"Do you ride my lady?" He gestured to the horses that had just come out from the stables for a morning stroll. "Well," He placed his hand out for her and she hesitantly took it. "I did ride up until I turned about twelve. I encountered an accident with one of the horses and I guess I have never gone close enough to pet one ever since that day." He nodded oddly fascinated. But stopped a distance when she did.
"What had caused the accident if you dont mind me asking my lady?" "The straps, or the harness. Something wasn't on right and the horse got uncomfortable. Kicked and I fell off landing at an odd angle and fracturing my leg. I was lucky to have survived." She was indeed lucky, her father had worried more for the distressed horse than his own daughter and he had constantly for as long as she could remember blamed the poor performance of the horse on her, even though he barely rode or even partook in any form of horse-riding games.
Hams Smith was silent a moment before he said. "I could teach you how to ride again, help you over come your fear, and I will make sure to use the gentlest horse and have the straps on correctly." "Why you are far too kind sir, but I fear I would be interfering with your work-" "But of course not my lady. It would be an honour helping you." An uncomfortable feeling took hold of her, and she thought nothing of it. She had interreacted with the many servants both in her father's house and in hers but the man before her felt oddly strange, different if she was to add, "Then I shall like that Mr. Smith."
"Please my lady," he bowed down, holding her hand. He kissed her gloved hand just above the knuckles and when he looked up his soft eyes were replaced by something unreadable, the shiny light replaced by a sudden darkness. "Call me Hams." "Very well Hams." She watched the man retreat back to his work and she to her small spot amongst flowers. The book in her hand couldnt capture her attention any longer and she found herself thinking, perhaps even if her body didnt play a big role in keeping a man in marriage, it did add to the role. And seducing her husband wasn't after all such a terrible idea considering the fact that she was already married to him.
She stood up and made her way towards the house though she could feel a certain someone's gaze on her. Undressing the layers of clothes she had on her body, stripping her to her bare nakedness. "Callam, do we have guests?" The old man stood bowed then replied. "Lord Godfrey my lady. He is currently up in the parlor with his lordship." Godfrey Charles was one man that had visited their home as his second place of living and though she had never really made his acquaintance, the many stories she had heard about him were enough to paint a picture of his figure in her mind. "Is he well entertained?" The man nodded once more. "He is always entertained by good drink my lady." She nodded and run up for the stairs eager to try her new plan to test.
Seduction?
What was so hard about seduction? She had read about it in books, a little skin here and there and a bit of a slutty mentality though not too much. The lady at the gambling game of chess had used it and she was sure she had won back her tripled winnings on the sixth game as well as some of the lord's personal assets. And that had only been attained with her showing off a little bit of what she had to offer and her simple touches.
Beatrice had done the same, so had lady Clara Leavening. So why couldn't she especially if she felt her marriage was slowly slipping out of her hands?
She closed the door to her chamber behind her and rampaged through her dresses. The only thing she could find was a dark coloured dress with an open back and a low burst something she had never liked but she thought it would do. The dress clang to her slender figure like second skin and it played to her advantage that it wasn't princessy like. Which meant that her body though slender with perfect portions would be out for him to see.
The dress was simply scandalous.
Next was her hair. Her pale blond hair. She tied it up to her head and allowed for a few strands fall on her shoulders then thought better of it and wore it all down. It wasn't curled or anything and there was truly nothing special about her hair other than the bald blonde paleness of it. She run a comb humming slowly to herself and then run wet fingers through its straightens to hive it a sort of wavy appearance.
But then again, she found her gaze on the vanity mirror.
Why was she going through all this trouble for a man who proved to her once more she was far less than the pretty attractive women he sought after? Didn't she deserve better? Didn't she deserve love even in a world of unloving? And most of all did she dare step out and demand for more? If not from her husband then from another man?
No she couldn't demand from another man not because the marriage bound her to the lord of Cornsdorf but rather because she couldn't see herself in the arms of another man, she couldnt imagine her body coming alive with just the barest of touches or whispers other than from his.
She allowed her beating heart calm down. She could prove to him, show him she was better than the rest, give her, their marriage a chance. They deserved one didn't they? Even if the marriage was one out of convince and to save her from her soiled reputation of not finding herself a husband during her two seasons in London.
