Read Online Lady Sarah's Redemption by Beverley Eikli - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Beverley Eikli
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gasped with disappointment when his mouth left hers.
Compensation was swift as he thrilled her body with a feathered line of kisses
down her throat. He trailed them over her collar bones, tracing the contours of
her cleavage before returning once more to plunder her mouth.
She never wanted him to stop. Arching deeper against him, she raked
her hands through his hair.
Then Caro screamed.
Chapter Six
SARAH
STUMBLED AS she was released, abruptly. Dear Lord, how could they have forgotten
the girl? Endeavouring to master her breathing, she stared across the chasm
that separated her from Mr Hawthorne. His expression was inscrutable. He
ignored his daughter who whimpered from the settee and Sarah wilted inside as
she saw the passion drain from his face.
At Caro’s second scream, shock reflected like a flame, quickly
extinguished, in his dark eyes. Instead of going to her, he turned on his heel,
the doors clicking shut behind him as he disappeared into the moonlit darkness.
“What has father done?”
cried Caro, throwing herself at Sarah.
Sarah stumbled backwards and sank upon the piano stool while Caro
slid from her shoulder to weep at her feet.
“So wicked! Terrible! Mother’s spirit must’ve been in that dress and
bewitched him. Poor Miss Morecroft!” Her muffled voice came in choking gasps.
Still dazed, Sarah realised the need to make Roland appear blameless
in his daughter’s eyes.
“Perfectly understandable,” she said with a briskness she was far
from feeling. “I had no right to deceive him like that.”
She patted Caro’s head, then, seeing the concern still in the girl’s
raised eyes, reassured her, “Have no fears on my account. I didn’t find it
horrible.”
“Roland!” Cecily’s voice drifted, disembodied, from the depths of
the house.
Roland gripped the door handle of the library to steady himself,
closed his eyes to ward off the memory of what had just happened, and waited
for Cecily.
“Roland, there you are. Have you seen Caro? Ellen says she’s not in
bed yet. I was just about to retire when I thought I heard her scream!”
Cecily stood at the top
of the stairs. The pins and hair pads had been removed and her hair hung lankly
and unflatteringly down the sides of her anxious, drawn face.
“I saw her just now.”
Turning his back on her, Roland slipped into the library and closed
the door firmly behind him. His first priority was to pour himself a fortifying
brandy. It was easier said than done. He was shaking so badly he had to steady
himself against the mantelpiece as he removed the glass stopper.
Closing his eyes, he took a long swallow of the amber liquid, hoping
to burn away all traces of Miss Morecroft’s kisses. Kisses, which lingered like
rose petals upon his lips.
* * *
Sarah was still trembling as she sat on the edge of her bed and
peeled off her stockings. Ellen had unbuttoned the tiny row of pearl buttons at
the back of her dress, but now she was alone.
Haunted by the look in her employer’s eye as he’d stood in a shaft
of moonlight and gazed at her, believing her to be his dead wife come to life.
She touched her lips. They still burned. The hunger in his eyes was
branded on her mind. No one had ever looked at her with such longing and
ardour.
She didn’t know what to make of him. Nor did she know what to make
of her own tumultuous heart. Would she feel the same if just anyone kissed her?
She feared not.
Drawing in a ragged breath, she contemplated the difficulties. Mr
Hawthorne had kissed her while conjuring up his dead wife. A great deal of
delicacy would be required on her part to counter his mortification upon seeing
her again.
And if that that was how Venetia had been revered by her husband,
Sarah had her work cut out to compete. For compete she must. The feelings he’d
whipped up could not be discarded lightly.
She blew out her candle and climbed into bed.
It would be a long night.
“Dancing!” Caro blanched. “I already
Compensation was swift as he thrilled her body with a feathered line of kisses
down her throat. He trailed them over her collar bones, tracing the contours of
her cleavage before returning once more to plunder her mouth.
She never wanted him to stop. Arching deeper against him, she raked
her hands through his hair.
Then Caro screamed.
Chapter Six
SARAH
STUMBLED AS she was released, abruptly. Dear Lord, how could they have forgotten
the girl? Endeavouring to master her breathing, she stared across the chasm
that separated her from Mr Hawthorne. His expression was inscrutable. He
ignored his daughter who whimpered from the settee and Sarah wilted inside as
she saw the passion drain from his face.
At Caro’s second scream, shock reflected like a flame, quickly
extinguished, in his dark eyes. Instead of going to her, he turned on his heel,
the doors clicking shut behind him as he disappeared into the moonlit darkness.
“What has father done?”
cried Caro, throwing herself at Sarah.
Sarah stumbled backwards and sank upon the piano stool while Caro
slid from her shoulder to weep at her feet.
“So wicked! Terrible! Mother’s spirit must’ve been in that dress and
bewitched him. Poor Miss Morecroft!” Her muffled voice came in choking gasps.
Still dazed, Sarah realised the need to make Roland appear blameless
in his daughter’s eyes.
“Perfectly understandable,” she said with a briskness she was far
from feeling. “I had no right to deceive him like that.”
She patted Caro’s head, then, seeing the concern still in the girl’s
raised eyes, reassured her, “Have no fears on my account. I didn’t find it
horrible.”
“Roland!” Cecily’s voice drifted, disembodied, from the depths of
the house.
Roland gripped the door handle of the library to steady himself,
closed his eyes to ward off the memory of what had just happened, and waited
for Cecily.
“Roland, there you are. Have you seen Caro? Ellen says she’s not in
bed yet. I was just about to retire when I thought I heard her scream!”
Cecily stood at the top
of the stairs. The pins and hair pads had been removed and her hair hung lankly
and unflatteringly down the sides of her anxious, drawn face.
“I saw her just now.”
Turning his back on her, Roland slipped into the library and closed
the door firmly behind him. His first priority was to pour himself a fortifying
brandy. It was easier said than done. He was shaking so badly he had to steady
himself against the mantelpiece as he removed the glass stopper.
Closing his eyes, he took a long swallow of the amber liquid, hoping
to burn away all traces of Miss Morecroft’s kisses. Kisses, which lingered like
rose petals upon his lips.
* * *
Sarah was still trembling as she sat on the edge of her bed and
peeled off her stockings. Ellen had unbuttoned the tiny row of pearl buttons at
the back of her dress, but now she was alone.
Haunted by the look in her employer’s eye as he’d stood in a shaft
of moonlight and gazed at her, believing her to be his dead wife come to life.
She touched her lips. They still burned. The hunger in his eyes was
branded on her mind. No one had ever looked at her with such longing and
ardour.
She didn’t know what to make of him. Nor did she know what to make
of her own tumultuous heart. Would she feel the same if just anyone kissed her?
She feared not.
Drawing in a ragged breath, she contemplated the difficulties. Mr
Hawthorne had kissed her while conjuring up his dead wife. A great deal of
delicacy would be required on her part to counter his mortification upon seeing
her again.
And if that that was how Venetia had been revered by her husband,
Sarah had her work cut out to compete. For compete she must. The feelings he’d
whipped up could not be discarded lightly.
She blew out her candle and climbed into bed.
It would be a long night.
“Dancing!” Caro blanched. “I already
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