While both Isabella and Travis navigated the tumultuous sea of emotions in their hearts, even the esteemed majordomo Lafferty found himself grappling with his own set of challenges. The sting of Bethany's rejection in favour of Paul lingered, but what intensified his disappointment in the woman he once admired was her own sharp-tongued vile demeanour. The tidings of Travis nearly strangling his bailiff over Isabella reached Bethany's ears, prompting her to immediately align herself with Paul's side and proclaim Bella as the instigator.
"She certainly was provoking Paul! Surely, that woman willingly spreads her thighs for our young master. Who has ever seen a mere governess enjoying privileges greater than any of us?! And riding one of the horses akin to a peacock! As if she were a lady of elevated standing!" Her voice echoed through the dining room during one lunch, with no one opposing her, but also no one joining Bella's side.
"Your efforts are futile, Bethany," thundered Lafferty sternly as he approached his former flame. "We are all well aware of what kind of man Paul truly is. Your reluctance to acknowledge it is merely your concern. I implore you to refrain from involving Miss Ward; she is innocent!"
Bethany scoffed and shook her head. "Well, look at you too, Lafferty. So, you've succumbed to the charm of that young harlot, and rather quickly at that!"
At that moment, he reddened with anger, and a certain expression on his countenance even gave pause to the spirited woman that Bethany was.
"Miss Ward is a lady of kindness and virtue, well beyond your grasp! I must confess I was a fool to have once harboured genuine affection for you, you contemptible serpent!"
His cutting remark elicited a muted chuckle from the servants present in the dining chamber, yet Lafferty paid them no attention. Turning away, he took his seat at the table, not deigning to look in Bethany's direction. Bethany, too, found herself crimson-faced and unable to utter a single word. She promptly exited the chamber, likely seeking solace with Paul to share her grievances. Nearby, Corliss leaned in towards Sarah and whispered,
"What are your thoughts on this, Sarah?"
The older maid pondered for a while before responding,
"I find myself increasingly drawn to Mr. Lafferty. He seems a man with his head in the right place. It's just a shame he chooses companions like Bethany."
Corliss squinted, studying Lafferty's features. She had to concede that, in the hierarchy of attractiveness, the majordomo didn't stand out—he could be thirty-six at most, with rust-coloured hair, delicate freckles, and a prominent nose that dominated his countenance. Lafferty paid little heed to the glances of the servants, focusing solely on his repast. Once done, he efficiently cleared the plates, following through with his routine. The estate was always bustling with activity, and despite his pledge to Travis to investigate the arsonist, he found himself lacking the time and opportunities he desired.
Initial tasks included securing fresh supplies, overseeing the procurement of raw materials for the reconstruction of burnt structures, and acquiring a new fence to encircle the property. After deliveries, he meticulously inspected the goods and disbursed the agreed-upon funds to the merchants, a task often performed by the Marquess himself when present. Travis, without reservation, joined the workforce, contributing to the labour alongside the servants and lads, inadvertently expediting the tasks. However, Lafferty was uncertain whether the increased pace was due to his assistance or rather the imposing aura that commanded respect from everyone around him.
However, even as the labour progressed, the Marquess appeared more and more sombre day by day, refraining from engaging in conversation with Lafferty and not deigning to respond to his inquiries unless they pertained to the matters of the estate. Indeed, he didn't need to; the majordomo quickly discerned the intense tension between him and Isabella Price. Then came the soirée in honour of Princess Augusta Frederica and the associated tasks, which Lafferty handled masterfully given the limited time he had.
While satisfied with his organisational performance, he reproached himself for possibly revealing too much to Bella about Travis St. Arcey. Perhaps he should have left it as it was, refraining from expressing his thoughts so she would learn directly from the Marquess. However, knowing his master, he doubted that he would hang his gains with women on the nose of a woman in whom he had a prominent interest.
But did he still harbour that interest?
Lafferty was not blind to the growing rift between them, fearing that it would eventually force Bella to leave Marlborough. However, he wasn't certain about anything concerning the two, despite noticing a spark in Travis' eyes, as if he wanted to seize her every moment and never relinquish, and her dreamy gaze as if she imagined him finally seizing and never releasing her from his clutches. And mayhaps it was only Lafferty himself who harboured such romantic notions, given the absence of the intimacy of a woman's body.
As for his promise to young Earl Darlington regarding sweets, he upheld it every time, except on days when he heard that Teddy had been unkind to Bella. He wanted to help Bella with positive motivation and also have a conversation with the boy.
"Isabella is very good to me," Teddy said, taking a confection from Lafferty's hand, "actually, so is Travis."
