“I love it. It's cozy and friendly. Just like a real home.”
She knew she'd said the right thing. His face broke into a smile of real warmth. “If you feel that, then all is well.”
“Wasn't it well before?”
He took her face between his hands. “Things will always be well between us, Dottie, I promise you.”
“You can't,” she whispered longingly. “Nobody can promise that.”
“I know that there's been much between us that has been difficult. So many quarrels, so many times when we couldn't be completely honest with each other, so much anger and mistrust. But those things have no place here, now. Let there be just us, and as long as we live, I'll never give you cause to regret that you married me.”
“I shall start regretting it soon if you don't kiss me.”
He paused just a moment, searching her face for something that he might or might not have found there, she couldn't tell. Then his mouth touched hers and all thought stopped.
Throughout their short engagement he'd maintained a correct distance, so that this was their first kiss since the day he'd burst in on her. That had been an assertion of power, and it was a million miles away from the gentle coaxing she felt in his lips now. She let her mouth fall open, inviting him, eager for the feel of his tongue, relishing its purposeful movements against the soft inside of her cheek, feeling her whole body turned to molten liquid.
His kisses changed, became more demanding and her blood leapt in response. She began to explore his mouth as he had explored hers. She was filled with urgency. With every inch of her she wanted what came next, and when she felt his fingers at the fastening of her dress she moved quickly to help him. When it had slipped to the floor he dropped his lips to the hollow of her neck, teasing her with such skill that she felt the beginnings of a slow burning fire deep inside her. Its soft intensity seemed to possess her so completely that she noticed only vaguely that he was removing the rest of her clothes.
He threw aside his shirt and drew her against him gently, so that the hair on his chest rasped slightly against her breasts. She put her arms around his neck in a gesture of abandon that seemed natural now.
She felt his hands at her waist, lifting her off her feet and raising her so that the distance in height between them was canceled, and it was she who looked down on him. She took his face between her hands and rained kisses on it, willing him not to delay any more. Her excitement was growing by the minute.
She didn't know when he'd moved to the bed, only that they were suddenly there and he was lowering her, tearing off the rest of his clothes, then lying beside her.
Her caressed her everywhere with his hands, his lips, until the sweet torment grew almost unbearable. She wanted to urge him on, yet at the same time she was content to leave this to him, because only an expert could bring those sensations into magical being.
She thought she knew her own body, but now she realized they'd been only casually acquainted. It had been something to be scrubbed down in the bath and toweled quickly to keep warm. Randolph was intent on revealing her to herself, a desirable woman, all the more desirable because of her response to his maleness.
There was a whole world between men and women that had been hidden from her. As she discovered it now she wondered how she'd lived so long in ignorance. Because he hadn't been there was the answer.
He slipped his knee between her legs, which parted for him easily so that he could move over her. The feel of him coming into her was almost shocking in its beauty and she drew a long breath, willing it to go on and on. This was the meaning of the obscure yearnings that had troubled her. All this time she'd wanted Randolph inside her, and nothing else would do. Now that she'd experienced him, she wondered how she'd endured the wait.
She moved back against him, claiming, releasing, instinctively in harmony. As if by a signal he tossed aside the last of restraint and drove into her vigorously and she cried out with the sharpness of her pleasure. And after that it grew stronger until it enveloped her completely and there was nothing left of her, except that she was reborn and found herself back in his arms, where she had always belonged.
Dottie awoke first and sat up gently so as not to disturb Randolph. That wasn't easy as his big body was sprawled all over the bed. In the night she'd discovered the true Randolph, not the disciplined person of the daylight, but some other man who could abandon himself heart and soul. He'd held nothing back, pleasing her and showing her how to please him, until they were both drained.
Just for now she wanted solitude, to come to terms with the new person she'd become, so she eased herself gently out of bed and looked around for her clothes. There was her dress, just as he'd removed it and tossed it away, too urgent in his desire for her to care if it was ruined. And it was ruined, she saw, noticing a small rent with delight. As she drew the dress against her body every silken movement felt like a caress, bringing memories flooding back. She smiled blissfully…
As he was still sleeping, she found her nightdress, pulled a robe over it and opened the French doors.
They led straight out into the garden, and now that it was daylight she saw for the first time how small a place this was. Not to her. After Wenford every where looked spacious, but to a man raised in palaces this was tiny. Yet it was his retreat, his refuge.
The house might have belonged to any solidly prosperous country gentleman. Outside was a small park with a pond on which ducks glided contentedly. She went down to the edge and at once they swam toward her, then away again, quacking with disgust because she was empty handed. She laughed and turned back to the house to find Randolph watching her. He opened his arms and she ran into them.
For a moment they held each other close, in silence. There was nothing to say. What had happened last night was too deep for words.
“I was afraid you wouldn't like this place,” he said after a long time.
“I love it. I want to stay here forever. If only we could.”
“If only.” He kissed her lightly. “Let me show you my home, and make it your home, too.”
Over breakfast he told her to wear casual clothes, which would once have been easy, but nothing in Dottie's wardrobe was really casual now. She compromised with a silk shirt and a pair of elegant tweed pants, but Randolph was in the authentic gear, shabby jeans and an old sweatshirt. After one look Dottie burst out laughing.
“I never wear anything else while I'm here,” he said.
Kellensee was a working farm, just large enough to be self-supporting. Randolph raised cattle and sheep, and although he had a manager it was clear he was closely involved.
“It belonged to my father,” he said as they wandered hand in hand through meadows filled with wild flowers and alive with butterflies. “He used to use it as a retreat for his less admissible hobbies. That's why he had his bed installed on the ground floor. He said it was easier to get to when you were legless. Of course, beer wasn't his only 'hobby.' There were various easygoing ladies, and he could let them in and out discreetly through the French windows.”
“What about your mother?”
“They were fond of each other, but they led their own lives. She didn't mind his friends, and he was discreet. I was only fourteen when she died, but I somehow knew the truth for a long time before that. What is it?” He'd seen a shadow come over her face.
She shook her head without answering and instead of pressing her he went on, “I'm afraid I was a disappointment to my father. His way of life shocked me a little. He thought I was very odd.”
“That's what royal marriages are like, though, aren't they?”
“Some of them. It wouldn't have suited me.”
“But,” she knew it was risky to pursue this but she didn't seem able to stop, “if you had to marry someone you didn't really want to, it would be forgivable, wouldn't it?”
“No it wouldn't,” he said, so forcefully that she jumped. “If you're hinting about lovers Dottie, let me warn you to forget it. I won't be a complaisant husband.”
“Don't be silly,” she said, coloring and trying to hide her pleasure. “Anyway, who says I was talking about me?”
“Didn't we agree to leave the baggage of the past behind? Don't do this Dottie, please.” He laid his fingertips across her mouth. “There are some subjects we should never mention.”
She longed to say, “What about Sophie?” but she couldn't get the words out in the face of his determination to silence her. And wasn't he right? If they could leave their awkward beginnings behind and start a new page, mightn't there be happiness that way?
Taking her hand, he led her deeper into the wood until they reached a place among the trees where the land sloped down then rose gently on the other side. The little valley was a mass of plants and small bushes, and on this
