‘Boorish? You were downright rude. But then, you are my employer and entitled to speak to me how you see fit if you consider I have done wrong,’ she said with more than a hint of sarcasm, ‘even to go so far as to dismiss me should my duplicity, my deceit and disloyalty not meet with your approval.’
‘You are wrong, Lisette,’ he said softly. ‘I should not have spoken to you like I did and I’m sorry if I hurt you. Not one of those words applies to you. It was unforgivable of me. My temper got the better of me.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I should try singing from Aunt Grace’s hymn sheet.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘That I should be firm to the servants without being severe, kind without being familiar, to converse with reserve and distance of manner and be particularly careful to maintain respect for their feelings.’
‘Goodness, I have much to learn about my superiors as well as my own kind.’
‘Why did you come up here and why did you seem unsurprised to see me? Did you expect me to follow you?’
She ignored his question and asked one of her own. ‘Why did you want to talk to me? What have you and I to say to each other?’
‘I told you. I wanted to apologise.’
‘You could have done that at the house without following me all the way up here.’ She pushed her hair back from her face and looked at something in the distance, as though it didn’t really matter what he said.
‘I want to talk about us, Lisette. About you and me.’ His words were spoken quietly and did not take her by surprise.
‘There is no us. There never can be.’ She sighed deeply and turned for the first time to look at him, having to tilt her head to look up into his face. ‘You are a titled gentleman, a man of some importance and wealth, and I’m just a maid employed to look after your sister. If Mrs Landes-Fraser was to see me up here with you she’d have me out of Castonbury Park in a snap.’
‘My aunt is not your employer.’
‘No, and you are not my master. No one owns me,’ she told him, getting up and brushing down her skirts.
‘I do not play the game according to society’s rules, Lisette. I write my own. That is something you will have to come to terms with.’
‘And why should I do that? We can never mean more to each other than what we are now. You are Colonel Lord Ross Montague while I am a mere maid, a domestic—the lowliest of the low. You belong to a place like Castonbury Park and I belong in your sister’s boudoir as her maid. You are soon to return to India. We are too different—worlds apart, in fact.’
‘Why?’ he demanded.
‘Because we are.’
‘Defend your argument.’
She inhaled sharply, feeling as though she was getting nowhere. ‘I’ve told you why,’ she said on a weaker note. ‘I cannot be more explicit—and we are different in our values.’
‘How? How are we different?’ he persisted.
Her eyes snapped and she almost shouted, ‘Because you are who you are and you are too eager to judge. I have just suffered your outrage at first hand...and your indifference—’
‘I am never indifferent to you, Lisette.’
‘Don’t interrupt. I suffered your indifference for some unwitting transgression.’
‘For which I have apologised.’
Emboldened by his attentive, angry stare, she forged on. ‘Perhaps you can be satisfied with a clandestine relationship but I need more than that—and I do not mean riches or rank. I fail to be dazzled by all that.’
‘Because you feel that may only make me want you more,’ he uttered quietly. ‘What is it going to take for you to let me hold you—kiss you?’
‘I don’t have a price, if that is what you mean. I have no interest in money or jewels. I am not for sale.’
Ross smiled and moved closer. ‘Well, well, Lisette. It seems you have a temper. I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.’
‘Why are you so interested in me?’ she cried. ‘There are plenty of other girls you could have—who are far prettier than I.’
‘Your question is simple to answer. It is because I don’t want anyone else. I want you.’
‘For what purpose?’ Lisette exclaimed. ‘Oh, but of course—to warm your bed. That’s it, isn’t it?’
‘More than that.’
‘Why?’ She just wanted to hear him say, Because I love you—to say those words—but not if it wasn’t true.
‘Because I do,’ he answered, refusing to say it.
‘This is not about what you want. Is that all you care about?’
He studied her irate face for a second, then he began to laugh softly. ‘You are so adorable when you’re angry—do you know that?’
‘What?’ She was bemused and growing flustered as he drew closer.
