Carnal Knowledge Ch. 05-06

Dear readers, I apologize for the long delay for this newest installment of the story. I do, however, have two chapters for you here instead of only one. I hope you will enjoy!

Much love,

Emmeline

*****

Chapter Five

The next afternoon, Eliza ambled with the children outside the manor house. Their destination was one of Eliza's favorite spots on the estate grounds, an area past the formal gardens where a manicured lawn gently sloped down to a large pond. The spring air held a slight chill, but the sun shone brightly and reflected dancing sparkles across the water.

She attempted to make a game of naming the many birds and plants but eventually abandoned the idea and simply let the children run and play on the open expanse of grass. The shrieks and giggles of the youngsters lightened her heart. They really were sweet children, she reflected. It was a shame they had such little love in their lives.

The grassy lawn beckoned to her invitingly. "Why not?" she murmured and plopped down with only a slight thought of staining her dress. It was brown and serviceable and likely would be none the worse for wear.

Her bonnet ties fluttered gently in the breeze, and simple joy of the moment soothed a little of the ragged edges of her emotions. She lifted her face, deciding that the pleasure of the warm sun on her skin was worth any risk of freckling.

Anna cried out, and Eliza's head whipped around. She stood, brushing at her skirts as she watched the children run toward an approaching man, his tall form unmistakable.

"Papa!" Nicholas shouted. "Have you come to play with us?"

The earl's eyes rested on Eliza as he came closer, the children attached like limpets to his legs.

"Play?" he asked, his brow arched. "What of your lessons?

Nicholas collapsed to the ground in mock agony. "Papa, Miss Lockhart has already told us the names of a thousand plants. If I try to remember any more my head will explode!"

Eliza's lips twitched as Rockdale's own mouth quirked into a smile.

"Well, then. We cannot have any exploding heads today," the earl said agreeably, causing his offspring to giggle.

Her brows lifted in surprise as the immaculately-attired earl then allowed the children to grab his hands and drag him off to the water's edge. Eliza settled back into her spot in the grass and watched Rockdale and his children skip stones across the water. She shook her head, fearing one of them would tumble into the water but smiled to see the children so happy. The afternoon sun beat down on her bonneted head, and she leaned back on her hands, a little drowsy.

She smothered a yawn with her hand and noticed Rockdale looking back at her, a knowing smirk on his face. Without thinking, Eliza put her tongue out at him, and the smirk turned into a full-fledged grin. He shook a finger at her before turning his attention back to the children, just in time to grasp the seat of Nicholas's trousers as the boy lurched too far forward in his excitement of finding the perfect rock.

Drawing her knees up, Eliza propped her chin atop her hands and studied the enigma that was the Earl of Rockdale. How could this smiling father be the same man who threatened her own family?

She shook her head as if to clear the cobwebs in her brain. Life outside her country village was proving much more complex than she could have ever dreamed.

Eliza considered herself a moral, independent-thinking woman—at least she strove to be. She attended church, was considerate of others, tried to do what was right. But perhaps her character wasn't as spotless has she had thought it was.

In a mere matter of months she had gotten herself ruined and been blackmailed into receiving a carnal education from her employer, the Earl of Rockdale, no less. The most perplexing bit of it all was that no matter how outraged and offended she became at Rockdale's high-handed treatment of her, a part of her found it secretly...stimulating.

Explicit images flashed in her mind, unstoppable. His scalding-hot mouth suckling at her sensitive breasts. The gleam in his eyes as he loomed over her, her thighs spread wide to accommodate his big body. His naked skin pressed intimately against hers as she was compelled to yield to his greater physical power. The sensation of his rock-hard cock stabbing into her soft flesh...

Eliza pressed a gloved hand to her suddenly hot cheek. Like it or not, her senses had been awakened to the excitement of sensual caresses, open-mouthed kisses, and physical intimacies like nothing she could ever have dreamed.

How on earth can you find any of this behavior exciting...her conscience whispered reproachfully in her mind, and she shivered despite the warm day. No well-bred, self-respecting lady could want more of that sort of thing-especially from an over-bearing, arrogant, dominating scoundrel who masqueraded as a gentleman. A man who was not and would never be her husband.