"That's splendid," Lafferty remarked with delight, gently tousling the boy's hair, eliciting a joyful laugh.
Bella had exhibited commendable care for the lad, employing a truly humane approach that endeared her to him. Her ability to embrace a childlike demeanour only served to draw her closer to young Teddy. Whenever Travis occasionally joined their company, she subtly reminded him of the importance of shared meals and discreetly guided him on subjects suitable for discussion in Teddy's presence.
However, Travis hesitated when it came to introducing Teddy to other children. Unfamiliar with couples who had children of similar age, and burdened by his ever-vigilant protective instinct, he refrained from involving Teddy with strangers, fearing potential dangers. This reluctance stemmed from the deeply ingrained paranoia that had intensified since Teddy became his ward.
Lafferty strolled down the corridor when the Marquess, dishevelled from the wind, with a countenance contorted in anger, emerged. He brushed past the butler like an ominous presence, turning only to issue an imperative command, "Lafferty, when Miss Ward arrives, inform her that I await her presence in my study forthwith."
Without waiting for Lafferty's acknowledgement, the Marquess stormed away, leaving the butler to ponder the intensity of the suppressed rage and sense of concern for Isabella's well-being.
A brief knock on her door followed, and when Bella didn't invite him in, Lafferty conveyed, "The Marquess anticipates your prompt attendance in his study, Miss Ward."
After a contemplative pause, Bella responded, "Lafferty, inform the Marquess that I find myself indisposed."
Her response unsettled him. "Is aught amiss, Miss Ward?"
"N-no," Bella replied, though her words lacked assurance for the majordomo's ears. "I truly do not feel well, Mr. Lafferty."
The majordomo sighed and proceeded to inform St. Arcey. Upon hearing the answer, a vein throbbed on Travis' forehead, and he struggled to maintain composure in his voice.
"So indisposed... quite intriguing. Especially considering she was not indisposed for other matters today. You may leave, Lafferty."
Lafferty sought to decipher the meaning behind the cryptic response but acknowledged that, once again, the judicious course of action was to withdraw and allow the Marquess to cool off; otherwise, he might bear the brunt of his ire. He resumed his duties and joined the evening repast when everyone had concluded their meal, and the dining chamber was mostly vacant.
While partaking in his solitary repast, he rose, walked to a tall escritoire, opened it, and retrieved a decanter of whisky. Lafferty did not consider himself given to impulsive imbibing, but today seemed to warrant such a measure. He poured a generous measure and observed the gradual wane of the sun from his vantage point.
As darkness settled, he discerned approaching footsteps. It was Corliss, attired in naught but her nightgown, who, at first, exhibited a start at the sight of him.
"Lafferty, are you still present here?" she exclaimed.
He nodded. "I apprehend that sleep will evade me this night."
"I have come solely for water," she replied, proceeding to a lofty vessel in the corner, from which she poured water into a glass she retained in her hand throughout.
Lafferty observed her movements and how the fabric adhered to her form. When she took a sip and turned toward him, whether due to the sudden chill or the touch of the fabric, the contours of her nipples became more discernible.
In that gaze, he had to discreetly clear his throat and shift his attention to his glass, sensing a delicate tension in his breeches. She surely noticed, judging by the mischievous smile on her face. Corliss was not lacking in allure; in fact, she possessed a certain charm that deepened with prolonged observation, especially in her light eyes. Her sandy hair, neatly braided, cascaded over her shoulders, and Lafferty momentarily pictured himself pulling them during an amorous encounter. Swiftly pushing aside such thoughts—Corliss could choose anyone but him, an averagely appearing steward, who happened to be at least twelve years her senior—he concluded his glass at once.
"You appear as though you'd welcome some company," she remarked after a brief scrutiny of his countenance.
Lafferty flashed a knowing smile, "Fetch a glass, and I shall pour you some."
"Wouldn't the Marquess miss his libation?" she inquired carefully.
"Nay, this is one of the bottles I received from him as a token of appreciation for my services. I'm surprised no one has stumbled upon them in that escritoire yet," Lafferty responded, pouring a glass for Corliss and himself as she took a seat beside him on the bench.
"No one ventures into that escritoire," Corliss remarked, raising her whisky glass. "Yet I am astonished that the Lord bestows anything upon you as a reward. He has altered over the years... and not for the better."
Lafferty clinked glasses with Corliss, his gaze returning to the more discreet areas of hers. In a fleeting moment, he contemplated whether he might become quite inebriated or if he could indeed engage in more intimate activities with the woman right there in the dining room—surely she wouldn't promenade herself in just a nightgown if she weren't amenable to such encounters.