‘I have just one question for you,’ he murmured, staring into her glorious amber eyes, ‘and I want you to answer honestly.’
‘What?’
‘Do you want me?’
She stared at him, and when he reached out and brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers, she quivered. ‘I—I... Oh, don’t do that. Please don’t...’
Ross realised the effect his caressing fingers were having on her senses, but he responded with a questioning lift to his brows. ‘Why not?’ he asked, running his fingers down her neck. ‘You like me to touch you.’
‘I—’ she began, uncomfortably aware of the knowing look in his eyes.
‘Yes?’ he prompted.
Lisette swallowed hard and turned her head away, telling herself she must be strong. ‘I don’t know—exactly,’ she admitted. All she knew for certain was that, for just a moment, she would have liked to be in his arms.
Suddenly he laughed and took hold of her hand. His mood had changed. ‘Come, Lisette—we will continue this conversation later. But first I have a present for you.’
Totally bemused, Lisette followed him to the other side of the barn where two horses were tethered side by side. One was Bengal, the other a beautiful white mare she had often favoured with an apple. Puzzled, she looked up at Colonel Montague.
‘You did not come alone?’
‘Oh, yes.’
‘But...I don’t understand.’
He grinned roguishly. ‘Knowing of your passion for horses—and that you have not had the opportunity to ride since you left India, which must be torture in itself, I thought you might appreciate a gallop.’
Lisette stared at him, unable to believe the marvel of what he was offering. ‘But...how can I? If I am seen atop a horse out of the Montague stable—have you any idea how I will be made to suffer?’
‘Don’t think of it, otherwise it will spoil our ride.’
‘But...the risk if we are caught...’
He grinned. ‘I’m prepared to risk it if you are. It will be well worth it.’
She returned his smile, too excited with anticipation of the ride to care.
‘Let’s get you into the saddle and we’ll be away. To have ordered the groom to fit a side-saddle onto the horse’s back would have raised eyebrows, so you will have to ride astride.’
She laughed, thrilled by the prospect of being back on a horse. ‘I ride no other way.’
Chapter Seven
Lisette sat tall and straight-backed in the saddle; her shoulders were slim and square, her head erect instead of submissively bent as becomes a gently nurtured woman. But to Ross riding beside her as they rode among the green-clad hills, her plain servant’s garb seemed to emphasize her femininity far more than the graceful folds of a lady’s velvet habit. The straight lines of her body showed the swell of her breasts and her slender waist and rounded hips.
The mare was galloping at full stretch, and it was doubtful anyone could have turned her—but Lisette made no effort to do so, as she crouched over the saddlehorn with her weight thrown forward and without any idea where they were going.
At first she worried Ross with her recklessness, bent so low over her horse’s neck with her face almost buried in the dancing mane, riding
as no lady should and astride. But his fears were soon dispelled. She was one of the most skilled riders he’d ever seen—man or woman—light and lovely in the saddle. He gave a shout of laughter as Bengal thundered over the hard green turf alongside her. Riding at breakneck pace, Lisette took each jump with an effortless, breezy unconcern for style that Ross had never seen before. He grinned approvingly. There was jubilant simplicity as she soared over each jump, at one with her mount—confident, trusting and elated—its tail floating behind like a bright defiant banner.
They had been too occupied to pay much attention to how far they had ridden. Dreading the moment when she would have to dismount, they slowed their horses to a walk.
‘I never knew a woman could ride like that,’ Ross exclaimed with an admiring laugh. She was smiling broadly, her generous lips drawn back over perfect white teeth, and her colour was gloriously high. ‘I think it’s time we turned back.’
The horses wandered forward unchecked, pausing occasionally to crop a mouthful of grass and moving on again while their riders were content to go with them. Coming to the brow of a hill they paused and looked down the slope at parkland which rolled away into the distance. Lisette’s eye was caught by some sort of encampment with an assortment of brightly painted caravans and carts. Some of them had a shabby appearance. Dogs roamed and several piebald and skewbald ponies grazed nearby. While children played, men and women stood about talking and others sat around a fire where ribbons of smoke spiralled upwards out of the embers. Swarthy skinned and with shiny black hair, they had a foreign look about them. Gold earrings glinted in some of the men’s ears and brightly coloured scarves were tied loosely around their necks.
