‘You’re shameless,’ she said, peeling off her jumper and hurling it at me.
I swallowed as I gazed at her breasts, barely contained by a wispy black lace bra. ‘Takes one to know one.’
She undid the belt of her trousers. ‘Are you going to stand there all day?’
‘I can think of worse things.’
The trousers came off and landed in my arms. I swallowed again. She was wearing a pair of microscopic black lace briefs, cut high at the sides, making her legs look even longer …
‘You’ll have to show me how the shower works,’ she said, climbing the stairs two at a time.
And from the back, she looked incredible … In a matter of seconds, I was barely a step behind her. ‘I think you already know exactly how to handle my equipment, Emma Woodhouse.’
By the time we reached my bathroom, we’d stripped off completely. I dropped our clothes in a sodden heap on the floor, got into the shower to turn on the water, checked there was plenty of soap and gel, and got out again. I fetched fresh towels out of the airing cupboard and arranged them on the heated rail.
‘Go in, the water’s just right.’
She hesitated. ‘Aren’t you coming in with me?’
‘Not yet,’ I said, with a smile. ‘I want to enjoy the view.’
She blushed and stepped into the shower. The doors were made of transparent glass and Mrs Burn kept them beautifully clean, bless her. As Emma twisted this way and that, revelling in the feel of hot water on her body, I leaned against the wall and studied her, every curve, every plane. I thought back to Ashridge, how I’d watched her get dressed while I pretended to be asleep. I’d so wanted to do then what I was about to do now. And yes, we’d made love at Forbury Manor, but my recollections of that night were hazy, thanks to the sloe gin, and scarred by the events of the following morning. This afternoon, I would treasure every moment.
This afternoon was now. Why wait any longer? I opened the door of the shower and got in. Instantly, her mouth met mine and it was like kissing in the rain all over again. Only this time it wasn’t just lips on lips, it was skin on skin, silk against steel. As we kissed she touched me, her hands slow and skilled and slick with gel, stretching my self-control to the very limit. And I almost took her there and then …
‘Come to bed.’ My voice was thick with desire, warm with love.
We moved as one, stepping out of the shower and wrapping each other in the towels. It took three kisses to get dried, two to reach the bed and one to slide deep inside her. I held myself still as stone, watching her, wanting her, but waiting … And then I drove forward with strong rapid strokes, as she arched under me and cried out my name.
My name.
Over and over and over again.
~~EMMA~~
I wondered if it was all a dream. Here I was, in Mark’s bedroom at Donwell, lying naked in his vast bed. In the fading light of a winter’s afternoon, I recognised the large chest of drawers with the framed photos. The little bottle of Eau Pour Homme was missing, no doubt packed away in his luggage. But the scent of Armani lingered, on the pillows under my head and on the skin of the man who had just taken me back to the most unbelievable place.
Time crept by, cloaking the room in darkness, stealing all sense of substance, except for the sound of his breathing and the touch of his hand in mine.
‘Mark.’
‘Mmm?’
‘Is this real?’
I heard him ease himself up and my lips parted in anticipation of his kiss. I wasn’t disappointed.
His voice caressed my ear. ‘Was that real?’ He trailed the tip of his tongue down my neck to my breast, took my nipple between his lips, tugged it gently, then released it. ‘And that?’ He nudged my thighs apart with his knee and guided himself into me, right up to the hilt. ‘And this?’
I laughed softly. ‘You want to do it again?’
‘Yes, Emma. Just to prove it’s real.’
~~MARK~~
I missed it. I missed that first moment when I’d stir from the depths of sleep in my own bed and know that these were her limbs entwined with mine; the moment when I’d take her in my arms and kiss her awake; the moment when I’d whisper, ‘I love you, Emma’.
Instead, I was roused by the sudden glare of the bedroom lights and my father’s voice, sharp with surprise.
‘Mark! What the – ?’ He retreated onto the landing and called down the stairs, ‘Saffron, no need to phone the police, it’s only Mark.’ He marched back into my room. ‘We found the alarm off and the utility window open and thought we’d been burgled! Why didn’t you let us know you’d come back? What happened – didn’t you get to the airport on time? What about – ’ He stopped in mid-sentence as he saw Emma snuggled up against me. ‘Is that who I think it is?’
