Chapter Nine

 

Her climax was so complete that it was long seconds before she realized that he was simply holding her up, keeping her afloat and waiting for her to return to reason.

His cock was still rock hard inside of her and an unmistakable sign that she’d raced ahead. Her eyes fluttered open and a new anxiety overtook her.

Oh, god. I’m not sure I can survive that again…not…so soon…

“Phillip. Don’t move. I…need a moment.”

He laughed softly and shook his head. “Oh, how familiar are those words?”

“D-did I not sweetly agree and sit still?”

He withdrew a few inches and drove into her. “Not even close.”

She surrendered to it, a soft inescapable cascade as every thrust of his body changed her equilibrium until it was all she could do to close her eyes, arch her back and ride each wave of wanton heat that rewarded her with another and another. Water sloshed around them both, but they paid no attention outside of the grip of her body and the press of his need.

Phillip’s hips jerked with a spasm as his release came, and Serena cried out as she helplessly followed suit, echoing his climax as the heat of his crème flooded her sensitive core. She arched her back and tasted pure feminine power to draw his essence into her body and know that he was hers to rule.

It was like coming home.

Slowly, they disengaged to kneel facing each other in the bath. Their breath was audibly rough from the exercise but neither was so winded that they couldn’t laugh from the after effects of passion.

“I’m not sure why I ever…thought…it was possible to converse with a woman in a bathtub.” Phillip shook his head, as if to clear it, then his brow furrowed. “Is that…is there scented oil in this water?”

“Jasmine. Like it?”

He smiled with a defeated chuckle. “Let’s hope my valet is discreet enough not to ask.”

“Phillip. You have to go.” She playfully splashed water at him to soften the dismissal. “Pepper will be back at any moment.”

“Understood.” He stood from the water, treating to her to a breathtaking vision of masculine beauty as rivulets of water slid down his body. Even sated, the size of his manhood made her channel clench in appreciation and hunger. There was a raw primal appeal to every texture and line of him, and Serena openly surveyed him with delight. She loved the dark trail of the hair on his chest the narrow shape of his hips, the broad planes of his chest and carved muscular shift of his thighs as he stepped out of the bath. There was not an inch of him that did not add to a blooming heat inside of her and Serena forced her fingers to grip the tub a little tighter to keep from reaching for him again.

He used the towel and dried off to dress as best he could. Damp clothes clung to his frame and he shook his head slowly. “We may have gotten more water out of the bath than we kept in, Lady Wellcott.”

She shrugged. “I’ll tell Pepper I slipped and may have splashed a bit.”

“A bit?” He gave her a wry grin. “I think I see water drops on the windows over there.”

“Are you attempting to convince me not to do this again, Sir Warrick?”

He gathered his boots and stockings up and straightened his shoulders, composing his features into an expression worthy of a butler. “Not at all, madam. I shall leave you to your…bath and see you at dinner, Lady Wellcott.”

“Yes. Until tonight. As punishing vengeance goes, Sir Warrick, I’d say this episode is unfolding very nicely.”

He smiled and retreated, unlocking the door and surveying the hallway before slipping out.

Serena began to giggle and deliberately slid under the water’s surface to keep him from hearing her. The bath had cooled but not enough to temper the fever rebuilding inside of her. She stood to retrieve her towel and climbed out as carefully as she could, wincing at the tender ache between her thighs.

The war between love and hate had become an epic expressed in passion. God how she had craved this! Her pride had yielded to the demands of her body although Serena eyed her reflection with a wary study as she sat at her vanity.

Could she enjoy him without risking her heart? Could she hold herself away from the tangle of her emotions and simply take what pleasure he offered her?

Was that a kind of revenge in and of itself? To prove to him that he was nothing more than a passing distraction to wile away the quiet of the country?

She narrowed her eyes and leaned into the mirror.

You’re playing with fire, Raven Wells.

She pushed back with a wicked defiant smile. It had been seven years since she’d felt the blaze of his touch and the subject did not bear up under mental study. She picked up a hair brush to smooth out her curls.

What difference does it make? Am I not a free woman to take what pleasures I can? And if Phillip Warrick is tamed and brought to heel in the process, then who am I to complain?

Pepper sat at the long table downstairs in the servants dining hall. As with many houses, this room was the hub of all gossip and news for the family above. The servants were the engine that was never seen but without their labors, life above stairs would grind to a miserable halt. Pepper liked the pride in their eyes for the beauty of the house, and listened carefully as their conversations skirted around Mr. Osborne in all things. The housekeeper reminded them of Mrs. Osborne’s flower club meetings in the village or chided the cook to be sure to include Mrs. Osborne’s favorite dessert after Dell revealed that her lady was melancholy.

“I’m to trouble you for small snippets of fabric from Lady Wellcott’s gowns,” Dell said softly. “My mistress desires to copy her fashions as closely as possible.”

Pepper smiled. “Lady Wellcott has asked me to do one better. I am to sketch out the patterns, if you wish.”

“Oh! How generous!”

“Easy enough,” Pepper said. “I am no great seamstress but I can lay out a pattern from one viewing of a gown.”

“It is a talent I envy,” Dell sighed.

