to a sitting position so he might assist her with her nighttime ablutions, then tucked her under the sheet and managed his own washing up with swift dispatch.
He wanted to argue with her, wanted to ravish her, wanted to keep her safe and never leave her side.
In what Ellen no doubt believed to be their final hours together, what Val wanted most, though, was to cherish his lady. He put aside his misgivings, doubts, schemes, and arguments, pulled her into his arms, and stroked his hand over her back until at last, sleep claimed them both.
When he next came to awareness, it was to hear the pretty, fluting morning carol of the birds—an incongruously optimistic sound given what the day held. The cottage was still dark, but dawn was just minutes away.
“You’re still here.” Ellen, sleepy, warm, and precious, burrowed into his embrace.
In the cocoon of drowsiness and trust enveloping them, it occurred to Val to lay his plans before the woman he loved, except she would not agree with the course he’d chosen. They’d argue, and then they’d part in anger.
They’d talked enough, at least for the present, so when Val settled his length over her, he offered her one heartfelt, “I love you,” before allowing his hands and mouth and body to express for him what words could only approximate.
“I love you, too,” Ellen replied, lifting her hips to receive him and closing her arms around him. “I always will.”
He joined them slowly, memorizing every sensation and sound: Ellen’s sighs; the way her body welcomed his into sweet, female heat; the feel of her foot gliding up his calf; the hot glow of pleasure simmering in his groin. He kissed her, grazed his mouth over her every feature, and held still while she returned his explorations. When he moved again, it was with less restraint and more desperation.
“Stay with me.”
Val heard Ellen’s words whispered against his shoulder and understood what she was asking—and what she wasn’t. Not, “Don’t ride away today,” which would have had him singing hallelujahs for the whole shire to hear, but rather, “Share bodily pleasure with me, intimately, completely, one last time.”
A gentleman with any sense wouldn’t. A smart man, out of consideration for the woman and for his own future might not. A wise man certainly couldn’t even entertain the notion, given the timing of the lady’s request.
But Val was her lover, and binding Ellen to him through any means was entirely consistent with his hopes, his dreams, and his heartfelt needs. Even that might not have allowed him to comply with her plea, but he knew her and took it upon himself to know her dreams and needs, as well.
When Ellen locked her ankles at the small of his back, when she was making an odd little keening sound against his shoulder, when slow, deep strokes into her body had Val’s entire being aflame with the pleasure of their joining, he allowed himself to stay with her. He deluged her with pleasure and submerged himself in the same flood, until passion was spent, and the time to part was inexorably upon them.
By the time he rose from the bed, the cottage was growing light, and the birds had gone quiet.
“Valentine?” Ellen struggled up against the pillows banking the headboard.
“Love?”
“Thank you—for everything. And I do love you.”
He offered her a smile, realizing that even in giving him the words, she was confirming her belief that they needed to part. He heard the farewell in her words, though he didn’t want to. The same farewell had been in her smile when he’d carried her over the threshold; the same farewell had been in her entire story when he’d held her on the piano bench in the assembly room, and in her loving just moments earlier.
So he’d leave her and let her—and Freddy—think the game was over. Lord Valentine Windham, musical artist and virtuoso without portfolio, had things to do if he was going to ensure his lady’s peace of mind and safety. If Ellen had to remain here, he’d trust friends, Almighty God, contingency plans, and the good luck he was long overdue to keep her safe until Val himself was once again at her side.
Sean took Zeke’s reins from Val’s hand, and Ellen watched as Val stuffed his riding gloves in his pocket. He was all brisk efficiency this morning, while Ellen felt dazed and aching in every corner of her soul.
“Walk with me, Ellen.” He linked his fingers through hers and turned her toward the home wood. “You will listen to me, for the sooner I can get moving, the less heat Zeke will have to deal with between here and Town.”
She nodded, heart breaking, while Val—man-fashion—focused on practicalities.
“You are to move to the house,” he began, sounding very stern indeed, as stern as a duke. “If Freddy is waiting to strike, you will be safer at the house. The staff is instructed not to admit him and to keep you safe at all times. I understand you will want to continue to pass along your rents to that weasel, and I can’t stop you, but I’ve hired gardeners for this property, and I expect you to put them to work.”
“I can’t stay in your house,” Ellen protested weakly. “I’ll be a kept woman.”
“Stay in your cottage,” Val shot back, “and you could be a dead woman. I’m leaving, Ellen.
She bit her lip but couldn’t deny his logic. “I’ll live at the house. I promise.”
“Good.” He nodded briskly and barreled onward. “You will also receive callers, including but not limited to Sir Dewey, and Axel and Abby Belmont. Abby will want a female friend on hand as her pregnancy progresses, and I think you owe her that much. I understand her sister-in-law will be up with Axel’s brother at the start of the Oxford term, and they will likely call on you.”
“I can receive them.” She didn’t know quite how, but for Valentine, she’d make the effort.
“And the vicar and his wife,” Val went on, “and Mrs. Bragdoll, if those louts of hers can ever be left unsupervised for a moment. And you will correspond with my sisters-in-law.” Ellen merely nodded, too overcome with the looming parting to do more than hear his words.
“Valentine?”
“Yes, love?” His green-eyed gaze held hers as he walked with her past a particular corner on the path through the woods.
“You’re really going?” Except it wasn’t a question.
“You’ve asked it of me,” Val reminded her gently, “and you are convinced Freddy will pester me literally to death if I don’t leave you to continue on with him as you did before, and you have forbidden me to call him out.”
She nodded and leaned into him, fell into him, because her knees threatened to buckle with the magnitude of the loss she was to endure.
Val embraced her, resting his cheek against her hair. “You’re a strong woman, Ellen Markham, and I have every faith in your ability to soldier on. I need to know as I trot out of your life that you will be fine and you will manage here without me. So”—he put a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze—“tell me some pretty lies, won’t you? You’ll be fine?”
Ellen blinked and obediently recited the requested untruth. “I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll be fine, as well.” Val smiled at her sadly. “And I’ll manage quite nicely on my own, as I always have. You?”
“Splendidly,” Ellen whimpered, closing her eyes as tears coursed hot and fast down her cheeks. “Oh,
“My dearest love.” Val kissed her wet cheeks. “You really must not take on so, for it tortures me to see it. This is what you want, or do I mistake you at this late hour?”
“You do not.” The sigh Ellen heaved as she stepped back should have moved the entire planet. She wanted