I couldn’t help a complacent grin. ‘Yes.’
‘You mean you’ve … ’ – he winced – ‘with Emma?’
I nodded. ‘Get real, Father, we’re consenting adults.’
He turned away. ‘Come down to the study, I need to talk to you on your own.’
I waited until he’d gone, then shook Emma gently by the shoulder. ‘Wake up, beautiful.’
She opened her eyes, blinked, then closed them again. ‘Too bright,’ she said sleepily.
‘I know. Believe me, this isn’t the way I’d have preferred to wake you up. Listen, Father and Saffron are back, I’m just going downstairs for a quick word.’ I leaned over and cupped her breast, teasing her nipple with my thumb.
Her lips curved in a smile. ‘Keep doing that and you won’t make it out of this room, sunshine.’
I laughed. ‘Is that a promise?’
She opened her eyes and gazed into mine. ‘When are you going back to India?’
‘You haven’t answered my question.’
‘That’s because you need to answer mine first. If you’re going to India soon,’ – she reached up and kissed me full on the mouth – ‘I want to make every minute count. If not, we’ve got all the time in the world.’
I let out a long breath. ‘I don’t know, I need to talk to Father.’
It took no more than a few minutes to pull on some clothes and go to the study. Father was pacing the floor, taking long gulps from a glass of whisky. He may not have been the archetypal headmaster, but I certainly felt like a naughty schoolboy.
‘Shut the door,’ he said tersely. As soon as I’d done so, he came up to me and wagged his finger in my face. ‘For Christ’s sake, I hope you know what you’re doing. She’s barely more than a child.’
‘She’s twenty-three, she’s a grown woman by most people’s standards.’
‘But you’re thirty-five, it’s – it’s indecent.’
I crossed to the drinks cabinet and poured myself a whisky. ‘I’d have agreed with you when she was a teenager. But now she’s in her twenties it’s not at all indecent – in my mind, at least. And it certainly doesn’t seem to bother her.’ I sipped the amber liquid thoughtfully. ‘Remind me, Saffron’s how many years younger than you? Ten, is it? Or eleven?’
He clicked his tongue. ‘That’s different, we’re both much older and it’s a marriage, we’ve made a commitment to each other. For all I know, you’ve had your bit of fun at Emma’s expense and you’re off to India on the first plane tomorrow.’
I raised my eyebrows. ‘Is that your only objection, that I’m not serious about her?’
He walked over to his desk and fiddled with an engraved gold paperweight, my mother’s last gift to him. After a moment, he turned to me with a rueful smile. ‘Your mother and I had it all planned out, years ago. Age-wise, we paired you off with Izzy – ’
‘God forbid.’
‘And John with Emma. Not that we expected any of it to happen, it was just a nice little “what if?” scenario.’ He gave a wistful sigh. ‘As time went on, and John married Izzy, I realised age wasn’t the key factor at all. You and Emma were a far better match for each other, same sense of humour, same intellectual ability and so o
n. But it was still a pipe dream, I never thought for one moment – ’ He stopped and frowned. ‘I’ve watched Emma grow up, she’s like my own daughter. I don’t want to see her get hurt.’
‘What makes you think she’s going to get hurt?’ I said abruptly.
‘You’re going back to India, aren’t you?’
Suddenly, it was all crystal clear. ‘Not without her, I’m not going anywhere without her.’
‘But she can’t just leave Henry like that, or her job at Highbury Foods.’
‘No, she can’t. At least, not for long.’ I hesitated. ‘I want to make a go of things with her, spend lots of time together over the next few weeks, and then – who knows? So, if I sort out my replacement in India, how would you feel about me coming back here?’
His face brightened. ‘Bloody brilliant! I wasn’t going to tell you just yet, but Henry wants to discuss a possible merger between Highbury Foods and Donwell Organics.’
