Chapter 6 #2
It was a cool day, but Edith knew that it was best to keep Tilly’s mind active, or else she would cause unspeakable amounts of mischief. So, before the governess arrived, hide and seek was the game of the morning.
Edith began searching the castle, moving from room to room, but there was no sign of Tilly. She then noticed that the garden door had been opened and was swaying slightly in the summer breeze.
Oh, good heavens.
This simple game had suddenly turned into a much more complex one.
Looking through the rows of bushes and trellises, Edith wondered how mischievous her daughter would be today. Tilly knew she was able to squeeze into small spaces. Edith had heard enough stories from the workhouse to know the spaces Tilly had chosen as hiding spots.
She took a deep breath, refusing to let worry cloud her mind. The next place to search was behind the hedgerow on the east side of the garden, which consisted of a small green space with a pond and some benches.
“Hah!” A shout suddenly sounded from the other side of the hedgerow.
Edith furrowed her brow in disbelief.
Is that… Laurence?
She slowly crept around to the gap in the hedge that allowed egress to the pond.
Standing by the bench, wearing nothing but breeches, was her husband.
The clouds parted, and small shafts of light illuminated his muscular figure.
His movements were precise as he boxed, his muscles tense beneath sweat-slicked skin that was flushed with exertion.
Even his hair was tousled and damp from the effort.
The way he moved and tensed revealed the firmness of his backside under the fabric of his pants. Edith was certain she had seen less musculature on Roman statues.
He stopped for a few moments, panting softly, then turned slightly so she could admire his profile. His cheeks were flushed, beads of sweat glistening like jewels in his beard and on his forehead.
She hid behind the hedgerow, not wanting him to know that she had been peeping. Fanning her face with her hands, she could feel her thoughts turning sinful.
He would not approve of her thinking of him in that manner. She had never thought of her first husband in such a way. Yet something inside her urged her to go to him, push him down, and—
Splash!
She let out a breath of relief when she realized that he had jumped into the pond to cool off and hadn’t spotted her lurking about. She nervously began to walk past the entryway, as if she hadn’t been watching him, but something dark lying on the bench caught her eye.
Those are his breeches.
She gasped and quickly walked away, but the vivid image of his naked body in the pond clung to her and left no room for coherent thought.
The hide-and-seek game she’d been playing with Tilly had vanished from her thoughts. It wasn’t hard for her to find another secluded area of the garden to lean against a tree, fan her cheeks, and calm down. She was a decent and gently bred lady; she couldn’t have these wanton thoughts.
Is it really so bad? He is my husband, after all. The thought of him naked in the water sends bolts of excitement through my loins. My fingers tingle, and I ache to hike up my skirt and end the torment myself.
The distant crack of a twig jolted Edith out of her reverie. The giggle that followed confirmed it was Tilly, off again and heading for the hedgerow.
Edith sprinted after the girl. Laurence would never forgive her if Tilly accidentally saw him in a state of undress. She skidded onto the pathway, and Tilly froze when she saw her. Laurence was still in the pond, immediately to Tilly’s right.
“Tilly! Come here now!” Edith shouted.
Tilly squealed, whirled around, and laughed as she ran. Much to Edith’s relief, the girl chose to head up the path, not to her right.
Thankful that a crisis had been averted, Edith took off after her.
Laurence’s chest heaved with rapid breaths and water droplets as he wrapped the towel around himself with his back to the hedgerow. He had heard Tilly running around and decided it would likely be prudent to make himself scarce.
Seconds later, hot on Tilly’s heels, Edith let out a wild scream and dashed past the pond’s entrance like a woman possessed
He cursed under his breath. This was not how his morning exercise session was meant to go.
He glanced down at his body, his length covered, but the scars twisting across his side and around his shoulder were easily visible. Surely, Edith would have fainted if she had seen them. They were not easy for anyone to see.
He quickly toweled off, leaving his hair damp. Vanity could wait. Right now, he needed speed.
He pulled on his clothes and shoes, then slung the towel over one shoulder.
After stepping out of the hedgerow, he decided to walk back to the castle. Tilly hadn’t run in that direction, and he could lock himself in his study and pretend that the incident had never happened.
A thought struck him as he entered the castle.
Had Edith seen me?
His face flushed in embarrassment. While Tilly couldn’t be quiet to save herself, Edith had enough wits not to implicate herself in a situation.
His heart sank as he realized that she likely hadn’t seen him, because she would have fainted or screamed if she had. Still, the idea that she could have seen him made his pants tighten.
Would she have cared? It wasn’t as if she were an innocent; she couldn’t be, having been married before.
His grip on the towel tightened. The idea of someone else being with Edith made him irrationally angry, although it shouldn’t have. And yet he could not ignore the way it made him clomp up the staircase and slam the door behind him.
He stood motionless in his chambers with his jaw clenched.
He’d known she’d been married before their arrangement. Theirs was meant to be a marriage of convenience only. No love or possessiveness, and certainly no jealousy over the ghost of her dead husband.
His fury vanished as quickly as it had come. In its place was a hollow, gnawing sensation he despised.
Jealousy.
He dragged a hand through his hair. What a small thing for a man of his station to feel. He had never been a man ruled by passion or instinct. Such base desires could easily devolve into cruelty or control.
And yet he could not stop the thought that pulsed through him like blood: she is mine.
He threw the towel across the room.
Blast it all.