‘I wonder where my bedchamber can be. Perhaps the landlord can show me the way.’

The corridor was very busy, and through the doorway opposite she could see that the taproom was packed with men enjoying ale and tobacco while they sheltered from the rain. Of the landlord there was no sign.

Undeterred, Evelina made her way quickly through the coffee room, trying to ignore the inquisitive stares of its patrons. She kept her eyes fixed upon the door, putting out her hand as she approached. It opened easily, but in her haste she did not see the slight step down and found herself hurtling through the doorway, off balance. She cannoned into the man nearest the door.

‘Oh, I beg your pardon,’ she gasped as strong arms shot out to steady her. ‘I—’Her words died away as she looked up and found herself staring up into the all-too-familiar face of Nick Wylder.

Evelina’s breath caught in her throat, and for an instant she thought she might faint. The look of surprise on Nick’s face gave way to one of wry humour. The corners of his mouth lifted.

‘Oh, Lord,’ he murmured. ‘This was not meant to happen.’

Praise for Sarah Mallory

‘Sarah Mallory’s name is set to become a favourite with readers of historical romantic fiction the world over!’

—Cataromance

‘MORE THAN A GOVERNESS is a richly woven tale of passion, intrigue and suspense that deserves a place on your keeper shelf!’

—Cataromance

Wicked Captain, Wayward Wife
Sarah Mallory

MILLS & BOON®

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Sarah Mallory was born in Bristol, and now lives in an old farmhouse on the edge of the Pennines with her husband and family. She left grammar school at sixteen, to work in companies as varied as stockbrokers, marine engineers, insurance brokers, biscuit manufacturers and even a quarrying company. Her first book was published shortly after the birth of her daughter. She has published more than a dozen books under the pen-name of Melinda Hammond, winning the Reviewers’ Choice Award in 2005 from Singletitles.com for DANCE FOR A DIAMOND, and the Historical Novel Society’s Editors’ Choice in November 2006 for GENTLEMEN IN QUESTION.

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MORE THAN A GOVERNESS THE WICKED BARON

To the Romantic Novelists’ Association, for the unstinting friendship and support I have found there.

Chapter One

Makerham Court, Surrey—July 1783

‘Ouch!’

Evelina jumped as the rose thorn pricked her finger. How timely, she thought, staring at the tiny bead of blood. She had just been thinking that this was the most dangerous activity she undertook; cutting flowers. She sighed. These sheltered ornamental gardens at Makerham summed up her life; ordered, secure, protected. She wiped the blood from her finger and firmly suppressed the vague feeling of dissatisfaction. She had become more aware of it recently, this impression of being stifled. But she was happy, wasn’t she, keeping house for her grandfather? He had promised to take care of her, to provide for her. She need not worry about anything.

Evelina picked up her basket of summer flowers and was walking back to the house when she heard the sound of hoofbeats on the drive. She looked up to see a rider approaching on a rangy black horse. At the stone bridge that gave access to the ancient, moated house she stopped, her head tilted enquiringly as he rode up. The man drew rein and jumped down. He was very tall, she noted. Strong, too, judging by the width of shoulder beneath his dark riding jacket and the powerful legs encased in buckskins and gleaming top boots. His black hair was caught back with a ribbon and there was a rakish look in his laughing blue eyes. He looked like an adventurer, she thought. Tall and dark and…

‘You must be Evelina.’ His voice was rich and warm as honey. ‘How do you do?’

Without waiting for her reply he reached out, pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Eve was so shocked she dropped her basket. She made no effort to pull away; with his arms holding her so firmly it would have been impossible to do so, even if she had wanted to. She had never been kissed by a man before and the sensation was surprisingly pleasant, jolting her senses alive so that she was aware of the scent of his skin, the mingled smell of soap and spices and horses and…she did not know what. Man, she supposed.

He raised his head and gave her a rueful smile, although Eve thought the glint in his deep blue eyes positively wicked.

‘Oh Lord,’ he said, stepping back from her. ‘That was not meant to happen.’

Eve stared up at him, shaken, and wondered what a well-bred young lady should do in this situation. With some deliberation she brought her hand up and dealt him a ringing slap across the face.

He flinched a little, but continued to smile down at her, mischief glinting in his blue eyes. ‘I suppose I deserved that.’

It took an effort for Eve to look away from that hypnotic gaze. Her basket was lying on the floor, roses, irises and common daisies tossed on to the drive. With shaking hands she began to gather them up. The man dropped onto one knee beside her, unsettling her with his nearness.

‘You do not seem very pleased to see me,’ he remarked.

She concentrated on collecting up the flowers and putting them back into the basket. She said stiffly. ‘I do not know you sir.’

‘Oh, did your grandfather not tell you?’ Laughter trembled in his voice. ‘I am Nick Wylder.’ He picked up a rose and held it out to her. ‘I am the man you are going to marry.’

Eve jumped to her feet. The man rose in one agile movement and looked down at her with pure amusement in his eyes. A devil-may-care man, she thought. His lean, handsome face was too attractive. Dangerous. Instinctively she drew away from him.

‘Your jest lacks humour, sir.’

Those mobile black brows drew together slightly. ‘Has your grandfather not told you? Then my apologies, Miss Shawcross.’

She regarded his flashing smile with suspicion. ‘I see no remorse in you sir. I do not believe you know how to apologise.’

He stepped back, his smile softening into something gentler as he said contritely, ‘I have truly offended you. Pray, ma’am, forgive me. I did not mean to do that.’

She was not proof against his beguiling look and found herself weakening. She made an effort to maintain her scornful attitude. ‘It seems to me, sir, that there is much you do not mean to do!’

He treated her again to his devastating smile and this time she noticed the dimple in his cheek. It was so very distracting.

‘Aha, you are not so angry after all. I see the twinkle in your eye, Miss Shawcross. You would laugh, if you were not determined to put me in my place! Am I forgiven, ma’am?’

She turned away that he would not see her smile. ‘That depends upon your future conduct Mr…Wylder. Am I to understand that you have come to see my grandfather?’

‘I have indeed, ma’am, if he is well enough to receive me. I sent my man over this morning to advise you of my arrival.’

She inclined her head. ‘I have not seen Grandpapa since we broke our fast together, so I know nothing of your message. However, that does not mean you are unwelcome. Pray come in, sir, and I will ascertain if he can see you.’

She left the visitor in the great hall with its walls lined with armour. Shields, swords and halberds battled for place between the long windows, a reminder of the turbulent period when the hall was built. As she ran up the stairs she glanced back at him. He was standing before the huge fireplace, studying the crest carved into the overmantel. His head was thrown back and she was treated to an excellent view of his profile with its straight nose and strong jaw-line. Powerful. Confident. She thought how well he would fit into those unsettled times.

As soon as she was out of sight at the top of the stairs she stopped and leaned against the wall. Her heart was thudding uncomfortably in her chest. So it had happened; her grandfather had always promised her that one day he would bring home a husband for her. He had told her to trust him to find a suitable gentleman, one who would look after her as he had always done. One who would make her happy. She pressed her hands to her cheeks. She had expected Grandfather to bring home someone like Squire Amos from Makerham village, someone solid and respectable. There was no doubt that the gentleman now standing in the great hall was solid—when he had crushed her to him he had felt very solid indeed—but she doubted very much that he was respectable. Eve was aware that she had led a very sheltered life, but she knew that respectable gentlemen did not kiss young ladies before they had even been introduced! And respectable young ladies did not stay to exchange banter with such scoundrels. Eve wondered why she had not run away when the man released her. Somewhat to her surprise she realised that he had not frightened her. She had been shocked, yes, and outraged, but never afraid. She took a deep breath and smoothed her hands down over her gown. If only it was as easy to smooth her disordered nerves. If Grandpapa discovered the cause of her agitation he would be alarmed; he might even send his visitor away. With a little jolt of surprise she realised that she really did not want that to happen.

Eve found her grandfather in the morning room. His winged chair had been moved to the window and he was sitting now with a blanket across his knees, gazing out over the park.

‘Grandpapa?’

Sir Benjamin Shawcross had been a good-looking man in his youth, but ill health had aged him prematurely and although he was not much more than sixty, his skin had grown sallow and the flesh hung loosely on his large frame.

However, despite the great effort it cost him every morning, he insisted that his valet, Rooney, should help him out of bed and dress him in his velvet coat and fresh linen. His sparse grey hair was hidden by a curly wig in the old style and there was always a twinkle in his faded blue eyes. It was in evidence now as he looked at his granddaughter.

‘Eve, my dear, come in. Rooney has made me comfortable here, you see, where I can look out of the window. I have a visitor, you know.’

‘Yes, sir, I do know.’ Eve put down her basket and slipped across the room to his side.

As she bent to drop a kiss on his forehead she glanced out of the window. The room looked out over the front drive, but thankfully any view of the little stone bridge was blocked by the bulk of the Gate House tower. Her grandfather would not have seen her first encounter with his guest. She dropped down to sit on the footstool beside his chair and gathered his gnarled old hands between her own. ‘Mr Wylder is even now in the hall, Grandpapa.’

‘Captain, my love; he is Captain Wylder. He sailed with Admiral Howe against the French and acquitted himself well, by all accounts.’

‘That may be so, sir, but before he is brought up I want you to tell me just why he is here.’

‘A pretty thing, child, if I must answer to you for inviting a guest to my own house!’

Eve was not deceived by his blustering tone. She saw the consternation in his faded eyes, but she was not to be swayed from her course. ‘Please, Grandfather, tell me.’

