The Gilded Web (47 page)

A half-hour later she was not feeling at all sure that she had done the right thing to come. It was all wrong, of course, to pursue him here to his most private place, on the same night that she had told his mother and her own parents that they were no longer to be married. All wrong. Madness, in fact. But she held that awareness at bay. She did not have leisure to think about such matters. She needed all her wits to see where she was going.

Even though it was not a dark night, it was dark enough among the trees to make it very difficult to see the ground beneath her feet. If it had not been for the river flowing along beside her, she would have been hopelessly lost. And there was the constant worry that she would not know where to turn off in order to climb to the stone hut and that she really would be lost when she started to ascend.

She stood for a long time on the bank of the river at the spot she thought was the right one. She did not fancy at all the idea of climbing up among those dark trees. How could she tell who or what was up there?

She shrugged finally and turned resolutely upward. It was either that or return to Amberley again alone. And if she did get lost, it would not be forever. Dawn could not be too far in the future. Besides, all she had to do was go downward until she reached the valley floor and the river.

She thought she was not going to be able to find it. She must have wandered a little to her right in the ascent. But she did find it, more by luck than judgment, she thought. There it was, the small clearing among the trees, and the stone hut against the hill, its door standing open.

She stood for a long time, more reluctant than ever, now that she was there, to move forward and make her presence known. Why had she come anyway? What more was there to say? What comfort was she looking for? Or hoping to give?

She crossed slowly to the doorway and stood looking in. There was a candle burning on the table. He was lying on the straw bed, the blanket spread beneath him. He was wearing only his shirt and breeches. One leg was drawn up at the knee, his bare foot flat on the bed. One arm was across his eyes, the other reaching to the floor beside him.

She must have made some sound or created some shadow. He pulled his arm sharply away from his eyes suddenly and turned to look at her. There was a moment's pause, and then he was on his feet and coming toward her.

L
ORD AMBERLEY DID NOT KNOW QUITE HOW he had got through the ball. The necessity of circulating constantly among his guests, making conversation, dancing, making sure that everyone was enjoying himself, and of smiling, smiling, smiling, had been almost beyond his powers of endurance. Up until suppertime he had kept up his spirits tolerably well by blanking his mind to what he knew must come tomorrow. But even the night had been stolen from him. Lord Beckworth had asked an awkward question and Alex had answered it directly.

Somehow he had smoothed over the moment—with help from Sir Cedric, he seemed to remember. But there had been no more pretending after that. Dancing with Alex had been an agony. He had felt the need to smile even for her so that she would not suspect the full truth. And for the rest of the evening he had been left to worry about her, to wonder where she had gone, what she was doing. And the cold demeanor of Beckworth and the troubled, sympathetic glances of his mother had been equally disturbing.

He could not go to bed after the last guest had taken his leave or retired to his assigned room. He had sent the servants away, insisting that all the tasks of clearing away might be left for the morning. And he had gone to his own room, undressed, realized that he could not lie down, donned riding clothes, and gone back downstairs with the intention of saddling a horse and riding up onto the cliffs. Perhaps the sea air would drug his mind, tire him enough so that he could rest.

But he had changed his mind. Once outside, he had longed for peace and quiet, total solitude, so that he could get his mind in order for the coming day. It was not forgetfulness he needed at the moment, or sleep, but tranquillity of mind, the ability to deal with the difficult day ahead. He must appear calm. It must appear that what Alex wanted was what he wanted too.

And so, late as it was, he had gone striding off up the valley up to the hut, which had never failed him. He could not afford to spend more than a few hours there, but he would make them enough. He would be able to think better there, relax better there, than in his own room at home.

He had lit a candle, thrown off his coat, spread the blanket over the straw on the rough bed he had made several years before, and lain down. It was a warm night; he had left the door open. He stared up at the ceiling for a while, and then threw an arm over his weary eyes.

