Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
A month passed from Keith’s adventure with Jemma and the kiss he shared with Lydia. He hadn’t talked to her since, but he’d seen her daily. His chamber overlooked the beach where she walked every day. He watched her wrap a long piece of fabric over her head on windy days, but it usually sat over her left shoulder. Some days, she wore a long flowing skirt with a hip-length tunic. Other days, she wore the tightly fitted pants he’d learned from Rajesh long ago were called churidar . Over them, she wore tunics that came to her midthigh. He only saw her in gowns when she was in the nearby village of Lyme Regis. He’d seen her reading in the garden a week after their brief interlude, but nothing about her posture invited him to approach.
However, as the days drew on, he grew ever more miserable keeping his distance. She intrigued him in ways no one else, woman or man, ever had. It wasn’t just her connection to his sister, though he wanted to learn more about it. It was the intelligence she clearly possessed. She often sat and read on the beach, and he knew she finished books quickly by their different sizes. He was much too far away to see any specific details, but every couple of days, they changed.
He'd resolved that morning to join her on the beach and finally talk to her. He needed to know if their kiss meant anything to her. He needed to know if he pined for nothing. He needed to hear her, to just be close to her. She arrived at the beach nearly the same time every day, so he hurried through the tunnel and out through the cave. He wanted to arrive before her, perhaps making it look like a coincidence. But time ticked by, and she never arrived. He looked at his pocket watch incessantly. After an hour and a half, he turned back to the cave. His heart ached, and he wondered if she knew he was there and avoided him. He sighed as he pressed the latch to enter his library. He recognized the voice he heard immediately, but he hesitated to announce his presence. He waited instead.
* * *
Lydia carried the stack of books she’d most recently borrowed from Forde Abbey. The former duke hadn’t cared that she borrowed them at her leisure. He’d laughed at her when she’d asked permission as a child, mocking her since she was a girl who could read. He was a man who refused to acknowledge her royal lineage, adamant it didn’t count for savages. He’d said hateful things that still rang in her ears when she recalled them. It had only made her more determined. Kelsey often helped her pick out books, and they would share recommendations.
For all the old duke’s bluster, he possessed a collection of Indian books that explicitly illustrated various sexual activities for two or more partners. It had titillated the girls at age twelve, but it hadn’t been much later that Lydia’s courses began and Sarla unknowingly explained what Lydia had seen. She never admitted to her mother about the books, but she’d listened to her mother’s advice about the wonders of being with a loving husband and how to avoid men without scruples or intentions of marrying her.
Curiosity brought the girls back to the books more than once, and the images remained etched in Lydia’s mind. The near-acrobatics had played out in her mind every night for the past month. Every dream featured Keith as her partner as they explored her erotic imaginings. They tempted her to revisit the books as she eased into the library. She’d seen Keith on horseback early that morning. He often rode at dawn, his blond hair streaming behind him as the wind caught his locks. He looked at one with the beast, but it only elicited mental pictures of him straddling her.
As she put the first book back, she chided herself for her unchaste thoughts. She was lewd, and she knew it. She feared she would scandalize her parents and sister, and she would certainly wind up in prayer if Father Adams ever learned of her thoughts. The Anglican priest was stern about fornication and often preached of its dangers. She’d never felt like the sermons meant much until this past month. Two out of the past four Sundays had felt like he spoke to her directly. She also felt guilty that she lusted for her friend’s brother. She’d read the diary more than once, and she knew Kelsey had held conflicting feelings for her brother. She wasn’t certain Kelsey would approve.
Lydia finished shelving the books she’d borrowed before she browsed for ones she hadn’t yet read. She slid the ladder along the rails at the top and middle of the floor to ceiling bookshelves that lined two walls. She often wondered who’d accumulated the magnificent collection. It was clear it had happened over the centuries, but she was curious if one person contributed to it more than others.
“Kels, what should I read next? I’ve gotten through most of what interests me. I don’t wish to read about agriculture or animal husbandry. I’m not interested in any of the husbandry my father keeps pushing me toward. Not one of them appeals to me. Have you seen who’s been by lately? What do you think? None seem right. Ah. Here’s something.”
