The feelings that had kept him awake all though out the night at the bliss of her lips.
He stood up immediately when he felt himself move with excitement.
"The tenants." He cleared his throat. "Have them informed that the damages from the rain will not be deducted from them. But rather someone would come and fix everything at my cost." "Very well my lord." Callam jumped up from his seat aiming for his book.
Emilia had surprisingly created a name for him during the five years of her presence and he wondered why he had never paid any attention to her and most of all why the glory was given to him and not her. "If that be all my lord." Devyn gave himself more than a moment before pacing the lit room. He moved for the window once again and even though he tried so hard he couldn't see where his wife or the shirtless man had gone too. Perhaps it had gotten colder, and she had deduced it was time to come back in doors. He wondered why he was feeling this way. Feeling emotions, he never knew he could feel, a lover he was clearly not and yet he wanted the tender look of his wife's eyes or perhaps he wanted the woman who had looked at him in the reveling dress.
Was he lusting after his own wife? Could that be it then? He wouldn't lie he hadn't ever faked interest in her up until that point, hence the many travels he did, and yet the thought of another mans hand on her had his blood boiling and his hands itching. He pushed the thoughts to the back of his head, these were things he could deal with later.
The winters were coming, and the corps grown on his estates were getting fewer and fewer and even he couldn't subject his tenants to the harsh weather conditions especially with how cold it got in Cornsdorf. Mostly because the many lot of them wouldnt want to work anyway.
He got hold of his coat and walked out of the study. Again, the fresh vases of flowers he had failed to notice caught his eye and he questioned who his wife, Emilia Seymour really was. He past open the drawing room and came to a halt when he found the biggest vase of flowers seated unattended to. Curious he made a beeline for them. They were the biggest bunch of flowers he had ever seen, and he wondered if his wife had a secret lover, after all they were more fabulous than the ones he knew her to grow in her garden.
Hams Smith.
The name rang as a mockery in his head. But even he was incapable of buying such flowers. They looked like they had travelled a far distance under impeccable care.
And the worst part of all it was that no matter how hard he searched the large mass, he couldn't find a note detailing who the flowers were from that was until he looked at the vase and saw the delicate initials of L. Clara Leavening. His breath stilled.
He had forgotten about her and what had happened during the small moments of the study. Honestly even he couldn't completely comprehend what had happened between them. All he could remember was the general look of boredom he had perfectly masked after a few rounds of meeting the many lots of guests and the pounding he had developed due to her nonstop chattering. Then they had made their way towards her study, and she had hinted on she wanting to buy a few shares of her own from lord Berrycloth which he had obviously advised her against. Then she had insisted on buying some from him, claiming she would be able to keep up with its stressful demands and even employ workers under her care as her husband was one too foolish to take up risks with his money.
They had shared a few drinks and honestly, he didn't have it at the back of his mind to grace her between her legs, though he had planned on visiting one of the local establishments, but it had happened and Emilia had walked in, guilt had washed over him and yet, yet he had found it hard enough approaching her and apologising.
And when they had kissed, it was like as if all the other women he had ever taken to bed were incomparable to the perfect woman that had stood in a tempting dress before him.
Tempting him.
Calling him.
Waking him up.
And he wanted her.
At least he wanted her body.
He strolled out of the drawing room and into the open yard. The small rays of the sun blessed him with what little warmth they had but when in shade of his home, the winds assaulted him till he felt himself shiver.
"My lord." He was greeted by a half drunk, half sober man that used one of the bundles of hay to rest his head. "I want to see the foals and the reminder of my horses."
"The fools are over there by your left," He hiccupped. "They are still suckling on their mama. Though those drafted beasts wont let me near them." He took a moment with himself before continuing. "Though the horses arent back from their morning stroll. Just let me get up and I will show them to you, my lord."
The man struggled with his feet as he tried to get them to function but failed miserably. "And who lead them for the stroll if I might ask?"
"Well of course, its that bastard Smith my lord. Hams Smith. Why, he oversees that business my lord." The hand looked like he wanted to say more but shut his mouth as soon as any other thought formulated in his head." And was he assigned this job by anyone?" Devyn waited patiently though an irritation started to itch behind his ear.
"No," The hand grumpily murmured. "The only reason he does that specific job is because he is sure to catch the lady of the house's attention during those wee hours. She usually comes out for a read or a stroll about the same time the horses go for the run. He is only meant to be working on the bunk houses sir." Intrigued he questioned further. "Indeed he does?"
