She put out a hand. The bed was still warm and there was an indentation where Cory’s body had lain. She rolled over and pressed her face to the pillow. It smelled of him and her heart filled with love and a curious kind of pride. Her body ached faintly but felt replete and her mind drowsy. She knew that soon she would have to start thinking again, but for now she was content to drift.
She wondered where Cory had gone. The answer came almost immediately. There was a sound from below and Rachel tensed, reality flooding back. Had the servants returned? Or her parents? She squinted at the clock. Eight o’clock! They should all have returned long since.
Then she heard whistling and realised that Cory was down in the kitchen. She relaxed back against the covers. He was fetching food. He really was a hero.
Rachel got up and went across the window. She paused for a moment, staring out into the dark in amazement. The landscape was awash, the whole of Midwinter Royal land cut off like an island. The river had flooded the burial ground and only the tops of the barrows were visible. It would take a boat to reach them now.
There was a step in the doorway behind her.
‘Very nice,’ Cory said, and Rachel realised with a sudden surprise that she was still naked. She did not appear to have been paying a great deal of attention to her clothes recently, for they were scattered across the floor. She whisked into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.
‘Please do not do that on my account,’ Cory said pleasantly. ‘You looked quite delightful as you were.’
He was wearing Rachel’s dressing robe and was carrying a tray laden with food, which he placed on the end of the bed. He took the candle from it and put it on the night stand. Suddenly the room seemed smaller and more intimate, a haven against the outside world once again.
‘I see that we are cut off,’ Rachel said.
Cory nodded. ‘The river has burst its banks and surrounded the house.’
‘So no one can get in?’
Cory’s silver gaze was quizzical on her. ‘No.’
‘And you cannot get out?’
‘I suppose not.’
‘Good,’ Rachel said.
Cory’s gaze turned thoughtful. ‘Rachel…’ he began.
Rachel’s heart gave a lurch. She held up a hand.
‘Cory, please do not say anything. Not yet. I do not want to spoil anything.’
Cory sighed. ‘Rachel, we shall have to talk soon…’
‘Soon, yes,’ Rachel said. ‘But not now. This is
She reached for the food and sank her teeth into the bread. It tasted good. Cory sighed again. ‘I do not like the sound of that,’ he said.
Rachel reached for the cheese. The sheet slipped a little. She watched Cory’s gaze go to her breasts and felt a little shiver go through her. Her mouth dried and suddenly she did not feel so hungry any more. Cory was visibly holding himself in check and the sight of his struggle for control was immensely exciting. She brushed the crumbs off the sheet, aware that he was watching her every move.
‘Perhaps I should put some clothes on,’ she said.
‘That would be pointless,’ Cory said, ‘since I would only have to remove them again.’
He lifted the heavy fall of her hair off her shoulder and started to kiss the back of her neck. Rachel almost choked on the bread as shivers of delightful pleasure ran along her skin. His hands came round to cup her breasts and the sheet fell to her waist. Rachel sighed, a long, wavering sigh of surrender. There was no escaping the feeling that this was where she belonged, here in the circle of his arms, safe, protected and true. She watched as Cory carefully moved the tray off the bed before discarding his robe and coming back to settle his naked body against hers. In the candlelight he was as glorious as she remembered from the time by the river. His skin was a lucent gold, firm, hard and well muscled. She rubbed her lips exploratively against the paler soft skin by his collarbone and felt the ripple of his stomach muscles against her spread fingers. He turned his head and claimed her lips in a deep and demanding kiss.
‘Don’t move,’ he ordered.
Rachel lay with her eyes wide open and her nerves tightened to fever pitch as he slid down her trembling body and began kissing her all over, the arch of her foot, the soft fold behind her knee, the outer curve of her thigh. Her breathing came more rapidly still as he shifted his body to trail kisses along the soft skin of her inner thigh. She arched in frustration as he pressed his mouth in sweet, hot kisses against her belly, moving up to caress her swelling breasts.
Rachel turned her head languorously on the pillow. A huge flash of lightning illuminated the room, dimming the candles. By its fierce light she could see Cory poised over her, his face dark with emotion. He cupped her breast and flicked the nipple lightly with his tongue. The thunder made the house shudder. Rachel’s senses reeled. She was coming quite undone. All her inhibitions and reserve and restraints were being swept away, destroyed, shattered under the onslaught of Cory’s love for her.
Cory smiled down into her eyes and bent to kiss her passionately, sliding inside her with exquisite gentleness. Rachel reached blindly for him, squirming restlessly and begging for release from the delicious friction of his body against hers. As the sensations grew she felt herself arch like a bow and fall quickly, violently into utter bliss, her eyes opening wide in ecstasy and disbelief, her fingers clutching at his shoulders. The white lightning burned behind her eyes and the thunder crashed in her ears and the pleasure consumed them both, sweeping them up and binding them one to the other, merging past and present, the shadow of their childhood selves and the people they had become.
Later, much later, they lay in each other’s arms in the dark and Rachel raised a subject that had been at the back of her mind.
‘Did you see them?’ she asked.
‘The casks of brandy?’ Cory said with a smile. ‘Yes, I saw.’ He turned her slightly so that her body fitted even more snugly into the curve of his shoulder.
‘That was what Maskelyne was trying to tell us with his maps and his plans,’ Rachel said with a muffled laugh. ‘It was nothing to do with the treasure or even to do with the spy. It was about a lost cache of smuggled brandy!’
‘Jeffrey always did like a drink,’ Cory said, smoothing the hair away from her face so that he could trace the line of her cheek. ‘And some people would consider a lost cache of brandy treasure indeed.’
Rachel burrowed closer to Cory’s warmth.
‘So now that you know that it is there,’ she said, ‘will you go to dig for it?’
She felt Cory move slightly and settle more comfortably, his body wrapped around hers.
‘I doubt it. The entire burial site is flooded and when the waters subside the damage will be tremendous.’
‘And what about the real treasure?’ Rachel asked.
In the dark she felt Cory’s cheek rub against hers as he smiled. ‘You know I am superstitious. The Midwinter Treasure does not wish to be found. If-and when-it comes to light, it will find its own way.’
Rachel turned her head and kissed his bare shoulder. ‘I admire you for that,’ she said softly. ‘So many are blinded by greed and will take all they can.’
‘I have all that I want here in my arms,’ Cory said. He kissed her. ‘Go to sleep, Rachel, for in the morning we must talk.’
In the morning, everything was different. This time Rachel woke to grey skies and rain that had lost its fierceness but still fell in miserable lines from the dark sky. Cory had gone to find some of Sir Arthur’s clothes for there was no possible way that his own could ever be made respectable again. Rachel felt in much the same case. She dressed and tidied her room with mechanical movements, part of her shocked at what had happened the night before, part of her accepting. What had happened with Cory had been the most exquisite, the most deep and blissful experience of her life and she would never forget it. She loved him so much. Yet fundamentally she was very afraid that nothing had changed.
‘And now we talk,’ Cory said, when he joined her in the drawing room. He gestured to the sofa beside her. ‘May I?’
‘Of course.’ Rachel shifted slightly to give him space to sit down. It felt odd, almost familiar and somehow
