Sorcha MacMurrough - Rakehell Regency 08 - The Model Master PDF

The Model Master
Book Eight of The Rakehell Regency Series

Sorcha MacMurrough
A chance at redemption?
Handsome and fierce warrior Michael Avenel has been to
hell and back during the Peninsular War. Now paralysed from
the waist down, he is convinced his life is over until a desperate
young woman comes to his door seeking help one fateful night.
Beautiful Bryony Wells was forced to endure an abusive
marriage at the hands of a depraved husband for the sake of
her sons. Now widowed, with her eldest boy set to inherit their
fathers property, she grows ever more fearful for the childrens
safety at the hands of her evil in-laws.
Fleeing from their family mansion to start a decent new life
where they can grow up happy and loved, she stumbles into
Michaels lifeand heart.
Working as his secretary, Bryony finds him a model
employer, with his mastery soon extending to her body and
soul. For as their intimacy increases, she is certain she is falling
in love with her enigmatic employer, and that her feelings might
actually be returned.
With Bryony working by his side, Michael has a reason to try
to recover his health. The beginnings of hope that the woman
he has come to love above all else might actually be his for the
asking.
But once he has Bryony, he will do anything to keep her, as
Bryony's evil brother in law Derek will stop at nothing to secure
the family fortunes as his own.
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Can Michael ever be the man Bryony needs him to be? Or

will their love become just another casualty of Michael's
dreadful long war he has fought so hard for, and nearly died
for?
Can Bryony ever escape the ghosts from her past, and
through her love for Michael, help him escape from his own?
Michaels eyes flew open and he snatched at her wrist,

sorely tempted by her caress, but petrified of his own
reaction. Of ruining everything he had built between them,
everything he had come to love about his new life with her
as his companion. This is madness. You cant possibly-
I do. I do want you, Michael, she protested, her voice
trembling with urgent need. Youve been kind, generous,
tender with me. Tender with the children. Why should I not
feel attracted to you? Desire you?
Michael gave a snort of self-mocking laughter. You can
have your pick of any eligible and successful man about
Town. How can I ever compete with that?
Bryony stroked his face lovingly. Youre right. There is no
competition. I went for eligible and successful once before,
and look at the disaster which befell me.
It wasnt love. It was infatuation. The product of the idle
fantasies of a young girl with no understanding of the world,
or men.
"Ive learned some hard lessons since then. One of them
is that true love exists. In all of the most unlikely places, true,
but it does exist. I know because Ive found it here with you."
"Bryony"
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She shook her head. Im not asking you to love me in

return, Michael. Just let me love you. Let me move our
relationship forward to the final physical one. Weve shared
everything else. Why not that? I need to know. Need to be
one with you. I find I long for you so badly, I can barely stop
my hands from shaking when I touch you. The thought of
you touching me arouses my body so, I can scarcely
breathe.
He stared at her, hardly daring to believe her words. No,
its not possible
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REVIEWS:
"Wow, can this author ever write the most remarkable
heroes, and sensual love stories. She particularly excels at
wounded heroes home from the Napoleonic war. I thought
Alexander Deveril and Will Joyce were brilliant in two of her
previous novels in the series, so memorable I can recall them
by name!
"But Michael has whole new dimensions and challenges,
and the heroine is amazingly feisty without being a shrew. She
has a real sense of her power as a woman, and uses it to heal,
not harm. Through her love, Michael is able to develop into the
perfect family man, and a hero on the domestic front as well as
on the battlefield.
"Also noteworthy is her command of the history of the period,
with many exquisite little details that bring us right into the
enthralling world she creates.
"As for the love scenes, well, the heat between Michael and
Bryony scorches the pages in this wonderful Regency romance.
Sheer brilliance, from the remarkable opening scene, to the
shocking conclusion and wonderful happily ever after ending."
Evelyn Trimborn, Harlequin Hearts
"Absolutely gripping, from the first sentence, to the way the
couple meet, to the incredible ending. The hero is quite unique,
as is the author's Gothic Regency atmosphere, both brooding,
with secrets aplenty in the dark corners.
"Bryony Wells has some shocking secrets of her own, and
through the power of love, all is revealed and healed. The
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Rakehells are in top form as usual, and we also meet some

wonderful secondary characters I feel sure we will be meeting
again.
"But as always, the romance takes center stage in this
movingly erotic story of love against all odds. The Model
Master is truly unforgettable."
Annabelle Stevens, Love's Sweet Song
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Dedication: To everyone who has fought this long

war.
Copyright USA, UK and Worldwide the author 2003
With additional material, 2009
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be
reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means,
electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, or by any information and storage retrieval
system, without permission in writing from the
copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places
and incidents are the product of the authors
imagination, and any resemblance to any actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely
coincidental.
ISBN: 978-1-58345-127-4
Published by HerStory Books
9511 Shore Road, Suite 514
Brooklyn New York 11209
www.HerStoryBooks.com
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The Model Master

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HerStory Books
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October 31, 1815

Chapter One
The fierce October wind howled like a banshee, rattling the
window panes. Lightning flashed and thunder pounded
overhead, almost as if the storm were situated directly above
the old house. The rain lashed down unmercifully, the clicking
against the mullioned windows indicating it was already
beginning to turn to sleet.
Michael Avenel, stoking the fire in the guest room he had
been occupying, shuddered at the eerie ululations of the wind.
He smiled sardonically. Really, it was too absurd. Anyone
would think he was afraid of the storm. Or afraid to be alone. In
fact, that was his usual lot in life.
He sighed. He knew his shudder was due to the enormity of
the act he was about to commit. It was a horrendous thing to do
to his best friend Blake. The doctor had been so kind to him. He
had done everything in his power to help him get back his life,
and the use of his legs after the war.
But it had been a year and a half now since the battle of
Toulouse, and Michael had had enough. He was so
inexpressibly weary of the daily struggle. He just wanted it all to
be over at last.
Thus it was that he was sitting alone in an empty house in
the spacious ground-floor bedroom his friend had allocated for
his visit. He looked at the fine bottle of claret in one hand, and
the bottle of laudanum in the other.
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Blake and his wife Arabella were safely out of the way for the
night at an All Hallows Eve house party over at Jerome Manor
with his cousins. As soon as they had gone, Michael had
persuaded the lone servant not already on his half-holiday to go
join the others at the village dance.
On the morrow, everyone would be shocked and sad to
discover his corpse. But Blake was a man of the world who had
looked death in the face many times before. He would be
saddened, but would understand.
Michael gave another wry grin as he finished uncorking the
wine. Committing suicide in his friends house was of course
the height of bad manners.
This is indeed social death, old chap, he said in his best
aristocratic accent, a bitter reminder of his once-happy and
prosperous past. But no, he would not think about his brothers,
his parents now, of all times. It was best this way for everyone.
He toasted himself with another twist of his lips, his best
effort at a smile, and drank deeply of the wine. He might as well
enjoy it. And he had a second bottle at the ready. Not to
mention the champagne. After all, it wasnt as if he had to worry
about a killer hangover the next morning.
At that thought he laughed again. At least his black sense of
humour hadnt deserted him, he reflected with a sigh.
Michael shook his head. To be fair, no one had deserted
him. He had taken himself out of the world ever since he had
been shipped back to England last year when the war had
ended.
He'd allowed the report that hed been killed to remain
unchallenged. He had sworn Blake and the rest of his set, the
Rakehells, to secrecy. What was the point in telling his family
he was still breathing, but imprisoned in a living death?
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He cursed the fates once more in the roundest terms, though

the foul imprecations gave him little relief. To think he had gone
through almost the whole of the war without a scratch, only to
be wounded so terribly in the final battle. A battle that need
never have been fought, for Napoleon had actually abdicated in
Paris several days before. The momentous news had not
filtered through to the front lines until almost a fortnight later.
What a tragic waste of all those young lives, French as well as
English.
Michael sighed and took another sip of the wine, rolling it
around his tongue. Perhaps he should have taken this
irrevocable step in his own home at Bath? Got himself a paid
companion or two, or even more? Really made a night of it?
Not that he was up to much with his bad back and crippled
legs, but still, he could just about manage. He wouldnt even
have to worry about the clap where he was going.
He gave another wry laugh, then sighed. A nice handful of
warm flesh, a last kiss on the lips would have been fun A
night he would never forget. Because he would never
remember anything again. Not joy, and certainly not pain.
He could hear his friends the Rakehells telling him it was
wrong, a waste, a sin to give way to despair. He knew he
himself would say the same to anyone he cared about. But
Michael was also sure he would help a friend along if he knew
someone were suffering as much as he. Hed hinted to Blake
more than once. His old school friend had either pretended he
didnt understand what he was driving at, or had looked so
furious Michael had taken his reaction as a point-blank refusal.
Since Michael had always staunchly rejected anything for his
pain, treating it as a much-deserved penance for all of his sins,
he couldnt even ask for the medicine and then stockpile the
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drug for one final fatal dose.

So Michael had bided his time, and waited. And planned. So
he had watched. Waited. Schemed. Until finally he had seen
that if he couldnt steal the laudanum out of his friends drug
cabinet, always kept locked and with only one key, he would
have to pilfer it from Blakes medical bag.
But that would mean emptying the bottle, or convincing the
good doctor that it had broken, or leaked. In the end he had
managed to set up an accident in which a badly-corked bottle
had seemingly spilled its contents into the lining.
He had just shut the bag and stuffed the small second bottle
into his pocket when Arabella had entered his room to wheel
him into supper.
She was a lovely woman, Blake a dashed lucky man.
Michael hated to think of her being the one to find him dead and
it marring her young life forever.
However, he could not afford to think about that at this point
in the game. The clock was ticking fast. Now that he had
secured his prize at last, it was time to use it. All of his papers
and affairs were in order. He had planned everything down to
the last letter. All he had to do was pick the right moment.
At the end of this bottle, he told himself, taking another hefty
swig of wine. He twirled the phial in his hand, marveling at how
something which looked so ordinary and innocent could be so
deadly.
He stroked the brown glass with an almost lover-like caress.
How had the rough draft of that strange poem by that young
surgeon friend of Blakes read?
Darkling I listen; and for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death.
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Yes. Poor young Keats. Not much of a surgeon by all

accounts, but his poetry seemed rather interesting.
It would be over, finished. No more pain. No more pleasure
either, of course. But no more struggle, no more remorse over
the life hed led. There would be an end at last to the
nightmares which had haunted him ever since that fateful
battle. Since he had looked Death in the eye and quailed.
Death was his gift, which he had delivered day after day with
his hands and weapons to the deserving. Perhaps even the
undeserving at times. But he had been a soldier, and never
questioned for a moment the reasons he had fought in the
Iberian Peninsula. To save lives. Remove tyranny and
oppression.
To slaughter anyone who disagreed with his notions of
justice
He felt the bile rise in his throat as he relived that horrific day
in southern France. The crash and bang of the guns, the roars
and screams of the dying. The cheering of the British troops
egging each other on as theyd reaped corpses in that bloody
field.
It had seemed so easy at the time, until one boom of the
guns had sent searing pieces of shrapnel into his back and
legs, melting through him like a hot knife through butter.
Michael almost cursed the luck that had given him his
closest friend Blake as his doctor when his battered body had
been brought into the hospital tent.
Anyone else would have just given up and left him to die.
Operated on other wounded with a better chance of recovery.
Blake had moved heaven and earth to save him, and now here
he was. Wheelchair bound, in constant pain, for the most part
impotent, not able to go back to his old life even if he wanted to.
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He thought of Antonys speech in Antony and Cleopatra.

I will be
A bridegroom in my death, and run intot
As to a lovers bed.
One last pat on his little friend, and
No. Why even bother? Knowing his luck he wouldnt rise to
the occasion this time. His desire was far too unpredictable,
though when the sensation had first returned he had hoped it
was a sign he was truly on the mend.
He shook his head. No, he didnt want to depress himself in
his last moments on earth if he failed. And if he succeeded?
Then there would be all the trouble of getting cleaned up and
respectable once more for when his friends came home to find
him. He did have some dignity left, however bare a shred.
Michael sighed. He could of course still change his mind,
keep the drug for another time. But he might never get such a
chance again. With the storm bearing down on the district so
ferociously, and all of the parties for his friends and their
servants to attend, there was no likelihood of being disturbed
here as there was in his own home. Besides, he was relying
upon Blake to take care of everything as per his instructions
once he was dead. No, it had to be here, and now.
With his glass and the two bottles clamped between his
thighs, he wheeled over to the desk once more, just to make
sure everything was there. The letter, the portfolio of
instructions, his last will and testament.
Good. He was ready.
He drained the goblet and began to uncork the champagne.
Might as well go out in style, he decided. He drank down one
glass, enjoying the pleasant fizzing sensation, the excellent
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vintage. The second time, he filled the vessel about one-quarter

full.
He was just about to put the drug into it when he looked
around. For some strange reason he wondered if he should try
to snuff out all the candles the servants had left blazing for him.
Out, out, brief candle
As if it mattered. They would gutter in another few hours,
and all would be dark.
The thought of being alone and dead in the dark gave him
some pause. He shook his head. The graves a cold and dark
place. Just let it go, Michael. Its finished. No regrets.
Yet even as he told himself this, he could see the blood on
his hands, hear the crash of guns, the whinnying of panicked
horses, and someone screaming. See the blank white faces as
if in a sea of fog, their eyes sightless, gaping at
A flash of lightning and crash of thunder set him to pouring
the laudanum with trembling hands.
He stared at the goblet. With a final sigh he moved it toward
his lips. They parted.
He took one mouthful of the bitter mixture.
He had just swallowed the first tentative sip when he started,
and screamed in terror. The glass fell onto the wooden floor,
shattering into a thousand shards.
Michael gaped. Stared again. Every hair on his body leapt to
attention. He was sure he had to be hallucinating. Perhaps
even already dead?
For staring back at him was the most beautiful face he had
ever seen. The flashes flickering overhead rendered her face
bleached, starkly white. Her mouth opened in a silent scream,
and then she was waving. Beckoning him to Heaven?
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Or to Hell?
But no, she was waving him to the front door
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Chapter Two
At last a sound other than the storm and those inside
Michaels head filtered through.
Help me! Help me, please! she begged.
The ethereally lovely woman was real. And in trouble.
Thoughts of the highwaymen who had committed carnage
throughout the nearby woods not too long ago raced through
his head in an instant.
Michaels wheelchair crunched through the shattered crystal
goblet as he pushed backwards from the desk, still trembling
over what he had so nearly done.
Relief at his reprieve flooded through him despite his
seemingly firm resolve of the moment before. Michael had not
rated himself as any more superstitious than the next man, but
he simply had to take this as a sign that he was making a
mistake.
In any event, the glass was broken now, all the laudanum
gone. He was sure the swig he had taken, diluted as it was with
so much champagne, was not enough to do more than render
him sleepy, perhaps even unconscious for a time.
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The woman needed his help. So help he would, as best he

could. If only to point her in the right direction to find Blake if
she needed a doctor, though the storm was so fierce he
wouldnt want his dog to be out on such a night as this, let
alone the lovely young woman.
Im coming! Im coming! he called above the din.
The storms ferocity had not abated in the least. Rather, it
was now lashing the house with such fury it shook it to the very
foundations. Michael wheeled down the hall to the front door as
fast as he could, and turned the key in the lock abruptly before
flinging it wide.
The woman fell in though the portal, landing partly on top of
him in his chair. A drenched bundle very like a sack of potatoes
dropped upon him heavily, knocking the wind out of him.
He froze and stared for a moment, stunned by the sensation
the woman and the parcel evoked. It was like a thousand
caterpillars wriggling just under the surface of his skin on his
legs.
She groaned and wept, one hand touching his, the other
brushing against his loins accidentally before she managed to
drag herself to her feet once more and stood trembling before
him.
His legs continued to throb with both pain and something
that could almost described as pleasure. For he was sure he
could feel the rain dripping from the woman and parcel
saturating his trousers. Could feel a slow but definite stirring
looking at the lovely girl, he who had not felt anything for so
long.
He gaped down at his lap, wondering what sorcery she had
worked upon him, to touch him so intimately and then leave this
gift.
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No, not a gift. Not potatoes. A child. A young boy, about five
if he had to guess, unwrapping the burlap to look more closely.
His arousal at the lovely young woman's look and touch, and
relief at feeling so alive was instantly replaced by alarm.
He glanced up and discerned what she was clutching to her
ample bosom. It was another child of about three. He could feel
the heat rolling off the boys in waves. Could see the splotches
of red on their faces, behind their ears, their necks.
Michael was no doctor, but he could recognize measles
when he saw them.
The child in his lap began to cough now, great gouts of
green sputum gushing into his lap and down Michaels trouser
legs.
At the same time, the lad in the girls arms began to whimper
feebly. Mummy, my eyes, cant see, cant see! Hurt! Hurt!
He gazed at the woman for a moment, wondering how the
children could have come to such a terrible pass. Was she
some sort of simpleton? Or careless of their well-being?
But no, she was terrified for them, her dark blue eyes wide
with fear and confusion. She was very young, no more than
twenty if he had to guess. Her gown was torn and covered with
the most unspeakable mire.
The children too were in ragged clothes already far too small
for them, their only outerwear the burlap ticking evidently taken
from some old sacks. All their clothes bespoke better days once
long ago. She wasnt careless of them, she was povertystricken.
Please, please help them, she begged. Ill do anything.
Work in the fields, the kitchen. She fixed him with a hard stare.
Ill even work on my back if I have to. Theyre all I have left in
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the world. Im not going to let them die!

