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Deana woke earlier than usual but felt she had slept deeply. She opened her eyes and found herself alone. She had been somewhat aware of his leaving her bed in the middle of the night but had been too tired to pay much attention. As she stretched, memories of last night flooded her immediately. His lordship had untied her bindings with a tenderness that contrasted with the sharpness of his discipline. From her vanity he had retrieved and applied a pomade to the marks on her sensitive breasts. She cupped an orb and felt a tug between her legs. She trailed a hand there, remembering how delightful his attentions had been. She rolled her clitoris between her fingers, amazed at how quickly her arousal had flamed. Would she always find herself in such a heightened state while at the Chateau or in the company of Lord Rockwell?
And then he had returned and taken her at last. She felt satisfied at the soreness between her legs. She had begun to wonder why he had not entered her before. How marvelous it had felt when he did! With her previous lovers, she had not always spent. With Lord Rockwell, she had attained those delightful paroxysms without fail.
With thoughts of his lordship, she fondled herself until she spent. Despite the release, she felt hungry for more. Rather, she felt hungry for him. Throwing back the covers, she decided to start the morning and attempt a normalcy in spite of the setting. She had survived one day and needed to last two more. She rang for Bhadra and went to the wash basin to refresh herself.
Bhadra appeared with a breakfast tray in hand. Deana marveled at the luxury. She supposed she might as well enjoy it for she was not likely to experience it again.
“Is his lordship awake?” Deana asked as she selected a simple muslin for the morning.
“I believe him to be on the veranda overlooking the garden. He asked that I inform him when you are ready to receive his company.”
“He is not to make a habit of entering unannounced?” Deana could not help herself and saw Bhadra suppress a grin. “A man of his station can take great liberties with impunity.”
“But he is a good man.”
Having spoken, perhaps more than intended, Bhadra quickly busied herself with items of the toilette. Deana understood Bha
dra’s quick defense of Rockwell and did not press the maid.
After dressing and finishing her breakfast, Deana went downstairs in search of Rockwell. As Bhadra had indicated, his lordship was on the veranda. He sat at a table with quill in hand, his brow furrowed in thought. Treading lightly, she had the opportunity to admire him without his notice. He had allowed his hair to grow since their appointment of a year ago. Today it had a wind-swept appearance and she was tempted to run her fingers through it.
He looked up and the lines about his face eased. “Good morning, Miss, ahem, Sherwood.”
She smiled. “Good morning. I see that you are occupied. Let me not disturb you.”
“Stay.” He gestured to the teapot and cups upon the table. “Coffee or tea?”
She joined him at the table and saw he was composing a letter. It began “Dearest Lucy.”
As if seeing the subject of her gaze, he said, “My sister. She is my junior of nearly ten years and I her guardian.”
Recalling his look of concern earlier, she said, “I hope all is well with her?”
“Yes,” he replied unconvincingly.
“Forgive my prying, but you seem troubled, my lord.”
“She is a willful young woman.”
He shook his head but there was love in his words.
“Better willful than meek,” Deana said.
“That remains to be seen.”
“You would rather she relent to others without question or consideration of self?”
“Where I am concerned, yes. I have her best interests at heart. I have written as much, but I have the sinking suspicion she will pay little heed.”
He rose and cast the letter aside.
“I know a little of willful young women. May I?”
He hesitated at first, but then retrieved the letter for her. Though unfinished, the letter clearly indicated that Lucille had taken a fancy to someone the Baron disapproved of.
“Your tone is didactic and scolding,” she commented after reading.