My eyes narrowed. ‘A merger? But we’re like chalk and cheese.’
‘I know, but needs must, it’s a cut-throat world out there. It’ll mean a lot of work, but it’s manageable if you’re here as opposed to in India. And if you’re thinking of settling down,’ he added, with a meaningful look, ‘I couldn’t wish for a better daughter-in-law than Emma.’
~~EMMA~~
I’d just had a shower and was drying myself in the bathroom, when Mark came back. He stood in the doorway, folded his arms and tried to look grumpy.
‘I see you’ve not waited for me this time – had enough of me already?’
‘Mark Knightley,’ I said sternly, ‘don’t push your luck.’ Then I paused. ‘So when are you going back to Mumbai?’
‘As soon as you can tear yourself away from Highbury to come with me.’ He gave me a long serious look. ‘It won’t be a long trip, I just need to sort a few things out before I come back here for good.’
I smiled, a long slow smile of relief. ‘Actually, I wondered if you wanted to come over to my place this evening. We could tell Dad about, um, everything, and then you could maybe, um, stay the night.’
‘Stay the night? I dread to think what Henry will say about that. I mean, are people allowed to have sex at Hartfield? I’m pretty sure John isn’t.’
I let the towel drop to the floor and watched with amusement as his gaze switched immediately from my face to my breasts. ‘You’re so presumptuous, who said anything about sex? I’ll be surprised if Dad allows you to sleep in the house, especially when there’s a perfectly good shed outside.’
He slipped his hands under my hips, pulled me to him and kissed me long and hard. Then he let me go and gave a wicked grin. ‘He’ll soon change his mind, I’ll tell him dreadful stories about the Highbury Humper preying on innocent young women in their own homes.’
‘Ah-ha, that rules me out, I’m not exactly innocent.’
‘But Henry thinks you are, so it may be worth a try.’ He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. ‘Look, if you want to see your father at all, you’d better get dressed at once. Otherwise I’ll have to take you back to bed and we’ll end up spending the night here instead.’
I glanced at the pile of wet clothes still lying in the corner. ‘Hang on, what am I going to wear?’
He frowned. ‘I suppose I could ask Saffron if she’s got anything.’
‘Don’t you dare, she’d take great delight in pointing out she’s at least three sizes smaller than me.’
‘What about something of mine? Remember when you took a fancy to that Aran sweater I got one Christmas? It came down to your knees and you wore it as a dress for a while, I’ve still got it in my wardrobe somewhere.’
‘I was only about ten at the time,’ I said, laughing. ‘Somehow I think it’ll come a lot higher than my knees now.’
He pretended to look hurt. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you wore it on its own, I’ve got some old tracksuit bottoms for you as well.’
He was as good as his word; which meant that going downstairs to see George and Saffron was a double ordeal. I had to face not only the embarrassment of them knowing I’d just slept with Mark, but also Saffron’s undisguised horror at my outfit.
‘Ah, here she is, here’s the reason Mark’s not in India,’ George said heartily, when we found them in the kitchen. ‘I should be cross with you both, but I can’t be.’
‘Can I have the car keys?’ Mark said. ‘I need to take Emma home.’
Saffron stared at me. ‘Surely you’re not going outside dressed like that, darling?’
‘It’s dark and we’re in the middle of the country, no one will see,’ I said breezily. ‘My own clothes are still wet.’
‘I’d lend you something, but I’m afraid I’m about three sizes smaller than you.’ She gave a pitying little laugh.
George winked at me. ‘I think you look very fetching, Emma. Here you are, Mark.’
Mark took the keys. ‘Thanks. I’ll be back first thing in the morning, before you set off for work.’
George and Saffron exchanged glances, then George said, ‘So you’re planning to spend the night there? Let’s hope Henry’s happy about you two, otherwise – ’
‘I know, I know.’ Mark’s voice was uncharacteristically edgy and my heart sank. Tonight, more than ever, I was relying on him to be as he’d always been with my father, kind yet firm. Anything else would spell disaster, I was sure.
