Chapter 23

23

Sophie considered hurrying away before Rafe should see her, but somehow could not bring herself to do so. She went a little further up the steps and halted, waiting for him to reach her. He was pale, she saw now, nowhere near as composed as he had appeared to be when confronting his father, and his mouth was set in a grim line. His expression lightened a little when he saw her, and he did not seem surprised that she should be waiting to accost him. ‘We must talk,’ she said in a low tone.

‘Not here. Come into one of the empty bedchambers so we will not be overheard or observed. I am always glad to see you, but you take a terrible risk in addressing me where we might be watched.’ He took her hand in his and led her swiftly to the top of the stairs and along the corridor, then chose a door apparently at random and drew her inside, closing it very quietly behind them and turning to look at her, still frowning slightly.

She found herself in a large chamber, the furniture shrouded in Holland covers that gave it a desolate appearance. They stood close together, well away from the tall windows, and spoke in low tones, though in truth there was little chance of an eavesdropper here.

‘You were trying to enrage him on purpose,’ she said. It seemed extraordinary to her. It didn’t occur to her to apologise for listening – such niceties of behaviour were far behind them.

‘It’s easy enough for me to drive him distracted,’ he answered with a shrug. ‘And he me, for that matter. But on this occasion I thought it might help. My first impulse was to spend last night here, to remain close by and make sure you were safe, but I then I realised that if I went away it might lead him to think that I must have taken the jewels. I could have done, after all. I imagine it would be easy enough to ascertain that I’m the only person who left the house last night. Left the estate, in fact.’

‘Apart from the thief,’ she said with the ghost of a smile, and she could see his response to it in his dark eyes.

‘Apart from the thief, of course, through the open window.’

‘I don’t want you to feel you need to protect me.’ Of late years, Sophie had gloried in her independence, had taken pride in the fact that she didn’t need anybody. There was no reason at all why that should have changed.

‘I wouldn’t presume to do so. You’re hardly in need of my protection. But I thought it might be useful to turn his mind away from the household.’

‘He can’t seriously suspect you – his own son?’

‘I’m not sure he’s entirely rational just now. And you must have seen that there is little filial feeling between us. But you were locked away with all the maids, were you not, when the crime was committed? So it’s hard to see how you could be suspected. I congratulate you.’

‘I was locked away,’ she said serenely.

‘You can pick locks?’ he asked, coming closer still, the tension from the unpleasant encounter with his father visibly leaving his body, to be replaced by a different kind of tautness and focus.

‘I have all sorts of uncommon skills,’ she murmured. He was not the only one capable of deliberate provocation.

‘I remember that.’

And then she was in his arms, unsure which of them had made the first move, but sure that it did not matter. His strong arms were about her, pulling her to him, and she ran her fingers up into his glossy dark hair and drew his head down for a kiss. ‘I did not sleep for thinking of you!’ he breathed against her lips, and then there was no need for talking.

There was a sort of hunger in the way that they claimed each other, but it didn’t feel entirely like desire, or not at first. It felt more like deep mutual need. They’d shared a curious moment of connection the night before in the shadowed corridor, and been interrupted, and were both in a state of heightened emotion. Their kiss was deep and slow and satisfying, and for a long time it was enough. His hands were tight about her waist and hers remained buried deep in his hair; their bodies were pressed together down their whole length. It was comfort they sought as much as anything else, as it had been when they had held each other a few hours before.

But gradually and inevitably passion grew between them. Her hands slipped from his head, trailed down his broad chest and found their way under his coat; she was fumbling instinctively with the buttons of his waistcoat, pulling up his shirt, seeking his skin, and his lips had left hers and were tracing a path down her throat, where the high, modest neck of her gown frustrated his efforts to go further. He picked her up and carried her across the room to a console table that sat against one wall, and lifted her, pulling her skirts so that he could fix his hands on her bare bottom; she wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself eagerly against him. Her lips were at his ear; she sucked his earlobe into her hot mouth, then nipped at it and whispered, ‘I thought you said that your father’s activities drove all amorous thoughts entirely from your head?’

