An Earl’s Broken Heart by Ella Edon

Chapter Thirty-One

The next day, Isabel and Alexander had arranged to meet Lord and Lady Blackthorne for riding as they had long since promised. Alexander had to leave early to attend to some matters in the earldom but returned home in good time for their riding trip.

He entered the house and found silence, but for Mr. Wilson shuffling across the anteroom.

“Where is my wife?” he asked.

“She is preparing for your riding trip, my Lord, she should be down soon,” Mr. Wilson said.

Alexander, being already suitably attired for the ride, instructed Mr. Wilson to ready their carriage for the trip to Lord and Lady Blackthorne who lived a short ride away.

The soft pitter-patter of footsteps behind him made him turn around. Isabel was halfway down the stairs dressed in a lovely burgundy riding habit. Every curve and crevice in her body was completely unaffected by the loose habit’s attempts to dull her charm. She noticed his eyes having their fill of her and she colored violently.

“How do I look?” she asked, turning to offer him a side profile pose.

Alexander did not have the words. For a moment, he just stood in suspended silence with his mouth dry. Finally, he managed to give a half suitable response.

“You look wonderful,” he said.

It was the best he could manage having been so discombobulated by the sight of her. She really did have an incredible effect on him. Never had the mere sight of a woman been able to rob him of his breath so completely.

She glanced at him and smiled. “Thank you.”

He swallowed. “We should be making our way to Blackthorne Manor, they are expecting us.”

“Of course,” she said.

She walked in front of him, and Alexander found himself unable to stop watching her body move. This was a woman, his woman, and everything a woman ought to be: full in her femininity and powerful in her sensual power, the powdery musk of her perfume, and the soft sashay of her curves. Everything about her was a call that his body had no choice but to answer. Before they stepped out from the door, he grabbed for her wrist.

She glanced back at him with a quizzical look. “What is it?”

He wanted her there and then. In the drawing room, in the breakfast room. It didn’t matter. She must have seen the glint in his eye because her lips widened into a smile.

“Shall we see if there are any books to take them from the library?” she asked with a mischievous twist about her lips.

“Yes,” Alexander answered with a grin of his own.

They diverted to the library and before the door was shut, he was unbuttoning her tailored jacket. Her body was wrapped tight in the chemisette, but his fingers set to sweatless work.

She was just as hungry for him, grabbing at his buttons and running her hands over his chest. He wanted to feel her skin on his immediately.

At last, her bosom was free, and he took her nipple hungrily in his mouth. She threw her head back and moaned, taking his manhood in her hand as though holding on for dear life. He shifted forwards, pressing her back to the wall wide bookshelf and she gripped the shelf tight, steadying herself.

She hiked her skirt up her thigh and he slid his fingers in smooth as a spider’s silk. His tongue slid down her neckline and she writhed with shuddering pleasure as the kisses moved from her collarbone to her breasts then to her navel. She moaned in encouragement as his tongue touched her hip. He fingers reached her wetness and she gasped as though choked. Her body trembled at his touch, reverberating with thick, erotic power as he slid his hand back and forth.

“Oh, Alexander,” she breathed.

He took the cue and rubbed her wetness faster. Her eyes rolled back, and she let out a low, guttural moan.

A book fell from the shelf as she tugged desperately at his breeches. “I want you now.”

In one slick movement, he pulled his breeches down and kissed her. He withdrew his fingers and in one wet slide, he entered her.

They made love, hard and strong. She let out a long, exultant moan as she reached her zenith and dropped back towards the shelf with all the limpness of a person with no bones.

They rested against the shelf, recovering breath for a long moment, almost laughing at what they had just done.

She stared up at him, her eyes gleaming. “How are we supposed to ride after that?”

He laughed. “Oh, we can certainly still ride.”

They pulled their clothes back on and prepared to embark on their trip. They could not stop holding hands, brushing necks, anything to maintain their physical touch.

Mr. Wilson gave them a knowing look as he bid them goodbye. Alexander wondered if they had been noisy in the library, and it made him laugh.

They entered the carriage and set course for Blackthorne Manor, laughing and joking the entire ride.

When they rode through the gates to Blackthorne Manor, Lady Elizabeth and her husband were already leading out the horses.

“Isabel, you’re just in time,” Lady Elizabeth greeted. “I am so glad you both made it.”

Alexander nodded and inclined his head with a smile to Lord Blackthorne.

“Let’s get you some horses,” Lord Blackthorne said.

The horse Alexander had been given was a spotless mahogany cold blood which stood at least seventeen hands tall. Alexander new from the cut of the horse’s muscle that it would be perhaps the quickest amongst the group. For Isabel, Lord Blackthorne’s recommendation was a smaller Percheron with lovely dark coloring and a steady serenity as Isabel took the reins.