"Well, he may be fractured and embittered, but he remains a superior man compared to most of his social standing. I doubt I would find a more favourable situation on another estate," the steward remarked, sipping from his glass and grinning at her slightly disapproving expression. "Evidently, whisky is not your libation of choice."
"That is correct," she replied, concluding the last drops in one gulp.
Lafferty's face broadened into a smile. "I shall pour you another one for your courage."
Corliss burst into laughter. "For my courage?" she asked in disbelief.
Lafferty replied absentmindedly, the alcohol already playing a little in his veins: "For having the courage to let me tear your nightgown off and to let my cock sing within your cunt".
This time her laughter was louder, so she had to stifle it so no one could hear. "Lafferty, you're filthy!"
Corliss then picked up the glass and swallowed the whole thing in one gulp. "How'd you know I'd be in need of courage?"
The majordomo touched his nose tip with his forefinger. "I have a great sniffer."
"And curious eyes that gaze at my tits," Corliss replied amusedly. "Tell me, what else have you got that's great, Lafferty?"
He gently squeezed her thigh as he pulled the hem of her nightgown up her leg. "If you'd like, I could show you."
Simultaneously, they rushed towards one another and began kissing akin to two hungry creatures. Then, they both swung a leg over the bench, positioning themselves to face each other, and Lafferty stripped off her nightgown in one fell swoop until Corliss was sitting nude in front of him.
"Here?" she asked him in a voice that was veiled with passion.
"Here," Lafferty replied, grasping her lips again, pulling her form to his chest and pressing himself against hers, pushing her back onto the bench.
His deft hands squeezed her ample breasts until she moaned, and then he ran his tongue from the base of her neck to the nipple. His sucking was so thorough that she cried out with excitement: "Fuck me already, you've been on my mind all day! I can't stand it any longer!"
With a glance at her, Lafferty rose even swifter to his feet and unbuckled his breeches. He took the length in his hand, and within a moment he was granting her the pleaded wish as he thrust it into her warm, wet quim.
"Oh, dear God," she moaned in pleasure as she gripped him even tighter inside her.
"God won't be any help to you here," Lafferty gasped, "you'd better pray to the devil of pleasure."
Her muffled moans sounded akin to a piece of heavenly music to his ears as he began to build up a rather rapid pace. The atmosphere of being at the mercy of anyone entering the dining chamber, possibly caught at the height of their passion at any moment, was only adding to their rush of emotions and excitement.
The withdrawal was beginning to take its toll on him, though, and after a while, he felt that he couldn't hold out any longer than he had to. But suddenly she snapped like a bow, clenching her fingers in his neck, stiffening and crying out as her climax engulfed her senses.
Breathing hard as sweat rose to his forehead, he quickly pulled his hardness out of her and sprinkled her soft belly with his semen. A little longer and he could spend the next month wondering if he'd become a father.
"It's been... amazing," Corliss said quietly, eyes closed.
Lafferty grinned with satisfaction and stood up to fasten his breeches. "That was nothing remarkable as of yet, my dear Corliss. Wait until I take you properly."
She opened her eyes with astonishment, offering a delicate smile. Lafferty swiftly retrieved her nightgown that lay discarded nearby and handed it to her.
"I shall find a moment on the morrow to escort you," he said in a conspiratorial tone, to which she nodded before swiftly disappearing from the dining chamber.
Lafferty cast a glance at the whisky bottle but decided against pouring the last measure of the evening. He wished to savour the taste of Corliss on his lips without the interference of alcohol. Eager to release their romantic encounter from his veins, he chose a nocturnal promenade through the house. Though inclined to whistle, the late hour restrained him from awakening anyone, especially the Marquess St. Arcey, though it was possible the master had not taken to his bed yet. Reflecting on the matter, he concluded that provoking his master at this late hour would be most unwise.
As he traversed the grand hall, a shadow by the window caught his peripheral vision, prompting a start.
"My Lord," Lafferty addressed the shadow, taking a deep breath.
Travis stood immobile, gazing into the moonlit night. His countenance, though youthful, bore the weight of unseen burdens, as if carrying the troubles of the entire world. In his hand, he cradled a wine glass.
"Lafferty," Travis spoke, turning his attention to the majordomo. "Sleep eludes you as well?"
I find rest elusive, but surely for reasons distinct from your own, ruminated the majordomo. He nodded respectfully and added, "Forgive my candour, but of late, My Lord, you appear quite... pissed off. I presume it is linked to your insomnia?"
