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Faster and faster she moved, each stroke tightening the coil of pressure until at last, in a splendid blaze of pleasure, they flew over the crest together.
For a while afterwards, they both drifted in somnolent contentment. When at last she rose back to full consciousness, she found herself beside him, his arm wrapped around her, her head pillowed on his shoulder.
A wave of wonder and delight washed through her. How many times had she dreamed of waking like this?
And this time, she had no need to thrust away or bottle up the thought.
Instead, she nestled closer. ‘Must I go now?’
‘Go?’ he echoed. ‘Heavens, no, my sweet. We’ve just begun.’
Her eyes widened at that. ‘Just begun?’ she repeated cautiously.
Laughing, Alastair rolled out of the bed, swiftly stripped off his clothes, walked over to pour them a glass of wine and brought it back, while she admired his magnificent nakedness.
‘Here, drink up. We’ve hours yet.’
After taking a long sip, she let herself smile. ‘That’s excellent.’
He chuckled and took back the glass. ‘Let me show you how excellent,’ he murmured. Smoothing his hands down over her belly, he nudged her legs apart and moved his clever, wicked mouth to that needy place between her thighs.
* * *
Slowly Diana emerged from the heavy mantle of sleep, like a sea creature rising from the deep. Her body felt languid, replete with a humming satisfaction. When she finally forced her eyelids open, she saw a dearly beloved visage, smiling at her.
What marvellous dream was this? A sense of wonder escaping before she could cage it, she raised a hand to trace the face from forehead to lips. ‘Alastair?’ she whispered.
As if his name had evoked it, consciousness returned in a rush, accompanied by a paralysing stab of fear. ‘Alastair! You must—I must get away. At once! He mustn’t find us!’
As she frantically pulled at the bedclothes, desperate to flee, he stilled her hands. ‘Stop, Diana! It’s all right. Your husband is dead. He’ll never hurt you again.’
The room seemed to swirl around her dizzily. ‘He’s...gone?’ she repeated, trying to focus her muzzy senses.
‘Yes. He’s gone, and I’m here.’
She struggled to pull herself free from the iron grip of another world. After a moment of frantic concentration, reality began to fall into place. Graveston’s death. Coming to Bath. Meeting Alastair again. The bargain.
The luxuriant somnolence of her body clashed with the agitation of emotions still out of control. Responding to the imperative to reel them in, she pushed at the arm he’d wrapped around her.
‘Please, I need...I need to sit.’ Detaching herself, she slid away and off the bed, looking around wildly for the dressing table. Spying it in the corner, she hurried over, and heedless of her nakedness and his keen observing eyes, seated herself before the glass. The forehead of the face reflected back to her was creased with anxiety, the eyes feral.
With a trembling hand, she smoothed away the lines and began the ritual breathing. Long slow inhale, hold, hold, exhale. Applying every bit of mind and will, she forced back the anxiety and buried the panic, until finally the countenance staring back at her was expressionless and calm.
Only then did she turn to Alastair. He was still looking at her with concern—no wonder, after witnessing that performance! Better distract him quickly, before he could begin questioning.
‘I’m so sorry!’ She managed a smile. ‘I can’t recall when I last slept so deeply, I awoke with no idea where I was.’
Though his eyes still looked troubled, mercifully, he did not press her. ‘Passion satisfied can do that.’
She smiled in earnest. ‘What a wondrous gift! I had no idea such feelings existed. Thank you.’
‘I should point out, the gift was mutual. Thank you, too.’
Suddenly she noticed that, though the candles had guttered out, a dim light illuminated the chamber. Her relief at recalling that Graveston was gone and she was in Bath abruptly dissipated.
‘Goodness, what hour is it?’
‘Just past dawn.’
Shocked that she’d slept so long, Diana hopped off the bench and began gathering up her garments. ‘I must get back at once, before the servants begin to stir.’
‘I’ll summon you a chair.’
