"Aghast and agog, certainly. Not rendered speechless, because that will never happen. But it might have been fun to see. It's almost a pity Flynn raced off, or I could go drag him here now and...well, and let you have a whack at him."

"I really would have hit him, you know. I was a bit aghast and agog at how very much I longed to hit him. I...I've never understood anyone using violence. I frightened myself with how logical violence seemed at that moment."

"Many things seem logical at the moment," he dared to say, tipping his head slightly, his gaze intent on her face. "For instance, it seems very logical for me to kiss you now."

Her smile relaxed his taut nerves. They'd taken another step, moved further away from the past. Toward each other. Only one final step remained. "Really? Perhaps I should have let you keep the door open."

"Are you saying that, if I were to kiss you now, you'd feel the need to scream?"

She shook her head almost imperceptibly. "I don't think so, no. Should we try it and see? It would be my second kiss. And both in one day."

Tanner cupped her cheek in his hand, and heard her quick intake of breath. The firelight played in her tumbled curls, warmed her flawless skin with color. "I'm not sure two kisses would be enough."

"No? How many then?"

He put his mouth to hers. Gently, tenderly, their lips slanted against each other, Tanner holding himself back until hers softened, became accustomed to him.

And then, reluctantly, he slowly broke the kiss, his heart singing when she seemed equally reluctant to end it.

"How many, Lydia?" he said, his voice full with emotions he hadn't known existed. "I could stay here, kissing you, until the sun fades away. Until the stars fall into the sea. Until we're both-"

But she had turned aggressor, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and pulling him toward her, banishing all coherent thought as she sought his kiss.

This time, giving himself some slight slack in the leash he was trying so hard to keep on his emotions, he opened his mouth over hers, coaxing her with teeth and tongue until she relaxed her lips and allowed him entry.

Her body seemed to melt into his as he taught her the power of a kiss, the depth and breadth and heights of the miracles of physical sensation, this prelude to an even more intimate plundering of her secrets. That final step. Total possession.

She shifted slightly on his lap and his arousal had to be noticeable to her through the thin cloth of her nightrail and dressing gown. G.o.d knew he could feel her every curve as she pressed against him.

"Lydia. Sweetheart. We need to stop now," he said against her hair as he fought what would soon be a losing battle with his desire for her.

"No," she said, tipping her head so that he took up the invitation, pressing kisses against the slim column of her neck. She reached down and found his hand, raising it with hers, pressing his against the center of her chest. "Do you feel it, Tanner? That's my heart, finally beating again. I feel alive, Tanner. I so need to feel alive again. I don't know what I'm asking. I just know that I'd die again if you left me now. Please."

It would take a man ten times, one hundred times stronger than he to leave her now. "You do know what you're asking, Lydia. We both do. And G.o.d help me, I'd rather cut off my own arm than leave you now."

He stood up, holding her high against his chest, and walked to the tester bed that hid in the flickering shadows, and set her on her feet beside it. She seemed so small to him, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulders. He felt huge, and clumsy, and more nervous than he'd been at sixteen.

Shrugging out of his jacket in front of her made him feel ridiculous. Kissing her as he unb.u.t.toned his waistcoat seemed almost unnatural. He'd never thought about his own nakedness, how it might affect a gentle and reserved woman like Lydia, even frighten her.

But when Lydia began opening the b.u.t.tons on his shirt he forgot his nervousness. This was wrong, even as it was so very right. But right or wrong, it was going to happen. Without words, she was telling him that what he wanted, she wanted.

With Nicole for a sister, and Helen Daughtry as her mother, Lydia had to know...the mechanics of the thing. But her fingers didn't falter, even as the last b.u.t.ton slid from its moorings and she touched a hand to his bare chest.

Branding him hers forever.

She wanted him. She at least wanted something. She'd been hovering around the edges of life for all of her years. He knew it, she had said as much. Even her love for Fitz had not broken her free from whatever safe coc.o.o.n she'd felt she'd needed.

But now she was here, and he was here, and she'd chosen him to make her feel alive. The world wouldn't dare to tear them apart now...

He tugged his shirttails free of his fawn trousers, grateful that Justin's insistence on dressing for supper had forced him into evening shoes rather than high-top boots. He stepped out of them now, and then dismissed the thought as unimportant.

Because he was undoing the long thin ribbons on Lydia's dressing gown now, kissing each bare shoulder as he gently eased the material aside until the gown lay puddled at her feet.

She was looking at him, not blinking, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s rising and falling as her breaths quickened, went shallow.

"I said I'd never hurt you," he told her, pulling her close, cupping her rounded b.u.t.tocks as he introduced her to his arousal. "But that's not possible, Lydia. Not this one time. You know that, don't you?"

"I know that," she said, her palms against his chest, her blue eyes clear, untroubled by any notion that she was making a mistake. "Maman explained it to us. She was very explicit."

Tanner suppressed a wince. Helen Daughtry had the morals of a cat; the entire ton knew about her appet.i.tes. "Then you...know."

"I know what she said. But Nicole promised me it's nothing like anything Maman said."

A small smile tugged at Tanner's mouth. "Oh she did, did she. And what did your sister say?"

