Silver Silk Ties (3 page)

Felton was elated. One hurdle covered. "Turn and face
the wall, Araminta."

****

He didn't even notice he had
injected a tone of command in his voice
, Ara thought with an inward smile as she
nibbled her bottom lip. She had immediately, and her body responded
accordingly. Her skin felt too tight, and prickled with awareness. His scent,
that earthy, musky smell of aroused male filled her. She would obey. It had
been too long since a man she yearned for had spoken to her thus. Despite that,
she had no intentions of making it easy for him. Why she had the need to push
him out of his easy center and make him off kilter she didn't analyze.
Possibly because she could not find hers?
Ara lowered her
eyes in case he saw the devilment she was certain showed in them. Her late
husband had often said she had no guiles and was unable to hide her emotions.
Well, George, you should see how I have
changed this last twelvemonth or so.

"Yes, my lord." She spoke the words in a different
manner to her usual mode of addressing him, and turned her back to study the
wall.

"It is a very nice wall is it not?
A
superior stone.
Well treated. It should last for centuries." His
chuckle fanned the nape of her neck. The sound and the cool breeze he created
on her neck made her shake. He noticed.

"Cold or awareness, my dear?
A mixture of both do you
think?" He bit her neck, a small nip that contracted her quim. "Why
did I not see this side of you?"

"Perchance you chose not to bother," she said, her
words running into each other in her haste to be heard. "You saw a widow,
not in the first flush of youth, still of child bearing age and one not likely
to trouble you or your chosen life style." All the bitterness of the past
flew months tumbled out. "You didn't look past that. Well, why should you?"
She knew she sounded bitter. She was. "Did it never occur to you just why
I accepted your offer? I had no need to. I was wealthy in my own right, welcome
in all the best establishments, and led a fulfilling life. I had no need of a
husband. Especially one who declared he would not bother me except in the
necessity of an heir. Not a pleasant picture to me. But still, I agreed."

He said nothing. Ara studied the indentations in the stones
and then closed her eyes in despair. What had she done?
But my words had to be spoken.
The soft cloth placed over her eyes
came as a surprise. For a brief moment, she had forgotten why she was standing
as she was.

"Can you see?" His tone was even. If he was
annoyed by her impassioned outburst, he wasn't showing it.

"Araminta?
If your errand is as urgent
as you say, we have no time to loose. Answer me."

What will he do if I do not?
Will he chastise me here and now? Dare I risk that when I am on a mission?
She knew she could not. Already
too much time had been wasted.

"I can see nothing, my lord." Still she said those
words in a way to show subservience.

"Good girl." Her rump was patted, Ara assumed by
him.
As if I am a horse
, she thought
indignantly.

"I am putting a plain cloak around you, in case your
pelisse is recognizable," he said, giving her an explanation for his
actions. "As it is, it will be thought I am at last breaking my rules.
When our nuptials are announced 'twil be the gossip of the town. Can you handle
that?"

"Why not?
I have handled worse.
Marrying George was neither expected nor liked. I was too old, too outspoken,
too everything.
 
If it is thought my
husband has to take a subservient because I cannot hold him, why should I care?
As long as it is not true."
She held her breath.
This was it. She had laid her cards on the table. Apart from telling him
chapter and verse, she could say no more.

A heavy weight of cloth covered her, and she gasped as he
pulled the hood over her hair. Now, at the most all anyone would see of her was
her chin.

He leaned into her and, for a brief moment, the contours of
his body were hard up against her. His cock, rigid and long pulsed briefly
against her crack before he moved away. To her amazement, she felt deserted.

"I think it could be true.
That I
have
taken a subservient.
Not because
my wife cannot hold me.
Because I want to hold her."

Chapter Three

Those simple words were her undoing. She sagged and would
have fallen if he had not held her. Was she once more to experience those
sublime feelings she had thought lost to her?

"Then, my lord, I can but pray it will come to pass.
And now Jeremy?"

 
His sigh reverberated
through her as his body moved and brushed close. "Ah yes, Willingham. Let
me escort you. This will be your first act of total trust, Araminta. I am about
to lift you over my shoulder. I guarantee I will make sure you are decorous and
covered. Not for us the baring of you for all to see. What is mine is ours and
nothing more. Do you agree?"

"Oh, yes, my lord."
With her sincere reply, a lot
of her worries rolled away. She may want to be his and do as he wanted. Nevertheless,
Ara
knew she was no exhibitionist. Submit in private
was something she would do willingly. In spite of her worries about her
brother, the thought of what she may experience sent her pulse spiraling and
her juices running.

 
Her world spun as, with
one swift movement, he lifted her and swung her over his shoulder. Her skin
tingled and her insides turned to molten lava as he caressed her arse with slow
sensual strokes. Her head bobbed with each step he took.

I hope this does not take too
long, or I may share my luncheon with his back. Afterwards I must tell him not
to call me by my given name. It hurts me so.

"Araminta, take heed I am climbing."

She had to speak. She could not ignore her hated name any
longer. "My
lord, I beg of you, desist
in that
name. I am Ara, not my given name. Araminta is not me. It is my childish
persona and causes me to think of things best forgotten. I do not wish to be
reminded of that sad person." She swallowed rapidly to try to dispel the
queasiness that was about to engulf her. "I need to say, I fear whatever
you have planned will not occur unless you cease spinning me. I am ready to be
ill.
Very, very ill."
She could see stars. And a
large hole to swallow her.

