“What about here," he asked. She didn’t reply, but her eyes had grown far darker than their usual sky blue. She just held his gaze as he slid his hand down to the inside of her thigh and caressed her even more gently there.
“Here,” he asked huskily, his own voice betraying the strength of emotion she raised in him. Again, she did not answer, but there was a look of torment in her eyes as very gently, very slowly, he moved higher and higher up the inside of her thigh, circling his way to the most intimate part of her. He closed his eyes. It was as if his fingers had developed a mind of their own. What had started as a game had overtaken him. His breath was coming in short bursts. He was aware that Rose, too, was breathing quickly and shallowly. He had reached the point where her legs joined her body, where her skin was the warmest. He ached to touch her there. He circled all five fingers right at the top of her legs, brushing slightly against the softest part of her with each revolution.
He opened his eyes to look into Rose’s, but she had her head flung back. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly. He realized she was not going to stop him. That was all he needed to know. Very gently, very slowly, he moved his hand to rest one finger on top of the cotton material covering her womanhood. Rose gasped, but rather than pulling away, she pushed herself against his hand. What he had intended as a light touch suddenly became much harder. He could feel the contours of her most intimate place through the cotton covering as he stroked up and down with first one finger, then two, then three, and the warmth of her flooded against his skin. He made a feathering motion with his fingers, just as he had done against her leg, and rubbed her where he knew it would feel most pleasing. Rose squirmed at his touch as Will's fingers pressed deeper and harder against her. He closed his eyes again, holding his breath to try to stop it from coming so hard in his chest, feeling the swelling in his breeches pushing against the material. The need to make love to her, to rip off her drawers and push himself inside of her, was becoming unbearable. He tried to focus only on the movement of his fingertips, giving her pleasure and denying his own. As she pressed her womanhood even harder against his hand, he moved up to cover her lips, to allow his tongue to plunge into her mouth, just as he wanted to plunge the rest of him inside her.
She was saying his name against his lips, over and over, as the movement of his fingers became rhythmic, vibrating against the nub of her that he knew would give her the most pleasurable sensation until it felt as if there was no material barrier between his hand and her soft wetness. He was stroking her as if she was laid bare beneath him. He knew all he had to do was tug on the drawstring at her waist, and push his hand inside and he could touch her naked body without any barrier, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t.
He lifted his lips from hers and shook his head against the rising tide of sensation coming up through his abdomen. He tried to think of something else, anything else, as he continued touching Rose at the very center of her, but the feel of her, the sight of her arching her body upwards, the sound of her voice uttering his name was a potent force he couldn't resist. He had to stop. He withdrew his fingers abruptly and instead pressed the heel of his hand hard against her pelvic bone, lifting her, raising her, with the force of his touch. He held her like that, nothing moving, his forehead against her collarbone, as he gulped down the tumult of emotion he was feeling. Rose stopped writhing and slowly lowered her body back down flat on the grass, taking his hand with her. Her breathing was as loud as his.
It felt a long time before he could breathe normally again and open his eyes. Rose was lying on her back, staring at the sky, her eyes wide open. Slowly, reluctantly, Will moved his hand away from her core, which he could still feel pulsating against his palm. He pushed her dress back down towards her ankles, covering her, and smoothed the material flat, then he flopped down next to her, lying on her coat.
“I never imagined….” she said quietly.
He rolled his head towards her. It had not occurred to him that she might never have been brought so close to the heights of passion before. But then, he had never felt anything like that before either—an unstoppable force rising in him like a tidal wave, not just from his groin but from every limb, every organ, every cell.
“Will.” She reached across the divide between them and clasped his hand in hers. “How did you do that?”
He smiled. “That wasn’t even the best of it.”
“It wasn’t?”
He chuckled and shook her hand in his.
“I thought I would burst,” she said.
“You and me both,” he assured her. “So much for a quiet walk around the ramparts.”
“You never intended that,” she accused him.
“No,” he agreed, “I didn’t.”
They lay silently for a moment, and then she said, "I will never look at this keep the same way again.” Then they both laughed, and he kissed her, and she kissed him back, and he threw his knee over her waist and pinned her down. He stared at her as he pulled back from her lips. There was so much he wanted to say to this woman, but he couldn't say any of it.
“We should be getting back,” she said finally.
“Yes,” he agreed, but not just because it was getting late, but because he couldn't trust himself to lie here any longer with her, lest he touch her again.
He sat up and pulled her up beside him, then he reached for her boots, gently slid them onto her stockinged feet, and laced them up. Then he pulled her to her feet in front of him and bent and brushed his lips against hers. Leaning back, he moved a tendril of hair away from her eyes.
“You’ll do,” he said tenderly, unable to disguise the croak in his throat, as he leaned down for their coats.
He led her gently down the steep bank facing away from the castle to the turret tower below. It was certainly easier going down than up, but they held hands anyway, knowing nobody could see them. Then they walked slowly around the front of the castle, entering by the main gate, just as they would as if she had been to town to run some errands.
Jennings was waiting by the front entrance. He smiled warmly at Will and dipped his head to Rose. “We wondered where you had got to, Your Grace,” he said. “The Duke was asking for you, but we said you were occupied.”
"I think that is my cue,” Will said. “I promised to take dinner with His Grace again this evening, so I must make haste. Good day, Your Grace.”
Rose did not lay eyes on Will for the next two days. She did not see him coming or going from the castle, and he did not seek her out. She was not sure if he was still staying there.
She had no desire to see Ernest these days. When she returned from a walk one afternoon,Jennings told her the doctor had visited, but did not know the outcome. She guessed she could have asked about Will, but shedid not. Every night, she lay in her bed, wondering if Will would return to her room. Every creak or sound in the corridor heightened her senses. She chastised herself for being preoccupied with him.
On the third morning, she woke to the knowledge that it was her birthday. This was not something she had celebrated in a very long time, not since her parents were alive. For Rose, it had always been just another day, but as she lay in bed stretching beneath the covers, she bemoaned another year gone, another year older. This was a new decade, and she wondered where it would take her after the stultifying boredom of the last one.
The servants were not aware the day was special. She ate her breakfast alone in bed and did not rise until mid-morning. She had Anna select one of her nicest day gowns, in a blue to match her eyes, with pretty detailing. If it was to be a solitary celebration again, she might as well look nice. Anna was very pleased to dress her mistress in something so lovely and kept smiling at Rose while she arranged her hair.
“Is everything quite right with you, Anna?” Rose asked eventually when her maid kept giving her furtive glances in the mirror.
“Oh yes, Your Grace,” Anna beamed. “Very alright.”