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Hugh closed the door, but never took his dark piercing eyes from her. She personified invitation, her parted lips seeming to beg to be kissed. God knew he wanted to take possession of her lips, of all of her. Now. Immediately. His breath shortened, his body reacted.
Sarah stepped back blindly. Putting a distance between them the only way not to follow inappropriate impulses. Her heart beat furiously; she felt unable to catch her breath. Her mouth dried. She moistened her lips.
The sight of her tongue on her lips almost too much. He would not be capable to resist. Not possible, even if he became strong as Beowulf himself. He stepped forward. A hunch burned in him. This woman, his woman. His woman, no matter what that bloody society dictated! She belonged to him. Only him and he wanted her.
He tried to make clear thought prevail. He swallowed a dry gulp. “There has been a…disclosure, so to say.” His low hoarse voice gave him in.
She lowered her gaze. It did not seem so bad as having him tired of her. “I see.”
The two most regrettable words he had ever heard.
“You’re safe.” And he hoped it remained this way. As long as Adelaide did not know of her identity.
She snapped a nod and continued over-interested in the floor. “My lord is so beautiful that looking at him will be enough.” Her cheeks became charmingly pink.
A shadow of a smile appeared in his utterly handsome face, as she tentatively glanced at him, enchanted.
“You’re free to look.” His piercing stare bored into her very depths.
“If my lord excuses me.” Her stare turned downwards again as she curtsied.
He stepped slightly aside. She walked by him, very close. He could smell the washing soap on her body. A flow of memories surfaced on his mind, reflecting on his body. In a second she had gone.
His big, capable hands held the breakfast table, head fallen down. Frustration, disappointment, defeat; a myriad of emotions too unfamiliar for him to know where they came from.
“You seem to have come back to your senses.” Adelaide’s haughty voice sounded in the closed carriage.
They drove to the ball that the Duchess of Ellsworth, Adelaide’s mother, threw tonight. His aristocratic wife dressed a magnificent ball gown that brought out all her blond beauty. The fortune she wore in jewels gleamed in the street lamps, filtering through the carriage windows.
“Don’t I?” He responded rather ironically, as anger threatened to choke him. It had been several days since he met Sarah in the morning room. She kept out of his way, he gathered. The frustration of not being able to go to her cast him in a foul mood. The time spent at sports or at the club did not pane out. The notion of fulfilling marital duties veritably disgusted him.
Now he had another social function to attend to. He started falling in a pit of boredom, frustration and vexation. This situation doing him no good, his very soul thorn in pieces.
Hugh did his duty. He danced with Adelaide, with her mother and other ladies. And he drank. He talked to the gentlemen, he took Adelaide on his arm to the dining room. And he drank. He went for cigars and cognac. And he drank. He entered in the card room. And he still drank. By the time they decided to leave he felt as if he walked in an ethylic cloud.
Back in the carriage, Adelaide looked reproaching at him. “A little too much to drink, haven’t we?” Her cold voice beginning to get to him.
“And what am I supposed to do?” His voice slurry, his shoulders floating from one side to the other. “Enjoy the iceberg I have for a wife?”
At this Adelaide looked at him with contempt. She remained silent, as wives should, though. It had had been a surprise that he had stopped his…indiscretions. Lords usually went about their numerous indiscretions, whether their wives liked it or not. She just looked at her hands folded on her skirts and the trip continued in silence.
Tomorrow would be Sarah’s day off. She looked forward to having some rest. Being Sunday, most of her colleagues would attend church. But she had decided to go away for the day. The effort of avoiding Lord Hawkmore, combined with the need to forget him became too straining. So she’d try to go for a walk out in the country surrounding the city. A good long walk would clear her mind and provide an ideal distraction She readied her things for the short trip and went to sleep.
Even though her days resulted tiresome, sleep had been elusive. She would fall asleep after tossing and turning for hours and wake up tired and spiritless. But she managed to perform her duties, at least. A short trip to the country around London would do her good.
Sarah had just fallen asleep when she heard her door open. She did not need any light to know who it WAS. The smell of alcohol hit her. He swayed in the room, his hair dishevelled, his shirt half open, cravat in a loosen knot, askew.
“Sarah.” His slurry voice called her with a hopeless note. “Sarah, I can’t stay away from you anymore!” He neared the bed and stumbled into it. He fell on the hard mattress with a thud. She hoped nobody had heard it.
Quickly she stood up and closed the door that he left open and went back to bed. He seemed in a pitiful state. The dim street light, coming from outside, left no doubt about it. She pulled the cravat from his neck, finished unbuttoning his shirt and loosened his trousers. His hands roamed her chemise in the process. Silently, she set his shoes by the cot.
He pulled her to him breathing a strong smell of cognac. “I cannot, Sarah. I cannot!” He kept uttering inarticulately.
She embraced him on the bed, sprinkling butterfly kisses over his face. “I know. I know.” She murmured, as she caressed his arms for comfort.
“Oh, Sarah!” He held her tighter and rolled on the bed to cover her. He kissed her all over in broken movements.
Her hands caressed his sleek hair, just as he undid hers. He immersed his face in her hair, smelled it and brought her closer. “The smell of you! So adorable.” He caressed the side of her body. “How I missed it!”
