Chapter 21

Sarah

"Friends show their love in times of trouble." ― Euripides

Sarah's wrath lasted no longer than it took to walk back to Ivy Cottage. By the time she had reached her home, her ire had been tempered by worry for her friend. Why had he hurt himself? What could have happened yesterday to upset him so? It was quite clear to her that Benjamin was going through a difficult and painful time. The horrors he had seen in the war were unfathomable. A man as gentle and sensitive as Benjamin was never going to come back from four and a half years of such torment unchanged. It was bound to leave a mark on him, not just in the physical form of his scar.

As his friend, she would do everything in her power to help him. But how? What could she do to undo years of hurt and misery? She did not know for sure, but she would start by going to see him on the morrow and spending time in his company.

Her musings were interrupted by the arrival of Philip Templeton, bringing with him the scenic panel he had painted for her miniature railway. She stifled a sigh and went to greet him as Elsie opened the front door. "Philip, good morning."

He set his fond gaze on her. "Good morning, sweet Sarah," he called out cheerfully. "Look what I have brought for you."

She smiled, "I cannot wait to see it set in place. Let us do it now." She led him into the back parlour, where he proceeded to remove the paper wrapped around the panel for protection. Then, very carefully, he lowered it onto the table, slotting it into the grooves at each end to secure it in place. They both took a step back to admire the view. "It is just the thing," praised Sarah.

"I am glad you like it," he said, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her to his side.

She nestled into his body, subduing a feeling of unease, and inhaled his manly cologne—was the scent of it always this cloying? Aloud, she asked, "What next for you, now that you have completed this painting?"

He grinned with boyish excitement. "Thanks to you, Sarah, I have discovered a new muse, that of transportation. I have thoughts to complete a series of tableaus documenting the changes from old to modern, from horse-drawn coaches to steam-powered locomotives. I propose to entitle the series ‘Locomotion through the Ages'. What think you?"

"I think it a splendid idea," she replied with a smile.

"In which case, my dear," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, "I hope you will not mind if I absent myself for a few days to go to London and make some preliminary sketches. I am impatient to get started on this endeavour. It is this way with me when I am struck by inspiration."

"No, of course not," she said. A part of Sarah wondered if he was more enthusiastic about the project than spending time with his betrothed.

"That is one of the things I like about you, Sarah," he said, turning her body to face his. "You abound with good sense. I know you will not cling and beg for attention like a young, simpering miss."

"I would never do so," she replied hollowly.

"You, my dear, are a treasure," he murmured, swooping his lips down to hers. "Now, how about a kiss for your betrothed before he leaves?"

His lips brushed hers coaxingly, and knowing now what was expected, she parted her own to allow him in. She felt his tongue sweep into her mouth and caress hers. It still felt rather odd to her, but not unpleasant. Her hands slid up his broad chest as he drew her close and kissed her repeatedly, open mouth to open mouth. This business of kissing was slick and messy, she thought, as she let one hand travel higher to settle on his smooth jaw. She stroked it, absently wondering how it would feel if it were covered in a beard she could run her fingers through. A vivid image came to her mind of one such beard, brown hair laced with silver. She shivered and clenched deep in her core, releasing a flood of her arousal.

It was then that Philip broke the kiss, pulling back with a rueful expression. "If I am not careful, Sarah, I will get carried away and behave most improperly when I so very much want to do things the right way with you."

"It was quite delightful," she panted, trying to catch her breath.

Philip's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he dropped his hands from around her. "But for now, it is best I take my leave," he said. "Goodbye, sweet Sarah. I shall send word when I return."

"Goodbye Philip, God be with you."

With one last smile, Philip bowed, picked up his hat and departed. Sarah stood listening to the closure of the door behind him as he left. A moment later, she was hurrying up the stairs to her room. Once there, she latched the door and began to unbutton her dress, removing it carelessly and throwing it over a chair. Next came off her shoes and damp drawers. Still in her shift, petticoat and corset, she threw herself on the bed and brought her fingers to her wet core. Oh the need she felt! She pressed her legs together, trying to sate the longing. When that was not enough, she took two folds of the blanket and pressed it to her aching core. Face down on the bed, she buried her face in the pillow, imagining someone kissing her madly, the scratch of his beard on her soft skin. All the while she pressed her core to the folded blanket between her legs, seeking that blessed release. With a muffled cry, she felt the contractions of a powerful orgasm pulse through her body, over and over until she lay spent.

Eventually, she turned to lie on her back and stared at the ceiling, a sense of guilt and dismay seeping into her chest. In the mad throes of her passion just now, it had not been her betrothed that she had imagined, but Benjamin Stanton.