Lost in thought, Eliza shifted uneasily when Rockdale's shadow fell over her, his tall figure blocking the sunshine. The children had apparently grown bored with skipping stones and were romping about on the lawn.

"Feeling fatigued, Miss Lockhart?" he queried lightly, dropping down on the grass beside her.

The earl had left a generous distance between their bodies, but still Eliza felt her skin prickle with awareness. She cleared her throat. "A bit, my lord."

"Ahh," he murmured. "Not sleep well?"

She pursed her lips; the bloody man knew exactly why she was so tired. "No, my lord, in fact, I did not rest well at all. I was plagued with terrible nightmares." She shivered dramatically. "They seemed so real!"

His head swiveled around. "How unfortunate."

They both turned to watch the children a short distance away.

"I have heard," the earl continued conversationally, "that a rousing bout of physical...activity during the day can ensure one sleeps soundly at night."

"Is that so? How interesting, my lord. Were you thinking of cricket or perhaps fencing? I've heard that sport is quite popular with gentlemen."

Rockdale snorted. "I must confess I had an altogether different sport in mind, Miss Lockhart."

Eliza's heart began to beat faster, and she resisted the urge to fan herself. Too much sun, she decided.

"Although," he added slowly, "I suppose you could say that I was imagining thrusting my sword into your juicy little..."

"Lord Langley!" Eliza interrupted, calling out to Nicholas. "Stay away from the water's edge, please."

She carefully did not look at the earl as Anna trotted up, holding out her cupped hand.

"I picked you a flower, Miss Lockhart."

"Thank you, dear. It's lovely," Eliza said, accepting the small wildflower with a warm smile and tucking it inside her bonnet over her ear.

Anna nibbled her bottom lip and dug the toe of her shoe into the grass. "Papa?"

Rockdale inclined his head. "Yes?"

"I've never seen you sit on the ground like a regular man before."

"Am I not a regular man?" the earl asked, sounding amused.

"No," said Anna, quite seriously. "You're an earl. Nanny Goodson is forever telling us that you aren't like most other men because you're a noble."

"Well," Rockdale said, "I am an earl, that is true, but I am also a regular man, especially with my family."

Anna hunkered down in front of him. "Papa, may I ask you a question?"

"Yes, of course, darling," he replied.

A furrow appeared between the girl's brows. "Will Nicholas really be the earl someday?"

"Yes, of course, he is my heir." The earl folded his arms as he regarded his daughter with a slightly puzzled expression.

"I don't see why," Anna declared. "I am the oldest! I should be the earl!" She jerked her thumb in the direction of her younger brother, now rolling in the grass. "He says girls cannot be anything good!"

"Lady Anna..." Eliza chided gently.

"Dearest," the earl said, "it is the way of the world for the earldom to pass to the oldest son. I am positive you will be much happier without the weight of that burden on your shoulders." He reached out to tug on her long chestnut-colored braid.

"Some earl he's going to make," she muttered with a dark look toward her sibling. "He can't even buckle his own shoes!"

With a hearty sigh, Anna straightened up and gave her father a quick embrace. "Even if I can't be the earl, Papa, I'm glad you're a regular man sometimes."

She skipped away and squealed as Nicholas sprang up to chase her.

Eliza picked at a loose thread on her shawl. "I was thinking earlier that you should spend more time with your son and daughter. They miss you terribly, you know."

"I take good care of my children," he replied with an edge.

"Of course you do," she said. "But when do you come up to the nursery, read them a story, tuck them into bed at night?"

She sensed rather than saw the frown angled her way. "I wasn't aware you were an authority of raising children, Miss Lockhart. Do you not recall, I breakfasted with them and took them riding not long ago?" He flicked a small insect off his upper arm. "Besides, those things you describe are the work of nursery maids."

Eliza rolled her eyes. "Lord Rockdale, did you know that Lady Anna has a doll named Miss Nettie and shows a great aptitude for the pianoforte? And Lord Langley adores stories of pirates and often has bad dreams at night?"

"Nicholas has bad dreams?" Rockdale sounded surprised.

"Yes," she said softly. "He dreams that you die and leave them alone."

"That's foolishness," the earl returned after a moment.

"It's not foolishness!" Eliza insisted in a loud whisper. "Your children need reassurance and stability from you, especially now that their mother has passed. My lord, surely you can understand why they would be afraid of losing you, too."

