faced my fair share of stern encouragement as well. So, we married one another.” James gave a moment for this to process this before continuing. “The reason for my hesitation is that that comfortable acceptance... it became love. I loved without knowing it at first. That, despite my best efforts, love came and then was torn for me. So, if I seem a bit vigilant, that is the reason. I do not want to have something that cannot be held firm, that can be taken from me fickly. I do not want to fall in love again.”
“How was your wife taken from you?” Martha asked, her voice thick with emotion.
“A fire. We were traveling with Amanda, only a baby then, and Lady Barristen and she were sleeping at an inn when the room caught fire.” He chocked before going on, “I could only save Amanda.” The Earl took a deep breath and tried to discretely wipe his face. “I apologize, My Lady, I did not mean to turn the evening conversation to a topic so dire.”
Martha gently shook her head. “Life has been cruel to both of us in its own way. If you can’t talk to me about it, then who else?” She smiled sadly. “I have no interests other than what I have stated, and, in the extremely unlikely event that my feelings change, you will be the first to know,” she said taking his hand in hers and offering a warm smile.
James appreciated the reassurance. He still felt as if he had brought the evening to a poor closing after it started so strongly. Before he could give his proper good evenings and goodbyes, Martha glanced around to make sure they were alone, then she leaned in close. James was taken aback, only partially relieved when she whispered to him instead of doing what he had presumed she would do.
Her breath was hot against his ear, her voice alluring, a stark contrast to the comforting voice of before but not an unwanted one. “Worry not. I want you just as you are, My Lord. You have not deterred the fire in me. We will have another chance.” Her hand delicately drew along the crotch of his trousers, her fingertips just barely feeling the heat and form of his body, but it was enough to make her effect on him visible after the fact.
With her voice still hopping around in his brain like a hive of honeybees, James didn’t realize that he was already outside the house in the dark. By the time he processed the words she had spoken, she was long gone.
The words made him tingle with excitement and, ever so briefly, regret his decision in calling an end to the very pleasant evening.
James was in for an uncomfortable walk home, as her words still tingled in his ear.
Chapter Thirteen
Father and daughter sat on opposite ends of the table where they ate their breakfast. Eggs and rolls with marmalade for Amanda, and bacon, toast, and coffee for the Lord. Miss Blake sat nearby, eating her own breakfast of warmed oats while she waited for Amanda. Even though Amanda ate with gusto, it did not deter her from assailing her father with questions about dinner with her dear friend Lady Carrington.
She had done the same the night before, only her father had gently chided her that it was past time she went to bed and assured her that he would tell her in the morning. As Lord Barristen sipped at his coffee, he regretted not answering her questions when she was much more tired.
“Papa, what did you eat? Was it good? Did you bring me back any? What did she wear? Was it pretty? Was it prettier than the dresses I own?” On and on the questions came, as if his daughter had no need for rest and simply saved the energy she didn’t use for talking. Normally James would not be bothered in the least; in fact, he was probably a good part responsible for her voracious curiosity, but this morning the circumstances were different.
Miss Blake tried again and again to curtail the young lady’s onslaught, to the point that the governess was becoming clearly irritated, her voice becoming stern. Before she had the chance to lose her temper, Lord Barristen held up a hand so that he could speak, which preempted Miss Blake and silenced his daughter.
“Dear one, I understand why you want to know all of the answers at once, but if you could pace your questions out, it would be much easier for you to hear the answers,” the Earl remarked to his daughter glibly.
“Papa!” Amanda cried, “Why won’t you tell me?!”