They rode through the stable yard, then turned into the small corral at the back of the garden.

They rode at a gentle pace for the first few minutes before Lord Blackthorne was struck by a sudden fancy for adventure and he kicked his horse into a hot canter.

“Don’t let him goad you into racing him,” cautioned Lady Elizabeth.

Alexander nodded. “Don’t worry, I—"

Isabel took off past him.

He watched wide eyes as she kicked her horse into a full gallop and gave Lord Blackthorne everything he was looking for in a challenge.

“Oh, Izzy,” Lady Elizabeth moaned, watching her sister fly off.

The tone of her voice said she had seen her sister ride at such speed before. Plainly she had not lost all the youthful verve that had made Alex fall so hopelessly in love with her all those years ago.

Watching her chase after and overtake Lord Blackthorne, Alexander was struck with an inescapable truth. He was completely, unavoidably in mad love with her.

When Alex and Lady Elizabeth finally caught up to their significant others, Isabel wore a wide smile and Lord Blackthorne had the frown of a cowed child.

They rode in a wide arc casting glances at one another as they maintained a gentle speed.

“I forgot how fine a rider you were,” Alexander said.

Isabel blushed. “Elizabeth was always the better rider, in truth. I was just always the more adventurous one.”

Lady Elizabeth laughed. “Well, that is certainly true. Izzy has never been far from adventure.”

Alexander could barely stop staring at her. He was making an utter spectacle of himself. The rise and fall of her chest in the riding habit made her bosom utterly arresting. He thought back to just moments ago when they had made love in the library and felt his blood surge in excitement.

“You too are quite very much in love,” remarked Lady Elizabeth.

That made Alexander smile. It felt good to hear that and not be flooded with a wave of apprehension. Now he was free to love without restraint or fear.

“Indeed, they are,” added Lord Blackthorne.

Isabel laughed and urged her horse to move up beside his. “Perhaps we should quicken the pace a notch, my Lord.”

Alexander smiled “Perhaps we should.”

She leaned towards him. “Catch me if you can.”

At that she took off at a canter, scattering sand in the corral as she urged her horse forward. Alexander watched her go and felt the smile warming his cheeks. She really was a woman of adventure and together they would make the world a happy place.

* * *

They returned to Carter Manor and found an ornate carriage sitting at the front of the house.

“Who is that?” Isabel asked.

Alexander shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

Isabel grew a tad uneasy. The carriage was a large and expensive one, built for four passengers and pulled by four horses. Its folding hood was raised such that it would only cover two of such passengers, but the state of the carriage suggested that only two people had come with the carriage. Her first thought was that it would be her father, but she knew every one of his carriages and she did not think he would have acquired such an expensive carriage when he hardly needed to leave the house and had no children living with him.

They stepped into the house and Mr. Wilson appeared. “You have visitors, my Lord, they are in the breakfast room.”

“Who is it?” Alexander asked.

Mr. Wilson smiled. “I am afraid they have sworn me to secrecy; they want it to be a surprise.”

Isabel raised an eyebrow and took Alexander by the hand. “Let’s see who it is.”

Without bothering to change out of their riding clothes, they made directly for the breakfast room and stepped inside.

Sitting beneath the clerestory windows with a smile was a slender woman with aquiline features. She seemed more advanced in years than her and Alexander, but the woman was markedly graceful in her manner and bearing. The jewelry on her ears and neck marked her out as a woman of indubitable means and her smile was an indication that she expected a happy response to her visit. The man sat next to her was always obviously wealthy. He had a civil countenance and strong but subtle posture.

“Cousin Emily!” Alexander exclaimed “Lord Branthwaite.”

The woman rose, her smile widening. “My dear cousin Alex, or should I call you Lord Carter now?”

Alex laughed as he moved to embrace her. He turned to Isabel. “Isabel, allow me to introduce to you my cousin, Lady Emily Branthwaite. She is my Great Uncle’s only daughter and was to me as good as a sister.”

Isabel gave a deep curtsey and smiled. “It is an honor to meet you, Lady Branthwaite.”

Lady Branthwaite smiled. “The honor is mine, Lady Carter. I am glad my cousin was finally able to find a wife, and one so strikingly beautiful.”

Isabel colored mildly. “You are very kind, Lady Branthwaite.”

Alex gestured to the gentleman with Lady Branthwaite. “This is her husband, Lord Branthwaite.”

Lord Branthwaite smiled and inclined his head. “It is good to see you, Alexander, and a pleasure to meet your wife at last.”

Alexander beamed. “You promised to visit many weeks ago. To what do we owe the pleasure of welcoming you today, dear Cousin?” he asked.