Rockdale shifted his position. "Perhaps in the country household in which you were raised, children were unnecessarily coddled."

"I was not coddled! I was loved!"

"It seems to me you would have benefited more from having a father who spent less time spoiling you and more time making sure his family's finances were secure."

Stung, Eliza's head reared up, and she glared at him. "My father was a wonderful man! He just...he never expected to die so soon."

"I'm sure he didn't, but from what I gather from Sir Harry, he had no head for managing the money he inherited and spent frivolously."

She stared out across the water for a moment. "It's true," she murmured finally. "We were up to our ears in debt. But I always knew my father loved me dearly, and I wouldn't trade the time spent with him for anything."

"He should have provided for you and your family. Love does not put food in one's mouth."

The irritating man's nerve had no bounds! "What do you know of love?" she asked disparagingly. "Or of putting food in anyone's mouth? You're an earl! You have pots of money!"

"I love my children." Rockdale's voice was icy. "But you are correct, I have no desire to waste my time on chasing the foolish concept of love," he scoffed. "People speak of love as if it were some ridiculous elixir to solve life's ailments. What a load of utter shit."

The earl sat up straighter. "My parents died of illness when I was five years of age, and I was sent to live with my grandfather, the former earl. His idea of raising children entailed frequent beatings and daily lectures on how a future earl should conduct himself. Then, when I was old enough, I was sent away to school. So no, Miss Lockhart, I don't think coddling a necessary part of child rearing."

"You were beaten at five years old?" she asked, stricken.

"What he did instill in me was the knowledge of how to manage the earldom without bankrupting it, how to make smart investments, and how to use my connections to my advantage. That knowledge is far more useful than any amount of spoiling."

Eliza stared at his stony profile. "So you're saying that all those other..." She waved her hand around. "...matters are more important than spending time with your children?"

"I did not say that," he said through what sounded like gritted teeth.

"One day, my lord, perhaps you'll come to understand that love is far more valuable than money." She sniffed and lifted her chin.

"Tell me, please, is love keeping your family under a dry roof?" he asked sardonically.

"Actually, my lord, it is. It is my love for them that has compelled me to enter this foolish bargain with you!" She stood up and shook her skirts out with a snap.

Eliza turned away from him, calling out to her charges. "Let us head inside for refreshments!"

The children were off and running for the house, and Eliza picked up her skirts and followed them at a brisk pace. She was very aware the earl was quickly up and behind her.

"I was not finished speaking to you," the earl growled, his large form closing the distance.

She cast a quick glance behind her as he stalked toward her, glowering. "Don't you have some money-making things to do?"

"You do realize at some point today I'm going to have my hands on you," Rockdale said grimly. "And there will be no running away."

Eliza did not look back but swallowed hard and immediately regretted baiting him.

***

Annoyed and not a little disgruntled, Rockdale jerked his hat from his head as he entered the house. Eliza and the children disappeared at once up the stairs, but he did not follow. He intended to order some tea in his study - away from any infuriating governesses. Reluctantly he paused, hearing his housekeeper's voice raised in ire.

"I tell you, Simpson, it isn't proper!"

"What isn't proper?" Rockdale asked, frowning as he approached his butler and housekeeper in the main hall.

Simpson bowed. "My lord. I had just given the housekeeper your instructions on moving the governess' room. She...is concerned."

"Something amiss, Mrs. Biddleton?" The earl regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

"N-n-no, my lord," she stammered. "I am merely troubled that Miss Lockhart's room is somehow unsatisfactory."

"Yes, there is a problem," the earl returned coldly. "The governess has informed me her chamber is drafty. Perhaps the window needs repair."

"It isn't draft—"she started indignantly then stopped herself with a huff. "Simpson says you've requested she be moved to the Rose room, my lord. That's in the family area!"

"I am familiar with my own house." He stared down his nose at her. "Last I knew there are no family members in that room or any of the rooms except mine."

"But, my lord, surely—"

"See to it," Rockdale said flatly. "Immediately." He turned his back on the pair, irked at having to explain his wishes to servants. Christ. He was not in the mood for this nonsense.

The earl strode to the sanctuary of his study and yanked the bell pull perhaps a little harder than strictly necessary. He brusquely ordered refreshments from the summoned maid, who curtsied in terror and scampered away as quickly as possible.

