Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Agnes was unsure of how she had gotten herself back to her chambers after that.
She had left the study in a daze, running Silas’ words around in her mind over and over, perhaps in disbelief, perhaps in search of hidden meanings behind them.
He had no reason to do this… to include it into their deal, but he had.
Heat had filled her face as she recalled what he had done to her in his study, and she quickly hurried back – or as quickly as she could on wobbly knees.
Beatrice had tried to enquire about her well-being and ask her about dinner, but Agnes feigned a headache and said she wanted to go to bed early.
Once she had convinced her maid to leave her be, she dropped onto her bed, buried her face in a pillow, and wailed in embarrassment, somewhat unable to come to terms with what had happened mere moments earlier.
But the signs were there, in the looseness of her body, the heat beneath her skin. She could still smell him, still feel him pressed against her, mouthing at her neck, petting her gently with his hands.
Suddenly, she sat up, feeling a little upset. Why had he left her there like that? Why had he stopped? It was unfair that – much like the first time – he had given her a taste and left her aching for more.
“Goodness,” she breathed in mild awe. “I must have taken leave of my senses.”
Saying that didn’t change the fact that she craved to have him by her side again, to fill her senses with his taste and touch, to melt helplessly beneath him.
It would take a miracle for her to think of anything else anytime soon, and she whined pitifully, dropping down to lay on her back.
Slowly, her hand came up to her mouth, her fingertips tracing her lips lightly as she remembered the fiery kisses they had shared and the words he had coolly told her afterward.
“…Every time Scar finishes a training session excellently, I will reward you afterward.”
She smiled to herself, giggling in excitement.
I suppose it is not such a bad thing to have something to look forward to henceforth.
Silas shut the door to his chambers and pressed his back to it, letting out a shuddery exhale. He remained that way for a while, focused on breathing deeply, willing away the arousal weighing heavily in his gut and straining his breeches.
He had been so close… desperately wanted to rip off her clothes and take her right there, like that on his desk. He wanted to have her screaming his name, clawing at his skin as he sheathed himself in her heat.
It was hard resisting her. He wanted to fold, to fall, but the fear of losing her as well held him back. Avoiding her had been a good tactic to help him curb his attraction to her – good but not permanent.
His worries were still present, just as consistent as his nightmares.
More nights than not, he found himself in the carriage that his grandfather and himself had been in, unable to move his body.
His eyes wandered around, taking in the splintered wood and displaced cushions, slowly realizing that the carriage had turned onto his side.
Eventually, he would remember that he had not been traveling alone and call out for his grandfather, startled when a wet gurgle is a response he is met with. He would shift his gaze in the direction of the sound… and wish he hadn’t looked.
His grandfather – ever thinking of his well-being – had asked him not to look and had ordered him to close his eyes.
But Silas could not obey, not even in his dreams, unable to take his attention off the blood dripping from his grandfather’s lips onto his formally pristine shirt, screaming as soon as he fully took in the sight of a tree branch poking through his grandfather’s stomach.
His screams never changed the outcome. Help arrived after the old man had taken his final breath – a painful exhale that had brought a fresh wave of tears to Silas’ eyes. He always woke up in pain, heart aching in his chest as the urge to scream clawed at his throat.
First, it had been his parents, then his grandfather.
He seemed to be fated to give up those he cared for the most. And he didn’t want that to be the case with this marriage – with Agnes.
He had hoped that by keeping her at arm’s length, if she was also taken from him, he would only have to mourn her out of duty.
But it was too late for him to still do that. He had already breached the gap between them. He had grown to care for her, given into the itch to have and know her. He had been intrigued and impressed by her – despite the initial impression of irritation she had left on him.
He had grown accustomed to hearing her laughter while riding his horse, the sight of her walking or reading. He was adapting to her presence and finding that he was not opposed to making compromises for her sake.
Silas was still not ready or willing to be more than her husband on paper, but he was determined to make the most of what he could get with their current arrangement.
What was the worst that could happen?
It had quickly gotten tiring how the mere sight of Silas could push her to the precipice of a heart attack.
Since most of the wedding preparations were complete, Agnes had decided to dedicate the day to training with Scar. She had set out a little later than she usually did in the morning because she had slept so well the night before and failed to wake by her usual time.
She had leisurely eaten her breakfast, stopped by the kitchen to thank the cook for an excellent meal, and then changed into her riding habit before making her way outside.
Agnes felt oddly good that day, alert and refreshed, and everything seemed nicer out in the open air, so she had not thought too much about walking around the garden for a while, then finally heading to the stables.
This was why the sight of Silas had stopped her in her tracks immediately, filling her with something that couldn’t be distinguished from anticipation and dread.
He met her gaze head-on, quirking an eyebrow in question at the uncertain look on her face.
She cleared her throat and walked forward, smiling at the physician when he bowed before facing her husband-to-be and speaking,
“Your Grace… why – what brings you here? So early? T-Today?”
Silas bit his lip in an effort to keep himself from teasing her, resolving to remain on his best behavior – at least for now.
“I wanted to watch you at work. See how you prepare my horse for his competition. I know you have been doing well up until now, but I still felt I should observe, just for a while.”
“Oh,” she nibbled at her lower lip, blushing when his gaze dropped to her mouth, then slowly working back up to her eyes. “That’s – I suppose that’s fine. But you don’t have to –”
Silas leaned in close, smirking down at her and the barely-there distance that existed between them. “Do you want me to leave? I will if you feel uncomfortable.”
Agnes swallowed, suddenly lightheaded, and stepped back quickly.
