Chapter Twelve: Blood Moon by Rosaline Saul
A SECRET WISDOM told her all she had to do was reach a hand to him and her body will be his. She knew this as surely as she knew she needed to breathe to live. For a few moments, he would then also belong to her, but only in the most basic, physical sense. She would be offering him her heart and soul; a gift he does not want.
The thought shocked her.
As he continued to stare at her, she could feel her temperature rising. The potent heat between her thighs was spreading through her entire body, engulfing her, prompting her to commit an act of madness. From somewhere she found her sense of pride and self-respect. She said in a cool and calm voice, a complete contrast to how she was feeling, “If you will excuse me, I need to unpack.”
He continued to stare at her in silence.
“Will you please tell Beatrice I will join her in a minute.”
He said quietly, “Welcome to Manor Burke.”
Maggie did not watch him walk away and when she knew she was alone; she still did not move but stayed where she was in the middle of the large bed. She could not hide in the room indefinitely, even if her emotions were in turmoil.
He had chosen Beatrice and he intended to marry her. He was only playing a game with Maggie out of boredom. That was all it was. She had to pretend to be indifferent to his charm. The real challenge would be her own emotions. Somehow, she had to begin the charade now. She had to walk down the staircase and join Joseph Burke and his family in the dining room for lunch, and it would require every little bit of composure she possessed.
When did she start to feel this way about him? Was the fear she felt every time he was near her, a fear greater than being frightened and scared of physical harm? Was it a fear to love and not be loved in return?
She needed this employment and she could not let her sudden, silly feelings of emotion for a man intent on marrying a girl against her wishes cloud her judgement. She was only acting like a naive, young girl because… Was it the way he looked at her? Was it the way he brushed her hair away from her forehead when she was pretending to sleep rather than come to this house? Was it the way his lips felt against her forehead? The way she felt when his fingers brushed against her cheek.
Quickly she climbed off the bed and rummaged through her large suitcase. She found her teaching uniform. A black dress without any gatherings to flatter her figure. It covered her from just below her chin to under her ankles. The only decoration was the tiny ribbon of lace along the hem of the long sleeves.
She brushed her hair back from her face and twisted it into a bun at the nape of her neck. That was better. When she looked in the mirror at her reflection, she was satisfied she was portraying a professional image.
She drew a deep, calming breath, then started down the corridor and down the stairs.
A servant was waiting in the hall to show her the way to the dining room.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “There are so many doors.”
“You will soon become accustomed, Miss Abbott. Very soon you will feel quite at home.”
This was the last thing Maggie wanted to hear.
It helped that the dining room was full of people. She was able to smile and look around the room at all the new, unfamiliar faces and pretend she did not see the tall figure standing by the windows at the end of the room.
“So, there you are.” Beatrice came over to Maggie, slipping an arm through hers. “Everyone is waiting to meet you.” They walked to a young man with a charming smile. “This is Mark,” Beatrice introduced him casually.
Mark said, “It is good to meet you, Miss Abbott.”
Joseph had taken his seat at the head of the table, while Maggie manoeuvred herself into a chair at the other end, finding herself seated next to Mark.
“What do you think of Manor Burke?” Mark asked Maggie.
“It is really beautiful.” She glanced up at the ceiling. “The building must be really old.”
He agreed and he was clearly an enthusiast of Architecture. After a while, Maggie forgot her self-consciousness in the sheer pleasure of listening to him.
With lunch over, Maggie found herself hijacked by Beatrice on the pretext she wanted to show her the gardens.
Maggie warned, “But then we must do some work. Before I can design our lesson plans, I must first find out how much you know about the subjects I am to tutor you in.”
Beatrice pulled a face. “School. Always lessons, lessons, lessons with Joseph.”
“Well, it is important that you should be able to talk to his business clients with him,” Maggie explained.
Beatrice giggled. “That will never happen, so you can just pretend to give me lessons.”
Maggie mused wearily as she followed Beatrice into the sunlit gardens, she already had more pretence in her life than she could handle.
She toured the gardens with Beatrice, turning a partially deaf ear to the flood of half-formed and unpractical plans the girl was making for her own future.
At first, Maggie worried. “Beatrice, I am here to work. I am not on vacation. Count Burke will wonder why he employed me.”
Beatrice pouted. “This is only your first day and Joseph will never know. He and Mark will be shut in his laboratory all day long, talking about elixirs and potions.”
Maggie relented and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon in the extensive and immaculately kept gardens. Despite her expectations, Maggie thought her first day at Manor Burke was calmer than she could have anticipated.
That evening, before dinner, Maggie was summoned to Joseph's study. A servant once again led her there and it was behind another set of wooden doors in the hall.
When she entered the room, Joseph was perched on the edge of the large wooden desk. She noticed he had removed his jacket, and the top button of his shirt was undone. His hair looked as if he had pulled his hand through it too many times. She wondered what he and Mark were doing the whole afternoon. What elixirs and potions were Beatrice talking about?