Lydia pulled out a book she’d never noticed before. She turned it over before looking at the front cover again.
Travels into Several Remote Nations of the World. In Four Parts. By Lemuel Gulliver, First a Surgeon, and then a Captain of Several Ships
Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall if she knew the story, but nothing came to mind. She looked at the other books near it and found ones she’d already read.
“ Candide is a little too close to the truth for something satirical. Voltaire is also a bit dry. Mother might forgive me for bringing home Les Liaisons Dangereuses, but I don’t think Father would. That’s why I read it on the beach. Have you heard of this Gulliver and his travels, Kels? I need something witty after the secrets you told me. I failed you on both accounts. I swore he would pay. Now I discover it was so much worse, and they’re both dead. I never got the justice you deserve. Is that why you’re still here? They’re gone, but you’re not. What am I supposed to do?”
Lydia rested her head against the shelf and closed her eyes. Tears leaked from them, just as they had every day since she’d finished reading Kelsey’s journal. There was much Lydia already knew, but it broke her heart to discover what her best friend had hidden, even from her. There’d been a moment of hurt that Kelsey hadn’t fully confided in her, but she reminded herself they were her secrets to keep but not her secrets to tell. It was Kelsey’s choice what she shared.
A draft wafted around her, making her straighten and look around.
Kelsey?
But it wasn’t her friend she spied. Keith was nearly to her by the time she saw him. He said nothing but pulled her into his arms. She hesitated, but when he eased her head against his chest, she melted. She felt safe for the first time in ages. His physical size shielded her from the world, but his entire presence made her feel untouchable, protected, and cherished. She knew her father would always safeguard her, but Keith’s embrace couldn’t be more different from the paternal ones Will offered.
“Lydia, what’s wrong? What did you mean just now?” Keith held her, but she tried to jerk away. She could have broken free if she tried harder, but as much as she didn’t wish to answer those questions, neither did she want to leave his arms. Every moment of self-denial welled inside her and threatened to overwhelm her. She wanted to savor being next to Keith, not answer his inquiries.
“I can’t say, Keith. Please don’t ask it of me. I don’t want to lie.”
“Do you really believe you have to keep secrets from me? Do you believe I would betray you?” It hurt Keith to think she so distrusted him, despite how she leaned into his embrace again. Her actions contradicted her words.
“They aren’t my secrets to tell. She didn’t even tell them to me until after she died.”
“Do you truly believe Kelsey haunts this home?”
“Haunts seems so ominous, but she’s here. I feel like a fool saying it, but I’m certain of it. She is not at rest, and I don’t know how to help her.”
“And you won’t let me help you.”
Lydia tilted her head back to look up at him. Her anguished expression matched his. She swallowed, forcing herself to remain quiet when all she wanted was to divulge everything. She shook her head as more tears streamed down her cheeks. Keith brushed them away with the pad of his thumb. He kissed each cheek, then her forehead. She sighed with her eyes closed.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“Cry if you need to. Whatever’s happened recently has caused you new grief.”
“I don’t want to be?—”
“Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. I won’t think less of you.” Keith swept her into his arms and walked to the settee before the fire. Despite the spring air, it was still chilly so near the coast. He sat and drew her closer as she settled on his lap. She burrowed her face against his chest and sobbed. He cooed and stroked her back, kissing her forehead and crown until she calmed.
Lydia finally wiped her eyes and sat up. She twisted to look at Keith, his sympathy tearing at her heart. She cupped his jaw and leaned forward, tentative at first. When he didn’t draw away, she initiated the kiss. She waited for him to take the lead, but he only returned the pressure. She grew braver and slid her tongue along his lips. He opened, his tongue drawing hers into his mouth. His hand, at first resting on her shoulder blade, caressed down her back until it cupped her backside. He groaned to feel the ample flesh. Lydia was short of stature but not petite. He relished the feel of her softness and kneaded her buttock. She twisted, shifting onto her hip, allowing both of his hands to grasp her bottom.
