The Postilion (The Masqueraders #2) - S.M. LaViolette Page 0,32
her tears.
It turned out that she needn’t have worried. Not even thirty seconds passed before she heard soft snore.
He’d fallen asleep.
Benna snorted in disbelief. So, that was what all the fuss was about. She had to admit that she had quite enjoyed herself before he’d shoved inside her. And even that had not been unpleasant toward the end.
She shifted so that his hip bone wasn’t digging into her. It was difficult to breathe, but she liked his weight and the feel of his bare skin. He was warm and solid and smelled enticingly of the expensive cologne that he favored.
Tentatively, she raised her hands to stroke the taut, silky skin of his waist, reveling in this opportunity to explore his body.
He muttered something in his sleep and shifted but didn’t wake.
Benna wrapped her arms around his body and held him, smiling to herself. It took her a moment to identify her feelings: it was happiness. For the first time since before her brother died, she was happy.
She must have dozed, because she was startled when he moved off her, his feet hitting the wood floor with a soft thud.
Benna watched without speaking as he bent and picked up his robe, his cock now soft and his balls pendulous between his slightly hairy thighs.
He shook out the fine blue silk before slipping it over his shoulders. Only then did he look down at her.
Her stomach clenched at the cool detachment in his eyes and the faint curl of disgust on his lips. “You need to clean yourself up.” He gestured to her legs, which she realized were still splayed.
Not only that, but there were smears of blood on her thighs and pelvis.
Benna pushed up onto her elbows and gasped. She wasn’t due for her courses for two weeks and was always regular to the day. “What happened? Am I—”
Geoffrey gave a sharp, unamused laugh. “You poor ninny,” he said, tying the sash around his waist. “A maiden’s cunny bleeds her first time—didn’t anyone ever tell you that?” Before she could answer he said, “Unless you want a babe, you need to cleanse yourself thoroughly of my seed.”
When Benna merely gaped, irritation flickered across his handsome features and he heaved a sigh of annoyance. “Christ. How is it that you can be so bloody ignorant at your age?” He shoved a hand through his hair. “Don’t worry, you can’t get with child your first time. But tomorrow go see the apothecary on Hall Road. Tell him you are bedding a servant girl and don’t want to put a brat in her belly. He will sell you what you need for the next time.”
He turned and strode toward the door without another word.
Benna lay motionless, staring unseeingly at the ceiling in her grim little room.
She felt … strange: dizzy—almost woozy. In fact, she felt remarkably like she had the night she’d been ambushed and pummeled by Gary and his mates.
Geoffrey’s words echoed in her head, two of them especially standing out: next time.
Chapter Eight
Cornwall
1817
Present Day
It’s just a meal, Benna told herself as she dropped off Lord Trebolton’s clothing in her tiny room in the attic and scurried back to the parlor she’d engaged for him earlier in the day.
You know where meals lead, my dear Benna.
Benna had not needed to listen to Geoff’s annoying voice all day today. She should have known his silence would never last.
She scratched softly on the parlor door before opening it.
Lord Trebolton was standing before a merry fire, a glass in his hand. He raised it in Benna’s direction. “Would you care for a brandy?”
Benna could murder one. But it was never a good idea to muddle her wits with alcohol.
“No thank you, sir. I believe Mr. Bickford has selected an excellent bottle of wine to accompany dinner.”
The earl nodded, his gaze on the window, which was dark and steadily pelted by rain. “A good night to stay in.” His mouth pulled into a strange little smile, and then he turned to Benna.
“So, tell me about the horses you bought today.”
They briefly discussed Benna’s purchases at the auction and also her plans to call on the saddler tomorrow and arrange for him to come out to Lenshurst.
“And the employment agency?” Lord Trebolton asked.
“I’d thought to go first thing in the morning.”
“While you’re there, have them send out some prospects for the positions of valet, footman, gardener, and kitchen and chambermaid. Tell them I’ll interview people beginning next week.”