Page 20 of Of Lies and Earls (Inglorious Scoundrels #2)
W hen Jacob woke up, Honoria wasn’t in his bed. He groaned and rolled onto his back, scrubbing his face with his palms.
He hadn’t felt this good—this happy—in… well, ever. He never knew physical pleasure could feel so good. He never knew it would feed not only his body, but his soul.
He only wished he’d woken with her still in his arms.
But she was his housekeeper. She had duties.
A smile spread over his face. For now.
With renewed purpose, he climbed out of bed and went through his morning ablutions. Once dressed, he went straight to his study and rang the bell, instructing the maid to ask Miss Hartwell to join him.
When she arrived a few minutes later—minutes that felt like hours—he crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her into his arms, kissing her savagely. She responded in kind, backing him toward the desk until his hips rested against the edge. He pulled her closer, to stand between his legs, caressing her back, her bottom.
When they finally broke the kiss, both were breathless, her cheeks a lovely shade of crimson. “I have to go back to work,” she whispered.
“No.” He pressed a kiss to her lips. “Stay.”
“I can’t,” she said, then deepened the kiss, moaning into his mouth.
“You can. You don’t have to return to work. You’re mine now.”
She smiled up at him. “I’m not abandoning Mrs. Clarke just because we…” She hesitated. “Well, you know.”
“Then you’re fired,” he said with a grin. He meant to tease her, but her expression shifted, darkened.
“I’ll hire more housekeepers,” he assured her. “More maids—whatever you think necessary. But you’re not lifting another finger in this house.”
She stepped back. “Jacob, that’s not why… I don’t want my life to change.”
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean, you don’t want your life to change? Surely you don’t think a countess should be doing the duties of a housekeeper?”
Her head snapped up. “A countess?”
“Well, of course. We’re going to marry.”
She laughed—a sharp, humorless sound. “Are you mad?”
He scowled, his heart thumping loudly against his chest. “Are you? Why are you surprised? After the night we shared, you really think I’d let you go without making you my wife?”
She took another step away. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to offer for me just because of that.”
“Just because of that?” he echoed, stunned. If she didn’t think their shared passion was reason enough, he had another one. A good one. “You could be carrying my child as we speak.”
She swallowed hard. “No, I couldn’t. I can’t…” She let out a breath. “At least, I don’t think I can.”
“Pardon?” He frowned, not quite comprehending her meaning.
“I don’t think I can have children, Jacob. I’ve never…” She closed her eyes briefly, her features pained. “I’ve been with another— with other men before… I’ve never been able to conceive.”
He took it in quietly. “Oh.”
“I hope you don’t think less of me for that.” Her voice was small.
“Less of you?” This conversation was confusing the devil out of him. “For being unable to bear children? That’s not your fault.”
“No.” She turned her head, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “That I wasn’t a virgin before you.”
Oh . That thought hadn’t even occurred to him at all.
He shook his head. “I didn’t think you were. Nor do I care.”
“You don’t?” She looked genuinely surprised.
“Why would I?”
She licked her lips. “Most men would.”
He crossed his arms. “I don’t know if that’s true.”
“And I think you should be more discerning,” she said, her tone sharpening.
“What the devil is that supposed to mean?” he barked.
“It means I’m below your station. I’m not fit to be a countess. I can’t give you heirs. I’m a housekeeper , Caldwell.”
The use of his title landed like a blow.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” he said evenly.
“But it matters to me. And it will matter to Elise.” Her voice cracked. “People will talk. The gossip will be relentless.”
“You were born to the gentry,” he countered. “This isn’t as scandalous as you think.”
She looked away, wincing, but before she could reply, a knock interrupted them.
They both stiffened.
She immediately retreated to the far end of the room.
Jacob’s jaw clenched. Her sentiment was clear: she didn’t want to be seen near him.
“Enter,” he called sharply, and Honoria flinched at his tone.
The butler stepped in and bowed. “My lord. Lord Bradshaw has arrived for your scheduled meeting. He’s waiting in the drawing room.”
“Thank you, Clarke. I’ll be right there.”
As the door closed behind the butler, Jacob turned to Honoria. She looked pale, her lips trembling.
Was she truly that frightened of being seen with him?
He tamped down the bitterness rising in his chest and reverted to a formal tone. “Be so kind as to bring us a tea tray.”
If she insisted on being the housekeeper, then so be it.
* * *
He’s here.
Jacob left the room while Honoria remained frozen in place, her mind spiraling.
He’s found me.
Not that he knew it. Not yet. And not if she could help it.
She bolted from the study—not through the main corridor that passed the drawing room, but through the narrow, dim servants’ passage that twisted behind the walls of the house.
She crouched low behind the half-open service stairwell, her back pressed to the rough, damp stone. Her breathing was ragged, the air refusing to fill her lungs. Clutching at her dress, she tried to steady herself, as if gripping the fabric might force her chest to expand.
Oh, God. What am I going to do?
Footsteps echoed up the stairs—slow, steady, and purposeful. Honoria tensed, her breath catching in her throat.
“Miss Hartwell?”
Honoria flinched at the sound of the name she’d used for the past six years. It’s not my name.
Mrs. Clarke stood at the bottom of the steps, a bundle of linen in her arms, her gaze sharpening as it landed on Honoria. She climbed a few steps, her brows knitting with concern.
“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, voice low and laced with alarm. “By God, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I have.
“I—I don’t feel well,” Honoria managed to say, her voice thin, her breath short. “But Jac—his lordship needs tea… in the drawing room. He’s entertaining a guest. Please, could you ask someone else to bring it to him? I—I can’t.”
Her hands were trembling now, clenched tightly in the folds of her skirt. She was sure she looked like a madwoman.
Mrs. Clarke stared at her for a long, assessing moment. Then she nodded once, solemnly.
“Of course, my dear,” she said gently. “Go to your room. Rest.”
Honoria didn’t wait to hear more. She turned and fled up the servants’ stairs, heart pounding so loudly it drowned out the sound of her footsteps. The corridor blurred as she passed through it, not registering anything around her until she was inside her room with the door shut.
She sank onto the edge of the bed, fists gripping the sheets until her knuckles whitened. Her vision swam, the light from the window too bright, the walls too close.
She didn’t know how long she sat there, frozen in that same breathless moment, before the door creaked open before her.
Mrs. Clarke entered quietly, closing the door with a soft snick.
“Are you feeling any better, then?” she asked gently.
Honoria shook her head. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, blurring the room.
“No,” she answered truthfully. Had she made a mistake? Should she have fled with Lydia when she had the chance?
Mrs. Clarke came closer and sat beside her on the bed. The old mattress dipped slightly with the weight.
“What’s wrong?” she asked again, softer now.
Honoria’s throat tightened until it hurt. She looked down at her lap, at her trembling hands. Her voice was barely audible when she spoke.
“That man… Lord Bradshaw, in the earl’s drawing room,” she said, her voice thin, breath ragged. “I know him.”
“I thought you might,” Mrs. Clarke said evenly. “Did you used to work for him? Was he a terrible employer?”
Honoria let out a shaky, humorless breath. “No,” she whispered. “I wish that were it.”
“What is it then?” Mrs. Clarke prompted.
“I used to be—” Honoria let out a ragged breath. “Well… technically, I still am… I am his wife.”
She lifted her head and met Mrs. Clarke’s gaze, the words she had buried for years finally breaking free. “He is my husband.”