‘Who are those people?’ Lisette asked curiously.
‘Gypsies.’
‘Are they trespassing?’
‘No. They have permission to set up camp in the park. They always come at this time of year to help with the harvest.’
‘Are they harmful?’
‘As a rule, no. They’re hardworking people and always behave themselves. They abide by the law of the land while they are here. Their help is invaluable.’
They rode on. On reaching the barn where they had started from, Ross swung himself out of the saddle and went to assist Lisette, who was most reluctant to get down.
‘Thank you so much,’ she said, taking a moment to rub the spirited mare’s wet muzzle against her palm. ‘It was wonderful to be back on a horse again. I can’t tell you what it means to me. I had a horse—she was called Silva. She was so beautiful.’
Ross moved to stand behind her. ‘What happened to her?’
‘I left her with Messalina.’
Placing his hands on her waist and drawing her hair aside, Ross kissed her nape. ‘Well,’ he murmured, his breath warm on her flesh, ‘since you don’t want money or fancy jewels from me—and to present you with a horse would raise more than a few scandalised eyebrows—I shall have to give you a present you will approve of.’
She trembled, casting about feebly for her ability to resist him. ‘Please—please don’t do this. I really must be getting back....’
‘Why?’ he breathed, his whisper fraught with wicked seduction, taking her earlobe gently between his teeth. ‘It’s your day off, remember. You have all the time in the world—and so have I.’ He turned her to face him and drew her into his arms.
‘This is how we held on to each other that night, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she whispered.
‘I have a confession to make.’
‘What is it?’
‘I knew that night that if the river had risen, neither of us would have seen the dawn. We would have been washed away like so much flotsam.’
‘I know. I was so afraid. If I hadn’t had you to hold me...’
‘We shared a moment in our lives known only to us—binding us together like nothing else can.’
Keeping one arm securely around her waist, with his free hand he lightly traced his finger down her cheek to her chin. He gazed at her lips, at the soft rose-tinted curves he was beginning to know so well. Their shape was etched on his mind, their taste imprinted on his senses. ‘I came up here because I wanted to be alone with you, Lisette.’
Lisette’s entire body began to vibrate with a mixture of shock, desire and fear. It was one thing to be kissed by him in the middle of a raging river, but here, with absolute privacy and nothing to prevent him from taking all sorts of liberties, it was another matter entirely. Struggling desperately to ignore the sensual pull he was exerting on her, she drew a long, shaky breath.
‘Why should you think I wanted to be alone with you?’
His relentless gaze locked on hers. ‘Because I remember how it felt to hold you in my arms that night in the river.’
‘It was both dangerous and foolish.’
‘Foolish or not,’ he murmured, ‘I wanted you. We wanted each other. I want you now.’ Lisette made the mistake of looking at him, and his deep blue eyes captured hers against her will, holding them imprisoned. ‘Neither of us has anything to gain by continuing this pretence that what happened in India is over and forgotten. When I kissed you in Araminta’s room it proved that it wasn’t over. I’ve remembered you all this time, Lisette—and I know damn well you remembered me.’
Lisette wanted to deny it but couldn’t. ‘Yes—all right,’ she said shakily, ‘I never did forget you. How could I?’ she added defensively. ‘I would have drowned if it had not been for you.’
He smiled and his voice gentled to the timbre of rough velvet. ‘Yes, you would. Now, come here.’
‘Why?’ she whispered.
‘So that we can finish what we began that night.’
Lisette stared at him, fear mixed with violent excitement. ‘How?’
Lowering his head Ross lightly touched her lips with his own, feeling the heat, the compulsion, that surged in each of them. He held from pressing down on her lips, content for one timeless moment simply to touch and be touched, but not denying it. The beauty of the fragile moment stretched, their heightened awareness washing over them.
