Sybrina wondered if her imminent betrothal was perhaps a figment of her imagination because she had heard not a single word from the Earl himself, nor had she caught sight of him since the soirée five days ago. Oh it would be wonderful if the marriage was not going to take place. Perhaps he got cold feet. Perhaps he’s enjoying his trysts with the duchess so much, he does not wish to take a wife, especially one who has no experience and would not know how to please him like the duchess does. Sybrina could just imagine the duchess’s slender naked body slithering around __.

‘Lady Carisbrooke, a groom of Lord Cavendish has come with a message and the Earl awaits your response,’ Harriet broke into her thoughts.

‘Does he now?’ Sybrina’s brows shot up angrily as she wiped her hands down her pinafore. ‘So what is the message?’ Sybrina could not resist asking as she swiped a strand of hair from her face, leaving a smudge of cake flour on her cheek.

‘The groom insists he has instructions to deliver it to you personally,’ Harriet relayed with a probing look.

Mail was often received by whoever answered the door and left for Sybrina or Mother Agnes’ attention on the receiving table outside the sunny parlour. Curiosity overtaking her completely Sybrina rushed to meet the groom. Perhaps he’s come to his senses and is withdrawing his offer. So why was she feeling that tiny bit of an angst, if he was calling it off? No she was not, she was happy to have her life all to herself again.

As Sybrina entered the waiting room, she observed it was the same groom that had delivered the Countess’s letter on the previous occasion. He looked over Sybrina with a disdainful look, noting her plain work clothes, wisps of hair out of place on either side of her cheek and the smudge of cake flour still on her face. Clearly he did not approve of the Earl’s choice of a bride.

The Countess had groomed him well!

‘Good morning Sandler,’ Sybrina greeted politely, her shoulders ramrod straight as she looked him in the eye.

His eyes widened as if expecting Sybrina to scowl and growl like somebody who had no manners.

‘Er__good morning Lady Carisbrooke. My lord, has instructed I give this personally in your hand and report back to him,’ the groom handed her a sealed letter, waxed with the Cavendish emblem.

Sybrina took the letter and carefully opened it, watchful to school the expression on her face. As she opened it, she got a very feint whiff of the scent of the Earl. She admired his sturdy strong neat hand strokes. The way he addressed her almost made her blush, until Sybrina quickly remembered he was not there, and his groom was going to report back to him. She put on her most studious expression that came naturally when she raked over the books of the orphanage that never balanced, because they always owed more than the funds that came in. The note read,

“My Sweet, Sybrina.

How I miss looking into your beautiful eyes, as it is many days since we were together.

Do you miss me My Sweet?”

NO I don’t!

But the rapid beat of her heart was contradictory to the vehement denial her mind spoke.

“Tomorrow, you and I are going to London for three days My Sweet. We shall lodge at my estate there. You are most welcome to bring your chaperone and any other maids that you will require. Pack some evening wear, as we will be attending some socials and musicales in the ton.

Forever yours Alexander”

Sybrina read the letter for a second time, indifferent to the presence of the waiting groom, anger rising within her. The gall of the man! He was not asking, but instructing. Again!

What if I have plans?

Not that she had anything scheduled, but still he should not be so presumptuous.

“Forever Yours.”

For reasons she could not substantiate, her heart began to pitter patter as she noted the way he’d ended the letter.

‘Thank you Sandler,’ Sybrina held the door opened for him to exit and did not offer any response to the groom. He blinked his eyes in surprise but was smart enough to deduce when he was being dismissed. He nodded and took his leave.

So he thinks he can just order me around?

Sybrina went back to the kitchen and quietly continued with the baking of bread and the rest of the chores she had to finish for the day. After helping to attend to all the children, Sybrina treated herself to a luxurious bath and slid into bed.

The following morning after seeing to everybody’s breakfast, and having a light meal herself, she went into Father Timothy’s office to finish the paperwork and accounts she had not had the time to complete the previous day, when an unmistakable voice spoke from the doorway.

‘I was informed you had personally received my letter.’

Sybrina looked up to see the Earl standing at the doorway, one elegant gloved hand held onto the handle.

Does he ever dress down?

Again, this morning he was impeccably dressed, looking very much the man about town. Sybrina wondered why he had not been asked to wait in the receiving room until she was called out to meet him there. Perhaps he’d bullied his way here.

‘Good morning my lord,’ Sybrina greeted and continued to busy herself with the paperwork.

‘My lady why are you not dressed for our trip?’ He noted her work clothes and with deliberate exaggeration, he dipped his hand into his waistcoat and studied his timepiece.

‘You’re in a hurry to be somewhere, my lord?’ she questioned with saccharine sweetness.

The Earl glared at her with a look that had made lesser men turn and run in the opposite direction, but it had no effect on her whatsoever as she folded her arms across her chest and glared right back at him.

‘Sybrina, you are aware we were to leave to London this morning. Pray tell me what games you are playing?’ He was losing all patience with her.

‘I do not recall being asked, my lord,’ she stood up challengingly.

