“Goddamn it.” Elliot grabbed the frock coat he had just taken off and put it back on his shoulders, reaching for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Ophelia asked, following him.

  “What does it look like? I’m going to try and round them up.” He was speaking quickly now in his frustration.

  “Then I will come with you.”

  “No.”

  “No? What do you mean, ‘no’?” She placed her hands on her hips as he opened the door. “You do not get to order me around, husband.”

  The way she said “husband” did something to him. It was a pleasurable feeling, but it was not enough to dispel the fury he felt. He flicked his head back in her direction.

  “I will get them myself. Mrs Mouser, be so good as to send up Thomas.” He was the new footman they had hired, and being the youngest and strongest, he was best for the task.

  “Let me help,” Ophelia pleaded again.

  “So the doors can be left open again?” Elliot asked, stepping beyond the door.

  “That is not fair. I am sure I bolted them.”

  She followed him outside. The sun was waning now and in the growing darkness, it would be twice as hard to find the horses. Elliot was so busy twisting his head back and forth, looking for any sign of the horses, that it took him a minute to realise Ophelia was still following him.

  “Ophelia, go back inside, please,” he begged. “I will get this sorted.”

  “Do you think me so incapable?” she asked, crossing her arms. “I would have thought after that night at the Thames, you would know I am competent.”

  He halted at her reminder and turned back to face her, seeing how red she was in the face in her own anger.

  “Oh, believe me, I remember it well.” He moved toward her, his face close to her own. “I know exactly how capable you are, but the nights are drawing in quickly at this time of year. Look around you. It will be dark soon enough. I will not have my wife riding alone through the estate in such weather as that.”

  “Wait…” She paused, her brows furrowing together. “You’re trying to protect me?”

  “God’s wounds. I begin to wonder how little your opinion of me is if that surprises you.” He huffed and turned away, just as Thomas appeared. “Thomas, good, you’re here. Come with me. This will not be an easy task to round up these horses.”

  The young man nodded and hurried to reach his side. Elliot glanced back once to see Ophelia with her lips parted, apparently wanting to say something more, but he didn’t have time to hear it. He turned away and went hunting for the horses with Thomas.

  They walked quickly through the undergrowth at the back of the house and toward the steep bank bordered by trees. As they walked, they discussed their best chances of finding and corralling the horses into one group. Shortly after they’d found the first horse and tied some reins around his nose, Elliot began to calm a little.

  All will be well, soon enough. We’ll have them home.

  “Did you see the horses bolt, Thomas?” Elliot asked as they traipsed through the trees, looking for the other horses.

  “No, Your Grace. Miss Barge saw it through a window. She says they made quite a racket.” Thomas nodded as he spoke. “Someone said the door must have been left open.”

  “It must have been.” Elliot could think of no other explanation for it. After all, though Ophelia was capable, it would be an easy mistake to make, to leave a single door unbolted. The realisation of what a simple mistake it was made Elliot feel guilty. That guilt rose until he felt quite cold with it, the chill of the night seeping through his skin and into his bones.

  I was too harsh with her.

  ***

  Ophelia paced around her chamber. Night had long fallen, and it was clearly taking Elliot and Thomas so long to gather the horses that they did not return in time for dinner. Ophelia retired early for the night, leaving Grace downstairs to practice her piano. More than once did Ophelia try to pick up Romancing the Forest, to lose herself in her reading, but sooner or later she tossed it down again and returned to the window, looking out for any clue of Elliot’s return.

  In the end, she didn’t see him, but she heard him. Far behind her in the corridor, she heard Elliot approaching his chamber. He said some quick words to a member of staff, then bid them goodnight and went into his chamber.

  Ophelia hovered by the connecting door between their rooms before she thought herself foolish for being nervous. He was her husband. She should feel confident enough to knock on his door. With this in mind, she raised her hand hurriedly and knocked on the door with purpose.

  “Come in,” Elliot’s answer was instant.

  Ophelia stepped through the door to see Elliot shrugging his frock coat off on the other side of the room. He looked tired with his hair mussed from where the wind had pulled at it. His cheeks were pale, too, a testament to how tired he was. His trousers were covered in mud from having run through the estate for so long. When his eyes found hers, he said nothing. Ophelia was at least relieved to see those eyes didn’t hold the same anger that had been there earlier.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, wringing her hands together with her nerves. “I truly thought I had locked the door. I didn’t mean to cause all this trouble.”