Travis scorned. "Since when do you apologise for your candour?" he sipped from his glass and continued, "I'm troubled by many things at once. This estate is bleeding, Lafferty, and its prospects are uncertain after two fires in such a short time. Everything costs three times as much, and the return is very little. The competition in this region is starting to outdo me. I don't know how long I'll be able to cover the loss from my other estates," the Marquess sighed and took another sip, "I found myself compelled to secure a loan through Charles Gilchrist, notwithstanding my initial aversion to such a notion."
It was the formalisation of that accord during which Bella disrupted him and Mr. Gilchrist on that fateful day, later employing force to move Travis aside from her path after learning that he was still in possession of her missives.
Lafferty whistled silently. It never occurred to him that the Marquess' resources could dry up so quickly.
"Who knows, perchance I shall have to form an advantageous union eventually, securing a livelihood for my estate and upholding my standing in society," Travis remarked mockingly, a wry smile gracing his countenance.
Lafferty coughed discreetly. "I regret to point out, but Miss Ward is not precisely Miss Ward, and I daresay she adequately befits to your... requirements."
At the mention of her name, Travis frowned and pierced Lafferty with a look. "Verily, if only you're not being astute beyond your capabilities, Lafferty," he said acridly. "The last thing Miss Ward would desire is my marriage proposal at present."
Lafferty raised an eyebrow, a benevolent expression on his face. "Well, it's high time to gain her favour I suppose."
"I find myself lacking the time, and perhaps the skill, to gain the favour of my own brother, let alone a lady of her calibre," Travis snapped.
Lafferty nodded and replied, "Indeed, it is wise to approach your brother with caution, yet the path to Miss Ward appears well-laid, given your shared history and her previous fondness. I am puzzled as to why you haven't made any attempts thus far, particularly if your circumstances are as precarious as you portray them."
That path has already been paved for her by Captain Hayes right into his groin, Travis thought venomously, recalling the scene by the lake where she enjoyed his embrace. And cock, as he was later ascertained by the minx herself!
Once more, he experienced a piercing ache deep within his shadowed soul, where profound envy took deeper root with each passing day, and a surge of anger clouded his mind so much that he delicately placed the wine glass on the table. Pressing his injured knuckles, adorned with a carefully wrapped bandage, he sought to drown out the unsettling thoughts that betrayed him. Lafferty, ever observant, noticed the storm brewing on his face, along with the hints of wrath reigning over his master, and couldn't conceal a wry smile.
"Something tells me, My Lord, that winning her affections eludes you. Until now, women have effortlessly ensnared you, but when the tables turn, you find yourself at a loss," the majordomo remarked with a mischievous grin.
"Go to Hades' realm," Travis snapped irritably, redirecting his gaze back to the window.
"Perhaps a heartfelt conversation with her is in order, but what do I know about such matters? Good night, Your Lordship."
Travis narrowed his eyes, hearing the measured footsteps of Lafferty leaving the premises. The astute butler, a scoundrel in disguise as he perceived him, was, in fact, quite perceptive – there was truth in his words. When he needed to charm a woman, he faltered. And indeed, he desired to converse with Bella regarding subjects somewhat aligned with Lafferty's suggestions.
Perchance, it proved wiser for her to take refuge within the secured confines of her chamber initially. However, despite the proverbial belief that clarity often dawned with the morning light, Travis found himself unable to merely sit in his study and contemplate amidst the tumult of sombre emotions. Anguish had so thoroughly engulfed him that he could not accurately anticipate the consequences of their impending conversation, leaving her with only two conceivable choices – to weep in shame for what she did with Hayes or to weep in pleasure, a privilege he himself would grant her... or perhaps both, simultaneously.
Devil may take the captain, propriety, past misdeeds, or whatever impediment stood in the way, he was determined to claim her for his own desires.
Nevertheless, Bella dismissed him from her chamber, thwarting his advances at the outset. He offered her himself and his pleasure, but she scorned it, treating it as if it were the most abominable of things, casting it down and crushing it beneath her foot.
As Travis at last regained part of his composure and cooled off, he recognised that pressuring her and demanding her form in the manner he professed was utterly audacious. He couldn't force her into something she had already given and received from someone else or mayhap felt something more towards. In any case, their conversation, once his head ridden with indignation was fully composed, had to take place. It was imperative, or he would risk relinquishing his sanity.
What concealed itself beneath her sudden and unexplained animosity toward me that ignited overnight? What grave misdeed have I committed to merit her steadfast refusal to even meet my gaze? Does her heart now belong to that fair-haired rogue with whom she presently shares her bed and body?
"Fuck it," he muttered into the pervasive silence. "Fuck!"