A/N: :comes out from under the covers: Heh...hi... So I really have no excuse for the neglect of this story. I just got into a funk with it. I tend to do that sometimes :pops self on the wrist:...oww...Anyway, I apologize. Nonetheless chapter nine is here finally, and the Earl is back right where he ought to be...filling my mind with all kinds of sinful things. I'm in quite the atmospheric mood for this chapter, so I hope you will join me with your wine (or sparkling grape juice, dependant on age) and languidly take in all that this chapter has in store for you. Your reviews and concerns were lovely and gracious. Thank you ladies. Reviews are always appreciated.

Enter at your own risk...

McFadden-

Chapter Nine

Kathryn retreated to her bedroom to catch her composure. She wasn't sure if three days in the presence of the Earl was the most intelligent of her ideas. ...But she did promise to take care of him. And damn her better judgement, she would, even if he was going to be insufferable. Her only saving grace was the knowledge that he would sleep most of the time. Walking down the hall and into what would be John's room for the next few days, Kathryn saw that Alcock had brought the Earl all the comforts of his own home and set them up here. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief. At least he could preoccupy himself in forms other than her torture which he seemed to enjoy so much.

There were endless amount of ink and quills, scrolls of parchment, and oddly enough what seemed like stage layout for the London Theatre. Was he planning to direct a play there? God she hoped not! That was the last thing she needed. She could just see him cavorting around her backstage area, ordering everyone around with that cocky smirk of his plastered onto his face. Well, she wouldn't let him order her around. If he was commissioned for a play there, that would be the day she quit. In all of her mental arguing, Kathryn failed to hear the faint knock on the door or that robust man casting a shadow in the doorway.

"He's resting now. Is there anything else that I need to do?"

The almost cordial tone of Alcock's voice nearly threw her off-guard, making her answer distractedly.

"No...no, that's all. You're free to leave if you want."

Kathryn idly thumbed the feather of a quill. Alcock moved further into the room and looked at her with all seriousness planted firmly in his eyes.

"If he tries anything rash don't hesitate to lock yourself behind one of these doors. Fevers can make any man irrational, and the Earl is not excluded. John can be cruel in these fits."

An unsettling feeling hit Kathryn in the pit of her stomach. His concern was far too great for it not to be real. She wondered for a moment how often something like this had happened but quickly pushed it away and nodded at him.

"Thank you Alcock, I'll be sure to keep note of that. But for now I'm getting tired, so if you don't mind I think I'll retire for the night. Move John in here if you think he'd be more comfortable. You are welcomed to stay as long as you wish."

Kathryn nearly bit the inside of her cheek. What the hell possessed her to be so nice to men, both of them, who had days before tried their best to run their hand under her skirts? She'll never know why she was condemned to be so consenting to people no matter how good or bad they were. Relief rolled over her when he silently declined and left her alone to show himself out. Kathryn walked unstably back to her room, the activities of the day finally catching up with her. As soon as she got close enough to the bed, she just collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh. The soft, pliable sheets weren't made of silk, but they were more than what she could ask for. Her mind went briefly to John. Surely he had the comfort of the finest fabrics in his home. She'd never slept on silk, she just worked with it at the theater. The thought of having that smooth satiny feeling engulfed around her made her skin prickle. A thought of going to check on the Earl passed by without much credence. Kathryn was simply too tired to move. Besides, from the lack of commotion, she figured Alcock decided to leave the Earl where he was and she wasn't about to complain that he was just a few more feet away from her. She just laid there staring at a crystal perfume bottle on her vanity seeing her distorted image in the mirror on the other side as she looked through it. Not soon after, she was fast asleep.

It was well past midnight when a nightmare stirred John from his fitful sleep. He looked around, feeling strangely aware of his surroundings. So, she decided to let him stay... Perhaps more to his relief, he also couldn't see any sign of that petulant servant of his. The images of earlier floated back into his memory, making him cringe. He never, ever wanted to have a pseudo sponge bath from that bovine sloth again. As he turned to his side, his head sent a painful reminder as to what he was doing here in the first place. The most he could remember was that horrific display of treachery he witnessed in the center of town. Somehow in his livid rage he made it back to the theater to wait for them to return. To keep himself company, he drank, heavily. Before everything went fuzzy he remember swearing at the top of his lungs and ripping a garment that Kathryn had been working on to shreds. Shit...that was going to cause problems. He had to tell her before she found out and got fired for what he did. He didn't want that. Of course, even now, he was oblivious to the hour, or the fact that anyone normal, would be asleep.

Gingerly moving and getting to his feet, John waited till his eyes adjusted before heading down the long hall where he saw her disappear. Unsure of which room was hers, he opened up each door he came upon. He found an a small attic of sort behind one, a washroom behind another. Opening up a third door, the Earl discovered a room full of things he recognized to be his. Kathryn definitely wasn't in there. He only had one room left and assumed that it was her bedchambers. Taking care to be extra quiet he pushed on the door and it gave a slight creak as it opened.

It wasn't the noise of the worn wood giving way beneath every footstep, nor the slight breeze tangling through the curtain and into the room that woke Kathryn up. No, it was the pressure of someone else's body crawling up next to her from the foot of the bed. She didn't dare open her eyes, she didn't have to. The sandalwood smell that was lingering on his skin told her exactly who it was. She just lay there, still as a corpse. Thinking that maybe, if she didn't move, he would just leave her alone. That didn't seem to be the case when she felt his calloused fingertips run their course shyly across her cheek and down her lips, hovering there for a while to feel the timid breath coming from her mouth.

