Page 60 of Heartbreaker of the Ton
Sir John stood beside her, the expression on his fleshy face conveying indifference, save the gleam of spite in his eyes.
“There is much to say about the sins of men, Lady Fulford,” Andrew said.
“But considerably more about the temptation of women, vicar,” Sir John said. “I would advise you not to instill an excess of modernity in your sermons.”
“Modernity?”
“Quite so,” Lady Fulford said. “The world thrives under a state of order, and on everyone knowing their rightful place.”
“Including women?”
“Especiallywomen,” Sir John said, his vehemence releasing a droplet of spittle that settled on his chin.
“We are all weak in the eyes of the Almighty,” Andrew said. “The greatest attribute we can possess is the humility to recognize our own failings and the willingness to atone for them.”
“Granted, those of us with failings must recognize them—but it’s up to those of uswithoutsuch failings to restore order.” Sir John stepped aside to let the rest of the congregation pass,ignoring most, but giving the occasional curt nod to those he deemed worthy, such as Mrs. Lewis, and Mr. and Mrs. Ham. “Look at them all,” he said, a sneer in his tone. “Where would they be without men of my station? Is it not godly to know one’s place in life?”
At that moment, Loveday Smith filed past with her husband. She drew in a sharp breath, glanced up at Sir John, and stiffened.
“Come along, woman,” her husband growled. “Don’t be makin’ a show of me.”
“Forgive me, Ralph,” she said quietly, and clung to his arm as he steered her along the path to the lychgate.
“Nowthere’sa man who knows his place,” Sir John said. “And he knows to keep his woman in line, lest she stray.”
Andrew’s stomach churned, and he caught his breath to temper the rise of nausea in his throat.
“Of course, some men are less able to withstand temptation,” Sir John continued, fixing his gaze on Andrew. “Perhaps your sermon was directed at them. But you must warn the weak minded against those who seek to tempt the unwary—sirens who draw men to their ruination by playing on their baser needs.”
At that moment, Etty crossed the threshold.
Their gazes met, and Andrew’s body tightened at the memory of last night, when, alone in his chamber, he’d succumbed to the samebase needsthat Sir John spoke of.
A faint blush colored her cheeks, and her eyes widened. The intensity of the blue only served to increase his shame. Did she know his thoughts, his desires? Surely she must after he’d conveyed them so plainly yesterday. Not with words, perhaps, but the violence of his body’s reaction was such that even the most innocent of creatures would be in no doubt of the sinful urges that had raged through his blood.
Ye gods—had Frannie not been standing beside the shore, he’d have been unable to stop himself. He would have thrown Etty to the ground and taken her among the waves to ease the torrent of lust in his soul. His manhood had surged in his breeches, yearning to be buried inside that delectable body bared to him through those flimsy petticoats. His mouth had watered at the sight of those perfectly rounded breasts with their dark pink nipples beckoning to him.
What had begun as an almost paralyzing fear when he’d seen her swimming, exposing herself to those treacherous currents—a fear so potent that his body ached with it—had morphed in an instant to the most powerful, uncontrollable lust. His senses had been beset by the most primal of needs—a need that his rational mind had been unable to conquer.
The need to mate.
He—an educated man, in a trusted position where he set the moral standard that elevated him above the ordinary—was nothing more than a beast. The ugly stains in his breeches were evidence enough of his savagery. But, not content with that, he’d stroked himself to pleasure while he lay alone in his cold bed last night, crying her name as he came to completion—only to wake to the cold light of dawn, beset by shame and self-loathing as he caught sight of the stains on his bedsheets.
But he could not bring himself to pray for forgiveness. Not because he feared that the prayer—as every other prayer he’d uttered—would go unanswered, but because a wicked little corner of his soul had relished the pure bliss of completion. That dark essence inside him believed that there was nothing to forgive.
And what was the merit in seeking forgiveness for a sin that he was bound to repeat, seeking satisfaction at his own hand as some small compensation that he could never seek pleasure at hers?
“Vicar!”
Lady Fulford’s voice returned him to the present, and he swallowed his shame at the realization that he’d been staring at Etty. “Yes, Lady Fulford?”
“I was saying that I require you to visit this afternoon, to discuss the village fete. I’m not satisfied that the new tenants at Newford Farm are making enough of an effort, and there’s barely a fortnight before the event. And Mrs. Dodds is making an awful business of the cake stall. She seems to have forgotten that the success of the village fete reflects upon us.”
“Can you not speak to them?” Andrew asked.
“You’re the vicar,” she replied. “It’s your duty to manage these things, and not be distracted by temptation.”
“I assure you, Lady Fulford, I’m not so distracted by temptation that I cannot undertake my duties properly,” Andrew said.
