Seduced by Love

by Louise Allen

  ‘Oh, good,’ she said. ‘I would have hated to be the reason you felt you had to give up the army.’ There it was again, that thread of tension in her voice as though she was feeling something quite opposite to what she was saying.

  He did not want to think about it, let alone talk about it, not yet. Blake leaned forward to tweak the ribbons securing Emily’s hat. ‘The sun is not strong enough to burn your nose and this thing is devilishly in the way.’

  ‘What of?’ she asked, as he tossed the Villager hat aside.

  ‘Of this.’ He leaned in and caught her by the shoulders, pulling her to him so she came up onto her knees, breast to breast with him. ‘It seems an age since we made love, Emily.’

  Her eyes were wide and he could see himself reflected in them. ‘But it was only a hour or two ago –‘

  ‘There are no rules about it.’ Blake bent his head and kissed her cheek, then roamed down to her jaw line, down to nip at her chin. ‘I intend to start to make up for eight weeks apart from you.’

  ‘Blake.’ Her voice had an edge that was part panic, part an excitement that stirred his own arousal. ‘We are outside, in the open. Anyone might come along.’

  ‘Who?’ he asked, intent on the soft skin beneath her ear, the scent of sweet soap and sweeter woman a delight in his nostrils. A faint musk from their lovemaking still lingered on her skin. He felt himself harden with fierce desire.

  ‘A shepherd, a soldier, someone going for a walk… Oh, Blake...’ He caught her whisper with his lips as he lowered himself to the rug, bringing her with him so he could roll over and trap her with his elbows. Despite her skirts Emily moved to cradle him between her thighs. That morning she had seemed to fit so perfectly with his body, as though she had been made to measure for him. Was it simply luck or did she instinctively know how to mould herself to his bigger, broader frame?

  ‘Are you sore?’ He kissed her ear, holding himself in check.

  ‘I don’t think so. I just feel rather… strange.’

  Blake lifted himself, his lips clinging for a moment. ‘I’ll be very careful. And there’s no-one around,’ he promised her. ‘Just sheep.’

  ‘We’ll shock them,’ she murmured, but she was already stirring against him, her mouth soft and welcoming as he bent to take it again.

  It was not warm enough to strip her naked, he thought with regret, wishing he could see Emily, pale and rounded and slender, sprawled on daisy-spangled turf under a blue sky, watching him as he undressed. The beauty of her body had taken his breath and her innocent shyness had touched him, but he must not hurry her.

  He remembered from his boyhood that there was a slope that was thick with wild flowers below the woodlands at Greystoke. When they returned he could weave blooms in her hair, he thought, his body heating at his imaginings.

  ‘What are you thinking of?’ she asked him and he realised he was still looking down at her.

  In answer he rolled to one side and slid her skirts up, his fingers snagging slightly in the silk of her stocking, up to the garters, up to the smooth warmth of her thighs, up until he could brush the nest of springing curls. ‘Threading wild flowers into your hair.’

  She blushed, as he expected she would when she caught his meaning, then turned her head a little. ‘There are some here,’ she offered. ‘I do not know what they are. Tiny white and blue ones.’

  ‘Emily, you are a constant source of delight to me.’ Blake reached out and picked some sprigs. ‘And a constant surprise.’

  ‘Why?’ She was lying, wantonly exposed, her gaze fixed on the clouds above them, her fingers spread, spearing into the grass. Her shyness had vanished, replaced, he thought – hoped – with trust.

  ‘I thought I would shock you.’ He began to place the flowers, their earthy, herbal scent mingling with the musk of aroused woman, and felt his body clench with desire.

  Blake dipped his head, nuzzled, and she arched up, an incitement to his lips, his tongue, to taste and to caress. He doubted it had ever occurred to her that this might be part of lovemaking, but she did not try and stop him. Instead Emily’s fingers locked in his hair and she cried out as he found her centre. ‘Blake.’

