Page 20 of Joy to the Earl

“Oh. I know you help people, but with what exactly? And how do you do it?”

“I provide a sanctuary for couples who are experiencing discord in the bedchamber. Some are fearful. Some cannot reach climax, or secretly want something other than what they are getting. Together we talk about matters, try to pinpoint why, and how it might be better.”

Jack nodded slowly, watching her impromptu bath. “I see. Is it always a different reason?”

“No,” she said with a sigh. “Very often it is because men and women just don’t talk to each other with great clarity. Or perhaps they do speak, but with no depth. It seems the higher you go in society, the less true conversation there is. Do you know, I once met with an earl and his countess? Normally I won’t see earls—I cannot stand peers—but the countess came to me personally in London to ask. The two of them had barely spoken in years, and try as they might, couldn’t conceive an heir.”

“Did you help them?”

Rosalind grinned as she selected a fresh chemise, stays, and gown from her armoire. “As it turned out, his lordship had a particular fascination with ancient history, was proficient with a whip, and liked leather. I assisted her ladyship in acquiring an Amazonian warrior costume, we discussed the kinds of bedsport she might be willing to try, and well, let’s just say I sent them a christening gift the following year.”

He burst out laughing. “I’m not surprised you succeeded. You have the kindest heart and the sharpest of wits. I bet you’ve never failed.”

This time it was her turn to blush. “Ha! I wish that were true with the Vales. They are my most puzzling and difficult case yet.”

“Well then. You’d best go see to them. I’m sure there are more steps or window frames for me to repair.”

After Jack played lady’s maid once again, Rosalind made her way to the kitchens for tea, and toasted bread with honey, then settled herself in the yellow parlor to wait. Not long afterward Phillip and Claire arrived, looking rather drawn and heavy-eyed, but happy.

“Good morning,” said Rosalind, hiding a smile.

“It is!” said Claire, beaming. “Oh, I know Lady Kilburne was very naughty to leave that powder in the kitchens, but I still want to hug her.”

“Really?”

“Phillip let me touch his cock!”

The man shifted in his chair, one hand tugging his cravat. “Claire.”

“She is here to help us, Phillip. We must share everything. As I was saying, he let me touch his cock, and kiss it. Then I told him that I would like my nipples suckled, and to be stroked between my legs, and he did it! It was marvelous. I reached climax twice.”

Rosalind nodded approvingly. “And how did you find the evening, Phillip?”

He smiled shyly. “Most enjoyable. When Claire cried out, I thought I’d hurt her…but then she kissed me over and over and became rather demanding…”

“I rode him the second time,” said his wife proudly. “Like the stallion he is.”

“Claire. But I must confess, Lady Nelson, I did not realize how pleasant touching was. Hugging and smoothing hair and so forth. My wife comes from a family who are very demonstrative. They do those things, and share every meal together, even with little ones. My mother deigned to see me for five minutes each morning. My father used his belt if I didn’t meet his expectations. Affection was…frowned upon.”

“Go on,” said Rosalind softly, trying to conceal her shock at the longest and most frank statement Phillip had ever uttered. “This is excellent, truly.”

“I began spending more and more time at the warehouses. Learning the ropes, so to speak. It was so much better than being at home. The owner took a shine to me, but I didn’t realize how highly he esteemed me until he passed, and I learned he’d left me bequest in his will. I had enough money to purchase my first warehouse, and I did so. The rest is history, although I nearly lost everything earlier this year.”

Claire stamped her foot. “Phillip only told me what happened last night. All the times I thought he’d found himself a mistress…he was really at the docks, trying to save the business from bankruptcy. That is why he didn’t want us to have a child, because he was afraid of being in the poorhouse. And it all happened because of one evil man!”

“Who?” said Rosalind, leaning forward in her chair.

Phillip sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I never believed in the justice of time until I came to Nelson Manor and witnessed the death of the man who tried to ruin me: the Earl of Lynthorpe.”

She gasped. “Jack’s employer?”

“The very one. Oh, he and his vile lawyer Crawley never showed their faces in my warehouses—clerks would bring letters from one or the other. I refused to sell them a parcel of land I inherited, you see. After that, mysterious fires were lit. Tools were stolen. Several of my best employees lured away to competitors by fair means and foul. I didn’t think I could hate anyone, but those two…”

“I will spit on Lynthorpe’s grave for what he did,” said Claire fiercely. “Damned peers, and they get away with murder too.”

Rosalind stilled as pain sliced through her. “You don’t need to tell me about the actions of lords like Lynthorpe. Men such as him drove my father to his death. They ruined him, as they tried to ruin you, Phillip. The bluebloods simply cannot tolerate hardworking, self-made men. Ack. I cannot believe I sent a note of sympathy to the family.”

“You weren’t to know,” said Phillip, shrugging. “But I will rest easier knowing that when we return to London, my path ahead has been cleared. When are you planning to go back? And may I say again, I would hire Reynolds in an instant if he, er, accompanied you.”