Her eyes were filled with love as he reached out to her. Hands touched, fingers slowly entwining as he drew her to him. All the fears and the emptiness of yesterday slipped away as her body brushed against his. Slowly, his arms enclosed her, and the shadow of his face fell across hers. Her lips parted in silent longing. And then, in a whisper of time, his mouth closed over hers, filling her with tender warmth. His breath slipped through her, freeing her from the aching loneliness of the past.
"Lys," he whispered, his lips beginning a journey that followed the column of her throat to the soft, taut flesh of full breasts. The restraints of her clothes fell away beneath those familiar hands as they swept away eons of loneliness.
She cried out softly, his nakedness moving across hers with the promise of tender possession. Memory as infinite as passion engulfed them, taking them once more into that void where only they existed.
"I knew you would come back to me," she whispered, knowing an aching need as they slipped to the soft coverlet across the bed.
They might once have been lovers carried on a barque bound for ancient Thebes, or a knight and his lady in a flower-strewn meadow far from the conflicts of war. Or they might have lain beneath a night sky on a high plain, watching as stars burst overhead in a magical shower of light and promise.
They came together slowly, his body moving over hers, his lips whispering against her fevered skin as he had loved her before. Her cries against him were softly sweet with the pleasure of his name, then urgent with loving him. She'd waited a lifetime for him.
It was like the first time and the next time all as one, fulfilling a promise made long ago.
Loneliness filled her even as she struggled to hold onto the dream. Only a dream.
Passion and desire slipped into the far place of memory and unspoken thought until she couldn't remember at all.In time,his voice whispered to her, aching in its tenderness.In time...
Elyse sobbed as the dream slipped away, playing across her thoughts in fleeting images that made her ache with longing. In the darkness that remains just before the dawn, she threw back the covers of the bed, feeling the staggering jolt of morning air against her bare flesh. She sat up, eyes wide with something very near fear as she wrapped her arms around her naked body. The pale blue gown she'd donned only hours ago as she'd dressed for bed lay on the floor. The covers were in wild disarray and her pulse still raced.
She stared across the room as if she could see the apparition from her dreams, almost hoping she would. Instead, the shapes and forms silhouetted in the early gray of dawn were dearly familiar. Elyse struck a fist against the pillow, venting fear, anger, and frustration. The dreams came every night now.
"Who are you?" she cried desperately into the half-light knowing no one remained to answer her. She flung back the covers. With something very near desperation, she swung her feet to the floor. Crossing the room on shaking legs, she seized the cloth beside the pitcher and bowl on the commode. With almost vengeful desperation, she scrubbed the heat from her skin, then drew the cloth across her breasts sharply at the lingering ache that remained deep inside.
She turned, half-expecting to see her phantom lover watching her from the bed, still feeling him.
Everything remained as she'd left it, including the throbbing pulse of passion deep in her woman's softness. How was it possible for her to feel these things when she'd never lain with a man? How?
It was three nights since the ball, and each night the dream came back to her with a persistence that was becoming frightening, almost as if it were connected to something, or someone. And now this last dream had seemed so real, so intimate... She shuddered with the longing that still remained.
Her smile faded as she probed her temple where the telltale ache that always accompanied the dream still lingered.
"My mysterious phantom lover." The feeling of helplessness shifted to growing anger. "Who are you!"
She flung the cloth into the basin, sending a wave of water sloshing over the side. She needed a ride more than ever this morning! If she left now, she'd be back before anyone was aware she'd been gone. Elyse whirled around. Stark naked, she crossed to the wardrobe.
A driving restlessness made her impatient. Three days!
It was three days since she'd met St. James and lost her pendant. And each day, she'd sent Katy to market to try to find some bit of gossip about the elusive man who'd mysteriously appeared at the engagement party without invitation, and then had disappeared just as mysteriously.
Elyse silently cursed each button at the closure of the slim men's pants. She shoved the buttons of the shirt through maddeningly small holes and then tucked the voluminous tails in at the waist.
Barefoot, she crossed back to the bed, riding boots tucked under one arm while she struggled with the loose ends of the tie. Her fingers tangled hopelessly. Tossing both ends of the tie, as well as her heavy mass of her hair, impatiently over one shoulder, she pulled on first one boot and then the other, wriggling her toes into the soft leather. Grabbing a man's cap and riding jacket, she slipped out of the bedchamber.
The hall was dimly lit by one gas lamp at the far end. One of the maids put it out when she came upstairs to wake her grandmother each morning. The space under Katy's door was still dark. She had been completely exhausted the night before, after spending the last three days trying to learn something of St. James.
Elyse knew Katy wouldn't be up for at least another hour, and walked quietly down the hall, to the door leading to the servants’ quarters on the first floor. It was much closer to the back entrance of the manor and the carriage house beyond. Stepping over a creaking floorboard in the middle of the top step, Elyse stole down the narrow stairway. Upon reaching the bottom, she stopped, inhaling the delicious aromas that drifted from the kitchen as cook prepared food for the day. Her stomach grumbled a nagging reminder that she'd been able to eat very little the last three days.
Checking to make certain no one was about, she ducked inside to steal a handful of warm rolls pungent with buttery cinnamon. Taking a fortifying nibble of one, she quickly slipped to the outside door and stepped into the fresh morning air.
A short walk along the hedgerow took her to the far end of the carriage house where Mr. Quist and the stable boy slept. Quimby's room was across the hall; stables, coach, and day carriages were housed at the far end. She could easily slip by undetected, leaving Quimby to follow her as she knew he was instructed by her grandmother, but today she desperately wanted him along. She'd decided on a different route for her ride this morning. She knocked lightly on his door. A loud snorting was the only response, followed by incoherent mumbling.
"Eh? What's that? Who's there?" he finally grunted, obviously not wanting to know.
"Good morning, Quimby." Elyse poked her head inside his quarters, giving his rumpled countenance a tremulous smile. "It's time to be up and about, if you're going riding with me this morning."
"Good God!" was his only discernible comment. The rest were muffled by a mound of bedcovers.
"I'm not decent!" Quimby roared, coming more fully awake.
