Manor of Pleasure: An Erotic Historical Romance by Debra Sheridan Page A
Authors: Debra Sheridan
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nervously. She straightened her clothing and tried to fix her hair. "I must look a fright."
Desmond stood up beside her and grabbed her hand. "Can you forgive me, Rebecca? I know now that I should have told you.”
She was weak and spent from heartache. She pulled her hand away. "It doesn't matter, Desmond." She shook her head. "None of it matters. You needn't worry. And I shan't hold you to your promise." She turned away from him and walked to the door.
Desmond reached out and grabbed her arm. "Why do you say these things to me?" he entreated, "I don't understand it."
Rebecca refused to look at him. Tears rolled down her face. She prayed he would not see them. She wiped her face dry with her free hand.
Desmond strengthened his hold on her arm and pulled her to him. He spoke to her slowly and with deliberation. "You're mad if you think I'm going to let you leave me." His voice was shaking.
Rebecca closed her eyes and swallowed. She pulled away from him. She grabbed onto the door latch in a feeble attempt to leave. He wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair. "Not again, Rebecca," he pleaded.
She held her ground. "Let me go, Desmond," she said in a whisper. "I am…soiled goods. Nothing you can do, nothing you can say to anyone will ever change what I am."
“ There's one thing to be said of soiled goods,” Desmond reached for her, and his grip was bruising. “I shan't have to take much care in handling you, shall I?”
“ Please don't tease, Des.” She turned to face him, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm heading towards a firestorm. I will not take you with me. You don't deserve it."
"And you do?" Desmond looked down at her. Her face was still flushed but her lips were colorless. "Rebecca, you're not well." She was shivering uncontrollably now.
He grabbed his coat and wrapped it around her and held her close. Rebecca felt the room spinning and then collapsed in his arms.
CHAPTER TEN
The night was black when they arrived at the house. They were astride Desmond's horse with Guinevere tethered behind them. Rebecca lay against Desmond's chest, barely conscious.
True to his word, Abbott stood at the entrance of Pinhope Manor as they approached. Rebecca was soon settled in her room and Dr. Elkins had been summoned.
After the doctor had completed his examination, he joined the Garways just outside of Rebecca's bedroom. He closed the door quietly behind him.
"It's nothing serious, although it might have been if Desmond had not found her when he did. It is a mild case of hypothermia and dehydration, nothing that a day in bed will not cure."
"May I see her?" asked Desmond.
"She's sleeping now, Desmond. You best wait until morning," Dr. Elkins answered.
"Go home, Desmond. Get some sleep." Lord Garway said to him.
"You're certain she's in no danger?" Desmond looked to the doctor.
"I'm quite certain of it. She'll be fine," Dr. Elkins assured him.
"Shall I send for the carriage, Desmond?" Lord Garway asked him.
"No, thank you, Lord Garway. I'd much rather walk. I'll see you in the morning then. Goodnight."
The cold night air was bracing and Desmond welcomed it. He needed to clear his head. That she would break off their engagement at all was unthinkable. But to break over a scheme of Sir Isaac's would be utterly preposterous.
Surely he could make her see that. He had to make her see that because he could not now fathom a life without her. If she were to leave him, she would sail across the Atlantic, he was sure of it. The break would be absolute and final.
He wondered how he would survive it this time, having lived this dream of her for the past two days. His heartache would be unimaginable. He tried not to think about it but it followed him home like a specter.
The next day, Desmond woke up unsettled. Then his recollection of the prior day's events fell upon him. His morning rituals gave him some respite; they per-occupied him and applied a veneer of normalcy to his day.
At breakfast,
Desmond stood up beside her and grabbed her hand. "Can you forgive me, Rebecca? I know now that I should have told you.”
She was weak and spent from heartache. She pulled her hand away. "It doesn't matter, Desmond." She shook her head. "None of it matters. You needn't worry. And I shan't hold you to your promise." She turned away from him and walked to the door.
Desmond reached out and grabbed her arm. "Why do you say these things to me?" he entreated, "I don't understand it."
Rebecca refused to look at him. Tears rolled down her face. She prayed he would not see them. She wiped her face dry with her free hand.
Desmond strengthened his hold on her arm and pulled her to him. He spoke to her slowly and with deliberation. "You're mad if you think I'm going to let you leave me." His voice was shaking.
Rebecca closed her eyes and swallowed. She pulled away from him. She grabbed onto the door latch in a feeble attempt to leave. He wrapped his arms around her. He buried his face in her hair. "Not again, Rebecca," he pleaded.
She held her ground. "Let me go, Desmond," she said in a whisper. "I am…soiled goods. Nothing you can do, nothing you can say to anyone will ever change what I am."
“ There's one thing to be said of soiled goods,” Desmond reached for her, and his grip was bruising. “I shan't have to take much care in handling you, shall I?”
“ Please don't tease, Des.” She turned to face him, her eyes shining with tears. "I'm heading towards a firestorm. I will not take you with me. You don't deserve it."
"And you do?" Desmond looked down at her. Her face was still flushed but her lips were colorless. "Rebecca, you're not well." She was shivering uncontrollably now.
He grabbed his coat and wrapped it around her and held her close. Rebecca felt the room spinning and then collapsed in his arms.
CHAPTER TEN
The night was black when they arrived at the house. They were astride Desmond's horse with Guinevere tethered behind them. Rebecca lay against Desmond's chest, barely conscious.
True to his word, Abbott stood at the entrance of Pinhope Manor as they approached. Rebecca was soon settled in her room and Dr. Elkins had been summoned.
After the doctor had completed his examination, he joined the Garways just outside of Rebecca's bedroom. He closed the door quietly behind him.
"It's nothing serious, although it might have been if Desmond had not found her when he did. It is a mild case of hypothermia and dehydration, nothing that a day in bed will not cure."
"May I see her?" asked Desmond.
"She's sleeping now, Desmond. You best wait until morning," Dr. Elkins answered.
"Go home, Desmond. Get some sleep." Lord Garway said to him.
"You're certain she's in no danger?" Desmond looked to the doctor.
"I'm quite certain of it. She'll be fine," Dr. Elkins assured him.
"Shall I send for the carriage, Desmond?" Lord Garway asked him.
"No, thank you, Lord Garway. I'd much rather walk. I'll see you in the morning then. Goodnight."
The cold night air was bracing and Desmond welcomed it. He needed to clear his head. That she would break off their engagement at all was unthinkable. But to break over a scheme of Sir Isaac's would be utterly preposterous.
Surely he could make her see that. He had to make her see that because he could not now fathom a life without her. If she were to leave him, she would sail across the Atlantic, he was sure of it. The break would be absolute and final.
He wondered how he would survive it this time, having lived this dream of her for the past two days. His heartache would be unimaginable. He tried not to think about it but it followed him home like a specter.
The next day, Desmond woke up unsettled. Then his recollection of the prior day's events fell upon him. His morning rituals gave him some respite; they per-occupied him and applied a veneer of normalcy to his day.
At breakfast,
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