Keith knew she felt his length pressed first against her hip and now against her belly. It tempted him to move her, so she straddled him, but he feared the desire to do more. But it wasn’t long before Lydia grew restless, and he knew her frustration.
“I want to touch you, sweetling. I want to bring you pleasure and ease the ache. I won’t do anything you don’t agree to.”
“I’d agree to anything right now. I want to touch you too. I need you to touch me. I understand, but I don’t.” Lydia knew she made little sense, but she knew she was aroused and why. She’d read enough and Sarla had explained it, but she didn’t know what to do to satisfy the need without coupling. She wasn’t prepared for that, even if it was what she wanted now.
“I know, little one.” Keith gathered her tunic and pulled it high enough for his hand to slip underneath. He relished not finding stays beneath her clothes. If she were his wife, he would ban her from ever wearing the blasted contraptions. As he gazed down at the woman staring up at him with such trusting eyes, he realized he wanted a life with her. The thought nipped at him constantly, but he pushed it away. This was the first time he let it take hold, and he doubted it would ever let go.
His hand covered her breast, and he feared he would spill his seed. He’d been with women of all sizes and shapes from various locales, starting in his early twenties on his Grand Tour through to his early thirties as a privateer. He’d gravitated toward the endowed when they flaunted their attributes. But for the first time, he preferred Lydia’s smaller breasts since they fit perfectly in his hand. He felt a wave of possessiveness as he grasped them as though they were his and made for him.
He squeezed with increasing firmness as she arched toward him. He feared he would hurt her, but she tugged at his hair and shook her head as they kissed when he tried to draw his hand away. His free hand slid down the back of her pants and cupped her backside. The silky skin made him wonder if she rubbed oil into her flesh. His little finger grazed along the divide, but she didn’t flinch. However, he couldn’t reach the place he desired. He released her breast and was quick to slip his hand down the front of her churidar. His fingers ran through the tuft on her mons before they slipped between her legs. His first and third finger brushed her nether lips as his second finger dipped along her seam.
Lydia’s moan made him catch his breath as lust coursed through him, sapping his control. Need pulsated in his cock as it begged to replace his fingers and thrust into her. He’d coupled with women for entertainment and to ease a physical desire. But his neediness went beyond mere attraction. He wanted all of her: heart, mind, and soul. And his reason was simple; he wished to give her all of him.
“Keith,” she breathed.
“I know, sweetling. I want to make you climax. Do you know what that means, Lyddie?”
She nodded her head. “I found books in here a long time ago, and my mother explained it.”
Keith chuckled. “I should have known you’d be curious. I would explore everything with you. But for today, I wish to bring you to release, then hold you again.”
“What about you?”
“No, sweetling. I will ease my ache alone and later. I want you to take without worrying about giving.”
“But that must be uncomf?—”
“Shh, little one, or I shall kiss you to make you quiet. Don’t argue.” Keith’s smile softened his words.
“Kiss me anyway?” Lydia couldn’t believe she asked that, but then it seemed rather benign considering the man had his hand down her pants, and his fingers dipping inside her.
“You never need to ask, Lydia. I give them to you, and only you, freely.”
She would sort out what he meant later. It was too much to work through now. The sensations he stirred consumed her attention as his thumb stroked her pearl. She recalled images she’d seen of a man doing this to a woman. She wished they were bare, so she could watch. Her mind jumped to the illustrations that had followed of the couple pleasuring one another with their mouths.
If I were his wife, would he do such things to me? Do Englishmen do that? I imagine so. At least, Keith probably does since he’s been so many places. But do Englishwomen let their men do that? What would he think of me?
Lydia’s thoughts flew away as his fingers eased farther into her entrance. The feeling had her lifting her hips, trying to draw his digits into her even more. His thumb worked faster as a familiar sensation tightened her belly. She’d learned much from those books and experimented as much as she could without puncturing her maidenhead.
“More,” she whispered. Without thinking, her hand slid beneath her waistband and covered Keith’s. She guided him with expertise that made his heart skip a beat. “Those books had pictures of people alone.”
