To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) (19 page)

“No, not yet.”

All three turned to look at her.

“It is daylight. What if he sees me?”

Claudia sank down on to the bed. “True.”

“When?” Mrs. Wiggons persisted.

“Tonight, after I am done with my secretarial
duties. It will be long past midnight and no one will notice I am
gone until tomorrow.”

“Excellent idea.” Mrs. Wiggons nodded her
head. “I’ll tell the girls you are ill, so they don’t disturb you.
That should allow an extra day before anyone else knows you are
gone.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “Thank you, all of
you. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“You would do the same for us,” Natalie
insisted.

“I’ll miss all of you.”

The two younger women came forward and pulled
her into their arms. Tess didn’t fight her tears and accepted the
warmth of their embrace.

* * *

Vincent settled in behind his desk and
awaited her arrival. At the strike of seven, she knocked on his
door. He let out a sigh of relief. He feared she had bolted, though
he could not blame her. However, he would have been very put out if
that had been the case and would have been forced to go after her.
Not something he relished.

“Come.”

Miss Crawford, no, make that Miss
Ford-Creigh, stepped into the room. She wore the stunning blue
dress again. The cut emphasized the fullness of her breast and
narrowness of her waist. He let out his breath. He needed to keep
his head.

“Please, have a seat.”

She sat in the chair directly in front of his
desk.

“By chance did you or one of the girls go
through my desk? There are a few items out of place.”

Her face grew red. “I needed a piece of
parchment. I am sorry to have intruded.”

He grinned at her. Miss Crawford, or whoever
she was, lied very well. Especially since she was very familiar
with where he kept the materials to return correspondence after
acting as his secretary last night.

“No harm done, just ask in the future.”

“I believed you were asleep,” she
countered.

Vincent nodded his head. “True. In the future
ask Wesley.”

“Yes, sir,” she obediently answered.

He stood and refilled his glass. “Would you
care for a brandy?”

She stared at the bottle and answered after a
few moments. “Yes, please.”

Vincent said nothing. The state of her nerves
must be overset for her to take the offered glass. He poured and
handed her the goblet. Miss Crawford took a healthy drink, then set
it on the desk. Vincent raised an eyebrow in question. She did not
answer but another blush spread across her cheeks.

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes.” She straightened her spine and picked
a letter off of the top of the stack.

“Why don’t you move to the other side of the
desk, as you were last night?”

Miss Crawford changed seats without a word
and then looked at him with expectation.

He nodded his head. “Go on.”

Vincent absorbed the information his man of
business conveyed from his estate in the north. Once she was
finished reading, he began to dictate his response and
instructions.

“Pardon?”

Vincent turned to look at her.

“You are speaking fast, Lord Atwood, could
you go back and repeat after,” she paused to read what she had
written, “the shearing of the sheep.”

He had moved on from the sheep and was giving
instruction for the fallow fields. What had he wanted done? Oh yes.
He continued his dictation.

The pattern repeated and after she had
interrupted him for the sixth time, he turned on her. “Is there a
problem, Miss Crawford?

She looked up at him, her eyes wide, blinking
at him as if startled.

“You did so well last night. Tonight it is as
if you aren’t concentrating.”

She looked away. “I am sorry. Perhaps I am
tired.”

Of course she was tired. She was out half of
the night meeting Percer. “Let’s try again.”

Vincent started another letter but he barely
managed to get to the second paragraph before she interrupted him
once again and asked him to repeat.

“This is not working tonight, Miss
Crawford.”

She lowered her eyes. “I am sorry.”

He added a bit more brandy to her glass. “Why
don’t you come over to the couch and discuss what is on your
mind.”

She lifted the tumbler. “Nothing. I am tired
is all.” She swallowed a very health drink.

Vincent sat down. “I insist.”

She hesitated but finally said, “Very well,”
and moved to take the offered seat.

