stretched under the sheet and enjoyed the feel of the linen on her bare body. She felt a frisson of desire and the memories came flooding back. In spite of herself, she smiled.
He had told her not to worry, and then he’d taken off her clothes, and pleasured her until she could bear it no more.
And then he’d put her to bed and taken his leave. She’d dreamed all night of him, lying next to her on the pillow, and it was sweet disappointment to wake and find that he wasn’t there.
There was a quiet knock on the door.
It was still locked, and her maid could not get in. She wrapped the sheet around herself, then hurried to the door in bare feet and turned the key in the lock, grabbed the clothing from off the floor and tossed it over the nearest chair, trying to give the illusion that she had found her own way to bed.
Susan came in smiling, and doing her best to pretend that there was nothing unusual about her mistress’s behaviour. There was an envelope, set beside the morning’s hot chocolate.
Constance looked to her enquiringly.
‘It was delivered this morning, your Grace, with the first post.’
She glanced down at the seal. An S, unfamiliar in its design. She slit the wax and unfolded the note. Her deed and inventory slid on to the tray.
So soon?
Obviously. She felt the last of the tension leaving her body. A short note slid from the envelope as well, and she laid it against her heart before reading.
I am safe as houses, as are you. If you would welcome a visit from one who will always be your humble servant, so that you might have return of your house key, send your maid to bed early and leave your window unlocked.
There was no signature.
She sank back into the pillows, and closed her eyes, holding the note to her lips. He had the key to her front door, and yet he asked her permission to enter. If she had not loved him before now, she would have been unable to resist him, just for that fact. And he still wished to use the window. Which was both discreet, and arousing. And he was coming to her tonight.
Susan gave a quiet cough to remind Constance of her continued presence.
She smiled up at the maid.
Susan smiled back. ‘Have you decided to listen to your heart after all, your Grace?’
‘It beats so loudly when I think of him that I have been unable to do otherwise.’ She allowed the maid to help her into her morning dress. ‘I think, Susan, that there is no hope for me. It is not wise of me to want Mr Smythe. It would be much better could I bring myself to feel this towards Lord Endsted. But my mind will not obey reason. When I think of Tony, the sun shines brighter, the air smells sweeter, and I feel as if I could fly, rather than walk.’
Susan nodded. ‘You are in love.’
Constance looked back at her, sadly. ‘I never meant to be. I never have been, before. And I am not sure, when it ends, that I will like it very much.’
‘It will be worth it,’ Susan assured her. ‘For you will always remember this morning.’
That night, supper was barely cold when she called for Susan to ready her for bed. It was foolish of her, she supposed, for it was far too early to expect a visit. But he had given no indication of the time he would come. And when he did arrive, she did not wish to waste a moment of his company in preparation. Susan had laid out her best night rail, and she allowed it to be put on, only to toss the thing aside as soon as her maid had left the room. Then she crawled naked between the sheets.
It was almost midnight when, at last, he climbed in the window, silhouetted in the light from the street. She leaned on her elbow and watched him, admiring his movements. How strange that he should be able to climb in and out as easily as going through the front door. And how accustomed she’d become to his habits.
‘Good evening.’ She could see his grin in the darkness, when he saw her already in bed. ‘I hope I am not disturbing you.’
‘Not at all.’ She stretched and let the sheet slip down her body so that he could see she was bare beneath the linen.
He caught his breath at the sight. ‘Not disturbed? Give me fifteen minutes and you shall be.’ He slipped off his coat and tossed it over a chair. ‘You received the deed?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
He undid his cravat and tossed it and his shirt after the coat. ‘Did you send your maid away this evening so that we might not be interrupted?’
‘Yes,’ she breathed. He was slim, unlike her husband. His belly was flat and his shoulders broad and she could watch the muscles move under the skin as he undressed.
He sat on the end of the bed and pried off his boots. ‘I hope that she is on the other side of the house.’ He looked over his shoulder at her. ‘You were quite vocal last night. It is most gratifying to get such an enthusiastic response.’
She blushed. ‘It was very…I don’t think I…Thank you.’
He turned to look at her with a fond smile. ‘You’re very welcome.’ He sighed and shook his head in amazement. ‘And very, very beautiful. Especially as you are now, naked in bed, and waiting for me.’ He stood and unfastened his breeches and let them drop to the floor. He was large, and already growing hard. But then, his whole body was well muscled and firm, and she longed to touch every inch of it. He stretched out on the bed beside her, with only the sheet separating their bodies.
He took her in his arms and cradled her against his body, and she felt the hair of his chest rubbing against her breasts and bringing every nerve alive in her.
In response, she kissed him.
There was nothing gentle in his answer as he kissed her back. There was the same intensity that she felt whenever he looked at her, as though he wanted to steal her away and keep her all to himself. His hands were on her back, stroking her and gripping her shoulders and her waist and anything he could reach.
She pushed the sheet down and out of the way so that she could feel even more of him.
And he pulled it back up to her waist, keeping them apart, but gripping her bottom and her legs so that she could feel how hard he was, even through the fabric.
She wrapped her legs around him, tangling in the sheet and rocking, letting the linen rub against them, as he reached to play with her breasts, cupping them with his hands, stroking and pulling at the nipples. And then he caught one of her hands, bringing it to his mouth to suck on the fingers and kiss the knuckles and the palm. At last, he whispered, ‘If you would be so kind.’ Then he led it down his body, over his chest and stomach, until it rested between his legs under the sheet.
She understood what he wanted, for she had often had to help her husband, before he was able to perform. But Anthony was not in obvious need of help. He was long and hard and ready, and he sucked in his breath when her hand touched him, and gritted his teeth in a smile.
She stroked him, running her hand along the smooth flesh and tightening around it, and he trembled next to her. She kissed his lips and bit his throat, and worked her way down