Rockdale settled behind his desk and brooded. "Love is far more valuable than money," he muttered in falsetto, mimicking Miss Lockhart's voice and lofty tone.

Irritating chit. Who the devil was she to lecture him on love and duty? As if she was some great authority of the subject.

The earl absently tapped his fingers on his desk and found himself wondering if his outspoken governess had ever been in love with a man. He rather doubted it, since Sir Harry had told him she was known for being shy and unsocial.

"Shy, my arse," he grumbled.

He considered the idea of the girl marrying some poor, unsuspecting chap one day. He frowned; the thought nagged at him.

Would she marry? Most females aspired to do so. He expected she would be no different from the rest. The girl was no longer in possession of her maidenhead, thanks to him, but that wouldn't necessarily be a hindrance. Those big tits of hers could make a man forgive any number of sins, he mused darkly.

Rockdale accepted his tea and sandwiches with a curt nod when they arrived. He ate sitting at his desk, but paused mid-sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. Had he loved his wife, Isabelle? He had tried to, he supposed, and thought back to the start of his ill-fated marriage.

Even back then, he had been a rogue, the earl acknowledged. But despite his wicked reputation, his newly acquired title had opened both the ton's doors and ladies' legs wide. He had been restless and hungry, but for just what he couldn't have said; it certainly had not been a wife.

Miss Isabelle Thorne was the youngest daughter of a viscount and had been proclaimed the greatest beauty of her coming-out season. Auburn-haired and willowy, there had been a certain spark to her that drew eyes, both male and female. She seemed to always be at the center of attention, he remembered. A diamond of the first water the beau monde had declared, and Isabelle had been well aware of her own charms.

Rockdale had seen the young lady for the first time at the Wyndhams' ball. Even to his cynical gaze, she had been a vision to behold, gowned in silver and white. Her dark-red hair was upswept and sprinkled with small, glittering diamonds, the vivid color a striking contrast to her ensemble. Young gentlemen clustered around her like bees drawn to the sweetest nectar.

But not Rockdale. He had observed the scene from a distance with a mocking shake of his head before turning away to seek out a certain widow who had slipped a very naughty note into his pocket.

But Isabelle had noticed him, of course. Women generally did. He was not vain, but accepted the plethora of female attention that followed him as a tool to be used when needed.

As the season progressed and the succession of parties and social gatherings continued, he would frequently look up to discover Isabelle's eyes upon him. She could always seem to seek him out, no matter how mad the crush. She would flutter her fan in that ridiculous fashion women used, and smile coquettishly.

Rockdale had ignored her. Vain young girls did not interest him.

But finally, Miss Thorne used a connection through his aunt to finagle an introduction to him. He had bowed politely over her hand, inspected the slight bosom quite nicely revealed in the deep neckline of her pale-green silk gown, and simply walked away to the card room.

His closest friend and fellow rogue, Miles Barlow, had nearly choked with laughter. "Gads, Rockdale, you should have seen the chit's face when you walked away."

Miles' face turned speculative. "She's got a demmed nice mouth, that one. She's so eager for your attention that I wager you could get her alone somewhere and have your cock in that pretty mouth with barely any...persuasion."

The earl scoffed at his friend. "No, thank you. Gently-bred virgins are not worth the time and effort for a man not looking to get leg shackled."

But despite his professed disinterest in Miss Thorne, Rockdale had found it rather amusing to see the young slip of a girl set her cap for him. From what he heard about town, she had the adoration of countless gentlemen, poems written to her exquisite beauty, flowers delivered by the score, and yet the foolish girl wanted what she could not have.

Unfortunately, Rockdale realized later he had underestimated Isabelle's desire to get her way. He, who was used to being the predator, had fallen neatly into her trap.

It had been at the Feversham-Renwick rout that he had deigned, quite on impulse, to dance with her for the last waltz of the evening. Miss Thorne had not looked his way all evening, not once. He did not care at all, of course, but perversely decided he must do something that would cast her off-balance.

This dance set had already been promised early on in the evening, he knew quite well. The poor gent waiting to claim his coveted dance with the fair Isabelle had stood by, mouth agape and bow interrupted, as Rockdale swooped in and escorted the lady onto the floor.