Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

T he corners of James's mouth curled a little as if he was suppressing a smile. "I am curious as to your thoughts."

Sarah lowered her lashes to hide her naked longing. "I will explain. Allow me a few more questions."

"Hmm," he said, a single finger tapping against his knee.

"Once you secure a means to travel, will you return to town or Penporth?"

She curled her fingers into the coverlet until they ached. James's responses were important to her next steps.

"I will go to Penporth," he said, his regard piercing on her.

Sarah swallowed. "Why there?"

The corner of his mouth lifted in a self-ridiculing smile. "Because I am certain my entire family will rush down when they learn I was kidnapped. I also need to see Mr. Sinclair to understand what necessitated his actions."

Her heart was pounding too hard. "Perhaps he felt you compromised his daughter."

"Perhaps," he said noncommittally.

"Have you taken liberties?"

"Bloody hell, Sarah—"

"Answer me, James."

"No. I was always the gentleman on our walks."

Relief pierced her chest. "Do you love Mirabelle?"

"She shares my love for the countryside and the simpler things in life."

Sarah felt a pang of jealousy, but she pushed it aside. "Do you love her ?"

James hesitated, his gaze distant. "No. However, I like and admire her."

"Please tell me why you are open to marrying her if it is not for love."

He held her stare for a long time as if trying to dissect her innermost thoughts.

"I've never felt like I belonged in the ton . Colin is the Earl of Celdon and thrives in that world, but it always felt like a charade for me. I do not belong there. The few times I traveled to town were for my family, especially my sisters." James smiled, a fond look crossing his face. "My sisters are remarkable women. They are intelligent, strong-willed, and kind-hearted. I attended the balls and the theatre to ensure they have the opportunities they deserve, even if it means enduring the social obligations I detest."

"I see," she said softly, her heart squeezing. "This is the reason you thought about marrying Miss Mirabelle. She is not a part of the ton ."

"Yes."

Have you never wondered if I could live outside of the ton , James? she silently asked, her throat aching. For Sarah, some things could not be conveyed through words but actions. She would have to show this stubborn wretch they were perfect for each other. But first, the most important question had to be asked.

"Have you closed yourself from loving another woman, given what happened with Evelyn?"

He stilled, his eyes narrowing to slits. "Ester," James snapped. "I am going to wring her neck."

Sarah lifted her chin. "I only asked her once if you have any attachment, and she mentioned that you once loved someone called Evelyn."

"I do not like rehashing the past, and Evelyn is the past." James grimaced and raked his fingers through his hair. "Is this important for you to know?"

Warmth blossomed throughout her body. "Yes."

"Evelyn is the daughter of a viscount, a woman I thought I loved. I courted her, even proposed, but she rejected me. What she liked was the pleasure I gave her body. Given her reaction to my proposal, it was a wonder she accepted me as a lover. She scolded me for my arrogance, saying that, as a pig farmer, I would dare want to marry her. It was a harsh lesson but a necessary one I grew to appreciate."

Sarah reached out, placing a hand on his arm. Another jolt of his scent hit her, accompanied by a sudden wave of physical awareness. Sarah's entire body reacted to his closeness, nipples pebbling, stomach tightening. She snatched her hand from his arm. "I am sorry, James. That must have been painful."

His mouth curved though no emotions reached his eyes. "As I said, it was a good lesson. It made me realize that I must live on my terms, not according to someone else's expectations."

Sarah knew he spoke of Lady Celdon, who had great expectations that everyone in their family should marry well since they were now so elevated. Sarah bit her bottom lip, recalling when her mother had cautioned her about dancing frequently with James.

Mr. Fairbanks might misconstrue your friendliness, Sarah, and dare to make an offer. Though he is the brother of an earl, he is not good enough for our family, and you must be careful .

Her mother had said those words with a smile, even as they flayed open Sarah's heart.

"I shall tell you why I asked these questions, James," she said with a small smile.

His mouth quirked in a sensual smile. "That smile tells me I should be very afraid."