‘I have known the family for years. Nick Wylder is the younger brother of the Earl of Darrington. Of course we are not well acquainted, for he is so much younger than I am and he has spent most of his time at sea. He resigned with Howe in ’78, you know. Neither of them thought very much of the government’s handling of the American War but before they could return to England they were caught up in the defence of Rhode Island. Clever bit o’ work, that.’ Sir Benjamin chuckled. ‘Outwitted the French all right and tight, and young Nicholas in the thick of it. Commended for his bravery, mentioned in the newspapers. You may remember it—’

‘That was five years ago, Grandpapa,’ Eve interrupted him quietly but firmly. ‘And I do not remember you ever drawing my attention to a Captain Wylder.’

‘No, well, perhaps not. In fact I did not recall much about it myself, until young Nicholas sought me out at Tunbridge Wells last month. It was Percy Anderton told me his history. Percy lost his son in the action, you see, and Captain Wylder came to see him as soon as he returned to England, to pay his respects. Percy was very impressed. Captain Wylder has friends in the government, too it appears—young Pitt and Lord North—’

‘But you said Captain Wylder sought you out, Grandpapa,’ Eve persisted, frowning. ‘Why should he do that?’

‘Why should he not? Old family friend, after all.’

‘Yes, but why should he wait until now to look you up?’

‘I have no idea, but I am very glad he did. A fine young man, Eve, and very attentive to me. I invited him to call upon us…’

‘But you have not said a word about him to me, Grandpapa.’

Sir Benjamin stirred uncomfortably in his chair. ‘No, well, the time did not seem propitious, and after all, I did not know if he would really come.’

‘Have you brought him here as a husband for me?’ she asked in her direct way.

‘He did mention to me that he was looking for a wife, and…’

‘And you want me to take a husband.’

‘Only if you are inclined to do so, Evelina.’

‘I have told you, Grandfather, I have no wish for a husband yet.’

‘But you will need someone to look after you when I am gone.’

‘Grandpapa!’

‘Do not frown at me, Eve. We both know that I am failing. Doctor Scott has warned us that my heart is very weak now; the end cannot be far away—’

‘You must not say such things,’ she said fiercely.

‘Ignoring the inevitable will not prevent it, my love. If Nick Wylder wants to wed you I recommend you to accept him. I shall not insist, of course, but I would ask that you consider the matter very carefully.’ He squeezed her fingers and released them. ‘Now, we must not keep our guest waiting any longer. Have Captain Wylder fetched up, Evelina.’

‘But, sir—’

He waved his hand impatiently. ‘Would you have me thought uncivil, gel? Tell Green to show him up.’

The order was given, and Eve went back to stand beside her grandfather. He reached for her hand.

‘Trust me on this, love; I am thinking only of you. Ah…’ He turned towards the door as the butler announced his visitor. ‘My dear sir, you are very welcome! Forgive me for not getting up to meet you, but my legs are very weak today. The baths at Tunbridge did not help me overmuch on this occasion.’

‘I am sorry to hear it, Sir Benjamin.’

Evelina watched Captain Nick Wylder stride into the room, his healthy vigour even more in evidence when contrasted with her grandfather’s feebleness. He came forwards and bowed to his host, exuding energy. Sir Benjamin smiled and nodded.

‘You have met my granddaughter, Evelina?’

Eve found those blue eyes fixed upon her. She had the strange impression that he could read her innermost thoughts. She put up her chin and returned his look defiantly.

‘Yes indeed.’ Nick Wylder turned and made a fine leg to her. ‘That is, we introduced ourselves, but I am glad of this opportunity to be more formally presented, sir.’ His eyes laughed at her. ‘I fear Miss Shawcross disapproves of me.’

She sank into a curtsy, her cheeks burning. How was it possible to want to laugh and be cross at the same time? She had no experience of gentlemen like Captain Wylder, but instinct told her to beware of him.

Eve determined she would not talk to the captain but her resolve was unnecessary. By the time she had risen out of her curtsy, he had engaged Sir Benjamin in conversation, discussing with ease such diverse subjects as the efficacy of hot baths, the pleasures of hunting and the grand tour. There was nothing for her to do but to arrange her flowers in the vase Green had provided for her. She was out of reason cross that she could not deliver a snub to the laughing gentleman.

‘I saw you ride in, Captain,’ said Sir Benjamin. ‘I take it your baggage follows you?’

‘Yes, sir. Richard Granby, my valet, accompanies it in my travelling carriage.’

‘You are staying?’ Eve blurted out.

Once more those disturbingly blue eyes rested upon her.

‘I am afraid so. Will that inconvenience you?’

‘N-no…’ she faltered. ‘That is, you are staying no more than the one night, I hope.’

Sir Benjamin chuckled. ‘Take no notice of my granddaughter, Captain Wylder. She is a great one for jesting.’

‘So I have noticed, Sir Benjamin.’ He smiled across at her in a way that made Eve want to hit him.

‘Captain Wylder is making a prolonged visit with us,’ explained Sir Benjamin.

‘Really?’ Eve pinned on a brittle, sugar-sweet smile.

‘I am greatly indebted to your grandfather for allowing me to stay with you,’ Nick bowed to her. ‘I shall have plenty of time to grow used to your funning.’

Eve turned back to her flower arrangement. Her angry, jerky movements broke one of the stems and she was obliged to breathe deeply and calm herself before she continued. The butler came in with a decanter and two glasses and after that the gentlemen paid her no attention, engrossed in their discussions of hunters and bloodlines, so, as soon as she had finished, Eve muttered her excuses and made her escape.

Nick watched her leave the room, her little heels kicking up her skirts as she crossed the floor. A slight cough from Sir Benjamin made him turn and he found his host was holding out his empty glass, indicating with the lift of an eyebrow that it should be refilled. Nick hesitated and the older man winked at him. ‘Come along, my boy. My butler and my granddaughter might argue that brandy is not good for me, but you have not heard my doctor say so. Life is for living, sir, and I mean to enjoy what little time I have left.’

‘I cannot fault that philosophy, Sir Benjamin.’ Nick grinned and carried both glasses over to the decanter. ‘Miss Shawcross seems a little agitated,’ he remarked. ‘I do hope my visit is not inopportune…’

Sir Benjamin chuckled. ‘Her feathers are ruffled because I omitted to tell her you were coming.’

‘I gathered that much.’ Nick smiled to himself as he recalled his first meeting with Evelina Shawcross. ‘I am afraid I might have ruffled her feathers even more.’

‘No matter, she’ll come round.’ Sir Benjamin sipped his brandy. ‘She’s a good gel, my granddaughter. Levelheaded and with as sweet a nature as any man could wish. She’s not the flighty sort, never shown any desire to go off exploring.’ The old man sighed a little. ‘Her mother was quite the opposite. Never happier than when she was travelling the world. Took my son off all over the place when they was married. But Eve’s different, a quiet gel. She needs a husband who can give her all the comforts she has enjoyed here at Makerham. A man who will look after her properly. Can you do that, Captain?’

Nick suddenly found himself fixed with a fierce stare from those faded eyes. He returned the look steadily.

‘You know my circumstances, Sir Benjamin. I believe I can keep a wife in tolerable comfort.’

‘Yes, yes, but will you make her happy?’

Nick fought down a smile.

‘I have never had any complaints yet, sir.’

‘That’s what worries me, a good-looking dog like you. I saw the women at Tunbridge making eyes at you, throwing out lures—and some of ’em old enough to know better!’

‘But what you didn’t see was my responding to any of their—er—lures,’ replied Nick evenly. ‘Let us be clear, Sir Benjamin. I am not a monk; there have been plenty of women in my life, but none of ’em more than a flirtation. If I take a wife, she will have nothing to fear on that score.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Well, sir, if you are wishful to marry my granddaughter, then go to it. But mind you; it must be her decision. I’ll not have her coerced into anything.’

Nick raised his glass.

‘From the little I have seen of the lady, sir, I think she will make up her own mind.’

When Eve went to her room to change for dinner, her maid Martha was laying out her new gown.

‘My blue silk?’ she exclaimed. ‘Is that not a little grand for a family dinner?’

‘We must make you look your best for your visitor, miss.’

‘I am not sure the occasion warrants such a display,’ Eve objected mildly, but Martha was not to be deterred.

‘Captain Wylder is a fine gentleman, miss. Son of an earl, his man says.’

‘I know that, Martha.’

‘Ah, but did you also know that he is a hero? In the Americas he was, fighting the rebels. Captain Wyldfire they called him.’ She spread out the petticoats for Eve to step into them.

‘Martha, what have I told you about repeating servants’ gossip?’

‘This is not gossip, miss,’ Martha corrected her; ‘It is information. He was a bold and fearless captain, Mr Granby told me, always to be found where the fighting was thickest. That’s where he got the name Wyldfire, they say, because he blazed his way through the enemy lines.’

‘And who says so? His own servants, I don’t doubt.’

‘Aye, well, Mr Granby told me some of it, but William the coachman also had it from his groom, who has been with the family for ever.’

Eve gave a little huff of disbelief. ‘I believe they are all besotted with their master. I shall write to my old school-friend Maria Scott—Lady Gryfford as she is now. Her letters are always full of society gossip so I am sure she will be able to furnish me with a true account of our guest.’

‘I am sure she will, miss,’ replied Martha comfortably. ‘And I am sure it will bear out all that has been said. Well, you only have to look at him, so tall and handsome as he is. A real hero, is Captain Wyldfire.’

‘Well there will be no need for him to be a hero in this house,’ retorted Eve crossly. She glanced at the red leather box on the dressing table. ‘What is that?’