"Just that. It's nothing like anything our mother told us. And then she smiled, rather the way you're doing now, as a matter of fact. Tanner, must we talk? If you've changed your mind I certainly under-"

His answer was to pick her up and deposit her in the center of the turned-down bed, then follow her down. He pulled the covers up and over them, even though he longed to not just touch her, possess her, but to see her. But that might frighten her.

He was careful to kiss her without attempting anything more intimate until he could tell by her reaction that her body was telling her it needed more, that there had to be more.

Only then did he place his hand on the curve of her hip, drawing her slightly onto her side, in closer contact with his own body. When he cupped her breast she made a small mewling sound deep in her throat. He could feel her nipple harden against his hand.

The bud, still covered by her nightrail, was irresistible to him and he closed finger and thumb around it, lightly tugging on it as he began to plunder her mouth. He ran his tongue over the roof of her mouth, lightly nipped at her bottom lip before drawing her tongue into his own mouth, his body tensing as she began her own tentative exploration.

When he could bear no more, he reached down, took a fistful of cloth, and began tugging up her nightrail, whispering nonsense words of encouragement as she lifted her hips, making it easier for him.

The feel of her silken skin, her sweet, untutored reaction to his touch, was like a benediction to him, and an impossible to ignore invitation.

Somehow he managed to rid himself of shirt and trousers and hose, all while never moving more than a whisper from Lydia, every moment not spent touching her an agony to him.

Fingers spread, he settled his hand on her flat belly, leaving it there for long moments as he kissed her mouth, her eyelids, her throat. She slid one arm up and over his shoulder, turning more toward him, her body moving restlessly. If he needed, she also needed. She was telling him so with her body.

He pressed her onto her back once more, and dared a new intimacy.

The skin between her thighs was like warm silk. She tensed at first, and again he was careful to go slow, even as his own body was crying out to cover her, possess her.

"It's all right, sweetheart," he whispered as he slid one leg over hers, wrapping his lower leg around her calf, letting her feel him, urging her legs apart. "Let me touch you. The rest will be easier if you let me touch you." He found the center of her, her sweet heat, and stroked her until he felt her hips lifting with each stroke, seeking his touch. "Yes, that's it. It's good, isn't it? So very good. Let it happen, sweetheart. Just let it happen."

"But what...I..."

Hovering over her, looking down into her face, watching her eyelids flutter closed as she tipped back her head, Tanner at last understood why he'd been born. He'd been put on this earth to love this woman. Protect her, comfort her. Laugh with her, cry with her. Love her...always love her.

Lydia's eyelids flew open and she looked up at him in sudden surprise. Her hips lifted one more time, then stilled. He covered her mouth with his as he felt the small convulsions of her body, the glory of feeling she hadn't known existed until that moment.

And then, before he could tell himself that he should hold her now, calm her, and then leave her, he levered himself over her completely and sank into her. He felt the resistance, but it was quickly gone and he was deep inside her, his heart beating so fast he wouldn't have been surprised if it burst in his chest.

"It's all right, it's all right," he told her as she raised both arms around him, digging her fingertips into his bare back. "Let me love you."

She kissed his chest, his throat, his face, as if she needed the feel of him, the taste of him. Her pa.s.sion became his pa.s.sion. He moved slowly at first, still worried for her, but when she began to move in rhythm with him it was impossible to resist her sweet temptation.

Bracing his hands on either side of her head, he raised himself up as he thrust into her again and again, faster and faster, until she gave a small cry that seemed to trigger his own release.

He collapsed against her, spent, his breathing ragged, his heart still racing at a gallop.

He'd thought himself experienced. As Justin would have termed it, a man of the world. But making love to-no, with-Lydia was something totally out of his experience. He'd never cared so much, never wanted so much, never needed to hold a woman afterwards as he did now. Just to be with her, just to feel her head resting against his shoulder, just to listen to her even breathing as she slept...wondering if her dreams were of him. Praying that they were...

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

LYDIA WAS COMFORTABLY sore when she woke, and alone. The room was still dark, the fire almost dead in the grate. She wondered what time it was, and if she'd somehow sensed Tanner leaving, and that had wakened her.

Turning on her side, she hugged the pillow that carried his scent close to her, burying her nose in its softness.

And then she giggled.

Charlotte had told her to give him a little nudge.

Sometimes, honorable as gentlemen feel themselves required to be, it takes a...a bit of a nudge from the woman who knows what's best for him. And for her, of course.

Lydia supposed she'd done more than that. She'd all but begged Tanner to kiss her, to carry her to bed.

Think about letting go, just a little.

Only a little? "Oh, Charlotte, you couldn't know what it is to soar above the clouds, if you could say something like that. Or maybe you did..."

Lydia turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling rather stupid. She saw it now, how they had all conspired to shake her out of her doldrums. The lowered necklines. Rafe's quick agreement to a week at Malvern. Charlotte's little nudge. Why, they'd all but given her permission, set the table for her, and told her to enjoy her meal.

Because they'd all known what she had been fighting against for so long; her feelings for Tanner. And, obviously, they all approved.