  He wanted her, had wanted to bury himself in her, but her pleasure, her reaction, was so powerful that he found he could control that need and focus just on her, on her delight. He used his tongue and his lips and his teeth and every ounce of skill he possessed to drive her wild. Long, lavish strokes of his tongue, wicked probes with its tip, gentle nips along the soft folds that opened to him, revealing her hot, honeyed core. He felt intoxicated as though he was drinking rich, sweet wine and all he wanted to do, all his desire, was to make love to Emily.

  ‘Oh, Blake,’ she sobbed and went rigid under his hands as he felt her convulse against his mouth and he steadied her, his mouth gentle, until she shuddered and was still. Then he raised himself, brushed down her skirts and lay beside her, cradling her until her eyes opened and she blinked up at him, bemused.

  ‘That was… Blake, is that allowed?’

  ‘Of course. Why should it not be?’

  ‘Because it is quite indecently wonderful.’ Emily turned her face to rub her cheek against his chest. ‘But not for you.’

  ‘Emily,’ Blake said, finding his voice oddly husky, ‘You have no idea.’

  That must mean he enjoyed it too. Was it possible that if Blake could kiss her so intimately that she might reciprocate? His long body was loose and relaxed beside hers although a hard ridge of flesh pressed against her thigh and she realised that he was still very aroused.

  She stifled a sigh. Loving him was very difficult. She was so proud of his courage and his sense of duty but she was afraid for him too and selfishly afraid of losing him to that duty. He was considering selling out and that was nothing to do with his marriage. So her conscience could be clear about that and she would not need to fear for his safety from French muskets again. But he had gone back once, might he not obey another order that sent him into danger if one came again? And underneath those thoughts was the unworthy disappointment that he had said his decision would be nothing to do with his marriage. She could not keep him at home, then.

  Emily swallowed hard, opened her eyes and sat up. ‘Blake.’

  ‘Hmm?’ He was still sprawled in casual abandon. His hair had come loose and she gave in to the urge to run her fingers through it.

  ‘We are being watched.’

  He sat up, then laughed at the sight of half a dozen sheep warily eyeing them. ‘So long as they do not have a shepherd.’

  ‘If we walk down to the end of the Garrison, then around on the other side we will be in time to find a late luncheon in Hugh Town,’ Emily suggested. The animals’ foolish stares were making her uncomfortable.

  Blake stood up, cursing under his breath as his hair blew across his face. ‘Where has that thong gone? I must get this cut.’

  ‘I like it.’ She found the leather tie and handed it to him. ‘Why did you not have it cut in Spain?’

  ‘It made us less obvious. A group of unkempt men was less noticeable than if we all had fashionable London hair cuts. And then I got used to it and forgot it.’

  ‘Can you tell me about Spain?’ she asked as they began to walk. ‘I understand if it is secret. Were you spying?’

  ‘I will tell you, but do not speak of it,’ he cautioned. ‘And no, I was not spying: there were six of us, all in uniform beneath old greatcoats and cloaks.’

  ‘Behind French lines?’

  ‘Yes, scouting out fortifications and then arranging for the local guerrillas to carry out some sabotage.’

  ‘It sounds very dangerous.’ Emily slid her hand into the crook of his arm. ‘You are heroic.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He glanced down, grinned. ‘Thank you, my love.’ Emily’s heart leapt, disconcertingly, but it was only a thoughtless endearment, she realised. ‘Anyway, it took us a week to extricate ourselves and reach Gibraltar. The border with Portugal was far too hot to risk. Debriefing, sorting oursel
ves out, it all took time. Eventually I got a ship home. I was recovering from all the excitement quite well until I met a ghost on the battlements. I have probably got white hairs now.’

  Blake would not tell her more, she guessed, her mind baulking at the effort of imagining the danger and the long escape across Spain. They walked back down the slope they had climbed.

  The soldiers clustered around the gun emplacement looked up at the sound of their voices. The grass underfoot was slippery and she held tight to Blake’s arm. Beside her he felt strong and solid. She had taken that for granted when they were courting, she realised, and not thought about the dangers implicit in the uniform he wore with such distinction.

