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“But how can I be a diplomat’s wife?” For the first time, she felt truly panicked. The thrill at hearing him put into words the depth of his feelings for her had given way to the practicalities. Little matter that she’d come here for the single purpose of receiving just such a declaration only to throw it back in his face, claim her reward from Mrs Gedge, and thus be free.

She would no more be free than a slave from Africa if she were forced to give up his love.

“I love you, Faith. My commitment is not in doubt.” He stroked her cheek and gently kissed her mouth, his words more important than his desire, which was apparent as his body pressed against hers. “Is yours?”

She shook her head, and in a fresh burst of ardour pulled him down, her hands sliding to his trousers, indicating her impatience that he divest himself of all impediments to furthering the intimacy between them.

“I love you.”

“Say my name.”

“I love you, Crispin.” The words came out on a sigh of happiness, made wonderful and magical…and pure...by the fact they were spoken in truth. And she was pure, wasn’t she? Pure in the Biblical sense. She’d not lain

with another; she’d given her virginity to this man, and she had every right to claim his love and whatever else he offered.

That she was a creature bred for revenge need not enter into it. Faith had lived by her wits, and the prize was freedom. Never had she doubted she’d get what she wanted for she was cleverer than Mrs Gedge, cleverer than Madame Chambon, and cleverer than Lady Vernon. If Mr Westaway…Crispin…wanted to marry her, she could make a plan that would enable it to happen.

“You are not the shy creature I thought you at first,” he whispered, unfastening the front of her dress and sliding his hands inside. “But you’re a great deal more buttoned up than you were yesterday,” he added, referring to the fact she wore a corset and underclothing beneath her ensemble.

“You’ll have to make me less buttoned up,” she giggled, rolling onto her side so he could slide off her skirt, then onto her back so he could unlace her corset, and finally, giving him unfettered access to her combinations. “If romance can survive all that, I am completely yours.”

“My darling, I relish the challenge.” He kissed her on the nose. “And your humour. Lady Vernon doesn’t know the half of you, does she?”

“Lady Vernon thinks she does.” Naked at last, Faith revelled in the way his eyes feasted on her breasts. She breathed deeply, causing them to rise and laughing when the invitation was so implicit, he lowered his head to take one nipple in his mouth.

“Too divine,” she whispered as sensation snaked through her limbs and coalesced at the juncture of her legs. The weight of him on top of her was unbearably wonderful, and she felt all powerful at the feel of his erection pressing against her. She’d seen naked men aroused before and been disgusted. But Crispin was too beautiful for words. Tender and kindhearted, masculine but conscious of her needs, she was not going to let him go.

To be joined with him again was to reinforce their bond. Unbreakable. That’s what it would be. Faith had never loved before this. It’s how she knew what it was. She’d observed him with the same intensity he’d observed her. She knew his moods, understood what drove him, sympathised with the obstacles placed in his path.

Well, there would be obstacles they both must face, but face them they must. If this truly were love, as each believed, then they would overcome.

Arching her back, she guided his hand to her mound, as if by accident, gasping at the pressure so that he blinked in surprise for just a second before he did exactly as she’d hoped he would.

Dear lord, but he was good. Her legs went slack, and now he was inside her, and she grasped his buttocks and moved with him in glorious harmony.

Until both could take it no more and came together in a shuddering climax.

“We shall marry as soon as possible,” he said urgently holding her close as they both regulated their breathing. “I can’t bear the thought of being parted from you.”

“Your father will object. We need to be careful.” Except that it was Faith who needed to be careful. Mr Westaway’s father was less of a danger than Mrs Gedge.

He seemed reluctant to accept this, and Faith was relieved when he finally agreed not to make any immediate announcement.

“Promise me you won’t say anything until I say it’s all right, Crispin?” She needed this. Playing for time was of the essence. A few days in which to plan, to set in motion a means by which Faith could extricate herself from the tentacles with which Mrs Gedge would bind her.

She did not feel she was abusing Crispin’s faith in her. If he loved her and could be confident the girl he wanted to make his wife was a virgin when he first made love to her, and if he still wanted to marry her, knowing she was penniless, and despite his father’s anticipated opposition, what did the rest matter?

She put her finger to his lips. “Let this be our secret, Crispin, until the painting is finished.” She cuddled against him, relieved that he did not object. “Don’t signal to Lady Vernon your feelings just yet. Can you do that?” Thoughtfully, she added, “Though if you want to write me love letters to make up for what you don’t say to me in person, that would be very acceptable.”

“My most beloved Faith,

You are the moon, the sun, and the stars. When I conjure up your image, it’s imbued with a magical glow for you have lit up my life. In just a few days, I know that everything worth having is invested in you. I do not write these words lightly. I have lived, and I have loved, but I’ve never known what love was until I met you.”

With hope and faith that you return the love I feel for you, and excitement for our future as husband and wife, I’ll end with a reminder that surely must not be necessary—only two more hours until we can meet again…no one but the two of us.”

Faith kissed the envelope and leaned back on her window seat, gazing at the sky and the distant green verdant hills, bathed in evening light as if they were imbued with everything Crispin, she believed, seemed to feel right now—hope and…faith.

Yes, he had faith in her and in a shared future. Life had never been so thrilling.


Tags: Beverley Oakley Fair Cyprians of London Historical