A Stolen Season (15 page)

“Are you playing me?”

“No.” Sarah near choked on the lie. She bit her lip and wondered what she could say to make the situation better. But there was nothing she could say. Their relationship had been doomed from the beginning.

With no other option open to her, Sarah leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. She could not say how amusing she found him, how wonderful to be around. How much she loved him. But she could show him.

She met his lips again, and he kissed her back, pulling her into his embrace. Sarah wrapped her arms about his shoulders and allowed this firestorm of desire to ignite. His hands clasped her hips and he rocked her into his heat, spiraling desire through her blood.

Eric broke the kiss and suckled her neck, kissing his way down her body. Sarah cursed her restrictive riding gown. She wanted to feel him, allow him to taste and kiss wherever he chose.

Growling, Eric rolled them over, and Sarah found herself pinned beneath him on the ground. She moaned as his hand cupped her breast. His finger and thumb found her sensitive peak and rolled the bud between his fingers. Sarah shut her eyes and reveled in the touch. His lips teased her flesh at the opening of her gown. Sarah arched herself into his touch, her need so strong it physically hurt.

Eric’s hot and hard desire for her pushed into her thigh, and Sarah wiggled against his member. Her body yearned for him to take her. He only need ask, and she’d allow him her soul. She lifted her leg and their heat joined where it ached most. Eric’s deep throaty moan incinerated any concerns she had about sleeping with him. They were both past the point of no return.

His hand cupped her bottom and pulled at her undergarments. Sarah lifted her arse and a moment later felt the grass and ground against her skin.

Eric kissed her — a demanding, conquering kiss — and Sarah slid her hand down between them and touched him …

He sucked in a startled gasp and pushed into her hand. Sarah untied his front falls and stroked the silky, soft skin against her palm.

“Sarah, I won’t take you on the ground. You deserve better.”

Sarah opened her eyes and met his gaze. She pulled him down for a reassuring kiss. “You will, because if you don’t, I think I’ll die.”

He laughed. “In all seriousness, I cannot take you here.”

Sarah wiggled beneath him to rub her heat against his and smiled at the pained expression which formed on his visage. “Please, Eric. Don’t be cruel.”

He growled and sat up. Clutching his coat he shoved it beneath her bottom. Sarah bit her lip as his gaze froze at her apex. She supposed she may look a little different down there than he was used to. He looked at her and frowned.

Sarah laughed. “It’s the latest fashion in Europe, Eric.”

He came over her and positioned himself at her core. “I like it,” he said.

Sarah lifted her knees and wrapped her feet about his thighs. Oh, she burned for him, wanted him to fill the void in her soul.

And with one thrust, he did.

Mine. The word chanted over and over in Eric’s mind. A mind now hazy with need, desire, and love. All of it mixed around to create a new and intoxicatingly addictive experience.

He thrust deep within her core and lights blazed behind his eyes. Sex with a woman had never been so consuming or satisfying. He rocked into her, clasping her arse to heighten the feeling. A voice cautioned him to be gentle, take her slowly, yet he could not. She met his every stroke with one of her own, and broke his control.

Eric took a deep, calming breath. He wanted to please her, make her first experience with a man something she would never forget for the rest of her life. A life he was going to share with her. Days and nights stretched endlessly before him, filled with lovemaking, children … a marriage.

He gentled his touch and kissed her. Showed her how much he loved and adored her. With the fire they shared, how could she not agree to marry him? With every touch her gentle hands bestowed, with every kiss her lips granted, her love shone through more than words could ever say.

A beacon of light he desperately wanted to reach.

She loved him.

Eric moaned when her hands clasped his backside and pulled him into her — a fast learner, his future wife. Her husky moan joined his and in an instant his restraint vanished. He wanted to hear that sound again. Wanted her to enjoy him as much as he enjoyed her.

“Eric … ”

He quickened his pace and gave her what she wanted. What he wanted. It was madness. Family and staff often used this meadow for outings; they could be caught at any moment. But he could not stop. For weeks the desire to have her had burned in his soul. For weeks he’d fantasized about her. Wondering what it would be like to seal his fate with her.

