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CHAPTER 27

The whole house was in such a flurry of activity that Sarah Jane found it difficult to have her breakfast in the dining area. She took her plate and quickly filled it with fresh scones, crumpets, bacon, and eggs. Carefully, she balanced the plate on her hands, standing on her toes, clutching the plate to her chest as she scooted to the side to allow a footman carry a towering vase of the whitest flowers she has ever seen. Her movement brought her to the end of the hall leading to the archway where no noblewomen passed. The kitchen was a place only for the working class.

The room's coldness concealed any hints of the activity that concocted the gracious breakfast spread. Her boot scraped the division on the floor where the creamy limestone tiles of the dining hall ended, and where the hardened gravel and natural stones began. Telltale signs of years of work and grime had solidified its surface while the rancid oils was thankfully masked by the dried leaves and flowers scattered on the cool ground.

Placing a tentative step within the expanse? she eyed a familiar jar of reddish purple goo while her thoughts drowned in all things Killsworth. They had indeed shared a jar of jam on the day they met, and somehow somewhere between that day and today Anthony had clammed up, becoming this brooding beast who would shut her off when she came too near.

Heavy footfalls fast approached the room, as light revealed the intruder, Mathilda inquired of her presence as she set an water pot over a brick. "What are you doing here?"

Sarah Jane eyed Mathilda's dirty apron, looking every bit as pleased when she recognized the reddish splatters of sweet jam. "You made my favorite jam?"

Mathilda nodded with a smile. "Been to the market and saw a fresh batch of berries being delivered by a hackney." She took one glance at the girl's plate, "Come now, I've made this just before the break of dawn."

Sarah Jane hurried to her side and hugged the portly lady from behind, unable to conceal her gratitude. She needed this, something close to home, something comforting, after being plagued by confusing thoughts of Lord Killsworth and his reluctance to love her.

Matilda left her in peace, and she decided that although the room was drafty, no one would disturb her eating there. Sometimes, the balm to one's broken soul is freedom from judging eyes.

Sarah Jane quickly pulled a metal stool and placed her plate on the cleanest brick counter. After rubbing her palms on her skirts, she sliced two scones open, aligning it side by side as she meticulously scooped up heaps of warm jam into them. She allowed the sweetness seep into the crumb, smiling as the scone deflated halfway from the weight of the jam. She took a mouthful of eggs then broke a piece of bacon with her hands.

"Mmm..." This was heaven. She was sure there was indeed no better God to have blessed English soil with such good produce.

Deriving this much pleasure from eating could be considered a sin, but she rather thought it was a gift. No animal she have observed looked quite ecstatic when they eat. Horses and cows ate greenery like boredom consumed their very soul. Lions and beasts, she was told, ate like the very devil. Humans, she was beginning to think, are the favorite of God because they are allowed to derive pleasure from food. It was magic.

A small drop started to form on the edge of the open scone. She took her finger to it, cleaning its sides and placed it on her lips. She could feel its warmth, its sticky consistency, as her tongue darted out for a taste. She smiled, biting her lower lip from excitement and looking like a girl of six as she went to break another piece of bacon.

"I have never seen anyone enjoy eating so much."

She whipped her head to the familiar sound, the low vibrating hum of his voice sending her shivers of familiarity and anticipation. "Good morning, my lord." She greeted cheerily and then went back to her bacon, licking her fingers in the process.

"Would you like to join me?" Throwing the question behind her as she concentrated on the piece of bacon. No one in their right mind ignores a piece of bacon.

He walked inside and stopped behind her, smiling as he eyed her plate. "I am needed somewhere."

Anthony had been standing by the door, hat in his hands, for quite some time before he had announced his presence. He was running towards the front door when he had spotted her ashen hair inside the open kitchen. He would have recognized that hair anywhere.

Just by its sight, he already knew and imagined how its strands, always silky smooth, will dissipate between his fingers in disarray, as its beguiling scent assails his nostrils.

Truthfully, he had intended for an early morning stroll which was why he was running to the door. But seeing her made his strides unconsciously move closer, unable to resist her magnetic pull. He just wanted to know what she was doing, and after having satisfied his curiosity, he would go about his schedule like any normal London day.

But he had crossed the dining hall, now in the kitchen and moved about the room, taking his time eyeing the kitchen tables, as if he was looking for something and nothing in particular. Following a few minutes and having satiated his curiosity and need to see her, he started to head back out, taking two strides at a time.

Seeing as her effect on him was still the same, he sought to get some air, just to be alone and distance himself before irrevocably drowning in her.

"Wait!" Sarah Jane hurried after him, and he didn't seem to hear her as he went straight for the door.

