Chapter 37 #2
They had no need to stay any longer. Agnes couldn’t wait to begin her life. She picked up Harry’s letter case and put her hand on his shoulder.
Harry stopped at the door of the parlor. “I will send my own solicitor over to finalize the inheritance, Lord Skelton, and then you will need to find a new accountant. There is no need for any of us to see you again.”
“You’re fired anyway, Mr. Evans. Take your gang of misfits out of my home. Morty, you have until I get back from my club to leave.” He stormed past Harry and up the stairs. From below, they heard screams, shattering glass, and furniture sliding against the floor.
“Morty.” Harry addressed the butler. “I’m expanding my business offices to cover both London and York now.” He gave Agnes a tentative glance. She nodded. That sounded perfect to her. “I’m sure I’d be able to find employment for you somewhere.”
“I appreciate that, sir. I can’t say I will miss working for that man.”
“Quick.” Harry pulled Agnes up the stairs to his bachelor lodgings. The landlady would be angry if she knew Harry was bringing a woman up to his room, although she might turn a blind eye for him. He was her favorite tenant, after all.
“This one,” he whispered, pushing her into the door, shielding her with his body while he put in his key and turned the lock. He had to get her in his bed, although then his neighbors would be privy to the fact that he had brought a guest. She was nowhere near quiet enough.
Agnes walked inside, grabbing his face. “Harry. I’m still trembling. I think that was one of the most dramatic moments of my life. I feel exhilarated. It’s over now.”
“No, it’s just beginning.” He pulled her into him, kissing her with all the love he could pour through his lips. Other than waiting, there was nothing that stood in the way now. He had done it. They had done it, with the help of the people who cared for them both.
“Can we still keep the new apothecary?” Her eager expression was so damn beautiful.
“Yes, of course. I told you, it’s yours to do with what you want.”
“I’ve been thinking that more space would allow me to train others in my work. I could help more people. There are so many ways we can use it even though we are keeping the Bootham house.”
“We?”
“Yes . . .” she said, a blush overtaking her face. “If you’re willing to move in with me. Of course, once all of this”—she waved her hands over her black veil and dress—“is completed and we are married.”
Harry laughed. He had never needed his name over some business’s door. This was what it was like to have purpose, to have goals in life that inspired him to live. “Do you think Ward will accept me living there?”
“I promise he has warmed up to you. What did you do to him, anyway?”
“I don’t know if I will ever understand. And what about Bram?”
“Hmm . . . that might be a challenge. Perhaps you shouldn’t.” She gave him a saucy little wink.
“I’ll talk to him about it, man to man. But does he have to share the bed with us?”
“Harry Evans, you can’t possibly be serious about kicking a poor, defenseless creature from his bed.”
She laughed, and he bit her lip. Her teasing always brought out the most delicious desires from him.
With a curiosity, she explored his rooms before approaching his desk.
“Wow, Harry. This is magnificent,” she said, looking into the terrariums. Illustrations he had drawn to detail the silk of the cocoons were laid out on his desk.
“I can’t believe you take such lovely notes.
The way you’ve captured the texture is fascinating.
I should have you do the plant sketches for my records. They’re never this detailed.”
“I would love to,” Harry replied. Any way he could feed her success, he would. He would be the man behind the woman who brought relief and good health to people’s lives.
She picked up an illustration, looking at it more closely, and then her gaze fell to the red journal sitting atop his desk. “Are there more in here?” She reached out to open the journal, but he grabbed it quickly. Hurt marred her face.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be looking through your things. They’re private.” She still stared at the journal in his hands, and a frown broke her smile.
“No, I’m sorry. I don’t want to keep secrets from you, but this is just embarrassing.”
She looked up. He was relieved that she hadn’t shut him out. They were well past that now. “You don’t have to tell me.”
His hands didn’t shake, but he felt the nerves about to surface. He didn’t want secrets between them and didn’t want to feel as if he were always hiding this. “Promise you won’t be horrified?”
She smirked. “You must show me before I can make any promises.”
He opened the journal, flipping through the pages while speaking.
“This is where I keep my notes about my employers. Personal things I learn about them that help me understand their minds better. It’s helped me become a confidant to many of England’s peers.
They crave that personal touch, and honestly, I like learning about the people I work with. ”
“Why is that embarrassing? I keep notes about my patrons as well.”
“One moment.” He flipped to the pages he was worried for her to find. “Well, this began as an entry for your husband . . .” He met her eyes. She waited with beautiful patience. He took a deep breath. “But then it became about you.”
Her lips parted, and she looked down at the page. He waited as she read all the details he had recorded about her for over five years. “How do you know all of these things?” There wasn’t horror in her voice like he had expected. Instead there was a fascination.
“Richard spoke of you often, and I was captivated. It turns out you’re even more enchanting than I could have ever predicted from his stories.
” He tentatively put his arms around her waist, judging her reaction.
“Are you repulsed that I’ve been mildly obsessed with you all these years?
Thinking about you, trying to create an image of who the elusive Witch of York really was? ”
“Repulsed? Why would I be horrified to find out my betrothed has yearned for me?” She nibbled along his jaw, then kissed to soothe the bitten skin. The thrill of having confronted Skelton, of securing Agnes’s future, their future, was quickly transforming into an insatiable want.
“I need you, but Mrs. Hammons, the landlady, is quite strict. You’re going to have to be quieter than you usually are. Much quieter.”
Feigning innocence, his love said, “Am I not usually quiet? I didn’t know a little noise was so displeasing to you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself to his body. She would be able to feel exactly how aroused he was.
“It is absolutely pleasing to me, but I’m rather fond of having a roof over my head while we wait for your mourning period to be over.”
“I guess I’ll try. And Harry, I’ve started taking some herbs for women who wish to postpone pregnancy. I was wondering if . . .” She closed her mouth abruptly, looking away with shyness.
“If I want to spend in you?”
“Yes, that. It sounds terribly vulgar, but also terribly romantic, in a way.”
“And terribly seductive. Damn, Agnes.” His lips clashed with hers as they yanked off each other’s clothing. A button or two clattered to the floor. There was no telling if the buttons belonged to him or to her, but it was inconsequential.
He spun her around, pushing her back against the door. Her petticoats were still on, but he didn’t care. He wanted to be suffocated in her scent and consumed by her arousal. On his knees, he hooked her leg over his shoulder and inhaled. Earthy, just like her.
He lifted her skirts off his head and looked up at her. “Remember, Agnes. Try not to get me evicted.” She returned a mischievous smile. “Bite your hand if you have to,” he said and then dived back under.
The noises she made in an attempt to hold back were even more seductive, but the privilege she had granted him made him eager to maintain control. He would not come before he could spill his seed into her.
He feasted until her moan was loud enough to wake any sleeping neighbors. Hopefully they would not tattle on him.
“Sorry,” she said, with a voice too sultry to be an actual apology. He kissed her long and hard.
“I’m ready Harry. Fill me and make me yours.”
“You’re already mine, and I give myself to you.”