Please, its all right, Madam, he soothed, his heart lurching
into his chest at her offer. She was so lovely, an image of her
naked and spread for him appeared in his minds eye.
He scolded himself for even thinking of her in such a manner
given her plight, and dragged his pale blue eyes up to meet
hers.
Im sorry, Madam. Im not the doctor, but I will help you, I
swear it. Its measles. And a chest infection in his case, and an
eye infection in the boy youre holding. We need to get their
fever down and some food into them. Whens the last time you
had anything to eat?
Were even warm, for heavens sake? he asked, his temper
boiling over when she stared at him blankly for a moment as if
she had no understanding of the concept of food and heat.
She shook her head, her eyes glazed. I dont know. I cant
remember. We find what we can when we can.
He listened to the musical lilt in her voice, and detected
some Welsh intonation. Her dirty gown was an expensive one,
sober jet black, about a year out of fashion, and well worn.
Impoverished heiress was his best guess, until she said, Only
please, you mustnt mention to a soul that youve seen me or
the boys. If they find out, theyll force us to go back. Theyll take
them away from me. I couldnt bear it.
At the increasingly frantic tone of her voice, he grasped her
bony hand covered in grime and squeezed.
Its all right. No one is going to hurt you. Or take the boys.
Do you hear? My only interest is in getting the children well,
and assisting you, Madam. In a decent respectable way, he
hastened to add when she looked at him mistrustfully.
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Aye, how many times have I heard that with every single
post Ive tried to secure for myself, she said, her tone bitter.
Well, in my position, Im hardly going to run after you and
overpower you, now am I? He gave the usual twist of the lips
which passed for his smile nowadays. Now shut the door, lass,
before we all catch our deaths, and follow me. He began to
wheel himself backwards.
She did as he requested regarding the portal, but made no
move to step further into the foyer.
Instead she studied carefully the man before her. He was a
handsome man in his early thirties with jet black hair and the
most unusual pair of eyes she had ever seen. They were so
pale blue as to be almost silver in color, and piercing, as if he
could look right though people.
He was scarred in a number of places, with a sabre cut on
his left brow which bisected it in two, giving him a look of
perpetual inquiry, while the one on his jaw gave him a
permanent scowl of disapproval. Or was it pain? For he was
confined to a Bath chair, and looked so thin and drawn as to be
almost skeletal.
She stared at him with unabashed curiosity, and yes, some
desire too, he could have sworn. He knew how handsome he
had once been. But no one had looked at him like that for a
long time...
He had been quite a ladies man in his day. It had only made
his condition that much harder to bear. He loathed the pity, the
avoidance of him by the kind of woman who once would have
been more than happy to spread her legs and give him her all.
Now they wouldnt even exchange a civil word to him in Bath.
Not that Michael blamed them, for he was grim company,
with little to say for himself, and a perpetual scowl which had
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scared off all but the most stalwart of people long ago. But still,
the women might have at least tried to be civil, make small talk.
It wasnt as if he was going to harm them.
The war, was it? she asked bluntly.
He scowled, eyes blazing. My, you're direct.
Im sorry. Its just She shrugged.
He was already turning the chair around to head into Blakes
examination rooms. It was. And its all right. I would rather you
be direct than tiptoe around the subject. Not even look me in
the eye, as if the loss of the use of my legs has somehow
rendered me invisible."
"No, of course not," she said with obvious indignation.
He felt his heart lift a little, then told himself to stop being so
foolish. She was a vagabond, for Heaven's sake. What matter
what she thought of him, when she would no doubt run away as
soon as the boys were well.
Very kind, I'm sure, but I do have many limitations. Im going
to need your help with fetching and carrying, Madam. But first
you need to get out of those wet things. Go to my room at the
end of the hall and take a shirt and towel from my press. Youre
too filthy to avail yourself of anything else at the minute.
She gave him a cool glance, appraising him candidly once
more. Now whos being direct?
Well, you have to admit you look as though youve been
sleeping rough for the past, er, six months? he guessed,
judging from her faded tan and the fact that the weather, after a
wonderful Indian summer, had only recently begun to turn cold.
Aye, give or take, she admitted.
When youve got out of those wet things, come back down
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the hall, go to the right, and get all the brandy you can find. It'll
be in Blake's drinks cabinet over in the corner behind the door.
Put the lad down here. I promise hell be fine. It looks bad, but
we can treat him. Hes not going to die, I swear. Not if we
intervene now and assist him properly.
But you said you arent even the doctor, she pointed out,
her voice at last beginning to crack under the strain of her
ordeal. My poor baby is blind.
Blake is a close friend and I learned a bit in the Army. Trust
me. It'll be all right.
She looked at him for a long time, and began to relax. All
right. I will, I do trust you. I was just about to give up and go
away when I saw your light and tried the window. I was banging
on the door for ages. Didn't you hear me?
She peered at him more closely, suspecting he might be
drunk. She wasnt sure, but she thought she smelt wine on his
breath, and something more cloying. Medicine for his pain, she
guessed.
What? he said, staring. At length he shook his head. Er,
no, I never heard you knocking. Im sorry. The storm was so
fierce.
And what about the servants? All in bed? she asked,
looking around warily at her surroundings.
All taking their holiday for All Hallows Eve and the church
festival tomorrow. But then I dont suppose you have any idea
what date it is, do you, he added, when he saw her brows draw
together as she did some quick calculations mentally.
She shook her head. None. We left home in April, as soon
as the weather improved. October. Well, nearly November
already. It seems like such a short time in some respects, and
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longer in others. She sighed. It would be good to go to church

again.
God is said to hear our prayers no matter where we are, he
said sententiously. Hes certainly never heard mine, he thought
to himself with a stab of resentment.
Then he stared at the woman who had appeared so
suddenly. Perhaps the Lord had heard him after all?
For she was everything he admired in a woman, with dark
sable hair and the most remarkable eyes, so blue as to be
almost black. She had a lovely heart-shaped face, with a
delicate chin and porcelain brow. She was not clean, and had
been darkened by the sun, though starvation made her look
very pale.
The unrelieved black of her gown rendered her slender body
and bedraggled appearance even more stark. The shocking
contrast of ebony with ivory made him feel overwhelmingly
protective towards her. And the boys, he added to himself
quickly.
He said in a more gentle tone than heretofore, Go on,
before you catch pneumonia. Take some of my clothes,
anything you like, and fetch the brandy.
She nodded. Thank you. But where can I put Gavin?
On the examination table in the doctors study, just through
here.
She followed Michael and laid the toddler down quickly. She
wiped the soaking hair out of her sons eyes. She kissed his
fevered brow, and looked at Michael.
He nodded and tried to manage a tentative smile for the
fraught woman. Hell be all right. I promise you. Here, help me
get this little chap up there as well before you go.
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He raised the child, and she gathered him up into his arms
tenderly. Hes Darren. Thank you for holding him. I hope he
didnt hurt your legs.
Not at all. I dont feel them, dont feel anything below the
waist, he said, though strictly speaking that was no longer true.
Not now that she had arrived
Bryony moved closer to Michael. He helped to lift the child,
brushing the side of her breast with his hand as he did so. She
almost dropped her son in shock at the warm contact. Michael
had to lean into her body even further to stop the child from
falling.
She looked at the handsome man for an instant, reassuring
herself that it had only been an accident. He met her gaze head
on, and she relaxed.
She told herself she had nothing to fear from him. He
couldnt chase after her, and despite his enormous bulk and
huge hands, she had never seen anyone cradle her child so
gently.
At last they got Darren up onto the examination table. She
was panting and staring at Michael as though seeing him again
for the first time.
Im sorry, she said at length, uncertain in the face of the
peculiar feelings her companions brooding nearness evoked.
Im so tired. I must have walked miles with them. I knew there
was a doctors nearby, but I think I got turned around in the
woods.
Sit down before you fall down, he said, the white hot desire
singeing him rendering his tone harsh once more.
Her eyes widened and she plucked at the skirt of her frock.
Oh, no, Im so dirty. Ill just go get those things, as you
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suggested. I promise not to touch or steal anything.

Thats the last thing Im worried about, he growled. If it
helps the three of you, take anything you jolly well like. I cant
bear to think how a genteel family like yourself has been
brought to such a pass.
She stared at him again. He really didnt despise her for
being poor and homeless? I'd like to tell you some time. You
deserve the truth. But not now. Now I need to-
Yes, quite. Off you go, Madam.
With a final nod she scurried to do as he had instructed.
Michael didnt waste any time trying to salvage the childrens
clothing. A pair of shears soon had the chesty child Darrens
shirt off, and he began to work on getting his sodden trousers
removed. He did the same with young Gavin, and threw a
blanket over them both.
He began to peer through the small glass panels of the
medicine cabinet to see what he needed. A pity there wasnt a
key. Blake had taken it with him, attached to his watch chain as
always, and he was miles away at Jerome Manor. He could try
to pick the lock, or he could simply break the doors. It was an
emergency, after all. Blake would understand.
He began to work at the lock with the poker from the hearth
first. When that failed, he shielded his eyes and smashed the
glass. He ran the poker round the window frame to removed
any jagged shards, and began to help himself to the medicines.
With a shudder he looked at the bottle of laudanum as if it were
a coiled snake.
He could still No, not when there were children in the
house, and this poor young woman needed him. Not when he
had been given a sign.
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The woman came running into the room a few moments

later, her eyes wide with alarm. She had changed into one of
his shirts, but had not fastened it fully. Her shoulders slumped
in relief, baring her cleavage and stomach down to her navel.
Im sorry. I heard glass smashing. I didnt know what to think.
I needed to get into the medicine cabinet, but had no key,
he managed to say, his mouth so dry he thought his tongue had
shriveled. Watch the broken glass.
He stared at her like a man worshipping a goddess. For
indeed she was divine. There was no other word to describe
the creamy valleys of her body, which despite her thinness
reminded him of a lushly rolling hillside.
He swallowed hard past the lump of desire lodged in his
throat and asked, Whats you name? Unless your want me to
keep calling you Madam, of course.
Bryony, she said truthfully, not wanting to tell more lies
than absolutely necessary to this man who had been so kind to
her thus far.
Very well, Bryony. Im Michael. Michael Avenel. You arent
squeamish, are you?
No, but I dont think Im very good at nursing. I mean, we
had servants for that sort of thing, and the children are hardly
ever sick, and-
Dont start to blub now, he said harshly, trying to take his
mind off the fact that she was completely naked under his shirt.
He could see a shadow at the apex of her thighs which filled
him with all sorts of wild desires and imaginings. It had been so
long And she was exquisite.
It will be all right, Bryony. Well both do the best we can,
lass. Tie back your sopping hair with a towel or something, and
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go off to get the brandy.

She came back a short time later with her hair wrapped as
though she were wearing a nuns veil, with two bottles of
brandy and the decanter.
Good. Now fetch some hot water, some cotton cloths,
peppermint, and the mustard and bread. Then come back here
to build up the fire until its blazing.
He stared at her as she paused to fasten the garment
around her curvaceous body. For a moment she almost
shimmered in front of him, like a mirage in the desert. Or a
spirit? A vision of heaven?
Damn. He could feel himself growing more and more fanciful
and sleepy from the laudanum and wine he had consumed.
And make me some coffee, please. I need to stay awake and
alert.
So do I, she said numbly.
He nodded. You can rest soon, I promise. You just have to
hold yourself together for a little while longer. Youve been very
brave, Bryony. A good mother. You just need to be brave for a
short time more, help me assist them. We can do this together,
without the doctor, all right?
Her terrified trembling began to subside. Thank you, Mr.
Avenel. Youre very kind.
He stared at her. Kind? He had been a magnificent bringer
of death in his day. The very thought of him saving a life would
have been absurd. Yet he had helped his brother and his mess
mates when they had been ill
Go get those things now, theres a good girl.
She nodded. With one small hiccoughing sob she left.
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He busied himself measuring out some quinine for fever and

some calamine lotion for their skin. He almost reached for the
laudanum, but dragged his hand back and got out the valerian
instead.
He even resisted the small empty phials he could have used
to pour off some of the powerful narcotic. He had been a fool.
The Avenels were no cowards. Nor would he be now.
Get thee behind me, Satan, he muttered as he wheeled
away from the drug cabinet, putting his back to it.
Bryony needed him now. He wasn't much of a knight in
shining armor, but he was all she had. He'd never been a very
religious man, but he was sure her arrival was no coincidence.
That her stopping him from committing suicide had to be a sign.
Fate had taken a hand. Michael would just have to wait to
see what cards he'd been dealt, for good or ill. He would help
the luckless children with the little ability he possessed, and try
to keep his hands off their stunningly beautiful mother.
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Chapter Three
Michael's resolve to keep his distance from the gorgeous
Bryony was easier said than done when she returned a short
time later with her booty from the kitchen, including some
steaming coffee.
Most people were standoffish because of his wheelchair, as
if what was wrong with him might infect them too.
But she came right up to him to hand him his coffee, and
waited patiently while he took the first sip.
"All right?"
"Perfect."
She nodded shyly, pleased, and patted his shoulder.
The warmth of her little fingers coursed through him, and she
looked surprised and even mildly alarmed at the solid, bunched
muscles under his jacket.
She tiptoed away from him like a timid mouse, and began to
lay out her supplies. He took another sip of the coffee, and
watched her graceful movements as she worked.
"Very good. Let's get started."
"Yes, sir."
Michael had her wrap the bread in cloth, soak it, then wet the
powdered mustard seed, spread it on the bread, and slap the
whole onto Darrens chest.
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The boy grizzled at the contact with the hot poultice, but
Michael trapped his thin wrists with one hand so he could not
try to haul it off himself. Michael flattened it so it covered nearly
all of the lads chest, and told him to breath deeply.
Now the peppermint, into this small basin, Michael
instructed. Turn his face this way, and drape a thick towel over
his head and the basin, sealing the steam in. Usually he would
sit up for this, but hes far too weak at the minute. Just make
sure he doesnt choke on his own sputum. You can keep his
windpipe clear by pulling up on his neck with one hand, pushing
his forehead to tilt it with your other, and turning the head to the
basin.
Like this? she asked, meeting his gaze as he observed her
working with her small hands.
Very good. Now drape him. Well need to change the water
about every ten minutes to keep up the steam effect.
He picked up one of the bottles she had brought. In the
meantime were going to bathe him with the brandy from head
to toe to get the fever down. You do that whilst I have a look at
young Gavin here.
He examined him and ordered, Cucumber if you can find
any, honey and water, and cabbage leaves for his eyes. Wash
the vegetables well. We also need to get his fever down. Ill
consult with Blakes herbals on the blindness.
Blake?
Dr. Blake Sanderson, the doctor who lives here with his wife
Arabella.
I see. And youre his friend?
He nodded. Thats right.
Why is my son blind? she asked quietly.
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A complication of the measles, I fear. Its rare, but I have

heard of it. His vision should return eventually. But the poor little
mite must be terrified. Just keep talking to him, soothing him.
Hell know your voice even if he doesnt understand the words
or whats happened to him.
She nodded. I will.
She came back a short time later with the cucumber, cut into
inch-thick slices which she had immersed in a bowl full of cool
water.
Very good, he said, looking up from the book and satisfied
he was doing all he could for both boys for the moment.
I remembered this from when I was a child.
She applied the compresses and bathed Gavin with the
brandy. As she did so she spoke to both boys.
Were safe now. No more nasty storm. Were safe and
warm, with nice Mr. Avenel here to help us. We wont let
anything bad happen to you. Were going to be dry, and warm
and clean. Were going to have something to eat, milk and
bread. Maybe even an egg, or some broth or gruel if were
really lucky.
And were going to have a nice place to live, and warm
clothes. Maybe a little room somewhere, with a small bed for
the three of us. Also a hearth, and wood for a lovely roaring fire.
Perhaps if were really lucky we might have a book or two.
And a puppy? Darren asked faintly.
Yes, even a puppy, though you would both have to help
Mummy look after him. I would have to have work to support all
of us, you see, and so you would need to be quiet and still, and
not cry.
We would still have to hide so no one found us, Darren
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sighed. We couldnt stay at the nice little room.

She tried to sound bright and cheerful. We could try. Even if
we couldnt, we would just move on again like we always have.
Take the puppy with us. We might find a better place.
All the places been bad, Mummy. Bad men.
I know, love.
Bad men mean to Mummy.
I know. But theyre not going to be mean to you.
Father mean to Mummy. I remember, Darren revealed.
She felt herself flush, and did her best to avert her gaze from
Michaels glittering pale blue one.
Yes, but Father is dead now. Now its Uncle Derek and
Grandmother who are mean. So were here.
In the woods, little Gavin piped up. But its so cold. I liked
summer, but cold now. Nasty. Muddy. Rain. Wind. Tunda.
Thats right, love. Thunder. But were safe now. Mr. Avenel
has helped us, taken us in. We can stay here tonight.
You no be mean to my Mummy? Darren asked plaintively.
No, lad, I wouldnt dream of being mean to your Mummy,
Michael said gently, not daring to look up for fear she might see
the tears in his eyes.
Bryony watched him as his huge hands stroked the cool
cloth down her sons brow, neck and chest. How could anyone
so enormous be so gentle?
She shivered at the thought of his hands upon her. Her
husband had been a large man, but this one was a giant by
comparison, easily over six foot five if she had to guess. One of
his hands was enough to cradle both of her own with plenty of
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room to spare. Why, he could curve them to span her waist

around and never even touch it.
She looked at Michael openly now, no longer attempting to
shield her gaze. Thank you. This is more than I deserve.
Deserving doesnt come into it, Bryony. You need my help.
Im happy to give it. Im sorry if I was churlish before. Im just
not accustomed to company, least of all a ladys.
She stared at him in puzzlement. I thought you said Blake is
married, to Arabella, I think you said. Does she not count as a
lady?
He scowled. Yes, of course. But shes a married woman.
You I take to be a lone widow, and therefore in need of my
protection and respect. I ought not to take my, my pain out on
you.
I dont mind. Im used to it. My husband had no such
scruples. Nor his brother either, should I be foolish enough to
agree to marry him.
I see. So you ran away? Have been living off the land in the
forest, trying to find work? he guessed.
Yes.
And the men have seen a desperate and, if I may say so,
lovely young widow, and sought to take advantage?
Just so, she said with quiet dignity.
Are you hurt, injured?
Not now, no. I was when my husband died, and shortly
thereafter. A couple of times since. Not raped, no, she said,
observing his alarm. Mauled a few times. Hence the woods.
Most of the time I can beg some bread or supplies from a
housewife who feels sorry for the boys. Occasionally I run into a
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man or two, though.

He looked completely outraged. Not to mention the fact that
the woods here were the favourite haunt of a band of
highwaymen not all that long ago, he said with a shake of his
head. Good Lord, child, you have no idea how fortunate youve
been. Im amazed youve survived as long as you have
unmolested.
She shrugged. The locals hereabouts are superstitious.
There are the ruins of the old monastery not too far away. Few
people ever go there. If they happen to, we can usually
convince them theres a ghost or something nasty.
She gave a small smile. If they chance to get really curious,
there are several places we can hide. Ive made a sort of frame
of wattle and leaves. It looks like the forest floor. We all lie
under it and play the quiet game, dont we, boys?
What about food, warmth? Michael asked, shocked.
Rabbit snares and whatever I can manage to dig up. Im not
proud of stealing, but Ive tried to earn a living decently. All
anyone wants is temporary labour, or me to earn an indecent
one. I have a tinder box, an old cooking pot. We manage.
Michael scowled, furious at the indignities this delicate little
blossom had had to suffer. We can talk about your future when
Blake and Arabella get back. I give you my word, were not
going to cast you out now that youve found us.
Thank you. I believe you. Plenty of other men have said it,
but they lied.
He frowned. Youre just saying that because you know I
could never-
Im sorry to hear it, she said, looking at him so warmly that
he blushed. But there are other ways to give a woman
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pleasure, and receive it, you know. You shouldnt feel like your
life is over.
And what would you know about it, Madam? he hissed
angrily.
Were you married when it happened? Or are you married
now? she asked, calm in the face of his anger, but wondering
why the thought gave her such a pang.
No, never. And never likely to be, he snapped.
I would have given anything to have had my husband leave
me alone, she admitted quietly with a shake of her head. Or
anything for just one tiny bit of kindness, holding my hand,
kissing me like he cared about me.
She shook her head again, freeing herself once more from
the gloomy thoughts which threatened to drag her down.
He gazed at her in disbelief, finding it hard to imagine that
any man in his right mind would not simply worship the ground
this sable-haired goddess walked upon. For she was nothing if
not heavenly. Her face, her figure, the sound of her voice
Theres great pleasure in the little things. At least my
grandad always said so. He had a bad fall off a horse. My
grandmother was very devoted to him. Affectionate. Bryony
reached over and took his hand for a brief moment, until he
panicked and yanked it away.
Im sorry, she said, shaking her head as if in a daze. I
shouldnt have done that. I just wanted to thank you for helping
us.
He could smell the blood, hear the screams, the bang of the
guns.
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Chapter Four
Michael sat up straight, forcing the painful memories of the
war to return to the dark recesses of his mind before they took
him over completely.
Ive told you, Bryony, I dont want you on your back. You
can stop acting like Im interested in you in that way. And I
would appreciate you not flirting with me either. Its too bad of
you to make a mockery of a cripple in such a shocking
manner.
She laughed then, a musical sound which lifted his heart as
well as increased his anger. Was she actually mocking him!
Flirting. Hmm. I cant recall the last time I was in a social
situation either. The opportunity to attend balls and soirees
around Millcote Forest is rather lacking.
He shuddered, thinking what the poor young woman had
had to endure amongst the gloomy old ruins, and sighed.
I do apologise. I was being harsh and churlish again. Im
really not myself at the moment. The storm has made me feel
so unsettled, he excused himself.
Really? I cant imagine why, she said with a small smile as
the thunder cracked over head so loudly, it sounded as though
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the roof were caving in.