  Emily slanted a look at her husband from under her lashes. She had fallen in love with a handsome face, a glamorous uniform and a dashing reputation. Now she saw the fine lines at the corners of those green eyes, the small scars, the marks of weariness and strain masked by hard-earned control. This was the face of a man who had lived and fought and yet could make love to a nervous bride with tenderness and humour. She had not really known him at all. And yet she loved him.

  Solemnly Blake returned the salutes and turned away from the soldiers along the path. ‘You will have some martial chaperons if we stay on this track,’ he remarked.

  ‘There are no more troops in the emplacements until we are back to the Star Fort,’ she said. ‘Apparently this stretch of water can be properly watched from either end and they can man the guns if there is an alarm.’

  After a few minutes they came to another banked circle on the low cliff edge, the sinister black barrels of three cannon pointing out to sea breaking into the edge. ‘You see, we have this one all to ourselves.’

  Blake strolled through, leaned back against a cannon with his arms outstretched along the barrel and smiled at her. ‘You look extraordinarily lovely. And well loved.’

  ‘I think I have been,’ she said, walking up until they were toe to toe and she could rest her hands on either side of the narrow hips.

  ‘Look at me like that, madam wife, and I will have to make certain of that.’

  What made her so bold she had no idea. Emily tossed aside her hat and knelt in front of him, her hands sliding round to cover the hard bulge that thrust at the front of his uniform trousers.

  ‘Emily.’ It was a gasp. ‘If you do that I will be hard pressed not to take you again here and now.’

  The fall of his trousers was quite easy to undo, his erection too urgent to hide from her questing hands. Fascinated, aroused, she leaned closer even as his hands fastened on her shoulders as though to push her away… to pull her closer.

  Close enough to kiss, close enough to take him between her lips, the soft, smooth skin over the iron-hard flesh sliding into her mouth with shocking rightness. She had loved his mouth on her, it seemed he felt the same about her caresses.

  For a moment she felt uncertain, clumsy, then the subtle movements of his body guided her rhythm, the groans she tore from him encouraged her boldness and then the world consisted only of the heat and musk of his body, the slide of her tongue and lips, the knowledge that she was making love to the man she loved.

  She felt him fighting the need to thrust deep, felt the climax take him, held him until he had stopped shaking, then let him pull her into his arms for his kiss.

  It went on a long time until at last she stood resting against Blake’s chest, shaken by the intensity of her feelings for him while he murmured words she could not make out into her hair. Their lovemaking in the open air, under the sun, felt precious, special in a way that transcended the pleasure.

  After a while he set his disordered clothing in order, kissed her again and, her hand in his, guided her back out onto the path.

  Now, she thought, I can ask him anything.

  Even so, it took a while to find her voice, to break into the magic. ‘Why did you not tell me why you had to go?’ Emily asked after a few minutes.

  ‘I could tell from the initial message that it had to be kept completely quiet. There are spies in London Society: we could not risk any hint of a leak. There was a meeting of important generals at that castle, it was critical to achieve surprise.’

  ‘Did you not trust me?’ The stab of hurt brought anger with it, from nowhere, shattering the perfect mood. It shocked her, she never lost her temper and now… But she could not help it, the perfection of the lovemaking had changed everything.

  ‘I am your wife!’ she stammered, trying to convey how much his words wounded her. ‘Do you think I would – could – do anything that would endanger you? That I might help the French by speaking carelessly?’

  Soldiers clustered around the next gun emplacement ahead of them looked up at her raised voice. They were almost back at the powder magazine. Blake stood still. ‘I did not know you.’

  ‘You knew me well enough to marry me,’ Emily said. So this was why he had simply abandoned her without an explanation. She took a grip on her anger and made herself speak calmly. ‘Well enough to entrust me with you name and your honour. Well enough to choose me to be mother to your children. Do you think me so empty-headed that I would prattle of something you had told me in confidence?’

  ‘It did not occur to me to confide in you,’ he said stiffly. ‘It was dangerous –‘

  ‘So I am such an idiot that I do not know that anything you would be involved in would be dangerous? It was hard enough not knowing whether you were dead or alive, but not even to be trusted not to betray you? Why did you marry me, Blake, if you think so little of me?’

