Page 51 of An Earl's Christmas Seduction
“Oh, my poor nerves,” Mrs. Bennett said, laughing nervously as the atmosphere grew tense and expectant.
The guests gathered around the hearth, and Amelia took a place in the far corner, hidden in the shadows. The thought of hearing a ghost story excited her, even though she felt a little nervous at the prospect. The old house, standing in its lonely position on the cliff tops, was surely a place where ghosts may well be found.
“Listen now,” Lord Thornton said, settling himself down in the chair by the hearth.
His face was lit by the glowing embers and the solitary candle flickering on the mantelpiece.
“I’d much rather be singin’ a song,” the viscount said.
“Oh, be quiet. Let Lord Thornton tell the story,” Isobel said, and the others said the same.
“It’s a lonely road that crosses the moor between Bodmin and the Inn at Penton.” Lord Thornton began.
He was a natural storyteller, much to Amelia’s surprise. His reserve now giving way to vivid descriptions and terrifying images. Amelia shuddered as the tale progressed, glad to be in the company of the others, though fearing she would find it hard to sleep that night in the dark.
“How horrible,” Mrs. Bennett whispered, then shrieked as Lord Thornton described the final horrors of the haunting.
“And when they found him it was as though he’d come face to face with the devil himself. His face was deadly white, his eyes wide and staring, his hands trembling. From that day on, he never spoke again, except once a year, at the nearest full moon, when the sound of the beast was heard again on the moor, calling for its next victim to come forth,” Lord Thornton concluded.
Another shiver ran down Amelia’s spine, and there were calls for Lord Thornton to tell another story. Fresh logs were put on the fire, but the candles around the room remained unlit, and Lord Thornton sat back in his chair, pondering for a moment, before raising his finger and smiling.
“Do you have something for us, Lord Thornton?” Nicholas asked.
To Amelia’s surprise, she found him standing behind her in the shadows, the rest of the room still in darkness, save for the flicker of the flames in the hearth, and the candle still burning on the mantelpiece.
“I do, yes, but I warn you, it’s not for the faint of heart,” he said, appearing to warm again to the possibility of scaring them.
A collective shiver ran around the room, but it seemed even the viscount had discovered the pleasure of the Christmas ghost story, and the rest of the company now encouraged Lord Thornton to tell it.
“Do tell us, Lord Thornton,” Lady Turner said, and Lord Thornton nodded.
“Very well. The clock chimed the midnight hour, awaking the sister from her slumber. The convent was quiet, but the sounding of the final toll, a terrible sound rang out through the corridors…someone was dying…” he began, pausing as Mrs. Bennett drew in a sharp intake of breath.
Amelia was kneeling in the shadows. She knew the earl was behind her, his outline visible at her side. Lord Thornton’s tale was continuing, the residents of the convent subjected to all manner of wickedness at the hands of their ghostly visitors.
But after a particularly terrifying incident had been recounted, Amelia drew a sharp intake of breath. Not because she was scared, but because she had felt a hand reach below her skirts. It lingered for a moment on the bare flesh of her ankle, tracing a trail along her leg.
“What happens next, Lord Thornton? Those poor sisters,” Mrs. Bennett exclaimed, and the others shushed her.
Nicholas’ touch became firmer, his progress more determined. He moved forward a little, his hand now on her thigh. Isobel and Harry were in front of them, but the rest of the company was so intent on Lord Thornton’s words, they were not aware of anything untoward taking placing in the shadows. Amelia bit her lip, shifting a little, opening her legs as Nicholas’ hand found its way to her pleasure.
“They’d barricaded the doors to the chapel, several of the sisters kneeling in prayer before the altar, where the sanctuary lamp was suddenly extinguished, plunging them into ever greater darkness. “Save us,” they cried, but locks and barricades were no use against the spirits now, so intent on doing battle for their souls,” Lord Thornton continued.
But Amelia was no longer listening, caught up in the pleasure of Nicholas’ touch. He knew just how to pleasure her, his fingers easing gently over her, filling her with that now familiar warmth and pleasure.
She shifted a little, longing for more, and now she reached her hand back, running it over the stiffness in his breeches. Did he dare expose himself to her touch? She pulled at his belt, the slight clink of the metal causing her to pause, even as her arousal was absolute.
“Oh, how dreadful,” Mrs. Bennett exclaimed, as Lord Thornton recounted further terrible details of the unfortunate sisters in their convent.
Nicholas’ hand now took hold of Amelia’s, pressing her touch against his stiffness, his other hand still deep in her skirts, pleasuring her with such intensity as to make her want to cry out in ecstasy.
“And on Christmas Day, when the bells of the convent failed to ring out, the local people hurried to the church, and there they found… nothing, for the sisters were gone, and nothing was left…” Lord Thornton said, sitting back in his chair with a sigh.
The others applauded, but as they did so, Nicholas’ touch became even more intense, driving Amelia to the heights of pleasure. She could not help herself, and she let out a scream, causing Isobel to startle, turning to look as the others did the same. Nicholas’ hand was swiftly withdrawn, and Amelia could only be grateful for the shadows, the look on her face concealed in the darkness.
“Wasn’t it horrible,” Isobel said, and Amelia smiled.
“Oh… I rather enjoyed it. I quite like being scared,” she said, as Lord Thornton rose to his feet.
