AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But as much as she yearned for him, she knew that coming here alone had been the right choice. Living under threat for so long, she’d existed in a constant state of alarm, her nerves taut, her body rigid. In the sheltering cocoon of Winston Hollow, where every activity was directed by her, where no one but herself made any demands on her, where she did not have to prepare herself each night for the next day’s battles, the tenseness in her body had seeped away along with the sense of dread, leaving her feeling lighter and more relaxed than she’d been in years.
She was, in short, ready to embrace a new life. But no such life would be complete without Alastair.
While he had agreed to give her time and space, he’d also said he would call. She’d expected, once she was established in her new home, he would find some pretext to stop by. Every time there was a clatter of gravel on the drive, or the sound of voices in the entryway, her spirits leapt, expecting him.
But though Mrs Ransleigh had come twice for tea, Alastair had not appeared. Not that she could fault him—she’d been the one to bring their relationship to a halt. Necessary as that had been initially, she was finding that each day, she missed him more.
His counsel. His ready smile. The delight of discussing poetry or painting or the events reported in the London newspapers with a man of wisdom and discernment. And always, his touch.
Not wishing to press her, was he waiting for an invitation to visit?
Perhaps it was finally time to send one.
Almost upon the thought, Clarkson, her new butler, appeared in the doorway. ‘Madame, you have a visitor. I put him in the morning room.’
Excitement blew through her like a fresh breeze. Since she had no other male acquaintances in the county, it must be Alastair.
‘Mr Ransleigh?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Yes, ma’am. He’s just back from London, he said.’
Perhaps that was why he’d not called earlier. Gladness filling her, she smoothed her skirts, tucked in a curl that had escaped her careless coiffure, and hurried into the morning room.
He stood as she entered, looking so handsome and irresistible her breath caught in her throat. ‘Alastair, what a pleasant surprise!’ she said when she could speak again. ‘Can you stay for tea?’
‘If you are sure I’m not interrupting. I found something for you in London; I debated just sending it over, but since I was riding by anyway, I thought I’d chance delivering it myself. I hope you don’t mind.’
‘No, I’m delighted! Please, do sit!’ Motioning him back to the sofa, she gave instructions to Clarkson, then came to take a seat beside him.
He studied her, a smile slowly lighting his face. ‘I think you are delighted. I’m so pleased. Running Winston Hollow was what you needed, then.’
She nodded. ‘I can’t thank you enough for suggesting it! I’m finding I love being mistress of my own household, with all the small routines of daily life—consulting with the cook and the housekeeper, painting in the morning, lessons with James in the afternoon, taking him and the puppy your mama insisted he bring with him for walks around the property. He’s such a delightful companion, eager to explore, excited by every new discovery. I love him better each day—as you assured me I would. I can never thank you enough for making it possible for me to keep him.’
‘Your pleasure—and his—is reward enough. You do look lovely—and you sound happy. Have you found at last the peace you sought?’
‘I think so. Just recently, I’ve dared to unlock the memories I suppressed of those happy times before my marriage—wonderful memories of that spring we fell in love. I’ve even been able to let go some of the misery of the years after, without the flood of anguish I feared. Instead, there’s been this slow...trickling away of the fear and bitterness and anger that held me as much a prisoner as the walls of Graveston Court once did. I go for days now without thinking about it.’
She laughed. ‘Now, this will surprise you! I believe in time, I may even be able to forgive Graveston.’
‘Then your healing will be complete.’ He leaned towards her and she sucked in a breath, supremely conscious of his nearness, every nerve anticipating his touch.
Running a fingertip gently down her cheek, leaving sparks of sensation in its wake, he declaimed. ‘“Her merest smile to me is a delight. Her brow uplifted, finally free of pain. Her joy like the uprush of a lark to flight. My joy to win her back to life again.”’
Without question, he’d written that for her—about her. Humbled, she said, ‘So you’ve taken up your pen again?’
‘Yes, I have. It seems my muse is back. Though she is still often maddeningly elusive. But here, let me show you what I’ve brought.’ Producing a wrapped package, he handed it to her.
She peeled off the paper to reveal a small leather volume. ‘Pride and Prejudice,’ she read the title on the spine.
‘My sister Lissa recommended it. The author has a unique voice and a sense of humour I think you’ll enjoy.’
Flipping open the book to the first page, she read aloud, ‘“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”’ Chuckling, she said, ‘Yes, I think I shall like it. Thank you so much.’
‘So you can enjoy a gift now—with no fear, no sense of threat?’
‘Less every day. As you promised.’
‘It’s gratifying to be proven right,’ he acknowledged with a grin. ‘You’re beginning to trust that the future will be full of possibilities? That you can learn to love again?’
Did he mean her son—or him?
She knew which love she needed to affirm.
‘There may be nothing as sweet as one’s first falling in love,’ she said softly, her heart accelerating as he fixed his gaze on her, ‘except, perhaps, recapturing a love once lost.’
She watched as the intensity of his regard turned to something else. Something impossible to resist.
She angled her head up, inviting his lips. He gave her just a gentle brush with his mouth, but at the first contact, her body seemed to catch fire.
He must have felt it, too, for his kiss deepened. Any possibility of breaking it off shredding to ash and disintegrating, she opened her mouth, and with an inarticulate sound, he sought her tongue with his own.
Only her brain’s insistent warning that at any moment, the butler might return with the tea tray, gave her the strength to break away.
Breathing hard, obviously as reluctant as she was to end the kiss, Alastair let her go.
‘I’ve missed you,’ she explained, blushing a little.
‘“Missed” doesn’t begin to convey the enormity of it,’ he muttered, moving away from her.
She caught his sleeve, pulling him back again, suddenly desperate for more. ‘Another kiss?’
‘You’re sure?’ he asked, studying her. ‘You’ll let yourself enjoy, with no fear, no sense of threat?’
‘With you, yes.’
Tenderness softened the passion in his gaze. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her forehead. ‘No fear, no threat,’ he whispered as he kissed her ear, the slope of her throat, her chin while her senses swam and tiny explosions of delight and pleasure ignited whenever his mouth touched her.
‘No fear, no threat,’ he whispered again before claiming her mouth.
This kiss was long, gentle, and so achingly sweet she could almost weep with the joy of it. Her long-denied body trembled and burned, eager for completion.
With surprising ease, she let go her last reserve, like a ship slipping its moorings to set off fearlessly on uncharted seas, while her unfettered heart rejoiced with love for him.
She must have been demented to have denied them this—denied him, for so long. ‘Please, stay,’ she whispered when at last he broke the kiss.
‘Now?’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘In full daylight? With the butler about to bring tea and your son in the nursery?’
‘Bother the butler and Minnie has charge of James. Oh, how I’ve missed you—and this!’ She traced his mouth with a trembling finger, until he groaned. ‘You will stay, won’t you?’
‘You know I can deny you nothing.’
‘I’m so glad!’ Feeling impossibly wicked, she took his hand and led him from the morning room. Tiptoeing down the hallway to the stairs, scanning around them like a pair of naughty children, they went swiftly hand in hand up to her bedchamber.
It was mad, delicious—and she couldn’t wait to taste him again. And at last, to offer him all of her.
* * *
A long, leisurely time later, Alastair woke from a deep sleep to find himself in a shadowed bedchamber—with a delectably naked Diana beside him. For a moment, he thought muzzily that he must be dreaming.
Then consciousness returned, and with it, the memory of calling on her and being finally—praise Heaven!—invited back into her arms.
