Lynette Vinet - Emerald Trilogy 02 by Emerald Enchantment
Authors: Emerald Enchantment
Tags: Romance
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flickered, growing dim. “It will happen again. I want you, and you belong to me now.”
Beth clutched at his arm. “I’ve never done this with another man. I couldn’t do this with any other man but you. I love you, Howard.” She lowered her eyes, appalled at her audacity in calling him by his Christian name, but she couldn’t help herself.
Her long hair streamed like waves across her breasts, and she looked so lovely that Howard wished to keep her with him forever. He felt uneasy at her admission of love, but after all, she was only an Irish serving girl and he was her better. Certainly she loved him. What harm would be done by trifling with her? So there was no harm in saying he loved her, too, which he promptly did. The words of love gained him Beth’s kisses and the delights of her body for the rest of the night. When morning dawned, before he sent her on her way, Howard easily told her that he loved her, and for the first time in his life he began to believe he meant the words.
5
There was something unsettling about Paul Flanders, something Cecelia couldn’t pin down but unsettling enough to prevent further sleep. An early morning haze enveloped the room though the drapes were pulled, allowing her to see the objects in her room as she sat up in bed and plumped the pillows.
It was a lovely room in its way, even if it had belonged to her brother’s low-born Irish wife. 0f course Cecelia had changed certain things when she moved in after the girl’s departure all those years ago, but the ancient tapestry depicting a stag hunt still hung on the far wall and had belonged to the original owners of the Hall.
Her mind drifted back to the day she had confronted Avery’s widow, the day the girl confirmed her pregnancy and declared she would keep the estate as her own. A small smile curved upwards on Cecelia’s usually solemn face. She had thwarted that plan by stealing the property right from under the unsuspecting girl’s nose. It wasn’t hard since Avery’s wife wasn’t versed in law and didn’t want her child to grow up bearing the stigma of bastard. But there was no way Cecelia would allow the young and not-so-grieving widow to take what she most desired. And hadn’t she been magnanimous to the girl after all? She had even placed funds for the child with a London solicitor.
“How clever you were, Cecelia,” she spoke aloud and patted the bed covers in self approval. Then she sighed in exasperation because something about Paul Flanders still nagged at her. She was positive he wanted her money, and her property. Why else would he wish to court Allison? No one really knew anything about him, but Cecelia didn’t need to know the details since she had already surmised his motives. But why did he want Fairfax Manor so ardently? There was just something in his face, his eyes, his tone of voice when he was in the house—almost as if he caressed it and already loved it…
She threw the covers back and got out of bed, pulling open the drapes to find the morning misty with just a peep of sun illuminating the horizon. The fields were barely visible, but she didn’t have to see them; she knew how they looked by heart. It always surprised her how much she loved this place, how much she had loved it even before it was hers. But now that she did own it, no one was going to take it from her, certainly not some young bounder, no matter how polished and handsome he was.
A noise in the hall startled her, and she opened her door just in time to see Allison entering her room, cape thrown over her shoulders. What is the little chit u p to now? Cecelia wondered and stepped into the hall. “Allison,” she called.
The girl halted, hand on the doorknob, and straightened her back before turning around to face her aunt’s stern countenance. A blush suffused her cheeks in a rosy shade, and though she smiled timidly, a sense of defiance crept into her tone. “Yes, Aunt. What do you want?”
“I should
Beth clutched at his arm. “I’ve never done this with another man. I couldn’t do this with any other man but you. I love you, Howard.” She lowered her eyes, appalled at her audacity in calling him by his Christian name, but she couldn’t help herself.
Her long hair streamed like waves across her breasts, and she looked so lovely that Howard wished to keep her with him forever. He felt uneasy at her admission of love, but after all, she was only an Irish serving girl and he was her better. Certainly she loved him. What harm would be done by trifling with her? So there was no harm in saying he loved her, too, which he promptly did. The words of love gained him Beth’s kisses and the delights of her body for the rest of the night. When morning dawned, before he sent her on her way, Howard easily told her that he loved her, and for the first time in his life he began to believe he meant the words.
5
There was something unsettling about Paul Flanders, something Cecelia couldn’t pin down but unsettling enough to prevent further sleep. An early morning haze enveloped the room though the drapes were pulled, allowing her to see the objects in her room as she sat up in bed and plumped the pillows.
It was a lovely room in its way, even if it had belonged to her brother’s low-born Irish wife. 0f course Cecelia had changed certain things when she moved in after the girl’s departure all those years ago, but the ancient tapestry depicting a stag hunt still hung on the far wall and had belonged to the original owners of the Hall.
Her mind drifted back to the day she had confronted Avery’s widow, the day the girl confirmed her pregnancy and declared she would keep the estate as her own. A small smile curved upwards on Cecelia’s usually solemn face. She had thwarted that plan by stealing the property right from under the unsuspecting girl’s nose. It wasn’t hard since Avery’s wife wasn’t versed in law and didn’t want her child to grow up bearing the stigma of bastard. But there was no way Cecelia would allow the young and not-so-grieving widow to take what she most desired. And hadn’t she been magnanimous to the girl after all? She had even placed funds for the child with a London solicitor.
“How clever you were, Cecelia,” she spoke aloud and patted the bed covers in self approval. Then she sighed in exasperation because something about Paul Flanders still nagged at her. She was positive he wanted her money, and her property. Why else would he wish to court Allison? No one really knew anything about him, but Cecelia didn’t need to know the details since she had already surmised his motives. But why did he want Fairfax Manor so ardently? There was just something in his face, his eyes, his tone of voice when he was in the house—almost as if he caressed it and already loved it…
She threw the covers back and got out of bed, pulling open the drapes to find the morning misty with just a peep of sun illuminating the horizon. The fields were barely visible, but she didn’t have to see them; she knew how they looked by heart. It always surprised her how much she loved this place, how much she had loved it even before it was hers. But now that she did own it, no one was going to take it from her, certainly not some young bounder, no matter how polished and handsome he was.
A noise in the hall startled her, and she opened her door just in time to see Allison entering her room, cape thrown over her shoulders. What is the little chit u p to now? Cecelia wondered and stepped into the hall. “Allison,” she called.
The girl halted, hand on the doorknob, and straightened her back before turning around to face her aunt’s stern countenance. A blush suffused her cheeks in a rosy shade, and though she smiled timidly, a sense of defiance crept into her tone. “Yes, Aunt. What do you want?”
“I should
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