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Chapter Nine
Before Lydia came down to the stables, Michael had run through his plan for their outing repeatedly. He had asked the cook for a picnic lunch, who was more than accommodating with a selection of bread, cold meats, cheeses, and pastries.
More importantly, he had chosen a mild-mannered, easy to ride horse for them to ride together. Normally, he would have chosen his stallion, a high-spirited animal that he liked to press for speed while hunting. However, given Lydia’s inexperience, he didn’t want to scare her.
By the time he got to the stable with the picnic, he wondered why he was agonizing over the details. He had trouble admitting to himself that he wanted Lydia to enjoy their adventure, that he wanted to entertain her.
When she arrived, wide-eyed and terrified of the docile animal he had chosen, he wanted to laugh, but found he could not. He only wanted to make her feel safe in his arms.
Moreover, despite his promise to behave with her, he realized that he really, really did not want to. Feeling her soft body against his, lit him on fire. Having her rump between his thighs made him shift uncomfortably, hoping that she did not feel his desire pressing into her backside. He wanted to let his arm ride up to feel her soft breasts.
Each time he touched her, or each time she touched him, he wanted nothing more than to draw her to the ground and ravage her.
Once he had spread the blanket on the ground, asking, “Will you join me, my lady?” he almost regretted his whole plan.
She looked at him, wide-eyed and expressionless, for far longer than he wanted, as though she was offended by his boldness. He could tell she was thinking the same thing that he was, that they would be lying next to each other closer than they had ever been before.
“I promise,” he assured her, though he was deeply worried that it was going to end up as a lie.
“Do not promise anything that you do not intend to keep,” she scolded him, a coy smile forming on her lips. She stepped forward, sinking down to sit on the blanket. She reached up to take his hand, drawing him down to sit next to her.
“Should I hope that perhaps you say that because you do not wish me to make that promise?”
“No, no,” she laughed. “That would be terribly improper of me.”
“So, I need to convince you to say what you are thinking, truly, instead what you think is polite and appropriate.”
“Why would you wish me to do that?” she asked, teasingly.
The smile that played on her lips was devilish, anything except the demure girl he thought she would be. He breathed a long breath, turning to the bag of food he had brought. Distracting himself, he pushed aside the feelings of lust for her by unpacking the contents.
“Ah, yes, one of my favorite wines,” he marveled, pulling out the bottle and two glasses. Uncorking the bottle, he poured a glass for each of them. He raised his to hers saying, “Cheers.”
“To what occasion are we drinking?” she asked, then took a long sip from her glass.
“To new friendships,” he said, smiling at her. She grinned back at him, her eyes dancing with merriment. He could not say the last time he saw something as beautiful as her happiness.
She turned back toward the view, drinking it in, allowing him the opportunity for him to study her, in turn.
“How do you feel, looking out at all this, knowing that it’s yours?” she asked, wonder in her voice.
“Hmm?” he asked, reaching out to stroke her cheek. She turned, seeing him watching her.
“I meant the estate,” she clarified.
“Oh, that,” he laughed, turning to look out over the view. “I suppose I’ve gotten used to it, or that I’ve always been used to it. My mother and I used to come up here when I was a boy.”
They lapsed into silence, listening to the wind in the grass. Memories of playing on the hill with Joseph came to mind, how they would laugh and shout, even though all mother wanted to do was relax in peace. Looking back to Lydia, thinking of how he desired her, he thought of their conversation the day before.
“Tell me, why did you not want to marry?”
She looked to him, surprised.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You said that no one ever felt right. You did not want to marry just anyone. To me, that sounded like you didn’t want to marry.”
“That’s not what I meant at all,” she rushed.