We drove to Hartfield in silence, my hand resting lightly on his knee. His warm fingers caressed mine, except when he needed both hands for driving. I spent the whole time wondering how Dad would react and panicking more and more with every minute that passed.
Dad must have been listening for the car, because he came to the door as soon as we parked.
‘Inside quickly, the pair of you, before you catch a chill,’ he said anxiously. ‘I’ve got the fire going in the dining room and there’s whisky if you’d like it, Mark. You know Emma and I don’t care for it, we only keep some for medicinal purposes and, of course, good friends like you.’
Poor Dad. If he’d known what his good friend had been up to, he’d have left him outside to freeze.
Needless to say, in Mark’s Aran sweater I found the heat in the dining room unbearable. I dashed upstairs to change into a T-shirt as quickly as I could; when I returned, Mark had a tumbler of whisky in his hand and Dad was holding forth about Flynn.
‘Poor Jane! I don’t see how it’ll last, she barely knows him, they only met last October.’
Mark cleared his throat. ‘So, for a relationship between a man and a woman to be successful, you think they need to have known each other a long time.’
I gave a strained laugh as I sat down between them. ‘Like Izzy and John, or even Mark and I – ’ But I got no further.
‘Poor Isabella,’ Dad said, with a sigh. ‘She must have known what she was letting herself in for – no offence, Mark, but your brother is rather difficult – and still she went ahead.’ He paused. ‘Anyway, on to other things. Emma doesn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from her walk in the rain, I’m looking forward to hearing how you did it, Mark.’
Mark nearly choked on his whisky. ‘Ah, Henry, I’m afraid my lips are sealed. It’s a secret remedy that’s been in the Knightley family for years. But back to relationships between men and women, Emma and I – ’
‘Secret family remedies?’ Dad frowned. ‘I didn’t know you had any.’
‘That’s because they’re secret,’ Mark said patiently. ‘As I was saying, Emma and I have known each other for years. Now – well, we’ve discovered we love each other. Very very much.’ He smiled across at me and I smiled back.
Dad raised his eyebrows. ‘Of course you do, you’ve always said Emma’s like your little sister.’
Mark flushed and bit his lip. ‘Just forget what I’ve said in the past. Believe me, that’s not how I feel about her now.’
‘We want to be with each other all the time,’ I put in. ‘Every hour of every day – and night.’
> ‘Good gracious, I don’t see any need for that nonsense,’ Dad said. ‘Far better to go on as you were. As Woodrow Wilson once said, if you want to make enemies, try to change something.’
Mark and I looked at each other in despair. Then Mark leaned forward and said in a grave voice, ‘I was hoping I wouldn’t have to worry you with this, Henry, but there’ve been some disturbing rumours recently. Do you remember Emma’s little joke about the Highbury Humper? Well, it seems that he actually exists and he may be on the prowl this very minute … ’
~~MARK~~
It was early spring before I could arrange a day at Ashridge for Emma and me. Until then, I’d been too busy progressing the merger between our companies and adjusting to life at Hartfield, which was enough to try the patience of a saint. And I certainly wasn’t that.
I’d also taken Emma to India, as promised. I could have done at the Taj Mahal what I wanted to do at Ashridge; but we’d gone there with Rob and Harriet, which wasn’t ideal. In any case, our time in India was rushed because I had to focus on getting Rob up to speed as my replacement. He and Harriet had fallen in love with the place and he’d been delighted to accept my offer of a job there. His parents had been less than delighted, but I’d managed to placate them by finding someone with the necessary experience to take over at Abbey Mill Haulage.
Now, as we approached Ashridge, the sun broke through the clouds and filtered between the green-tipped trees. It reminded me of our visit last autumn, except that this time I was filled with anticipation of a much more pleasurable kind. We parked the car and strolled hand in hand to the front entrance. Just before we reached it, I stopped.
‘Fancy a walk up there?’ I said, pointing to the wide cutting in the trees on our left.
She looked along the grassy path and saw, on the horizon, a pale slender column tapering to a small cross. She smiled at me. ‘Why not?’
The Importance of Being Emma Page 33