Teasing Your Wicked Heart

CHAPTER 8

Even as Anthony was looking forward to kissing that noisy mouth, he had not seen the sight of it since that late noon.

She slept like the dead, Mrs. Robinson remarked while they were making rounds in the servants' area of the house. He had asked her questions regarding his inheritance after having read Mr. Collins's letter, and the old woman had answered with the best of her knowledge.

He didn't know if he was to thank the political judiciary of England for recognizing poor relations, or he should just kill off each and every single one of them for the stupidity of their laws. If they had just allowed their daughters to inherit, no one would have to trace their poor relations just for the entailment of lands.

But Anthony had not been actively taking his seat in the parliament, and if he had complaints, it was merely due to being inconvenienced at this very moment.

Anthony had learned much from the matronly woman. She has been with Sarah Jane since she was born. Aside from marrying their butler Mr. Robinson, which was to be employed at Kinsmen Place as well, they had stuck with the lady amidst all troubles.

Their life was anything but peaceful. They had to move so many times when all Lord Rosenbergs passed. He noted, even if it wasn't said outright, they seemed to be delighted that he was the very picture of youth and virility.

After all, they had been repeating and emphasizing that all of the Earls were old, except for the 10th Earl who had not been old but had been married and had terrible vices.

It didn't escape Anthony that Mathilda was suspiciously tight-lipped about the 10th Earl.

It also didn't escape Anthony that Sarah Jane had not risen for supper. It was a terrible pity. He was looking forward to teasing her that evening. and maybe invite her to sit by the fireplace for a glass of his finest wines.

Since she had got to the trouble of bringing him that marvelous mixed berry jam, it was safe to assume that she would like fortified berries as well.

"Did Lady Sarah Jane ask for supper to be sent to her room," he inquired as the maid served a bowl of turtle soup. The liquid was steaming hot and smelled fantastic.

"No, my lord."

He nodded and went back to his soup.

It would be a lonely solitary evening, just as how his days had been for the past year.

Sarah Jane woke with a start, her mind struggled to regain her focus as the room had become numbingly dark. It was quite odd for someone to awake due to darkness, but Sarah Jane had been especially sensitive to the dark—a fear from childhood that she had not gotten over.

"Is there not a single blasted candle in this room," she whispered viciously under her breath as her legs swished off the bed.

She stood, not bothering to find her slippers, as she extended her arms to feel any table counters that might contain lighting equipment.

As far as she could remember—and she had an awful memory—the last picture in her mind was the dazed gaze she speared through the big window of her room. The curtains had been drawn, and the warm orange-tinted sparkles of light had bathed her skin completely, the wind had caressed her face until she submitted to slumber.

But now it was too dark, and the darkness woke her up.

Sarah Jane glanced towards the corner of the room and saw that the window was still there, curtains drawn, and darkness surrounding all around. Her heart raced as her eyes fought to see her surroundings. The sky held no tinge of light as the luminous moon hid away from the night. The stars were covered by thick dark shadows that crawled ever-so-silently westward.