‘Your sainted mother’s sapphires.’ replied Martha. ‘Sir Benjamin ordered them to be sent up to you. He wants you to wear them tonight.’

Eve put a hand up to her bare neck. ‘G-Grandpapa sent them?’

‘Why, yes, miss. Most insistent he was.’

She stared at the box. At last she said quietly, ‘Then, of course, I must wear them.’

Nick stood by the fireplace in the little parlour and looked down at the flames leaping merrily in the hearth. One of the logs had fallen forward; he resisted the temptation to push it back into place with his toe. Richard had worked hard to coax him into his dark blue frock-coat and the knee breeches that were the required mode of evening dress for a formal dinner and he knew his trusty servant would think his efforts wasted if he was to end up with wood ash on his soft leather shoes or, even worse, spattered on his white silk stockings. Instead he picked up the tongs and rearranged the logs until the flames were licking hungrily around them. He straightened as the door opened and Miss Shawcross entered. After their encounter on the drive he thought he had himself well under control, but it was an effort to prevent his jaw from dropping as he looked at her. She was a vision in cobalt blue and silver lace, her glorious hair piled on her head and one glossy black curl falling on to her shoulder. Nick smiled to himself; he had come to Makerham determined to court Evelina Shawcross, even if she had been hunchbacked and with a squint. This glorious creature was like a gift from the gods. She aroused in him all that was good—and bad! There was a troubled look on her face as she came into the room and he said hurriedly,

‘I understood this is where you meet before dinner…’

‘You are perfectly correct, sir. I am only sorry that there was no one here to greet you.’

He smiled.

‘You are here now, that is all that matters.’ He walked forwards to give her his arm. The sapphires around her neck twinkled, enhancing the beauty of that slender column. He longed to put up a hand and touch the creamy skin, but she was like a wild animal, tense and ready for flight. He must go carefully.

‘Miss Shawcross, you are not happy with me here.’

‘Oh—no, I—’

Her hand fluttered on his arm and he covered her fingers with his own. She was trembling.

‘Please,’ he murmured, ‘while we are alone let me say this. If you would prefer me to leave, I will make my excuses to Sir Benjamin—’

She stopped, her eyes downcast, the long lashes black against her pale cheeks. Nick watched the play of emotion on her countenance; saw the resolute set of her mouth.

‘You are my grandfather’s guest, sir. It is his will that you should stay, and to me his will is paramount.’

‘But I shall be guided by your wishes, lady. Tell me what you want me to do.’ He continued softly, ‘We made a wretched beginning. Forgive me for that, Miss Shawcross, and allow me to show you that I can be a gentleman.’

He saw the delicate blush tinge her cheeks, read the uncertainty in her eyes when she looked at him, then his gentleness was rewarded with a shy smile.

‘Very well, Captain Wylder, I am ready to be persuaded.’

There was a twinkle in those soft brown eyes, a hint of mischief. The temptation to steal another kiss was very strong, but he resisted. That would not be the action of a gentleman! Instead he escorted her to a sofa. He intended to sit down beside her, but as she sank down she spread out her blue skirts, completely covering the seat. With a wry grin he moved to a chair on the opposite side of the fireplace. It would be slow work to win her round, but he found himself warming to the challenge.

Evelina was aware of an irrational disappointment. She had been convinced that he was going to kiss her again, and her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of it. The man had about him an air of danger, a delicious sense of the unknown that set her pulse racing. But now he was determined to be the gentleman. She was glad of it, of course. She flounced down upon the sofa, her silken petticoats billowing around her.

‘Your grandfather explained to me that you and he live here alone,’ remarked the captain, lowering his long frame into a chair. ‘He told me your parents died when you were a child. I am very sorry.’

‘Thank you, but you do not need to pity me; it was more than ten years ago. My parents liked to travel a great deal and I was left at home with Grandpapa, so I never knew them that well; I think they were a very restless couple.’ His sympathetic silence encouraged her to say more. ‘It was a fever; they were on the Continent when they were struck down.’ She paused briefly then forced a smile. ‘But I am very happy living here with Grandpapa, I want for nothing.’

‘But you are very secluded here; do you not find it a little…lonely?’

‘Grandpapa is companion enough for me,’ she responded quickly. ‘I have no wish for female company—and I am beyond the age of needing a chaperon.’

The corners of his mouth lifted fractionally. ‘Remembering our first encounter, I beg to disagree with you on that last point, Miss Shawcross.’

Eve blushed hotly. She was relieved that her grandfather’s entrance created a timely diversion.

Sir Benjamin came in, leaning heavily on his stick and declaring that they should go directly into the dining room.

‘If I sit down here I shan’t be able to get up again,’ he explained with a chuckle. ‘No, no, my dear, I do not need your arm; let Wylder escort you.’

They processed slowly to the dining room, where Eve found herself sitting opposite Nick Wylder.

‘I told Green to rearrange the table,’ said Sir Benjamin, correctly interpreting her look of surprise. ‘Silly for you to be sitting at the far end and Wylder here, halfway between the two of us. Much better to have you near me, where I can see you both. Just a snug little dinner, Wylder,’ he continued. ‘We do not stand upon any ceremony here. It’s plain cooked fare, but you won’t find better in the county, and you have Evelina to thank for it.’

‘Grandpapa!’ She shook her head at him.

‘No need for this modesty, miss! It is only right that our guest knows what a treasure you are. She has been mistress here since she finished her schooling.’ Sir Benjamin laughed. ‘Just seventeen years old, she was then, Wylder. I wanted her to go off and stay with her young friends, to enjoy herself, but she would have none of it. She insisted upon coming home to live with me. Not that she needed to, for we have a very capable housekeeper in Mrs Harding, but Evelina was determined that she would look after me. And she has done so, magnificently.’

‘I do not doubt it,’ returned Captain Wylder. ‘And how many years has that been, sir?’

‘Seven,’ responded Sir Benjamin instantly.

While her grandfather turned his attention to his plate, Eve glared across the table at Nick Wylder. He met her look with a glinting smile.

‘Four-and-twenty,’ he murmured. ‘Far too old for a chaperon.’

‘Positively on the shelf!’ she retorted. Eve signalled to the footman to refill the glasses. ‘So, Captain, you were at Tunbridge Wells. Were you taking the waters?’ She added sweetly, ‘A touch of gout, perhaps?’

His eyes acknowledged the hit, but he said merely, ‘No, I was there on business.’

‘Oh? And is your business now concluded, that you have time for a prolonged stay here at Makerham?’

Again that wicked glint flashed in his deep blue eyes. ‘I hope to conclude my business while I am here.’

‘And just what is your business, sir?’ Eve picked up her wine glass.

‘Marriage.’

She choked.

‘Oh dear, dear,’ muttered Sir Benjamin. He bent a reproving look upon his guest. ‘I had not planned to broach this delicate subject for a day or so, sir.’

‘Then I apologise, Sir Benjamin, but given your granddaughter’s advanced years I did not wish to waste time.’

Evelina, still recovering from her choking fit, could only gasp. Sir Benjamin’s mouth fell open, then his face creased into a smile.

‘Ah, you are funning, sir! Giving my girl her own again, what? Eve, my dear, I think you have met your match, here. Captain Wylder is as big a jokesmith as yourself!’

Evelina forced her lips into a smile, but the look she threw at Nick Wylder promised dire retribution.

Nick turned his attention to his dinner. Damme, but he was enjoying himself, and far more than he had anticipated. Sir Benjamin was a considerate host and although he was confined to the house by his poor health he was remarkably knowledgeable and the conversation did not flag. Then there was Miss Shawcross. She was a mixture of spirit and adorable innocence; an unforeseen bonus to his plans. Nick realised with a little jolt of surprise that he wanted to know more about her.

Eve excused herself after dinner and went to her room to dash off a letter to her old school friend.

I understand Captain Wylder to be something of a hero, she wrote at the end her letter. But however highly he is regarded as a sailor, I hope you can furnish me with some information as to his character as a man. ‘There,’ she said to herself as she applied her seal. ‘If I know anything of Maria, she will be only too delighted to find out everything there is to know about Captain Nick Wylder.’

Sir Benjamin did not keep late hours at Makerham, so it was not until the following morning that she saw their guest again. It was her custom, upon summer mornings such as these to take a stroll through the ornamental gardens that surrounded Makerham. Sheltered and secluded at the bottom of a wooded dell, the moated manor house was always inviting, but looked at its best in summer. She loved the way the old stone seemed to glow and the golden sunlight twinkled in the leaded windows; it gave the old house a fairy-tale quality. She was wandering through the lavender-lined paths when she heard footsteps on the gravel behind her. She turned to find Captain Wylder approaching.

‘Good morning, Miss Shawcross. You are an early riser.’

‘Yes. I often take a walk at this time; the gardens are at their best with the dew still on the flowers.’

‘Then I will join you, if I may?’

After a brief hesitation Eve nodded. She would not take his arm, but walked along beside him, keeping a safe distance between them. At Nick’s request she pointed out the more unusual flowers and described to him the history of the building. When they reached the end of the ornamental gardens they stopped and turned, looking back at the old house.

‘It’s beautiful,’ said Nick. ‘It is clear that you love Makerham.’

‘It is my home.’

‘But it is entailed.’ At his words she glanced up at him and he spread his hands. ‘Your grandfather told me.’

‘Yes. When Grandfather dies the estate will pass to my cousin, Bernard Shawcross.’

‘And you will have to leave.’

Evelina thought of her cousin with his clammy hands and air of ownership. He seemed to assume that she was included in his inheritance. Eve knew she would do everything in her power to avoid that fate.

‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘I will have to leave.’ The chiming of the bell in the clock tower brought her head up. ‘It is time I went indoors. Grandfather will be coming downstairs shortly.’

Nick accompanied her back to the house, but any plans for furthering his suit were dashed when she announced that they would meet again at dinner.

‘But you will be breaking your fast now, Miss Shawcross?’

She shook her head. ‘Breakfast will be served to you and Grandpapa very shortly, Captain. I have arranged to walk into Makerham.’

‘Will you not wait for me? I should like to escort you.’

Again a little shake of the head. Nick was convinced there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

‘I go to take a little food to the poor in the village. They would not thank me for bringing a stranger into their homes. Grandpapa will be very pleased to have your company for the day,’ she added with a sunny smile. And I shall be happy to know that he is entertained.’

Nick watched her walk away, a little smile playing around his own mouth. Out-manoeuvred, by Gad. Miss Evelina Shawcross might be an innocent, but she was not unintelligent. To win her over would be a challenge. Nick’s smile grew.

He could never resist a challenge.

Chapter Two

‘Evelina, my love, you are being quite tiresome!’

Sir Benjamin’s mild reproof brought his granddaughter’s wide-eyed gaze to his face. They were sitting together in the morning room where Rooney had helped Sir Benjamin to his favourite chair and was tenderly placing a rug over his legs. Eve waited until the valet had finished and was making his way out of the room before she answered.

‘Grandpapa, I have no idea what you mean.’

‘What game is this you are playing, Eve? I bring Captain Wylder here as a suitor and you seem bent on avoiding him.’

‘No, no, Grandpapa, I have been most attentive!’

‘You have presided over my dinner table and served him tea in the drawing room after,’ retorted Sir Benjamin. ‘Hardly effusive behaviour, my love. I understand from Rooney that you are gone from the house before breakfast every day and do not return until late in the afternoon. Are there suddenly so many distressed families in Makerham that require your attendance?’

‘The summer has brought on a deal of sickness and ague, sir.’

‘Then you must send Martha with a basket of food, child. I will not have you neglect our guest.’

Eve cast down her eyes. ‘Yes Grandpapa.’ She stole a glance at Sir Benjamin and saw he was frowning at her. She put out her hands. ‘Oh, sir, pray do not be angry with me. It is such a novelty to have any man save yourself in the house and it is taking me a little time to grow accustomed.’

She might have added that she found her grandfather’s guest far too attractive for her comfort, but decided against it.

‘Well I consider four days is long enough for you to grow accustomed, as you put it. I don’t say that the captain isn’t excellent company, but it’s not me that he has come here to see. If you continue to absent yourself, he will think you do not like him.’

‘It is not that, Grandpapa—’

‘My dear child, I know this is very sudden for you. When I took you to Tunbridge Wells a few years ago I had hoped that you might form an alliance, but none of the gentlemen took your fancy, and you could not be persuaded to stay with your friends in London—’

‘I could not leave you, Grandpapa,’ she said quickly. ‘You were ill and I wanted to look after you.’

He patted her hands. ‘Your heart is too kind, Eve my love, but I should have made you go; imprisoned here with me, you have no opportunity to meet eligible gentlemen.’

‘But I have not been unhappy, sir.’

‘That is not the point, Evelina,’ Sir Benjamin leaned forwards, saying urgently, ‘I am growing weaker, my love. When I am gone there will be no one to protect you. Your cousin inherits Makerham, there is nothing to be done about that, but I do not like him. I have seen the way he looks at you when he is here. I would not have you left to his care.’

She shivered at the thought. ‘You are right, Grandpapa, I do not think I should like that.’

‘So you will consider Captain Wylder’s suit?’

‘Yes, Grandpapa. If he should offer for me, I will consider his suit.’ Eve smiled. She had made up her mind that she would not relax her guard until she had received word from London about Captain Wylder. Now, with her friend Maria’s letter nestling in her pocket, she had decided upon a course of action. ‘I am sorry if I have not been as attentive to our guest as you would like, Grandpapa. I promise you I am now quite ready to entertain Captain Wylder. In fact,’ she added with a twinkle, ‘I will start this very day!’

Nick looked up from the letter he was reading as Richard Granby came into the room.

‘Bad news, Captain?’

Nick shook his head.

‘No news at all,’ he said. ‘Our quarry has gone to ground.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Granby hesitated and then said delicately, ‘And, if I might enquire, how are your plans progressing with the young lady?’

Nick tossed the letter aside. ‘They are not,’ he said shortly. ‘I am wondering if we should weigh anchor and try another tack. The admiralty wants answers and there are other leads to follow…’ his lips twitched ‘…though none so attractive.’

A knock at the door interrupted them. Nick hurriedly took up his letter and put it away while Granby answered the door. He heard a murmur of voices and turned to see his valet approaching, a folded paper in his hand.

‘A note for you, Captain.’

‘Well.’ A slow grin appeared as he read the missive. ‘Perhaps all is not lost. Miss Shawcross wants to see me. In the garden.’

Nick strode along the gravelled paths until he reached the yew walk. At the far end was a small clearing where a statue of Pan nestled against the surrounding hedge. On either side white-painted benches had been placed for those who wished to rest for a while in this sheltered retreat. Evelina was sitting on one of the benches, reading a letter. As Nick approached she looked up and gave a slight smile. He bowed.

‘You wished to talk to me, Miss Shawcross?’

She gestured towards the opposite bench and Nick sat down.

‘I did indeed, sir.’ Her soft brown eyes rested upon him. ‘You said at our very first meeting that you came here to marry me. Is that truly your intention?’

‘A direct attack,’ he said approvingly. ‘I like that.’

‘You have not answered my question, Captain.’

‘Then, yes. It is indeed my intention, Misss Shawcross.’

Her gaze did not falter. ‘Why?’

Nick’s brows rose. This was blunt indeed. ‘It is time I settled down. My family has been nagging me to do so ever since I came home from sea.’

‘But you know nothing about me.’

He smiled at her. ‘You are beautiful, witty, accomplished—and Sir Benjamin assures me you are an excellent housekeeper. Is that not enough?’

She dropped her gaze, a delicate flush mantling her cheek. ‘But you knew nothing about me when you sought out my grandfather at Tunbridge Wells.’

She raised her eyes again and Nick hesitated. How much should he tell her?

‘I did go to Tunbridge in search of Sir Benjamin,’ he admitted. ‘I planned merely to renew my family’s acquaintance with him. It soon became clear to me that Sir Benjamin was looking for a husband for you.’ A smile tugged at his lips. ‘He seemed to think I might be a suitable candidate.’

‘Do you mean that he suggested it?’ She looked shocked. ‘And you agreed to…to…’

He spread his hands, saying apologetically, ‘This seemed an opportunity not to be missed. I am glad now that I came.’

For a moment she looked delightfully flustered, but she soon recovered. ‘Very well, sir.’ She settled herself more comfortably on the bench and glanced at the papers in her hand. ‘Grandpapa may consider you suitable, but you have yet to convince me! I would like to ask you a few questions.’

Nick leaned back and crossed one booted leg over the other. ‘I am at your disposal, ma’am.’

‘We have already established that you are a sailor, and, one cannot deny it, a brave one.’

‘Thank you,’ he said meekly.

‘But you have something of a reputation in town, Captain.’ She stared down at the letter. ‘Last year your name was linked with a Mrs Stringham.’

He blinked. The chit had been checking up on him!

‘We were…friends for a few months, yes.’

‘I understand she is a lady with a somewhat tarnished reputation.’ She shrugged. ‘No doubt much more interesting for you than an ingénue.’

He choked, but she did not seem to notice and was again peering at her list.

‘Then there was Lady Alton.’

‘What of her?’ he asked warily.

‘She was your mistress, was she not? You look shocked, Captain Wylder. I thought you liked the direct attack.’

Nick sat up. By heaven, the wench was teasing him! ‘May I ask how you came by this information, Miss Shawcross?’

She held the letter to her breast. ‘You may ask, but I shall not divulge my sources.’

He leaned forward. ‘And what else do your…sources…say of me?’

She studied the sheets of paper again. ‘Well, there was Miss Brierley from Rochester, many people thought you might offer for her.’

‘What, because I took her driving in the park?’

‘Apparently so,’ she murmured, not raising her eyes from her letter. ‘And Dorothy Chate, the actress, not to mention the opera dancers—’

‘I would much rather we did not mention the opera dancers!’

She regarded him sternly. ‘Since quitting the navy, your life seems to have been one of dissipation, sir.’

He tried to look remorseful. ‘Alas, I am very much in need of a wife to keep me in order.’

‘I am not at all sure that anyone could keep you in order, Captain Wylder. Are you saying that if we were to marry you would give up your dissolute ways?’

‘I would try.’

He gave her a soulful look and noted with satisfaction the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She was having difficulty keeping her countenance.

‘I am not at all sure that I believe you.’

‘I fear I am in need of an occupation.’

She turned the page. ‘My correspondent tells me that you have an occupation.’

Nick froze. Now how the devil did she know that?

‘Or you should have one; you should be managing your properties in the north, Captain Wylder, not wasting your time in idle pursuits.’

He breathed again. ‘I would not call looking for a wife an idle pursuit.’

‘Captain Wylder,’ she said seriously, ‘I am not at all sure I am the wife for you.’

‘Miss Shawcross, the more I know of you the more I am convinced that you are the perfect wife for me!’

‘But I am not at all worldly. What I mean is…’ She blushed again, looking so adorable that he wanted to cross the space between them and take her in his arms. ‘What would happen when you grew tired of me?’