  “I know.” Elliot sighed and tilted his head up, peering at the ceiling as if he was truly looking at the heavens above. “I’m beginning to think it is just God’s way of causing trouble for us. Perhaps he got a laugh out of seeing Thomas and me running about the estate tonight like headless chickens.” He chuckled to himself, but Ophelia could not join in. When she didn’t laugh, he took off his waistcoat and paused, looking at her. “Not in the mood to jest?”

  “How can I be?” Ophelia asked, closing the connecting door behind her, and walking towards him. “I’m sorry, truly. I didn’t mean this to happen—”

  “You said that bit, Ophelia.”

  “Yes, but I wish to say it again.”

  “I have a good memory; I can remember it from the first time.”

  “You’re teasing me!”

  “Yes, it’s what we do. I rather like teasing you,” he said and moved toward her. Ophelia was still caught up in her guilt. She wanted to apologise for a third time but before the words could escape her lips, Elliot stepped so near to her that the words died in her throat.

  “You’re rather close,” she whispered as his head bent towards hers.

  “You don’t seem to mind it,” he observed slowly.

  “I thought you…” She sighed deeply, thinking of how he had not come to her chamber of late.

  “Thought I what?” he prompted her on.

  “The other day, after we…” She struggled to say the words.

  “You can say ‘made love,’ you know.” He reached for her hands. When the backs of his fingers brushed hers, she felt a jolt through her body. It was a spark, one of excitement that reminded her of all they had done a few days ago.

  “You left so quickly.” The words escaped Ophelia in a rushed breath. The moment the words were out of her mouth, Elliot’s eyes widened, and he stood a little straighter.

  “Ah. Is that what this is about?” he asked, chuckling a little. “Do you think I regretted what we shared?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” She fidgeted on her feet, finding the temptation to keep their fingers in this flirtatious touch a little too strong to resist. She maintained that touch, watching as his eyes kept flicking down to look at their hands. “I was rather surprised to wake up and find you gone.”

  “I had things to do. Believe me, Ophelia, I did not regret it.”

  He stepped closer to her, his lips finding their way to her cheek. The first kiss had her breath hitching before she angled her head and met his lips with her own. The kiss was instantly fierce, so full of passion that their hands no longer lightly touched one another’s but ended up clutched together.

  With that kiss, Ophelia quite forgot the distance that was between them. She just had to say one more thing first. She pulled back from the kiss, making him growl a little.

  “You don’t want the kiss to end?” she teased him.

  “Was the noise I made a giveaway?” He laughed at himself.

  “I just wanted to say, I am sorry,” she murmured the words, making him smile once again.

  “Ophelia, please, stop apologising. Leaving a door unlocked is quite frankly one of the easiest things to do in this world.” He shrugged, showing how much it didn’t matter to him. “I am not angry. Would you forgive me my initial tenseness?”

  “Tenseness?” She laughed at his choice of word. “I would have called it anger.”

  “Maybe it was a little, but that was just at losing the horses, not at you. We found them all again, so there is no harm done.”

  “Apart from this tiredness,” she gestured with the words to his face, “and the dirt to your trousers.” She pointed down at what he was wearing.

  “I am not too tired,” he said, his smile beginning to grow.

  “No? So, you don’t wish to sleep yet?” Ophelia couldn’t help the hope that spiked inside of her. It made her heart beat harder in her chest, echoing in her ears.

  “I find I have no wish for sleep.” He moved closer.

  “What do you wish for?” she teased him, just hovering back a little—a mere centimetre separating her from giving him another kiss.

  “Let me show you.”

  This time, she didn’t stay back. As Elliot kissed her, Ophelia forgot about all the odd things that had passed between them. She ignored the distance and the anger they had both felt earlier that evening. She thought only of the way he kissed her. It was full of passion as he explored her mouth, urging her to angle her head up toward him.

  When he wrapped an arm around her waist, she moulded her body to his own, keeping their bodies flush together. The press of his body was enough to drive her wild, making her body remember the pleasure that she had felt a few days before. The mere memory of it had a pool of wetness building between her legs.

  “These trousers,” she murmured between their kisses. “They are still rather dirty.”

  “Subtle, indeed.” He chuckled, then placed a kiss to her neck. “I suppose I should get rid of them, then.”