He shot her a sharp look. Pert little miss, arent you?
She removed the damp towel from her head, shaking out her
hair to dry.
Just trying to find some humour in this dire predicament. Its
terrifying in here. Just imagine what it was like out in the
woods.
Thank God you found this house, he said earnestly. It
sounds like the whole of the heavens are tumbling down.
Once again she raised her dark blue eyes to search his in a
most forthright and intimate manner. Do you believe in God
still, after everything thats happened? she asked quietly.
Michael shuddered. I dont know, he admitted after a time,
not even trying to pretend that he didnt know what she was
talking about.
I think I lost Him at the Battle of Toulouse, where I was
nearly killed. April 1814. But since then, well, Im not so sure. Id
like to believe. I just get so, so angry.
She nodded. I know. Yet there are less fortunate people
than ourselves. People who are more ill than you, for instance,
or havent been blessed with two lovely sons like me. Darren is
going to pull through, isnt he? Gavin is going to see again?
The tears glittered in Bryonys lovely eyes, and he longed to
kiss them away.
He reached over to touch the back of her hand lightly. She
accepted the caress without flinching. Well do the best we
can.
They rubbed down the children with the brandy for a time
longer in silence.
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Then Michael tested Gavins head. Theyre still far too

warm, Bryony. Im getting very concerned. Did you see the
laundry tub when you were in the kitchen?
She considered for a moment. I did. Hanging up.
Do you think you can manage to get it down and fill it?
Her brows raised. Why?
A cold water soak might help. Theyre burning up.
Excessive fever can cause fits and death.
Bryony was on her feet in a minute. Ill go now. Ill manage if
it kills me.
She came back a short time later and gathered Gavin up.
She walked over to Michael and placed the toddler in his lap.
Here. You take him. Ill get Darren.
He was surprised and inexplicably touched. He would have
thought she would ferry them back and forth herself. But she
seemed to be working upon an assumption of equality and
competence which had him almost preening with pride.
Which goeth before a fall, he reminded himself. He couldnt
have filled the tub, now could he?
Well, perhaps I could have, he decided a short time later, as
he watched her work, continuing to fill it. If he had enough
reason to. If it were a matter of life and death.
Come on, right up to their necks, he urged. They still felt
scalding to his touch. Bathe their faces too, with your hands.
And as long as were here, we might as well get out the soap.
Bryony found some good strong-smelling lye soap near the
kitchen pump and began to lather one of the cloths she had
been using as a compress.
She scrubbed the children repeatedly until their skin looked
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more normal, even if still splotched with measles. Then he

began to wash them as well, and his own hands, over and over
again until she stared at him, and finally took the now much
smaller bar from his grip.
He blinked and shuddered as if finally noticing her for the
first time.
She was relieved when he said in a normal tone, Good. Just
leave them to soak here for a minute, and bank up that fire.
Now that your hands are really clean, see what you can find to
eat. Not too much, though.
Oh no, I cant eat at the minute. Im too upset.
Then you should probably get in the bath too.
She blushed, but took him literally and began to unfasten the
shirt once more.
He shook his head and sighed, covering his eyes with one
hand as her breasts began to peep out once more.
No, not that tub, dear girl. Its freezing, and I need it for the
boys. The bathing chamber is under the stairs. You light the
box underneath and wait for the water to warm, then open the
spigot below. Be careful you dont burn yourself. Its probably
still warm from our evening baths before. Go feel it, carefully.
She came back a short time later to report, It still feels very
hot to the touch.
He nodded. Then just fill the tub, and in you get.
Oh, but perhaps I shouldnt leave you, she said, her brows
knitting with worry.
Theres no reason why not, he said in a reassuring tone.
The boys are resting comfortably. You can go in and wash.
Take that lye soap with you. There should be some lemon as
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well which Blake always uses for cutting grime. Try the soap
dish, or under the sink in the little cabinet. Ill call you if anything
changes. Go find a gown of Arabella's upstairs and some under
things as well, and she has some aprons hanging on the back
of the door here you can use while you help me nurse them
once you're finished.
Her eyes widened and she shook her head. Oh no, I
couldnt presume to go through her things.
Shes a good woman. She really wont mind. Im sure that
shirt is a bit, well, draughty, despite being so big on you.
She blushed and tugged it down over her bare legs,
cowering slightly so that it finally covered her dimpled knees.
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Ill just make
sure youre all set in here. Ill bank up the fire, if I may. Would
you like something hot to drink? I used up the last of the coffee
in the pot, but I could try to make more.
Why dont we have some tea? I prefer Gunpowder Green
myself. You may have whatever you like.
Oh, thats my favourite as well.
Youll have to root around for it, though. This is not exactly
my preserve, nor even my house, Michael said, longing for the
safety and familiarity of his own home as he nursed the two sick
lads.
Ill find it.
Milk, sugar? she asked a short time later.
Neither for me, but you go ahead.
I dont take them either.
Soon she had a steaming cup by him on the table, and said,
If youre really sure about the bath-
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Ill call you if anything changes, I promise. And you cant

sleep in a decent bed until you get clean. I hate to say this, but
Blake would never forgive me if I didnt check you for lice and
fleas.
She blushed. Im pretty sure I dont-
All the same, theres some lice lotion and a special comb,
and flea powder in the cabinet in the other room. Go up and get
a gown and shawl and a chemise and fetch them. When youre
done bathing, come out wrapped in a towel and I can examine
you and treat your hair.
All right. But I hate to put you to so much trouble, Mr.
Avenel.
No trouble at all. We had to do it in the Army all the time or
suffer the consequences, which believe me were not pleasant.
Especially in ones trousers."
They both rolled their eyes and shared a smile. "When Im
done with you, you can check the boys. You might want to bring
the shears as well and cut their hair. They do look rather wild.
Yes, I shall, thank you," she said, nodding. "Ill be back
soon.
Take your time, my dear, and be thorough.
Yes, Mr. Avenel.
Michael. Just call me Michael, he ordered between gritted
teeth. If I hear myself called anything other than that or Major, I
look around for one of my family members. Who are far too
grim for me to even wish to think about.
Very well, Michael, Ill be back soon. With one last long
loik, she left him.
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Chapter Five
Bryony went upstairs as Michael had instructed, making her
way through the silent corridors of the old house, up the stairs
to the room at the end of it with the help of a single candle.
She went in and lit a couple of more candles on the dressing
table, then found the oldest gown she could in the wardrobe.
It was not a very good choice, since it was actually summerweight and one of the ones that Arabella used when she was
out gardening in the warm weather, and thus quite revealing.
But anything had to be better than showing her legs in one of
his shirts again.
Bryony blushed with mortification at the thought that the
most handsome man she had ever seen in her life had met her
when she was the lowest ebb in her entire existence.
But then, perhaps he was too, she thought to herself,
recalling his almost wild-eyed look when the lightning had
illuminated her in the window. The poor man had obviously
reckoned her a ghost.
He was badly injured, and evidently furious with the entire
world. Of course, many of the men who had served in the
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recent war were mad as hatters due to the terrors that theyd
faced in their fight for freedom against the dictator Napoleon
Bonaparte.
Michael Avenel seemed relatively sane. But she had seen
the bottles of alcohol in his room when shed gone in there to
take off her drenched dress. The fact that he was drinking alone
did not bode well.
On the other hand, in his chair he could hardly do her any
real harm. Not if he was telling the truth that he had little
sensation from the waist down.
Pity, that, she mused, then coloured up again at the
uncharacteristic thought.
Yet it was no less than the truth, for he really was most
spectacular to look at, despite his scars. It had to be the eyes,
she decided, pale blue like a wolfs, yet capable of a dark spark
of passion that had her shivering with desire.
The frisson when he had touched her breast inadvertently
had been the most powerful sensation shed ever experienced.
Her soft flesh still burned from the contact. There was a
lambent languidness in her limbs which she recognised from
her early married days. Before she had discovered just what a
monster she had married. And by then it had been far too
late.
She shoved the horrid thought out of her mind as she
searched amongst the drawers for a chemise and some
underthings, and a shawl. She looked at the gown again. It was
pale blue. Oh my.
Then she shrugged. What was the point of wearing
mourning for someone who had seen her as little more than a
bank account and breeder of heirs? Her husband was gone
now. It had been over a year. She had every right to come out
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of her cocoon. Even if anyone did care about her widowed

status, which down here in Somerset she very much doubted.
They would only know what she told them about herself.
But she could not come too far out of her shell, she
reminded herself. She did not want anyone to recognise her, or
ask questions.
On the other hand, she had rusticated on the Welsh borders
ever since her marriage nearly six years ago. She had been
only just sixteen when shed wed. Shed fallen pregnant almost
at once, and had never had a full London season. The chances
of anyone knowing her after all this time and here of all places
was fairly remote. One look in the mirror over the fine walnut
dresser told Bryony she had altered radically from the last time
shed seen her image in a pierglass.
She who had been so proud of her looks, the fact that she
was au fait with all of the latest fashions from the womens
papers, now seemed a shadow of her former self.
But a beautifully plumed bird in a gilded cage was still
trapped. Better to be in rags, or even mens clothes, Bryony
reflected, looking down at the shirt which draped over her
slender frame, than to be subjected to the sort of treatment that
she had had to endure. If she could have got some mens
clothes and disguised herself before now, she would have.
Anything to avoid being molested.
But the man downstairs seemed decent, respectable.
Outraged at what she had had to suffer. If the doctor and his
wife were as pleasant as he, then she was truly fortunate to
have found Michael Avenel.
There was nothing to fear. She could put on a clean gown,
perhaps even do her hair once it was dry. For a time she could
pretend that she lived here, that she had a good home and food
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and friends.
The rumbling in her stomach called to mind more of her
urgent needs. She took up the gown and shawl and
undergarments carefully, trying not to touch them more than
she had to. She knew lice and fleas could wriggle or jump. She
hoped she was not infested, but it would be a miracle
considering some of the places they had had to sleep.
She hastened downstairs and into the doctors study, found
the medicine Michael had told her to fetch, and returned to the
kitchen. Everything all right? she asked, breathless in her
haste.
Michael was watching the boys carefully to make sure their
heads did not slip under the water. Theyre fine. Resting.
Leave those things here and go boil yourself.
With pleasure. She gave a timid smile and left again.
He could not help ogling her as she left. The sway of her
hips, her gorgeous legs, delicate but supple, her well-turned
ankle, the way she flowed over the floor as though gliding, all of
them moved him inexpressibly.
His manhood jutted almost painfully against the wool flannel
of his trousers. He tamped it down with a towel on his lap now
to mop up some of the worst of the mess Darren had deposited
on him when the poor child had coughed up half his lungs.
Michael threw the used towel on the floor, and put another
clean one over his lap to conceal his arousal.
For Heavens sake, he told himself, stop that. He was
shivering and on edge after only one touch of her hand, and a
few longing looks. He felt more heated than any puerile youth.
A man his age ought to be able to get himself under control,
especially one who had prided himself upon being an expert
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lover with hours of stamina for the more insatiable of his

partners. Yet one more touch of her hand or glimpse of her
bosom would surely send him over the brink.
Oddly enough, though, as lovely as she was, he found
himself longing for a simple hug, or even a kiss. In the normal
way of things he would not have valued them very highly, much
preferring the play to the prologue or epilogue. In Bryonys case
though, he had the feeling that her kisses would be something
exceptional.
As for a hug, well, it had been so long since anyone had
touched him in any other way than the impersonal one of
helping him to get dressed and undressed, or lifting him in and
out of his chair or carriage. Even a simple chaste embrace
would be better than nothing.
He could go back to Bath and somehow persuade one of the
young men in his employ to find him a clean whore. But they
were very hard-hearted for the most part and didnt tend to hug
and kiss. They would no doubt find his condition a lot of hard
work. Not to mention the fact that he couldnt bear to be
ridiculed. Or felt sorry for.
He rather like that about Bryonyshe had not looked at him
with pity or condescension. She had actually spoken to him like
an adult, not a child or mental deficient. Why was it that so
many people equated a physical handicap with a mental one?
Michael sighed. If anything, his acute intelligence had made
his whole set of circumstances even more difficult to bear. He
had been directionless and in limbo, hoping death would take
him.
He no longer had any family concerns or cares, or his Army
duties or studies, which had all taken up so much of his time
prior to the Battle of Toulouse. He had been floundering about
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for something to sink his teeth into ever since he had been
proclaimed well enough leave the hospital. But what to do?
He had always loved languages at schoola multi-lingual
dictionary, French, Portuguese, Spanish, Italian and English
had been a dream of his when hed been younger. His Italian
was a little bit rusty now. Or was it just that his other four
languages were so much better? Alexander Davenport had
encouraged him the last time he had seen him at the Dukes
townhouse. Perhaps he was on to something after all?
He shook his head. Why was he thinking of this now? He
had far more important things to worry about, with two sick little
boys and a starving woman who looked as though she would
blow away at the first puff of wind.
But then, Bryony had made it from the ruined monastery to
Blakes house in the raging storm. She had survived sleeping
outdoors for months on end. He had to give her credit for
staying alive, and the fact that the children were not far worse
off. After all, if they hadnt got the measles so badly, they would
never have had to seek medical help.
What to do with her now was the question. He hoped that
Arabella and Blake would be able to use her as a housekeeper.
Come to think of it, he wouldnt mind seeing her face every
morning himself.
But no, he had set up a bachelor establishment with no
women servants for a reason. He didnt want anyones pity.
Couldn't stand being seen wheeled around as if in a childs
pram. Being hoisted on and off the chamber pot or into the tub
were also appalling indignities he never wanted any woman to
witness by accident. Only his manservant Robin helped him
with his toilette and ablutions.
He had loathed being seen in public at Bath in such an
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enfeebled manner. It was one of the reasons he had eventually

given up goinghe was tired of being hauled all over the place
like a bag of bones. He thought once again of Bryonys gentle
small hand touching him, and sighed.
She entered a moment later clad in nothing but a white
towel. She was so lovely he nearly swallowed his tongue.
Come sit and well do your hair first.
All right. If youre sure.
I am. Dont be frightened. If there ever comes a time you
inconvenience me and I want to be left alone, Ill tell you, all
right? he said gruffly.
She nodded, and went to sit on the low stool near his chair.
Michael took up the lice comb and methodically began to
part her locks at the scalp. Nothing so far as I can see, he
said after a time, but Im going to put the lotion on all the same.
It doesnt smell too foul.
My hair is hopelessly tangled, though.
Im only doing the scalp. You can use my brush and work
out the rest of it at your leisure.
She lifted the scissors. Or you could just cut it all-
Not on your life! He caught himself before he said anything
more revealing about his feelings. I mean, I havent the skill,
and it would be a crying shame to cut such lovely hair.
Thank you for the compliment. I always found it a real
disadvantage being so dark-haired. I wanted to be very English
looking, you know? Blonde with cornflower eyes and a rosy
complexion. Instead I got the dark Welsh locks and eyes of my
father and none of the classical blonde beauty of my northern
Italian mother.
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Really? Do you speak the language?

Si, signore.
Molto bene. I was actually thinking just this moment that I
had to practice my Italian. Do you speak any other languages?
She nodded. Father was a merchant. French, naturally, and
some Portuguese. A tiny bit of Spanish.
Then I think I might have the perfect job for you. Working
my secretary cum housekeeper.
Oh, no, really, you dont have to say that just because you
feel sorry for me, she said, glancing over her shoulder at him.
Im not. I was always very good at languages at school and
dreamt of one day creating a multilingual dictionary. I have little
enough to occupy me these days apart from tending my
portfolio. You could help me. Between the two of us, and with
some help from my friend Alexander, we could create
something of which we would be justly proud, perhaps even
become famous for.. Carry on in the tradition of the great
Encyclopaedists or philosophes.
She said with evident hesitation,I should be happy to work
as your secretary, if you have no one else who could undertake
this work for you. But surely a man-
He waved away her objections at once. I live in a bachelors
establishment at the moment. It could do with a womans touch.
The cook is a worthy chap but he doesnt understand my
needs, and gives me the same thing day after day. I need
variety and I need to stay healthy.
Why, what does he feed you?
I no longer eat any meat, so the only thing he ever serves
me is potatoes, cheese and the occasional bit of fish, and
mainly peas and carrots.
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I see. It does sound most tedious and unappetising. Do you

eat eggs, chicken?
Eggs yes, chicken no.
And do you like fish and crustaceans?
Yes, I can stomach them.
The way he phrased the sentence gave her a hint as to why
he had forsworn meat. So anything that resembles, well, flesh,
sickens you? she guessed.
His quickly sucked-in breath told her she had hit the mark.
Yes, exactly so, he said, his voice as tense as the fingers
that now parted her hair and rubbed in the lotion.
I understand.
I doubt it, he said shortly.
Blood then? she guessed. It worries you too?
Worry is not an entirely accurate word, he confessed dryly.
Panics, apparently. I mean, I dont have any control over it. Nor
do I have any recollection of it when it happens.
When what happens? she asked in a gentle tone.
He sighed. When I see something which sets me off. Gives
me one of my funny turns. Then its like Im right back on the
battlefield in the thick of the action. Like a nightmare, but worse.
I can hear every sound, feel every sensation. The sun on my
face, the vibrating of the earth from the cannons and the
cavalry at the gallop, the smell of the gunpowder.
His voice was growing more and more reedy, so that she
turned around to face him.
But youre not there now. Youre here with me in this snug
little house. Youre helping me and the boys. She took one of
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his hands and held it in both her own.