* * *

Tess wished she could have paid more
attention, but once she was gone, Claudia or Natalie could easily
fill this roll. No, her mind was full of what she needed to pack,
if she had enough funds, the easiest route to Scotland and if she
could manage to escape without Percer finding her. She was not in a
proper frame of mind to have a discussion with Lord Atwood.

“What is really on your mind, Miss Crawford?”
His hand came up to caress her cheek.

Tess sighed.

“Simple tiredness would not cause the
distraction you have suffered from tonight.”

She longed to tell him the truth, everything.
To unburden herself and ask for sanctuary. She did not want to run
again. She did not want to run for the rest of her life, which it
appeared she would. Or at least until Percer had all of the pieces
to the map and went on a treasure hunt. But, she could tell Atwood
nothing. At the very least he would not believe or support her. At
the worst, he would have her arrested.

“Miss Crawford?”

She turned to look at him. “As I said, I am
simply tired.”

“Worried as well?” His fingers traced the
lines that must have formed between her brows. Then he gently
traced her injury. “This is healing well. Does it pain you
much?”

Tess let her eyes close and enjoyed the
tenderness of his touch. Would she ever be free to enjoy the love
and caring of a man? Would she ever be free enough to marry, have
children? She knew the answer. Not as long as Percer lived. And not
while she lived in a country that branded her a murderer and would
hang her if she was ever found.

“Tell me what is wrong, Miss Crawford.”

She looked into his eyes. It would be so easy
to trust in those dark pools. But she could not. “I worry about the
girls and the school.”

The left corner of his mouth turned up and he
raised an eyebrow. “Is that all?”

She nodded her head, not trusting that her
voice would give away her lie.

“The students will be fine and the new school
will be sturdier than the one before.”

“Thank you for your assistance. Mrs. Wiggons
was beside herself with what to do.”

His smile deepened. “It is my pleasure.
Surprising, even to me, but I find that I am happy to help, and to
have the students in my home.”

She laughed. He hated they were here.

“I know I may not act as if I like the
disruption, but I truly don’t mind.”

He moved closer, placing his arm across the
back of the couch. Tess inhaled his clean scent.

“Tell me, Miss Crawford, what of your future?
Where do you see yourself in a few years? Do you plan to be with
the school forever?”

She looked up at him. He was very close.
Almost too close, but she didn’t move away. “I honestly don’t know
where I will be.”

“I hope you are around for a very long
time.”

She opened her mouth to respond but his lips
descended onto hers.

Thus fascinated by a continual spell, it was
not possible

that he should perceive what was taking place
around him.

Wake Not the Dead

Johann Ludwig Tieck

Chapter 16

Tess melted into the kiss. Goodness, she
could have never predicted he would behave in this manner. Then
again, she had yet to be able to predict Atwood.

His tongue traced her lips: she opened
further. He was gentle and firm at the same time. She did not know
a kiss could be so wonderful, warm, thrilling. Percer’s had always
left her cold and she only wanted to get away. Atwood could go on
kissing her forever.

Of their own volition, her arms rose and her
hands went around his neck. One hand moved into his hair. Her
tongue mimicked his. He groaned. Warmth pooled in her belly.
Goodness, she had no idea a kiss could be so powerful.

His lips moved from hers and to her cheek,
then ear, and finally the neck. Tess’ head fell back and she
enjoyed every incredible moment. Who knew when she would ever
experience this again, if ever?

* * *

“There is nobody in the hall,” Rosemary
whispered.

“Are you sure we should do this? Isn’t it
dangerous?” Sophia whined.

“We have to. She will be thirsty soon and
Atwood will not be able to control her any more than Walter could
Brunhilda,” Eliza insisted.

“But isn’t Atwood a vampire too?” Sophia
asked. “Won’t this make him angry?”

“Clearly Atwood can control his thirst,”
Eliza explained. “His wife will be a different story and I do not
intend to be her meal.”

“It is just so dangerous,” Sophia
worried.

Rosemary and Eliza turned to look at her.
“Would you rather stay back here, alone?” Rosemary taunted.

Sophia blanched. “No, I will go with
you.”

“Do you have the hammer and spike, Rosemary?”
Eliza asked.

