Mistress at Midnight(40)

Such a change in topic befuddled her. One moment lost in the hazy glow  of sexual innuendo and the next thrown into a social discourse that  could change her future for the better or for the worse.

'Will I meet him?'

'Of course. I am relying on your charms to sway him completely. When he  sees you as my wife he will withdraw the claims Kerslake so definitely  insists upon and give you full pardon.'

'And if these charms do not work?'

'They will, Aurelia. Believe me, they will.'                       
       
           



       

At that he stood, scrunching the linen napkin from his lap and throwing  it down upon the table. 'Eleven o'clock at the stables. Have Mrs Simpson  ask a lad to show you where they are.'

Then he was gone, striding off down the wide corridors of Atherton, the  lord of the manor and the prince of his domain. The room seemed so much  emptier without him in it.

Atherton was as beautiful as she thought it would be, the wide open  spaces of green leading down to small copses of oak and elm and beech.  Medlands had been a large holding, but this ranged as far as the eye  could see as Hawkhurst property.

'When the weather is clearer it is possible to see the ocean from here,'  Hawk said as he pulled his horse to a stop on one of the grassy knolls.  'We used to swim there in the high summer.'

'You and your brother?'

'My father had a boat made for us that resembled a small scow and we  would race up and down the beach, pretending to be pirates.'

'A good childhood, then?'

'Aye, it was that, but not anywhere near long enough.'

Aurelia nodded her head and tipped her face to the sun, enjoying the  warmth and the freedom. 'My mother left of her own accord. A sickness  might have been easier to comprehend and recover from.'

'Mrs Simpson told you of the way they died?'

'I asked her.'

'You would have liked them and they would have liked you.'

The compliment was so unexpected she could not help smiling, her horse  whickering and fidgety as she pulled on the reins. 'Your mama had fine  taste in clothes,' she finally said, indicating the dark blue velvet  riding jacket and skirt that she wore.

'She had fine taste in everything,' he returned, grabbing the horse and ordering it still.

It obeyed instantly, but the jag of awareness that had simmered beneath  this ride suddenly boiled over, the touch of his fingers against hers  laying nonsense to normal rationale, the wind off the embankment lifting  her hair. When his fist closed tighter she looked at him and saw on his  face exactly what must have been on hers.

The grass was long and a small cliff sheltered them from the wind and  from any unexpected prying eyes. Looking around, she had a view all over  the valley. Apart from scattered herds of cattle nothing human moved.

'Here?' Her question was whispered, barely audible.

'Yes.' Only that as he dismounted and tied his horse to a bush beside him. Helping her down, he did the same to hers.

'Come.' He did not take her hand, but waited to see that she followed  and a moment later they arrived at an overhang where the grass was  thicker-a bed amongst the sky, a thin sun struggling through into bands  of warmth.

His hand came out to touch the velvet collar at her neck, high and  tight, before falling down across her breasts and her stomach.

Then her skirt was flicked up, the breeze against her bottom, only a small layer of lawn to stop him.

He brought her before him facing out and came in from behind, the  barrier gone in a single tug and she held her arms backwards, clinging  to his solidness as he entered her without a word, the heavy push of him  making her arch. Here above the world in the cradle of the wind and  with no mind for communion     other than that of the body, Aurelia  accepted what she had known since the moment of meeting Stephen  Hawkhurst on the dusty track of Taylor's Gap.

She had wanted him then and she wanted him now, the dampness of her sex  asking for for ever and as he cried out and shuddered she knew a feeling  that she had never known before: that of a true belonging.

He held her, his arms around her, still linked by flesh and hands, his voice low against her ear.

'Thank you, my love.'

The tone in his words was such that she could believe that she was his  love, not just a wife picked out from jeopardy and married on a whim.  Closing her eyes, she savoured the moment, doubts whipped away by the  pressure of his body, enveloping her, safety in the fervency of his  need.