Alex. He had known her for only a few weeks. Before he had met her, he had thought himself quite self-sufficient. He really had not felt the need of anyone else to help him along with the business of living. It was true that he had contemplated marriage with Eunice, but more because he had felt that life would be pleasant and comfortable with her than because he had felt any real need of her.

Just a few weeks ago! Could he have changed so drastically in such a short time? Surely he was just as capable now of living alone, of relying on himself for all his needs? Surely another person could not so quickly and so easily have become indispensable to him?

The prospect of living out the rest of his life, all the years ahead, seemed so dreary without Alex. He had meant right from the start, of course, to love her. He had intended to marry her, and it had seemed to him that he must love his wife. But he had not known at that time what love was—not the total love of a man for a woman. He had felt affection before, and responsibility, and respect, and friendship, and sexual desire. He had felt them all. But never all together, centered in one person, with that indefinable something in addition to all the parts that made her like the half of his own soul.

He had not known that he would grow to love Alex like that for the simple reason that he had not known such a love existed. And how was he now to smile and let her go? And how was he to pick up the threads of his old life and carry on, seeing to Mama's comfort and Madeline's happiness, protecting them as best he could from the anxiety of knowing Dominic in the army and in battle, looking after the running of his estate, the welfare of those dependent upon him? He did not think he had the will to carry on.

Something was at the door. He pulled his arm from his eyes and turned quickly toward the opening, expecting to see a deer or some other wild animal. At first he could not see beyond the candlelight. And then he was on his feet and crossing the room to the door.

“Alex?” he said, looking out at her in some wonder.

“I promised I would never come here,” she said.

He shook his head. “I told you that you did not need to make such a promise,” he said.

There seemed to be nothing to say after that. They stared at each other. She was wearing the blouse she had worn on that first occasion when he had brought her here. Her hair was loose and in riotous curls down her back. Her eyes were large and wary. She looked remarkably as she had the first time he saw her.

He reached out and touched his fingertips to her cheek. Then he ran the backs of his fingers along her jawline to her chin.

“Why did you come?” he asked.

He felt her swallow against his fingers. “I don't know,” she said. And then she reached up and caught at his wrist. “Yes, I do know. I want to make love with you.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “Alex,” he said, “I cannot so dishonor you.”

“I do not intend to marry,” she said. “No one will ever know except you and me. It is what we both want, is it not?”

“In a marriage bed, dear,” he said.

“No. Not there,” she said. “There it would be my duty to submit to you. It would not be making love. I want to give myself to you freely. I am free now. I want to give.”

“I may get you with child,” he said.

She looked stricken for a moment, and then she shook her head.

He looked up to the sky behind her head. There were no stars, though it was not total blackness. When he looked back down at her, she was looking back, her dark eyes large and calm. She was waiting for what he would decide. She still held to his wrist.

He drew her inside the hut, leaving the door open behind her. He framed her face with gentle hands and threaded his fingers in her hair. He looked into her eyes and answered the question there with his own.

She reached up and began to unbutton her blouse. She pulled it from the waistband of her skirt when she reached the lower buttons and shrugged it off her shoulders. She let it drop to the floor behind her. She reached behind her, worked at the buttons of her skirt, and let it also fall to the floor. She stood before him in a thin silk shift. His hands had remained in her hair, his fingers lightly massaging her head, his thumbs rubbing against her cheeks and temples. He watched her eyes as they roamed over his face and his shoulders and chest.

Then her hands were on his shoulders briefly and moved to undo the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers were trembling. He did not help her until she drew the garment free of his breeches and he lifted his arms so that she could pull it off over his head.

He could see through the thin shift that her breathing had quickened. She buried her face against his naked shoulder suddenly and set her hands at his waist.

“I am so very frightened,” she said with a breathless laugh.

