Sweet Alice by Leelou Cervant

Author:Leelou Cervant
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: erotic historical, 1600s, romance historical, erotic historical romance, romance 1600s, erotic romacne

SIX

Some hours after he’d sent Alice off to the safety of her apartments, Anthony had finally emptied Wickleigh-on-Thames of its guests for good. Lady Marsdale had been the last to leave, her severe mien alluding to her displeasure. Anthony cared not. After her unkind treatment towards Alice, he knew himself justified in his new aspiration never to clap eyes on the woman again.

Not bothering to watch the lady’s coach make it to the end of the drive, Anthony reentered the house. Obliged to suffer the lingering presence of his guests as their servants had prepared for their departures, he’d been plagued by vivid images of Alice’s naked form and the enchanting sound of her pleasure. On several occasions during these wanderings he’d become sorely aroused. Now that the house was free of all foreign persons, and Old Groulart—as he liked to call his father-by-marriage—yet away in London, he was eager to find Alice. While unsure of her inclination of a repeat of last eve’s surprising occurrence, he reasoned there was only one way to found out.

Taking the stairs by twos Anthony obtained the second level of the house and made straight for Alice’s apartments.

She was not there.

Sauntering back out into the corridor, he kept walking till he came upon a servant. An inquiry after Miss Groulart’s whereabouts gained him nothing, for the servant claimed not to have seen her for hours.

Considering that Alice might have returned to the study, Anthony went there next. Finding the room empty he frowned and ruminated where the girl could have gone off to. Having not the faintest idea, he left the study and began an assiduous search of the house for the one who’d haunted his every thought since opening his eyes that morning.

* * *

A long while later, when the faint sound of coach wheels woke her, Alice sat up drowsily and looked towards the stone bridge spanning the river. After the first carriage achieved the north bank of the Thames, another coach rolled after it, then a third.

Knowing Anthony’s guests had come in three shared vehicles, Alice sighed in thankfulness and began to put back on her stockings and heels. Rising, she shaded her eyes and squinted up at the sun. It was at the halfway point between its zenith and the western horizon. In an hour or so Cook would have diner ready.

Feeling her cap at an awkward position upon her head, Alice unpinned it and tossed it to join her book now in the basket. Espying her marigold in the grass she picked it up and brought it to her nose. Its unique fragrance barely lingered, its many petals now limp.

Basket upon her arm, Alice ambled off towards the house at an indolent pace, stroking her check and neck and bosom with the fragile petals of her wilting bloom. As she did this over and over, stimulating images of Anthony’s wondrous mouth upon her in a like fashion caused her skin to tingle. By the time she entered the house

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