The man near the cave saw the storm approaching as well, and the girl in the semi-transparent gown blissfully unaware of it. Should he warn her? Try to get her back safely to wherever it was she had come from? Or should he simply take shelter?
Or take shelter with her? a wicked voice inside his head tempted him.
No, he couldn't. Everything hinged on keeping this cave a secret. He simply could not expose its whereabouts to someone he knew nothing about, no matter how lovely she was.
He decided to leave it to Fate. The entrance was already open. If she found it herself, fine. If not, well, she would get drenched, poor thing, but that would be as far as it went.
He took one last look at the refined young beauty and reluctantly headed back into the cavern. Thunder rumbled, lightning flashed, the clouds loured. Yet he still stared, until he saw her fall in the surf and get soaked.
The gown was now saturated, and clung to her every ample curve, making him groan as his loins flamed nearly out of control and the scent of sweet hot lust mingled with the salty brine of the sea cave.
But he had to get inside. There was still so much to do, even though he was sure now that they would not be coming. At least not today.
As the heavens opened and the rain poured down, he gave the beautiful young woman a last lingering look and lowered his head to duck down into the entrance to the cavern. Soaking wet she might get, but at least her life would be spared.
For if anyone discovered that she had stumbled upon this cave, she would be a dead woman.
Chapter Two
The wind whipped through Elizabeth Eltham's raven-black hair as she strode along the beach, enjoying the solitude and the bright August sunshine. It was the first day she had had completely to herself since she and her brother and the rest of their party had arrived in Ireland almost four months ago.
It had partly been her own fault. She had immersed herself so much in the affairs of each of the vast Eltham estates they had come to survey that she had ensured she would rarely get a moment to herself.
But she had decided it was high time she put away childish things. She wanted to emulate her friend Vanessa Stone in every way. Vanessa was a truly accomplished and beautiful woman, educated, and a great help to her husband Clifford, as well as his constant companion and love of his life.
Elizabeth sighed. She knew that was the real cause of her seeking to be alone on such a fine day. She had been delighted when her brother Thomas had married Charlotte, truly. But between that happy couple and the Stones, she felt like a fifth wheel.
The most recent letters from home at Brimley, Somerset, only seemed to reproach her further for her single state. Jonathan Deveril had written to tell them of his bliss with his new wife Pamela, whom he had married at Eltham Castle just before they had come to Ireland.
Even more remarkable had been the news that Jonathan's sister Sarah had also recently been married, to one of their other Rakehell acquaintances, Alexander Davenport. They were expecting a child in February.
Everyone had been stunned, but delighted. Sarah had always been so level-headed and respectable. The sister of a vicar, no less.
Of course, there had been special circumstances. Alexander had been blind and injured, with no recollection of his true identity at first. Kind and tender-hearted Sarah had obviously taken pity on the man and allowed him to live at the vicarage. Now their baby was well on its way.
Once Alexander had discovered his true identity and sorted out his affairs, they had moved into Jonathan's wife's old home, Ashton Manor. Jonathan had presided over a small quiet ceremony on the grounds. He wrote that his wife Pamela had saved cake for the missing Rakehells, which would be waiting for them as soon as they returned.
Elizabeth hoped for her friend's sake that Alexander was not too ugly or badly injured. The war had damaged many a hale and hearty young man in the most appalling ways. She just couldn't imagine…
Or imagine Sarah of all people giving herself so completely to a man she hardly knew. It was unthinkable....
Yet think about it she did, much to her shame. She was both appalled, and fascinated at the thought of what women did for love.
She shuddered despite the heat of the day. How different might all their lives have been if Elizabeth's own beloved sister Jane had not eloped with Herbert Paxton, a plausible but fiendish seducer…
She knew Thomas had told her not to fear. That when she met the right man she would know it.
But it was not so simple as that. For one thing, her brother kept such a close eye on her, and was so stern with any young man who so much as looked in her direction, she was lucky if she ever got to dance at any of the balls at all.
Admittedly, it had been a lot better since they had come to Ireland. Thomas had decided that to avoid flaunting their title, they would travel as the Elthams, rather than the Duke and Duchess of Ellesmere and their sister Lady Elizabeth. They had been pretending to be lesser cousins simply doing a summer tour of the island.