Lady Branthwaite raised her chin. “It is always a great pleasure to see you again, Alexander, but today my dear husband is the reason for our visit.”

Alexander raised an eyebrow. “Really?” he said glancing at Lord Branthwaite.

Lord Branthwaite nodded. “Yes, Alex. I know that the Earldoms coffers have suffered some neglect in the years just past, but you have done quite a remarkable job of turning things around. I am quite keen to enter into business with you.”

Alexander’s eyes widened. “That’s wonderful!”

Lord Branthwaite smiled. “I think the Estate is perfect for sugar trade, and I would like to set to work right away.”

Alex almost jumped with glee. “That is fantastic news! I should like to draw up a plan. We will make a success of it.”

“I have no doubt we will,” said Lord Branthwaite.

Alex narrowed his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Lord Branthwaite, and thank you, too, dear Cousin.”

Lady Branthwaite’s only response was a curt nod before she fixed her eyes on Isabel once more. “You look just like your mother,” she said coolly.

Isabel’s heart lurched.

“You sound a little like her, too,” added the woman.

Isabel straightened. “You knew my mother?”

Lady Branthwaite nodded and gave a small, gentle smile as she wet her lips. “Oh yes, we were once friends, your mother and I.”

That hit Isabel hard. She had very few memories of her mother save for those spent learning the pianoforte, but she could scarcely forget the day she died.

Her mother died on a sunny day. Isabel could never forget how bright it was that day. Not a single cloud in the sky. She had just cut a new route through the maze and the joy jiggling inside of her was so strong that she thought she could take off and fly the way she sometimes did in her dreams.

She was all the way into the house before she realized that something was wrong. Her mother’s horse was back in the stable, but she hadn’t seen her come in. It hit her when she walked into the house and found her father and sister in the dining room. They were sat at the table with clasped hands. Not eating. There was no food on the table. No conversation. Nothing but eerie silence.

It was then that Elizabeth let out a shuddering sob. “She’s gone.”

Her father moved to put his arm around her, and she kept repeating those words.

Isabel hadn’t even known what question to ask them, but she knew their answer would only bring pain.

Her father’s words were the ones that kept playing in her mind, whenever she recalled that bright day.

“We lost your mother.”

She looked up, rousing herself from her memory and studied Lady Branthwaite. The woman had an aura about her, as though she could see something that no one else could.

She smiled at Isabel. “Let’s go for a walk, Isabel, and leave the men to further discuss business. I should like to get to know you, and I am sure you would be glad to hear stories about your mother.”

She offered Isabel a hand and together they strolled out from the study and into the garden.

They walked for a good half hour, and she found that Lady Branthwaite was a remarkably friendly and warm-spirited woman. She really saw Isabel as family and was eager to embrace her as such. Their walk led them at last to the drawing room where Isabel entertained her with a rendition of a piece that Elizabeth had taught her.

At the height of their revelry, a knock sounded at the drawing room door.

“Who is it?” Isabel answered.

“Wilson, my Lady,” came a low rumbling voice.

“Come in,” Isabel said.

Mr. Wilson pushed open the door and gave her a wide smile. “Lunch is to be served, my Lady, Lord Carter has asked that you both join him.”

Isabel rose to her feet and glanced at Lady Branthwaite. “Shall we?”

Lady Branthwaite smiled. “I think we shall.”

They followed after Mr. Wilson to the dining room where Alexander sat with his attention focused on the window. He was dressed in white linens, with a white cravat that left no part of his chest exposed. His eyes had a faraway caste, though they shimmered like the ocean in the sunlight.

“My Lord,” Isabel muttered, drawing his attention.

He straightened and almost immediately on sight of her, his face brightened. “I don’t think I have ever been happier than this,” he said. “For the first time in my life, it feels like I have a family. A real family.”

Lady Branthwaite gave a troublesome grin. “This isn’t the half of it. I’ll be expecting some nieces and nephews by my next visit.”

They laughed and took their seats for dinner. Mr. Wilson treated them to a meal of turkey, kidneys, mushroom, potatoes, and kedgeree.

Alexander was at his charming best as they ate. When the man really set his mind to it, he could win a smile more easily than perhaps any other man she had known. He was possessed of great wit and humor which he deployed so sparingly that it always came as a happy surprise. As they ate, he brought her almost to tears with laughter more than once.

When he was the mood to charm, it became evident that Alexander had bottomless experience. He carried an overwhelming sensual power, enough to make any woman knock-kneed and his smile was close to a work of art.

When her lunch was done, she nodded to Alex. “Me, too,” she said.

“What do you mean?” Alexander asked.

She cleared her throat. “This feels like family.”