He blinked at the breathtaking young woman clad in nothing
more than a thin towel, and felt his mouth go dry with desire.
The storm had obviously unsettled him, and he was having
another of his funny spells. Except that she had called him back
from the brink of disaster. A second time now, he admitted to
himself, recalling how near he had come to taking his own life.
Bryony wasnt sure what was wrong with the handsome
man, but it seemed a great deal more than drunkenness and
the past experiences he had been through. More even than his
damaged body.
But now was not the time for her to worry about such things.
Not when her own sons were in peril and she was virtually
naked in the kitchen in front of him. So she gave him her most
reassuring smile and asked, Are you done with the lotion?
Michael blinked at her and tore his eyes away from Bryonys
bare shoulders. Er, yes, I think so. I dont see anything
nesting.
I cant tell you how relieved I am to hear that, she drawled
in her best imitation of an upper-class English accent.
He snickered. Im sure. But before you become too ecstatic,
let me check for fleas.
She giggled.
No, I dont see any bites back here. Can you drop the towel
a bit? Hold it at the back so I dont see anything I oughtnt.
A bit too late for that with me parading around in one of your
shirts, but thank you for being such a gentleman. She grasped
the ends of the towel with one hand, and clutched the small of
her back with the other, then let it slide down to her waist.
No, nothing, he confirmed. Ill just douse you with flea
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powder. You can do the rest yourself and get dressed. He took
a couple of handfuls and began to rub it on her.
Goosepimples immediately sprang up all over her body. To
her shame, her nipples hardened under the rough fabric of the
towel. She hadnt been touched in so long. Even when she had
it had never been so tenderly as now. She had to endure the
exquisite torture in silence.
It was no less painful for Michael, for never had he seen
such a graceful figure. He had a couple of tantalising peeps of
the sides of her breasts as well whilst he moved from side to
side in his chair to cover her back thoroughly.
She was breathtaking, her skin like alabaster, her waist
slender, her hips daintily curved. He wondered how so delicate
a woman could ever have given birth to two such fine sons. He
also wondered at the fact that she showed no sign of having
given birth.
He had seen women with marks from where the skin had
stretched-he had been fascinated by them. To think of a woman
carrying life inside her, well, it was just one of the great
unfathomables of the universe, hed always felt.
That was why even in his most extreme youth he had never
indiscriminately spilled his seed, but instead withdrawn or used
protectors. Hed been most fearful of disease after hearing his
friend Blakes lectures on the perils of syphilis and the dreaded
mercury treatment usually given as a supposed cure.
Now as he looked at Bryony, saw her lithe back, her dainty
legs and feet, her petite body which could so easily be crushed
and broken, bent to a mans will, he felt here was a woman who
was truly made to be loved and treasured.
Michael stroked down her back a second time, reveling in
the feel of soft warm flesh. It had been so long. Too long.
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It had never been like this. It had usually been a toss in the
bed. A few hours at most. A few days if he had been lucky, and
on to the next town, the next woman. Or more often than not,
back to his studies or duties.
But as he looked at her dimpled back, he decided that here
was a woman upon whom hours could be devoted, yet he
would still never find the core of her mystery. Though he would
surely have the utmost pleasure trying.
His hands began to shake so much that she turned her head
slightly. Are you all right? she asked breathily, trembling
almost as much as he from the rousing contact.
Fine. I just get a bit shaky without sleep and too much
coffee, he said quickly, watching the towel once more cover
her back like a cloud concealing the sun.
What about some warm milk then?
A rather rude and suggestive retort crossed his mind, but he
squelched it before it passed his lips. He didnt want to shock
the poor child to the depths of her innocent soul.
Whatever you think. Please dont go to any trouble.
After all youve done for me, you can say that?
Please, dont keep thanking me, he said, his tone a neargrowl. You make me sound like some sort of saint. The truth is
Im a terrible sinner, especially seeing you in naught but a
towel.
He wanted to kick himself as she stiffened and began to step
away from him quickly. Even now, crippled and with an
innocent and fraught young woman he wasnt able to mend his
rakish ways. His erection rammed upwards so painfully as he
caught sight of her cleavage when she half-turned that Michael
was sure he was going to explode.
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To his surprise Bryony met his stare calmly. Theres nothing

wrong with looking, is there? she asked, her gaze resting on
his face.
I dont know. Ive never just looked.
She blushed. Ive never wanted to look. She shook her
head and left the room, leaving Michael aching after her like a
soul in torment.
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Chapter Six
Once Bryony had left him alone in the kitchen staring after
her like a lovelorn youth, Michael blew out a shaky breath and
decided to busy himself by fishing the children out of the tub.
He needed to check to see if their temperature was down, and
them lying in a nice comfortable bed was preferable to the wash
tub.
He lifted Gavin out first, and found he could manage his
weight quite easily. He cradled the soaking child in his lap,
relieved to feel that he was much more cool. His skin was still
warm and dry to the touch once he was toweled off, but he was
not so scorching as he had been.
Darren he was not so confident about. Once he had put
Gavin up on the table, he felt the other childs forehead. Still
boiling. And he was still coughing up green phlegm every so
often. He shuddered to think what Bryony would do if she lost
him. He immersed Darren again right up to his neck and called
to her.
My dear, can you please get me the willow bark from the
other room whenever youre dressed?
She came out of the bathroom and ran for the study at once,
though she was clad only in a chemise and underthings. She
threw the shawl over her shoulders, but he still saw her ample
bosom peeping above the delicate lace and felt himself burning
even hotter than Darren.
He avoided looking at her as their fingers met. He gripped
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the bottle convulsively. Thank you.

She misinterpreted his quaking fingers as symptomatic of
nerves or anxiety rather than raw desire.
Its bad, isnt it? she asked quietly.
He understood her thoughts, and though his fears were not
the reason for his trembling, he nodded. The fevers not
coming down. I had hoped not to have to administer any drugs.
But at this point we need to take action. Can you fetch the
peppermint again too, and some camphor? Im going to make
an unguent to plaster all over his chest. We need to get this
mucus out of the lungs.
A short time later they had Darren out of the tub and
plastered with the thick green salve Michael had pulverized in a
mortar and pestle.
Here, sit him up. Lets do his front and back. At this point it
cant hurt.
I should have kept my old frock on. I dont want to ruin
Arabellas clothes.
She wont mind, really. Its only a chemise, after all. Im sure
she has dozens. And no sense in being filthy if you dont have
to be.
She sat up with Darren and kept rubbing the unguent into his
chest and back. Michael kept his arms down to make sure he
did not rub the noisome substance into his eyes.
At one point she smiled timidly and said, Im sorry for having
disturbed you this evening. You probably were welcoming a
nice quiet night at home all by yourself, and we intruded.
He dropped the pestle on the floor and looked at her, whitefaced. She picked it up and put it back in his hand. The contact
was almost electric, and they stared at each other until Darren
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began to cough violently once more. She inserted a creamware

bowl under his chin and held it there as he spewed.
No, not at all. I cant tell you how glad I am you came, he
managed to grit out, thinking he had never spoken a truer word
in his life.
Still, were keeping you from your bed, and this is rather
disgusting.
Not at all. Its not the childs fault, he said in clipped tones.
A short time later, he said a bit more warmly, Speaking of
sleep, why dont you take Gavin inside and get some rest? Ill
sit up with Darren.
No, I couldnt possibly let you--
One look at her earnest midnight blue gaze was enough to
tell him it was pointless to try to argue with her. All right then.
How about getting some soft bedding and making a pallet on
the floor by the fire? It isnt much, I know. Even so it must be
better than what youve had to put up with in the old ruins.
Rushes arent so bad, and moss and bracken. But I cant
recall the last time I had a decent nights sleep.
You can take some valerian-
She shook her head. Oh no, not at all. I need to stay awake
in case he needs me. But soon, though. As soon as hes out of
the woods, so to speak. Ill have a good sleep before we head
back to the monastery.
Ive told you, Bryony, youre not going back into the forest,
he said in a firm tone which few would dare to contradict. Blake
can find you a job even if you dont wish to take me up on my
offer of a post.
Oh, but you only said that to be kind, she said shyly.
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His pale blue eyes bored into her. Why would you think I
wasnt serious, Bryony?
She shook her head incredulously. What man would want to
hire a servant with two small sons? Or were you planning on
me farming them out to a poor woman? I would never-
That was the last thing on my mind! he protested almost
angrily. I would hardly offer you a job and expect you to split up
your whole family at my say so.
Please dont misunderstand. I have a large house with
plenty of room. I only use one downstairs chamber and the
study and dining room and bathroom. The rest of the house is
empty. You can have the run of it, you and the boys. There are
some nice rooms downstairs which are very near the bathroom
and my study. Or a fine suite upstairs. You can have your pick
of any one of them. Or as many of them as you need. After all,
if were to launch into my great project, well need some space,
and I hope you wont mind working odd hours.
Not at all. But may I ask what sort of remuneration-
Bed, board and an allowance for you and the children. Say
twenty pounds per month to start with.
But that is far too much for any housekeeper-
Ah, but you shant be just a housekeeper. You will be my
secretary, and even well, my companion, you and the boys.
Blake has been telling me for some time that Im too retired
from the world. That I should get out and see more people. Its
hard for me to get out, but that is not to say I wouldnt enjoy
your familys company.
She still looked at him doubtfully.
If youre so concerned for your virtue, we can
She shook her head vehemently. No, its not that at all. Im
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no prude, and I dont have such a prurient mind that I see

danger at every turn. No, I was simply wondering if you were
doing this because you really want to. Or if you simply view me
as a charity case which has pitched up on your doorstep whom
you feel sorry for.
He scowled. Ive never been the type of man to take in
strays, if thats what youre asking. No, Im hiring you strictly
upon your own merits. Your talent for languages, and innate
housekeeping skills.
And the boys? she asked quietly.
He shrugged. Theyre part of you. And they need help. A
good life and home. They can be trained up in one profession
or another when theyre old enough. I have so much, and you
all so little. And youve helped me more than you know. Im very
grateful, and always pay my debts. Is that enough for you to be
satisfied? Or would you like me to come up with a few more
reasons as to why I need you to come home with me?
No, thats quite all right, she said with a blush.
With the way he was looking at her, she was afraid he was
going to include a few personal ones she was not sure how to
respond to. She had also heard the word need. It both thrilled
and frightened her. He really was most remarkable-looking, but
that was not why she was here.
Moreover, how on earth could he ever take a second look at
her? View her as anything more than an object of pity or
derision? He had checked her for lice and fleas, for Heavens
sake.
She whose father had been one of the most prominent
merchants in Chester and Liverpool, had now reduced to such
a dreadful state. Every woman who had ever envied her would
laugh themselves silly if they saw her now in an ill-fitting
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chemise which was only cotton, albeit good quality.

Not to mention laughing at her becoming enamoured of a
crippled man who seemed to be little better than a common
soldier. When she had been married to an earl, no less.
Still Michael was kind, as well as handsome, however grim
and forbidding he acted at times. She could only imagine how
impatient she would be having to be thus confined, restricted.
What was it Shakespeare had said?
But now I am cabind, cribbd, confind, bound in,
"To saucy doubts and fears.
Only too late did she realise she had actually spoken the
words aloud.
Michael was looking at her with a new appreciation in his
eyes. Macbeth. Act Three, Scene Four, the banquet scene.
Does this mean youre hungry, or are you thinking of the terms
under which you are to come into my employ? If it is the latter, I
can assure you that the boys needs will come first with you and
my servants, and you may come and go as you please when
youre not working.
No, it was the food actually, she lied, not daring to admit
she had been thinking about his disability. I would love some
milk, and perhaps a crust of bread.
Aye, you can hunt up some things while I hold Gavin. Make
sure you wash your hands thoroughly. I dont like to think of the
damage the camphor might cause, or the taste. Ech. He made
a face. But you cant overdo things.
I shant. May the boys have some milk, do you think?
Theres a theory that dairy comestibles cause phlegm, but
in his case I think itll be good to get something into both their
stomachs.
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Very well, Ill try.

She cradled each one of them in turn against her bosom as
she had them sip. Again he felt his loins stirring so powerfully
Michael had all to do to keep his hands steady as he cut the
bread. He half-expected to behead himself with the knife he
was trembling so badly. As it was, he nicked his index finger
with the point and saw the red drops well up.
Oh God, no, he gasped. Oh Lord, Im so sorry, Bryony.
Please, help me. Oh God.
He clamped his eyes shut and gritted his teeth. He heard the
roar of the guns, the screams of the dying all around him.
Oh God, no! Make it stop! Make the blood stop!
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Chapter Seven
Bryony stared at Michaels drawn white face, saw the cut,

and knew in an instant that this was the very thing hed warned
her about.
He had not exaggerated: he was genuinely terrified by the
sight of the blood, and was reliving the horror of the day he had
been so cruelly injured.
But what could she do to help him?
The most obvious thing was to cover over the finger. She
grabbed a cloth and tied it. When she was sure the blood was
safely stanched, she threw her arms around his neck and hung
on.
Its all right, Michael. Im here. I wont let you go. Theres
nothing to worry about. Everythings fine. You, me and the
boys, were all fine. You can open your eyes and look around.
Were in Blakes house, having some milk. Everything is just
fine.
She hid the knife in case it also conjured up unpleasant
associations. When he still did not open his eyes, she stroked
his eyelids and face. Its all right. Everything is warm and safe.
The storm wont get you.
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He was rigid in the chair, unmoving, frozen in the moment he

was reliving in his minds eye.
When Bryony still got no response, she spoke a bit louder,
realising Michael was probably also hearing the sounds of
battle. That must have been why he had not heard her at the
door when shed knocked. He had been in the throes of one of
these nightmarish episodes, oblivious to everything else.
Oh the poor man, she thought, locked away in his own
private hell.
Its all right, Michael. Were here, Gavin and I. She scooped
the boy into her lap and together they nestled against him until
his breathing evened out and he at last opened his eyes.
He immediately averted his eyes so as to avoid her gaze.
Well, she couldnt blame him for feeling embarrassed. Many
might even think him mad. For her own part, so far as she was
concerned he had fought for freedom and had nothing to be
ashamed of.
She gave his shoulder a warm pat and glided off his lap, not
too abruptly, for she did not want him to think she was
frightened of him, but also knowing what she had done was
probably not the wisest thing a woman clad in not much more
than a chemise and shawl should have been doing.
She left Gavin where he was in order to reinforce her trust in
him. She moved her head to meet his gaze without flinching
and asked softly, Can you please make him drink the rest of
this milk whilst I try with Darren?
He blinked owlishly, his pale blue eyes still slightly
unfocused. Oh, er, yes, I can try.
More of the milk seemed to go onto his shirt and lap than
into her son, causing her to smile. Im sorry. Between them the
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boys have made a fine mess of you.

No matter.
He had to admit between his episode and his clothing, he
was rather embarrassed to be at less than his best in front of so
lovely a woman, but after all, it was not as though they were at
a soiree. The children were ill, and she was a homeless
vagabond. And he had just acted like a raving lunatic in front of
her. Well, at least hed warned her before the spell had hit him,
he reflected bitterly.
To their infinite relief, Darren drank a few mouthfuls. She put
him back down on the makeshigt bed and finally had something
herself, bread soaked in milk. A couple of bites was enough to
fill her.
Bryony made a face and held her stomach. Oh dear.
Stuffed already.
You can have lots of small meals over the next coming day,
good fortifying things like soups and stews. Beef broth. I dont
eat any meat myself now, but we can send out for anything you
like once the servants return.
Do you think thats why youre so thin? she asked quietly.
He shrugged. I havent much appetite. And my cook is
pretty hopeless.
Oh well, I hope Ill be able to remedy that when I get to your
house.
Very kind of you, Im sure.
Not kind at all," she said promptly. "Ill be working for you. It
will be my job as secretary and housekeeper to make your life
as smooth and easy as possible, the better to get on with your
important business.
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He stared at her. Do you mock me, Madam?

No, not at all! What would make you think
Im not sick, Im paralysed, crippled. I would appreciate it if
you wouldnt treat me as thought I were a fool as well! he
barked.
She stood up to him despite her better judgment. When
have I ever? I dont know why youre angry, Mr. Avenel. I just
thought I could make some improvements at your home to
make your life better. Food and so on. Everyone has to eat,
true, but why not something you like?
"As for your work, it is important. How can you accuse me of
treating you like a fool when your dictionary is going to be so
admirable and useful? You see insult where none was ever
intended. I can have nothing but the utmost respect and
admiration for
A man who is reduced to a snivelling coward by the sight of
a little blood? he challenged.
Stop speaking about yourself that way, she said stoutly,
refusing to back down. Please dont do this to yourself. I would
no more blame you for that than I would hope you would blame
me for my terror of spiders.
He sat back with a sigh, inadvertently sloshing the rest of the
milk onto himself.
She looked even more mortified than he felt. Oh dear. What
a mess.
He gave a wry smile. Not to worry. Im just glad he had
something to drink.
He looked down at the boy and noticed that Gavin was quite
happily snuggling against him as though he hadnt a care in the
world. Michael felt oddly moved at the sight. He was also very
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relieved he hadnt scared the children. He knew he was

probably quite ghastly when he lost control.
Bryony seemed to not take anything amiss, though she did
not look at him. But then she was concentrating again on
getting some more milk into Darren. He decided to test her.
Bryony?
She looked up at him, her blue eyes warm and friendly.
Yes? she asked maintaining the eye contact even when he
said nothing.
He was infinitely relieved she did not appear disgusted by
him. Do you suppose you can get me a clean shirt? he asked
after a time.
Oh yes, of course, I should have offered. So sorry.
She scurried out of the room before he could tell her not to
bother, since he was only going to get another one dirty
anyway.
He sat cradling Gavin against him, and closed his eyes. His
one consolation was that the fit had not lasted as long as it
usually did. Sometimes when he was alone in his chamber, it
might be as long as an hour before he looked at the clock again
and realised where and who he was.
He poured some milk for himself and drank it down thirstily.
It was not something he normally imbibed, but he knew it might
absorb some of the medicine he had taken, or at least dilute it.
For Darren was still not improving, and it was going to be a
long night. The painkilling effect of the drug combined with the
alcohol had made him very sleepy. Even with the coffee and
tea he was not going to be able to last all night at this rate.
He put Gavin back up on the table and fetched Darren down
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to check him and rub more salve on. He coughed and spewed
again, and the milk his mother had given him came right back
up.
Michael almost laughed as he became drenched once more.
It was so normal, so fatherly. He who had never imagined
himself being a parent, was now doing all the things needful,
and with a flad heart too.
Though now he had to admit that was not strictly true. He
had imagined being a father more and more often as he had
got older. But he had been at war, with no notion of when it
would finally end.
He had also never thought he would ever find a woman who
he could be interested in or trust long enough to spend more
than a few days or weeks in her company. With Bryony now,
there was something so strikingly candid about her that he
could well imagine spending days, weeks, months with her by
his side.
Yet he knew she had secrets, was hiding from her family.
But she could not possibly be someone dangerous, a criminal,
he amended. She was most certainly dangerous to his peace of
mind, for she was so lovely he was tempted to ask her what
she had meant about other ways to please each other. The
thought filled him the excitement, trepidation and not a little
jealousy for the lucky bugger who had managed to bed her.
He wondered if there had been more than one. Then he
shoved the thought aside as being unworthy. She had indicated
she was afraid of men, and had been through hell to maintain
her chastity despite the overwhelming temptation to give her
body in order to help her sons.
She returned with a shirt and trousers. I thought you might
as well get them both off. You must be soaked.
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But my legs, he said with a shake of his head. I cant

I can.
No, I will not have you
I dont mind.
Well I do, he snapped.
If I were ill like the boys, would you hesitate? she
demanded sternly.
No, I suppose
If you help me I wont even have to look.
He stared at her with a gimlet eye. Persistent little miss,
arent you?
She tossed her hair back from her face with an impatient
shrug. Common sense dictates you not sit around in soaked
and bemired clothes all night.
Very well. But you keep your head turned away.
He lifted Gavin, who whimpered at the loss of the huge warm
comforting presence.
Its all right, lad. Im not going anywhere. Just wait one
moment whilst I change my clothes.
She did his shirt first, taking it from him as he stripped it off,
donned the new one, and made sure it covered his male parts.
She threw it on the pile with the other wash and tried not to
stare at his incredible rippling muscles.
Then he wheeled the chair so that it was propped against
the large kitchen table, unfastened the buttons of his trousers,
and raised himself up on his huge sinewy arms. She yanked
them down off his hips in one fluid gesture to his knees.
All right. Theyre free. But youre rather messy. The liquids
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all soaked through.

