She said, “I spoke with your Captain Forbes. He told me of you and your family.” He felt her turn to look at him. “Your uncle. I knew some of it. I guessed some of it, too, when I heard you speak that night with such conviction, and when you were talking with your men and did not know I was there.” He felt the pressure of her hand on his arm. “And then you helped me.”
“When you were sick.”
She laughed softly. “I was drunk, like some dockside slut!” She quickened her pace, and he could sense her mind moving, exploring it again. “He came to me that night, did you know? He is like that. He cannot believe that I need to be myself on occasion, a person-not some thing to arouse his passion!”
He said, “I think you should stop, m’ lady. I came here because I wanted to see you. Even if you had spat in my face, I would have come.”
She stopped by the parapet once more and stared at the anchored vessels. Almost to herself, she murmured, “Your world, Adam. Something I can never share.” She turned. “I did not marry from choice, or out of greed, for myself.”
Without realising what he was doing, he put his fingers to her lips.
“There is no need to tell me. I am not proud of some of the things I have done, or what I might have done, if my life had been different. So let this be a secret between us.”
Gently, firmly, she pulled his hand away.
“My father was a fine man, but when my mother died of fever he seemed to fall apart. Sir Lewis, as he now is, was his junior partner, a man of ambition. He was quick to come to his assistance.” She touched the buttons on his coat. “And he taught him how to enjoy himself again.” She laughed, a small, bitter sound on the still air. “Introduced him to others who would help to expand the business, the only thing he had left to care about. Gambling, drink… he would not listen to a word against Lewis. He could not see the ground opening beneath his feet. There were debts, broken contracts with government commissions, with the military as well as the navy. In the end,” she gave a little shrug, and Adam felt it like a blow, “prison was the only reality. We would have been left like beggars. My two brothers also work for the business. I was given little choice. No choice at all.”
He hardly dared to speak, afraid to break the moment.
“So he asked you to marry him, and then all the debts would be made good, and the business restored.”
“You know my husband,” she said. “What do you believe?”
“I believe I should go. Leave here without delay.” He felt her move as though she too would go, but he did not release her. “I know I have no right, and others would condemn me…”
She said softly, “But?” Only one word.
“That night, aboard my ship, I wanted you.” He pulled her closer, feeling her warmth, her nearness. Her awareness. “I still do.”
She leaned against him, her face in his shirt, perhaps giving herself time to recognise the danger, and the folly.
She said, “You have not been fed by the gallant Captain Forbes. I can at least do something about that.” She tried to laugh. “I can smell the cognac, so I was right about the pair of you!”
But when he held her again she was shivering.
“We will go inside… then you can tell me all about yourself.” She could not continue. “Come, now. Quickly. Banish all doubts!” She paused only to look at the harbour. “All that can wait, this once.”
Even though he had never set foot in the place before, he knew it was the same. Here Catherine had spent her last night with her Richard, in these rooms which Avery had found so difficult to describe, and of which Bethune had carefully avoided speaking, as if it was too painful even for him.
He walked to a window and eased the shutter aside very slightly and looked down into the courtyard, dark now but for the reflected glow from a copper dusk.
He heard the sentry at the gates stamp his feet, and the clink of metal as he shifted his musket, yawning at the dragging hours.
There were no lights in the windows opposite. Forbes had gone to dine with the army; the staff had probably been left to do as they pleased until Bethune’s return.
He felt his muscles contract. Voices now, very low, the sound of glasses. And when he closed the shutter and turned he saw her facing him from the other side of the room, her eyes very clear in the glow of candles which must have been arranged here earlier.
She said, “A little wine, Adam. It is as cool as can be expected. Some food can be sent for later.”
She watched him cross the room, and turned slightly so that the piece of silver at her breast shone suddenly like a flame. She wore a plain white gown which covered her from her throat to her feet, now bare on the marble floor.
He put his hands on her arms, and said, “You kept it. I thought you’d thrown it away.”
He touched the small silver sword and felt her stiffen as she answered, “I am wearing it for you. How could I not wear it?”
He lowered his mouth to her shoulder and kissed it, feeling the smoothness of her skin beneath the gown.
“The wine.” She pressed him away. “While it’s cool.”
He brought the glasses from the table and held one to her lips, and they looked at one another over the rims, all pretence gone, all reason scattered.
She did not resist or speak as he kissed her shoulder again, and each breast in turn until she gasped softly and put her arms around him, holding him there, her head moving from side to side as if she could no longer contain herself.
He stood, and held her at arm’s length, seeing the darker patches on the silk, where he had kissed and roused the points of her breasts.
There was a tall mirror on the wall and he turned her towards it, his hands around her waist, seeing the reflection of her eyes in the glass, then deliberately he unclipped the little sword, and opened and removed the gown. He looked over her shoulder, his face in her hair as he watched with her, as if they were onlookers, strangers. Exploring her body, feeling every response like his own, until she twisted round in his grip and said, “Kiss me. Kiss me.”
He lifted her as he had the night aboard Unrivalled, holding her tightly as they kissed again. And again. He laid her on the broad bed and threw off his coat, and the old sword slid unnoticed to a rug by his feet.
She propped herself on one elbow, and said, “No! Come to me now!”
He knelt beside her, his mind and reason gone as she struggled to free him from his clothes, pulling him down to kiss her mouth once more until they were breathless.
He gazed at her, hungry for her, the hair disordered across the pillows, the hands, suddenly strong, gripping his shoulders, one moment holding him away and then drawing him down to her body, her skin hot and damp as if with fever.
He felt her nails breaking his skin as he came against her, and she moved still further, arching her body until they were almost joined. Then she opened her eyes, and whispered, “I yield!” and gave a small, soft cry as he found and entered her.
It was like falling, or being carried along by an endless, unbroken wave.
Even when they lay exhausted she would not release him. They clung to one another, breathless, drained by the intensity of their congress, their need.
Hours later, after they had explored every intimacy, she sat on the bed, her knees drawn up to her chin as she watched him pulling on his breeches and shirt.
“A King’s officer. To everyone else but me.” She reached out impetuously and touched him again, held him, while he bent to kiss her. She had found and touched the old wound and had kissed the jagged scar, her passion roused again. No secrets, Adam…
When he looked again she was dressed in the thin robe, the silver clasp in place, as if the rest had been a wild dream.
A chapel bell was ringing tunelessly; someone was already awake. She opened the door, and he saw that fresh candles had been brought to light the stairs. Hilda, ensuring that nothing would go amiss.
He held her, feeling the supple limbs through the silk, wanting her again in spite of the risks.