Further along the terrace, she heard the snick of a door latch. She glanced over her shoulder and saw a door open, just an inch.
Lord Deben was waiting for her.
She jerked her attention back to the garden, her breathing shallow, her heart pounding in her chest.
If she went to him, he would kiss her. Kiss her in the way she’d been dreaming of for what felt like for ever.
It was wrong, totally wrong to be alone with a man like him, knowing he intended to act with impropriety. He’d spoken of putting his hands on her body.
She peeped over her shoulder again.
If she went in there, she would be admitting he had conquered her. That she could not resist the temptation of knowing what it would be like to have him kiss her.
Not that anybody else would know. He was so experienced in carrying on clandestine intrigues that he would make quite sure of that. He’d staged that final scene in the ballroom so that everyone would think it was their final farewell. So that this parting would be their secret—theirs and nobody else’s.
She turned round fully, though she still leaned back against the balustrade, her fingers clinging to the copingstone as though it were the last bulwark of respectability. But her mind was already racing ahead.
Since nothing could come of their relationship, since it had to end, she didn’t see why she shouldn’t have at least one memory to take back to Much Wakering with her. One memory of doing exactly as she pleased, without worrying what impact it would have on everyone else.
One sweet memory of a real kiss, from a man like no other. She would hug it to herself. Bring it out and examine it during the long lonely days of her spinsterhood, because there would never be anybody to measure up to Lord Deben. And why should she settle for second-best?
She was halfway across the terrace before she’d even noticed that she’d pushed herself away from the balustrade. Her feet were carrying her across the uneven flags as though Lord Deben were pulling her towards him with invisible cords.
She hesitated, her hand on the latch.
One kiss, that was all this would be. A farewell kiss.
She didn’t see why she should deny herself just that one treat, no matter how wicked anyone else might say it was.
She took a deep breath, lifted her chin and crossed the threshold.
Chapter Eleven
‘You came,’ said Lord Deben, gruffly, reaching round her to lock the terrace door.
She could not see his face clearly, for the room was lit only by one candle, set upon the mantelpiece. But she’d heard something in his voice that made her heart leap. Eagerness. Relief? No, not that. It couldn’t possibly matter to him all that much whether she had come to him or not. That was just wishful thinking.
Nevertheless, she yielded to the temptation to lay her forehead against his chest as he yanked the curtains closed to prevent anyone from being able to see in, for the action ended with his arms closing about her. For a moment, it felt almost like a real lover’s embrace.
And when he said, ‘I am glad’, and dropped a brief kiss on the crown of her head she almost dared to snake her arms about his waist and hug him.
Hug him? What was she thinking? He would not welcome a show of affection. He did not believe there was something uniquely precious about this moment. It was not affection he wanted from her. It was something darker. And twisted. Something comprised of myriad layers she had not a hope of ever penetrating.
She was out of her depth with this complex, embittered man.
And yet if she was, if she floundered, somehow she knew he would not let her drown. She couldn’t love him if she hadn’t detected, beneath all that armoured cynicism, glimpses of something that would never be completely corrupted. Something that called to her.
It was only when she stirred in his arms that he realised that he was holding her so hard she could probably scarcely breathe. It took an effort for him to be able to relax his grip. He hadn’t dared hope she would really work up enough courage to come to him like this. He’d paced the floor at nights, since sleep eluded him, knowing his entire future depended on this final throw of the dice.
But now she was here. And it would be here, in this room, if all went according to plan, he would bind her to him for ever.
She looked up into his face. ‘I don’t want you to think...’ she began, but he stopped her by placing one finger over her lips.