Before he could protest she began to clean his lap with soap
and water and then started to dry him. Once again, he was sure
that he had some sensation after all.
Let me know if Im hurting you.
He held painfully still, breathless as she ministered to him so
intimately. You have a very gentle touch. I cant feel very much
anyway.
Im sorry all the same. This cant be easy for you.
No, it isnt, he admitted quietly. Im so tired of it sometimes
I could just-
She nodded. I know what you mean. Do something
desperate, she said in a gentle tone. But then I think of the
boys, how much they need me and
She broke off with a shake of her head and sighed. She was
trying desperately not to think about the huge pulsing male
flesh so close to her hand.
Im so selfish. I mean I should never have fled, taken them.
If Id just given in to my brother-in-law they might both be well
and safe.
He ventured to reach for one of her hands and squeezed it,
then rebalanced on the table before he teetered over. Listen,
my dear, I dont know all the circumstances. I hope one day
youll confide in me so I can help. But for now I can see that you
adore them and would do anything for your sons. You have
nothing to reproach yourself for.
Sometimes the best thing you can do for someone one is
give them up, she said quietly, now drying him with long
strokes of the towel he thought he could almost feel
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Michael shook his head. Youll never be able to tell me that

a child is better off without its parents, unless theyre so cruel or
indifferent that it would be better if they did leave.
Thank you for helping and trying to make me feel better
about all this. You have no idea how frantic Ive been.
I think I do. I went to war with my brother. He was younger
than me by three years. I blame myself for him enlisting,
becoming ill. He had a terrible fever in Spain but went into
battle anyway and was killed.
She paused in removing his trousers from around his ankles
and stared up at him. Is that why you Because you blame
yourself for his death?
His face closed up and he gritted out, I blame myself
because I was a killer. I broke every single one of the ten
commandments and am going to hell.
This is hell, nor am I out of it, she quoted.
Mephistopheles in Dr. Faustus. How did you
My own condition when I was married. I had a lot of time on
my hands when my husband was out going about his business.
I grew out of a silly little girl and into a woman of the world fairly
quickly.
I would love to have known the little girl.
Her startled gaze flew to his face. She shook her head. No,
you wouldnt. I probably wouldnt have looked at you with
anything other than horrified pity then. Now we're going to lift
this foot. She tapped the right one and worked the pant leg
free.
And now? he asked, angered by her words, but fascinated
too. What did she feel when she looked at him?
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A wounded soul in need of help, comfort.

A wounded body, you mean, he said in disgust, sitting back
down again in his chair with a thud.
No, its your soul thats more damaged. Those visions of
yours
You should lie down now. Youre talking gibberish, he
hissed, scowling blackly.
Am I? she said angrily. Im not the one who screamed the
house down because I cut my finger.
She swung past him before he could grab her arm and give
her a scathing telling off the presumptuous little madam
wouldnt forget in a hurry.
By the time Bryony returned with a pile of blankets and
pillows, Michael had cooled down somewhat, and she pointedly
ignored him as she checked her sons. Moving over to the
hearth she made up a nest of blankets and placed the boys
down upon it one by one.
You might as well go to bed. Youve done enough and
youre obviously worn out.
I was going to say the same of you.
Theyre my sons and youve done more than your share,
she said shortly.
Michael knew she was right, but he was reluctant to let them
out of his sight. He had another problem as well, one he would
have to confide in her if he was ever going to get to bed.
He sighed. I would go to bed, but at the risk of sounding
forward, epsecially since I'm sitting here without trousers, the
truth is I cant manage to get into it by myself.
Her expression was contrite in an instant. Come, Ill help
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you.
I expected one of the servants back before now, he lied,
but with the storm theyre obviously not returning tonight.
She pushed him down the hall and asked, What do you
need me to do?
I have to get out of the chair completely and then climb up
in. and don't worry, there's no point to the trousers now if I'm
going to bed anyway."
"I'm sorry, I wasn't abandoning you, I was just giving us both
a little rest in between," she apologized quickly.
"Don't worry. You're right, I sat back down because of the
strain. So thank you for being so consideration, and let's turn
our attention to me getting to bed instead."
She nodded. "Just tell me what you want me to do."
"I find the easiest way with a man my size is to raise myself
up at the head of the bed and sort of roll in head first. If you can
support me under the arms, give me a push and help me turn, it
will be fine.
"Good, let's go."
She took a last look at her sons, who looked to be sleeping
peacefully now, and then began to push his chair out of the
kitchen towards his chamber.
When they got to the room, they were awkward together the
first time, and he slipped downwards and nearly landed on his
knees.
Im sorry. Im a bit weak and lost my grip, she gritted
between clenched teeth.
With superhuman effort she heaved him up and forward, and
helped turn him over until she was flat against his chest staring
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down at him. A slight movement of her head would have

brought their lips together.
But Michael turned his head almost angrily, hating her to see
him like that. Her breasts burned against his partly bared chest
where his shirt buttons lay open, and he could feel his manhood
almost burgeoning out of control. All she had to do was wriggle
her hips and...
Thank you, Bryony, thats quite enough, he said in clipped
tones.
She continued, moving each of his legs in turn, grasping his
ankles and laying his bare legs out straight. He looked down at
the peculiar sensations flooding through him, and he was sure
he could feel her. His elation was vast.
But a few light touches was one thinga normal life was so
far away it might as well be in another galaxy.
She fussed with the covers until he thought he would
scream, and he wondered at her high colour. Surely she could
not have felt some sort of passion for him?
She would not meet his gaze. He wondered if he had
disgraced himself utterly, if she had seen his erection. Felt it?
But no, his shirt tails were long enough to cover his problem,
and he had not grabbed her, much as he had longed to seize
her body and bury his face in her fulsome softness.
But no, she was more embarrassed about her presumption
in her next act, for she had seen the chamberpot and now
handed it to him.
Is there anything else you need?
Er, no, thank you, he said with a blush, taking it from her.
If you could just please snuff the candles except this one on
the bedside table.
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Yes, of course. Good night, and thank you again.

To Michaels surprise Bryony bent and kissed him on the
forehead as she had done her own sons.
But before he could grasp her by the elbow she was gone,
her bare feet whispering along the floorboards as she left him
alone with his brooding and rampagingly lusty thoughts.
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Chapter Eight
Bryony was sure she had only just settled into a light sleep
when she heard Michaels voice bellowing throughout the
downstairs of the house. She scrambled up off the floor and ran
towards his room, stumbling in the dim light from the now
guttering candle by the bed.
None of the words made much sense, for he was shouting
orders to imaginary comrades. But the tone was enough to
convince her that if a crisis was not upon him already, it soon
would be.
Was he abusing opiates? He certainly seemed to have the
most awful dreams, she remarked to herself, her face paling at
the words. She was not easily shocked, her husband having
had a most foul mouth when he had been drinking.
Michael wasnt swearing violently, but lightly and goodnaturedly at his allies for a time, until it all changed and then he
was describing the blood and horrors of the battle he was
reliving in his worst nightmare.
Bryony was torn between allowing Michael to shout himself
hoarse and trying to wake him. She put a tentative hand on his
chest only to have it smashed aside.
Her wrist stinging from the swingeing blow, she cried out. He
seemed to hear her, and stilled somewhat. So he could sense
her.
She tried touching him again, this time lower. Its all right,
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Michael. Im here. Youre not alone. Its Bryony. I, um, I wanted

to ask your help with the boys. Darren still has a great deal of
fever and Im not sure what to do.
She rubbed his hard-muscled chest and stomach in soothing
circles. After a time he shuddered and lay still. At least the
screaming had stopped.
Michael?
He blinked and sat up, his eye unfocused and glazed. .
What, what is it, whos there! Belle?
No, its me, Bryony. Darrens still ill. What do I do?
He flung the covers off himself with a jerk, instantly awake.
Go behind and hold the chair with your right hand and help me
in with your left.
She did as he instructed. In a split second after he was
seated he began heading for the kitchen.
It was no lie she told; Darren was still very hot. But Bryony
felt as though she couldnt keep her eyes open a minute more.
They got him into the cold tub, and then brought some blankets
over, put one on the floor, one around herself, and one around
Michaels lap as he sat barelegged. He was touched by the
gesture and thanked her softly, longing to kiss her glittering
tears away.
She sat on the blanket and leaned against the side of the
chair, one hand on her son in the water, her head leaning on
Michaels knee.
Im sorry, Michael, Im so tired, I just cant
Ill wake you, I promise. Rest now.
He brushed back her dark hair. Allowing himself a light peck
on the top of her head, he settled into his chair to keep vigil.
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The gradual lightening of the grey dawn was just beginning

to filter in through the small mullioned kitchen windows when
Bryony stirred at last. She raised her head and gasped. She
was stiff and cold, and shivered against the warm hard
blanketed leg she had been leaning on. She sat up straight and
turned to look at Michael. Oh lord, Im so sorry.
Dont be, he said promptly. Gavin is fine now, sleeping,
and Darren looks like he is out of the woods as well. Even
youre looking better for being clean and having had some
sleep.
He began to fold the blanket she had given him and put it to
one side, but his gaze never left her face as he worked, then
reached for the trousers she had brought for him but had never
managed to help him put on.
As she watched, she noticed there was a light in his eyes
she had not seen before. Once again she could not help
observing what an incredibly beautiful man he was. She longed
to reach out and touch his face, trace his lush full lips, his
elegant high cheekbones.
She tried to struggle to her feet to fetch her son out of the
tub, but her leg had fallen asleep under her, and she partly
rose, only to stumble. She was about to go head first into the
water when Michael grabbed her by her supple waist. She
landed squarely on his lap. There was no mistaking the tell-tale
bulge, and its contact with her soft bottom through only the
thinnest of coverings was enough to unman him completely.
Oh God, he gritted out.
Im sorry! she apologised quickly, trying to get out of his
lap.
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But he hung on, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly
and kissing the nape of her neck torridly as he groaned.
Bryony at last understood and moved her hand back to
caress his now perspiring face. Her other hand rubbed the back
of one of his as he clutched her. She was surprised he could
feel her. As she tried to turn her head to kiss him she squirmed
slightly in his lap to try to enhance the pleasure. It was certainly
doing the most thrilling things to her, though the tingling
coursing through her was also due to her partly dead leg.
At last his quiet sobs of passion subsided, and he released
her just enough for her to swivel sideways and kiss his bare
chest and throat.
Thank you for looking after Darren, she said, quickly
glossing over the moment so he would not feel ashamed. And
thank you for helping me with my leg. The pins and needles
ought to stop in a minute.
He sagged against her in relief. She was either the most
naive woman in the world, or the most generous. The latter, he
decided as she stroked the column of his neck for a time, and
continued to kiss his chest.
He knew why she was doing itshe felt sorry for him. Still,
she felt so lovely in his lap, he could feel himself stirring all over
again.
Pity was the last thing Bryony felt as she savoured the lightly
salty tang of his perspiration as she kissed his bared flesh
wherever it peeped through the opening of his shirt.
But when she moved to kiss him on the lips he turned his
head again and asked gruffly in a voice deepened by passion
as he set her on her feet, Are you hungry?
My stomach feels as though its been turned inside out, she
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admitted.
Have something to eat first. After that youd better put on a
clean chemise and then a frock. Some of the servants will be
back soon and I would not have you embarrassed unduly.
She went to get clean underthings and the dress she had
selected a few hours before. But when she came back into the
kitchen without the shawl around her shoulders Michael could
feel himself springing to life with an acuteness bordering on
agony.
Arabella was taller than Bryony, so the gown trailed along
the floor by a good three inches. Her bosom was thus even
more exposed in the square neckline than it had been in the
chemise, for the band of stiffened ribbon which formed the
waist of the dress pushed the ample globes upwards. But she
seemed not to even care at all. Her attention remained focused
upon her sons as if her appearance was the last thing in the
world she thought of.
Michael did care, for to see such a display of delectable pink
and white creaminess when she bent over was more of a
temptation than he could bear. But should he be direct about it,
or let her know in a round-about manner?
In the end he opted for the more genteel way. Bryony, lass,
that gown doesnt fit very well. Perhaps you should find another
one, or locate Arabellas work basket and stitch in some lace?
Hmm? She looked down at her bosom and blushed. Oh
yes, I see what you mean. Im sorry.
Dont be sorry. Not your fault. I just dont want you catching
pneumonia or being concerned I might think ill of you. Have you
ever seen a storm like it? he asked, the eaves groaning as the
wind swirled outside.
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No, its pretty fearsome, she agreed, going back into the
bathroom to retrieve the shawl. She tied it around her shoulders
and nibbled on a crust of bread as she looked out the window.
The gown was a lightweight one of fine muslin. Without the
usual yards of petticoats it clung to her like a second skin
whenever she moved.
Get a hold of yourself, man, Michael scolded himself.
But he couldnt block the image of Bryony in his lap from his
mind. The incredible sensations she had evoked.
Oh, she had not meant to. The fall had been an accident.
But she must have known, known and been disgusted by his
uncontrolled lechery.
He tested her once again, not wanting to see anything dark
and shadowy in her attitude toward him.
Bryony, he said softly.
She turned to look at him, and only when he continued to
remain silent did a tiny frown of puzzlement crease the creamy
space between her brows.
Shall I make you some tea, some breakfast perhaps,
Michael? she asked, her eyes never leaving his face.
He gave her a small smile. Tea would be most welcome.
And whatever you would care to have, I shall too.
Her eyes sparkled with mirth. I doubt youre a milk drinker.
A bit more bread?
Aye, some toast, with a tiny bit of butter for me, and
marmalade.
Sounds just the thing for us both, he agreed.
She went past him to get the things and stroked back the
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thick curl of hair which had fallen down across his brow. Poor
thing, you must be exhausted, she said in a motherly tone.
Breakfast for you, and then off to bed.
No, I can
Bed for you. I got some sleep. You need some too.
I did have some before you woke me, he reminded her.
Bryony nodded, setting her ebony curls bobbing. Yes, you
must have been out a couple of hours.
Did you sleep then?
She shook her head. I was too anxious. Then I heard, um,
Darren wheezing a bit and got scared and came to fetch you,
she explained, hoping he had not detected her lie.
Michael was so tired he couldnt even recall whether or not
he had dreamt. In fact he was so spent from his climax he just
wanted to put his arms around her and sleep once more. But he
needed to eat, and somehow get clean underdrawers and then
trousers back on before he disgraced himself utterly with his
lovely young companion.
He hoped one of the servants would return soon, but as they
ate breakfast, gave the boys more milk, and then settled them
both down on the pallet by the blazing kitchen fire, there was
still no sign of anyone.
It must be the storm keeping them away, she said when
she saw Michael continuing to glance at the door every so
often. But I suspect youre going to need the chamberpot and
more clean clothes at some point. Im sure Gavin spilled milk all
over you again, she said, offering him the excuse he needed to
agree with her suggestion.
He nodded his agreement. Except he had been the one who
spilled like a schoolboy...
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The tantalising curve of her breasts peeping out from the top
of the shawl nearly unmanned him all over again as she bent
near him to tidy the blankets off the floor she had left by his
chair. He could see why she had picked the gown, since it was
evidently an old work frock. But its summer-weight fabric was
much too thin without undergarments. It was so revealing as it
pushed her bosom up to curve voluptuously, practically inviting
his caress, that he knew he would not be able to withstand her
amplitudes touching him as she tried to wrestle him into the bed
once more.
Why dont you get a warmer gown, and then come help me
change into some heavier clothes? This storm is as bad as any
Ive seen in the dead of winter.
Aye, it was sleeting when we found you last night. But are
you sure Arabella
Something nice, warm, woollen, and without so much as a
hint of decolletage, or Im not going to be answerable for the
consequences, he growled, the light in his eyes telling her he
was completely serious.
But then so was she. She stepped past him, undid the shawl
and grasped his hand, placing it smack in the middle of her
bosom. Perhaps I dont expect you to be.
God Almighty, what are you doing to me? he exploded,
shock and desire transforming his features, hardening them
almost beyond recognition.
He yanked his hand away, but not before he had felt their
soft firmness, and one exquisite nipple pouting into his thumb,
begging him to circle it tenderly.
Being honest about it. Youve gawped at them long enough.
You might as well have a taste, so to speak. And that can be
arranged too
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She started to undo the small pearl buttons of the top of the
gown with an uncharacteristic boldness which shocked her
even as it propelled her onwards.
She ached for his touch, and the prospect of him pleasuring
her with his incredibly sensual mouth was almost more than
she could bear.
Stop that! Right now. Im not keeping you here for this! he
said, turning his head away, though his eyes were another
matter.
Its not harming me, and might even be helping you. Whats
wrong with that? she said, continuing to unfasten the dress.
As we said last night, theres no harm in looking. Or touching.
You can hardly blame me for wanting a bit of comfort too.
Comfort! Youre under my protection now, thats what. And
only doing this because you feel sorry for me.
The boys can be under your protection. Theyre only
children. Im a woman. And nothing bad is going to happen,
now is it? Its just a bit of harmless fondling, after all.
Her shadowy cleavage hove more and more into view. She
was about to part the top of the chemise as well when he
covered his eyes with his hands.
Please, try to understand, Bryony, he gasped. You are
easily the most gorgeous woman I have ever laid eyes on.
Generous to a fault, kind, and unflinchingly honest. And so
sensual I feel sure you must have been raised in a seraglio. But
this is wrong. I cant. Not because Im not able or dont burn to.
You need to understand now that everything Ive ever
touched in my life, cared about, Ive damaged. I dont want to
do that with you. What I did before was inexcusable. You know
what I mean, so dont even try to pretend you dont. Cant you
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see, I dont want you to feel sorry for me! I dont want you to
show me your absolutely magnificent breasts out of charity.
Can you understand that?
What if I want to show them to you because I would enjoy
seeing you pleased? And because it pleased me? she asked,
throwing the shawl lightly around her shoulders, eclipsing her
breasts just as he was about to peek.
He tried to quell his crushing disappointment. Its very kind
of you, but
She snorted with laughter. You make it sound like Im
passing the salt. Very well. I shall just completely ignore you as
a man from now on, the way you have evidently been doing. All
I know is youre wrong, Michael. Youve shown that youre
perfectly capable, and just not choosing to even try to go back
to a normal life.
He raised his head and asked bitterly, Whats the point? Im
doomed to failure.
She met his burning gaze without flinching. You will be if
you never try. Just as I will be if I dont try to live life on my own
terms from now on, and that means making myself happy as a
woman, instead of waiting for any man to do it for me.
Setting her mouth into a triumphant smile, with one last
defiant gesture she tugged down the chemise, flashed her
glorious creamy breasts with dusky rose nipples, and strode
from the room.
Michael put his head in his hands and shook it, barely able
to breathe for wanting her. Lord, but she was gorgeous. He
wanted to kiss down between her thighs, perch her on the
kitchen table and spread her like jam, lap her like sorbet. Drink
from her as if she was a bottle of the finest wine. H
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e felt himself almost on the brink again, and allowed himself

one more image of her in his lap, this time thrusting her sweet
little bottom into his abdomen as he impaled her, and he
tumbled over the brink once more.
He held himself through his drawers, exploring the
sensation, which waas more than he had yet felt since he had
nearly been killed.
As the great spurts finally subsided, he was sure he had felt
them right down to his toes. Was it possible the drug and wine
he had taken last night had caused this? Or was Bryony truly a
gift from the gods?
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Chapter Nine
When Bryony came back down again a short time later, she
was swathed from head to foot in a demure navy wool gown
trimmed with cream lace. By that time Michael was calm, truly
ready to sleep, and eager to get out of his sodden clothes.
How the petite ebony-haired goddess had managed to
unman him so easily twice in the space of an hour or so was
more than he could fathom. It really had been too long. And
perhaps he really was recovering?
Drat. Now that she was going to be working for him he could
hardly have lady-birds coming to visit him in his home, in front
of the children...
Well, she would have to take time off and...
Who was he trying to fool? After meeting Bryony, touching
her, feeling her nestle against him as if she belonged there,
how was ever to even consider sharing a bed with anyone
else?
She pushed him into his chamber and with a business-like
efficiency, got him a clean heavy flannel shirt and waistcoat,
trousers, clean drawers and socks. She wheeled him behind
the screen and got him some hot water and a wash cloth and
soap, and a towel. She waited whilst he raised himself, and
stripped off his lower garments, including his socks, before
helping him slide onto the commode.
Ill be back in about fifteen minutes?
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He nodded, not meeting her eyes.

