by Louise Allen
Emily’s outburst had shaken him with the realisation of just how much he had taken for granted. He had married and thought he could just carry on as he had before he married and as a result he had hurt her. Even so, her distress had seemed to be for more than that. I was silly enough to – To what? To fall in love? Something inside him seemed to shift. ‘Emily – ‘
‘Major, sir!’ Two men stood at the foot of the slope with a donkey with a battered bag and a pack on its back. ‘We were just bringing this up to the Governor’s house, sir.’
Blake stared at them. Those scruffy bags had been across Spain with him as they had across what seemed like most of war-torn Europe. He felt as battered as they looked.
And then he realised why he was going to sell out, why the title and the estates and all his other responsibilities were trivial in comparison. Those bags contained something he needed now almost more than anything else. It might give him what he wanted, although he was not certain he would ever have it. But he was going to try, here and now.
‘Give them to me.’ He strode down to the bottom, found money in his pocket and tipped the two sailors. ‘Thank you.’
Emily was at his side, rather pale around the mouth. ‘Blake I am sorry for what I said back there. You had no reason to trust me, you hardly knew me. I should not have let it hurt so much. But making love was so special and I suppose I suddenly wanted more than it was reasonable to expect.’
‘I understand.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. ‘Come on.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘To change something,’ he said. ‘Perhaps everything. Will you come with me?’
Emily did not ask where, or what he was talking about, only smiled. ‘Anywhere,’ she said simply.
‘That will do.’ He crossed the square and turned towards the narrow street leading to the quay where the Mermaid Inn occupied the corner.
‘Not a great adventure then,’ Emily said prosaically. ‘I was prepared for ocean voyages.’
‘Later perhaps,’ Blake murmured as he opened the door for her. A man in a vast white apron appeared. ‘Landlord, have you a private parlour where we can take luncheon?’
The man nodded. ‘Aye, sir. Just through this door. Best one in the house, the lady will be comfortable here.’
‘Send up some food, wine. Whatever is good.’ He turned to Emily. ‘Will you be all right here alone for a few minutes?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded, puzzled but willing, it seemed, to go along with his mysterious behaviour.
‘Good. I won’t be long.’ Blake closed the door and turned to the landlord. ‘I need the use of a chamber for fifteen minutes.’
The man’s eyebrows rose. Whatever situation he had been imagining, it obviously did not include the lady in one room and the gentleman in another. ‘This one is free, sir.’
‘Thank you.’ Blake carried the bags into the room and began to open them. His mouth felt dry, his stomach was apparently home to a small flock of butterflies. This was how it felt going into battle or stalking and being stalked undercover. All he had to lose then was his life: this felt considerably more important.
Emily sat and regarded a plate of bread and butter, a raised pie, a platter of crabs and a small mountain of sliced beef. She did not think she could manage a mouthful. With a hand that shook slightly she poured herself a glass of wine and sipped it.
Why was Blake being so forbearing? She had made a scene in public and in front of troops, just to make it worse for him. She had so nearly betrayed how she felt about him, which would have embarrassed him even more because, probably, he would have felt it necessary to be kind to her about her inconvenient, and no doubt ill-bred, folly of falling in love.
He had demonstrated all too clearly that his marriage was very much second-best in his life and that his wife was an afterthought. I did not know you… It did not occur to me to confide in you… And yet she had seen real anger in his face when she had turned from the shelter of the lieutenant’s arms and saw Blake bearing down on them like an avenging angel.
The door opened and a stranger came in. Then she looked again and it was Blake, in civilian clothes. She had never seen him wear them, never imagined him without the scarlet coat, the braid and the epaulettes. If she had thought about it she would have imagined him looking somehow diminished by the loss of his martial plumage, but that was not the case.
‘Emily? What are you thinking? I did not expect to strike you dumb.’ He closed the door but he did not sit, only stood there and regarded her gravely.
‘I am thinking,’ she said, startled out of all attempts at concealment, ‘that without your uniform I am seeing the real man and that there is even more to him than there is to the gallant major.’
‘You approve?’ She nodded. ‘Thank goodness for that, because I do not intend to wear uniform again, not even when I go to Horse Guards to sell out. I am a civilian now, Emily and I will remain one.’
