‘He recognised the woman’s name, you see, on top of all the other details that were less specific. Celestine was his nurse, as he had always thought, who came to England with him and sadly died here. He never knew she was really his mother all along, and gave him up so that he would have a better life.’
They were all of them weeping now. ‘They should have put that in the story,’ Bianca managed though her sobs. ‘That’s the best part!’
‘The writer did not know,’ Allegra said, blowing her nose. ‘That is, he was not aware, because the sailor was not either, that the son was in ignorance of his mother’s true identity as well as his father’s. Perhaps he will write more now, to finish the story properly. But you see, Mr Severin felt he could not link his destiny to that of another person, when he remained ignorant of his origins, and could therefore tell a prospective bride and her family nothing. But now he does know, and he is not ashamed, and hoped that I was not. Of course –ofcourse– I am not, and luckily Mama and Papa are not either. And so we can be married, finally, and that is why he is here. I couldn’t tell you beforeeverything was resolved so satisfactorily, in case it wasn’t, and now you know all.’
It seemed her sisters were prepared to overlook her transgressions now. ‘It’s so romantic!’ Cecilia said, her eyes shining damply. ‘So much better than my silly fantasy about bodies in coffins and mysterious robed figures. It makes me think that the Gothic is sadly outmoded, in this new century, and tales of real life and real people, like this, are to be in fashion now. But even that doesn’t matter, not really, because we are so happy for you, Allie!’ And they all embraced, in a confusion of tears and laughter and sadly creased muslin.
‘And you can have my bedroom for yourself, Bea!’ Allegra finished, when at last she had emerged relatively unscathed.
52
The door closed behind her papa, and Allegra smiled at Mr Severin, and walked into his open arms. ‘Was he terribly satirical at your expense?’ she murmured against his broad shoulder. It seemed incredible that everything was resolved, and he was her accepted suitor, holding her, with permission (up to a point), in her parents’ house in Great Russell Street.
‘No more than I deserved,’ he told her, pulling her closer into his strong embrace. ‘I think he was a little disappointed that I didn’t want to talk about hops, or the harvest, and what’s amusing is that I actually could, as much as even he would wish, and will on many another occasion, I daresay. I have a new apple press at home in Kent which I am sure would interest him excessively; I could show him the designs for it and he could tell me many ways in which it could be improved. But not today, my dearest. Today I just needed his formal permission to address you, which I have.’
‘And yet you still have not done so. Perhaps you do not mean to, after all, for all your fine talk.’
‘I haven’t asked you to marry me?’ His hands were warm on her, his hold secure, and his teasing smile intoxicating.
‘You know very well you haven’t. You have spent a great deal more time telling me exactly why you cannot, in fact, marry me. I fear it has grown to be a habit, and you find now that you cannot break it.’
‘I can certainly try, madam. Shall I kneel to you, and ask for your hand and your heart?’
‘Don’t. Let’s not be so conventional. Apart from anything else, sir, you know you already have my heart, and you have made certain claims on other parts of me too.’
He laughed. He looked younger now, she realised, and much more carefree, than the cynically handsome man who had first captured her interest, albeit against her will, and his. ‘But I want all of you. I wish we had the kitchen table here. Mention has been made, I seem to recall, of ravishing you upon it, and it looks solid enough for the task. Would that serve as a suitably unconventional proposal, do you think? Your father’s desk seems sadly inadequate, and inappropriate too.’
She looked at it, standing spindly in the corner, covered in a jumble of books and papers, and was forced to agree. ‘I know my father intended to speak to you of a very short engagement, or a long one. Did you notice? I hope you did. If he goes back to Surrey now without us, which you can see he is itching to do, I dare not think how many months it will be before even Mama will be able to bring him back to town again for something as trivial as a wedding. Autumn is a very busy time on the estate, you know.’
‘I do know, my love. It’s the hops, and the winter planting, and a dozen other things that must be attended to. I don’t think I can wait till November or December, or even later, to make you mine. Though I will if I must. The decision should be yours, Allegra. Forget everyone else and their opinions. What doyouwant to do?’
‘I’m not quite sure yet.’ She was teasing him, and she could see that he knew it. She had not thought herself flirtatious till she had met him; she’d always been too sulky, serious and anxious for that. ‘You told me and my mama that you and Father had spoken of a special licence. Does that mean we could marry as soon as ever we wished? I confess I have no experience in the matter.’
‘Nor do I, as well you know, minx, but yes. It would certainly be better – for your father – than waiting three weeks for the banns to be read in the conventional manner. He isn’t going to stay in London for three or four long tedious weeks and miss the summer celebration he enjoys so much, is he?’
‘No, definitely not, and it would be unfair to expect it of him. Perhaps it would be better – for my dear father’s sake, as you say – if we marry very soon, then. The faster we do it, the fewer people we will have to invite, which will also please him. He doesn’t care for my sister Viola’s husband Edward overmuch, and he need not come if it is very soon. That’s not to betray any great eagerness on my part, you must know. That would be unbecoming. Merely my concern as a dutiful daughter.’