When he did not respond she said quietly, ‘I am not quite as naïve as you might think, Captain. I know my parents’ marriage was unusual; they were so much in love they did everything together, as equals.’ She gave a sad little smile. ‘They even died together. I do not expect that, but…’

Nick half-rose from his seat, then sank back down again. He knew that any attempt to comfort her was more likely to frighten her away. ‘But what, Miss Shawcross?’

The colour flared in her cheeks, but she was determined on her course. Her words were almost inaudible. ‘I w-would not want to share you with a mistress.’

Nick took a deep breath. By heaven, he admired her bravery. Now he must honour it with an honest reply. ‘Miss Shawcross, whatever else you may have heard about me, pray believe that I am a gentleman. If we were to marry, I give you my word you would always be treated with respect, and I would do my best to make you happy. I can promise you that I have no mistress hidden away.’ He laughed suddenly. ‘Now what is that look, do you not believe me?’

She glared at him. ‘I do not think you understand, sir.’

‘Then perhaps you can explain.’

He sat back, as she threw him another scorching look. He felt more sure of his ground when she was angry with him.

‘I have always expected Grandpapa to arrange my marriage for me, but I thought it would be a local gentleman. Someone…’

‘Someone safe and staid and boring,’ he put in helpfully.

‘Well…yes.’

He spread his hands. ‘Even the most upright country gentlemen take mistresses, you know.’

‘But they are less likely to have women falling at their feet,’ she retorted. She brandished her letter. ‘My correspondent tells me the ladies in town find you fatally attractive.’

‘Does she indeed?’

‘How do you know it is a woman?’

‘I have an instinct for these things. Does your correspondent find me fatally attractive, too?’

‘Captain Wylder I do not think you are taking this seriously.’

‘But I am! And your grandfather has already spoken to me of this.’

‘He—he has?’

‘Yes.’ Her consternation made him smile. ‘It is a question that would occur to any loving guardian. I have already assured him that, if I take a wife, she will have nothing to fear on that score.’ He paused. ‘Sir Benjamin approves of me, you know. Will you not at least consider my suit?’

She held his eyes for a moment, then folded her papers and put them into her reticule. ‘Yes, Captain Wylder, I will consider it,’ she said quietly. ‘But it is not a decision to be taken lightly.’

‘No, of course not.’

‘Thank you for being so frank with me, Captain.’

As she rose he jumped up and reached for her hand, carrying her fingers to his lips.

‘I hope we understand one another now, Miss Shawcross.’

‘I am not sure.’ She regarded him with a tiny crease between her brows. ‘I still do not understand why you should want to marry me, but we will let that pass, for now.’ She withdrew her fingers and, with a slight, regal nod of her head, she turned and walked away from him.

Eve returned to her room, her mind going over and over her interview with Captain Wylder. He had not denied any of the liaisons Maria Gryfford had detailed in her letter, but he had looked wary. Were there even more lovers that she did not know of? Eve realised she did not care how many lovers he might have had in the past; only the present and the future concerned her. A line from Lady Gryfford’s letter flitted through her mind; If the dashing Captain Wyldfire has made you an offer, then snap him up immediately, my dearest Eve. We are all mad for him! But why should he want to marry her? He did not look like the sort of man who would marry merely to please his family. But then, she had been brought up to believe she would marry to please her grandfather. Were they so very different? She put her arms around herself. It was a big decision, to leave the safety of the only home she had ever known and put herself under the protection of Nick Wylder. After all, what did she know of him? Did she trust him?

‘Yes,’ she said aloud. ‘Yes, I do. Perhaps I should not, but I do.’

‘Your pardon, Miss Eve, did you say something?’

Martha came bustling into the room.

‘What? Oh, no, no. I was merely talking to myself. Is it time to dress for dinner already? I think I will wear my blue gown again tonight, Martha.’

‘Ah, you want to look your best for the captain, is that it?’

‘Do not be so impertinent!’

Eve frowned at her handmaiden, but Martha had been part of her household since Eve had been a baby and was not so easily snubbed.

‘Well, what else is one to think, when you and he have been in the garden together this afternoon?’

‘Who told you that?’

Martha shrugged. ‘Mr Granby mentioned it…’

‘How dare you gossip about me!’

‘Lord love you, Miss Eve, we wasn’t gossiping. Mr Granby just happened to mention it in passing. Heavens, miss, how you do take one up. And what does it matter anyway, since you are going to wed him—’

‘Martha! Who says so?’

The maid stared at her. ‘Well, is it not so?’

‘No. Yes—that is…’ She dropped down on the bed, crying, ‘Oh, Martha I do not know what to do!’

‘Don’t you want to marry the captain?’

Eve spread her hands. ‘I must marry someone.’

‘And the captain is very handsome, miss.’

Eve felt herself blushing. ‘Yes he is. Very handsome.’

And exciting, and witty: Eve had never felt so attracted to any man before. Not that she had much experience, one short visit to Tunbridge Wells being the nearest she had ever been to entering society, but she had read lots of books. She knew exactly what a hero should be like, and although the gentlemen she had met at Tunbridge had all fallen well short of her expectations, she was forced to admit that Nick Wylder was the embodiment of her secret dreams. The thought was a little frightening.

‘Well, if you’ll be guided by me, you will listen to Sir Benjamin and do as he bids you, miss,’ Martha advised her. ‘He has never let you down yet.’

‘I know, Martha, but this is…marriage.’ She whispered the word, suddenly nervous of it and the thoughts it conjured.

‘Lord love you, that is just the time to be advised by your grandpapa,’ said Martha cheerfully. ‘If Sir Benjamin thinks the captain is the right man for you, then so it is, and a sight better catch than your cousin Bernard,’ she added, suddenly serious. ‘And that’s who you’ll end up with if the master dies and leaves you alone. I’ve seen ’im sniffing round you when he’s been here on a visit.’

‘Stop it, Martha.’ Eve shuddered. ‘Besides, I have heard that my cousin is hanging out for a rich wife.’

‘Aye, well, maybe he is,’ opined Martha darkly. ‘But that won’t stop him trying to get you between the sheets, with or without a wedding ring!’

With this dire warning she went off to fetch Eve’s gown, leaving her mistress to stare after her.

By the time she went down to dinner Eve was no closer to making a decision, but she was too well-bred to let her inner turmoil show and she greeted Sir Benjamin and the captain with her usual calm smile. Despite her assured performance in the garden that afternoon she was a little nervous of meeting Nick again, but his polite, gentle friendliness soon put her at her ease. However, Sir Benjamin’s suggestion after dinner that the young people should take a stroll in the garden while it was still light threw her into a panic.

‘An excellent idea,’ murmured Nick, his eyes glinting, but not unkindly. ‘Come, Miss Shawcross, indulge me in a little walk.’ He leaned closer and murmured. ‘It need be nothing more, I promise you.’

Feeling the hot blood in her cheeks, she hurried away to fetch her wrap and returned to find only Nick waiting for her in the hall.

‘Sir Benjamin has retired,’ he informed her as she came down the stairs towards him. ‘He asked that you go up to see him when we come back in.’ He held out his arm to her. ‘Shall we walk? You need not worry,’ he added, seeing her hesitation. ‘We shall talk of the most unexceptional subjects, if you like.’

His understanding calmed her jangled nerves. She put her hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the house.

At first they discussed the weather, then books and music, but when they had strolled past the parterre and into the shrubbery, Nick said suddenly, ‘I think, Miss Shawcross, that I owe you an apology.’ She glanced up at him and he continued, ‘It seems Sir Benjamin truly did not prepare you for my visit.’

She flushed. ‘This is not the unexceptional topic you promised me, Captain.’

‘I know, but you are very reserved with me tonight. You are trying to make up your mind whether or not to marry me, is that not so?’

‘Of course not!’ she exclaimed, startled. ‘It is…’ She trailed off. ‘To be truthful with you, yes,’ she admitted.

He stopped and turned to her, catching at her hands. ‘And what is so difficult about that decision, Miss Shawcross?’

He lifted her hand to his lips and began to kiss her fingers, one by one. She watched, transfixed.

‘I, um…’

He lifted her other hand and, when he had finished with her fingers, his lips moved on to her wrist, sending a fiery shock the length of her arm.

‘I cannot think,’ she confessed.

He raised his head and smiled at her. Eve’s fingers were still tingling and she found herself staring at his mouth, wondering at the havoc his lips could cause. The smile in his eyes deepened. He cupped her chin.

‘Sometimes it is best not to think,’ he murmured and gently brought his mouth down upon hers.

It was the lightest of kisses, a mere brushing of lips, but it sent Eve’s senses reeling and as Nick pulled away her face remained upturned, inviting him to kiss her again. He gazed down at her.

‘A young lady should not allow a gentleman to kiss her unless she means to marry him,’ he murmured.

‘Then perhaps you have made my decision for me,’ she replied.

He laughed, pulled her hand back on to his arm and they resumed their stroll.

‘I shall not coerce you into this, Miss Shawcross; it must be your decision.’

‘It is in truth my grandfather’s decision,’ she told him. ‘Or at least, his wish. But your assumption was correct, Captain. He did not mention you were coming.

I should not be surprised by it, however. He always said that one day he would bring home a husband for me.’ She sighed. ‘I never really believed him.’

‘Surely he has not kept you locked away here all these years?’ He sounded slightly shocked and she gave a little gurgle of laughter.

‘Like a princess in a fairy-tale? No, of course not. I have attended assemblies in Makerham village upon occasion. And I went to Tunbridge a few years ago.’

