Eventually, as the hour grew late, they made their way back to the inn. Elena felt weary now but also exhilarated and pleasantly tipsy. When Harry offered her his arm she took it; somehow it seemed a natural thing to do now. They strolled in companionable silence; then he glanced her way.
‘Did you enjoy yourself this evening?’
‘More than I have for a long time. And you?’
‘Equally,’ he replied.
‘I’m glad my horse cast that shoe.’
‘I cannot say I’m sorry either. I did not think this journey would be so enjoyable.’
‘You are kind.’
‘No, just truthful.’ He stopped and drew her round to face him. ‘You must stop thinking of yourself as some kind of encumbrance.’
‘I wish I could.’
‘You have no reason to feel guilty and nor would I have you do so.’
Although his face was in shadow, she heard the sincerity in his voice. He was much closer now, his face only inches from hers, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders. Her breathing quickened. Could she trust him? She wanted to, but...
He bent his head and she felt his lips brush hers, a gentle touch that sent a charge the length of her body. Doubt receded. Involuntarily she swayed towards him, feeling his arms around her shoulders pressing her closer. The kiss, though gentle still, became a little deeper and now coaxing too, until her mouth yielded to his. The taste of wine on his tongue was headier by far than any she had drunk and it was dangerously arousing, like his warmth and the musky scent of his skin. Memory removed his clothing. Imagination pressed his nakedness to hers. Her whole body quivered in response to the thought.
Harry felt the tremor and recognised it at once. It was tempting to pursue this and give ardour free rein. Yet instinct counselled patience. Elena was apparently not repelled by his advances but she’d had quite a lot to drink this evening. Was it attraction she felt or was it the wine talking? He resolved then that when their marriage was consummated it would be when she was sober and knew exactly what she was doing. Besides, deferred gratification was always stronger. If she really did want him, then waiting would only intensify desire.
He drew back. ‘Forgive me. I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘There’s no need...I mean, it wasn’t...’ She broke off, floundering.
‘It’s all right. You don’t have to explain.’ He took her hand in his. ‘Come. It’s getting late and we have an early start.’
They walked the remaining distance in silence. Elena was glad of the darkness now that hid her embarrassment and confusion. What must he think of her? She had permitted that kiss, had wanted that kiss. What she hadn’t expected was her own response. He had clearly misinterpreted it as fear. Yet just then she had no idea how to explain. And if she tried might he not take that as an invitation to further intimacies? For the first time she wondered what it might be like to give herself to him, a thought that titillated and terrified at the same time. At some point it was going to happen, that much was inevitable. He was her husband, after all, and his patience wouldn’t last for ever.
Yet when they returned to their room at the inn he made no attempt to touch her, merely undressed and climbed into bed. Elena stripped off her jacket and boots, then blew out the candle before removing her breeches. In spite of his apparent absence of embarrassment she still lacked the confidence to undress in front of him. Hurriedly she slid into bed and drew the covers over her. Then she heard his voice in the darkness.
‘Goodnight, sweetheart. Sleep well.’
The mattress moved as he turned away from her on to his side. Elena’s throat tightened and for no apparent reason she wanted to weep.
Chapter Eleven
Towards the end of that week as they descended onto the open plain, the air became sultry and oppressive. By late afternoon dark thunderheads were massing on the horizon. Harry eyed them with misgivings.
‘I’d like to find shelter before that lot arrives.’
Jack nodded. ‘Aye, my lord. It would be best.’
They rode for another couple of miles but the only sign of habitation was a lone farmhouse in the middle distance. By then the sky was darkening rapidly and the wind picking up. Harry made his decision.
‘We’ll head for the farm.’
By the time they reached it the first drops of rain began to fall. However, the place looked unprepossessing. The farmhouse itself was rambling and dilapidated with a sagging pantile roof. Elena could see two small windows, now shuttered, and a door made from stout oak planks. In front of it a few scrawny chickens scratched in the dirt. At one end was a midden. Adjacent to it were a small byre and a pigsty. Opposite those on the other side of the farmyard was an old barn.