‘How commendable. But if we are to speak of eagerness,’ Max said, his hands tightening about her and his voice deepening, ‘I do seem to recall that I have caused you to cry out eagerly enough before now, and you have urged me on.’ He bent his head a little, close to her ear, and whispered, his breath tickling her sensitive skin and making her shiver delightfully, ‘We have been alone together before, you and I, memorably, but never for long enough. When we are married – or even sooner – I will make youbegfor all the pleasure I can give you.’ And then he nipped at her earlobe with his teeth, and she gasped. It had been too long, she thought, since he had put his exploring hands or his wickedly clever mouth on her bare flesh. Or toldher she was a goddess. One could surely never have enough of such things.
It was warmer in the little room suddenly, and Allegra, who had felt perfectly at ease just a few minutes since in her cool eau-de-Nil muslin gown, began to feel she had too many clothes on for true comfort. Too many layers, petticoats, chemise and stays, flimsy as they were. Mr Severin, in his dark green superfine wool coat, embroidered silk waistcoat, cravat, shirt and buckskin breeches, must surely be feeling the same, or worse. She had a little skin exposed, at her throat, and he was kissing it now, murmuring endearments against her skin. He had far less flesh on display – almost none. That didn’t seem fair or right. She couldn’t reciprocate, couldn’t bury her face in him and inhale his scent, couldn’t lick or bite him, and she very badly wanted to. She hadn’t yet, and it was high time.
‘I know, my love,’ he said. Apparently he could read her thoughts, or at least guess at their direction. But then she was half-swooning in his arms, possibly moaning, a warm bundle of need, so perhaps it was no wonder.
He pulled back a little, his hands still firm about her waist, and looked down at her. ‘I didn’t know I could feel like this,’ he said seriously. ‘I knew desire, and I suppose I thought it was all I could ever have and I must be content with it. Iwas, or thought I was. Lots of men are, and women too, for that matter. But then the need I began to feel for you was so much more powerful than anything I had ever experienced before, I knew it was, and still I didn’t question it. I dared not, I suppose. Deeper emotion had no part to play in my life. I told myself that something in your wild spirit spoke to mine – which it does – and that was all.’
‘But it wasn’t?’ She could not be blamed, she thought, for wanting to hear more of this, and for teasing him. It was delicious, to have him hold her, and see her, and share his feelings,which were new and wonderful to them both. She was a little shy when it came to speaking hers aloud – another new sensation for her – but she would overcome it. She had never been shy, not even as a child. She was used to feeling awkward, out of place, confused, obscurely angry, and always, at the bottom of it all, alone and perhaps even frightened. But not shy. Like him, she had not dared to allow any softness into her life, for fear it would overmaster her and make her weak. This was different.Shewas different.
He was smiling down at her, his thumbs gently moving over the layers of fabric that covered her body. The inward curve of her back, just now, below her stays. The thin muslin gown and fine linen petticoats separated under his touch, the muslin riding up, the slightly heavier and rougher linen resisting the pressure and still clinging to her frame, tickling her hot skin, chafing it pleasurably, just a little. It was the lightest of contacts, and yet it made her tremble, it held so much promise.
‘You know it wasn’t just that, though it began with that. I was lying to myself when I refused to accept, weeks ago, that I cared for you, and then that I loved you. And yet I could not think of anything but you. I lost all interest in my comfortable, pointless life and in its idle amusements. I would lie awake at night, tormenting myself with the pictures in my head, and the sensations I could too easily recall. The softness of your lips, the fullness of them, so that I could not help but bite them. The sharp jolt of desire when you bit me back. Your beautiful breasts, and how you gasped and arched against me when I worshipped them with my mouth. My fingers in your curls… Yours there, too, trusting me so wonderfully, as I will never forget. It wasn’t even that I wanted the delicious release I knew I could have with you. I did, I do, of course. You must feel me aroused against you now.’ He was there, unavoidable, insistent, against the softness of her belly. She’d been aware of it all the time he was speaking, heat pooling where her muslin gown met the buckskin of his breeches. She bit her lip and nodded, pressing herself shamelessly against him, and was glad to hear a little gasp escape him too. Her arms had been about his neck, innocently enough, but she freed them now, moving down over the soft wool that covered his broad back, her palms caressing it, faltering a little till she could put her seeking hands on his leather-clad thighs, his taut buttocks, and pull him closer yet.
‘Oh, my love, that feels so good. I always knew it would. But more than my own pleasure I wanted you, I need you, moaning and crying my name, over and over, coming so hard and so long that you forget the world and everything in it, and “Max” is all you know.’
She knew that he would do it, and she longed for it with every part of her being. ‘Max…’ she sighed, and he groaned, and claimed her mouth in a wordless, ruthless confirmation that she met with equal fierceness.
‘I will make you scream it,’ he told her a moment later, as he feathered little kisses across her lips and hot cheeks. ‘But not, I fear, here in your father’s study.’
Allegra had not known that amusement and desire could both threaten to overwhelm her at once. She did not know whether to continue kissing him, or bury her face in his coat and laugh till she was too weak to stand. She could, because he would hold her and not let her fall. Between the two impulses, she could barely speak coherently. ‘It’s true,’ she murmured. ‘Closed doors mean little in this house, because my sisters…’
