Chapter Eleven
When Beth opened her eyes, she was alone on the bed. How long had she been asleep? She had no idea. But she had clearly been dead to the world for some time, since her naked body was now warmly wrapped in the padded velvet bedcover. The crackle of a branch drew her eyes to the hearth. The fire had been made up and was burning fiercely. Where the folly room had been comfortably warm before, it was now becoming rather too hot.
‘Jonathan?’ He must be here somewhere.
The only response came from the fire, spitting like a snake as it consumed the dry logs. Beth began to shiver uncontrollably, as if she had been drenched in icy water. She was alone. Jon had taken his pleasure. And then he had left her.
That single thought was enough. She refused to lie helpless like a victim. She was her own mistress, and she would take responsibility for everything she had done. Even this. The slight ache in her belly was real enough, a reminder of her own complicity. She would not regret it. After such bliss, she could not. But her reputation must not be lost along with her virginity. She must be safely back at the rectory before first light.
The prospect of making her way across the expanse of Fratcombe Manor park in the dark was daunting. She would have only starlight to see by, for there was no moon. Still, it could have been worse. If the sky had been clouded over, there would have been no light at all.
She sat up, struggling to free herself from the velvet folds. She must find her clothes. Thank goodness she had had the sense to dress warmly.
As Jon had warned her to do. Had it been his intention, from the first, to leave her to walk back to the village alone? Was he so callous, so calculating?
‘Beth.’ A draught of freezing air swept across the room, turning the flames bright orange.
‘I did not think you would wake so soon.’ He was beside her on the bed, pulling her into his arms, caressing her hair.
Beth tried again to free herself from the bedcover. She was desperate to return his embrace, to prove to him- and to herself-that she trusted him completely. ‘Oh, bother, I-’ She growled in frustration.
Jon responded by tightening the covers around her, pulling her even closer, and kissing her very thoroughly. Yet he was laughing at the same time. ‘You must not get cold, my dear,’ he murmured as he broke the kiss.
‘But you-’ It was only then that Beth saw he was fully clad. He was even wearing those confounded boots!
She turned her gaze to the fire. ‘Is it time to leave?’ she asked quietly. She could feel the colour rising on her neck. The thought of returning to the rectory, even with Jon’s careful help, was reminding her of just how far she had strayed from the path of propriety.
‘No, not yet. There is something I wish to show you first.’
Beth whipped round to look at him. He looked more relaxed, more at ease, than she had ever seen him. The fine lines on his face seemed to have been smoothed away and there was a slight curve about his mouth…Not a smile, exactly, but a sign that he was content, at peace with his world. Was she, Beth, responsible for that?
He stood up and, in a single powerful movement, lifted her into his arms. Wrapped as she was, she could not resist. In truth, she had no desire to. She did try to free her arms, for she needed to touch him. Very much.
‘Don’t fight me, Beth. It is too cold for that.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead and started for the door.
Beth was too astonished to say a word. Jon shouldered the door open and carried her out into the night. He had been right about the cold. Under the cloudless sky, the air was almost freezing. If Beth had not been so warmly held, she would have shivered. As it was, she sank deeper into Jon’s arms. She did not care where he was taking her. It was glorious simply to be held so.
He carried her round to the back of the folly. She heard noises, scuffling movements on the ground, and whiffling. Saracen, of course. He must be stabled somewhere near. To Beth’s surprise, Jon ignored the horse and started to climb some stairs. She had not realised they existed.
‘Where are you taking me?’
‘On to the roof.’
‘Why?’
They had reached the top of the stairs. Jon strode across to the middle of the roof and planted his feet firmly so that he could adjust Beth’s position in his arms. ‘Look up, and you will see.’
She leant her head back on to his shoulder. ‘Oh. Oh, how beautiful it is.’ The sky was not black, as she had expected. It was a deep rich colour, somewhere between darkest blue and purple. And the stars were strewn across it like daisies in a meadow-except that these daisies were twinkling and they would never fade and die, as mere flowers did.
‘Have you never gazed at the stars before, Beth?’
‘N…not like this.’
He laughed, low in his throat, and tightened his grip. ‘It is a little unusual, I admit. But when we are married, we can do it again. Only if you wish it, of course,’ he added, sounding apologetic.
‘Is that why you come here? To look at the stars?’
‘Mmm. In the wilds of Spain, the night sky always seemed immense, and magical. So I had the folly refurbished as an observatory. I come here at night. And not for the nefarious purposes you suspected yesterday, Miss Prim.’ His white teeth flashed. He was trying to make his grin look like a leer, but it was not working. He was laughing too much.
‘Fie on you, sir! To call me “Miss Prim” when I am here in your arms and we have-’ She stopped. Even with their new-found closeness, she could not quite say the words.
Jon’s reply was to carry her over to one corner of the roof where he sat down on a wooden bench and settled Beth on his lap. ‘From here, you may see most of the park, as well as the stars.’ He gestured towards a fine telescope and a small stool behind it.
Beth snuggled against him. Was this what their life together would be? He had talked of companionship, but she had never imagined it could be so close, so warm, so trusting. She was right to love this man, even if he would never be able to love her in return.
The back of her head was on his shoulder. His arm was around her, holding her snugly, safely against his body. Then he rested his cheek against her hair so that she could feel his breath on her skin. She closed her eyes to savour the moment. She wanted to remember this for ever.
‘I’m afraid that gnarled old tree rather spoils the panorama.’
His prosaic comment shattered Beth’s reverie. She opened her eyes and followed his pointing finger. ‘You could always cut it down, if it offends your notion of perfection,’ she said, a little sharply.
‘Oh, no, I could never do that. It is the only tree on the whole estate with mistletoe growing on it. I never saw a single sprig of it in Spain.’
‘Mistletoe?’ Beth suddenly felt very, very cold. It made no sense. She was as warmly wrapped as before, and just as secure in Jon’s arms.
‘It is my childish fancy, I fear, but I know you will not betray my weakness. An earl is not supposed to feel affection for such things. But, when I was a little boy, mistletoe seemed to be the symbol of Christmas. It was a truly happy time for all of us, especially for Henry and me, as we were so close in age. We played such games together! We- Sadly, he died, and I became the heir. Nothing was quite the same afterwards. George and I-’
Jon’s bleak grimace was telling. In her sudden concern for him, Beth pushed the image of mistletoe from her mind.
‘He is a great deal younger than me and we…we have very little in common,’ Jon said in a low voice. ‘You will meet him soon, of course.’
Jon’s brother was bound to attend the wedding, however quickly it took place. ‘Shall you invite him here?’ She could not bring herself to mention the wedding itself. If she dared to assume it was going ahead, some demon might appear and snatch it from her fingers. ‘No!’
Beth could not believe how much anger there was in that single word. Did Jon have reason to hate his