She placed her long lean fingers under his chin, forcing him
to meet her eyes. You are not to be embarrassed, do you hear
me? If you ever are, just think of how I disgraced myself in the
kitchen.
Before he could turn away she planted a light but thrilling
kiss on his lips, turned and shut the door behind her.
As if he could think of anything else...
She returned to see if he needed her help about twenty
minutes later. The boys were now settled back in the doctors
study, and the house put back in order for the most part. It was
snug and cosy, and she explored the fine rooms downstairs
and looked out the window at the dreadful storm.
Everything is flooding and icy, she said to Michael a short
time later when she went in to check on him.
He was in his clean shirt, and she could see he had finished
his ablutions. She wheeled him away from the screen to put on
his drawers and trousers, and from there they went over to the
bed and she got him into it with a minimum of fuss.
Very good, Bryony. Resort to the time honoured method of
deflecting an awkward conversation with a discussion of the
weather, he said.
She heaved him over onto his face none too gently. Id be
careful with that sarcasm if I were you. Youre not in much of a
position to argue with me, now are you?
Her tone was light and bantering however, so he did not take
umbrage as he might have done.
Once she got him safely in bed and comfortably arranged,
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she pulled the covers up over him. With a kiss on the brow such
as she had given to her sons, she left him.
After she had finished helping Michael, Bryony returned to
the kitchen to eat once more, glad to be away from his dark
boording presence that filled her with such longing. Away from
those eyes, so like a hungry wolf's. Except that he looked as
though her was going to devour her in quite a different way.
She gave the boys a bite of toast and jam each. Once they
had finished eating, she made sure the children were
comfortable in the doctors study, on the padded examining
table once more. Then she laid down on the large horsehair
sofa and pulled the blanket draped over the back of it onto her.
Bryony felt almost too keyed up to sleep. She couldnt stop
thinking about what had happened between her and Michael.
Really, what had ever possessed her to behave like such a
shameless wanton? But then, no man had ever looked at her
with such fierce, all-consuming desire before. It was a heady
sensation, feeling like an alluring woman in her own right
instead of a bank account or victim.
But then Michael had been right. She felt herself to be safe
with him because he seemed decent, and in his chair he would
never be able to force her to do anything against her will. He
was a kind man with a pitiable set of circumstances. Hhe was
so alone, needy and full of longing. It wasnt his fault his body
had betrayed him, or that the career he had no doubt been so
good at was now gone.
She didnt know his financial circumstances, but she doubted
he was as well-off as his friend the doctor, though he had said
he had a large empty house. No family? He had indicated they
were estranged. At least he had some friends, a doctor, more
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than helpful to ensure his well-being.

It would be presumptuous, she knew, and Dr. Sanderson
might think ill of her, but perhaps if she asked about his
progress...
But no, it was none of her business. In any case she had
enough to worry about for the moment nursing her own sons.
He evidently resented needing her help. And she really had
overstepped the bounds of propriety showing him her breasts.
But then, what he had done had as well. She didnt blame
him; she knew men had certain needs. Some more than others.
Her husband had been incessant to the point of mania. So
much so that she would never have been able to satisfy him
even if she had wanted to. Other men seemed content with
celibacy. Michael probably fit somewhere in the normal range of
the two extremes. She did a quick mental calculation. It must
have been almost two years since he...
But she had not come here for anything other than medical
attention for the boys. As attractive as she found him, she knew
any romance was doomed from the start. She came from a
different world, and was now a pauper. She did not want to be
viewed as a charity case. She had more pride than that. And
she did not want him to think she was whoring herself just to
stay in his home. No, if she had not done it before, she would
not now.
She determined to ignore his divine appearance, and simply
treat him respectfully. Her emotions had been stretched to
near-breaking point. She had been nearly hysterical. She would
apologise for being overwrought and that would be the end of it.
She would keep her distance...
But Bryonys resolutions were easier said than done, for as
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the day advanced and there was still no sign of anyone

returning in the horrendous weather, it was as though they had
been washed up on a desert island, just the four of them. And
intimacy was thrust upon her when he began to dream again,
waking her from her own slumbers.
She flung back the covers and ran, and this time she
grabbed his shoulders and shouted, Michael, Im here. Bryony.
Come back to me.
He struggled and thrashed for a time, then partly sat up and
snatched at her. His eyes were open, but as he looked at her
she was sure he could see nothing.
Im sorry, sorry. Oh God. Please dont.
Its all right, Michael, Im here. I wont let you go. Im here.
He quieted somewhat, easing his grip upon Bryonys
shoulders, closing his eyes, his breathing beginning to even out
at last. She stroked his brow and cheeks, and he relaxed back
upon the pillow with a breathy sigh, taking her with him into the
bed. She held him for a time longer, until his towering arousal
told her a whole new emotion had replaced his fear.
Then she knew it was time to leave, for she dare not risk him
awakening to find her there. Their new-found friendship was a
fragile thing, and she did not wish a matter of wounded pride or
embarrassment to damage it any more than it already had.
Still, she hated the thought of all the nights he had lain alone
in the bed, comfortless, reliving his nightmares over and over
again night after night before she had come.
What did he dream of? she wondered. What could have
happened that would have been so terrible he would have cut
himself off from humanity so completely?
It was not what had happened to him, she guessed. It was
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something he had done himself. Him staring at his hands,

washing them obsessively as she had seen him doing when he
had tended the boys, they were all symptomatic of guilt and
some sort of obsession, a moment in time he was reliving
repeatedly.
Bryony lingered for a time longer, tidying the room, sweeping
up the broken glass on the wooden floor by the window. She
smelled the odd sweetish aroma once more and tried to
remember what it reminded her of. She looked through his
things to see how much spare clothing he had, and its state of
repair, in order to decide if she should put on a tub of wash.
She emptied the chamberpots and cleaned and replaced
them. When she was sure all was in order she returned to
check her sons. Still sleeping. Good. That was the best thing for
them.
Despite her resolution, she trailed back into Michaels room.
Sitting by the bedside, she took his hand. She could see the
difference in him at once. All of his muscles relaxed, and she
could see him falling into a deeper, less tense rest.
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Chapter Ten
Bryony was not sure how long she sat with the slumbering
Michael in case his nightmares returned. A sound toward the
front of the house late in the afternoon alerted her to the fact
that someone was coming.
She ran out into the foyer and saw a handsome-looking
couple, obviously married, come in shaking themselves like two
wet dogs.
Hello, they both said, astonished at the appearance of the
lovely stranger.
Can I help you? the tall dark-haired man asked quickly.
Bryony introduced herself and explained quickly why she
was there.
To Dr. Sandersons credit he immediately took his bag into
the study to examined her sons, while Arabella went in to check
on Michael and make sure he was all right.
He was still sleeping peacefully, so she returned to where
Bryony was standing.
Im so sorry for borrowing your things, availing myself of
your hospitality, she said shyly to the lovely woman she
guessed to be about her own age.
She had hair black as a ravens wing, and the most
remarkable violet eyes. She seemed reassuringly calm and
competent.
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Dont mention it. Its the least I can do. You must have been
so scared for the boys. How old are they?
Darren is five, Gavin three.
And how is Michael? she asked in a quiet tone.
Hes fine. A very good doctor.
And the servants? Did they get you all you needed?
Theres no one else here.
Arabella started in surprise. I dont understand. Sam was
supposed to
Theres been no one. Weve both fended for ourselves.
Michael even checked me for lice and fleas.
Did he now? Arabella said, her curiosity piqued.
Bryonys answering blush spoke volumes.
And he, well, has he had nightmares?
Yes, but not so bad after a time. He did cut his finger,
though.
Ah. Now it was Arabellas one syllable which spoke
volumes. But come, child, we mustnt keep you standing in the
hall. You must be done in.
And youre wet. Here, I can play abigail for you, help you
out of those soaking things whilst your husband tends to the
boys.
Yes, indeed. Thank you.
She followed the other woman up the stairs and helped her
off with her heavy saturated woollen gown, and then her layers
of petticoats.
She noticed Arabella was not modest in front of her, and in
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fact stripped down to her bare skin and pulled on a wrapper.

Im going to have a nice long soak. Ill get the underthings, and
you can select a gown for me.
Bryony picked a warm burgundy one.
Ah, one of Blakes favourites. So I shall have to ask you in
advance if youll forgive us if were bad hosts and vanish off to
bed early, she said with a wink.
Bryony blushed. Not at all. You dont have to entertain me,
Mrs. Sanderson. I fear Ill be poor company after the long night I
had. But Michael
Arabella, please. Michael fends for himself for the most part.
He and Blake play chess and discuss business and politics. He
also likes to be alone with his own thoughts. It would be good if
you could try to divert him, ensure that hes less gloomy.
She ducked her head shyly. It is hardly my place, especially
if he is to be my master.
Oh, so hes offered you a job already? Arabella said with a
knowing inward smile. What, pray?
His secretary. He said were going to compile a multi-lingual
dictionary.
How wonderfu! He and our friend Alexander have spoken of
it often in recent months. Now that the war is well and truly
over, they had hoped to begin in earnest, but Michael has kept
fobbing Alexander off. I cant tell you how delighted I am to hear
this news. Wait until I tell Blake.
So he wasnt, um
Wasnt what? she asked with a sharp look.
Bryony hesitated, then said, Just making the offer because
he felt sorry for me?
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Arabella smiled tightly and shook her head. No, Im sure

not. Whatever his motives, Michael Avenel is not know for
being a man of sentiment. He was one of the most decorated
officers during the recent war. Michael got all his medals and
ribbons from leading at the front. He had all the makings of a
great general until Toulouse, or so they say.
Blake tells me he was the most ruthlessly efficient soldier
and killer he had ever seen. His nickname was the Grim
Reaper. It was reported by some French deserters that there
was a huge reward on offer for anyone who could wound or kill
him, to throw his men into disarray. His men were known as the
Flowers of Toulouse, so many died on that field trying to take
their objective.
A shell got him in the end, yet even as he lay so badly
injured he didnt want to be taken from the field. He couldnt
bear to see his men going into battle, dying without him there.
The other side of the Grim Reaper was completely
compassionate toward his men. Blake told me no other officer
spent so much time in the hospital with his wounded men,
writing to their families personally and so on. His brother dying
changed him a great dealhe blames himself for causing the
young chap to emulate him and enlist.
Arabella shook her head. I dont mean to gossip. I just
thought, well, youve seen him having one of his funny spells by
now. So theres no point in trying to deny it. I have no doubt you
will do very well as his secretary. But you need to be prepared
for the fact that he wont be like other employers.
Never having had one before, I have no expectations to be
either fulfilled or disappointed.
So who or what are you running from? Arabella asked with
a direct look which told Bryony she was a friend, and there was
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no point in even trying to lie.

A dreadful set of in-laws. Im a widow. My son Darren
inherited. They want a comfortable lifestyle, to squander
everything. My brother-in-law tried to, well She blushed.
Are you all right? Arabella gasped in alarm.
Yes, it was months ago. Ive managed to avoid molestation
for the most part. But Im afraid if Derek finds me hell take over
the children, never let me see them unless I give him all he
asks. I couldnt bear it.
Then you shant. Youre among friends now. Arabella
ventured to pat her on the shoulder, and then indicated they
should go downstairs.
Thank you for telling me about Michael. But you wont
I wont mention it. I do think you might ask my husband
about Michaels medical condition while youre here, though. Its
supposed to be private, but if youre going to be living with him
in the same house, it is possible you might be able to do him
some good.
Me? she asked, surprised that she could be deemed of use
to anyone.
Encourage him to go back to the Baths, for example. Try
some new treatments. Blake is sure he could walk again if he
tried. Michael feels being crippled is his penance. For killing so
many, and for surviving when so many others died. He would
rather have a living death than a whole life. Weve been trying
to get him to see people, well, um, women, if you take my
meaning. He just wheels into his room and shuts the door.
Women? Bryony asked stiffly, wondering why the word
filled her with such dread.
Blakes cousins, Ellen and Georgina Jerome. Georgina is a
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bit flighty, just getting over an ended engagement, but not a bad
sort. Ellen has been through something similar, and is too
traumatised to ever make anyone a good wife at this stage.
She's not made of such stern stuff as her sister, though she is
the elder of the two. They are both very immature, in point of
fact. But many men like them young and giddy.
Not Michael, though? Bryony asked, hoping she did not
sound too interest.
Arabella paused in the donning of her chemise to shake her
head. No, apparently not. He took one look at them and rolled
away. I would have thought Georginas decolletage would have
been more than enough enticement, myself, but
Bryony shook her head. Really, Im better off not knowing
any of this.
Arabella grinned. No, quite. Im told Im really too outspoken
at times. It comes from working with the sick, and male doctors.
I ought to try to sugar-coat things a bit better, and not gossip.
Sorry, its one of the problems with living in such a tiny district.
Any novelty gets magnified out of all proportion. Bath will be
much better for you to hide in, if you take my meaning.
I do indeed. Thank you. Ill try to keep out of sight until we
leave.
I shall tell the servants you are a cousin of Michaels just
down from London.
Thank you. Youve been most kind.
Bryony! Bryony! Michael shouted.
The two women exchanged looks, and Bryony blushed. Id
better go see what he needs.
Michael was awake and worried. Are you all right? he
demanded. I thought I heard noises. You talking.
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Blake and Arabella are home.

He lapsed back onto the pillows. Oh good. The boys?
Yes, fine. Blake is with them now.
Any servants home?
No. But Ill help you if you need--
Blake can do it, he said curtly.
Hes busy. Im here. Ill help. She handed him the
chamberpot and withdrew before he could get angry or look
away from her.
In fact all his attention was rivetted upon her, for she was
breathtaking, manna to his starved senses. Her voice, her eyes,
her own natural perfume, her gorgeous lips. Her blue-black hair
gleamed now that it was dry. It billowed down her back freely
well past her hips. He longed to bury his face in its satin fall.
She caught him looking at it when she entered a short time
later with some tea and biscuits. She self-consciously pulled it
back and looped it around itself to pull it away from her face.
Ill get up now.
Thats all right. Just rest and have your tea.
He nodded and sipped.
Tell me about your friend Alexander.
His brows rose.
You and Arabella both mentioned him, she clarified.
He gave her a long look and finally shrugged. Merchant, old
college friend, French emigre, excellent at languages, wounded
in the war, blind and crippled. He had to learn how to walk and
talk again, and even had to re-discover his own identity. His
wife Sarah helped him. Shes the sister of the vicar of Brimley
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and Eltham, Jonathan Deveril. He, Thomas Eltham, who is the

Duke of Ellesmere, and Clifford Stone were the founding
members of the Rakehells at Eton, a group of Radicals quite a
few of us began to follow, tried to emulate.
Not all of us were rakes in the truest sense. I think only
myself and Philip Marshall can be accused of that failing. And
my youngest brother Randall and his close friend Matthew
Dane got quite lusty as they grew up, by all accounts, though
Ive not seen them for years. But the Rakehells uprooted
everything and everyone. I would do the same again in a
minute and make no apology for it.
He sounded so fierce Bryony raised her hands in a gesture
of surrender. I would never expect you to apologise to me.
Im sorry. Not you, my family. I didnt mean to snap.
I understand this has been hard for you, Michael. For me
too. Once my father was dead, my mother blamed me. She
said that I was spoiled. That I had made my own bed, that sort
of thing.
He took her hand and squeezed lightly. Ive discovered that
my friends have meant more to me on the whole than my own
family ever did apart from my youngest brother Randall. We
were like twins once despite the considerable gap in our ages.
The Rakehells are good men. I have no doubt you will meet
them all in the fullness of time, for by some odd twist of fate
weve all ended up settling very close to one another. Blake, for
example, is in line to inherit Jerome Manor as a distant male
cousin. Hes never lived anywhere but in London and Spain
before.
"Jonathan was a rather flamboyant chap until he found God,
was ordained, and became vicar in the area. It was Thomas
gift of a living. Then Alexander met Sarah and married her and
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settled here too. So did Philip Marshall, just back from Australia
after ten years away. So you see, weve all been charmed by
the region and stayed.
I can see why you would wish to stay. Its lovely.
Yes, lovely. he said, looking at her warmly.
She had no doubt he was recalling the little incident in the
kitchen. How was she ever supposed to help him into the chair?
She could barely even think about touching him in the nervous
state she was in.
She told herself to stop being silly. Michael needed her help
and she had no one to blame but herself for her foolishness
and impetuosity. He was supposed to be her master now, for
pitys sake. Not her lover.
No, never that, she thought with a mixture of relief and
sorrow as she looked at his lush lips, which now twisted into a
half-smile.
Do you suppose we can go join the others now? I rather
fancy seeing how the boys are, and Im sure Blake will have
formed an opinion by now.
Yes, of course. How do you want me to help?
Legs out first. Once Im perched on the edge we can
manoeuvre me.
She tugged heaved and twisted. At last, with a few panting
sighs, they rested, her at the foot of the bed, and he safely in
his chair.
I need to eat more, build up my strength.
No need, there are servants
But I want to help, and we should all be trained.
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She began to push the chair but he said gruffly, I can

manage, thank you.
Oh, I'm sorry, youre right.
He glowered at her and pushed his wheels hard with a lurch,
leaving her to trail along behind, watching the muscles in his
powerful shoulders ripple like those of a Greek gods.
Stop that, she scolded herself. You're going to work for him,
not warm his bed.
But all the same, the ache deep inside her belly for his arms
around her once more, for her to sit in the hard heated warmth
of his embrace, was almost more than she could bear.
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Chapter Eleven
When Bryony and Michael got to the study, Blake praised his
friend for the excellent job hed done with tending to the
children in the throes of their crisis.
Good thinking, he said at the end of Michaels summary of
what they had done for them both. I couldnt have really done
much better myself. They were in a badly weakened condition.
Another pair of lives saved, Michael. He offered him his hand
to shake.
Michael scowled and said he was going back to his room in
such an arctic tone that Bryony did not dare offer to go with
him.
Arabella shrugged her shoulders apologetically, gathered
her garments, and went off to have her bath, leaving Blake and
Bryony alone.
They spoke of the boys for a time, but when Bryony was
sure that they had covered everything, she asked, And what of
Mr. Avenel? Do you think hell ever be able to walk again, lead
a normal life? Hes offered me a job you see, and I really would
like to help him after all hes done for my sons.
He gave her a long look and then motioned for her to sit on
the sofa. She did so, settling herself into one corner with the
blanket over her lap.
Blake paced back and forth for a time. At length he
shrugged. Its hard to know for sure. Its a miracle hes even
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still alive. If they hadnt brought him in so quickly, if I hadnt