Her mouth was a tight defiant line, but she silently prayed he would not notice her nervous anxiety at challenging him. Neither did she want him to see in her eyes, how affected she was by his overwhelming presence in Father Tim’s small office.

A smile appeared on his face, his brows lowered, so she could not see his eyes as he slowly walked towards her. Sybrina was tempted to step backwards. Another part of her brain urged her to push past him and escape, but she stood still, rooted to the spot. She was unable to move a single muscle in any direction, her eyes were trained on him, even if the place was on fire, she knew nothing could make her run away from his magnetic presence.

‘So I should have extended an invitation?’ he spoke softly, as he closed the gap completely between them.

Sybrina swallowed nervously feeling totally threatened by his too close proximity.

‘I dance to my own tune, you had better know it,’ Sybrina whispered, ‘and I __am not your wife... yet.’

‘And why do I get the feeling, that even when you are my wife,’ his fingers lightly brushed against her throat, causing the pulse to beat there wildly, ‘that you will still dance to your own tune.’

Her eyes were locked on his, as much as she tried to drag them away, they refused to cooperate. Her eyelids were drooping, refusing to stay opened, wanting to shut, so they could savour his sweet caress, whilst the rest of her senses explored the frisson of sensations exploding all over her body. She clenched her fists tightly at her side, willing her tempted hands to stay down, when all they wanted to do was wrap around his neck. When his head lowered, she was unable to offer any resistance, and his lips softly touched hers. It was sweet torture as his warm lips caressed over hers, running over her upper lip in the most seductive manner.

Sybrina did not know when all resistance had crumbled, as her finger tips delighted in getting lost in his hair. She heard him groan loudly, as he took possession of her mouth. She kissed him back, her palms cupping his cheeks to keep him in position as she hungrily returned his kisses. Her curious thumb again went to investigate at the irresistible scar on his cheek. She lightly moved her lips to it, and pressed a soft kiss on the scar.

‘Sybrina,’ a guttural sound escaped his throat.

‘Yes,’ she whispered just as huskily.

‘Please go with me to London,’ he pleaded.

She stopped kissing him, her hands fell to her sides. Was that seduction just to get her to say yes? She took a step back, but when she looked into his eyes, all she saw was naked desire, and no indication of any gloating victory.

‘Okay, my lord,’ she breathed and was thrilled to see the surprised delight on his face.

‘Thank you my sweet,’ he jerked her into his arms, and this time his kiss was not gentle but demandingly possessive.

‘I think this is precisely what got us into trouble in the first place my lord,’ Sybrina pulled away.

‘You are my betrothed now, surely we cannot get into any more trouble,’ he urged pulling her back into his arms.

‘My lord, I think you know it very well, that what we are doing is totally inappropriate.’

‘You are so beautiful, I can’t keep my hands off you,’ his rasping voice claimed. ‘You have the most enchanting eyes, and your sweet rosy lips beg for my kisses.’

‘My lord, you are most impertinent!’ she pushed him away.

He laughed softly, cupping her cheeks, and readying her for another onslaught of his kisses.

‘Kiss me one more time and I will release you,’ he bartered.

‘Father Tim could walk in at any second,’ she pleaded.

‘Best you hurry with that kiss then’ he negotiated.

She knew she was fighting a losing battle against his determined stance as well as her traitorous body, and reluctantly stood on tip toe and offered her lips to him. He ravished her, his expert fingers gliding over her body, weakening her resolve. When his magical fingers, erotically brushed at the silk bodice covering her bosom, she cried out. She knew she was losing control. She knew she was yielding to his expertise, without much effort from him at all. She had to stop him, this is exactly the way this rake got every woman into his bed.

Remember the duchess is still his lover.

As if somebody had thrown a bucket of ice cold water over her, immediately she pulled away, and banked the desire flooding her body. His eyes questioned the sudden change in her. She quietly spoke these words.

‘Somebody could walk in. Give me leave to go and pack,’ she whispered.

‘No.’

‘No?’ she repeated

‘Harriet enquired if she was to pack your luggage and hers into my phaeton?’ he grinned.

‘That girl does not know her place,’ Sybrina jeered, as her cheeks blushed a bright pink.

‘And you needed to teach me a lesson hmm,’ he murmured against her ear.

‘I meant what I said earlier my lord. I will not be ordered about.’

‘Point taken, Lady Carisbrooke,’ he bowed like a gentleman, ‘now how about you go put some pretty riding habit on hmm,’ he playfully smacked her bottom.

Sybrina shrieked and jumped at his endearing action. He should not have taken such liberties, but she could not deny, it had thrilled and excited her, but she quickly escaped before she embarrassed herself.

If Sybrina was looking forward to her fiancé sharing the coach of his phaeton with her, she was bitterly disappointed, for he courteously handed her inside, then pulled out a velvet covering and draped it around her legs, for it was a cool morning. He then proceeded to assist Harriet in, tipped his hat to them and hopped on next to the groom and took over the reign of his greys.