Emilia looked at herself in the mirror, perhaps her skin was too pale and her lips too dry, but she did look beautiful and at least that was how she felt. She dropped a shawl about her arms and opened her door. Her insides shook and her tummy rumbled. The soft chill that landed on her body was one that made the hairs on her arm stand. She heard the soft murmur of laughter coming from the open door and was astonished to see a man of great height and handsome face.
"Lord Godfrey?" She remarked more fascinated about his face than worried for herself. "My lord, it is a pleasure finally meeting the man my husband has grown so found of. I have heard quite the tale about you if you do not mind my saying." Lord Godfrey smiled and hastily stood up. It was a smile of a man whose boyish features had failed to leave him and his teeth were white against his smooth creamy skin hinting at good personal hygiene even though the rest of the ton were all slappy about that, they needed lessons at least from him. "My lady," he bowed before her. "Forgive my negligence for not visiting you sooner or even attending the wedding. I have been about the whole of England, without even having time for Devyn here." Her eyes caught the smallest glance at her husband and indeed she had the desired effect; he stared, intently at her, specifically her lower regions.
The butterflies swarmed in huge masses.
"Oh, I should know. A woman of my standing should know a man of the house doesn't make his estates grow by sitting at home." "Indeed he doesn't." The man turned to Devyn and a smile played about his lips. "My lady would you like to join us?" "Oh no. I am afraid I would have to decline. I have business in town. And please, Emilia would do just fine." "Well in that case. Charles." She nodded sneaking a glance at the man that devoured her body. "My lord." And he in turn replied; "My lady." Though his eyes strayed not once from her face.
Devyn watched her leave the room and had to contain the stirring he had began to feel. "My word Devyn, you didn't tell me that your wife was a pleasant sight to behold." "That is because you never asked dearest friend and you didnt even bother with the wedding." Charles brought his glass to his lips and took in a deep gulp though even he hadnt denied it, she was a sight to behold but what she wore, he cleared his throat and only that lead to another jolt of excitement running down his hard length. "Because you dearest friend said the wedding was a waste of your time and she wasn't exactly your bride. I do remember you only extended the wedding to the Court, a priest and her parents. Of course her dad couldn't attend because of her sister throwing a tantrum and your mother has never fancied her."
Devyn got up for the window and his eyes sought out the lone figure of a man who headed the horses in a slow trot and how he abruptly looked up at the opening of the grand doors no doubt admiring what she had, how she held her body, the curves of her body. Callam stood aside ushering the carriage, the plainest amongst his set and his wife walked down the steps with a shiver as she approached the open awaiting door.
"What are you staring at?" Devyn watched the carriage go before mumming. "Nothing." She hadn't taken a coat with her to keep the chill out of her body. Good gracious did she want to catch herself a deadly cold? "Ah, but I know that look, it can only mean two things." Charles murmured with a grin. "Pray do tell me." He deadpanned when he couldn't see the carriage anymore.
"One," The man stood up for the wine cabinet and poured himself a tall drink. "You are oddly fascinated by your wife and two," He placed another full glass on the table. "You have been awoken by your wife. Mostly by you being fascinated, that feeling, I quite know of it. Women are an odd thing." And yet Devyn didn't pay him any hid. Charles finished the contents in his glass and a grin so ear splitting graced his lips.
"Well then, you still haven't given me an answer on my question yet, Devyn. Are you in or are you out?" He eyed the second bottle of whisky that had just been opened. "I put my horses on track Charles, allowed them run a race I knew I could win-" "Yes, yes, Lord Abbington cheated you. But you seem to be the only one he cheated. The rest won their fair share of winnings. It was in the papers." Despite that he disagreed on what his friend was talking about. He knew better, he felt it in his bones, he just didnt have the full proof to go after Abbington.
"Come on Devyn, these are horses coming from the beat part of Ireland, they are fast and strong and have coats of gold and silver. They can win you a huge deal if you bet on them, and I bet you, if you added a few of your finest horses to the many lot, Devyn my friend you would have made more than what the shares to the mine makes you in a year!"
"A horse race cannot be compared to what the shares of the mine make me Charles, you and I know that. Besides, my horses from the bet arrived a week before I did." "And?" Charles brought another half glass to his lips and chocked when he heard. "They are all dead." He rushed for the water to sooth his burning throat down. "So that was what brought you back to the estates?" That and he had affairs to attend to, he continued, "Poisoned and left for dead."