‘Are you certain?’ She had to understand, had to do what was the right thing for him, for her love. ‘I know you are not doing this for me, but for the estate and those responsibilities. But if you have to go, I can cope. I will do my best to manage things as you would wish them.’
‘What about the children?’ Blake enquired.
‘You would come home occasionally, wouldn’t you?’ she ventured and found she could not keep the yearning out of her voice.
To her relief, he grinned. ‘And spend every day of my leave ensuring that the nursery stayed full? No, Emily, King and country have had their due from me. Unless we are invaded I will grow oaks for the navy and beef for the army.’
‘And sons for the succession?’
Blake came and sat on the corner of the table, one leg swinging. He caught her right hand in his and raised it to his lips. ‘Sons and daughters in their mother’s image.’ Her pulse stuttered and then steadied as she looked down at the long fingers holding hers. ‘A little while ago you asked me why I married you, Emily, and did not wait for my answer.’
‘I should not have asked, for I know it.’ This was where Blake explained, kindly, the rules of their marriage. ‘You needed an heiress for all the reasons you said. And we got along well enough.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed and, despite knowing what he would say, her heart still sank. ‘And I found a most delightful heiress – charming, intelligent, lovely. All very pleasant and really far less trouble than I imagined.’ She swallowed the hurt and then saw he was smiling. ‘Then I went away and I found I missed my new wife and I had to make myself concentrate on what I was doing and not think about her. And when I was wounded and feeling pretty grim, I found that thinking about her was all I needed to keep going, to keep my courage up.’
‘Oh, Blake.’
He held his hand up and stopped her saying anything more. ‘I was a fool, of course.’ Emily swallowed back what felt uncomfortably like tears: she was not going to disgrace herself. ‘I did not understand what I felt when I discovered I was holding you in my arms last night. I did not understand what it meant when I realised that I never wanted to touch another woman when I had you to make love to. I did not know that I was in love with you until I saw you in that lieutenant’s arms and felt jealousy and possessiveness hit me like a fist in the gut.’
Emily found she had lost the power of speech. She could only sit and stare at him and wonder if the blow to her head last night had disordered her senses so she was hearing the words she dreamed of. Blake was saying he loved her…
‘I understand,’ he added ruefully, ‘that you did not marry me expecting this. You married me for practical reasons and expected a rational, companionable sort of arrangement. Well, I am sorry, Emily, because I have no intention of being rational or sensible, although I will do my best to be companionable. I don’t know if I can make you love me, but I am doing to have a damn good try.’
‘You would be wasting your time, trying,’ she said and saw his jaw harden and his eyes darken. Emily found she was on her
feet, her hand still tight in Blake’s grasp. ‘Because I already do love you. I married you, loving you. That is why I was so upset when you talked about leaving the army. I am ashamed of it, but I thought you would become a civilian for the estate, but not for me. Not that I would ever ask you to abandon your duty, but I was so frightened that I would lose you and –‘
She did not finish the sentence. Blake pulled her to him so she was caught between his strong thighs and held while he kissed her with such passion that she could hardly breathe, such determination that she thought he would never let her go. When he did, finally, raise his head she could only drop her cheek to his shoulder and cling while their hearts thudded against each other as though they had been fighting for their lives.
Perhaps we have, Emily thought hazily. Fighting to have love for the rest of our lives.
‘I thought you did not really want me,’ she murmured against his neck.
‘Why ever not?’ Blake managed to find her chin with one finger and tip her head back so he could look into her face.
‘Because when you made love to me it was –‘
‘Not good?’ he asked and she felt his whole body stiffen.
‘No, it was wonderful. But you were … careful. And you did not show me what to do to please you, so I wondered if perhaps you were just being kind.’ She hesitated, knowing she was becoming pinker with every word. ‘I thought if you loved me you would be unable to control your passion. But I do not know much about it,’ she added hastily.
‘I didn’t want to frighten you,’ Blake bent to feather kisses over her lips. ‘I thought I would shock you.’