Sarah laughed, canted her head and held his regard, desperately trying to calm the wild pounding of her heart. "We will be alone for a few days. I mean to behave like a libertine."

A choking sound came from him. "What did you say?"

"I mean to seduce you, James Fairbanks."

"You damn hellion! You will not—"

"This is my choice."

"No," he said through gritted teeth.

The air between them was charged with unspoken emotions. "You want me," she said. "Do you deny this?"

His blue eyes were sharp and probing as he continued to stare at her. "I want you more than I have ever wanted anyone in my life," James said hoarsely. "But this … would not end well. You cannot hand me your virtue—"

"It is my choice."

They stared at each other until the yawning emptiness that haunted Sarah expanded through her body. "I do not expect an offer of marriage afterward, only pleasure."

A look of torment crossed his face, and he closed his eyes briefly as if trying to gather his thoughts. He opened his eyes, the blue depths filled with conflict and longing. "Sarah, I …"

"If you have the means to resist me, do so," she drawled provocatively. "Do not waste your words trying to convince me against my desires."

Your move, James Fairbanks .

A bright splash of color bloomed over Sarah's cheekbones as she held his gaze with a fierceness that was at once captivating and alarming. She looked so damn sweet and innocent, sitting there with her mass of hair tumbled over her shoulders, his shirt too large on her petite frame, gaping where it revealed the soft hollow of her throat and the hint of her cleavage. Her eyes were wide and luminous and beautiful.

If James had any sense, he would launch from the bed and go and finish his sleep in one of the empty rooms. Sleep on the hard, cold floor if necessary. There was a spark of confidence and good humor in the eyes that peeked at him. He tried to calm the want pounding through him. The damn chit planned to seduce him. And though he was tempted, he would be the worst sort of bounder to allow it, knowing he would not marry her. James was very decisive, a trait his mother often cursed. Any lady he courted should have simple wants and needs like himself. The ton was very cruel and hypocritical. James wanted to live unrestrained, and the part of the ton he found acceptable was only his family. He had decided never to marry a quality lady. He was comfortable with that decision and would adhere to it.

Temptation tugged him forward, and he pushed from the bed. Sarah's stomach growled loudly, causing her to blush.

The sexual tension holding James rigid reduced, and he chuckled. "It sounds like you need something to eat. There's some food in the larder. I'll make us something."

"I will join you."

"Your chemise and undergarments should be dry by now. There's also dental powder and soap if you wish to freshen up. Firewood is limited, but I can heat a few buckets of water for you to take a warm bath."

Her eyes crinkled at the corners with her smile. "Thank you, James. I can manage with cold water."

"No, you had a fever last night," he said gently.

She lowered her chin in acquiescence. "Very well. I would like a bath after we finish eating."

He led her downstairs to the kitchen, a spacious room with high ceilings and large windows. The kitchen had a large hearth, a sturdy wooden table, and several cabinets and shelves with basic provisions.

James set about preparing a simple meal of bread, cheese, fruits, and some tea to help warm them. As they ate, he found himself acutely aware of every detail about Sarah—the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders in loose waves, the delicate curve of her neck, and the way her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she looked around the kitchen. The shirt slipped slightly off one shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her collarbone and the smooth skin beneath. His shirt seemed to emphasize her femininity rather than hide it. Every movement drew his gaze, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his thoughts from wandering to a wicked, debauched leaning.

That spark in her eyes suggested she perfectly knew she was tempting.

"You have been spending too much time with my sisters," he said irritably, thinking about all the shenanigans they have done.

Sarah smiled. "I see you are wondering where I got the nerve to boldly tell you I plan to bring you to your knees. Poppy told me it could be done like that."

The sip of tea went the wrong way, and James spluttered. The teasing wretch laughed, clearly delighted that she rattled him. Worse, he did not want to think about the things he could do to her on his damn knees or by placing Sarah on hers.

"Tell me more about this place," she said, looking around the kitchen as if she had not tossed him out of sorts. "What drew you to it?"