“No… no, that is not necessary. But do not distract me or give me any orders on how to do things.”
Silas agreed easily. “It is you who has been training him. I have no place to speak here. As for distracting you… perhaps it is you who should try not to be distracted by me.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes, leaving to fetch Scar, the heat in her cheeks spreading to her ears at the sound of his laughter.
On the other side of the property, the older ladies sat in the garden, watching their wards speak in front of the stable as they nibbled on cookies and cakes with tea.
“Oh, they seem to be getting along swimmingly.” Lady Anna observed.
“And not a moment too soon,” the Dowager Duchess nodded. “I must say – they do make a wonderful couple to see. Just look – look how he leans towards her and how she shyly avoids his gaze. Oh, what a precious thing young love is.”
Lady Anna agreed with a nod, lifting her teacup in a toast.
“Here’s to them – may their romance kick off quickly so we will be gifted the opportunity to laugh at their displays of affection.”
Her friend grinned and raised her own cup in solidarity.
Agnes found it difficult to focus, with Silas watching her every move.
He had been as quiet as he promised, but she could feel his stare on her, heavy and imposing, as she conducted the drills Scars had long since mastered and put him through the new trick again.
The horse was doing a great job of taking most of her attention, but every so often, she would look over to Silas and see him looking right back, his expression unreadable.
It sent shivers down her spine and parched her throat, and rather quickly, she began to pray for the training to end.
Eventually, it did, and she thankfully dismounted with a sigh of relief, leading Scar back to the stable. Simon met her halfway and retrieved the horse, taking him back to the stables in her stead. As Agnes took off her riding gloves, Silas walked up to her and instructed,
“Henceforth, you are to meet me in my study in the evening to give me a report about the day’s training session. If I deem your performance satisfactory, I will reward you.”
Agnes wanted to object – was there a need to give a report when he had just witnessed all that she had done? – but stopped herself in time, deciding that it was best to obey, especially if it satisfied the cravings she had been unable to ignore since last night, and nodded wordlessly.
That was how she found herself in his study an hour later, fresh from a bath – a luxury she had not been given a chance to indulge in the day before – feeling soft and warm beneath his gaze. He wasn’t sitting behind his desk today, instead lounging on a chaise with a relaxed expression.
“Well?” he enquired expectantly.
She cleared her throat and began.
“Since the competition is only a few days away, Scar’s training henceforth is focused on fortifying his strengths and eliminating any weaknesses that might remain.
He has already mastered all the tricks I taught him, so the best course of action is to have him run through all of them to ensure that he remains at an expert level, and that is what we did today,” she paused, then added, “I noticed that he was a little shaky after landing his jumps, so we worked on his stability and balance as well. That’s… that is all.”
He nodded curtly.
“You did well. It is always nice… watching your ride.”
His words sent a rush of heat flowing from her head to her toes, and she fought not to seem too affected, failing as he beckoned her closer, wordlessly inviting her to collect her reward.
She easily fell into his embrace and settled on his thighs, sighing as their lips met in a hot, wet slide.
It did not take her long to come undone, melting in his arms as he held her securely, ravishing her with his lips and tongue.
Her arms came up to circle around his neck as she tried to press closer to him, desiring to share the heat burning her up from within, panting desperately for more.
He seemed willing to give her what she wanted, his hands wandering and groping as his lips worked hers nonstop.
She did not even realize he had somehow lowered her down on her back on top of the chaise until his lips trailed gentle kisses down from her jaw to her throat, biting and sucking at the pale flesh there and humming in satisfaction when a particular spot left her moaning.
His hands tugged her skirts up, lightly running over the exposed skin that had just been exposed, his touch sending shivers through her body.
He sat back between her legs and stared at her with a hungry expression, and for a moment, she felt too exposed, wondering if he would think less of her because of how easy it had been to reduce her to this state.
She reached out to pull him back to her, aching to hide beneath his broad form and strong muscles, her heart skipping a beat as he took hold of the hand she had extended, turning it over to kiss her wrist. The unexpected tenderness made her heart swell with warmth, and the desire to hold him multiplied.
Silas seemed to have other plans, though, leaning down to give her a chaste kiss before lowering himself to settle between her legs again. Confused, she propped herself up on her elbows, eyes widening as he kept his gaze firmly affixed on hers as he leaned down and licked at her center.
Agnes was barely able to hold the whimper that threatened to escape past her lips, dropping down on her back as he continued to lap at her ready wetness.
The sensation was insane, and she quickly found herself lost to it all, how his tongue lashed inside, working her open with masterful strokes, slowly but surely driving her wild.
Her hands found solace in his hair, her fingers burrowing into his soft curls in a bid to find some sort of footing as he continued to lick and suck like a man that had been dying of thirst. His grip on her thigh held her in place while the other hand trailed to where his face was buried, his fingers joining his tongue in tantalizing and exploring her.
It had become too much, too good to remind herself to be quiet, and she moaned uncontrollably, unable to fight the currents of pleasure pulling her under.
When she succumbed to it, her back arched off the furniture, and she pressed herself against his face, sinking her teeth into her lower lip to keep herself from screaming as her body shook, the overflowing sensation sizzling through every part of her.
He came back up to nuzzle against her cheek, and when she turned to kiss him, she could taste herself on his tongue and lips, the realization causing her to smile a little. He noticed and pulled back with a smug expression.
“You seem as though you thoroughly enjoyed yourself.”
There was no need to deny it. Not when she felt this good in his arms.
“I suppose you could say that I did.”