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15: Next morning
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Promised to the father, married to the son 16: Awkward breakfast
*Ben* When she had awoken with that soft moan, it had taken everything within me not to pounce on the bed and take her then and there. It didn't matter that my face was lathered in showing foam or that she had distracted me to such an extent that I very nearly sliced open his jugular. I can think of worse ways to go than with that luscious sound ringing in my ears. How can a woman be so gloriously sensual upon awakening ? Standing at the window in the library, watching as the fog begins to dissipate, I have to admit that I don’t have any paperwork I need to see to. I just wanted to give her time to bathe and perhaps join me for breakfast. I could have also delayed going to the mines, but being within reach of her without touching her would have tested my sanity. While she had offered herself during the day, we made a bargain I intend to keep. The day is hers; the night is mine. One exception would place us on a slippery slope, and she might decide I shouldn’t have all the nights
Promised to the father, married to the son 17: Testing his restraint
*Skye* I have to take such care in answering his questions that it is trying beyond measure. There has never been a husband. I am not a widow. But there had been a love, what I thought was a grand love. What a fool I had been. I am not going to make the mistake of falling in love again. He has no interest in it and neither do I. Which should have made us perfect for each other. Instead it serves to tie my stomach into knots. I could have compelled the old man into caring for me. I do not stand a chance of doing that with his obstinate son. Yet I feel this insane urge to be as honest as I can with him. If he ever discovers the full truth, he will at least see that I had limited my deception as much as I was able to. Of course, if he discovers the full truth, it would all be moot, as he is likely to kill me anyway. Put those strong hands of his about my neck and choke the very life from me. But I can’t worry about the future. I have to concentrate on the present. And presently he is
Promised to the father, married to the son 18: Her special place
*Skye* With my money nestled in my pocket, I spent half an hour in the library looking over the books, striving to find something to read, to occupy my time. But it isn’t the assortment of literature I want to explore. It is the residence itself, even if it is nothing more than a series of Locked doors. Except that the locks have keys. I make my way down to the kitchens and find Mrs. Barney rocking in a chair in her office, sipping a cup of tea. “Mrs. Barney”. I say. The older woman’s eyes widened, and she shoves herself to her feet, her bones creaking along the way. “Mrs Archer”. “Mrs. Barney, I would like to borrow your keys for a spell”. I say. Much as she had the day before the housekeeper slaps her hand against the large ring. “They’re my responsibility”. “Yes, I know. And I will return them before the day is done”. I promise. She shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Mrs Archer, but I can’t give them to you”. “Oh, I believe you can”. I say. Seriously living in this house is almo
Promised to the father, married to the son 19: Spiders and boots
*Ben* It is late afternoon by the time I, covered in sweat and grime, stride into the kitchen. I don’t know why I believe that if I work in the mines alongside the miners that fortune is more likely to smile on them and they will discover a tin-rich vein after two years of nothing. It had made the men uncomfortable when I first began digging beside them. I am their boss, the CEO of the company, born into the rich upper class. It had taken them a while to accept my help, my determination. But I enjoy stretching my muscles, pushing myself to the limit of near physical exhaustion. It keeps my mind from traveling the path of despair. Today it has kept me from breaking my promise to my wife that the day belongs to her. I shouldn’t have kissed her before I walked out, because her taste stayed with me far too long, it kept my body tense and in need until I went down into the pits where there is always a danger that I will not come out. So perhaps my father has the right of it. I really
Promised to the father, married to the son 20: Showing his trust
*Skye* As he escorts me from the room, I am a bit surprised … based upon the way his eyes had darkened as he had rubbed my chin … that he hadn’t tossed me on a nearby sofa and pulled up my skirt. Once outside, I lock the door, already dreading the encounter I will have with Mrs. Barney regarding the keys in the morning. I am going to reclaim the room whether Ben likes it or not. When he isn’t around, I will entertain myself by playing the piano. I understand it is his house and his rules, but some rules are in need of breaking. Carrying on down the hallway, I become very aware of my uneven gait, my slipper whispering along the floor, his boot clomping. “How are you managing to keep my boot on ?” He asks. “I stuffed newspaper into the toe and around the sides, filling up the space around my foot. A trick I learned from my mother, who always bought our shoes a bit large so we could grow into them and they would last longer”. I explain. He looks surprised. “Our shoes ? You had sib
Promised to the father, married to the son 21: Teasing him
*Ben* She is going to drive me mad. i am fairly certain of it as I sip my scotch, staring out the window of the library into the darkness, and wait for her arrival. After hauling up the tub and water, I had been incredibly tempted to lounge against the wall and watch as she removed her clothes, as she stepped into the bath, as she dribbled water over her skin. But if I had stayed, I doubt that she would get so much as her tiniest toe wet before I had her on her back. I yearn for her with a fierceness I do not want to acknowledge. Never before has any woman affected me as she does. So I had walked out simply to prove … more to myself than to her … that I could. I never would have expected to find Sky on her hands and knees cleaning. Granted, Mrs. Barneyis no spring chicken and her efforts yesterday with the parlor had been sadly lacking, but she had made the room habitable. And she is the housekeeper. It is her job to keep the house. But Sky has begun seeing to the things herself,
Promised to the father, married to the son 22: An interesting dinner
*Skye* Montie had been attracted to me, and had wanted me. He had made that clear the evening he introduced himself at a charity event. But he never looked at me with the smoldering intensity thatZ ac does. While he sits across from me, several feet away, I am acutely aware of the desire thrumming off him as the wine is poured. Although desire seems too tame a word. He had wanted to spread me out on the desk and have his way with me. I had seen it in his eyes. I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted that he managed to keep his urges under control. I would be smart not to taunt him so brazenly, not to give the impression that I am somewhat of a wanton, but I need the marriage consummated before the sun rises again. It is the only way to ensure this arrangement can’t be easily undone, is the only way to guarantee a measure of protection should Montie discover where I am hiding. I had been careful, never using my name during my trip here, never using the main system of tra
Promised to the father, married to the son 23: Their goodnights
*Ben* She licks the pudding from her spoon, slowly, provocatively, all the while making little moaning sounds that cause me to harden, my skin to tighten and my breath to hitch. I have no doubt that she knows precisely how much she is tormenting me and is taking delight in doing so. I want to throttle her. I want to kiss every inch of her. I want to laugh, a large boisterous guffaw that will echo through every corner of the manor. I can’t remember a time when I had enjoyed a woman so much … and I have yet to enjoy her fully. My own pudding remains untouched. “Perhaps you would care to finish my dessert too”. I offer when she finally sets her spoon aside. “Don’t you like pudding ?” She asks. “I don’t have much fondness for sweets, which must be why I like you. You’re so tart”. I tell her. Surprise washes over her features. “You like me ?” Had I said that ? Damn it all to hell, I had. Without thinking of the repercussions or how she might interpret the words. That she might find
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