Chapter Twenty
“Come back tobed,” coaxed Allan.
By the evidence of the light seeping in around the edges of the drapes, it was full daylight outside, but they still had the rest of the morning to live through before the assault on the cellars.
“I cannot sleep,” Mel replied.
Allan held out his arms. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
Although they had met less than two weeks ago, and had been lovers for only a few days, it seemed to Mel that she had loved Allan forever. She went easily into his embrace, and snuggled with him under the covers.
He slept naked, though she had not yet discovered whether that was a habit or a reaction to her presence, and he soon helped her out of the night rail she had donned before leaving the warm bed.
He yelped when she began to explore him with chilled hands, but grabbed them back when she drew away with an apology. “You’ll warm up fast enough,” he promised, and he was right.
Last night, they had coupled with frantic haste, needing to burn off all the anguish of the near kidnapping of their daughters and the threat to Cornelius and Thomasina, and their horror at the fates of so many poor prostitutes.
This morning, they came together at their leisure, taking their time to explore one another’s bodies, murmuring words of encouragement and appreciation. Slowly, the passion built, untilthe tempo was not enough to meet the need spiraling outward from where they touched, belly to belly, chest to chest, hands roaming wherever they could reach. Rising in urgency and tension where they joined, the sweet agony that Mel had only learned in Allan’s arms, though she had been a wife for three years long ago.
All too soon, Mel was as wordless as a newborn child, all language fled, begging for completion in gasps and moans. Allan’s beloved face above her was distorted with the effort of holding back to wait for her.
His eyes met hers. He smiled and changed his angle and his pace, and in a few breaths the sweetness in her peaked and exploded. She managed to muffle her scream. Allan moved powerfully inside her and the explosion went on and on. As it faded, he stiffened and groaned.
In the tower, he had shouted. It was a pity they no longer had that privacy.
He lowered himself so most of his weight was on the bed, shifting her onto her side. Mel rested, treasuring their closeness. It might have been fifteen minutes later when he said, “Good morning, Melody.”
“It has been so far,” she replied, eliciting a chuckle.
“‘Good morning’ was my wish for you, my love. I hope you have a good morning.”
My love. Allan had been dropping endearments like that into his private conversations with her. She tried not to take it seriously. The warmth, the longing for more—they would only make the inevitable end of the affair more painful. Her lectures to herself didn’t help. She was head over heels in love with the man, and when he walked away, she was going to be devastated.
But that was a problem for another day. She intended to enjoy every moment of them being lovers, and let her broken heart wait for another day.
Allan, however, appeared to read her mind—as usual. “Melody, I need you to know something. It’s about afterward. After this is over.”
No! It is too soon. Mel fought the urge to put her hands over her ears and composed her face so it did not show her pain.
“What about after?” she said.
“I shall do it properly after,” he said. “On bended knee, with flowers. But I need you to know now. Don’t give me your answer, if you are not sure of it, but Melody, you are the beat of my heart and the fire in my veins, the breath in my lungs and the joy in my life. I want to go through life with you. I want to make babies with you—little brothers and sisters for Harriet and Lydia. I want to marry you and keep you forever by my side.”
It was so much the opposite of what Mel expected that she simply stared at him. After a moment, he sighed and moved off her. “Not the reaction I was hoping for,” he said, perhaps more to himself than to her.
Mel went to open her mouth and realized it was already gaping. “Allan,” she said, “you cannot have thought. You are one of the highest born men in the land. I am gentry at best, and hardly that. I make a living snooping into other people’s secrets. I am not a fit match for you.”
Allan made an impatient gesture. “You mean you do not want to bind yourself to a penniless aristocrat who is nearing forty years and needed to be a male escort to buy food and clothing. You do not need to let me down easily, Mel. I know I am not worthy of a lady like you.”
Am I hearing things?Mel shut her eyes tightly, gave her head a quick if miniature shake, and summoned all her courage. “I have fallen in love with you,” she admitted. “But I never expected you to love me in return.”
He pushed himself up on his elbow, hope lightening his expression. “Well,” he said. “I do so love you. Melody, you area wonderful woman. Of course I love you. And respect you, and admire you. I have been courting you all week. I have been arguing with myself for days about whether I ought to tell you how I feel.”
“But I am poor,” Mel protested. “And thirty-two. And a commoner.”
“I do not care about any of that, and you don’t need to care either. If you love me, and I love you, and we both love our daughters, then let’s be a family. Will you marry me, Melody?” He grimaced, and made a cutting motion with his free hand. “No! I am not going to ask you yet. I want to propose to you properly.”
She wasn’t at all sure what her face was saying to him, but he must have been pleased with it, for he leaned closer and kissed her—a tender sweet kiss that brought tears to her eyes, for it promised a happy future that she had never believed possible for her.