"My lord, wait!" She reached him as Barnaby opened the door for him.

He had heard her the first time and didn't think she would try to catch up to him the second time. Anthony stopped. His body remaining rigid as he waited for her to come up to him. His shoulders showed eagerness for the exit, but his cheek slightly faced the lady running after him. His side-eye acknowledged the fact that yes, he had indeed heard her.

Her grin was unmistakable when she reached him. Her hands cupped a hastily covered scone sandwich. Anthony's hands itched to put the walking hat on his head and be done with it.

"My lord, I can't let you go on about your day when you haven't breakfasted."

He twisted to look at her, startled as he slowly comprehended what she wanted to do. Surely, she wouldn't think that he would take his already gloved fingers to touch that purple doused scone. After all, his valet had decided to give him white gloves today.

"Oh." She seems to have noticed the dilemma.

Wordlessly, Anthony moved to leave and Barnaby wrenched the door open.

"I said wait." Her fingers gingerly plucked the scone from her palm, and gestured to him, opening her mouth as she urged him to follow the motion.

Stop resisting me, my dear Killsworth.

His eyes widened. Was she trying to feed him with her bare hands?

In front of his butler, no less.

She nodded encouragingly, pushing the scone closer to his face. Just a little more.

"No, I must..." He muttered, but the jam had already touched his lips and he was forced to open his mouth to accept the assault if he did not want the entire thing plastered on his chin.

He darted a fretful glance at the butler, almost as if in askance to save him from this savage of a girl.

Laughing triumphantly, Sarah Jane found that feeding Lord Killsworth will be added to her many favorite things to do with him. Topping this list would be kissing him, but feeding him is a very close second.

She pushed the scone all the way in, forcing his cheeks to balloon from the invasion as jam oozed out on the corners of his lips. "Oh! So so very sorry, my lord." She gave him a winning smile as her right hand cupped his face, a thumb deftly swiping the corners of his mouth in one swift motion, removing the stain while gently brushing his lips as the rest of her warm fingers deftly cuddled the length of his jaw.

Love me. Her mind demanded, but she did not let on.

"There you are!" She said instead, giving him her best cheer and then made a show of sucking on her jam-stained thumb.

Or kiss me. She grumbled in her mind.

He needed to get out.

Something warm was spreading in his chest again, and he couldn't control it any longer. Anthony managed a curt nod, chewing and swallowing at the same time, followed by hurried strides to leave the house.

Sarah Jane smiled widely, winking at Barnaby before sauntering back to the kitchen to continue her breakfast.

Once outside, Anthony welcomes the feeling of the sun's rays on his face. He was finally able to swallow the damned thing, and after doing so, he let out a pained curse. He needed to find something sensible. For the second time this week, he seems to be looking for something concrete, something manly... desperately.

Even when the chill in the early morning air forced some of the serviceable women on the streets to tighten their coats around their necks, Anthony's forehead started to break a sweat as he proceeded to walk about the town.

It was too early for the ton to be frolicking in the park, and he relished the opportunity to be alone with his thoughts. Too much has happened all too fast for his liking.

Who was he kidding? Some god in heaven is making a sport of him.

He had bedded many women, seduced and flirted with wenches and ladies alike as long as they had possessed a bosom and were willing—and god bless them all as they were most often, if not always, willing. He doubted himself leaving broken hearts as most of his exploits were all looking for play and to the best of his knowledge, he has never left any of them unsatisfied.

Mariah Borough was his penance for this carefree life, and he understood and accepted this. He paid for his crimes against women just with one slip of a girl who had caught him entirely off guard. His ego would have scoffed at him for being so pitiful if it were another man.

He wasn't certain which one hurt more. The fact that it took him merely two days to fall in love with a young wily girl who knew how to play the game better than him; or the fact that there existed a young wily girl who knew how to play the game better than him.

Anthony was sure that he had suffered enough.

A shop's bell sounded as the door opened to reveal a hatted lady with golden blonde hair. She was followed with a slightly taller lady with even a more buttery shade of blonde.

He stopped, observing them from across and waited for them to pass and ride their parked carriage. Both of their profiles seem familiar and Anthony began to believe that he might just have the talent for summoning the very devil at will.

She noticed him then, turning to him and offering him a small polite smile. "Lord Killsworth." She greeted, motioning to the shorter blonde and introducing her to him.

Ah, Lady Edward will always be Mariah Borough in his mind. She was still as lovely as he remembered. The urge to flee the scene was only tempered by the fact that the witnesses to this encounter were a young Miss Millicent Wetherby, and a waiting coachman.