Curiously breathless, Lisette quivered. A small, insidious voice in her mind urged her to enjoy this time they were together, that she was entitled to some stolen passionate kisses if she wanted them. Another voice warned her not to break the rules of convention and leave him. But it was too late. She was already losing the battle to resist the desire that engulfed her whenever they were close. It was an effort to raise her heavy lids. At that moment her mind emptied itself of all thought. She was proud, but she was also young and sensual.
A blankness took over and with a soft sigh she relaxed against him, warm and trusting as he began to kiss her neck, teasing her senses into glorious awakening for him, her power to push him away fading fast. When he raised his head she offered him her mouth and he claimed her lips immediately, his arms going round her, and she revelled in his embrace despite her earlier determination not to let this happen. She closed her eyes tight to concentrate on the sensation. His mouth moved against hers, and it seemed natural to part her lips. Her mouth and body had suddenly become extra sensitive, so that she could feel the slightest touch.
At length he ended the kiss and held her fevered stare. At that moment they smiled into each other’s eyes like equals. When he took her hand she did not resist as he led her inside the barn where he removed his jacket and dragged her into his arms once more. His lips found hers, finding them eager, warm, parted and moist. She clung to him, her arms about his neck. His shirt was fine lawn. Through it she could feel the heat of him.
Their bodies fitted together, and her very softness tensed his muscles, her curves fit against him, their mouths fused, moving, caressing, their tongues touching. He put his hand to her head, entwining his fingers in her hair which fell in a shining black mane of living silk down her spine. She lifted her chin and his lips slipped beneath it and along her jaw. He was murmuring her name as he kissed her breasts through her gown, and then, eager to
view her beautiful body unfettered, his hands went to the tiny buttons of her bodice which slipped open and the ribbons of her chemise needed no more than a tug to release them. The bounty he’d captured, their softness filled his hand, and lowering his head he took the hardness of her rosy nipples in his mouth.
His lips burned and Lisette gasped with sheer pleasure. He pushed away her dress and slipped it from her shoulders. Her chemise soon followed, bearing her aching breast fully to the soft light, the warm air and his attentions. His hands moved with infinite care as he began to remove her clothes, pausing now and then to caress and to fondle, roaming above her stockings and venturing above her garters, meeting bare skin. When there was nothing else to remove, swinging her up into his arms he carried her across the barn and laid her down on a pile of hay, a lovely bed, soft and ready for them.
Lisette watched as he stripped himself of the covering of civilisation to reveal his beautiful male body, brown and hard and eager. That was the moment she was made to realise that there was no going back, no escaping what was to happen and at last she accepted it.
Joining her in the hay he gathered her to him, her breath feathering his cheek as her fingers lightly touched him, sliding, gliding over his flesh, cindering his will.
‘Show me,’ she breathed. He was all heat and shockingly hot hardness. ‘Show me what to do.’ She wanted to know all of it.
Her words vanquished the last of Ross’s resistance, the last remnant of caution. She was exuding something else besides the fragrance of flowers. It was as if some part of her, hitherto hidden or held back from others, was being offered to him. He wanted her with every fibre of his being, and she wanted him. Those demons that drove him urged him on, lending their talents to achieving victory in the most satisfying way. Reaching down he caressed her legs, his hand slowly moving up her inner thigh. Lisette gasped. All thoughts beyond this place, this moment, this man, fled. Forbidden pleasure turned to bliss as his lips kissed every part of her and his knowledgeable fingers explored those secret places known only to her.
They beguiled her until a delicious tension coiled so tightly inside her it broke loose with a vengeance. His face was a mass of concentration etched with passion as he intimately learned all about her, filling his male senses with her feminine secrets, driving her to a sensual excitement with practised ease. She melted, sinking into the soft hay, moaning, arching. In that moment, totally aroused, he could have taken her. She was his to do with as he willed. She was his instrument. Her body and, more alarmingly, her soul were fully open to him.
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