‘I lied!’ he groaned.

He was hard against her, his erection pressing into her belly through the fabric of her gown, and she dug her heels into his buttocks and sucked on his sensitive lobe, teasing at it with her teeth. He was kissing her face, her neck, her hair, murmuring broken endearments as though he hardly knew what he was saying. Her hands had found his skin under his shirt, and he held her, a willing captive, with his hands splayed wide and his caressing fingertips tantalisingly close – but not close enough – to the core of her.

And then he stilled. He did not release her, but he pulled back a little with one last lingering kiss. ‘This is too dangerous,’ he whispered against her mouth, his reluctance obvious. ‘We both know it is.’

‘You’re right,’ she said, slipping her hands slowly down his chest, then lower, where his warm skin met the buckskin of his breeches. It was dangerous, and just now she didn’t care. But he captured her hands and brought them up to his lips, kissing them, one and then the other, and holding them to his face, cradled in his much larger ones.

He shook his head, frustration clear in every inch of him. ‘I don’t know how I have the strength to stop you when I want nothing more in the world than to let you continue. God knows I want your hands on me, and your lovely mouth. God knows I want to taste you again, and make you scream with pleasure, and then throw you down on that bed and take you, to plunge deep into you and lose myself. I want to see you naked, in the daylight, as I have not yet. I want to explore every inch of you, and make love to you for hours, for days, until you lose your senses, and I do too. But we can’t. Not here, not now. We risk too much. You risk your life, Sophie, and you know it.’

She sighed, and caressed his face, easing herself off the table and letting her legs slide down his until her feet touched the floor once more. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘I know you’re right.’ She pulled her hands from him, and he let her go, though they were still standing very close. She rested her head on his chest, just for a moment, and he raised one hand and cupped it. ‘It feels so safe, when you hold me like this. As though nothing and no one could touch us. But it’s an illusion, isn’t it?’

‘There’s no safety in this house,’ he agreed sombrely. ‘You are in mortal danger every day you spend here. If he should discover what you have done, who you are…’

All at once the stark reality of their situation came flooding in on her. ‘I’ve been very foolish,’ she said, stepping away from him and shaking out her crumpled skirts, reaching up with hands that trembled slightly and attempting to smooth down her disordered hair. ‘And it must stop now, you’re quite correct. You know I am attracted to you – it would be ridiculous to deny it after what has already passed between us. But we are the last two people in the world who should have anything to do with each other.’

‘Yes,’ he said, his face a mask now, its strong planes hard, uncompromising, almost stern. ‘I cannot and should not forget what Wyverne did to your father, and to your whole family. I know you will never forget it or forgive it, and I could not dream of asking you to do so.’

Her tone matched his in bleakness. ‘I’m glad you realise that – it means I don’t have to say it. I need to be ruthless now, and make sure I get away safely, with everything I came for.’

‘I want that too,’ he said more gently. ‘If I cannot have you, and I know I cannot, because I fear that too much lies between us to keep us apart, I need to know that you are safe and well, somewhere in the world.’

His tender words brought unexpected moisture to her eyes, but she refused to give in to them. ‘I should go. My place is with your grandmother, carrying out my duties, in case anyone comes looking for me.’

‘It will be a while before you can get away from this house,’ he warned her. ‘Anyone who tries to leave in the coming days will have their luggage searched, I’m sure.’

‘I’m in no particular rush. I will be cautious. I have waited too long to ruin everything at this late date.’

He kissed her, a brief sad kiss, and strode towards the door. ‘I’ll go first,’ he said. ‘I’ll make sure the passageway is deserted. I could find an excuse for being in this part of the house, where you could not. Wait a while before you follow me. And I’ll be here, as much as I can. In case you need me.’

And then he was gone and she was alone.