The Nanny of House Herzen - Chapter 17
The man had no need to be curious about her. It was best if he took what he wanted and then forgot about her.
A soft sigh scattered to her ears.
In the next moment, he firmly grasped Evelyn’s white ankles and lifted them high. Once again, his solid p–is pierced her deeply.
“Ah!”
The blunt head hit her sensitive spot instantly, delivering an intense pleasure that seemed to erase even her momentary gloom.
“Ah…”
As Evelyn involuntarily twisted her hips, he chuckled softly.
“Your body is honest, it doesn’t know how to lie.”
Fortunately, Evelyn’s flushed face couldn’t blush any further.
The persistent thrusting began again. With each squelching contact of flesh, her tender body shuddered and moaned.
“Ah! Oh! Master…”
His dark eyes gazed down tenderly and corrected her softly.
“…Carius.”
“Ah, Carius…”
Tears welled up in the corners of Evelyn’s eyes as she repeated his name in a trance. His lips met hers lightly, pleased.
Evelyn clung to his warm flesh, wrapping her tongue around it as if it were her only salvation. The image of the eagle’s yellow eyes flickered in her mind, growing dim.
His hand swept over her white body, sticky with leaking milk, but he caressed her as if she was beautiful.
The night was long.
* * *
“Uweh, uweeh!”
Evelyn woke up suddenly to the sound of a baby crying.
After being tormented by the Duke all night, she had pleaded to return to the nursery as dawn lightened the sky. She used the excuse that she needed time to wash up before morning feeding. When he moved to call a servant to prepare the bath, she panicked.
After barely cleaning herself, dawn had already broken. Evelyn had sat up to nap, fearing she wouldn’t wake up in time.
“Eh! Eh!”
Johanson cried loudly. Evelyn’s legs trembled as she rose.
Still, she hurriedly untied her gown and nursed the crying baby. Even the baby’s soft tongue on her skin felt prickly.
Someone else had drained her so thoroughly that her usually abundant milk was noticeably lessened by morning.
Johanson seemed frustrated by the scant milk, eventually spitting out the n–ple and bursting into tears.
If Johanson knew that it was her father who had drained the milk meant for her, she would surely be shocked. Evelyn quickly switched to the other b****t while blushing to herself.
Indeed, father and daughter bore no striking resemblance to each other.
Carius had no striking colors on his face, whereas Johanson had green eyes and golden hair. Compared to Carius’s sharply defined nose, Johanson’s was soft and rounded.
It could just be because she was still a baby, but Johanson likely took after her mother much more.
The memory of those large hands that had caressed her hair the night before surfaced.
Did the Duke think of the baby’s mother because of Evelyn’s blonde hair? If that’s why he sometimes looked tender, it made some sense.
If he was so wounded by his wife’s death that he couldn’t even bear to look at his child, he must have loved her deeply. He probably missed his wife, who he could no longer see.
Evelyn tried to nurse Johanson on each side twice as she kept fussing.
The baby didn’t seem as full as usual afterward, but perhaps that was for the best. The housekeeper had suggested starting to introduce some baby food.
Although not officially employed as a nanny, Evelyn cared deeply for Johanson—likely more than a typical nanny would.
Before lunchtime, with the help of the head maid and the cook, Evelyn prepared Johanson’s first baby food.
She made it with care, but Johanson seemed to dislike the hard spoon. She barely ate, and she spent the day coaxing the baby to try a bit more, making the time pass quickly.
In the evening, as she put Johanson to bed, she fell asleep with her. It was natural since she had hardly slept the night before.
She had feared becoming another one of the rumors, a lifeless body after a night with the Duke, but the mansion remained peaceful.
* * *
Days went by—two, three…
Yet Evelyn was still alive. She lived on, preparing meals, feeding Johanson, bathing in the evenings, and sleeping.
The Duke was as silent as ever, making it hard to even sense if he was around.
When Evelyn doubted if the night with him had been a dream, she would open her robe and look at her chest. There, distinct like blossoming heat, were red marks left not by the baby.
Whenever she saw those marks, an uncontrollable wetness stirred within her. No matter how much she tried to think of the eagle in the distant room, it was futile.
It was on the fourth day after their night together, after putting Johanson to bed, that she sat down in the bath.
Her body relaxed from fatigue, and as she looked at the red blooms scattered across her chest, thoughts of him surfaced again. Simultaneously, a tingling sensation made her milk flow.
Evelyn watched the milky white droplets fall into the bath, then timidly touched her fingertip to it before bringing it to her lips, sneaking like a thief even though no one was watching.
The milk that the Duke had sucked so eagerly tasted slightly briny and otherwise nothing special. As she thought of the man who had clung to her b*****s making sucking sounds and gazing up at her, the secret path within her tingled.
At that time, the door slid open. Carius entered without knocking with an expression as calm as ever.
