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‘Because I thought you were probably in some danger and I worry about my friends.’ She came further into the room, trying to read his face.
‘Is that what I am, Circe? A friend?’ He tossed down the handful of shells, and the
crumpled cravat with its traces of blood fell on the floor.
Hebe kept her voice as steady as she could. ‘I do not know what you are to me, Alex. You are a mystery. And sometimes I am afraid of you.’
That brought him round sharply, a look of distress on his face. ‘I make you afraid? Hebe, I am sorry, I would never hurt you! You mean this evening, at the ball? I did not intend to frighten you.’
‘No,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘Not that. When you have that fierce look, when you are like this and I do not know what you want.’
‘Only to see you, only to talk to you.’ He held up his hands in the fencer’s gesture of surrender and relaxed a little as she smiled at him. ‘Why did I not frighten you when we were dancing? You knew what was the matter, why I was angry. You know what I wanted, don’t you?’
‘Yes, you told me,’ Hebe said, still managing to keep her voice steady. She wanted to go to him, hold him, wipe the trickle of blood from his cheek and that dark, tortured look out of his eyes. ‘If you hadn’t, I might not have guessed. I am not very experienced with men, you know.’
‘You do not have to tell me that! Why do you think I was so angry with myself?’
‘And with me.’
‘I deserve that reminder.’ He stood, looking down at the evidence of her undressing that night: the pearl earrings and necklace discarded on the dressing table, a scatter of orange blossom on the boards, one silk stocking that Maria had dropped on her way out. He stooped and picked it up, letting it hang from his fingers. ‘If you weren’t so sheltered, so innocent.’
‘I might be sheltered and inexperienced,’ Hebe observed tartly, ‘but I am hardly innocent. I understand exactly what the matter is: my inexperience means that I do not know what to do about it.’
That made him laugh, a sudden gasp of amusement. ‘I wish I could show you.’
‘So do I.’ It was out before she realised she was going to say it. Her hands flew to her mouth and her grey eyes stared at him aghast over the shield of her fingers.
‘Hebe!’ He sounded every bit as shocked as she would expect Sir Richard to be if he had heard her scandalous declaration.
‘Oh!’ Hebe buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. She was so tired, so confused and now she had shown herself up as wanton and shameless.
The next thing she knew, she was gathered firmly into Alex’s arms, her wet cheek pressed against his shirt front. One arm held her tightly, his free hand stroked the nape of her neck with a comforting pressure. ‘There, there, poor Circe. Cry all you want.’
But the tears seemed to go as rapidly as they had appeared. Hebe made no move to free herself. The pressure of Alex’s arms felt wonderful, strong, reassuring, not at all threatening or confusing. He smelt of the cologne she remembered, and of himself with an overtone of brandy, which prickled her nostrils. Hebe snuggled her cheek against the warm linen and listened to his heart while his hand gentled her nape.
She was vaguely aware of his fingers moving upwards into her hair, then there was the sound of falling pins and her hair tumbled free out of its knot.
‘Aah!’ He sighed and she felt both hands lift to run through the rippling mass. ‘I had imagined what your hair would look like down.’
Hebe looked up at him through wet lashes. ‘Mama says I should have it cropped. It is very unfashionable.’
‘Never, never do that, Circe. Promise me?’
‘I promise,’ she said softly and the words seemed to echo in the room. The promise about such a trivial thing was charged with meaning.
Alex stooped and kissed her, gently as he had in the garden, then, as her lips parted under his, with fierce intensity.
It seemed to Hebe that she stopped breathing. The touch of his mouth had excited her before, but now the invasion of his tongue between her parted lips ignited feelings she had only glimpsed in her dreams of him. Instinctively her tongue flickered out to touch his and he groaned deep in his throat, his hands locked in the heavy mass of her hair. Alarmed at his reaction, and shaken by the intense feeling that intimate contact aroused in her, she closed her lips, then hesitantly yielded to the demands of his mouth.
Hebe found her hands were flattened against Alex’s chest and began to tug aside his shirt, careless of flying buttons, until she could spread her fingers on the heated skin beneath. The light tangle of hairs against her palms was intriguing, she let her fingers roam further as he showed no sign of freeing her mouth. Then her fingertips found his nipples and froze in surprise as they hardened to her touch.
He freed her mouth and raised his head. For a long moment they stared into each other’s eyes, both of them breathing hard. Alex opened his hands and freed her, then tried to step back.
‘Let go, Hebe.’
‘What, I’m not… Oh!’ She found her hands were clenched tight on either side of his shirt front. With an effort of will she opened her fingers, releasing the creased linen.
‘Hebe darling, I must go—stop looking at me like that with those great grey eyes.’
