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The girl was looking at her with interest. There was boldness, even dislike in those enormous green eyes of hers. Sybil felt like shouting, Yes, look around you! Look all you like! You think you’re the one who’s been hard done by through my husband’s philandering?

Instead she merely inclined her head, saying softly, “I should like to be informed of its progress...Miss Laurence.”

Humphry hadn’t even dared use her real name. Hazlett!

When she overheard Mary and Betty whispering in the cold room that Mrs. Hazlett had been seen in town disguised beneath a heavy veil and with her belly nearly as large as her brazenness, Sybil had to swallow down her rage and use every ounce of her inconsistent willpower to remain silent.

* * * * *

Stephen intercepted Sybil near the wall of the vegetable garden. She looked upset. One of the maids was scraping out a saucepan of gruel for the chickens so he beckoned her to follow him a short distance away and out of sight.

Although he had no claim on her, rage burned within him.

Roughly, he asked, “Tell me—” but she cut him off and her look was so sorrowful it took all his willpower not to seize her to his chest and be damned with the danger of exposure.

“Humphry was inebriated.” She turned her head away. “Nothing happened.” Changing the subject, she added, “Humphry’s ‘other’ daughter has just visited.”

He assumed a sympathetic expression but was overjoyed at the knowledge that Humphry hadn’t laid a finger on her. “Sybil, your husband has sired three side-slips with another woman. You owe him nothing. Certainly not your loyalty.” With a

surreptitious look over his shoulder, he ran his hands quickly over her curves. God, he loved her body. He couldn’t wait to have her naked and all his again. “Come into the beech wood with me.”

She shook her head. “Do not forget I am lady of the manor. I have a great deal to organize before tomorrow.”

“If you’re worried about conceiving I’ve already shown—”

“Stephen...no!” She sounded stricken.

“You didn’t enjoy last night? You want nothing more to do with me?” Now he was

the one stricken.

“Stephen, I’m consumed by you,” she whispered, gripping the lapels of his coat. “It terrifies me but our arrangement was because my husband could not sire an heir on me. If his enthusiasm to at least try has returned I’m in no position to refuse him.” A look of utter desolation crossed her face. “And... I cannot be sharing my bed with two men. I just can’t.”

Jealousy speared him. “You may already be with child,” he reminded her.

She closed her eyes. “Or I may not. Oh Stephen.” Her voice hitched. “I’m duty- bound to my husband.”

“You owe him nothing after the way he’s treated you.” He knew the defense was lame. That the law was on Lord Partington’s side and Sybil spoke the truth. But he couldn’t accept that he was losing her so soon.

At the sound of servants approaching, Sybil put out her hand to squeeze his shoulder as if that might comfort him. “I hate it as much as you,” she said. “However we must part now. I fear for you in case suspicion is even raised.”

“For me?” He gripped her wrists and put his lips to her palms, even though the voices were getting close. “Do not worry about the risks I take. I’m wild for you, Sybil,” he whispered between kisses. “I’d take any risk to be with you. We have two nights to be together. Let me be with you one more time? Please, my love?”

Closing her eyes, she wilted against him. “We dare not, Stephen. The risks are too great and...and...”

Miserably he finished for her, “And your husband has first claim on you.” He took a deep breath and tilted up her chin. He couldn’t believe this was the end. It was too soon. “Sybil, after I go away, regardless of whether you are with child, will you have me back? Can I see you again?” He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I need you.” He looked at her helplessly. “Sybil, you make me the best I’ve ever been.”

* * * * *

Sybil stared at his departing back, barely attending to the scullery maid’s greeting. Her heart, which had weighed her down so heavy just moments before, was lighter though sorrow lurked in its depths.

For the first time in her life she felt like more than just a woman fulfilling her prescribed role.

For the first time in her life she felt truly loved.

Chapter Eleven

Humphry had made some veiled remarks alluding to his reasons for inviting the unknown Sir Archie and Lady Julia to the Grange. Something about “putting the boot on the other foot”.

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