The Trouble With Seduction. Victoria Hanlen

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СКАЧАТЬ his hand toward Sarah and raised his brows. “He could help you sort out all that rabble outside if you’d give him a chance.”

      Her Aunt Eliza’s counsel came back to her. “Have courage, my dear. You are a widow of means, and now have the luxury to find your own happiness.”

      How Sarah wanted to take her aunt’s advice. But the day-to-day responsibilities and realities of making her own way had begun to wear. She’d spent most of her adult years as a wife confined to a woman’s sphere. Doubts now crept in, questioning if she’d the fortitude to withstand her family and society’s pressure against remaining an unmarried woman.

      She gazed down at the ruined garden and clenched a fist to her stomach. The sight worked on her like a punch to the solar plexus. Self-condemnation tumbled over her like a wave. If she’d been better at managing, Edward’s miraculous invention garden would still be in one piece.

      An overpowering urge to hold and touch items Edward made for her became paramount. Her teeth ground together as she strode to the door. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, I’m not able to go with you today. Megpeas will show you out.”

      “I say, Sis, getting away for a little while might be just the thing.”

      She yanked open the door. “Unfortunately, I already have a very full day.”

      Sarah nearly ran up the stairs and down the long hallway. Her shoes tapped on the marble slabs as she turned into a darkened corridor. Three rows of rectangular wooden moldings marched along the walls.

      After checking up and down the empty hallway, she pulled a chain from under her collar. On it hung an ornate key. She counted to the middle fifth rectangle on her right, ran her finger under the lower left-hand corner, and fitted the key into the lock. Giving it a firm twist, the secret door swung inward. She quickly stepped through and relocked the door.

      For Sarah, entering this plush, gilded room had been an escape from everyday life into a world of pleasure and sensuality. Sparkling red and gold veils filtered sunlight and shed an aura of fantasy across masses of soft furs and pillows. This had been her and Edward’s secret seraglio.

      Slowly making her way across the soft sheepskin and llama hides, she touched the face of the court jester automaton Edward had designed for her. Polished music boxes lined a Chippendale bookcase. She lifted the lid on a mahogany and rosewood music box. The tinkling melody of Schubert’s ‘Near My Beloved’ began to play.

      Humming along, she grasped the silver salver from the bedside table’s bottom shelf and set it on top, pulled back the red velvet and unveiled its contents. Special oils, redolent of lime, cedar and incense – still pungent after all this time – burst through the air and filled her senses.

      Eddie, the Earl of Strathford, her second husband, hadn’t been what most considered physically attractive or possessed of a conventional personality, and in certain social situations he could be slightly awkward. None of these things mattered.

      Though twice her age, she’d grown to treasure him for his good heart, his curiosity about the world and his sheer brilliance. How she had relished watching him create. Out of scraps of odds and ends he’d piece together the most miraculous inventions.

      Sarah breathed in the fragrances and perused the salver of Edward’s toys like she would a tray of tasty treats. A smile worked its way across her lips. Oh, the wickedness of that man. Over the few short years of their marriage, dear Eddie had shown her what a creative inventor could do for a woman. Unfortunately, his inventions often took priority and his toys became her only bed partners. Perhaps she should see if they still worked?

      Gliding a hand over a few of the devices, she paused above the ‘spine tickler.’ Then pressed her palm into its shiny ball bearings. Hmm. No. Maybe not.

      This one, perhaps? Her fingers flexed over the ‘pony rocket.’ A particularly provocative memory locked her teeth, sending a zing through a molar. No. She didn’t trust herself with the ‘pony.’

      Her hand grazed the slightly ribbed surface of the ‘Buzzy Bee,’ Edward’s redesigned version of le Tremoussoir. He’d painted it yellow and had given it to her for her twenty-fifth birthday. She picked it up, admiring its contoured design and perfect dimensions constructed just for her. The surface felt surprisingly warm, almost inviting.

      Once more, for old time’s sake?

      Sarah lay down on the bed’s soft fur, hiked up her skirts and, as she turned the key to wind up the device, read Edward’s inscription: THINK OF ME.

      “Eddie. Dear Eddie, how I’ve missed you,” she whispered, as she pressed the button and smiled at the mechanism’s low zzzzzz.

      The initial touch always startled. After a few moments, its buzzing vibration filled her nether regions with a tingling hum. She closed her eyes, concentrated on Edward’s sweet visage and let her imagination unfold.

      Unbidden, instead of Edward, the handsome face and strapping physique of one extremely irritating dance partner surfaced.

       Mr Cornelius Ravenhill.

      She sank deeper into the furs and commanded his image to smile, only to realize she’d not seen him smile, merely glower disapprovingly. While they’d danced, she’d been agape at his good looks and manliness. He, on the other hand, barely said two words to her and kept his gaze pinned to the doorway. Rude lout. A little over a week had passed since, and she refused to give him even a second thought. How had that vexatious man snuck into her daydream?

      The ‘Buzzy Bee’ bravely soldiered on, spurring her cleft into a delicious throb, making her hips quiver. Soon her sinews quickened, readying to find that sublime moment of bliss.

      Tap, Tap, Tap.

      Sarah grimaced and her eyes rolled back into her head. She barely heard the knock at the secret door as her inner muscles coiled and tightened toward that glorious peak.

      Tap, Tap, Tap. “My lady. Are you in there?”

      Her maid’s voice momentarily broke through the pleasurable sensation.

      Sarah pressed the ‘Buzzy Bee’ harder against her – concentrating, clenching, feeling the deeper sensation drive tremors all the way down her legs.

      Tap, Tap, Tap. “Please, my lady.”

      Oh, for God’s sake. “What!”

      Gracie called from the other side of the door. “One of the workmen found something in the laboratory’s ashes. The foreman thinks it highly important, something you must see.”

      ***

      A few minutes later, Sarah limped through the curtain hung to block the dust and grime in Edward’s burned laboratory. A fine hum of frustration stiffened her spine. This day had been one interruption after another.

      Several workers leaned on their shovels talking and laughing. In the corner, the burly carpenter swung a huge hammer into the wall, shattering the charred plaster. He bent over to inspect his work.

      She stopped abruptly. Her eyes fastened on the two firm mounds of – Good Heavens! She spun around. Workmen stood about dawdling, inflaming her sensibilities to palpable aggravation. She pivoted again in search of the foreman. “I was told СКАЧАТЬ