And then he stepped back, the link between them fallen, his seed  spilling down the insides of her legs as he turned her and took her  mouth, desperate and urgent, teeth against her lips biting down, the  slight pain of sex as tumultuous as the soaring joyous clench of relief,  the shared breath between them allowing only the taste of each other.  Ravaged. She hung on as he calmed and held still, head falling against  the deep blue velvet of his mother's jacket and her hair covering his  face with red.

'It seems I cannot have enough of you.'

'Then it is good that we are married, my lord.'

'You are not upset that we should couple here, outside?'

'In the sun and the wind and above a thousand acres of Atherton land? Nay, it seems more than appropriate.'                       
       
           



       

He laughed, loud and long, the sound in the wind coming back as an echo,  free and jubilant; a Stephen she had not met before, but the one  Lillian had spoken of at Woodruff Abbey.

'God, Aurelia. When I first met you at the Gap I should have dragged you back to Atherton immediately and never let you leave.'

'You were about to leap off a cliff, if I recall it rightly, so perhaps you had other thoughts upon your mind.'

'I hope I would not have jumped.' His voice was lower, more serious.  'But war had deadened everything until we kissed and then … ' He stopped.

'Then what?'

'You made me feel again.'

Smiling, she raised her hand to his cheek, softly running her fingers  into the hair at his temple and watching the gold in his eyes warm to  honey.

'Like this?' she asked, her thumb rubbing against his lower lip. 'Or  like this?' she added, feeling the line of his neck as the muscles in  his throat tensed.

'Like it all, sweetheart.' He seized her fingers and brought them to his  lips, his tongue sliding across the skin, leaving trails of cold.

'I love you, Stephen.' In his eyes the flicker of wary green ran into  gold, but as she turned to her horse and mounted she knew that it would  not be long before he would tell her all the things she wanted to hear.

Aurelia had allowed him her body and her mind in a generous and easy  gift of taking. Even now as they turned for home, he thought if he  reached for her again and called a halt she would let him slide into the  hidden warmth, nothing held back or bargained for. Swearing beneath his  breath, he stopped himself from doing just that because on the horizon  rain clouds gathered and it was a long ride home.

She was a siren with a heart of gold and the mind of an academic. She  was a woman whose ardour matched his and who was not averse to any  sharing.

He wished it were night already, all duties to others fulfilled and ten  long hours to satisfy himself only with his bride. Yesterday had only  been a taste of what he could show her and she was a woman of bounteous  charms. He could hardly wait for the moon to rise.

Shavvon was waiting for them on their return and he did not look happy. A  group of three other men Stephen recognised leaned against a coach, the  horses newly run and breathing hard.

'You are early.'

'Delsarte is dead.'

He heard Aurelia take in a breath and saw Alexander Shavvon glance over  at her, the indifference in his eyes changing into something else  entirely.

'So this is Aurelia St Harlow?'

'She is Lady Hawkhurst now.'

'You have married her?'

'Indeed.'

Hawk did not expect to hear a quick bark of laughter or to see approval in deep brown eyes.

'To keep her safe?'

'More than that.'

'More?'

'I love her.' There, it was said into the open, the ease of it  surprising. He felt Aurelia's hand stiffen on his arm where she held it.

'You realise that there will be a price to pay, Hawk, for such recklessness.'

Staying silent, he listened.

'If you stay for the next two years in the British Service, I will consider any debt discharged.'

Stephen's heart sank at the request. For so long now he had been trying  to escape, but if such a duty would keep his wife safe then so be it.  When he nodded Shavvon smiled, but Aurelia had stepped forwards, a heavy  frown upon her brow.

'No. I will not allow my husband to pay for my mistakes, Mr Shavvon.  Instead I will offer you the chance of apprehending more of the same ilk  of Delsarte and easily.'

'How?'

'My mother is surrounded by men who would harm England, men who with  only a little persuasion may be tempted to take up the position that has  been left empty by the demise of Delsarte. With a small expenditure of  energy we might catch them.'