Maid for Scandal (3 page)

“No, my dear.” He gave her a rakish smile. “It will be mine.”

The rest of the morning passed in a rosy haze. Anna scrubbed and swept without complaint, for Giles had kissed her. Although… clearly there had been something unsatisfactory about it, at least to him. She hated to have disappointed him so. What had she done wrong?

The question grew, blazing, until it was a fire scorching her. What had she done wrong? What?

It was a welcome distraction when Cook sent her out to the dairy for more cheese. As she circled the building, something in the woods beyond caught her eye.

A large, dark shape was moving through the trees. Fear flashed through her, but before it could settle under her skin, she realized she was seeing a horse. Without a rider—which likely meant it had gotten loose.

Last summer, her mare, Isolde, had escaped, and she had suffered hours of stomach-knotting worry before her mount had finally been found. Perhaps she could catch this wayward horse, and save someone else that same pain. Anna moved closer to the trees, careful to keep her movements deliberate.

Why, it was Windsor—the horse she had met yesterday. His black bulk was unmistakable. He snorted when he saw her, and stepped back a pace, but at least he didn’t bolt. A lead rope dragged on the ground, attached to his halter, but he wore no saddle. Thank goodness he hadn’t thrown his rider and gone galloping off.

“Well now, Windsor,” she said in a soft voice. “What are you doing out here alone? I’m certain they’re looking for you.”

Watching her with wary brown eyes, Windsor sidled away. She stepped forward again, still speaking quiet nonsense. The horse shivered this time, but stood still.

Drat—if only she had an apple in her pocket to offer. Instead, she bent and pulled up a handful of long-stemmed grasses. Nothing the horse couldn’t get for himself, but some creatures liked the attention of being offered food, nearly as well as the treat itself.

Luckily for her, Windsor was a curious one. His soft black ears pricked forward, and he took a hesitant step forward. Anna stood still and held her palm out flat, offering the grasses for his inspection. Just a little closer… then she felt the tickle of horse-lips and a gust of warm air as Windsor whiffled up the grass.

It was a simple thing to give his nose a pat, then catch the lead rope. “Good lad. Let’s go find the stables now, shall we?”

He blew out a breath, as if he disagreed. Still, he let Anna lead him out of the trees. She held the rope firmly, in case he changed his mind, and glanced about until she sighted the stables. There seemed to be a great deal of hubbub there—people gesturing and running about. As she approached, leading her new friend, the stable-hands caught sight of her and began calling out urgently. A figure emerged from the shadowed building and strode toward her. He looked vaguely familiar…

Ah, it was the groom she had met yesterday. When he reached her, she found that his eyes were the same startling shade of green she had remembered.

“Have you lost something?” she asked. “I found this fellow wandering about in the woods.”

He gave her a curious look. “Why were you in the woods, little bird?”

“I was on my way to the dairy, if you must know. And my name is Anna.” It was forward of her, but she truly didn’t think the rules of proper introduction were as important among the lower classes. Were they?

“Thank you for retrieving Windsor,” he said, holding out his hand for the rope. “The boys who let him slip away were in a panic—but I think our lad here was just trying to go home.”

“Home?” She let him take the horse from her. “Doesn’t he belong here?”

“He does now.” The man didn’t look quite pleased at the fact.

“Oh, is he is Gile—er— Mr. Wildering’s new horse?”

“He is.” He called one of the stable-boys over and handed him the lead. “Take better care of him, this time.”

“We’re right sorry, Sir Jonathan. It won’t happen again.” The boy led the black horse away.

“Now then, Anna.” The man set his hands on his hips. “I’ll see you back to the house.”

“But I—”

“I insist. Besides, I owe you a favor for returning Windsor.” He fell into step beside her.

Anna glanced up him. Although he was not truly handsome, there was something rather masculine about him. He looked like—well, like the kind of man who would know the answer to the question that had been burning in her thoughts all day.

A curious sense of freedom winged through her. This man knew nothing of her or her station in life. She was free to ask him anything. And he had said he owed her a favor.

“Mr., er…” All she knew was his given name. She rubbed the hem of her apron between her fingers.

“Simply Jonathan, if you please.” His eyes were very green, looking into hers. “Yes?”

The words tumbled out in a rush, before she could consider them too carefully. “Do you know a great deal about kissing?”

His eyebrows rose. “Is that the favor you’d like? A kiss?”

“Oh, no! I didn’t mean that at all.” She dropped her gaze and fiercely studied the pathway beneath her feet. “An explanation would be quite sufficient.”

“Ah.” There was a wealth of amusement in his voice. “An explanation. Of kissing.”

“Yes.” Heat blazed in her cheeks, but she must know. She simply could not disappoint Giles again. “I would like to understand some of the particulars, you see.”

“Why don’t you tell me what your experience is? I don’t want to shock you.”

She glanced up. “Can kisses truly be shocking?”

“Indeed.” Wicked knowledge gleamed in his eyes. “But we digress. What kind of kissing would you like to know about, Anna?”

“The usual kind?” Goodness, she couldn’t conceive what else he might be referring to. “You know. Where a gentleman—er, man—presses his mouth to a woman’s.”

She couldn’t help it—her gaze fell to his lips. They looked surprisingly soft in contrast to his hewn features.

He nodded. “Yes. Go on.”

“Go on? I mean… what more is there, beyond the lips coming together?” She twisted the corner of her apron around her fingers.

This, then, was what had disappointed Giles so—the something more. Whatever it might be. Oh, she did so want to please him! And she was protected by her disguise. As far as Jonathan knew, she was a simple country maid asking… well, asking a terribly awkward question, but there was no going back now.