"I know you're awake. Your skin is too flushed for a person in slumber."

Kathryn reluctantly opened one eye to see an Earl she was entirely not used to. His shirt was opened and hanging loosely by its ties. The ornately long wig that normally adorned his head had been removed to reveal shorter hair underneath that suited him more handsomely. Even in its rumpled state. Bypassing all of this newfound visualizations, Kathryn was still quite confused at his presence. Her voice was stuck in her throat from it's dormancy.

"How do you know that?"

John smiled at the sound of it. He leaned in closer, not raising his own above a mere whisper. With each word, he drew an explanation by barely touching her with his fingers.

"The skin pales with sleep. The blood is drawn away from the center during rest, robbing the flesh of warmth. But I noticed you blush when I started to speak. Thus leading me to believe that you were already awake. Your body was telling on you Either way, pale or rosy, each one of its guises is quite beautiful on you."

Poetically put or not, she caught the playful tone in his words quickly. It took everything not to raise her brow in contempt. Kathryn was not entirely clear as to why she was allowing this behavior from him, and conceded by blaming it on a sleepy mind. His dark eyes roved over her as she laid there in little more than a night-shift. The strands of his hair, although shorter than that of his wig, were long enough to tickle the bridge of his nose. Her clouded mind seemed to lift as he stared her down and she remembered now that he wasn't well. Sitting up slightly and pulling the covers with her, she spoke seriously to him.

"John, you should be in bed."

He considered her silently for a while and then looked down where he lay.

"I do believe I am Kathryn."

It shook her to hear him say her name in that raspy tone of his. It was too much for her to pretend that she was comfortable anymore. John noticed and smiled even more, bending to her ear as she turned to look away.

"Oh how the body does betray..."

She felt as he took her hand and placed it boldly on his naked chest. Immediately Kathryn felt the coolness of his skin and she began to draw her hand back until the Earl prevented it from moving by holding it firmly to its spot. Both of their hands moving up and down with the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.

"See...I'm not sick anymore."

It was true that he had gotten significantly better after his fever broke, but he should've been too weak to initiate this behavior. John bent lower until his lips brushed up against hers with every muttering word.

"All I need now, is for you to make me feel better."

Kathryn shuttered before he finally overtook her with a deep and unforgiving kiss. The kiss wasn't something that came from a weak man, in fact, it held more strength within it than she had felt before. She didn't know that his dominant nature could come through in an action like that. But she was wrong. He anchored her down to the bed as crawled to be on top of her, his hands pressing possessively into her skin. Kathryn felt like she was the one with fire coursing through her veins. Tasting the salt of his skin, the scent of musk at the hollow of his throat. She had never been kissed like that. Billy certainly didn't become possessed like that. He was more considerate and submissive with his kisses. Almost too proper and formal, like he was afraid to get too involved. Not with the Earl! He held nothing back and was obviously demanding nothing less than that from her judging by the way he just bit down on her lip. So hard on fact, that she tasted the blood swirling in her mouth. Feeling a deep moan from him, she hesitantly pulled away.

"John. Stop."

Breathing heavily, she looked at him. He stared her down while licking the remnants of blood from his lips. She stammered all over her words when she spoke

" I can't...I mean, I fancy Bil..."

He cut her sentence violently short.

"Don't."

She watched as his eyes darkened severely with the prospective mention of Billy's name.

"Don't you say his name..."

He was lurking closely to her body, prowling it with his hands. Leaning down, John bit her shoulder, marking her. Kathryn grew increasingly anxious when he met her eyes again.

"You can fancy him all you want, but you are mine. Do you understand me."

It was a rhetorical question, she understood that, but nobody owned her. Least of all, him.

"I belong to no one Mr. Wilmot."

The formality of his name angered him more, but they were too far gone in the situation by that point for it to make much difference. If there was anything he had came to learn in the past, it was that hatred made an equally tempered lust and that they both possessed it for each other. His hand traveled up the hem of her dressing gown to the inside of her thighs, making her breath catch in her throat. He just shook his head at her, chiding her inability to hide her want for him anymore. In spite of that, John still refused to touch her where she wanted. He intended to prolong the torture of foreplay as much as he could. Retreating down a little, the Earl used his teeth to untie the lacing of her gauzy shift, exposing the tops of her breasts to him. Making sure to establish eye contact first, John then blew lightly on her skin, causing a shaky sigh to escape Kathryn's mouth. He muttered darkly to he against her cloth covered torso.

"You don't love Billy."

Again, he wasn't asking her a question, he was telling her. All he got in response was a light moan and the sudden presence of her hands threading through his hair. He untied the strings further, exposing her stomach. Placing tiny kisses all across it, he whispered again.

"Tell me..."

Pushing the fabric up, he synched her legs securely around his waist. Kathryn couldn't take his teasing any longer. She had to have him! Even if that meant giving up her morals and any knowledge that she would almost certainly regret doing it later, she caved in.

"He means nothing to me."

With one final kiss on her navel, he murmured.

"Good girl..."

In a flash of white hot light, he pushed into her and she bit back a scream. It wasn't till long before they both resulted into moaning and screaming. If they hadn't been so blinded by the rawness of sex, perhaps they would have noticed the shadow that passed by the window and lingered there, hidden.