The Earl's Keeper

Ten - Oh

Zebediah wiped his brow and looked up when shade fell upon him. Mia smiled down and offered him a glass of fresh lemonade.

He smiled back at her and took the glass. 'Thank you, dear.'

'How goes the sowing?' She asked, looking over his handiwork so far.

'Magnificent, he's got the hands of a man born of the land I tell ya, Mia.' John shouted cheerfully as he came around from the front of the house. Bringing the unsaddled old cart horse with him. 'We'll be in business come the harvest. Zeb and I will make sure of it.'

Zebediah's smile widened. He had been irked at first by the informal and downright crude nick naming of his name. Now, he found he rather enjoyed the sense of closeness it gave to this dear friend and his daughter.

It had been a month gone and the people that had saved him from himself had not once spoken of him leaving. They had done more than opened up there home to him, but their hearts. In then, he was slowly yielding to their care and returning it eagerly.

This was the start of a new life for him.

~*~

William stormed down the hallway with the intent to return to his prized liquor cabinet and pour himself a strong brew. He had a hand scrunched in his dark locks and eyes almost half closed, when something bumped into him and let out a little yelp.

'Good heavens child,' he stumbled back as Nancy righted herself, cheeks still blazing red. 'I beg your pardon, I wasn't looking where I was going.' He mumbled.

Nancy bowed deeply, clutching a pile of white cotton materials in her arms. 'It was me fault, m'lord, forgive-'

'What's that you have there?' William interrupted with narrowed eyes to her baggage. The well worn material had seen better days. With patched up places of repair and idle stitching. The faint embroidery around, what appeared to be the collar, seemed very familiar to him and reminded him of a woman's, or rather her...

Nancy followed his gaze and stuttered. Her cheeks fusing a darker red. 'M-m'lady's che-chemise and under sk-skirts, m'lord!' She rushed the words out, stuttering and fumbling over her own tongue. Her eyes cast down to the floor. How embarrassing to name such things to a man, and not just any man, her lordship no less! She groaned inwardly. Colin would surely have her head if he learnt of this.

'Oh.' William simply said. His face feeling suddenly too hot. He had guessed right. All his rakish days had surely made him an expert in anything a woman wore beneath her outer jackets. He coughed for no apparent reason and cleared out his memories and his throat. 'May I ask why such necessities were...indisposed today?' His mind flashed a multitude of images, well burned into his mind, of a maiden in nothing but her stays. The heat under his collar was threatening to travel under his breeches, again.

Nancy froze. 'I-uh-that is to say...' she swallowed hard. 'M'lady dint have too much but what she came with first, see? We had to wash these here garments in the morn, was unclean, I just got em back; And there ain't been no orders made to the seamstress, m'lord.' She trailed off hastily. Unsure where to look but at her feet. Wondering if her last statement would get her into more trouble. But the man ought to bloody know his new wife had nought but what he saw her in! And my, what a scandal that had been! He should be ashamed twice over at having not noticed her state of dress these few days.

William's eyes enlarged momentarily. 'I see, you may go.' He dismissed the child who scurried away to the room he had just left.

Of all the bloody reasons, he mused to himself. Standing still in contemplation in the middle of the hallway. 'To think, I didn't even provide the bloody chit with the means to clothe herself!' He groaned and wiped a hand over his face. Knowing fully well that he had failed his obligatory duties as her husband, to provide for her. That, he had vowed to do upon their union. As reluctant as that what, it was a responsibility he took on.

In all the uproar of his father's sly deal of his marriage and subsequent death, not to mention the dreaded reading of the Will, he had completely forgotten about something so...domestic. Surely the house maids ought to have done something about it? But without his authorisation to fund the Countess' wardrobe, that point was mute and null. It had been his duty.

William groaned again, sounding like a pained animal. He had not even considered the fact a chit of her background would have nought but the clothes she stood in. No wonder the woman avoided him and any means of conversation. If she was anything like the women he had come across during his seasons in London, he would have hell's wrath to pay for this misconduct.

'She did not have even a clean chemise for the day!' He mumbled to himself, forgetting all about his drink and choosing to retire for the night. Or for the night. As you very well saw yourself. His mind replayed the scene of her slipping into her bedcovers, utterly, and delightfully, naked.

By god, you're a buffoon, William! He scolded himself. He was sure that his old man was turning in his grave -  with laughter at his predicament if anything.

He rang for his butler.

Colin appeared with haste and addressed his master.

'Send for the town seamstress, you know, the fancy one on the high street all the women hark about, and make sure the Wi-the Countess, receives a fitting  for a new wardrobe for someone of her standing.' He dismissed the butler and proceeded to strip for bed. Wishing once again, he had a valet to help. Or those golden toned limbs to undress you...his mind whispered to him. Reminding him once again of the show he had seen.

That night, as he closed his eyes, the images of her bare flesh haunted his dreams. Her naked body engrained to the back of his eyelids,  refused to give him respite. Making him growl with irritation at his desire for her body. Especially when she would smirk at him the way she did, the nerve! He wanted her. His wife.

~*~