I suppose only time will provide the answer to that question, but for now back to Evan.
I am determined to add my mite to Wolfbridge and a kitchen garden seems a good place to begin, since there is scarcely any shelter for the more tender plants. Evan has mint tucked into a tiny niche - from which he creates a mint sauce that is beyond delicious - but there should be more tidy spots for herbs that will over-winter.
Do you see, dear Diary, how fluent I am becoming in household matters? Discussing over-wintering herbs as if I knew which were which. But I’m sure Evan would be happy to help me learn such things. Have I mentioned his eyes? They are green sometimes and golden brown at others, depending on how the light shines on them. Should I call them hazel? Perhaps. But they match the rich red brown of his hair. His smile is as bright as can be; bright enough to almost warm one’s hands in front of it.
And I can attest to the firm appeal of his lips, since he pressed them to my wrist. How strange that such a simple touch stirs so many different parts of me. It would appear that a man’s tongue, when applied the right way to a woman’s skin - well, the result is no less than volcanic. If I may allow myself a small jest, I could easily be a gooseberry fool for Evan. (There, that wasn’t unacceptable, was it?)
That afternoon I met my first neighbour, and I am not sure it was all that it should have been. Giles warned me prior to our meeting that Sir Amery Fairhurst has a long-held interest in owning Wolfbridge. Merging this property with his would create a sizeable estate, dominating the area. And of course increasing Sir Amery’s prestige as well as his holdings.
Since my selling Wolfbridge is completely out of the question, Giles worries that Sir Amery would make an attempt to acquire me. Marriage would ensure the accomplishment of his goals, and he might not be above compromising me in some way to achieve his ends.
Thus we all put our minds together and have created a plan which - I hope - will provide for my safety while at Fivetrees tomorrow night.
Which brings me to Trick. He will be part of the plan, and I visited the stables to speak with him about it. I didn’t realise he has his own very neat quarters at the rear of the building and he invited me to visit, which I did with a great deal of interest. He has a room here in the Manor, but he explained that there is often a need to be near his charges for various reasons. He is wonderful with horses and they seem to love him back.
However - his private space. It was bigger than I’d expected, and warm from a fire in a hearth that looked quite old. He made us tea and allowed me to wander - whereupon I stumbled across some paintings. To my astonishment, he revealed that they were his work. And they were astounding, at least to my relatively untutored eyes.
His landscapes were vibrant, catching the hues of spring and the warmth of the autumn hereabouts. I would like to ask him to do one of Wolfbridge itself, so it might hang in the hall as a welcome to all who visit. Perhaps I might suggest it once spring has finally arrived and the weather improved.
I am not sure how to describe the other pictures. The ones of me.
Worked in charcoal, there were several studies and they shocked me, since they showed a woman I could not believe was myself. Where did my shy but intriguing smile come from? Is it only Trick who sees that in me or do they all recognise it?
Am I alluring? Am I sensual? His simple portraits of me make me seem to be both and perhaps more. If I am these things, it must be the gentlemen themselves who are bringing out those features of my personality. I certainly never imagined possessing them before now. The most interesting picture showed me with my shoulders bare and the way it was posed suggested the rest of me was bare as well.
I confess…for a few moments I felt the urge to ask Trick to finish the drawing. To make a portrait of me, without my clothes. I would be curious to see what his eyes and his talents could create, and what it could reveal about myself that I still don’t know.
Perhaps it was this arousing experience that led me to the most shocking part of my visit. Trick, gentleman that he is, seems to know intuitively how to make me feel…unique. He complimented me, yet warned me of the effect my innocence might have. He drew me close, touched my lips with his fingertips, then slipped an arm around my waist.
It is shocking, but I must go on because the emotions he aroused in me were beyond anything.
His kiss set my body alight and threatened to overwhelm me.
I felt him, hard, thick, pressed against my belly, and to my dismay I wanted to part my legs for him and rub against his maleness. My breasts were squeezed to his chest, but oh what a wonderful sensation; layer upon layer of deliciously exciting touches that inflamed something that I am growing to understand is desire.
I have never felt like this. My husband was not interested in arousing such a thing in me. His lusts were all for his own gratification.
But to be touched, held and caressed by someone who cares only for my pleasure - or at least it seems that way - it is hard to describe the wonder of it.
I inwardly quaked at the joy