"Pleasure to meet you." The shorter blonde dipped her head with a sweet smile, a gesture which was practiced a thousand times for the sole purpose of befuddling men who were easily disoriented by beauties.

"I was just accompanying Miss Millicent to buy some ribbons for her hair. She will be in attendance tonight at Lady Killsworth's dinner party." Lady Edward said in a voice all light and filled with underhanded meaning.

Anthony knew why Mariah chose to mention this. She feels slighted that she did not receive an invitation. But she would be a fool to think that just because it is seen as socially improper to cut ties with her that an invitation would be issued to her. It was his house. To hell with social impropriety.

He would never invited the very devil that caused him his ruin, even if he was utterly foxed and inebriated.

In fact, he might just even gift Mariah with a cut direct. Company and witness be damned.

He nodded to the shorter girl, recalling how Sarah Jane had spoken of her, envious of her charms and talent and poise. He gave her appearance one assessing glance. Granted, he allows that she may be a beauty in ton's standards, but she wasn't a woman enough to tempt him.

"I suppose I shall see you at tonight's dinner party then, Miss Millicent?" If this wasn't clear enough, we shall only be seeing you, he wanted to add.

She nodded, a smile pleasantly adorning her pale face, "I am thoroughly excited for the dance as Lady Killsworth hires the most talented of musicians."

His brow betrayed his true thoughts as he immediately caught Miss Millicent's machinations. Amazed by how he had learned so much of women's games this past year, he smiled a little crazily, thinking that this might be his only chance to say something wicked and cutting with no one but Lady Edward's small party in attendance.

"Then I shall hope that you bring your best dancing shoes."

Miss Millicent immediately lowered her gaze, looking absolutely embarrassed at his obvious refusal to offer for one of her dances. Lady Edward glared at him. She was probably thinking that it was a customary, not to mention a courteous thing to do, to have invited her after talking about the party so openly.

But he ignored them both, enjoying his newfound power.

Having bested his demons, Anthony gave them a flash of his jaunty grin as he walked past them, immediately feeling the need to tell someone about his triumph. He hadn't said a single word to Lady Edward, and yet he had managed to insult both her pride and female sensibilities. He couldn't be more proud of himself. Lady Edward had nothing on him now, he was free.

It is funny how fear disappears once you refuse to give it power. Months of turmoil would have been saved if he knew this sooner.

Anthony's head made an imperceptible bob as he sauntered along the street, his gait faltering as he caught the sight of another familiar female rounding the corner. She had quite a number of boxes against her chest.

"Your grace!" He greeted her, quickly and easily steadying his friend's wobbly stride. His arms reflexively pulled out, catching one of her toppling boxes.

The young duchess, Lady Ravensdale, gave him a sideways glance, her bonnet loosening towards the back of her head, its ribbons tightening against her throat as it slid down her spine.

"Oh! It's you." She grinned from ear to ear, embarrassed by her lack of good deportment.

Anthony gave one last glance at the two retreating ladies who boarded their carriage and then focused at the blushing duchess in front of him who was currently torn between apologizing and imploring him to help her.

Immediately, he took some of the boxes from Lady Ravensdale's hands, shuffling against its slightly opening lids while he resisting a knowing grin from having stolen a glance at its contents.

They easily matched strides, and he began to tease her, suddenly finding himself in the very best of moods. "Why have you no maid or servant to help you today, your grace? Are your purchases a very private matter?" He inquired, his voice hinting an unassuming nature, yet his true meaning was not missed by the young matron.

Shyly, she bumped his shoulders with hers. "Please don't laugh or tease. I'm sure you already know or have seen what is in them."

Oh yes, he definitely knew and seen what's in them. That kind of see-through lace and shocking color could only be deduced as one unmistakable type of dressing, or undressing, as the case might be.

Damn that Ravensdale, he was in for a hell of a surprise.

Anthony chuckled heartily.

"Anthony!" The duchess protested, looking much redder than a freshly ripened tomato. "Please just help me."

"I am always at your service, your grace." He said mockingly as they walked slowly towards the end of the street.

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A/N: Hi! Here's an update for you! I'm slowly trying to introduce you to Anthony's world more intimately. He's always been out and about and I think the only time we saw some parts of his life was when he was with his male friends. I thought it would be interesting if readers get to see how he interacts with different women aside from our heroine.

I'll update in a few days! I'm just editing the next chapter to make sure everything is where it should be.

If you like this, kindly give it a vote! Thank you so much to those who have been reading, voting and commenting! I think it's working! I'm seeing more and new people getting introduced to my book, and really, just getting people to read my work is my goal! Thank you so much!

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