The rest was lost as their mouths came together.
'There. I was not too long, was I?'
Bolitho turned from a window and watched her come from the foot of the stairs. Her dark hair was still loose but brushed back across her shoulders, and she had changed into a simple dark green gown.
He walked to meet her and held her at arm's length. 'You would be beautiful if you wore a seaman's smock! '
She turned in his arms. 'When you look at me like that I feel I am about to blush like a silly young girl.' She searched his face. 'How are you? Your eye…'
He kissed her cheek, his whole being aware of her closeness, the pressure of her body against his. All the doubts, all the misgivings were as if they had never been. Like shadows which die in the dawn. It was as if he had never been away Holding her, talking with her, seemed so natural that it excluded every other sound and feeling.
'It has improved, I think. Even in the African sun, I was rarely troubled.'
She tried to conceal her relief, so that he should not know how her mind had ached for him while he had been away.
Bolitho asked, 'And you? Has it been too bad?'
She laughed and tossed her hair on her shoulders. 'They do not think I am an ogre-in fact I believe they quite like me.'
She became serious again, putting her arm through his and guiding him through to the adjoining room.
'There was some bad news.' She met his gaze as he stopped and faced her. 'Your sister Nancy brought it a week ago. Your other sister has returned from India.'
Bolitho held her gently. 'Felicity?' He saw her nod and tried to picture his sister. She was two years his senior, and he had not laid eyes on her since he had been a lieutenant. She was married to an officer in the Eighty-First Foot, who had later been seconded to the service of the Hon. East India Company. It was strange, but he
could remember her husband better than he could Felicity. A pleasant, unassuming officer who had met her when his company had been stationed in Truro.
'Her husband is dead, Richard. So she is come to live in Cornwall again.'
Bolitho waited, knowing there was more. 'She has two sons. One in the regiment, the other a seaofficer in John Company's fleet, as I recall. How did he die?'
Catherine replied, 'His horse threw him.'
'Have you met Felicity yet?'
He saw her chin lift, then she said, 'She would not come with Nancy.' She added defiantly, 'Because of me.'
He put his arm about her, hating how it must have been, how unfair. He said, 'I would to God I had been here! '
She touched his face and smiled gently. 'I had to tell you. But I did not want to spoil anything. Not now. Not with you here again…'
'Nothing will. Nothing can.' He felt her tremble and held her more tightly. 'It is so good to be home again.'
'How was it out there, Richard?'
He tried to think clearly. All the faces. Commodore Warren, Captains Poland and Varian, Tyacke and all the others. In the halls of Admiralty it was as if nothing had really happened; or so it had felt.
He said slowly, 'We lost some men, but it could have been worse. I saw Admiral Godschale in London.' He smiled, remembering his new pomposity. 'Lord Godschale as he now is.'
She nodded. 'I know. It seems to pay to remain at home while others fight and dare.'
He gripped her hands in his. 'Nelson once wrote as much to me. I see that my tiger is still ready to leap out and protect me! '
She smiled despite her sudden bitterness. 'Always.'
Bolitho looked out at the flowers and rustling trees. 'I wanted to get away, to be here with you.' He felt her watching him but hurried on as if to rid himself of a burden. 'I left poor Allday to follow with our baggage. He complained, but I think he understands.'
'It was strange to see you without him, your shadow.'
Bolitho said, 'Homeward bound we laid off Madeira to take on fresh water and supplies. I bought you some lace there. When Allday arrives you will see for yourself if it is any use, or that I am less of a shopper than I am a sailor! ' He released her and picked up his coat from a chair where he had thrown it. 'I thought you might like this.' He took out a Portuguese fan of silver filigree and held it out to her. 'To replace the one you gave me and which I always have nearby.' He watched her pleasure, the expert way she flicked open its blades and held it to the sunlight.
'How beautiful! ' When she faced him again her expression had changed, her dark eyes very steady 'Is it so wrong of me, Richard?' She went to him and placed her head on his shoulder as if to hide her feelings. 'I cannot wait. I want you now. It is like a hunger, and I should be ashamed.' She looked at him, her faces inches from his. 'But I am not.'
Then she pirouetted round and walked away from him. 'The sun shines on lovers too, my darling Richard! ' He heard her laugh as she ran up the stairway and knew she had understood his uncertainty, his awkwardness when he had returned to her.
He found her by the window which faced the headland, her hands parting the curtains, so that she appeared to be held in the sunlight as if she were floating. She wore a long white robe with a plain gold cord around her throat, her hair hanging down her back. She neither moved nor turned as he came up behind her and after the briefest hesitation put his arms around her, pulling her against him. He stared at the same view and felt her gasp as his hands moved over her body, touching the nakedness of her limbs beneath the thin gown.
She whispered, 'Don't stop, for God's sake. Never cease to love me like this! ' She arched her back as he ran his hands up and over her breasts, then she turned and waited for him to find and release the gold cord so that the gown fell about her ankles.
He barely remembered the next frantic moments as his shirt and breeches went unseen to the floor.
She was on the bed, her lips moist while she watched him.
'I am so cruel, Richard! You must ache from a dozen horses, and yearn for a good meal and some of your own wine.'
Then he was beside her, his hand exploring her while she returned his kisses, her fingers around his neck, caressing the short hair where his queue had been.
She wanted to ask him why he had done away with it; to learn how long they might be together, so many, many things, but neither her will nor her body could prolong the moment another second.
It was brief; the wild need of each other driving away patience and bringing instead a culmination which made Catherine cry out as if she had no care for those who might hear and wonder.
Later, Bolitho opened his eyes and found himself still in her arms, their bodies entwined as if they had never moved. The room was full of silver light, brighter even than the sun; or so it seemed.
'How long…?'
She kissed him. 'Not long enough. I have been with you all the while. Did you know there is a pale patch on your neck where the skin was shaded by your hair?'
'Don't you like it, Kate?'
She pulled his head down to her breast. 'I will grow used to it. The man I love is unchanged! '
She stroked his hair. 'I must bring you something to eat. The whole house is abed. What must they think of us-of me?'
Bolitho propped himself on one elbow, watching the moonlight, knowing she was staring up at him, knowing that he wanted her again, and again.
'It is so warm.' As if to a secret signal they both left the bed and stood side by side at the window, feeling the soft warm air about their nakedness, the sense of peace as the sea boomed faraway on those hidden rocks which guarded the approaches like black sentinels.
He put his arm around her waist and felt her body respond to his touch. Then he looked up at the moon. It was full, like a great silver dish.
