Shev by Tracey Devlyn Read Free Book Online Page A

husband’s well-being. She saw the physical evidence that, for one more day, her world remained intact. A balm for an invisible scar created by a childhood where comfort and security were scarce.
    Much to his body’s dismay, Lynette’s expert caresses could not banish the damned governess from Shev’s mind. The courtesan’s hands had felt cold, her lips dry, her body…wrong. Had the same thing happened to Ethan after meeting Sydney?
    Visiting the bordello had opened the valve to dangerous fantasies. Until then, he’d been able to keep his mind on the curious details of Miss Crawford’s secrets, his attention veering to her kissable lips only once or twice.
    Once he’d opened his mind to Miss Crawford’s soft, creamy flesh; her plump, mouthwatering breasts; and her warm, inviting passage, he’d not been able to stanch the hot flow of blood driving through his veins or the sensual images imprinting his mind.
    He’d left Madame Rousseau’s frustrated and vibrating with need. It had been a mistake to go. It had been a bigger mistake to leave. Because now he stood outside Miss Crawford’s door, throbbing, shaking, visualizing their legs entwined. Their bodies connected. Deep. Penetrating. Mind splintering.
    Hard.
    His breeches strained against the pressure of his thickening cock. Pressing his back against the wall, he rolled his head toward Miss Crawford’s—Anne’s—door, willing it to open, urging her into the gloom-filled corridor.
    Wake up! Touch me. Kiss me. See me. Invite me into your bed and make me feel something besides this gnawing nothingness.
    No beautiful, sleep-drugged woman opened the door and beckoned him inside.
    Shev’s shoulders slumped; his eyes squeezed shut. A rusty prayer slipped between his lips.

 
    Chapter Seven
     
    The three-hour carriage ride to Lord Shevington’s country estate proved uneventful. One word to his lordship’s mother was enough to ensure Anne rode in a separate conveyance with Jacqueline and her nursemaid along with a teetering mound of baggage. Jacqueline took it all in with wide, curious eyes though she said little along the way.
    Fenmore Manor sat in the midst of a vast and vibrant parkland. Beautiful, manicured gardens encircled the four-story, centuries-old stone manor. Towering trees stood sentinel around the entire estate, their thick, sturdy branches spreading wide in a protective barrier.
    After the necessary introductions, an upstairs maid led Jacqueline and her nursemaid away. Given the heaviness of the girl’s eyelids, Anne suspected Jacqueline would soon be curling up in bed for a short, restorative nap.
    Another maid escorted Anne to her bedchamber on the third floor. The warmly decorated room was surprisingly spacious and overlooked the kitchen garden at the back of the house.
    In the distance, the landscape rose beyond the woodland, revealing the top of an unusual-looking structure. She squinted for a better look. A spherical rooftop peeked out above the trees, exotic and mysterious.
    Just the distraction she needed. Unlike Jacqueline, Anne’s exhilaration had grown with every mile that pulled them closer to Fenmore. She had planned to locate the schoolroom and prepare it for the following day’s activities before exploring her new surroundings. But the view outside her window convinced her to explore first and prepare later.
    Anne began peeling off her traveling clothes, replacing them with sturdy walking boots and a tightly woven, navy-blue day dress that could withstand the pricks and scrapes of the woodland’s underbrush. She finished her outdoor ensemble with a well-worn scarlet cloak, not bothering with a hat.
    Setting off in search of the housekeeper, Anne strode toward the servants’ staircase. The austere condition of her route held few clues about Fenmore’s master—only that he kept a well-qualified housekeeper on staff. Everything was in its proper place, not a speck of dust to be found.
    Upon her arrival, she had noted the quality