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“Then take me,” she said. “I shall hold you to nothing. I swear it.”
17
Thomas led Tricia back through the servants’ quarters. A few servants passed them, but she had been a member of the peerage long enough to know that while servants would gossip, they would never betray their employer.
She had nothing to fear from them.
When she walked into Thomas’s chamber, her mouth fell agape.
They entered a large and opulent sitting room, its high ceilings adorned with intricate plasterwork and golden frescoes that caught the soft light filtering in through draped, floor-to-ceiling windows. The furniture was of the finest mahogany, upholstered in rich dark-brown velvet.
A massive fireplace, its mantle carved with scenes of hunting and harvest, dominated one wall. Though the fire was unlit, the room still felt warm, the thick walls insulating against the cooler March air outside. Above the mantle hung a portrait of Thomas’s late father, an exceedingly handsome though stern-looking man clad in the regalia of his rank.
Tricia moved through the sitting room toward a library, her footsteps muffled by the thick Persian rug underfoot. The walls were lined with bookshelves that reached to the ceiling, filled with leather-bound tomes on subjects ranging from classical literature to modern agricultural techniques. Didn’t the estate have another library? This personal library of Thomas’s held more than anyone could possibly read in a lifetime.
Patricia’s heartbeat began to accelerate as her eyes fell on the bedchamber, which was adjacent to the sitting room. Her gaze stayed fixed on Thomas’s four-poster bed, where he would likely be relieving her of her maidenhead in a moment. On the small table near his bed sat a gorgeous vase adorned with intricate light-blue floral patterns.
“Oh,” she said, reaching out lightly but not touching it. “That is simply breathtaking.”
“It’s from the Ming dynasty,” Thomas said. “It’s priceless.”
She quickly drew her hand away and then peeked into the dressing room to see an array of Thomas’s clothing, from formal tailcoats to riding outfits, all impeccably maintained and arranged by type and color.
This was so much larger than Cameron’s suite of rooms on the Thornton estate. Of course, she hadn’t seen her grandfather’s suite of rooms on the neighboring Denbigh estate.
Tricia hardly had time to take it all in before Thomas claimed her mouth once more.
He twirled his tongue with hers, and her nipples protruded against her corset, straining to be free.
What might it feel like to have his mouth on them? Would his lips close around one, much like she lightly pinched them when she lay alone in bed at night?
Almost as quickly, Thomas broke the kiss. “Are you sure about this?”
“Good God, Thomas, how many times must I repeat myself? Yes, I am sure. I want this experience. And I want it with you.”
Thomas groaned.
Then he turned her around and began with her skirt. He meticulously undid the fastenings, carefully ensuring that each was opened without causing damage to the fabric.
Clearly he had done this before. But Tricia only wished he could go faster.
“I want you,” he said, his voice low and raspy. “I’d rip these off of you if I could.”
“Please, don’t. That would leave me a lot of explaining to do not only to my maid, Trudy, but also to my mother.”
“I shan’t put you in that position.”
Once the skirt was loosened, he removed it, and then he removed her petticoats, untying them and pinning them.
She stood in her bloomers and corset then. Thomas started at the top of the corset, loosening the laces and ensuring the tension was evenly released. Then he helped her out of the bodice of her dress.
He turned her around, and she was wearing only her chemise.
A sheer chemise, and he could see her bare breasts. The triangle of black hair between her legs.
Thomas could see it all.
And Tricia’s body burst into flames.
