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“Perhaps later,” Trent insisted.
“I’m afraid not,” Sam reiterated firmly.
This seemed to make the Londoner certain in his suspicion for a smug smirk came to his bloated face. “I bid you good-night, in that case.” Naturally Trent did not bow before taking his leave, Harriet not being a lady of society.
A sigh escaped Harriet as the hand on his arm gripped him trembling. “Harriet, what happened?” His large hand covered hers, squeezing it.
“I—nothing, don’t worry,” she turned a brittle smile at him. “You were a resounding success,” pride exuded from every syllable.
“It would not have been without your invaluable help,” he thanked her.
“I do it with joy,” her smile more genuine this time.
“You belong in scientific circles, not just in the background.” Even with the flourishing research taking place around him, it seemed that real advancement came slowly regarding the inclusion of women in every sphere of life.
“I wish I could,” she said wistfully. “I take great satisfaction in science.”
They made the rest of the way in companionable silence, relishing the spring twilight.
After supper was cleared and Mrs Marsh announced she would retire, tension returned. One that embroiled so many elements Harriet would be barely able to list them. The conversation during Sam’s lecture had shaken her more than she would like to admit. It reminded her how happy she had been with her position as a governess with a family that received her so kindly in their midst.
It also made her apprehensive for her future, when the professor’s children would not need her services anymore. Made her realise how alone she was in a world that offered few opportunities for women other than marriage or the other less well-regarded positions. She did not blame mistresses or lightskirts, they were simply the victims of that lack of choices. Since she came to Oxford, she had been saving her wages as best as she could, which would grant something to live on in between positions.
In her case, marriage proved ineffectual and not a source of safety as society led—or misled—her to believe. Trying it once more was out of question for her. Independence and living by her own means seemed the most reliable choice. But that would not shove away the Trents of the world. Her integrity would be endangered at every turn, forecasting the need to stay alert at all times.
Amidst this fretting, she stood from the table. And heard the other chair move too. Samuel. The second element embroiled in her tension. She never felt so attracted by a man as she was to him. These last months had been a battle against the steamy desire he awoke in her. It had simmered to an unbearable point and now it was bursting at the seams, and she became nearly without will to fight it any longer.
The little moments with him simply induce
d more yearning. She really did not know if she wanted to resist. He beckoned her with warmth, respect and a high regard she never saw in another man. Made her feel cherished. He made her feel that was the crucial point.
“I think I’ll call it a day,” she said and turned to the door. She had better not tempt destiny.
A large hand closed softly on her wrist. “Harriet,” the silky call caused her head to swing to him.
Still in his refined suit, he stood there tall, his hair gleaming with reddish strands in the candle light. His eyes bore intensety behind his spectacles. She never imagined that she would consider spectacles charming. Most people viewed them as a sign of flaw. But on him, they looked serious, smart. And so penetrating.
The fixed stare he directed at Harriet induced thrills to run all over her. Heat surfaced on her skin, air became scarce as he held her in thrall. Next moment, he had pulled her to him, his hands on each of her nether cheeks, drawing her close, so close to his hardness.
“I cannot hold this any longer,” the hoarse admission caused a veritable flash wave of moisture to crash between her legs.
The hungry way her eyes fairly gobbled him was becoming familiar to Sam. So familiar he had no choice but to bring her flush against him amid her clear desire imploring to be set free. His jaw lowered to connect with her satiny neck. It dragged down charged with white-hot thirst. He captured that vein leaping under her skin, sucked it, nibbled on it until he heard her gasp and registered that her arms had tied him with an inevitability that resonated with his own.
“Neither can I,” she finally answered before pressing her breasts to his chest.
At this, his mouth fused with hers in a kiss so full of feverishness they might set fire to the whole town. One hand held her nape, the other laced her waist as he bent to take more. Every time he kissed her, touched her, something expanded in him, not only the obvious physical response, something else in the region of his chest. It felt special, unique, as though he had found himself.
They came up for air, and he framed her cheeks, taking in her swollen lips, flushed face and the eyes that clasped with his. “I want you in a way I never thought I’d want any woman in my life,” he rasped.
Forget he did not have a mother. Forget the void it opened in him. Forget his duties as an heir. His origins, his native Gaelic. Forget everything because the only thing that mattered was this, and her, what she engendered in him. And how he wished to weld the both of them in sensual delectation as he had been dreaming of for years on end.
“Take me to my chamber, Samuel,” a more beautiful line he had not heard ever in his life.
He opened the dining room, took her in his arms and strode to their destination. On the way, she undid his tie, the top buttons of his waistcoat, tried to sneak her hand in his shirt. Her other hand raked his hair, as eager for him as he was for her.
Inside her chamber, he put her on her feet, where she proceeded to undress him. He followed suit. As she got rid of his shirt, a gasp filled the air. Her cool palms strolled over his frame bathed in the fire from the fireplace. His proportional shoulders, the lean chest, the dusky nipples, elegant abs. He bore too little body hair for his taste, but she seemed not to mind.
Blonde head lifted to him, mouth ajar, hair falling loose. “You’re so handsome!” her breathed words made him confident.
