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“And Cecelia won’t ‘happen by’ and discover us.”
“No?”
“She never would.”
With one impulse, they stepped into each other’s arms and came together in a searing kiss. The balmy afternoon suddenly felt even warmer, heady with green scents and the burr of crickets. Kenver’s hands moved urgently over Sarah’s body. She arched up against him, eager for more. They kissed, paused, kissed again. She grew dizzy with desire.
“If only I had one of those blankets,” Kenver panted.
They could fall onto it amongst the ivy. “Like maenads,” she breathed.
“What?”
“The worshippers of Dionysus. They wore wreaths of ivy and held orgies in the forest.”
Kenver gazed down at her. “Not quite orgies. They were known for tearing animals to pieces with their bare hands.”
“Animals?” Sarah blinked. “Bare?”
“Maenad translates as ‘raving ones,’” he added.
“It does?” Sarah shook her head. “I never managed to learn Greek.” She sighed with regret. “I did so like the idea of woodland orgies.”
He looked around. “Would you call that clump of trees a woodland?”
Sarah examined the ivy-draped straggle of saplings, looked at Kenver, looked back at the trees. “I hadn’t really considered… Rocks. And insects.”
He snorted a laugh.
And Sarah heard her name called from the other side of the house. She sighed more deeply. “That’s Cecelia.”
“It is,” Kenver acknowledged.
“Time to go.”
He nodded.
Sarah reached up to straighten her bonnet. “I suppose they will know what we were doing.”
“I suppose I don’t care,” he replied.
The call came again, though no one appeared to search for them. They turned and went.
In the end, no decision was made about Merlin, except that Sarah noticed Cecelia left the extra food when the hamper and blankets were gathered up. The duke saw it too, she was certain, but though he looked sardonic, he made no remark.
Kenver asked Sarah’s question as the carriage pulled away. “What are you going to do about that fellow?”
“Do you know of a lunatic asylum nearby?” responded the duke.
“James,” said Cecelia.
“Joking, my dear.”
“He didn’t seem deranged exactly,” Sarah said.
“The hollow hills?” murmured the duke.
“Oh.” She sighed. “I wish it was true.”
