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Chapter Twenty-Two
The day was darkening into late afternoon. Patricia was still sitting at the window in the drawing room gazing out upon the stables. She had been here for hours. For some reason, she was fixated with them, staring at the carriage.
Jackson still hadn’t come home.
She had barely eaten all day. Sally had come in at one point carrying a tea tray, insisting that she take a bite of something.
“You will wear yourself away, your Grace,” the maid had admonished her, her eyebrows knotted. “Worry does no good. He will be home in his own good time. He is a grown man after all, and he used to be a soldier. His Grace can take care of himself.” She hesitated. “I am sorry about what you heard in the kitchen. Please believe me, we are all loyal to you and His Grace. Those maids are just young and silly, that is all.”
Patricia smiled slightly. “Thank you, Sally. It is a comfort to hear it.”
The maid had left. Patricia had returned to her brooding. Jackson had been deeply in his cups. He had lurched off into the night. He had been alone.
He was vulnerable.
Her eyelids started to droop. It had been an emotionally draining day, even though she had just been sitting for most of it. Her hand slipped on the curtain and she closed her eyes, drifting away, thinking of Jackson…
She was walking to the stables. The carriage had arrived. He was home. At last.
She saw him standing there, his back to her. So tall and strong. So handsome. His raven black hair slicked back. Slowly he turned towards her, those green eyes pinning her to the spot.
She couldn’t breathe.
Slowly, he walked towards her. And then he pushed her against the stable wall, running his hands over her body. He didn’t say a word. He simply stared at her, his eyes hungry with lust.
“I want you so much,” he whispered into her ear. “I cannot wait for you. You are so very beautiful…”
His hands drifted over her again, hungrily squeezing her. She felt the heat of his arousal pressing against her. Tiny, fluttering sensations were blossoming to life within her belly, radiating outwards. Before she knew it, it had turned into a hot lava of fire inside her entering her bloodstream. She wanted him.
He pulled down the bodice of her gown, seeking a nipple, and pulled it into his mouth. Leisurely, he suckled, his tongue licking and swirling around the hard peak. She felt a hot wetness seep out of her, and desperately she grasped his head, pulling it closer, revelling in the sweet sensation. She no longer cared where they were. She didn’t care if the whole world was watching them.
She wanted him. And she wanted him now. It was like a fever within her.
She cried out in ecstasy as he pulled up her gown, her legs exposed. And then he entered her, swiftly and fiercely. The incredible sensation of him entering her flesh again. She sagged against him, trembling with need. Slowly, he started to move within her.
She was traveling again towards that sweet pinnacle, being swept away on that tidal wave of desire. She couldn’t bear it. How had she ever lived without knowing this ecstasy? How had she ever lived without him?
She tilted her head back against the stable wall, panting fiercely. She was so very close; as much as she pushed towards the height of her desire, she also pushed away from it. She never wanted this to end. She wanted him inside her body, moving like this forever. Could they simply remain frozen in time?
His eyes were on her face, darkened with desire. She saw her own need reflected within those depths. She saw that she was the only one for him.
“Yes,” she whispered, over and over, sobbing with her need. “Oh, yes, my love. Yes, yes, yes…”
She woke up with a start, her heart pounding. Gordon, the butler, was standing over her.
“I am sorry to wake you, your Grace,” he said slowly.
She jumped to her feet. “Is it His Grace? Is he home?”
The butler shook his head. “I am afraid not, your Grace.” He paused. “But you have a visitor. Lady Hunter.”
Patricia’s jaw dropped. Why was her mother making an unexpected house call at this hour? She could see through the window that it was already dusk. The sky had turned a dark indigo and all the candles had been lit inside.
She took a deep breath and tried to gather her wits. Her mind was still foggy with sleep and that bewilderingly beautiful dream.
“Tell her to come in,” she said, straightening her gown.
Lady Hunter entered the room. She was as pale as a sheet. She rushed straight to Patricia, taking her hands. Patricia felt a deep sense of foreboding as she gazed into her mother’s eyes.
