arranged precisely to prevent such carnal assignations.
Jonathan led her across to the desk and invited her to sit. There was only one chair. Once she was seated, he let go of her hand and leaned nonchalantly against the corner of the desk. ‘Our meeting cannot be at the rectory, clearly. Nor at the Manor, for there are too many servants with prying eyes and long noses. Did you imagine you could come there, alone, and be admitted by my butler?’
‘I…um…’ Beth fixed her gaze on the tooled leather of the notebook.
‘I have a better plan to propose. First, you must be conveyed from the rectory to our meeting place. You cannot be expected to go on foot, alone, in the dark. I suggest you slip out and wait behind the beech tree. At the appointed hour, I will meet you and bring you to our rendezvous. You have only to leave the rectory without being seen. And to return again before first light, of course. Do you think you can do that, Beth?’
‘I…I…’ This was no time for missishness. Jonathan was providing a practical plan that would allow the condition-Beth’s own condition-to be met. ‘Yes. Yes, I can do that.’
‘Beth.’ He reached for her hand again and held it in a strong clasp. ‘Are you sure you want to do this? It is not necessary, believe me. I really do want to marry you, and I require no such demonstration of your virtue beforehand. What’s more, I am sure you would be easier if our first lovemaking took place when we were already man and wife.’
‘No,’ she declared stoutly. ‘That cannot be the way of it, for the reasons I have given you. I will not risk bigamy. Nor your honour. Unless we fulfil my condition, there will be no marriage.’
He shook his head. ‘You are a stubborn woman, Beth Aubrey. Very well, it shall be as you wish. You may leave all the arrangements to me. Apart from one thing. You must be sure to be warmly clad and sensibly shod, for I will not be able to bring a carriage for you. That would attract too much attention, even in the dark. I shall come for you on horseback.’
She could see the sense in that. She nodded. ‘Do I need to ride, too?’
‘No. Saracen is more than capable of carrying us both.’
He was going to take her up before him and ride with her in his arms, close against his powerful body. The prospect sent a delicious frisson down her spine. Especially as it would be followed by… Oh dear. A virtuous lady should not be thinking of such things, but she could not help it. She wanted him so. ‘Will you bring me here?’ she asked quietly, trying not to dwell on the sensual images that were invading her brain. She glanced round the room. Unfortunately that added even more wanton thoughts, for the room had an air of wild abandon.
‘Yes. For it will be quite private.’ He grinned ruefully. ‘I will have it set to rights before you arrive. There will be nothing to offend your delicate sensibilities, I promise you.’
Nothing except what they were going to do in this private place!
Jonathan’s eyes were twinkling with mischief. Her face must have given her away, yet she could not bring herself to be angry with him this time. After all, the condition was hers. And he had found a way of making a reality of it. If he was teasing her a little in the process, she would not object. Better to respond in kind. ‘I should hope so, indeed, sir,’ she said brightly, reaching out to run a gloved finger along the window sill behind the books. She examined it closely, shaking her head in mock disgust. That window had not been dusted for some time. ‘A lady likes to meet her…um… A lady likes to go to an encounter with a gentleman knowing that all her needs will be met-warmth, comfort,
He chuckled. ‘I promise you that all your requirements will be met.’ He raised her hands to his lips, kissing each in turn. ‘All of them. Now, if you are content, ma’am, I suggest we continue our drive.’
How very matter of fact he was about such a momentous thing. Yet those kisses on her hands had not been matter of fact, or even necessary. She sensed they were his way of sealing their very special bargain.
She nodded. She would try to sound as normal as he had. ‘Yes. By all means. Let us view your marshes.’
He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and started for the door, stopping there for a last swift glance back at the room. ‘It will be transformed, I promise you, Beth. Meet me behind the beech tree at a quarter to midnight and you shall see for yourself.’
He was smiling down at her. It was not a leer, nor anything like. It was a smile of encouragement, the kind of smile Beth often used in the schoolroom when a child was facing a new and daunting task. ‘Courage, little one,’ he said softly. ‘A quarter to midnight.’