James glared at her, and she only sweetly smiled.

"I've always loved places with history. This manor has stood here since the Tudors and has been renovated a few times."

Her eyes widened. "Truly?"

"Yes. I felt a connection to it the first time I saw it. It was in terrible condition, but I could see the potential beneath the neglect."

"How long have you been working on it?"

"Almost a year. I have a team of good workers who understand my vision."

Sarah took a sip of her tea, her eyes thoughtful. "It must take a lot of work to restore a place like this."

"It does," he admitted. "But it's worth it. I enjoy the challenge of modernizing something but keeping its beauty and charm. It's like uncovering hidden treasures, piece by piece. More strawberries?"

She nodded, and he pushed the small bowl of fruits toward her. They fell into a companionable silence, the sound of the rain and the crackling fire in the hearth filling the space between them. He enjoyed the moments of silence that fell between their threads of conversation. James watched Sarah nibble on a piece of cheese, her movements delicate and graceful. He marveled at how easily and natural it felt to have her with him. Her presence seemed to fill the room with a warmth that rivaled the fire, and he felt a growing sense of contentment.

A gusty sigh of satisfaction left her, and she pushed aside the empty fruit bowl. "Will you show me the manor?"

James stood, and as he did, she shifted closer, slipping her palm into his, the fit perfect and natural.

"If I fall, I can grab onto your arm," she drawled.

The little minx was laughing at him with her eyes, a playful glint dancing in their depths. He could feel the softness of her skin against his calloused palm, the subtle pressure of her fingers interlacing with his. The closeness was intoxicating, every nerve in his body acutely aware of her.

"You are going to use every opportunity to touch me."

"I most certainly will."

James suppressed his smile and led her from the kitchen. They walked through the various rooms, each one holding its own charm and history. James pointed out the renovations he had completed and those still in progress. The manor had several bedchambers, a grand dining room, a library with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a large, formal sitting room with tall windows overlooking the grounds.

As they explored, James appreciated Sarah's genuine interest and appreciation for his work. It was a refreshing change from the superficial conversations he often had at society gatherings.

After the tour, he heated a few pans of water in the kitchen and took them to the bath for her. James added more logs to the fire in the bedchamber, glanced at the screen, and froze. Her silhouette was displayed in stark relief as she tugged the shirt over her head. The curve of her breasts and the rounded shape of her hips were a tantalizing tease, the flickering firelight casting her form in a sensual glow.

His breath caught in his throat as he watched her, his body reacting instinctively to the intimate display. He could see the delicate slope of her shoulders and the gentle sway of her movements, each a silent invitation to his imagination.

"I am going to check the grounds and assess the roads. I won't be long," he said a bit desperately, his voice strained with the effort to maintain control.

"Ah, so this is how a rake feels when he pursues a lady for debauchery, and she is skittish," she purred, her voice dripping with playful mockery.

James stared up at the ceiling and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to steady his racing thoughts. He was painfully, shockingly aroused by mere words. The temptation to stay and watch her was almost overwhelming, but he knew he had to resist. He needed to put some distance between them before he did something he would regret.

Hastening from the bedchamber, he tried to recall all those damnable etiquette lessons with his sister-in-law Hermina. The ones she claimed were made specifically for the Fairbanks brothers.

A gentleman did not seduce a friend's sister.

A gentleman's mouth should not water at the thought of licking said lady's sex. Admittedly, that rule was all his.

A gentleman should not take a woman to his bed unless he means to marry her.

A gentleman should not take advantage of a lady's evident feelings when he knows he would not reciprocate.

A gentleman should not give in to a lady's seduction when her family was relying on his honorable conduct to keep her safe, even from his lust.

A gentleman should always maintain a decorum of respect and propriety, never allowing desire to cloud his judgment or compromise his principles.

A gentleman should protect a lady's reputation and virtue at all costs, ensuring her honor remains intact.

As James descended the stairs, the little devil inside him whispered that he was far from a gentleman and most assuredly a rogue and a scoundrel.