been there when they did... Though not as quickly as he should
have been, mind you. He didnt want to leave his men. He saw
them being slaughtered like cattle. The Flowers of Toulouse.
He shook his head. They certainly scattered like petals in
the wind. It was a bad business. During the war, some men
werent brought in for days. He ordered his men not to take him
from the field.
"As soon as he passed out from loss of blood they brought
him straight to me. Perhaps I should have let him die. But I
never had a brother, or sister. Michael is the nearest thing Ive
ever had."
"I understand," she said with a warm smile.
Not that I dont love all the Rakehells the same way. Several
of them were comrades in arms for at least part of the war. But
Michael and I were best friends in the same way Thomas is
Philips, or Thomas, Jonathan and Clifford are a true family,
though Clifford has his own brother, Henry as well."
"You all sound like a remarkable group of men."
And Michael was the best of us at war, though it was the
last career anyone would have ever believed for him. He was
certainly destined for greater things, the pride of the family,
though he also had four brothers."
Bryony's brows knit. "Four? He only mentioned the one."
Blake paused in his pacing and nodded. "The next to last lad
went to war with him and was killed. It changed him completely.
It terrified him that his brothers all idolised him, wanted to be
like him in every way, so he shunned them in the end, even
though it was so painful for him."
"I see."
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Blake sat down opposite her on a small footstool. "He and

his youngest brother Randall were like two peas in a pod
except for their politics. Randall was very dreamy and artistic,
sensitive as they say, very much in love with an unsuitable girl
by all accounts. But otherwise they were remarkably similar in
every respect, and best of friends until Michale felt he was
tainted, a bad influence upon him due to their brother's death.
Once Michael cut himself off from them, he and I were family.
And have been ever since.
Cut himself off?
Well, his father cut him off first for his Radical politics, and
for signing up for the war in the first place. As I said, Michael
was destined for much greater things.
"I'll let him tell you in his own time his true identity, but trust
me when I say that he isn't hiding from the world because he
has done anything shameful, but because he thinks he would
be a burden to his family now that he's a cripple."
"In any event, Im telling you all this in confidence so that you
know something about why Michael is the way he is. Alone and
bitter, angry, and in a lot of pain, though he takes nothing for it.
I dont know how he lives with the agony.
Bryony was stunned. I thought he was paralysed. He told
me he cant feel
Blake nodded. Even though he is paralysed, there was a lot
of damage to the back where he still has sensation. The truth is
I dont know if he will ever get well. I think he needs to have
some sort of motivation to do so. He refuses to see his family,
and most of the Rakehells. Arabella and I have been trying to
encourage him as best we can, but hes convinced his life is
over.
In fact, hes been getting so morose these past couple of
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days we came back early from the Jeromes house party just to
make sure he was all right. Just as well we did, for the sake of
the young lads. Now we find the servants left him alone as well,
so goodness knows what he would have been like on his own.
"At least he's had you here. You seem to have been some
comfort to him. I can see hes let you help him in and out of the
chair and, er, well, done other things?
She blushed and nodded. Yes, he has, though he didnt
really have a choice, did he, with no servants being around, as
you say. He does have an awful lot of pride."
"It goes with his old life, but it's hard to take in his new, if I do
say so myself. He can be stubborn to a fault in that regard, but
as his friend, I have to respect his wishes, and allow him to live
his life as he sees fit."
"But if he has some feeling in his, er, manly parts, does that
not mean
Blake stared at her in shock. He had known his friend to be a
ladies man, but this had to be a record even for him.
Bryony caught his look and shook her head vehemently.
No, you misunderstand. I merely meant, well, he, um Oh
dear, this sounds awful. What must you think of me? The fact is
the boys got milk all over him and he had to change his clothes
and well, became aroused, she said with a blush.
The mixture of lies and truth was the most convincing
explanation she could think of which would not cast her in the
worst possible light.
I see. Youre no longer married? he asked quietly.
No. Im a widow. Over a year now.
Then you have nothing to be ashamed of. Even if you did,
um
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But we didnt. I didnt anyway, or at least not on purpose,

she protested.
I see. So he did it, or he couldnt help himself in some way?
No, I fell into his lap, and he, um She blushed again.
Ill give you a few words for it if you like. Scientific or
otherwise.
No, thats all right. After being married to my husband for six
years Im sure I could teach you a few, she said with a wry
expression.
I see. Like that, was he? Blake said, his brows knitting.
She nodded and sighed. Insatiable. A rake of the first
order.
He reached out to pat the hand that rested on her lap. Im
sorry. Michael was fond of women, but not nearly as bad as he
claims. For six years he was married to his regiment. He
scarcely even wanted to take leave for family funerals, and
never took sick leave. But hes determined to think himself the
worst possible sinner.
Blake shifted around to sit down with her on the sofa. Look,
I know you have troubles with the boys, but I would be grateful
if you would, well
What one earth are you suggesting? Bryony said in
surprise, though she had been thinking precisely the same
thoughts herself.
Im sorry, I have no right to ask it. I mean, Im not asking
you to fall in love with my friend. How absurd
Not at all absurd, actually. Indeed, I find him most attractive.
Easy to like, be in company with, talk to.
Blake laughed. He wont thank you for that. The last thing
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Michael ever did was talk to women. Oh, not that he was an
oppressor of females. He just seldom had time, and found most
of them dull.
Well, thats all about to change, Bryony said firmly, all she
had learned about Michael Avenel making him more fascinating
to her than ever, and rendering her even more determined to
help him recover.
Blakes eyes shone as he looked at the determined young
woman's set jaw. Yes, I have a feeling they might just do that
after all.
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Chapter Twelve
Michael and Bryony stayed with the Sandersons for a little
over a week, until the boys were feeling much better and
Gavins eyesight gradually began to return.
The time passed quickly, with Bryony spending all of her
time with Michael and the boys whilst Blake worked with all his
patients in his rapidly growing practice.
Arabella did her many chores, shopped in Bath for new
clothes and personal items for her house guests, and kept out
of the way. Both the doctor and his wife hoped against hope
that their romantic notions for Michaels happiness would
become reality.
Bryony allowed herself to be pampered by Michael simply
because she could see it helped take his mind off his own
predicament. He was constantly sending for food and drink to
build them all up. He read to her as she drowsed by the fire, the
boys with their heads in her lap. He carried them back and forth
to bed and even stroked her brow as she fell asleep.
They had taken a small room near his in order to avoid
climbing the stairs with the children, and because Bryony
wanted to be near Michael when he had his nightmares.
If Blake and Arabella knew she was going to him in the night,
they never said a word.
Michael might have suspected, if only because she was so
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sleepy in the day after being awakened as often as three times

a night. But she didnt want anything to diminish the friendship
which was growing between them, or shame him any more than
he felt he already had been in front of her, by mentioning his
night terrors, and the way she would embrace and soothe him
whenever he was in the throes of one, until he finally quietened
back into a normal sleep.
The affection Michael had never got to explore in the past
now came to the fore. Bryonys sons lapped up the attention
like kittens drinking cream. She couldnt believe how a man so
huge could be so tender. He was so gallant towards her she felt
like the most prominent Society belle once more.
What a contrast there was between he and her former
husband. Even in the throes of Michaels worst nightmares he
was never cruel, though she had been bruised on one or two
occasions by him striking her hand away or gripping her
powerfully. But those had been simple accidents. Her
husbands blows had all beeen intentional....
Gradually Bryony began to discover the touches Michael
would respond to calmly, and by the end of that week the
nightmares began to diminish in frequency, duration and
intensity.
He never woke, though he did begin to explore her body,
stroking down her shoulders, arms or holding her hand,
occasionally her breast. She would remain with him for a time,
and then drag herself back to her own chamber, only to be
called out again a couple of hours later.
On the sixth night she was so tired she just drew her new
dressing gown around her more tightly and slept in the chair by
his side.
She awoke just before dawn with a start. With a last warm
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pressure of her hand she scurried from the room before he

discovered her sleeping there. She was cold and stiff, but at
least they had had a solid six hours or so of uninterrupted
sleep.
During their waking time together, they conversed on their
favourite subjects in all of their languages for practice. When
Alexander Davenport and his wife Sarah came to visit, they
made a formidable and entertaining foursome. Every visitor
commented that they had not seen Michael looking so wellrested since he had been injured.
They could not have liked Bryony more, for all she seemed
to have nothing to say about her family, or how such a wellbrought up young lady had arrived so unexpectedly in his life.
She was certainly a mystery they wanted to solve, but they
could understand her fears. She was not the only woman in
their set who had had a hard life.
On the eighth day, alone together after a conversation about
where she had grown up, she noted Michael looking intently at
her, and sighed.
I can see theres one thing you wish to talk about. As my
new employer, you have the right to know more about the
woman you will be harbouring under your own roof. All right, Ill
tell you. But before I do, you must promise me you wont
interfere. Promise me you wont try to persuade me to go back.
Or try to help in some way that you think is going to make
things better.
All right, I promise.
No, you have to mean it. Really mean it. I dont want you
trying to be my white knight! Bryony said almost desperately.
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Ive given you my word. Please calm yourself. Surely it cant

be that bad.
Its as bad as you can possibly imagine.
Michael stared at her. What on earth?
He steeled himself for the worst, but even then it didnt
prepare him for the gut-wrenching terror of her next sentence.
My husband was Damien Dalrymple, Earl of Conwy.
Michaels jaw dropped. My God! Demon Dalrymple! he
burst out, his emotions all too clearly etched on his handsome
face.
Her laughter held no mirth, and was reminiscent of the
braying of a donkey. Would that I had know his sobriquet
before we ever wed.
Oh, Bryony. The Demon? He shook his head pityingly.
She could feel the tears springing up as she was forced to
recall things she simply did not wish to remember. Ever.
No, please dont ask me any questions. I cant bear to think
about it. Not now at least. Its still too painful.
Michael ground his teeth together. He and the Demon had
faced each other across the playing fields at Eton, and even as
a young man he had been wild, out of control, had fought,
gambled and swived his way from one end of England and
Wales to the other. Never had anyone seen a more volatile and
mercurial nobleman.
How on earth
She shrugged. A title covers a multitude of sins.
He was sickened. But jealous too. Damiens reputation as a
ladies man was prodigious by any stretch of the imagination,
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making him look like a virgin by comparison. He had been said

to be such a proficient lover that one stroke of his hand or
tongue was enough to provoke orgasm. One look even, if the
story about Rosalie Stanton at the New Years Ball five years
ago was true. Not to mention the more lively sexual escapades
he was said to have engaged it.
Bryony looked so timid and untouched, but he had seen
flashes of boldness, knew she was not as naive as she
appeared to be. My God, if even one half of what he had heard
were true....
His head swam with desire, and a burning need to bash the
mans face in. Michael knew he had renounced violence and
killing, but he would gladly have broken all his good resolutions
to throttle the swine for what he had evidently done to this poor
girl.
Bryony could see what he was thinking, and the fact that it
appalled as well as titillated him to know who she had been,
what she had seen, what he guessed she had done.
Hes dead now. He cant hurt us. But his brother Derek is
alive, and his mother. Father helped protect me when he was
still alive. He was intelligent enough to make sure that not all of
my dowry was given to Damien at once. That kept him in check
for a time.
After Papa was dead though, it all went. But at least by that
stage he was no longer with us very often, and most of the time
I could get him drunk enough to leave me alone. He never
caught the syphilis, the clap a few times, but I was dashed
lucky.
He had an endless number of side-slips. We had a string of
women all claiming money from the estate, and I did try to give
them something. It all went. It wasnt all their fault, after all. He
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just had the most uncontrollable appetites, for everything.

Michael sighed. And no moral conscience whatsoever, I
seem to recall. He was the year below me at school, yet even
the most senior boys were terrified of him. Hell, even the
masters were. He always stopped just short of expulsion.
He shook his head, recalling with a shudder one eighteenyear old who had been beaten within an inch of his life by the
six-foot tall fourteen year old.
He adored violence. He would have joined the Army were it
not for the fact he had to leave all of the comforts of home. And
what comforts they were. Women by the score, everything on a
silver platter, though by the time we wed they were penniless,
as I discovered too late once we were irrevocably bound, and I
was locked in the house to ensure I didn't tell my parents we
had been tricked."
"Oh, Bryony"
She held up her hand, commanding silence. "Once my
money was gone and his estate depleted, he had to move on to
greener pastures in order to indulge himself. He was trying to
kill me before he died, she revealed her voice surprisingly
steady considering the enormity of it all.
Michael's jaw dropped. When he was finally able to speak,
his words came out as an appalled whisper. Oh God, no! Are
you sure?
She nodded. A patch of wet floor polish at the top of the
stairs, a loose set of floorboards outside my room. Some falling
masonry at the front of the house when he took me out for a
walk. We never went out for walks. Im sure his brother was
helping him, even his mother. She was a cold-hearted but
passionate woman who took several of the young local lads as
her lovers and kept them like trained ponies. She never did
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anything to hold her sons in check.

She shook her head. They were all debauched, and
excused their excesses on high animal spirits. I say they never
tried to check their innate evil. I pray I shall be able to raise my
sons to be good men. That nurture will win out over nature. It
terrifies me to think they might
They wont! Theyre lovely children, devoted, kind, not
naughty at all. Not evil, he insisted, shaking his head.
She shuddered. Yes, but how long can I keep them like
that? If Derek ever finds them
He wont, I swear, Michael vowed.
She gazed at him earnestly. He will. Its only a matter of
time and his degree of desperation. Darren is the heir, and I am
his sole guardian. There's little enough left, of course. I can sell
parcels of the land to keep the place running, but it certainly
won't be They cant do anything other than try to badger the
solicitors for relief. They will not give it. He can marry a rich
heiress, but if he married me he could have control of
everything, and then kill me.
He shook his head. But to marry your brothers widow is
illegal!
The law isnt always enforced with regard to aristocratic
concerns. Besides, the law would never stop him. Nothing
stops any of them when they want what they want.
How did your husband die? Michael asked, feeling more
chilled to the bone than he ever had in his life.
She gave him a long look. I know what youre thinking. But
no, I didnt snap one day and fight back. I might respect myself
more if I had.
No, a tree fell on him in a storm. A storm not unlike the one
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we met in. Im told he suffered for days before he died. I didnt

go to him. I was so relieved I thought I might laugh in his face,
spit at him. So I pretended I was prostrate with grief and bided
my time.
But when Derek stared to make advances to me to the point
where I had to lock myself in my room, and then he tried to
separate me from the boys when I refused to give in to him, I
ran for our lives.
My God, Bryony. He shook his head pityingly.
I dont want you to feel sorry for me, Michael, she insisted,
her tone bitter. I just want you to know why I cant go back.
Also that, well, Im as damaged and crippled as you are.
He had been about to take her hand, but now scowled
furiously and began to wheel away from the sofa.
Just the thought of any man having power over me like that
again is almost too much to even bear. I dont fear you. Not
because youre in that chair, but because youre a decent man.
Youve told me that you too were a ladies man like my former
husband. But you would never take anything by force. You
would never deliberately set out to hurt and debauch innocents.
Im sorry if I embarrassed you the other day. I dont know
what came over me. I suppose its because you and I were
alone, and Ive never met a man like you, so handsome and
kind. I guess I was, well, flirting. I wanted to feel attractive,
pretty even, in front of a normal decent man. I didnt want you to
be disgusted by me.
"Im sorry. It was unworthy of me. It wont happen again. I
give you my word you wont regret hiring me, taking me into
your home.
He had no idea how she could ever think herself disgusting
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or unlovely. Or him normal and decent. But his emotions and

desires were far too close to the surface. After what she had
told him about her hellish marriage, he did not dare touch her,
compliment her. But you are Lady Bryony Dalrymple. How can
you
Rhiannon, actually. Bryony is my middle name. My mothers
maiden name was Wells. It will do for me. The title and estate
mean nothing. None of it. Please believe me, Michael. I would
rather sweep the streets for an honest days pay than ever see
that castle or its occupants again.
Bryony rose from the sofa. And now, if youll excuse me, I
think Im going to lie down for a while.
She was exhausted, and longed for his arms around her. But
after what she had revealed, she could she he hardly dared
touch her.
Lord in Heaven. Married to the Demon.
Despite all of Bryonys feminine softness she had to be
made of tempered steel to have survive marriage to such a
man for almost six years.
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Chapter Thirteen
After Bryonys remarkable revelation as to her past life
before they had met, Michael was even more tenderly solicitous
of her than before, though more aloof too, drawing back from
any accidental or purposeful touches.
His new attitude both moved and saddened her. She was
more than grateful to him for all his kindness, and did not want
him to think she feared him.
But to breach the distance which had sprung up was equally
difficult, not to mention unwise. He might need a woman in his
life, but she was no fool.
On the one hand, she longed for him desperately, as a
woman would her beloved. On the other hand, a relationship
with him as anything other than master and servant would bring
with it a whole new set of problems she wasnt sure she knew
how to cope with. She had the feeling that in some ways
Michael would be even more uncontrollable than her husband
had been.
No, she longed for him with every nerve and fibre of her
being, but she simply could not risk everything and end up hurt,
pregnant, or worse.
So they confined themselves to safe, neutral topics, played
chess and cards, and tried not to be left alone with each other
too much thereafter.
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A few days after her revelations, Michael decided it was time

to test his resolve, see if he could do the noble thing and treat
Bryony like the fine lady she was without giving in to his more
base desires. He informed her one morning to start packing,
that it was time for them to head back to his house in Bath. All
three patients were doing well, and he had prevailed upon
Blake and his wife far too long.
Or so he told them. Inwardly he was impatient to get them
home and settled. To have his things around him once more
and not have to fear him imposing on his friends by shouting
the place down in the middle of the night. No one had said
anything, but he knew....
So Bryony packed quickly, taking care of his things first
despite his protests, then getting the boys to help her with their
new wardrobes, books and toys they had been showered with
by everyone who had heard about how Michael had saved
them.
Thank you so much for all youve done for us, Bryony said,
giving Arabella a warm hug in the foyer of the house as they
made ready to depart.
Dont mention it. Our pleasure.
Well come visit you soon, Blake promised.
I hope so. In the meantime, if I can ever get him to go again
to take the waters, Ill be a happy woman.
I have every faith you shall, Blake said with a conspiratorial
wink. Without meaning to be too forward, if you cant motivate
him to get well, no one can.
With many waves goodbye, the four of them set off, and
soon found themselves at the snug, modest stone-built
eighteenth century house on the outskirts of Bath. It was quite
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quaint, set back from the road a short distance up a small steep
winding path. The coach pulled in at the stable block at the
back.
When the carriage had come to a stop, Michael gave his
best smile. Welcome to your new home, everyone. You can
head around to the front, and tell them to come out to help with
the luggage and so on. Then have a wander around and decide
which you want to settle in with the boys, he said, not quite
looking at her.
Bryony could see from the way Michael was not meeting her
eyes that he did not want her to see him struggling to get out of
the carriage and into the house.
She respected his feelings and left him to it, taking the boys
to the front of the house and ringing the bell.
Once her message had been conveyed, Simms the butler
and Robin the valet went out to help, leaving her to explore the
downstairs.
The charming sitting room in Turkey red and gold, a small
fine dining room in wine and walnut, a morning room in gold, all
bespoke a man with excellent taste. The house was
unrelievedly masculine, however, with none of the small
comforts such as curtains, cushions and footrests, needlework
and throws one would expect from a establishment presided
over by a woman.
She soon found his chamber and looked at the others
adjoining.
As hed told her, hed put in some modern plumbing, a
gravity tank and pump, and simple water heater, quite modern
and convenient. She studied them carefully, and noted the
relative paucity of furniture in his room and the study. It had to
be difficult for him to get in and out of the tub and around the
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downstairs rooms. As for the large step flight of stairs which