Sybrina did not understand the dull ache that filled around her heart. She tried to get rid of it by engaging in a conversation with Harriet, but it was Alexander’s voice she wanted to hear. It was Alexander’s sharp wit she wanted challenging her own. It was him she wanted sitting opposite her so she could steal glances at his handsome face. She secretly wished she could have had the pleasure of his company during the long trip to London.

What is this nonsense? Since when was she interested in anything about Lord Arrogance?

The Earl sliced his whip in the air as he demanded more speed from his greys, skillfully manoeuvring them through the winding road. He was in a foul mood for he regretted his decision to sit with his groom in the front of his phaeton. He would much rather be sitting opposite Sybrina, enjoying scintillating conversation with her and challenging her views and raising her heckles on subjects she had passionate views about. He could not trust himself to be still in her presence, when he wanted to ravish her with his lips and taste every delectable inch of her slender body. Angrily he sliced the whip in the air again, and ignored his groom who was giving him questioning looks.

The Earl was never irresponsible with his phaeton, and nobody could ever lay a charge at the Earl for being cruel to his animals. After some hours of riding, the Earl found a shady spot under some trees near a river and stopped, knowing the greys needed some rest and a drink of water.

‘My lady,’ the Earl helped Sybrina down to stretch her legs. ‘We will rest the horses awhile here under those shady trees,’ he spoke gruffly. ‘Chef has prepared some refreshments for you, ‘he handed her a picnic hamper. ‘Have some while I give the horses a drink,’ he hurriedly walked away.

You’re so hot and cold. So annoying.

Sybrina silently seethed, wanting to hit him over the head with his food hamper.

‘What about you my lord?’ she spoke politely.

‘I’ve had a decent breakfast,’ he mumbled. ‘I will be all right till we get to London.’

Sybrina spread out the mat and served a portion of sandwiches, cold beef slices and fruit for Harriet and then another portion for Sandler. Totally astonished at being served by the Lady, he was about to refuse, when he caught the eye of the Earl cautioning him not to decline Sybrina’s kind gesture.

‘Thank you my lady,’ Sandler bowed profusely, his face brightening like a beetroot.

After Sybrina poured a beaker of wine for Harriet and Sandler, she left them to eat and walked away toward the opposite direction of where the Earl was feeding his horses, and gently brushing them down. She walked around a thicket of bushes, found a large boulder near the river and sat on it. She could feel the Earls’ eyes boring into her back, even though she had not given him a glance since he escaped with the horses, but hell if he could not stand her company and had no desire to have a meal with her then she very well did not need his chef’s tantalising delights even if her stomach rumbled with hunger.

‘Is something the matter my sweet?’ the Earl sat down next to her.

‘Whatever could make you think that?’ she asked sweetly, yet her eyes glared at him.

‘You’re not having any luncheon,’ he accused.

‘Neither are you,’ she countered.

He was so close to her, their shoulders brushed. He smelt of freshness, the wash of fresh air. The mid afternoon sunshine glittered across his skin, and made his hair glow attractively. She longed to run her fingers through his unruly hair.

‘Will you tell me my lady, what is causing you to sulk?’

‘I do not sulk my lord. If you have no desire for __ for my company or do not wish to share a meal with me, then I do not wish to do justice to your chef’s efforts.’

‘And that is not sulking my sweet?’ he teased seductively, as he slipped his fingers through hers, aware that company prevented him doing so much more that he desired to do.

She lowered her head, having no suitable rebuttal to offer. Her fingers thrilled at being clasped to his, but she dare not give him any indication of that. No, he was not to know that she longed, craved for and delighted for his mere touch.

‘Suppose I tell you I delight in the pleasure of your company, and I want nothing more right this minute than to share a meal with you,’ he murmured huskily.

‘Then I would say you are a liar my lord,’ her angry eyes speared hers.

For only a second his eyes left hers as he picked up the plate to his side and placed it on her lap. Sybrina gasped as she saw the plated filled with tasty delights enough for two people. She dragged her eyes up to his and found his teasing eyes awaiting hers.

‘Now do you believe me,’ he murmured, spearing a cube of cheese and lifting it to her mouth.

Automatically her lips parted, as her mouth accepted the cheese. Still gazing into his eyes, she chewed, moved it to the left of her mouth, then to the right and finally swallowed. He lifted a beaker to her lips and allowed her to sip some refreshing wine.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, then proceeded to follow his example. She speared a chunky piece of chicken and fed it into his mouth. They were still gazing into each others’ eyes as his mouth chewed industriously. Sybrina lifted the beaker to his mouth. His hands clasped over hers around the stem. Every nerve frissioned and bubbled with excitement all through her body. She tilted the beaker and he helped himself to a huge mouthful. He lowered the beaker, but his hand still stayed clasped over hers around the stem. In a moment of madness Sybrina reached up and pressed her lips to his. She could taste the delicious wine on his lips. Her lips slowly brushed over his igniting a fire between them.

‘Alexander,’ she cried out.

‘God’s teeth Sybrina, we are being chaperoned!’

Ah propriety, damn propriety!

‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled.

‘Don’t be, I wanted that just as much as you,’ he replied gruffly. ‘Let’s finish our luncheon and hurry to my London estate,’ his eyes held hers with promise.