Lukas glanced at Silas, and a light of recognition dawned across his face.
“Ah, I see you’ve met Lord Hamilton. Yes, they are indeed related. Lord Hamilton is the grandson of the old Duke’s sister, and thus, he is next in line for the dukedom.”
“Oh,” Agnes sat back, accepting the cup of tea Lukas set in front of her with a smile of gratitude. “So… why do they hate each other so much?”
Lukas left her side briefly to set a cup of tea on the Duke’s desk and returned saying,
“Well, after the old Duke passed, it was discovered that he had left nothing in his will to Lord Hamilton, and it caused him to become antagonistic, and now, he views His Grace as his enemy. He has attempted to ruin his businesses countless times but has never been successful, as his plans are usually… subpar.” Lukas sighed in disappointment. “He also participates in the horse competitions every year for the last three years but always comes in second place to the Duke – which only seemed to fuel his anger and hatred.”
“I’m going to let him win this year. Perhaps if he has what he’s wanted for some time now, he will finally shut up,” Silasgrumbled, not taking his eyes off his document as he scribbled down on a piece of paper.
Lukas looked affronted by the Duke’s statement, turning to him in surprise.
“Your Grace, you cannot do that! Your grandfather would never have approved of the idea of throwing a match – especially not when it came to horse riding, which he loved dearly.”
Silas finally lifted his head, his tone clear and cold as he said,
“I did not ask for your opinion, Lukas. Leave.”
The butler scrambled to bow and exited the room, leaving Agnes to her thoughts.
Clearly, this was far deeper than an extreme competitiveness between two men, and perhaps she could present a solution that favored her and the Duke.
With her mind made up, she turned to him, holding his gaze firmly as she said clearly.
“I’ll do it. I’ll train Scar and help you win the competition.”
Chapter Eight
Agnes waited with bated breath, hoping that Silas would agree to her offer. Most of her motivations stemmed from her love for horses and a sudden desire to see the magnificent beast she had now taken to be crowned as the victor of the competition. She also secretly hoped that if she was able to ensure their success, Silas might feel indebted to her, guaranteeing that he would keep his word and reunite her with her sisters.
Silas, on the other hand, had reached his limit. This woman seemed to either have no comprehension of refusal, or she just held no regard for him whatsoever, and that spurred her to say whatever she wished, ignorant of his stances on things. And that irritated Silas to no end, as he had never met anyone as infuriating as they disobeyed him.
“Get out. I am done speaking to you.” he snapped, rising from behind his desk.
“No,” she refused, standing up as well and folding her arms in a defiant stance.
Silas grabbed her and dragged her to the door, speaking angrily.
“I am sick of you. I say one thing, and you make it your duty to go against it. I am in no mood for your incessant disregard for my orders. Now, get out of my study!”
Agnes pulled her wrist out of his grip and stood before him with her back facing the door, staring right at him with that stubborn gaze of hers that infuriated him to no end.
“Are you deaf? I said –”
Suddenly, she surged forward, bracing her hands against his shoulders, and pressed her mouth to his lips. Silas felt the fight melt out of him immediately as confusion took over, though not for long because his body was quick to respond. An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against him as he backed her against the door, deepening the kiss.
He had tried very hard to forget what had happened the previous day in the rain, but his mind seemed quite reluctant to relinquish the thoughts of her lips, and he did not expect to feel them again on his so soon. This kiss was much different from the first, given that there was so much to focus on this time.
His hands found a home on her hips, holding her close as his lips worked over hers, with her scent penetrating his senses andrendering him dizzy. She felt so soft beneath his touch, and her height made it easy to just angle his head a certain way in order to nudge her lips to part, giving him a chance to slip his tongue between hers and taste her.
She sighed into his mouth, her hands coming up to clutch at his shirt, shivering as one of his hands came up to lightly grip her chin, keeping her lips connected to his while the other left her hip to explore her body, slipping down her back and gripping at her behind.
Agnes moaned, and it only spurred him on, filling him with white-hot desire and desperation to feel her skin directly on his. He pressed her to the door and continued to ravish her with his tongue, nipping down from her lips to her neck, drawing out deep pants and breathy sighs while his hands roamed around her body, gently kneading and gripping at her round and full bosom.
Silas wanted more, a craving that was close to desperation. He wished to unearth the secrets hiding inside her soft, yielding flesh, to hear her voice as she moaned and cried out his name. He felt powerless in his yearning, pressing impossibly closer to her, grinding the length of his arousal against her hips, wanting her to know how much trouble she was, how she was infuriatingly reducing him to nothing more than a hungry animal.
His lips returned to hers, and he wasted no time licking into the hot, wet heat of her mouth, his tongue coaxing hers into a heated dance. Agnes could not fathom a single thought thatwasn’t about his lips or the weight of his hands. He was quickly reducing her into an incoherent mess, and she found herself desiring more, as much as he could give.