And now he had, and he would never look back. “I love you,” he whispered against her ear and nibbled her lobe.

Sarah moaned again and clutched at his back, her nails scoring into his skin. “Eric, don’t stop.”

Eric continued on and pushed her until he felt the first tremor against his flesh. She writhed beneath him as he continued his relentless ride. He wanted her to scream, call out his name, and declare she was his and only his.

And Sarah came apart. He had never won a sweeter victory. Her delicious response pulled him into his own release, and he allowed himself to topple over into the void of completeness.

He would freefall forever.

• • •

Sarah stared as if in a trance at the knobby branches of the tree above. Its leaves were unmoving and silent like herself. Wow. She’d never had sex like that. She inwardly cringed at the word sex. It had been anything but sex. They’d worshipped each other’s body, shown without words what they felt for one another.

Love.

Sarah chuckled as he rolled off her, drawing a deep breath. They must look a sight. Eric lay with his eyes closed, his breathing still rapid. She touched his chest and came to lie across it. “You look thoroughly kissed, my lord.”

Eric stroked her hair. “You look thoroughly ruined, Miss Baxter.”

Sarah smiled. “That was wonderful. When can we do it again?”

He grinned impishly. “Not today. I fear if I touch you again, you’ll certainly not look fit to be seen.”

“You look a little disheveled yourself,” she said, kissing his jaw, his neck, and then his chest, the fine hairs tickling her lips.

“Sarah … ”

“Hmmm?”

“Behave,” he growled.

Sarah puffed out an annoyed breath. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying.”

Eric chuckled and kissed her. The sweet embrace fired their hunger once more. “Damn your appearance. Come here,” he said.

Sarah laughed and tried to pull away. “No, you’re right. We better not. The day is getting on, and you have guests arriving.”

“I don’t care. It is much better fun here, alone.”

“I know it is, but we’ve already been gone for some time. I would hate to be caught in such a scandalous way.” Sarah pushed a lock of Eric’s hair from his brow and marveled at his handsome features. “Truly, Eric, we should leave.”

With a resigned sigh, Eric looked up at the sky and nodded. “Very well.” He pulled her to her feet and Sarah refused the little voice telling her to throw him onto the ground and have her way with him again, to hell with wrong and right.

Instead, she righted her riding gown and spun her hair back into the few pins she could find. She looked about for her undergarments and hastily slid them on. Eric watched her, his eyes heated and intense, and Sarah fought not to blush.

“Ready?” Eric kissed her one last time before they folded up the blanket and packed away the picnic. He left the basket back beside the rock and gathered the horses before helping her to mount.

They rode through open fields among low sweeping hills. Sarah could see the River Darent winding north through the valley before her, slowly making its way toward the Thames and eventually out to sea.

“How long has your family had the earldom?” she asked, even though she already knew the answer. She had to hear the sound of his voice.

“Since Queen Elizabeth’s reign. Not all that long I suppose in terms of history, but we have been lucky enough to pass the title down through the family from father to son, never having to use any other branch of our lineage.”

“So I imagine your family is quite keen to see you settled, wanting such a tradition to continue.” Sarah glanced over at him and noted the frown before he masked it.

“Of course, but I will be the first earl to pick his own wife.”

Eric looked at her and a knowing twinkle sparkled in his eye. Sarah looked away, unable to hold his gaze over his terrible choice in wives. Her.

“All previous marriages were arranged due to social stature or fortune. Recently I have come to realize that I would like an all together different union.”

Sarah refused to react to his words and instead looked at the distant chimney tops she assumed were from Eric’s home. He adored her. Loved her. Wanted to marry her. The all too familiar feeling of guilt assailed her, and she fought not to blurt the truth and let him have at it. Or her, as it were.

“That is just as it should be, Eric.” Sarah said, her voice buoyant despite the pain stabbing into her chest. She cleared her throat to remove the lump lodged there. “How large is your property? I gather from your mention of tenant houses that this is a working farm.”

“Just over one thousand acres. We farm mostly crops of various kinds, along with deer and sheep. My tenants reside just out of Westerham. I’ll take you to the home farms one day.” As if they were truly engaged.

