A Lady of Rooksgrave Manor - Kathryn Moon Page 0,3

in his eyes was brightening. “Exactly what we will do tonight. Now if you wouldn’t mind, Ms. Reed, I’d like you to undress while I set up.”

My hands automatically rose up to the buttons of my blouse at the request. “Will you watch, sir?”

The green faded, and he blushed a little deeper, looking down to the floor as his own grin bloomed. “There’s a screen by the fire. Change and leave your clothes there. I’m afraid I might find you too distracting.”

That declaration put a bounce in my step. Especially when I realized that the screen in front of the fire would create a lovely play of shadows for the doctor while I undressed. I made sure to twist and bend as much as possible as I stripped off all my layers. I didn’t mind him being a little distracted. When I was bent at the waist, rolling down my stockings with an exaggerated kind of slowness, there was a sudden, noisy, buzzing from the other side of the screen. I thought I heard a little huff of laughter as I tipped awkwardly to the side, bumping against the screen.

When I came out from behind the screen, the heat of the fire still bright on my skin, Dr. Underwood had his back to me. The shape of his silhouette was enormous and distorted over the stretch of bookshelves around the room, taking his slim form and turning it into something monstrous. I watched my own shadow creeping up to his, but it never seemed to reach the same gigantic presence on the wall.

“Where would you like me, sir?” I liked calling him that, liked that he hadn’t offered his first name. Most gentlemen liked to have you say their names before they flipped your skirts up, as if it might trick you into thinking you were important enough to know it without getting diddled.

Dr. Underwood turned and looked at me for a long time, eyes skimming down over my breasts. I shifted my legs, parting them, and his gaze stopped there. He was holding a strange instrument, with a black handle and a round metal head that had an extension stretching out from it, a red rubber bulb pointed in my direction. That must have been what always had Mrs. Pickering squealing and sighing.

Maybe he would want me on his desk, although I was hoping for a nice soft surface to relax in. I waited until he’d had his fill and looked back up at my face, the green bright in his eyes again and the angles of his face sharper.

“Would you come to the chaise?” he asked, gesturing to the long armless couch that sat in the center of the room. I walked to it and started to sit down before he interrupted me. “On your knees, hands on the back of the headrest.”

I lost my breath at that, thinking of him towering behind me while I was unable to see what he might be planning. I knelt on the couch, which was wide enough for me to spread my legs apart, and this time, it was Dr. Underwood’s breath that caught, stuttering behind me.

“Good, sir?” I asked, mostly to tease. I arched my back like a cat in heat, which wasn’t so far off from how I felt, really. There was an itchy, achy feeling running under my skin. I wanted to rub myself against the velvet of the couch, against Dr. Underwood’s tidy suit too.

“Very good, Ms. Reed,” he said, the growl still rolling in the back of his voice. His shadow covered the wall in front of me, blocking out my own, and when his hand landed at the base of my back, very gently, I twitched in surprise. “Are you comfortable?”

I thought I’d be more comfortable on my back with him between my legs, but I didn’t say so. “Yes, sir.”

His hand slid over the swell of my bottom down to my thigh, and I dug my fingers into the soft velvet of the chaise. “You’re a very beautiful young woman,” he said.

“I know, sir,” I said, grinning at the wall. It wasn’t just that men liked to say so. I had pretty, delicate features and nice glossy dark hair, and I was vain enough to fuss over how I looked. I’d always been scrawny growing up, but the Pickerings had been generous with their staff, and after a year there, I’d finally looked like a woman, which was good since I was past twenty