The hand got more than comfortable and slapped Devyn a mighty tap. "But we all hear the rumors my lord, how incompetent she is at birthing. I wonder how you put up with her." Shocked Devyn stared at him in more disgust than hatred. If his gaze could kill, he was sure the man would have been limb unable to move any part of his body.
"I bare with her as any man with his wife. I see no reason as to why you or any other person for that matter would take up the matters between the lady and I as a topic of discussion."
But the hand was clearly ignorant as he paid no attention to the words that came out of his mouth in his drunken state of mind. "But you would be sore displeased hearing the whispers and murmurs that go on about in that house of yours, especially from the maids. I think they do not like her ladyship for whatever reason." He sat up right and held his head for a moment or so longer till he felt the ground stable enough to make an attempt at standing up. When he tried and failed miserably once more, he sat back down slumping into the hay even deeper.
"But Hams," The man's voice took a dangerous tone as a hard line set across his face. "That man is danger, danger I have seen one too many times my lord." And Devyn couldn't help but agree and he worried for some reason that Emilia was safe wherever she was. "He robbed me of my coin just the other day," he continued "and cheated at a game of dice. They were rigged my lord, rigged! That bloody son of a bustard. I will get him."
Devyn turned for the direction of the stables. To the safe grounds where the horses and their foals rested. Hams Smith was a entirely different problem on its own, one he would have to deal with later.
"My lord," the drunken hand cut him sort of his thoughts. "what about the fools? The fools? The fools? Darned it the baby horses my lord?"
But first he was going to have to deal with his workers getting drunk while at their jobs in broad day light.
"Callam!" He called and hoped the man heard his voice from wherever it was he was in the house.
Devyn slowly dragged his eyes from the attention of his accounts that he had been working on. A slight headache had long taken hold of his head but he had chosen it over the constant thoughts of Emilia's body in his head.
"Yes."
Callam snuck his head though the door. "My lord you called for-"
"Is he back already?" The old man nodded and pushed the door aside for the man to enter. "My lord." Hams greeted him and Devyn had the pleasure of looking at the man for a good few minutes and taking in his build. With broad shoulders and thick muscles for hands, he could tell the man had done a lot of heavy work in his young age. His hair was a messy nest upon his head no doubt from the constant wind that blew about outside and despite the cold weather, he was dressed in nothing but his simple pants and a shirt. A shirt he had taken the pleasure of removing before his wife.
"I hear tale you are good with horses, you can easily tell a good horse from a bad one, yes?" The man shrugged his shoulders. "Yes my lord. And that was how I came about work under your employ my lord." Devyn nodded. "And you are called?" "Smith my lord, Hams Smith. My mother is a florist down by the town and my father-"
"Yes, I knew who your father was." That shut the man up quickly.
Devyn stood up and walked around the table to his coat. "I need your fair and just opinion then master Smith, if you please. I have decided to take an offer. Lord Godfrey has been able to overturn my decision on a team of horses from Ireland." The man simply nodded.
Devyn stood aside as he opened the door for the young man whose curious gaze searched around the visible places of the study they could land on. "He says they are the finest of beasts and are rumoured to run as fast as the wind does, granted they are good for sport, but I would also like to breed some of them with mine and I thought an honest opinion from you would do me good." He was pulled from his thoughts and his eyes landed directly on him, as if reading him.
Devyn couldn't care less.
He waited for the carriage and went beyond his way at opening the door for him. "I have never dealt with horses from other lands." Came Hams calm reply as if unsure of himself.
"Indeed and neither have I, but my friend says other wise." The man nodded and climbed into the carriage.
"But with your experience you might be able to help yes? Or would you rather I should have picked someone else? The rest of the hands claim you to be the best at what you do even though that wasn't exactly what you were assigned to." A small smile fanned his face. "I shall return the favour of their kind words." Devyn allowed himself to settle into the dark coziness of the carriage as he watched the man.
Contemplating.
He was doing this for her, he reminded himself as the carriage dragged into motion.
It was late into the evening and the cold chill had already begun though neither of them seemed in the least fazed by it. They had been traveling for about an hour and half when the carriage came to a slow halt. "We must be here then." Hams searched frantically at the darkness and saw not a thing. "Where?" He asked.