‘Then of course you know all you need to know about the world!’

‘I know enough to realise that I am very happy to remain here at Makerham. Everything I want is here.’

‘Is it? Do you never long to know what is going on outside these walls?’

‘There are the news sheets—’

‘That is not the same! There are towns and cities—whole countries waiting to be explored. Does that thought not fill you with excitement?’

The thought filled Evelina with dread. She stepped away from him to cup a particularly lovely rose between her fingers, breathing in its fragrance while she formulated her answer. Apart from one or two early memories of life with her parents and a few brief years at school, Makerham was the only world she had ever known. Outside was alien and full of danger, like the infection that had carried off her parents. Her life here at Makerham was safe, secure; the thought of her cousin taking possession was something she did not want to consider.

‘I am very happy here,’ she said again.

Nick strolled along beside Evelina, his hands clasped firmly behind his back to prevent them reaching out and pulling her into his arms. He had never known such a glorious summer’s evening; bees hummed around the plants and the scent of lavender filled the air. Then there was Evelina herself; she was beautiful, but there was an air of calm about her, serenity. It was like finding a safe harbour after stormy weeks at sea. When he had sought out Sir Benjamin at Tunbridge Wells he had already formulated his plans; if he needed to marry to obtain his ends, then he was prepared to do his duty, but never had he expected duty to be quite so pleasurable.

He stopped and gently turned her to face him. ‘I understand how much you love Makerham, but could you consider living elsewhere?’

‘I think I must, sir, since the house will pass to my cousin when Grandpapa dies.’

‘That is not quite what I meant. Sir Benjamin brought me here as a prospective husband for you. I am not sure what he has told you about me…’

‘Only that your father was an earl: that is looking pretty high for a baronet’s daughter.’ Her lilting smile jolted his senses. It took all his will-power not to drag her into his arms and cover her face with kisses, but he needed to talk to her.

‘Evelina—Eve, from our discussions this afternoon you know I have not led a blameless life, but I told you that will change when I take a wife. I have a comfortable income and two estates in the north. I can afford to give you a Season in town every year, should you wish it. You will have your own carriage and we could buy a property nearer Makerham, closer to your grandfather, if that is what you want.’

‘Captain Wylder, this is too soon!’

He put a finger against her lips. ‘Perhaps, but I do everything in a hurry, my dear; as soon as I saw you I knew that I wanted to wed you.’ He saw the confusion in her face and stopped. He drew away a little, took a breath and said gently, ‘You need not answer immediately. I merely want you to understand what I am offering you.’

There was a slight shadow in her eyes as she looked up at him. ‘That is all very well, Captain, but I do not understand what I can offer you.’

He hesitated, then said lightly, ‘I believe that you bring with you your mother’s property at Monkhurst.’

She laughed. ‘A rundown house on the edge of Romney Marsh! I love it, and spent some happy times there as a child, but no one has lived there since Mama and Papa died. It is a poor dowry, Captain Wylder. I fear I will get the best of this bargain, sir!’

His spirit soared. She was almost his, he could read it in her eyes. A dizzying happiness shook him. He ran his hands down her arms and caught her fingers.

‘No, Eve, I think I will have a great deal more than I bargained for!’

Eve stared at the dark head bent over her hands. This could not be happening to her; when she was at school she had read novels of handsome knights carrying off damsels in distress, but that was fantasy. Besides, she was not in distress. Or was she? She was twenty-four years old and she had never found anyone she would like to marry, nor was she likely to meet anyone while she lived in such seclusion. Her grandfather was much weaker than he had been even a few months ago. If he should die while she was still unmarried, then what would become of her? The vision of her cousin filled her mind. She had never liked Bernard, sensing in his nature a cruel streak that made her a little afraid of him. And now here was this handsome, dashing sea captain offering her his hand and he came with her grandfather’s blessing. There really was no choice.

Eve realised Nick was looking at her with a steady, unsettling gaze. She needed to say something. ‘How soon do you wish to be married, Captain Wylder?’

Goodness, how matter of fact she sounded.

‘By the end of the month.’

‘The end of the—!’

‘Why, yes, I see no reason to rush into this with a special licence. We have time for the banns to be read in church. We shall be married here, of course. I have no doubt that is what you would like—’

‘But I haven’t agreed to it yet!’

With a laugh he pulled her into his arms. ‘No, but you will.’

He was grinning down at her. Eve found it difficult to concentrate, her thoughts seemed to centre on the dimple in his left cheek.

‘Wh-what will Grandpapa say to such a hasty marriage?’

‘Oh I think he will agree.’ He kissed her, a sizzling, burning kiss that sent shockwaves tingling right down to her toes. ‘What say you, Eve, will you be my wife?’

‘But—’ She tried to collect her wayward thoughts. ‘We have only just met!’

‘And we have more than three weeks until the wedding to get to know one another.’ He kissed her again. ‘Well?’

She struggled out of his arms. ‘No, no. It is out of the question,’ she said crossly. ‘You appear out of nowhere, big and brash and—and totally overwhelming, and you expect me to agree to be your wife! No, sir, I will not do it!’

He dropped to his knees before her, throwing his arms wide. ‘Evelina, don’t you want to marry me?’

She clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle a giggle. ‘Get up, sir, before someone sees you!’

‘Not until you answer my question.’

Evelina stared at him. His blue eyes twinkled and that irrepressible dimple cut into his cheek. Heavens, was the man never serious?

‘Well, Evelina; will you give me your answer?’

A stillness settled over the garden. The birds were silent, not a breath of wind stirred the bushes; the whole world was hushed, waiting for her reply. Suddenly she knew that there was nothing she wanted more than to be married to Nick Wylder.

‘Very well,’ she said quietly. ‘I will marry you.’

Chapter Three

‘Oh heavens, what have I done?’

Evelina paced about her bedroom, her clasped hands pressed to her mouth. The arrival at Makerham of a prospective husband should not have come as a surprise, her grandfather had told her often that he would find her a suitor and she had told him that she would abide by his judgement. But she had not expected that gentleman to be so dazzlingly attractive as Captain Wylder, nor had she foreseen that he would propose to her upon such short acquaintance. Even more extraordinary was the fact that she had accepted him!

Eve paused by the window. The last remnants of daylight had disappeared and the glass reflected her image like a dark mirror. She had always considered herself a sensible, level-headed young woman, so what madness had possessed her, standing in the garden with the heady scent of summer roses in the air, to accept his proposal?

‘No, no, it will not do,’ she said aloud, resuming her perambulations. ‘Tomorrow I must tell him I have changed my mind—not changed my mind,’ she amended. ‘Merely that I want a little more time to think over his proposal.’

She climbed into bed and snuffed out her candle, satisfied that she had resolved upon a very sensible course of action.

‘Hell and damnation we’re in the suds now.’ Nick shrugged himself out of his coat and tossed it to his valet. ‘I had not planned this, Richard!’

‘I thought the whole point of coming here was to propose to the young lady,’ murmured Granby, folding the coat and laying it tenderly over a chair.

‘Yes, of course, but I behaved like a veritable mooncalf!’

‘But I understand Miss Shawcross has accepted your offer, Captain.’

‘Aye, she has.’ Nick slumped down into a chair and gave a heavy sigh.

‘Then I wish you happy, sir.’

‘Damn your impudence! This wasn’t meant to happen—or only as a last resort.’ A wry smile tugged at one side of his mouth. ‘The truth of it is she’s bowled me over, Dick. She floored me with the very first glance from those great brown eyes and I haven’t recovered since.’

‘Her maid tells me Miss Shawcross is a very accomplished young lady.’

‘Aye, so she is. The wonder is that she wasn’t snapped up years ago.’

‘Martha—that’s her maid, Captain—Martha says that she’s lived here very quietly since she finished her schooling. Sir Benjamin’s health being so poor they have never been in the habit of entertaining.’

Nick gave a short laugh. ‘So she’s been waiting here all these years, like a Sleeping Beauty! But the devil of it is I’m no Prince Charming.’

A ghost of a smile flitted across Richard Granby’s impassive features. ‘If you’ll pardon me, sir, I think there’s plenty of ladies would disagree with you there.’

Nick waved his hand impatiently. ‘What if she finds out why I am really here?’

‘Perhaps you should tell her.’

‘Damn it all, Richard, what would she think of me, marrying her to get control of her property? No, I’ll keep my own counsel. After all, another few weeks and this business will be finished, so there’s no reason for Miss Evelina Shawcross to know anything about it.’ Nick ran a hand through his hair. ‘But I do not like the idea of rushing her into this marriage. Mayhap we will merely go through the ceremony. After all, I shall need to get back to the coast almost as soon as the wedding is over. That way, if she finds she really cannot stomach me—’

‘If you’ll forgive me saying so, Captain, whenever your liaisons have finished it’s rarely been the lady’s choice to end it.’

‘Aye, but Miss Shawcross is different.’ He pushed himself out of the chair and stretched. ‘Look out my nightgown, if you please, Richard. It must be well after midnight by now and time I—’ He broke off, frowning. ‘Now what the devil is the matter?’

From the corridor outside his room came the sound of urgent whispers and hurrying footsteps. Nick strode over to the door and flung it open. Sir Benjamin’s valet was making his way along the passage and by the glow of the lamp he was holding aloft Nick observed that his coat was unbuttoned and his hair tousled, as if he had been roused untimely from his bed. Nick stepped out into his path.

‘Well, Rooney, what’s amiss?’ he demanded.

‘It’s the master sir. He’s had one of his turns.’

‘Can I be of help—can Granby ride for a doctor?’