One of Jonathan’s eyebrows crept up, though his voice did not reveal any surprise. “I see the nature of your problem.”

“You do? Oh, but that is marvelous.” She had been right to ask him, no matter how forward it made her seem. Maids were forward, weren’t they? “Please tell me—what happens next?”

“Well. When the lips meet, that is often merely the beginning of the kiss. It deepens.” He gave her a level look. “The parties involved open their mouths. And touch tongues.”

She halted and stared up at him. “What? That sounds dreadful.”

“It’s not dreadful,” he said. “Rather the opposite.”

She shook her head. Was this what Giles had been trying to do with her? It was unfathomable.

“Well,” she said, uncomfortably aware of the primness of her tone. “Thank you very much. For explaining.”

He threw back his head and laughed, a full-throated sound. “An explanation doesn’t do it justice. Would you care for a demonstration, so that you may fully understand?”

“I…”

Part of her was urging her to say no, to hurry down the path and leave Jonathan behind. But another part was clamoring yes, yes. This might be her best chance to learn, to please Giles. And who would ever know?

Besides, she did not think Jonathan was the kind to take undue advantage. There was something almost gentlemanly in his bearing, despite his lowly position in the stables. They were almost at the dairy. If he pressed her too much, she could simply scream for help.

A kiss—so that she might know exactly what to do. His reckless suggestion took fire in her blood. She mustered her courage.

“Perhaps….” Her heart sped. “Perhaps you might show me, after all.”

He studied her a long moment, and her resolve began to fade. Was her lack of knowledge so off-putting?

“If you have changed your mind, I understand.” She turned her head away, so that she would not see pity in his expression. “I suppose I am not the kissable kind.”

He lifted his hand and gently turned her face toward him. The feel of his fingers against her cheek made a thrill course all the way down to her feet. There was no pity in his eyes.

“You are eminently kissable, Anna. I confess, I’m surprised you’re not an expert on the subject.”

Hope fluttered in her chest. “Then you will? Kiss me?”

“Come.” He drew her into the shade of the dairy wall, where they would be out of sight of anyone passing by.

They stood facing one another, and then he placed his hands at her waist and pulled her forward. He was taller than Giles, his chest broader. For a moment she kept her hands at her sides, unsure. She stared up at him, certain her eyes were full of questions. Oh dear. Perhaps she shouldn’t have…

He lowered his face, his lips gently brushing hers, and her worries fled. The kiss began slowly, simply, yet there was nothing simple in the wild beating of her heart. His lips moved against hers, lightly teasing. She had never known how very sensitive her lips could be—tingling and impatient for more.

Then he settled his mouth more firmly over hers and it felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. Her hands slid up to grasp his shoulders. She was shivery and breathless, hot and cold all at once. His tongue traced her lips and she hazily recalled his explanation.
The parties involved open their mouths.

She parted her lips, and felt him smile. Tentatively, she opened her mouth wider. His tongue dipped inside, tasting her. Then their tongues met, and she nearly gasped aloud from the sensation. It was her first sip of champagne, the delight of galloping over fields, the force of a summer storm—all rolled into one. This. This was kissing.

When he finally lifted his head, she blinked. Her senses swam, so that she had to clutch at his shoulders to remain upright. His hands remained at her waist, and she was not inclined to ask him to remove them.

“Have I answered your question?” he asked, a crooked half- smile on his face.

“Yes. That was…most satisfactory.”

 And dizzying, and intoxicating. She hoped she wasn’t staring up at him too foolishly. He let out a low breath and released her.

“I’ve kept you from your duties long enough,” he said.

“Yes.” She removed her hands from his shoulders, but couldn’t make herself step away from him. “Well… I should be going. Thank you for the education, sir.”

“Anna.” The sound of her name on his lips made her heart give a curious little leap. “Call me Jonathan, please. And if you have any further questions about matters of this nature, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d gladly assist your understanding.” There was a definite twinkle in his eyes now.

“I will, sir. Jonathan.” Warmth sifted through her entire body. “Good afternoon.”

“It’s been a most delightful one. Until next time, Anna.”

She did not bob a curtsey this time, only turned and went up the path. Just before she entered the dairy, she glanced back to see him leaning against the sun-dappled wall. His arms were crossed, and he was watching her with a strangely rueful smile.

The next morning, Giles was still asleep when she entered his bedchamber. As instructed, she opened the drapes, then went to stir up the banked coals. When she turned from that task, she saw he had woken and was sitting up against the ornate headboard of his bed. Again, the sheets had fallen to reveal an expanse of male skin—but somehow his shoulders did not look quite so broad, his chest so firm as they had the day before.

No matter. His eyes were still blue, his features as handsome as ever.

“Good morning, Anna,” he said. “Come over here.”

She quickly obeyed, but when she stood beside the bed, ready to demonstrate her newfound knowledge, he shifted away.

“Sit beside me.” He patted the coverlet. “Don’t be shy.”

Anna slid onto the bed. Why, it was almost as if they had woken together—as they would once they were married. How agreeable of him to give her an early taste of that life.

Her legs pressed against his, and she could feel the warmth of sleep still clinging to his skin. He took her hands, his fingers stroking her palms.

“Why, you’re chilled my dear. Let me warm you.”

Before she could say that the hearth would be heating the room soon, he pulled her against him. She sprawled against his chest in a most unbecoming way.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Actually, I’d rather—”

“Let’s try this. You sit atop me.”

“I… what?”

“Astride.”

She stared at him. What he was suggesting was outrageous!

Then again, there was so much she didn’t know about intimate relations. He had said he would show her, so she must be willing to learn. This was her future husband, after all. Slowly, she sat up.