“Yes, but you have to do it.”

Eliza rolled her eyes. “Of course I will. It
has already been decided.”

The girls inched into the dark hallway and
stopped outside their host’s door. They looked at each other and
took a deep breath. Eliza turned the handle and they entered the
room. Rosemary held the spike, ready to defend herself. They shut
the door behind them and stared into the darkness, trying to make
out shapes.

“We need light,” Sophia whispered.

“Just a minute.” Rosemary inched her way
across the room to the door that adjoined to Miss Crawford’s. She
opened it and the light from her lamp and fireplace penetrated the
darkness in this room.

“Get her lamp,” Eliza hissed.

Rosemary disappeared into Miss Crawford’s
room and returned a moment after with a lit candle.

Quietly the three approached the bed.
Rosemary lifted the candle so they could see the woman who
slumbered there. They held their breath in anticipation.

“It is empty,” Sophia sighed with relief.

“That doesn’t mean she isn’t in here. We need
to check the closet, or anywhere else she could hide.”

The girls clung together and walked to the
other side of the room, staring into the dark corners and behind
furniture, waiting to discover the vampire. After a thorough
search, nothing was found.

“Where do you think she has gone?” Rosemary
asked.

“Atwood must have moved her to a safer place.
He knew it was dangerous for her to be here,” Eliza decided.

“Perhaps he has a castle somewhere. That is
what Walter did,” Sophia offered.

“We should go before anyone finds us in
here.”

Sophia glanced around the room one last time.
A piece of paper caught her eyes and she walked over to the table
beneath the window. One sheet listed names. They were names she was
well familiar with. Beneath the names was another piece of
parchment. Another piece of the map.

“What is that?” Eliza asked as she came to
stand beside her.

“Atwood’s piece.”

“What should we do with it? Give it to that
nasty man so he will go away?”

“No,” Sophia answered, her voice stronger
than either girl had ever heard before. “We will make a copy.” She
looked up at them. “Not an exact copy, of course. Then we will
return the original here and give Miss Crawford the copy.”

“And how will you explain how we should know
about the map?” Eliza questioned.

“Then we leave it somewhere where she will
find it.” Sophia shrugged.

“One of the books. I will find it in my
book,” Rosemary suggested with excitement.

The girls blew out the candle. Rosemary
returned it to Miss Crawford’s room and they left as quietly as
they had arrived.

* * *

He could not get enough of her. If she would
have discouraged him at any point, he would have pulled back.
Instead, she clung to him, and made soft mewling sounds. Did she
have any idea what those sounds did to a man? She also wasn’t
acting like any innocent he had ever met, which meant he did not
need to hold back, if he wished to proceed further.

His fingers found fastenings at the back of
her dress. He wanted to loosen her bodice before he did anything
else. Her hands moved from his neck to plant firmly on his
chest.

His lips trailed down her neck to the edge of
her bodice.
Only a few more inches.
He pushed the dress
further down. Vincent lifted his head to view the sight. Only a
thin bit of muslin kept him from her skin. With both hands, he
pushed her chemise down and she was free. Perfect, just as he had
envisioned. One hand caressed a breast as he brought his mouth to
the other. Miss Crawford moaned and arched her back. No, one taste
was not enough.

While his mouth loved on her, his hand
reached down to grasp the hem of her skirt. Slowly he lifted it
until her leg was exposed. With a hand, he caressed her from knee
to thigh. All of her was as soft as he originally believed.

His fingers were a fraction of an inch from
the apex of her thighs when she pushed on his chest. No, she could
not want to turn back now.
Please no.

He lifted his head to look at her. Miss
Crawford’s eyes were wide. Her face pale. “Please, I cannot do
this.”

He wanted her with a need he had never
experienced before, but he was not a monster. He pulled away while
she straightened her gown. Her hands shook as she reached around
behind her and tried to refasten the few buttons he had managed to
undo. “I can’t believe I behaved in this manner. What must you
think of me? I’ve never allowed such liberties.”