‘Thank you, Captain, but no. I’ve already despatched a groom to fetch Dr Scott. If you will excuse me, sir, I must get back to Sir Benjamin. Miss Eve is with him, but I do not like to be away for too long.’

‘Of course.’ Nick stepped aside and, after watching the valet hurry out of sight, went back into his room.

‘Is it the old gentleman sir?’ asked Granby. ‘I heard he was very down pin.’

‘Yes, he is. Go along and see if there is anything we can do, Richard. Sir Benjamin’s man is reluctant to trouble me, but he may be more forthcoming to you.’

Having despatched his man, Nick found himself alone. Silence settled around him but it did nothing to relieve his anxiety. He was a guest in the house, but it was unthinkable that he would sleep while Eve was sitting up with her grandfather. He snatched up his coat. There must be something he could do.

When Eve left Sir Benjamin’s room her eyes were gritty with lack of sleep. She held aloft a bedroom candlestick to light her way through the dark passages and down the stairs. The arch leading to the great hall glowed with a welcoming light and as she moved forwards she could see that the fire had been built up and several candles burned brightly in the wall sconces. Nick Wylder was bending over the fire, stirring a large black pan that seemed to be balanced precariously amongst the flames. He straightened and turned as he heard her approaching footsteps.

‘I was told that you were here, Captain.’ She nodded towards the fireplace. ‘I doubt anyone has cooked upon that fire for generations.’

‘Punch,’ he said, smiling. ‘Nothing like it for restoring the spirits in the middle of the night.’

‘I am sorry if we woke you.’

‘No need, I was not asleep.’ He reached out for her hand and led her to the settle on one side of the hearth. ‘How is Sir Benjamin?’

‘Quieter now. Grandfather panics when an attack comes on and he cannot get his breath, but Dr Scott always calms him.’

She sat for a moment, staring into the flames.

‘I hope you do not mind, I built up the fire. It is summer, I know, but somehow a good blaze always seems more comforting at times like these.’

‘It does, thank you, but you should not have had to do that.’

He waved his hand dismissively.

‘Your servants are busy with their master. I would not add to their load.’ He turned back to the cooking pot and ladled some of its contents into a cup. ‘Here, try this.’

She curled her fingers around the warm cup. She had not realised how cold she had become. A sweet, pungent aroma rose from the liquid and her eyes widened.

‘Rum.’ Nick grinned. ‘Try it.’

Cautiously she took a sip. It was warm and sweet with a fiery bite that made her cough, but it was strangely comforting. Nick was watching her and she managed a small smile.

‘Thank you. That is just what I need. Perhaps we should offer some to Dr Scott before he leaves.’

‘Of course. Are these attacks a regular occurrence?’

‘They have been more frequent in recent months.’

‘I did not realise Sir Benjamin was so ill.’

‘He hides it well. He does not like people to fuss over him.’ She read the question in his eyes and her gaze dropped to the cup clutched between her hands. ‘The attacks weaken his heart. The doctor says we must be prepared…’ She did not trust her voice to continue so she sipped at the punch. When she looked up again Nick was watching her, such kind concern in his face that she found herself smiling at him. ‘Perhaps now you understand why Grandpapa is so eager to see me settled,’ she said, handing him back the empty cup. ‘He worries so about what is to become of me when he is gone.’

He sat down beside her on the settle. ‘Then at least I can relieve his mind on that account, and perhaps on another.’ He reached for her hands. ‘When we are married we need not remove to Yorkshire immediately. I think you would prefer to remain near your grandfather.’

His words allayed her barely acknowledged anxiety. She fixed her eyes on his face.

‘Truly, you would not mind if we lived here for a little while?’

‘Truly. I have an excellent steward who has managed my affairs for a good many years; he will cope for a little while longer.’

‘Thank you.’ Her relief and gratitude were palpable. Without thinking she leaned towards him and he enfolded her in his arms. It is, she thought, nestling her head contentedly against his shoulder, like coming home after a long and tiring journey.

Nick rested his cheek against her hair, breathing in the sweet, flowery fragrance. She felt so fragile, so delicate within his arms that he was afraid to hold her too tightly lest she should fracture. His heart ached. He wanted not only to possess this dainty creature but to protect her. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and not altogether comfortable.

They remained locked together in companionable silence for several minutes while the long case clock ticked steadily and logs crackled in the fireplace. He wondered if now was the time to talk to her, to take her into his confidence. He held his peace. It was government business, not his to share. She was so fragile that he did not want to add more worries to her slender shoulders. Besides, in a few more weeks it would all be settled.

Chapter Four

‘Dearly beloved, we are gathered here…’

The little church at Makerham was packed. Evelina stood, eyes modestly lowered, and wondered how she had come to this. A month ago there had been no thought of marriage in her head, then Nick Wylder had ridden into her life and changed it for ever. A month ago she had not known of his existence; now she could not imagine life without him.

With the exception of a few days when he had been obliged to go to town on business, Nick had been her constant companion at Makerham Court. They rode through sun-dappled lanes, walked in the gardens and in the evenings they played cards with Sir Benjamin, or Eve would sit in the corner with her embroidery while the two men talked or played backgammon together. Nick’s energetic presence filled the house. Eve woke every morning with a little thrill of anticipation, knowing he would be waiting for her. They talked for hours, although she had little recollection of what they talked about. Occasionally they would argue, and it would end with Nick pulling her into his arms and kissing her. She had never known such happiness. It was especially gratifying to see her grandfather’s approval of her future husband and not even the business of the marriage contract upset this happy state of affairs; Sir Benjamin talked to Eve with smug satisfaction about jointures and settlements and Eve did not press him for details: it was enough for her that he was happy.

And now they were in Makerham church, standing side by side, exchanging marriage vows. A fairy-tale. Some might say it was too good to be true. Eve had to keep pinching herself to believe in her good fortune. Nick’s brother, the Earl of Darrington, came to act as his groomsman. Eve thought he looked rather disapproving, but his greeting was kindly enough and he even kissed her hand when she came out of the church on her husband’s arm. Her husband. A frisson of excitement trembled through her.

‘So, you are my sister now.’ The earl smiled, lightening his rather sombre expression and all at once looking much more like Nick. ‘Welcome to the family, my dear Evelina. I look forward to the day when I can welcome you to Wylderbeck Hall. It is a long way north, but Nick will tell you it is well worth the journey. I wish it was not necessary for me to leave immediately after the wedding breakfast, but so it is; if Nick had given us more notice of your nuptials we would have had time to become acquainted—’

‘And have you cut me out, brother?’ put in Nick. ‘I wanted to make sure of my lady first!’

The earl’s smile was a little strained.

‘Take care of her, Nick. And bring her north very soon, that she may meet the rest of the clan.’

‘I should like that, my lord.’ Eve cast a questioning look at Nick.

‘I will bring her to you as soon as I can, brother. Our plans are a little uncertain for the moment; we will be staying at Makerham for a few weeks yet.’

‘My grandfather’s health is not good,’ explained Eve. ‘The wedding has been a great effort for him, although he was determined it should be held here.’

Nick put his hand over hers. ‘I said I would not take you away from Makerham until he is better. You have my word on that.’

She nodded and leaned against him, drawing comfort from his presence at her side. They both knew there was little chance of her grandfather growing stronger. She did not wish to consider the more likely outcome, but it was there, unspoken, and Nick understood. The message was in his eyes now as he looked at her. They would not leave Makerham while Sir Benjamin had need of her.

‘I am only sorry that more of your family could not be present,’ she said later, when they were standing at the entrance to Makerham Court, ready to receive their guests at the wedding breakfast.

‘Do not be,’ laughed Nick. ‘They would have turned our little celebration into a riotous occasion! Darrington is the serious one, the rest of them are rakes and rabble-rousers, as you will see when I take you to Yorkshire to meet them!’

‘I am sure they are not as bad as you make out. Indeed, there are some from my own family that I would as lief not see here,’ she murmured, directing his attention to a tall, heavy-browed gentleman who was approaching them. She raised her head, saying more loudly, ‘Captain, may I introduce to you my cousin, Mr Bernard Shawcross?’

Mr Shawcross swept off his hat and made such a deep bow that his nose almost touched his knees.

‘We have met in town, Cousin. Let me tell you, Captain Wylder, that you have stolen the march on me, it was always my desire to wed my lovely Cousin Evelina.’

She gave him a honey-sweet smile. ‘A pity then that you did not apprise me of the fact, Cousin.’

‘Ah, but I did not wish to deprive Sir Benjamin of his most devoted companion,’ came the smooth reply.

‘Oh?’ she murmured, ‘from the number of times I have read your name in the society columns of the London newspapers I thought you were far too busy chasing heiresses to think of me. A pity that you have been unsuccessful thus far, Bernard.’ His mouth tightened in displeasure and her smile widened.

‘Mere gossip, Evelina,’ he replied shortly. ‘I am surprised you should take note of such tittle tattle.’

‘And have you come directly from town today, sir?’ asked Nick.

Bernard Shawcross shook his head. ‘I am currently staying with friends near the coast. I regret, Cousin, that I have engagements there I cannot break and will be returning to Sussex in the morning. I shall leave you my direction, in case you need me.’

‘Thank you, Bernard, but I can’t think that we shall ever need you,’ she murmured wickedly. ‘However, let us not quarrel; I bid you welcome, Cousin. We are delighted that you have graced our wedding with your presence.’

‘It was the very least I could do, Evelina, even though the event has taken place with—er—indecent haste.’

Her smile widened at his obvious annoyance.