His bark of astonished laughter should have reassured her.
Instead, it made
Ara
angry. So angry her sickness
abated and she wanted no more than to give him a piece of her mind. He was a
moron. A male gonad-thinking moron! For once she thanked her book reading. An
epistle on male organs and the male mind had her laughing and agreeing. Men thought
with their cocks!

To her pleasure, the spinning stopped as he opened a door,
closed it, and her feet touched the ground with a gentle insistent pressure.
Ara swayed as he removed the cloth from her eyes, and the room spun. Shards of
light hit her un-blinkered eyes and she closed them again in a hurry. Felton
guided her to a comfortable day bed and helped her sit. Cautiously, she opened
her eyes a little and was relieved to find the room stable and the light now
soft and comforting.

 
"I will arrange
for
water,
and refreshments for you," he said
quietly. "And see if Jeremy is here." He turned to the door, and
spoke to someone outside. His voice was low, and strain as she might, she could
not decipher his words.

Ara
stared at his back. It was a
mighty fine back, but she was in no mood to either admit to her thoughts, or
admire it. "Felton," she said earnestly. "I know he is here.
Every Tuesday and Friday without fail.
And to my chagrin, I
admit I have had him followed. He is here. And he needs to be at father's deathbed.
I—" Her voice broke. "I am nothing to our father. I defied him to marry
George. Therefore, I do not signify.
But Jeremy?
He
must appear. Why should he be denied his heritage, just because he had not yet
met his mate? 'Tis not fair."

"Life rarely is." Felton closed the door and
turned to her. He spoke in a somber voice. "I agree with you. We must find
your brother. I have set the wheels in motion. Do you trust me to discharge
this task?"

What? He is asking?

"Why?" she asked curious to his motive. "Why
ask not inform me? You have never asked anything of me before."

"I asked for your hand in marriage," Felton
pointed out.

"And told me you would not bother me except to begat an
heir," Ara said, stung he considered it comparable. "You walked into
my life, told me you wanted me and George had given you his blessing before he
passed away. Proceeded to map out a life so lacking of involvement, 'tis a
wonder I agreed."

"Why did you?" he asked. He sounded, she thought,
annoyed, yet truly interested.

"To that, I still wonder," Ara said. "However,
now is not the time to talk of such
things.
" She
had received a missive from her late husband detailing his requests and reasons
why she should at least listen to Felton. Even though he had long gone, she took
George’s plea seriously. "Yes, I will trust you. For myself I care not if
my father rots in hell, which if there is any justice in this world, he will
do. But Jeremy is another matter. Why should he be vilified for his choice of
lifestyle?"

"A lifestyle, which, if proven, is punishable by death,"
Felton said in an even voice. A complicated series of knocks sounded hollow on
the door. The tattoo caused Felton to raise one eyebrow, but he did not explain.
Damn him. I am taut with anxiety and he
chooses to ignore it?
In spite of that, she chose not to comment. Some
things were better left unaddressed.

"Pah,
if
proven. Are you saying that anyone here would report a fellow member? Surely
everything that happens under this roof could, if one chose, to be called perverted?
No, Father cannot accept anyone who does not want to follow his diktat. And of
course my cousin Stanley has fanned the flames and encouraged Father in his beliefs
that Jeremy is not a fit and worthy heir. Luckily, the entail is sewn up
tightly, but the rest?" She shrugged. All of a sudden panic filled her.
"Please, we must get him to go. Kidnap him if necessary."

Felton laughed. "There is no need. He is being escorted
to your father's side as we speak. The knocks," he said, and then expanded
his explanation "They told me so. I have left instructions not to be
disturbed except by that confirmation. No one will bother us here. I have
arranged for Leyton to go with him. And now you know your brother is on his
way, we can talk."

Ara was curious. "He went willingly?"

Felton smiled. His eyes crinkled.
Her pulse raced. The look smoldering in them was enough to make
her legs go weak. If he had at that moment demanded anything of her, she would
have given it willingly.

 
Oh, sweet Lord, I want him. I want to be with
him as a woman should, and acquiesce to every demand. Pray it happens soon.

Felton was still speaking.

"Not exactly.
I believe some persuasion was
necessary. Something along the lines of it would hurt you if he did not attend.
I believe his answer was, ‘Well at least if I can see the bastard die, we will
know he is no longer around to haunt us.’"

The relief that coursed through her was immeasurable. Ara
felt lightheaded and her eyes were moist. She brushed the tears away.
"Thank you. I am forever in your debt."

"Ah, Ara, no.
I feel I am in yours. I seem
to have been laboring under a misapprehension. We need to talk." His look sent
shivers down her spine and moisture to coat her thighs. She was not sure if it
promised retribution or compassion. Whichever, it affected her equilibrium like
nothing else had.

The tingle in her spine vied with the thumping of her heart
to increase her awareness of him. His essence filled her. It was that
indefinable smell of masterful, dominant male. That scent had first drawn her
to him.

 
After coming out of
mourning, Ara had no problems in leading a quiet life. A deathbed promise to
her husband had made it impossible. George had made her swear not to retire to
the country before she had a twelvemonth in the ton. To live, as he put it, the
sort of life the ton followed. This, he reasoned, would give her the chance to
see what lifestyle she wished to follow. At the end of the twelvemonth, Felton
had approached her, and her solicitor had handed her George's letter.

Ara had not thought for one moment it would mean another
marriage. To one she thought would let her enjoy the lifestyle she craved. For
him to treat her like spun glass, shun her
very
improper advances as if he had not seen them, was bad enough. For him then
to propose their marriage and leave her on their wedding night was beyond all
comprehension.