He hooked his thumbs beneath the straps of her shift, pulled it free of her shoulders, and slid it down her body. She straightened her arms downward without lifting her head. He undid the buttons of his breeches, slid them down over his hips, and kicked free of them, before putting his arms around her and drawing her against him. She gasped and lifted her head to look into his face.

“Shall I put out the candle?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No,” she said. “I want to see you. I want you to see me.”

He lowered his head and kissed her. And took instant fire. He had never held anyone quite so incredibly feminine, or anyone who put herself against him with quite such heated and naked abandon.

There was to be no gradual building of desire, no slow and erotic exploration, no careful preparation of an uninitiated virgin. Hands, lips, tongues, bodies touched ungently, urgently, with the mutual and desperate need for union and release. She clung to him, moved against him, moaned at his touch, at his kiss, which ravished her mouth.

He tumbled her to the bed, following her there in his urgency and drawn on top of her by the desperation of her arms. And without any further preparation, without any agonizing over how he might avoid giving her pain, he was between her thighs and stabbing deeply into her. She cried out and clung to him with both arms and legs when it seemed that he might draw back.

“No,” she cried to him. “Come to me. Come to me. Oh, please, Edmund. Please.”

And she pushed up against him, twisted against him while he drove into her all the unleashed power of his passion. They cried out together, clung tautly to each other, and descended together into the world beyond passion.

She was sobbing and trembling beneath him. Lord Amberley disengaged himself from her body and moved to her side. He gathered her into his arms, smoothing back her hair with one hand, feathering soft kisses over her face.

“I hurt you,” he said. “I hurt you, Alex. I frightened you.”

“No.” She shook her head. She had stopped sobbing, though her body still shook against his. “No.”

He watched her as her eyes fluttered closed and her body gradually grew still and relaxed. He listened to her breathing grow steady and slow. And he smiled in some wonder. He did not believe he had ever before put a woman to sleep.

She was beautiful. Quite incredibly beautiful. Her hair was in wild disarray around her face and over her shoulders. Her cheeks were flushed, as far as he could see in the faint light of the candle, which was about to burn itself out. Her lips were parted in sleep. Her skin was petal smooth and creamy. Her breasts were firm and generous, her waist small, her hips provocative. Her legs—her long, shapely legs—he could feel against his own.

And she had given herself to him. Given with a passion he did not know women capable of. Given, merely because she was free to do so and wished to do so. And what of tomorrow? But he cut off the thought before it could even develop in his mind. Let tomorrow take care of itself. He would take the free gift of this very brief portion of the night.

He closed his eyes.

A
LEXANDRA KNEW INSTANTLY WHERE
she was when she woke up. She could feel her lover's arm warm beneath her head, his breath against her hair. She could feel the warmth of his body close to hers, the cool air from outside against her back. She opened her eyes and found that she could see part of his chest and one broad shoulder. But it was not candlelight by which she could see.

She turned her head and found that the world beyond the doorway was lightening. And she became aware of the early dawn chorus of birds in full progress.

“It is still very early,” Lord Amberley said at her ear. “I have just been watching the sky lighten out there.”

She turned back to look into his eyes. They were smiling back at her with that expression that had always had the power to make her catch her breath.

“Any regrets?” he asked softy.

She shook her head.

“I'm afraid I was very rough,” he said. “Are you sore?”

Alexandra paused to consider. Yes, she was sore. She could feel where he had been. But it was a pleasant soreness, one which she would not have been without. She shook her head.

He continued to smile at her with his eyes. He reached up with his free hand and smoothed back the dark hair from her face.

“You have beautiful hair,” he said. “You should not hide it so ruthlessly.”

She reached an arm up over his broad shoulder, moved close against him, and kissed him. She felt him draw in a slow breath, and his arms closed around her.

They tasted each other's lips, nibbling, teasing with their teeth. She opened her mouth and relaxed as he slid the tip of his tongue up behind her teeth and along the roof of her mouth before circling her tongue and pushing slowly in and out of her mouth. She inhaled sharply.