How could they have known of his feelings for her? How could they have been so certain?

Her eyes went wide. "He told them. It's the only way."

She could recite from Moliere, quote full verses from a dozen poets or more. She knew a smattering of Greek, could conjugate verbs in nearly flawless French. She could name every capital of every country in Europe. She could recite the history of the English monarchy throughout all of its twisted pathways by rote.

But she didn't know when a man was in love with her?

With her beloved captain, it had been different. She had been different. Young, knowing nothing of what it truly meant to love a man, what it felt like to need to be always near him, constantly long to touch him. To want everything he could give her, everything she could offer him in return...with no hesitation, no hint of shame.

Her love for Fitz had been a quiet love, a simple love. Fitz had been long winter afternoons spent before a roaring fire at Ashurst Hall, reading Shakespeare together, listening to tales of his boyhood in Dublin, feeling important to someone. She hadn't been ready for more, and Fitz had somehow known that. He'd been her first step toward womanhood.

Tanner was the smile that warmed her all over. The voice she could listen to for hours. The distinctive footfalls on the tiles in the foyer that always set her heart racing. The face that lived in her dreams.

She'd hated him so much when he'd come to tell them about Fitz. She'd feared him more when his face began taking Fitz's place in her dreams. She hadn't been ready for him last year and had avoided him on his infrequent visits to Ashurst Hall. She hadn't been ready for the way he made her feel.

But never could she forget him.

Now she knew why.

The captain was her past, a very important part of her past. He was her beginning.

Tanner was her everything. Her today, and all of her tomorrows.

Lydia used a corner of the sheeting to wipe at her damp eyes and hugged the pillow close once more. Life wasn't easy, being able to feel could be a blessing or a curse...but she was ready for it, all of it. With Tanner, she was even eager for every moment.

Time had this way of moving on, and with its sure pa.s.sage, the bad faded, and a person could once more open herself, open her heart, to what was good. There was more than one chance in life, and only a fool wouldn't see that, and take that chance. As Tanner had said, they owed that to those who couldn't move forward with them.

She snuggled beneath the sheets, looking toward the window dotted with raindrops that must have fallen earlier, hoping for dawn so that she could see Tanner again. There might be some awkwardness at first, having just been so intimate with each other, but her eagerness to see him immediately banished that worry from her mind. If she could just sleep again, the time would pa.s.s more quickly...

She closed her eyes, and then opened them again nearly as quickly, alert to a noise from somewhere behind her. But only the wall was behind her, the one between her chamber and Jasmine's.

What was that sound? Is that why she'd awakened in the first place?

Pushing down the covers, Lydia climbed out of her bed and put her ear to the wall. And heard it again. The sound of weeping.

"Oh, for goodness' sake," Lydia grumbled, knowing that she couldn't ignore that sound, much as she wished she could. Using the tinderbox on the table beside her bed, she lit her single candle and quickly looked about to locate her dressing gown. There was no clock in the chamber, but she could nearly make out clouds in the sky, so it must be close to dawn.

Had Jasmine been crying all night? Was she even now sobbing in her sleep? And for what? She'd behaved irrationally at supper, childishly. Lydia, as was the case for most even-tempered people, had little sympathy for the girl's histrionics...but that didn't mean she could go back to bed and pretend she hadn't heard her.

Picking up her candle, she quietly let herself out of her chamber after peering up and down the hallway, hoping it wasn't late enough for the maids to be stirring. a.s.sured she wouldn't be discovered, she padded on bare feet to Jasmine's door and knocked.

"Jasmine? Jasmine, it's Lydia. Please, may I come in?"

"No! No, go away!"

Lydia rolled her eyes. Really, she may not be much for intrigue and stealth herself, but Jasmine's lack outstripped hers by a good measure. "The whole inn will be standing out here with me if you don't lower your voice. Now let me in or I'll find someone to summon Tanner."

She counted to ten under her breath and was just about to knock once more when the door opened a few inches and she slipped inside. A quick glance to her left told her that Jasmine's bed was placed directly on the wall that separated the two rooms.

If she had heard Jasmine, had Jasmine heard her? And Tanner? That could prove embarra.s.sing.

Once her eyes had become accustomed to the dimness, Lydia went about the small chamber, using her candle to light several others, before she turned to look at Jasmine.

The girl was clad in a rather fetching dressing gown embroidered with yellow rosebuds. Her dark hair hung loosely past her shoulders, framing her small, almost elfin face. She really was beautiful...until she opened her mouth and let her tongue run on wheels, that is.

"What's that on your cheek?" Lydia asked after a moment, lifting her candle and walking toward the girl. "No, don't turn away from me. Your left cheek looks...bruised."

Jasmine pressed a hand against her tear-wet cheek. "It's...it's all my own fault. I behaved so badly last night at supper. I don't know what came over me, I really don't, Lydia. I suppose I was hungry. Papa says I'm never nasty except when I need to be fed. But then I left the supper room without so much as a bite."

"I believe that's called cutting off one's nose to spite one's face," Lydia pointed out quietly. "But I thought Tanner was going to have a tray sent up to your room."