The room was large and the shelves on the walls were filled with books. The room was rather dark with the only light coming from a door leading straight into the garden.
“Close the door,” he instructed her.
She turned around and closed the door, then stepped into the room. She stopped and stood a good distance away from him.
“It is the matter of your uniform I would like to discuss with you today,” He said as a matter of fact.
“In my previous employment, I have always worn this dress. It is very practical.”
He swung himself down from the desk. “Maggie.” There was a sudden fierce, uneven note in his voice. “Do you not know how beautiful you are?”
Maggie looked down at the floor, detaching herself from his gaze. “You cannot speak to me like that. We have an agreement.” She added quietly, “You have no right to say those things to any other woman except Beatrice.”
For a moment, he looked bemused. “There is no need for me to say them to Beatrice, she is already secure in her beauty. You, on the other hand, are an entirely different matter.”
“You promised you would not talk to me like this. You said I would be safe here.”
“And you are safe, Maggie.” His voice was hoarse. “Safer than you will ever know. I never pretended I would not be tempted.”
“I will have to leave.” She did not dare look at him.
His voice was clipped. “Leave then.”
Quickly she turned to the door before her emotions betrayed her. She was aware of movement behind her, then her arm was grasped, and she was whirled around to face him.
He demanded harshly. “Why will you not stay?”
“You know why.” Maggie tried to pull her arm from his grasp. “You only want to keep me here to be your mistress.”
“And you believe that?”
“Why not?” Boldly she continued, “Your conduct to date has not convinced me that faithfulness will ever be high on your list of priorities.”
His eyes glinted cold and angry. There was ice in his voice, when he said, “If that is what you already believe, then why should I deny myself any longer to take what I want?” With one swift, compelling gesture he pulled Maggie into his arms, grinding her body against his, forcing her into a sudden awareness he was not only angry but very aroused as well. The heat from his body penetrated the thick fabric of clothing which separated them as if the material no longer existed.
Maggie's breath caught in her throat.
For an exceptionally long moment, he stared down at her, scanning her dilated eyes and vulnerable mouth. The coldness and anger were fading from his face to be replaced by a gentler, almost shy expression. He lifted his hand to the nape of her neck, forcing her to look at him.
Maggie knew she should at least make some attempt to push him away, even if it was only to preserve her pride and self-respect, but she could not do it. She did not want to do it. She was excited by his nearness. The whimper in her throat was one of longing.
He bent his head and his lips touched hers. At first only lightly, then feverishly. His tongue flicked between her slightly parted lips.
At first, Maggie was passive in his arms, then, as his kiss deepened, she started to respond. Her mouth moved with his in an unsure eagerness.
He murmured softly in satisfaction. His fingertips pulled her hair from its imprisonment of the bun and then he began stroking the nape of her neck, under the fall of her hair. His fingers traced along the line of her throat, the curve of her shoulder.
Her body ached as she pushed herself against him. Her legs felt too weak to support her weight and she was trembling from an internal quiver. Her hands moved up to the open edges of his shirt. She needed to feel the warmth of his skin under her fingertips.
Joseph tipped her back over his arm, leaving a trail of kisses down her extended throat.
A tiny sob of pleasure escaped her lips.
Her heart sounded like distant thunder in her ears, until she realised it was not her heart, but rather the pounding of a hand on the door behind her.
As Joseph straightened and scowled at the sudden disruption, Maggie freed herself from his embrace and stepped backwards, pressing the palms of her hands to her heated cheeks, trying to control her breathing.
Joseph called, “Who is it?”
“Mark. We need to speak. It is rather urgent.”
“Thank you, Mark. Give me a minute.”
Joseph looked at Maggie, his expression remote. “Impeccable timing. Mark has saved us from a terrible mistake.” He paused. “You may prefer to go into the garden, and I will send one of the maids to find you in a little while.”
“Yes,” she whispered, nodding her head once. She rushed, almost stumbled, to the door leading into the garden.
He implored, “Maggie, wait.”
She did not stop or turn to him. She just kept going as her mind echoed the words terrible mistake again and again.
She felt as if she could die of shame.
The only terrible mistake was her accepting his offer of employment. Being in his arms and feeling the way she did for the first time in her life was not a terrible mistake.
However, he considered it a terrible mistake and it dawned on her that she loved him, and she could never, ever coerce Beatrice to marry him and at the same time be true to herself.
She did not want to convince Beatrice she would be happy if she married Joseph because Maggie knew unequivocally she wanted to be the one to spend the rest of her life with him, laughing with him, sometimes fighting with him and the one to make him happy.
That was not the way it was going to be though.
Joseph had his own plans for his future, and those plans did not include Maggie.
She found a secluded bench under a flowering hedge a distance away from the manor. She sat down and stared at nothing.
She was such a fool.
Only when she started to shiver did she notice her surroundings again. The sun had set completely and everything around her was dark. She wondered how long she had been away from the house.
Hugging her arms around her body protectively, she felt incredibly cold.
Continue reading Chapter 13/17
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