‘We are merely following Grandpa’s wishes,’ she returned, coolly. ‘Have you spoken to him yet? No? Then perhaps you should do so now, while he is free.’ She added quietly, as he turned on his heel and stalked away, ‘It would do you no harm to play the dutiful heir once in a while.’

Nick drew his breath in with a hiss. ‘Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you, madam wife,’ he murmured.

‘At one time Bernard was forever calling at Makerham, asking Grandpapa to advance him loans against his inheritance. Thankfully he has not called at all for the past year, so I can only suppose that he has learned to live within his means.’

‘That, or he has found an additional source of income,’ observed Nick. ‘You will note that his coat is of the very finest cut: such tailoring only comes at a price.’

‘I do not care how he comes by his money as long as he stays away from Makerham.’ Eve shuddered. ‘I cannot like him, his manner towards me has always been…possessive, and I dislike the way he fawns over Grandpapa, as though his well-being is his only concern, yet when he leaves he never writes to enquire after Grandpapa’s health—but perhaps I refine too much upon it.’

‘You need not concern yourself with your cousin any longer, sweetheart. I will not let him trouble you.’ Nick squeezed her fingers. ‘Come, my dear, our guests have all arrived now, I think we may take our places at table.’

They feasted in the great hall, which had been decorated for the occasion with garlands of summer flowers. Even though she was the bride, Eve was also the hostess and it was her duty to announce the wines for the diners and to direct their attention to the cold meat dishes and salads available on the sideboard. She also had to watch the servants to make sure no guest was neglected. With so much to do it there was little time for reflection. It was not until the meal was ending that she allowed herself to think about the coming night.

Her wedding night.

‘That went off very well, I think,’ declared Sir Benjamin as the last of the carriages drove away. ‘I do wish, however, that we had invited at least some of our people to stay here.’

Eve came to stand beside his chair.

‘You know we would not have been able to accommodate more than a few of our guests—and we should have been obliged to offer Bernard a room; you know how much you would dislike that.’

‘You are very right, my love. They will be a deal more comfortable at the White Hart. Ah, and here is Rooney come to take me to my room. Goodnight, my dear, Captain Wylder. Such a tiring day, I shall sleep well, I think.’

As she watched her grandfather leave the room, leaning heavily upon his valet’s arm, Eve knew a moment of panic. For the first time that day she was alone with her husband. There had been no awkwardness on previous evenings; she had merely bade him goodnight and they had gone their separate ways, but tonight she knew that the oriel bedroom had been prepared for them. It was the principal bedchamber in the house and legend had it that Henry VIII had slept there. On Sir Benjamin’s instructions it had been cleaned and the huge tester bed furnished with new bed linen. Eve had a sudden, wild fancy to ask Nick if he would like to play a game of backgammon.

‘We should retire,’ he said gently. ‘Your maid will be waiting to put you to bed and Richard will be looking out for me also; we must not disappoint them.’ He took her hands and lifted them one after the other to his lips. Even that small gesture made her knees grow weak. ‘Off you go, my dear. Send word when you are ready for me.’

She found Martha bustling around the oriel bedroom. Her new linen nightgown was laid out on the bed. It looked pale and insignificant against the blood-red velvet of the bedhangings. Eve shivered.

‘Martha, I don’t know what to do,’ she whispered, desperately.

Her maid chuckled. ‘With the two of you smelling of April and May ever since Captain Wylder arrived? You will have no problems, Mistress. Leave it all to the captain. Now then, Miss Eve, let me help you out of your gown.’

Send word when you are ready, Nick had said. Perhaps she need not send for him at all. She thought wildly that she would lock the doors and spend the night alone, but she knew that would not do. In the event it was not her decision. Once Martha had put her into her nightgown and arranged her hair becomingly around her shoulders, she gathered up her clothes.

‘There. You look as pretty as a picture, mistress. I will send word to the captain that you await him. Shall I light the candles before I leave you?’

‘No.’ The summer night was drawing in, but it was not yet dark. ‘Leave them.’

Outside the open window Eve could hear a night bird singing. Her nerves were on edge and every sound seemed louder, sharper.

I’m not ready for this, she thought suddenly. Nick Wylder is a stranger. She wrapped her arms about her, closing her eyes to conjure his face in her mind. She pictured him smiling at her with that warm, understanding look in his eyes and her panic subsided. Nick was no stranger. In her heart she had always known him.

Nick stood in the doorway and regarded the little figure by the window. She had her back to him, and her head was bowed as if in prayer.

‘Eve?’ He spoke her name quietly.

She jumped and turned. The light from the window provided a gleaming halo for her hair as it flowed down over her shoulders. He could see every curve of her body through the gossamer-thin nightgown. The sight inflamed him, rousing the desire he had kept under control for the past four weeks. His breath caught in his throat. By heaven, how he wanted her! As he crossed the room he saw how nervous she was. He felt a desperate desire to tell her everything, but he dare not. Not yet. He must control himself, play for time. As long as they did not consummate the marriage then he could set her free, when it was all over and the danger was past. He would explain why it had been necessary to marry her in such haste and then, if she still wanted to be his wife, so be it, but it must be her choice. He owed her that much. He reached out and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Her eyes, dark and luminous in her pale face, looked towards him for reassurance. His mouth was dry; suddenly he was anxious. What if he broke her heart?

‘Eve, we do not have to do this tonight…’

She put her fingers against his mouth. ‘I want to, Nick. I want to, very much,’ she murmured, then with her hands on his shoulders she reached up and kissed him.

Nick felt the touch of her lips and he was lost.

Evelina marvelled at her temerity, yet when she had seen the concern in Nick’s eyes her own doubts had fled and she had desperately wanted to comfort him. She felt his arms around her and her own crept about his neck. As Nick kissed her back with increasing urgency her lips parted and his tongue explored her mouth, flickering and teasing and stirring up the hot fire that burned deep in her belly. He was wearing a brightly patterned dressing robe, but through the heavy silk she could feel his body, hard against hers and she experienced a heady, exhilarating sensation of power even as he swept her up and carried her to the bed. She kept her eyes on his face, marking every line and shadow, the purposeful curve of his lips and the deepening colour of his eyes—they were almost black as they looked at her now and she trembled at the passion in their depths. He laid her on the covers and she reached up for him, wanting to kiss him again, but he resisted while he untied the belt of his robe. Eve’s eyes widened as he shed the heavy satin. She had expected him to be wearing a nightshirt and the sight of his naked body surprised her. Nervously she ran her tongue over her lips. Nick lowered himself gently on to the bed beside her, measuring his length against hers, propping himself upon one arm while he ran his free hand gently across her cheek.

‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured. ‘More than I ever imagined.’

Eve swallowed hard. ‘So, too, are you,’ she managed to say with a shy, tremulous smile.

He bent his head, capturing her lips again while his hands moved over her, caressing her body through the thin nightdress. Eve’s own hands were exploring too, running over Nick’s arms, stroking his shoulders, tracing his spine. His body was smooth and firm beneath her fingers, the muscles rippling beneath the skin. His kisses deepened and her own desire mounted. She wanted to be closer to him; even the thin muslin of her nightgown between them was too much. She broke away and sat up, scrabbling to drag off the last scrap of fabric that separated her from Nick. After a heartbeat’s hesitation he helped her, his breathing as ragged as her own. As she raised her arms to drag the gown over her head she felt his hands capturing her nakedness. Collecting up her breasts, he buried his face in their softness. Gasping, she freed herself from the flimsy material and they fell together on to the covers in a tangle of limbs.

Nick’s lips moved back up her body, slid over her mouth, his kiss urgent and demanding while his hands on her skin caused her body to writhe out of her control. She threw back her head, shuddering with surprise and delight as his hand moved between her thighs, gently easing them apart. She arched beneath his questing fingers, moving against them, not knowing why, only aware of the ache in her groin and the pleasurable sensations he was arousing deep, deep within her. He kissed her neck; she felt his lips briefly on her collar-bone, then they fastened over one erect nipple and she gasped. The pleasure was so heady and intense that she thought she might faint. She was soaring, flying and falling all at the same time. Her hands gripped him, fingers digging into his shoulders as the first spasm shook her, then a second. She knew a moment’s panic as those pleasuring fingers eased away and Nick rolled over and entered her. She gave a little cry and he froze. Desperately Eve pushed against him.

‘No, no, do not stop,’ she gasped.

She heard him give a shaky laugh. ‘I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to.’

The blood was pounding in her ears, singing through her body as they moved together. The wave of pleasure had receded, but it was building within her again. She matched her movements to Nick’s, running her hands over his muscled back, keeping pace with him as the tempo increased, the heady wave building and building until at last, when she thought she might die of pleasure, it crested and broke. She heard a cry, but did not know if it came from her or Nick. He tensed and tensed again before they subsided together, shuddering and gasping for breath.

They lay side by side on the silken bedcovers, fingers entwined. The daylight had gone now, replaced by a fine silvery moonlight that cast a magical gleam over their naked bodies.

‘Nick?’ Eve raised herself upon one elbow and looked at him. Her heart lurched. Could this handsome man really be her husband? Was it possible that he could love her, that she could satisfy him? She gently brushed her hand across the scattering of crisp black hairs that grew on his chest. ‘Was—was that how it is meant to be? Was it, I mean, was I—?’

His hand came up to trap hers against his chest. He grinned at her. ‘You were magnificent, Eve. I am a very lucky man.’

She flushed with delight. He reached up, hooked his fingers around her neck and began to pull her down to him. ‘In fact,’ he whispered, ‘I think we should try that again, just to be sure…’

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