‘No, I’ll walk—it’s light enough now, someone might notice the chair.’
‘I appreciate your efforts at discretion, but it’s not yet full daylight and you shouldn’t be out on the streets alone,’ he countered. ‘I’ll escort you.’
‘What kind of discretion would that be? No, you mustn’t be seen by anyone in the house. The servants can’t be trusted not to gossip.’
With a sigh, he came over to help her. ‘I’m much better at removing these than putting them back on,’ he said as he fitted the gown over her chemise and began pinning. ‘Why so worried about gossip? I thought you’d brought with you only a few trusted retainers.’
She leaned back against him as he secured the garment. ‘All were hired here but Minnie, James’s nursemaid, and she’s loyal only to him. The servants at Graveston Court obeyed their master and no one else. Not that I blame them. Had any of them shown sympathy or allegiance to me, they would have been turned out at once without a character.’
‘So you truly had no one.’
Deciding, after a moment’s hesitation, to ignore the question, she sat to roll on her stockings and slip her feet into her slippers, then stood and twirled before him. ‘All put to rights, am I?’
‘Sadly, yes. I prefer you in the natural state.’
‘Wouldn’t give one much chance of slipping through the streets unnoticed, you must allow.’ Feeling somehow shyer now in her garments than she had while naked before him in the languid aftermath of loving, she glanced up as she tied on her cloak. ‘Will you...want me again tonight?’
The smouldering look he returned sent a little thrill through her. ‘You know I will.’
‘Then I shall be here.’ Stepping towards the door, she paused to look back over her shoulder. ‘Alastair, I—I really do thank you. Last night was...magnificent.’
A twinkle in his eyes, he walked over to capture her chin and give her a kiss, long and slow and full of promise. ‘Just wait until tonight.’
Warmth bubbled up, and this time, she didn’t try to stop it. ‘Tonight,’ she whispered, parting his lips to delve into his mouth and deliver her promise in return.
* * *
Maintaining her vigilance as she slipped through the empty streets, her only fellow travellers a few returning revellers and the last of the night-soil men rattling off with their carts, Diana arrived home to find the kitchen still dark but for the banked embers in the fireplace.
Grateful not to have to manufacture an excuse for appearing downstairs at so odd an hour, she padded softly up to the privacy of her chamber.
As long as she came and went alone, she didn’t worry too much about any gossip the staff might exchange about her movements. The servants had already been instructed that she planned to go out most evenings and would let herself back in, so except for the maid who assisted her with dressing, they need not wait up for her. Though she supposed that directive might be unusual, the permission to end their long day when they chose, without having their rest depend upon the vagaries of their employer’s social schedule, was attractive enough, none had questioned it.
Once safely within her chamber, Diana seated herself in the chair before her own banked chamber fire. In a moment, she’d strip off the cloak and lie down on her bed, telling the maid when she came later in that she’d been so weary after returning, she hadn’t bothered to ring for her. Now, for the next few moments, she could let down her guard and recall the events of the night.
How wonderful it had been to no longer fight against Alastair’s insidious attraction! How exciting to respond freely to his touch, to let passion sweep her away to a satisfaction more powerful and complete than she’d imagined possible. She’d suspected loving Alastair would be magical, but words couldn’t begin to describe the all-encompassing power and grandeur of it.
The warmth she’d felt earlier bubbled up again, expanding until it filled her with a sense of peace she hadn’t experienced since long ago, in that other life.
Home, safe, content, she slept, to awake later feeling energised. The well-being stayed with her through the morning and well into the afternoon. Until, returning from a walk to the park with James and Minnie, the maid informed her as she entered the house that a solicitor was waiting in the parlour to see her.
Chapter Nine
Dread struck her like a fist to the gut. Surely Blankford couldn’t be moving against her this quickly! She’d expected it to take at least a fortnight for him to pack up and decamp to Graveston Court after the news of his father’s demise reached him, and some time after that for him to trace where she’d fled.