Eric led her toward the eastern side of the property, an aspect she hadn’t seen before. From here she could see how the home nestled in a valley, a haven for the earls of Earnston for hundreds of years. Nothing had prepared her for seeing it in its entirety from this distance, under glorious sunshine and through crystal-clear air. Sarah sucked in a breath of awe at the vision before her.

“This vantage on the house always takes my breath away. Do you like it, Sarah?” Eric asked.

Like it? She loved it. It was hard to fathom a home so grand could belong to just one man. “It’s amazing, Eric.” She smiled over to him.

Pride filled his eyes. “Come, there’s more to see yet.”

Late that afternoon they arrived back at the estate just as a travelling carriage was being unloaded before the front doors. Sarah dismounted and handed her mount to a waiting stable lad and followed Eric into the home.

“My lord, your grandmother, the dowager countess has arrived and has requested to see you. She is having tea in her private sitting room.”

Eric laughed. “She’s early.” He met Sarah’s gaze and she read the love he held for his grandparent. “We will join her directly,” he said to the footman.

They walked into the sun-warmed room, which was furnished with light colored upholstered settees and chairs. Eric’s grandmother sat before an unlit hearth, fiercely concentrating over the delicate needlework in her hands.

“My grandmother is in residence most of the year. Her trips to Bath are fleeting and only if the weather is congenial. She believes the waters are advantageous to her health and well being,” Eric whispered leading Sarah toward the dowager.

“Miss Sarah Baxter, may I present my grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Earnston.”

Sarah curtsied and smiled. “I am very happy to meet you, Lady Earnston.”

His grandmother stood and bustled toward them. “I’m sure the pleasure is all mine, Miss Baxter. Now, come sit and Eric, my dear, you may go and occupy yourself for a little while. It want to get to know Miss Baxter over some tea and cake.”

Eric laughed. “I do have some correspondence waiting for me. I will return shortly, Miss Baxter. And Grandmamma?”

“Yes, dear?” her ladyship asked.

“Please ensure my guest is welcomed properly into the family.”

The dowager Countess shooed Eric from the room. Now left with a matron of the ton, Sarah steeled herself for the ordeal.

The dowager’s sharp intellect didn’t miss the veiled meaning behind Eric’s words, and it was clear she picked up on the currents that ran between Sarah and her grandson.

Her ladyship rang for tea, and then seated herself beside Sarah, sighing as she did so.

“Miss Baxter, first and foremost, may I call you Sarah?”

“Of course, my lady.” Sarah dare not refuse her ladyship anything.

“Very good. Now tell me, my dear, how did you come to meet my lovely grandson?”

The image of the lifeless Lord William flashed before her eyes and she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. She probably shouldn’t start with the very beginning.

“I met his lordship in London through my friendship with Lady Anita.”

Her ladyship smiled. “Oh, Anita, such a lovely girl. Now none of this ‘my lady’ business, please. I have never been high-in-the-instep. You must call me Lady Rose.”

“Thank you, Lady Rose, that is very kind.” Sarah relaxed somewhat at the comforting gesture.

“I must say I’m delighted Eric is taking such an interest in you. We have been waiting an age for him to form an attachment.”

Sarah coughed. “I’m merely visiting due to Lady Anita’s betrothal to Lord Kentum. I’m sure his lordship is simply being polite with showing me around.” Sarah hoped the heat she felt on her face wasn’t physically there.

Lady Rose’s knowing twinkle in her eye said louder than words that she saw through Sarah’s patter.

“I know my grandchild and if I were a gambler, I would lay odds in your favor. I believe he is in love with you. Eric is certainly not the type of gentleman to lead any young woman astray.” Lady Rose paused as the tea tray arrived and was placed before them.

Sarah sat in silence, her mind a whir of conflicting emotions.

Lady Rose poured the tea and offered a cup. “I think, Sarah, that Eric will ask for your hand in marriage.”

Sarah choked on her sip. She placed her cup down and tried to pull herself together. Embarrassment swamped her as Lady Rose patted her back.

“Oh, my dear, are you alright?”

Sarah nodded, not sure it was quite safe enough to answer the question. Her eyes watered, blurring the room until it resembled a watercolor painting.