  She smiled as he reached for his trousers, sliding them down his legs and revealing himself. His shirt was the next thing to go, along with his cravat; soon, his body was exposed to her completely. The appearance of his body had her distracted, running her fingers over the muscles exposed in his chest, right down to the subtle V-shape between his hips. He growled at that touch in her ear, then backed her up toward the bed.

  Ophelia laughed as she was tumbled down to the bed, her dress lifted around her hips. They were both hurried, both wanting this, with such intensity that this time, there wasn’t much preparation. Ophelia didn’t mind. The way they held onto each other betrayed the need she felt for him, and the thought that he wanted her as much as she desired him was everything to her.

  With her skirt around her hips, he kissed her briefly at the top of her legs, then kissed her core, reminding her of the pleasure he’d shown her. It made her wetter still, prepared for him. Then he stood up and moved his hips to hers.

  With Ophelia laid flat on the bed and Elliot standing on the floor, their positions made it all too easy for him to enter her. It was sudden, fast, and Ophelia was shocked there was no pain this time, only pleasure. One of her hands gripped the bed beneath her as the other reached toward Elliot. She clung to his bicep as he placed that hand on the bed beside her, anchoring himself down to begin a rhythm.

  That rhythm was fast, so quick that Ophelia became weak, small moans escaping her lips every few seconds. Each time Elliot moved, she felt that sensation begin to build in her core, created by just the way he pleasured her.

  For minutes, they stared at one another. Ophelia’s eyes ran over Elliot’s bare chest and up to his face, watching as his lips parted and small guttural moans fell from him, too.

  When Ophelia began to feel things changing, that pleasure building, she pulled on the arm she was holding onto. Elliot clearly understood, for he bent down over her and kissed her. Ophelia passed one hand into his hair, clinging to him and playfully tugging on those tendrils as her body was rocked over the edge of ecstasy.

  As she reached that high, she bucked against him. He followed quickly, moaning into their kiss before his body fell still. They were connected as he lifted himself up a little, just enough so their gazes could find one another. They both worked hard to catch their breaths, clinging onto one another.

  “Is each time going to be like this?” Ophelia asked, breathlessly.

  “God, I hope so,” Elliot said then chuckled. Bending toward her, he kissed her sweetly on the lips.

  “Tomorrow,” she murmured as he ran his fingers through her hair, “do you have to attend to business? Or will you stay home?”

  “I can stay home for a day,” he whispered to her. “How about we go for a walk, just you and me? We can have a picnic.”

  “I’d like that.” Ophelia wrapped her arms around Elliot, hopeful that this was the end of the confusion between them. He showed no hurry to leave her.

  Chapter 17

  “Are you sure?” Elliot was confused. He was standing by the door, ready to go with his frock coat on. He’d arranged for Yates to prepare a picnic for himself and Ophelia, but he had hardly expected Miss Barge to come and tell him the news now that Ophelia wasn’t coming.

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Miss Barge nodded. “She just told me herself that she intends to spend the day with your sister. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do not think she wishes to go on this walk you speak of.” The maid looked truly sorry for it.

  Elliot stepped back, hovering in the open door in confusion. It didn’t make sense that Ophelia would change her mind. They had made love the night before with passion and she had stayed in his bed all night.

  That morning, he had been careful not to leave her, but had woken her with more kisses. They had sat at breakfast talking together, and with Grace, too. How had all that affection and warmth slipped away into Elliot hearing a refusal from the maid rather than Ophelia herself?

  “You are certain of this?” Elliot asked, looking back to the maid.

  “I am, Your Grace.” Miss Barge offered another apologetic smile.

  “Very well.” Elliot had no wish to stay in the house now. He didn’t know what he would say to his wife. How could he keep in this feeling of betrayal and upset that she would go back on her word?

  I thought last night had meant something to her, too.

  “I will go out for the day. Tell my wife and my sister I will be back later.”

  “Of course, Your Grace.” Miss Barge curtsied.

  Elliot left the house quickly. He crossed to the stable and saddled his horse as fast as he could, being extra careful to make sure the door was bolted behind him before he took off, galloping across the estate and heading for the drive.

  He didn’t hold back from riding at speed, even when he reached the road. He crossed the bridge over the River Thames, barely looking at the water either side of him. He thought only of Ophelia and the disappointment of her turning him down that day.

  When he reached the only place that he had thought of to escape to, he jumped down from the horse, left it with a stable boy, and rapped his knuckles on the front door so hard that when the butler appeared, he seemed quite ruffled.

 

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