‘I was shocked this morning when you kissed me like that in the pasture. I was shocked at myself when I made love to you just now. I think I would like to be shocked some more,’ Emily murmured. ‘If there was anything outrageous you felt like doing. Or that you would like me to do.’
Blake closed his eyes as though he was in pain but she felt the pressure against her lower belly and wriggled herself a little closer, wickedly happy when she heard him catch his breath.
‘Yes, there are a hundred things. Emily, you can do whatever you like. You can tie me to the bed and torment me with peacock feathers if it gives you pleasure.’ Blake surged to his feet, laughing, she supposed, at the expression on her face. Tied to the bed? Peacock feathers? ‘Come on, let’s get out of here now before I faint with lust.’
Somehow they got out of the inn. Behind them the landlord stood clutching a lavish number of coins and shaking his head over instructions to repack Blake’s bags and have them delivered to the Star Castle. Scrambling up the steep hill, towed along by Blake’s ruthless grip, left her breathless, but Emily still just had strength to run with him up to the castle gate.
‘I can’t,’ she panted as they came to the uneven stone steps winding up to the battlements so Blake simply scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs, across the bridge and into her chamber.
‘Now,’ he said as he set her on her feet and threw the bolt across the door. ‘Have your wicked way with me.’
‘Take all your clothes off,‘ Emily said as she tore at her own. ‘Darling Blake, I do love you.’ The force with which she threw herself into his arms rocked him back against the door.
‘Ough!’
‘Oh, your shoulder! Blake, I am so –‘
‘Come here,’ Blake growled and lifted her off her feet. ‘Put your legs around my waist.’ As she obeyed he spun round and set her back against the panels. ‘And I treat you as though you are fragile, do I?’ He pushed with his hips and slid, hot and solid and wonderful, straight inside her where she was so hot and wet and aching for him and then, even as she clung gasping to his shoulders he began to thrust deep and fast so that the sensation crashed through her leaving her no room to think, only to feel the power and the love in him, to hear his gasping breath, smell the mingled musk and heat of their bodies.
Before, Blake had been slow, gentle, careful of her pleasure. Now he seemed to trust her to find her rhythm to match his, to shift position to find the point of most exquisite contact, to urge him on with incoherent cries as the pressure built and twisted inside her to the point of pain and beyond into an explosion of sensation.
Emily screamed and heard Blake’s own shout as he convulsed against her. The room swirled and shook around them, colours flashed as though they were inside a lightening storm and then there was nothing except complete peace.
‘Emily.’
‘Mmm?’
‘I love you.’ Blake’s voice was husky with an emotion she had never heard before
‘I love you too.’ There was skin, slicked with sweat, under her cheek and she turned her head and kissed it. Her eyes fluttered open and she found they were still against the door, their bodies still joined. ‘Shall we go and lie down?’
Blake straightened up, turned and staggered the few steps to the bed, then collapsed onto it, Emily sprawled on top of him. ‘Thank heavens for Elizabethan furniture construction. I think this thing must be solid oak.’
‘There’s a bed like this at Greystoke,’ she said. ‘Shall we have it in our bedchamber?’
‘I think we had better. Modern furniture is just not strong enough for the sort of things I have in mind.’ Blake opened his eyes and looked up at her. ‘You look deliciously wanton lying there, my love.’
‘Say that again.’
‘You look –‘ Emily shook her head and his mouth twisted into a wicked, tender smile. ‘My love. My love. My love.’
Emily sighed happily. ‘This is perfect. Could we… Can we make love again later?’
‘We can make love again now.’ Blake put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, long lashes feathering his cheeks. She caught the glint that betrayed that he was still watching her. ‘I am entirely at your disposal. But you, my wife, must do all the work.’
Emily sat up, ran her hands into her hair and shook it out. She stretched sinuously, wantonly. ‘I intend to drive you wild, my lord.’
‘Is that a promise?’ Blake growled.
‘Oh yes. Every day until you beg me to stop.’ She slid forward, her nipples brushing the dark hairs on his chest and found his mouth and opened hers over it and sank into his heat and strength and love.
Every day, my love. Every day.
Author Note
The Star Castle on St Mary’s is now a delightful hotel whose wonderful cream teas I have sampled but, as far as I am aware, it has no ghosts.