She hoped he understood her meaning, and she assumed he did when he rubbed harder and faster. His kiss was wild and devouring. She withdrew her hand, as she needed both to cling to him. Neither realized she moved, and that he guided her until her mons rubbed against his cock. She straddled his lap, her hips undulating against his hand and his rod. Her head tipped back as she rode his fingers. Her hair tickled his kneecaps, and her fingers bit into his shoulders.
His free hand worked the buttons down the front of her tunic until he could push it off her shoulders. He dove in and feasted on one breast, then the other, alternating as though he hadn’t eaten in ages. Her release swept her away as though it was a sea wave spinning her over and over, tumbling her until she didn’t know which way was up. Her only lifeline was clinging to Keith. She cared not that the servants likely heard her as she moaned through her climax. She fell forward, her head resting on his shoulder as the euphoria faded. But the feel of his rigid length still rubbing against her pearl left her unsated.
Keith flipped them, so Lydia rested on her back. He ripped her pants down to her ankles before he settled his shoulders between her thighs. “Do you know what I’m going to do next?”
“God, I hope you do. Keith, I’ve never done any of this before. I swear I only know because of the books and what my mother told me.”
“I never doubted that, Lydia. But I don’t care about anything but being with you right now.”
“You’d care later if you thought I was a wanton, that I was soiled.”
Keith surged upward and grasped her throat, but his hold was light, not at all threatening. It was more possessive, yet gentle. “Don’t say that. I do not think less of you for wanting me. How could I? I know you haven’t been with a man because I felt your maidenhead. But even if it wasn’t there, I don’t care. You’re here with me now. No other man has you beneath him, Lydia. You don’t strike me as a woman who would share, so I won’t make you. But know that I am not a man who shares, either.”
Before she could respond, Keith’s body thrust backward, and his tongue was at her entrance. He worked her plump petals, inhaling her scent that went straight to his head. She smelled womanly, but there were elements of jasmine, patchouli, and rose. He breathed her in as his tongue flicked her pearl. He watched her as she watched him. Her breasts rose and fell, tempting him away, but he wouldn’t be distracted. He suckled on her nub as his fingers continued to work her. With a moan that seemed to come from her core, she squeezed her thighs against his head, lifted her hips, and shattered.
When she clawed at him, he shifted over her once more, but only after he suckled each breast until her nipples were distended. He pinched and twisted, but not enough to hurt. She guided his head toward hers, hungry for a kiss. Her taste lingered on his tongue, but she cared not. A steely arm slipped beneath her before she gasped as he flipped them. She found herself draped across him. She thought she’d had her fill, but once more, his cock pressed against her, reigniting the fire.
“Little one, I shall spill if you keep moving like that.”
“And if that’s what I want? If I don’t accept your refusal?” Lydia grinned.
“It was half-hearted at best. I meant what I said, but you feel better than anything I’ve ever experienced.” He watched as a seductive gleam entered her eye. He knew it pleased her to hear that declaration, and he knew she understood what he meant. He wanted her to know he desired her above all others. He exaggerated not at all. He enjoyed seeing her pride after seeing her sorrow.
He grasped her bottom once again, certain his hands had found where they belonged permanently. He helped her rock on his length until he couldn’t repress his thrusts. If they didn’t have his smalls and breeches between them, he would claim her and plant his seed inside her core. Instead, he felt his cock pulse before his release took control. When she glanced down between them, he was certain she realized what happened. When their eyes met again, wonder replaced the seductiveness.
“Come here, sweetling. Let me catch my breath while I hold you.”
They lay together as the minutes ticked by on the mantle clock. They both watched the flames in the hearth, neither worried about the world beyond the library. But as the sun shifted and cast longer shadows, they knew Lydia had to return home. She eased away, but her eyes gravitated to the stain on the front of his breeches. She looked up at him and found him observing her. He sat up and helped her off the settee before she straightened her clothes. Once she had her tunic buttoned again, he opened his knees and guided her to sit again, her legs between his.
“Lydia, I must leave in the morning for a fortnight. I never dreaded leaving Forde Abbey before, but I loathe the idea now. But I have no choice. I have people expecting me who need what I have.”
“I’m guessing it isn’t tea.”
