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“Are you sure?” His whisper was anguished.
She nodded mutely. She didn’t trust herself to speak again. The need was overpowering.
She felt him fumble with the buttons on his britches. His soft groan as his painfully erect manhood was released. She reached around, grabbing it, feeling it hot and twitching in her hand. Slowly, she stroked it. He gave a strangled gasp. She felt a drop of wetness on the very tip and gloried in the sensation.
He was gathering her gown up, moving towards her. Her heart leapt with joy and desire. It was going to happen. She wanted him so badly it was like a fever. She pushed back against him to tell him so without words. She heard him give another strangled gasp….
But then they both jumped in alarm. There were footsteps approaching. Hastily, he pulled down her gown, buttoning himself. Delia smoothed down the dress and her hair. Her heart was pounding so hard. Desire was still flooding through her bloodstream so strongly that she was shaking.
He pulled her down so that they were crouching together in the stable behind the gate, putting a finger to his mouth to indicate they must be silent. The footsteps grew louder, so close that she was sure that the person on the other side was going to push at the gate and would discover them within.
Her heart was in her mouth, and she could barely breathe. She stared at Ambrose with wide eyes. The footsteps stopped. Then they heard a low voice whispering to a horse.
“You’re a fine beauty, aren’t you?” said the voice.
Delia suppressed a giggle. It was the voice of Sister Mary Majella. Was the good sister searching for her, trying to save her from an encounter with Ambrose? It seemed likely. Perhaps she had knocked on the door of her room and opened it to find her missing and had noticed that Ambrose was missing as well.
Ambrose noticed her convulsing with giggles and put a firm hand over her mouth to stop them from escaping. But she noticed that his mouth was twitching, too, with the effort to not make a sound and betray themselves. It seemed an eternity before the nun decided to stop praising the horse, and they heard the sound of her receding footsteps.
Delia collapsed against Ambrose in frothy laughter. A grin split his face, and suddenly, he joined her in it. It felt so good to release it. She almost felt on the verge of hysteria, as if she might never rein it in. But eventually, she wiped the tears of mirth from her eyes, gazing at him.
He reached out, tenderly stroking the side of her face. His dark eyes were warm. “It is wonderful to hear your laughter, Delia,” he whispered. “Or should I call you Cordelia now?”
“My name is Delia,” she whispered, suddenly shy. “I have been called Delia since I was a child. Whenever anyone calls me Cordelia, I feel as if they are scolding me because that is what my father does when he is angry with me.”
It felt liberating to talk freely about her life and her past—that she didn’t have to think twice about what she said to him. She hadn’t realised how constraining it was to constantly second-guess everything that came out of her mouth. It felt good to tell the truth.
“I wouldn’t want you to think I am scolding you,” he whispered. “I never want to scold you again.” He hesitated. “I am so very sorry about the way I treated you last night.”
She tried to shrug nonchalantly, but her heart sang to hear him apologise again and see from his face how contrite he was. She believed him.
They kept gazing at each other. Delia felt bashful again. They had been on the cusp of consummating their passion when they had been interrupted. If Sister Mary Majella hadn’t entered the stable, she would no longer be a maiden now. The thought was astonishing.
She took a deep breath. But she didn’t regret that wild passion. Not one minute of it.
Ambrose exhaled slowly. “Even though I am aching from it, I think it was probably a good thing we were interrupted,” he said in a quiet voice. “I think you deserve better for your first time than pressed against a stable wall.”
Her face coloured. “I wanted it as much as you did.”
“I know,” he said, his voice thickening with desire again. “But you are special, Delia. So very special. And I want to treat you as you deserve to be treated.”
She had no reply to that. She didn’t know quite what he was saying to her. She longed to confess her love to him. The words were burning on her tongue. But even though he was aching with desire for her, and willing to keep her secret and protect her from exposure, she still didn’t know if he felt the same way about her as she felt about him.
“We should return to the inn,” he said, looking regretful. “If Sister Mary Majella is looking for us, then other people may have noticed we are missing, as well.” He stood up, holding out a hand to her. “The most important thing at the moment is making sure you stay hidden. Baldwin must not see you or speak to you. Do you understand?”
She took his hand, standing as well. “I understand. I will stay in my room and say that I am still feeling poorly. I will not come downstairs at all.”
He nodded, looking relieved. “Good. Hopefully, it will not be for much longer. Then all of this can finally be over, and we will reach Bradford.”
She nodded, feeling uncertain. She knew that once they started on the journey again, it wouldn’t be much further to their final destination. And while it would be a relief, she couldn’t help feeling a pang of sorrow as well. For it meant that they must part.
Her eyes filled with tears at the thought. A small part of her wished they hadn’t been interrupted because it would mean that she had experienced being with him fully. Even the spectre of bearing an illegitimate child because of it wasn’t enough to shake her sorrow. For it was probably the last opportunity she would ever have to join with him completely in passion and love.
She took a deep breath, trying to resolve herself to it. She knew he was right. They must return to the inn. She mustn’t let this Jack Baldwin see her.
“I am worried about you,” he whispered, frowning slightly. “You have my word that I will never expose your true identity, Delia, but how are you going to survive in Bradford? It is a tough place. You are so innocent….”
“Let me worry about that,” she said, feeling a pang of pain in her heart. “You are doing enough for me, Ambrose. I have chosen this path, and I must learn to navigate it myself. Even if it is rocky.”