She met his gaze bravely. ‘A quarter to midnight? So be it.’
The big bay stopped by the entrance to the folly. The whole park was in darkness except for a single candle glowing through the slit window alongside the door. In the silence, a long shiver passed down Beth’s body. Jonathan must have felt it, for he pulled her a little more closely against his body. He made no comment. He had made clear from the outset that this condition of hers did not need to be met. He had repeated it as he pulled her up before him and settled her into his arms. She had only to say the word, at any stage, and he would return her to the rectory.
She did not say the word now. And he did not hector her. He was paying her the compliment of treating her like an equal, able to make her own decisions. If she changed her mind, he was trusting her to say so.
‘You are chilled,’ he murmured against her ear, his breath caressing her cheek. ‘You must go in to the warm.’ He dismounted and helped her down, holding her close against his side. Then he led her to the door and reached for the handle. ‘Go in. Make yourself comfortable. And warm. I will join you in a moment, once I have seen Saracen safely bestowed.’
Beth glanced back at the horse which stood motionless, waiting patiently. ‘He looks as though he would stand there all night.’ She was trying to inject a degree of lightness into her voice.
Jonathan chuckled. ‘Aye, he would. But I think he deserves a net of hay, and to be rid of the weight of the saddle on his back.’ He opened the door for Beth and pushed her gently inside, closing it behind her.
The room was transformed. A few hours earlier, there had been chaos and abandon. Now everything had been set to rights; it was warm and welcoming. Indeed, as a venue for an illicit tryst, it seemed a little tame. A good fire was burning in the hearth and the kettle had been swung close enough to sing, though not to boil. The fire, an oil lamp on the desk and that single candle by the door provided the only illumination, although several branches of new, unlit candles had been set around the room.
Beth risked one quick glance at the bed in the far corner. It had been piled high with cushions so that it looked more like a sofa than a bed. Almost unthreatening.
She shivered again. She must be cold. There was no other reason for it. She was not being forced. Everything that took place now would be by her own choice and her own will. Crossing to the fire, she stripped off her gloves to warm her hands. Ah, delicious. It was only then that she noticed a tea tray standing ready on a low stool by the hearth. Tea? After midnight? And at an assignation?
She began to laugh. If she had been afraid, even a very little afraid, she was so no longer. She was here, tonight, to be in the arms of the man she loved. It was a time for anticipation, not for fear.
In that moment she knew that, whatever the outcome of this encounter, she wanted it. More than anything. Even if they parted after this one night, she would cherish every second of it, for the rest of her life.
Jon gave Saracen one last pat and left him contentedly munching hay in the lean-to behind the folly. The big horse was well used to being left there at night, while Jon enjoyed the peace and isolation of the place.
Jon slowly made his way round to the front. He could see through the small window that Beth had not lit any of the candles inside. What was she doing? Would she now finally realise what a momentous step she had chosen to take and change her mind? He hoped so.
And yet he hoped not. The thought of making love to Beth Aubrey-the woman he fully intended to marry-was an arousing one. She was everything a sensible man could want in a wife: kind, generous, thoughtful, dedicated to doing good in the world. She was restful, and beautiful, too. She would grace his arm and his bed. God willing, they would make fine children together, children a man could be proud of. It would be a solid, reassuring union. As a woman, she could never be a trusted confidante, of course. Such was the reality of life. In public, they would have to be distant and formal, as their rank demanded, but in private they could be comfortable companions. It was more than he had dared to hope for in a wife.
Just at this moment, however, his body was telling him that a comfortable companion was not what he sought. His purpose now was to introduce Beth-his innocent Beth-to the joys and delights of lovemaking.
At the door he paused to look up at the night sky. No wonder it was so cold. There was not a single cloud. The great upturned bowl, the colour of deepest indigo, was spattered with the points of light he knew so well. This