“That’s what I will tell people if they look, but don’t get too close. I’m meeting Rajesh at Powderham, picking up the cargo, and sailing to Calais.” Keith brushed hair back from her face and drew locks from over her shoulder before smoothing it down her back. “I don’t want to share this with you, then have you think I walked away—or sailed away—with ease. This meant everything to me.”
“I don’t want to regret any of this, but it’s hard not to wonder if it was a mistake if you’re leaving right away.”
“I’m coming back, Lyddie. I’m coming back to you if that’s what you want.”
Lydia glanced down and nodded. She felt vulnerable admitting that, even when he’d already told her more than once he wanted her. How did she know if he was telling the truth? She wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust he wasn’t spinning a tale. But she was in over her head, having shared no type of intimacy with a man, let alone coming so close to coupling.
“I want that.” Their eyes met as she responded.
“This isn’t over between us, little one. At least, I don’t want it to be. Think about what you want while I’m gone. If you change your mind, I will respect that. What happened here is only for us to know.”
Lydia snickered. “And all your servants. They’re likely already talking about it.”
“They don’t know it was you if they know anything at all. They work for a smuggling duke. They’re paid exceptionally well for their silence.” Keith feathered a kiss against her lips. “If you still want me when I return, then we’ll decide what happens. But to be clear, Lydia, I will never ask you to be my mistress. That is not something I will consider. Ever. I would never disgrace you by asking or dishonor you by making such an arrangement.”
Lydia nodded, too tongue tied to say anything. He hadn’t proposed or even asked to court her, but she could only assume that’s what he meant. Her visceral reaction was to scream yes, but she wouldn’t until she was clear about his intentions, and he actually asked. She finally gathered her thoughts and responded.
“I could never agree to such. My parents would kill us both.” As Keith listened, he knew only one of them would wind up dead, and it wasn’t the daughter of the baronet and the princess. “I wouldn’t shame my family that way.”
“I know, sweetling. You must go before it grows dark. I detest thinking about you walking alone as often as you do, but especially at night.”
“I know I’m safe during the day.”
“Daylight is no guarantee.”
“But you are. I know you watch me, Keith. I’ve seen you in the window. I didn’t go to the beach nearly as often before we truly met. Even from a distance, I know I’m safe with you.”
“Lydia, I might see someone approach you, but I could never get there fast enough. It’s not my right to tell you what you can and can’t do. I never want to be that controlling, but I wish you wouldn’t be alone so much. It frightens me.”
“You, the Blond Marauder, frightened?” Lydia chuckled, hoping to ease some of his seriousness.
“Terrified, Lyddie. After what happened to Jemma and Ben, I really wish you wouldn’t. He was armed, and I was still able to overpower him because I came with my men. I won’t speak ill of your parents, but I don’t agree with them.”
“Next time you see me down there, look east to the third hillock before the bend. I’m not really alone. I always have an armed groom with me, usually two, so they don’t grow too bored while they wait.”
Keith’s brow furrowed. He’d always scanned the surroundings when she appeared, and he’d seen no one nearby. It’s to that he objected. “I’ve looked, sweetling. I’ve never seen anyone. I’m not convinced they are where you believe.”
“You can’t see the far side from the abbey. But you can on the beach. I promise, I’m not alone.” Lydia stood, and Keith followed. She rose onto her toes and kissed his jaw. Keith gave a resigned nod. He didn’t want to argue, but he was unconvinced. “I won’t go down there without my groom with me while you’re gone. I don’t want to distract you with worry.”
“Thank you, because I would worry. I will anyway, but this eases it a touch.” They walked to the wall with the hidden latch, but Keith remembered why’d she’d originally come to the library. He gathered the book she had selected and brought it to her. “Today was the first time I found you in here. You’re quite stealthy. You come from good smuggling stock. But I suspected you visited. I hoped you would find this. I put it there for you.”
Lydia accepted the book, staring at the cover.
Travels. It’s to remind me of him. That he’s traveled far afield.
She squeezed it to her chest before rising on her toes once more. Keith lifted her off her feet for a final kiss before she slipped into the tunnel, a torch in hand this time.