Despite the constant trickle of water from the fountain, he heard the crunch of Eva’s footsteps on the gravel path as she passed through the willow tunnel. She appeared from between the fragrant pink rose bushes, her eyes bright, her smile dazzling.
“Well,” she began, taking in the picnic laid out on the blanket. Her gaze drifted to the enclosed garden and the borders teeming with vibrant summer flowers. “This is certainly more private than the park.”
“It’s my sanctuary.” A place where he came to relax and forget about the traumas of the day. “No one will disturb us out here. The topiary hedge prevents anyone from spying on us from the upper windows next door.”
“I trust we have Mrs Drysdale to thank for the picnic.”
“She liked to spoil me when I lived with my grandfather and has filled the basket with my favourite delicacies.” Although nothing could surpass the sweet taste of Eva Dunn’s lips. “And I’ve brought a book of lewd poems should you wish to hear the words of a genius.”
Eva arched a coy brow. “Are you attempting to seduce me, Mr Ashwood?”
He glanced at her plain grey dress, noted that her breasts were not as high or firm. “It seems you’re in the mind for more than a picnic, Miss Dunn. Either that, or I need to dismiss the maid.”
The temptress smoothed her hands from her breasts to her hips. “Stays are most inconvenient when frolicking in the garden.”
Minx!
He gestured to the beautiful blooms that gave off the sweetest scent. A scent nowhere near as intoxicating as the smell of her skin. “Do you know the name of those roses?”
“No, but I can see you’re dying to tell me.”
“Cuisse de Nymph or Thigh of Nymph when translated.” Indeed, the heads were soft and pink and pleasing to the eye.
“What a remarkable coincidence.”
“So remarkable it’s as if fate lured you here. What better place to continue my detailed examination?”
She glanced at the selection of food on the blanket—cured ham, chicken pie, almond cake and plum jam. “Are you hungry? Are we to eat before you make a thorough study of my thigh?”
“Hungry? I’ve been ravenous all day.” He was more than ready to slip his tongue into her sex and feast. “But there’s no rush. I like watching you eat. Observing you wrap your mouth around a juicy slice of pie might prove arousing.”
“Then let us indulge our appetites.” She glanced up at the cloudless sky. “There’s no reason why we cannot remain out here for hours.”
“No reason at all.” He took her hand and guided her to the blue plaid blanket. “Don’t be polite. Once you’ve tasted the pie, you’ll be begging Mrs Drysdale to bake another.”
She sat down, removed her boots and tucked her legs under her skirts. Noah offered her a choice of wine or lemonade.
“After the day we’ve had, wine will better settle my nerves.”
Noah examined the bottle and laughed. “Knowles saw fit to slip a bottle of my grandfather’s best burgundy into the basket.”
“Will your uncle not dismiss him for theft when he notices?”
“Hawkridge doesn’t waste time monitoring the wine cellar. And Gertrude is treated more like a scullery maid than the mistress of the house.”
Hawkridge feared that if he left Gertrude to manage the household affairs, she would rob him blind and disappear into the night. Noah wished his uncle would banish his wife to the country where she might find some semblance of peace.
Noah removed the cork from the bottle and set the wine aside. He shrugged out of his coat, hung it on the low branch of the apple tree and sat on the blanket.
“Your uncle controls those around him with an iron fist.” Eva took the china plate and held it in her lap. “You can feel the oppressive atmosphere the moment you enter the house.”
Noah cut a slice of pie and placed it on her plate. “Things were so different when my grandfather was alive. The staff were happy. When he died, I offered them all positions in Wigmore Street, but Knowles’ family have served every Lord Hawkridge for two hundred years.”
“And he didn’t want to be the one in a long, proud line to neglect his duty.”
“No. The rest of the staff are loyal to Knowles. They’re like a family.”
Eva accepted a fork. She cut the pie and slipped a small piece into her mouth. “Mmm. Delicious.” Her expression turned pensive as she swallowed the morsel. “I still don’t know what to do about Kathleen. I cannot trust her, but Howard is so sly, so manipulative, I feel somewhat to blame.”
Most people would cast the maid out without a thought, but Eva cared for those less blessed. Her inner beauty was the reason he found her so damn irresistible.
“No doubt your brother tempted Kathleen with dreams of a bright future.” To a maid, the prospect of becoming a gentleman’s mistress had some appeal. “I can give her a position at my estate in Gloucestershire if it eases your conscience.”
Eva put her hand to her chest. “You would do that? For me?”
“Without hesitation.”
For a heartbeat, maybe two, they stared into each other’s eyes.
“I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled. “Say yes and let that be the end of the matter.”
Again, she stared. “You have a way of solving all my problems. When I’m with you, I feel as if I could tackle the world.”
He put down his plate and captured her hand. “When I’m with you, I feel an inner peace I never thought possible.”
“It proves the point that beyond dark storm clouds the sun is still shining. Had Howard not behaved so abominably, I would not have come to Hart Street. I wouldn’t have met you.”
The thought left an empty void in his chest. “I’d like to think we would have met somewhere. At my publisher’s office, perhaps. Oh, on the subject of Mr Lydford, he sent word he will meet with you on Friday.”
“Friday?” Her look of delight