  Emily found she could not bear to stand there and have him tell her why. The money of course. It was something a woman who was not in love with him, who had only married him for position and status, would happily accept. She should accept it too and not let these impossible yearnings for love and trust destroy her poise and wreck what happiness she could find in this marriage. Because he was a tender lover did not mean Blake loved her, she should know that, learn to live with it, not confuse sex with deeper feelings.

  ‘No. Don’t say anything. I am sorry. I am being unreasonable, I know I am. And foolish. I thought perhaps you might leave the army because of me – not that I would ever ask you to – but you were thinking of it all along. I was silly enough to – No, never mind.’ She had almost blurted out her love for him. ‘I will just go and… just –‘

  Emily took to her heels, one hand holding her hat on, the other catching up her skirts. She passed the small group of soldiers, had a fleeting impression of open mouths, then found herself at the clock-gate down into the town.

  Blake had not run after her or he would have caught her by now. Of course, he was in uniform, he would not run after a woman in front of a group of soldiers. The crest of the slope hid him from her, so she had a few moments to decide where to go. If she went back to the Star Castle there would be no escaping him and she could not face him, not until she had recovered her poise and managed to get this foolish yearning for love under control. To the Governor’s house? No, that would be to risk a blazing row in front of everyone.

  Emily hurried through the gate and down the steep cobbled roadway to the town. She had come up on donkey-back and never realised just how precipitous it was. She fought to slow down but her feet were running away with her and she was in the middle of the road, too far to catch hold of railings or door frames.

  ‘It is all right, ma’am, I’ll catch you!’ A naval officer was striding up the cobbles towards her, his arms outstretched. With a thud that made him rock she hit his chest and they swayed together for a moment before he managed to get his balance. He was a tall man, but the slope was steep enough for her to be able to look him in the eyes.

  ‘I am so sorry,’ she gasped, clutching at his lapels.

  ‘My pleasure, ma’am.’ His eyes were twinkling and she realised they were far too close together for decorum. The officer looked over her shoulder, up the hill. ‘Is that man bothering you?’

  Emily twisted round. Blake
, his face like thunder, was striding down towards them.

  Chapter Five

  It was perfectly obvious what had happened. Emily had launched herself down this precipitous road far too fast for safety and the lieutenant had caught her. He had probably saved her from a nasty fall and who could blame him for holding onto a delicious armful of panting, grateful woman?

  I could, Blake thought grimly, closing on them. The sensation in the pit of his stomach at seeing Emily clasped on another man’s arms was primitive, violent and uncivilised. He wanted to flatten the lieutenant. The instinct was not helped by the man attempting to put Emily behind him as though to protect her.

  ‘No, I am quite all right,’ she was protesting as he came within earshot. ‘That is my husband. I remembered I was late and I took the hill too fast, that is all.’ As Blake reached her side she turned to him, her smile forced. ‘My lord, this gentleman has saved me from a tumble.’

  ‘So I see.’ Blake schooled his face into an expression of gratitude even as he felt his teeth grit together. ‘I do wish you would not rush about so, my dear, you cannot always rely on the navy to rescue you.’ He put out his right hand to the lieutenant, drawing Emily against him with the other. ‘Greystoke. Obliged to you, sir.’

  ‘Walker. My duty, sir. Ma’am.’ The officer raised his hat and strode past them up the hill.

  Hell, what was that knotting inside him, making him want to hit a perfectly honourable fellow-officer? Jealousy? Emily stood quite still, his hand wrapped around her forearm. ‘Are you all right? You could have fallen, badly.’

  ‘I know.’ She seemed braced as if expecting him to shout at her, he realised. ‘I forgot how steep it is.’ Her chin was up, her lips tight and she kept her gaze firmly on the gilt button just below his stock.

  ‘Come, let us go and find an inn with a private parlour and have something to eat.’ The mildness of his tone brought her eyes, wide and blue and puzzled, up to meet his. Blake knew the things she could probably read in his face were not what his voice was telling her, but he did not understand himself just now, let alone feel capable of explaining what he felt to her.