“I made some butter cakes,” Mrs. Byrd, the cook, interrupted as she set a large platter of warm cakes onto the table. “Megan set them too far back in the oven and so the edges are too dark to take upstairs but still tasty.”

Megan was a kitchen maid and her cheeks blazed pink. “Sorry, Mrs. Byrd.”

“There, there! We all have a day.” Mrs. Byrd sighed.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Watson, joined them. “Be sure to leave one or two for Mr. Clayborne or there’ll be hell to pay! I’ve never known a man to favor butter cakes like our Mr. Clayborne.”

The butler was the general they respected but also the man they fondly watched over. The under butler was a man named Baker who clearly carried the weight that an aging Mr. Clayborne no longer could. The transition would inevitably come but from what Pepper could see, Mr. Baker was not pushing to seize the helm. They were a rare coalition marred only by the actions of their master.

Dell shyly took a butter cake and Pepper followed suit. The cakes were delicious and Pepper wondered if the cook hadn’t used some flimsy excuse to share with the hardworking staff. None of the little bites looked burnt to her eyes and the smiles across the table over the treat confirmed it.

“What do you have there, Miss Pepper?” one of the maid’s asked.

Pepper held up one of the pretty heeled shoes from her lap. “I’m sewing new bows on my lady’s shoes. One was lost and I am taking this chance while she bathes to ensure that they match her newest gown for tonight.”

“Shall I send up maids with more hot water, Miss Wellcott?” the housekeeper asked addressing her by her mistress’ name as was the custom.

Pepper shook her head. “There’s no need. It was scalding to start and I know better. My mistress prefers her privacy and will not thank me for the attention.”

The housekeeper nodded her approval. “A good lady’s maid is always attuned to her mistress. The best never need to hear the bell before they are on their feet.”

The cook laughed. “You say these things so solemnly I almost believe them, Mrs. Watson!”

The banter came in easy rounds until the bows were fixed and Pepper started to rise to take the shoes back up.

“Oh, please wait!” Dell urged her.

“Yes, pardon Miss Wellcott. But…wait until your mistress rings for you or let one of us walk up with you.” Sally chimed in.

Dell lowered her voice. “Daws is up to help Mr. Osborne change. Wait until the master’s come down, then you can go.”

Pepper kept her seat. “As you say.”

“The footmen are nearly done setting out the dinner service and one of them can walk you up as well,” Megan said.

“Seems a lot of trouble just to carry up a pair of shoes,” Pepper said, aware of all the subtle looks around the room. “May I have a word with you privately, Mrs. Watson?”

“Of course.” She guided Pepper to her small office next to the storage room and Pepper passed her the small elegant note that Lady Wellcott had prepared. “This. My lady asks you to read it and do what you can. It would serve Mrs. Osborne but also every woman in this house, Mrs. Watson. You need not answer today, but if you agree, please let me know by some word.”

Mrs. Watson took the folded paper, openly curious and intrigued. “I shall read it eagerly to see what it says.”

Pepper curtsied and began to retreat as the bell in Lady Wellcott’s bedroom jangled on the board. “I should attend my lady. If you’ll excuse me.”

Mrs. Watson nodded her assent and Pepper hurried up the stairs, confident that everyone below stairs would gladly play their part in whatever the game required in the days ahead.

 

She reached the safety of Serena’s bedroom with relief and quickly set about her duties. But something in the way her lady was already sitting at the vanity and brushing out her hair, the ruin of the bedding and signs that when she’d exited the bath, Serena had made no effort to spare the floors—all of it caught Pepper’s attention. Water had sloshed everywhere and Pepper knelt to recover the carpets and wooden polished planks then leaned back on her ankles to study her mistress.

“What?”

Pepper’s gaze narrowed. “You look rather prim over there, Lady Wellcott.”

“Do I?” Serena answered without looking at her. “The bath was very…refreshing.”

Pepper stood with a smile, all the pieces falling into place. “Oh, yes! Nothing restores a woman like a long, hot, delicious…soak.”

Serena turned on her chair quickly, her eyes sparkling. “Pepper!”

“I’ve got the gold all pressed and I’ll hang it here, on the screen, my lady.” Pepper was all business, merrily preparing for the next change. It was her secret belief that no matter what her friend said, she had never let go of her affection for Sir Warrick. “My goodness! I’d better see to this. We wouldn’t want anyone to think you’d been wrestling alligators this afternoon.”

“Pepper.”

Pepper finished drying the floor and then danced to press her weight against the towel to tamp up what moisture she could from the carpets, then risked a playful glance at Serena. “Oh, did you wish to take a nap? Perhaps to rest after the rigors of washing?”

“Oh, stop it, Prudence!” Serena blushed. “You are not nearly as clever as you think you are.”

Pepper said little but began to help her dress, making note of the subtle marks on Serena’s body that betrayed all. Serena’s entire visage was calmer and even younger, as if she’d tasted an elixir that had lightened her spirit.

Pepper took the brush from the table and began to braid and tame Serena’s black tresses, adding the gold combs with a skilled hand.

I’m clever enough to know when you’re happy, Raven Wells.