branched off to the left and right after a first short landing, she
could see it was impossible for Michael to hope to manage.
She wandered up there anyway, and found a wonderful
master suite of two bedrooms, the larger, with a huge bay
window, decorated in navy and burgundy, the second smaller
but more cosy in peach and cream. In between both was a
modernised bathroom and dressing room with ample built-in
wardrobe space. There was also a chamber clearly intended to
be a nursery or childs room, and an extra room which was
currently being used for storage but could be turned to any
purpose.
The suite would have been ideal for she and the boys, and
more than she could have ever hoped for. But she did not like
the thought of being so far away from Michael when he needed
her, and stairs were always a worry where children were
concerned.
She headed back downstairs to look around again. There
was a spacious sunny sitting room currently under a film of
dust. She was sure the chamber would do well for the three of
them with a bit of work. Decorated in pale blue on blue, it
seemed warm and welcoming, and was only a step from his
bedroom and the study.
She looked at the furniture carefully. All she would need was
a dresser, screen and wardrobe, and a small brass bed. Then it
would be home.
Taking off the childrens outer garments and settling them
down on the settee for a nap, she went into the kitchen,
introduced herself to Tim the kitchen lad, and asked for some
cleaning supplies.
She was already hard at work when Michael came to look for
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her. He felt a dreadful pang seeing her polishing the furniture

until it gleamed.
I say, we have servants for that.
Im one, remember?
He felt as though he had been slapped. You are my
secretary and housekeeper, not a scullery maid. Get Tim to
help you.
Im fine. Its my room now, is it not? So I can make sure I
get it just the way I want it.
He managed to keep his temper, barely. The vision of her in
an elegant ballgown, the sparkling toast of society, in a grand
house, now reduced to scrubbing, was almost more than he
could stomach. But she was a proud little thing, and nothing if
not determined.
All right, so long as you promise to ring for anything you
need, and come see me if you need to purchase anything to
convert this room to a bedchamber.
He left, desperate to be alone to consider the implications of
having her so close to him.
Too close, he decided, for over the next few days Michael
could not seem to keep away from her. Often upon the pretext
of seeing and reading to the boys, or colouring with them using
some wax crayons he had sent Simms out to buy, along with
some other items to keep young children busy, he would see
Bryony dusting, folding clothes, sewing, cooking, or gardening.
She was never still, so that often he had to ask her to sit
down to join them and converse in whatever language he
decided. Then she would sit doing embroidery, crochetting and
knitting with the supplies Arabella had given her.
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He found himself seeking her out at all hours of the day and
night, frequently with the flimsiest of excuses, but she never
seemed to grow impatient or take it amiss.
In fact, she was easily the most placid, devoted and eventempered woman he had ever met, apart from his own mother,
who must have been a saint to put up with her husband and
five wayward sons.
He was delighted to see that all the staff were exceedingly
polite to her. If they were surprised at the arrival of his cousin
they said not a word.
As a result of the fib, however, she was in the peculiar
position of being neither kin nor servant, and thus not sure
exactly how much of the housekeeping she should reform. He
had not exaggerated when he had said his cook was pretty
hopeless. He was a former soldier down on his luck who either
burnt everything or served it half-raw, and had no notion of
shopping.
At least the meals began to improve, but she was not sure
what else Michael wanted or expected her to undertake. An
entire and much-belated spring cleaning?
The trouble with an all-male household was that men just did
not notice some things. For example, his clothes were in a most
dreadful state of repair. The laundry very much a hit and miss
affair, so that she learned he often had to send out to buy more
shirts or stockings.
Bryonys curious state of limbo was reinforced by the fact
that whenever she asked Michael about her secretarial duties,
he told her to rest and they would talk about it the following day.
Her only consolation in her entire odd situation of living with
him as closely as a wife but with none of the benefits, or
disadvantages, was that his nightmares still continued to
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diminish.
She spent at least part of every night in his room, an
eventually got right in the bed with him on top of the covers so
she could get to sleep herself, her arm loosely around his neck
or waist, her head on his shoulder, or next to his on the pillow.
Only then did he ever sleep truly soundly, and she was able to
rest herself, though his alluring masculine presence could
certainly be a distraction at times.
The sound of the servants moving around laying the fires
would awaken her. Then she would creep out of the bed and
head back to her room to dress herself and the children, and
wait for him to summon them.
She love the life they were building for themselves one day
at a time, but she felt a fraud for taking all his kindness and
seemingly giving so little in return. Especially when she was
sure she could offer so much. Like her heart and soul, if only he
would let her in....
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Chapter Fourteen
Finally at the end of her first week in the Avenel home,
Bryony cornered Michael after dinner and said, I dont wish to
seem rude, but surely you have something for me to do to earn
my keep around here.
His brows rose. But youre still so weak.
Not so weak that I cant help. Unless of course you dont
think Im up to the task, she said quietly,
No, not at all. What would ever make you say that? he
asked, surprised.
She gazed at him levelly, her midnight blue eyes looking for
any sign of dissimulation. Its just that I was wealthy and
spoiled once, and Im not very practical, I know. I need you to
help me improve my character. Teach me. Help me to be a
good housekeeper and helpmeet. I dont know what you want
me to do. What my duties and boundaries are.
His manner was brusque. I know little of domesticity either. I
have always been a bachelor, and a soldier for too many
years.
Surely you had a mother who-
He scowled so fiercely she gasped.
I merely meant that you would understand what my role was
to be based upon-
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I understand, but I would rather not think about my family,

he said in a cold tone.
She looked at the raw emotions on his face and said
tentatively Im sorry if Ive spoken ill-advisedly. My only excuse
is that I am very young and foolish. I would like to be better,
though. I would like to learn, be a help to you.
He sighed. Youre a big help already just being here,
assisting Cook. But we must not have you overstepping the
bounds of propriety. You are a housekeeper and secretary, not
my mother, or cousin.
She looked at him sharply and said with a lift of her chin, I
would not like to think that Ive done anything to offend you or
overstep my role here.
He sighed, and sat back in his chair. No, you havent,
Bryony. But I wonder at the wisdom of leaving you open to the
possibility of scandal such as I already have by allowing you to
live here with me under the same roof. Weve lied about you
being my cousin, and it does not sit well with me.
It does with me," she said with a decided air. "It will be the
best thing in the world for me to learn more about the way it
works.
"I was no match for Damien, I know. But Im determined that
Derek and his mother will not be able to use me as a doormat
in the sad eventuality that they ever do find me. And Ive done
nothing to be ashamed of. I want only to work for a decent
days wages.
Until you decide youve had enough of this life and wish to
go back to the comfort of your sons estate. Bryony, I still think
you should
Ah, so that was what he feared.
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She shook her head vehemently. Youve fed me, clothed

me, and put a roof over my head. Im determined to repay you
on behalf of myself and my sons. End of discussion. I think
youre an honest and decent person, Mr. Avenel. I wish to be
one as well. Meet my obligations. And yes, learn more about
myself at the same time. You allowing me to stay here gives me
the freedom to determine my own life, something Ive never
been accorded before.
In exchange, the least I can do is make your life easier as
your housekeeper and be a diligent and industrious secretary.
You gave me an opportunity when no one else would. I should
see the dictionary through to the very end at least. Does that
seem fair?
It is a huge undertaking, he cautioned her.
One I would take seriously for the sake of the education of
others and the regard I feel for your good self. Im not so sure
Im up to the task, but I promise to do my best.
He hesitated, and finally sighed. All right. I shall come up
with a list of chores and we shall try to establish a routine. But
in return youll let me know if theres anything you want or need,
or if the work doesnt suit.
You dont have to look out for me every moment of the day
and night. Im no green girl, sir. In fact, I was told before I was
married that I was not without some sense. Pray let me use it.
He nodded, satisfied in her sincere wish to help. I shall. You
can develop your own role in this house. I give you carte
blanche. I shall not interfere in your housekeeping upheavals,
nor lecture you on propriety again, he acquiesced, trying not to
look at her bright eyes, her lovely face. Good God, she was a
tempting little thing
What on earth was wrong with him!
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He was her employer. He had to protect her, ensure that she

was safe and secure. However fearful he was of his own
rampaging desires, he feared those of others more. What would
have happened to her had she knocked at another door? Had
never made it to Blakes house that night? Where would he
have been? She and the boys? He shuddered to think.
No, hard as it was to imagine sharing his life with Bryony
Wells under his roof, it was even more impossible to turn her
away when she relied on his help.
Thank you. I shant let you down. And I shall ignore your
occasional bouts of gruff behaviour. I know you must be in a
great deal of pain. While I understand your reasons for not
seeking relief, I am at least allowed to express my opinion that
youre punishing yourself unduly for something which wasnt
your fault.
His laughter at this remark had an unpleasant edge to it. I
could never accuse you of being anything less than forthright,
my dear. Therefore you may expect the same candour from
me. If youre so interested in my welfare, then I shall have to be
permitted to express my opinion on your course of action.
She gazed at him openly. Ive already heard it, sir. You
think I should seek help, legal redress. Go back to the
Dalrymple home, the tomb they call Conwy Castle, which was
almost my grave. I have told you why I will not. You have faith
in the law, which is admirable, but I do not. The boys are happy
here, and are well cared for by us all. At this point the only
person Im really hurting but not returning to what you think is
my high social status is myself.
So too am I only hurting myself.
And the family of whom you refuse to speak.
He scowled furiously.
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"They clearly loved and cared for you."

"Yes, but"
She shook her head. I assure you, Michael, staying here is
not going to result in me heading straight to perdition or my own
ruination. You fear you contaminate things, dont you? She
grasped his hand before he could deny the truth of her words.
He looked so wounded, so shocked by this unexpected and
incredible perception he had hardly dared voice except to
himself and Blake once long ago that he allowed his hand to
remain in hers. He longed to put his head in her lap and have
him stroke his hair and tell him he really was a good man after
all. But that way lay madness.
It was madness anyway. Acceding to her request. Allowing
her to remain under his roof. So close, just a few steps down
the hall from his own room, when he wanted her so....
He wheeled his chair away from her and over to the window
to stare out of it moodily. He knew her remarkable midnight
blue eyes were resting upon him with consternation. He could
not look at her, or else he would be lost.
It was madness to have her stay. But even more mad to let
Bryony leave. He simply couldnt let her go out into the cold
cruel world without being better prepared for it.
Even if she did manage to circumvent her in-laws, marry well
to another, marriage was not always the unalloyed bliss many
women hoped it would be. She had already wed one violent
and debauched man. There were plenty more of them out
there: cruel, foolish, callous.
She could be widowed again, become ill herself. There were
a hundred and one things which could go wrong in her life.
He couldnt protect Bryony from all of them, any more than
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he could protect himself from whatever Fate chose to dole out

to him as his lot in life.
But he could at least educate her, teach her what she
needed to know in order to be self-sufficient, and instruct her
sons. Make sure that even though Darren was heir, that none of
them would ever want for anything. And he would give them
somewhere to go when they had nowhere else to go. Be their
refuge.
He might never be able to possess Bryony as he burned to
do, but they were family now after all they had been through
together, in the same way as he and the Rakehells were family.
Michael turned from the window, looked at her, and sighed.
He could never be her lover, her husband, but he could look
after her. Make her part of his new family, along with Blake and
his wife and a few others of their set.
Bryony smiled up at him tremulously, seeing the warring
emotions in his expression and longing to smooth away his
frown with a kiss.
I confess to being rather at a loss. I agree to allow you to
stay and effect whatever changes in this house you like. And I
would rather have the truth than streams of meaningless
platitudes and empty pleasantries. I admit its not going to be
easy to become accustomed to sharing my home and life with a
woman, indeed with anyone, on a daily basis. I had more than
enough of that in the Army.
On the other hand, I would like a well-ordered and
comfortable establishment. Therefore, you and the boys may
stay unconditionally. I shall not try to talk you into leaving again,
I promise. I shall teach you whatever I can about business, so
you can help your sons tend to their affairs when the time
eventually comes, and we shall commence work on the
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dictionary.
I will just ask you to be patient. The arrangement will be
what we make of it. We shall just have to do our best to take
each day as it comes. I need to think a bit more about your role
in my household, your duties, what you need to learn to be an
independent woman in your own right, and how I may best look
after you and your interests.
She nodded. Whatever you think best.
Not just me, though. I would like you to have complete
freedom with regard to your future.
Her eyes widened. What a relief. Someone who believed
women were not mere chattel. In what manner? she asked
quietly, hardly daring to believe he meant what she thought he
did.
For example, your allowance. We shall make sure that you
husband your resources wisely, invest them well. We shall have
the papers are drawn up so that no matter what you decide, no
one shall be able to touch your money. Your first husband
burned through your dowry at the rate of knots. To disqualify
women from owning property in their own right is most unfair
and short-sighted. I would like to try to remedy that. If you ever
find yourself in trouble for whatever reason, you can always
come to me or Blake for help. But if we invest your money well,
you can have a nest egg of your own that no one can ever take
from you.
She stared at him. Is such a thing possible? she asked
quietly, testing his convictions.
It is. I will teach you, Bryony. Make it possible for you to be
completely independent. We will see the solicitors to draw up
the papers, and open a protected bank account in your name
only for the dividends.
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Very well, it will give us something to work towards in terms

of my education and improvement. What do we do now?
Find my portfolio and look through it. Analyse whats doing
well, and let you make up your own mind about what you would
like to invest in. I give you absolute discretion with five
thousand pounds.
She looked horrified. Thats far too much. Even five hundred
is excessive. I am a stranger to you. What on earth would
people think
Michael waved her objections aside airily. Im far too old
and out of the world to worry about that. I would also not like to
think of anything happening to you or the boys should
something dire befall me.
Oh no, please dont say that. Its too gruesome, she
gasped.
But practical. The fact is that death comes to us all.
No, please, she said, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears.
Im sorry to be so overwrought, but it was a near run thing with
Darren. I dont think Ive quite recovered from the shock.
He patted her shoulder. There, there, its all right. If you
want to cry, go ahead.
She sniffed and shook her head. If I do, I shant trouble you
with my tears.
But before she could rise from the seat he had put both his
hands upon her face and stroked the tears away from her lids
with his thumbs. His lips were only inches from her own, and
her lips parted in a silent sigh. Her lashes fluttered on her satiny
soft cheek and she waited in an agony of impatience for his
mouth to descend, eager for his kiss.
To her infinite frustration and his, he dropped his hands to
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his wheel rims and began to move away,. He was certain that
to kiss her in the manner he longed to was to commit himself
irrevocably. That once he kissed her he would never be able to
let her go.
Even after only a few days, he didnt want to let her leave
him. Couldnt bear the thought of her being unhappy. He
berated himself for his selfishness as he headed for the door.
He wheeled out of the chamber and reminded himself once
again that in no circumstances was he to think of Bryony as
anything other than his housekeeper and secretary. He could
never to consider her a desirable woman, or else he would be
lost.
Michael scolded himself over what a fool he had been in
ever offering her a job, taking her into his life. For she would
want a normal life one day, with a whole man.
No matter how kind she was being now, Bryony was well
and truly beyond his reach. Now and forever.
Chapter Fifteen
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Michael and Bryony spent the rest of the day avoiding one
another, both considering how close they had come to kissing,
and both fearing and dreading what might have happened if
they had. All their doubts and fears about themselves gnawed
at them, so that their aching longings remained unfulfilled
despite their clear attraction for one another.
That night, they had an almost silent and very brief supper,
both lost in their own thoughts though pretending they were
busy with papers, each on edge and eager to get the meal over
so they could go to their rooms to continue contemplating what
had nearly happened to them that day.
Michael tried to tell himself that Bryony was nothing special,
that he had futtered many better-looking and more lively
wenches than she.
Liar, he taunted himself. No woman had ever made his heart
lurch in his chest with just one look. And from what he had seen
of her legs and breasts, she was perfection. She most
voluptuous woman he had ever laid eyes on, and growing more
so now that she had three good meals a day, nice clothes, and
a less wary and defensive look in her eyes.
Not that she had ever been really abrasive, but the brittle,
wary and taut quality shed had when she had first met him had
been replaced by a tender kindness to all she met.
The servants adored her, and her sons were exceptionally
affectionate. He longed to have her hold him cradled to her, to
lie with his head in her lap as she stroked his hair. To lie in her
lap as she stroked his...
Stop it, stop it now.
Bryony glanced up at him timidly. She had wanted that kiss
so badly she could almost taste him on her tongue, warm and
vibrant. She guessed at coffee and brandy, a bit of chocolate,
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some cinnamon, a touch of lime aftershave. All her senses

crackled with awareness of him. She found herself staring at his
hands, so magnificently large, yet so gentle when he had
touched her face.
She shivered and drew her shawl around her. The vision of
him making love to her slowly and patiently, one huge hand on
her stomach, the other teasing her breast, her secret folds, was
enough to make her shudder again.
What on earth was wrong with her? She had sworn no man
would ever pull her strings like a puppeteer again. Yet here she
was indulging in all sorts of fantasies about bending herself to
her masters every whim.
Bending might be the correct word too, she considered, for
making love with him would pose some problems she was not
sure how to solve. Her husband had insisted upon being
dominant at all times, pinning her to the bed with his hands and
hips. Determined to take her wherever she happened to be
when the mood suited and to cause her maximum shame: in
rooms he knew were about to be entered, on the stairs, over
the sofaback or chair or table minutes before their guests were
about to arrive for their weekly at home...
She shivered once more, this time with loathing. He had
loved treating her like a whore, a convenient, a hole with no
more thought of her desires, needs and pleasures than he
thought about his clothes or furniture. She had been just a
possession, not even as important as his horse. Oh, how she
had hated him.
With Michael that spontaneity and vigorous lustiness might
have been fun. However, it was evident that it simply would not
be possible.
No, her problem would be to convince him to let it happen,
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instead of allowing his own view of himself as an undesirable

cripple get in the way.
Their gazes met across the table, and she dropped hers first
and rose. Im sorry, Im feeling unaccountably fatigued. Ill see
you in the morning.
Yes, Mrs. Wells, he said in clipped tones. Good night.
She sighed. Well, what had she expected? He would not ask
her to linger now. Not when he was embarrassed by what he
had done. Was it possible he really did not find her attractive?
She was so unsure of herself and everything else, her head
spun. Perhaps she should not even be sharing meals with him,
but dining in her own chamber or with the rest of the servants in
their quarters? She would have to see.
She went to her room, read to the children for a time, and
then changed for bed, donning a fresh night rail and slipping
between the cool clean sheets to nestle against Darren. She
left one candle lit and looked around the snug little chamber
decorated in pale blue on blue.
It was a good home, a lovely bright room. The boys had got
all theyd wished for except the puppy they had talked of when
theyd been ill with the measles. They had warmth, food,
shelter. What was the point in pining for what she couldnt have
when there was so much she did?
On that positive note she tried to fall asleep.
For once, no nightmare of Michaels disturbed her that night.
She wondered at it early the following morning even as she felt
relieved. Perhaps the bad dreams really were fading after all?
Or perhaps he was as sleepless as she?
Bryony rose long before the dawn, tired of tossing and
turning in the bed. Every time she closed her eyes she saw
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Michaels handsome face smiling down at her. Longed for his

strong arms around her, his wonderful hands and lips upon her
hot flesh
She dressed in a simple navy gown with a high white lace
collar, wrapped a shawl around her shoulders, and went into
the study to look over some papers whilst the children slept.
Michael came in about an hour later and stared at her in
surprise. Good morning, Bryony. Why have you risen so early?
You ought to have stayed in bed, or at least spent more time
with the boys.
I thought I would make a start with the dictionary as we
agreed. Decide upon a method of organisation. I thought I
might also begin the letter A myself, say A to Am, and you An to
Az, and then we could check each others work.
Quite a good idea. But you should go look in on the boys.
Do you not need me for anything? she asked, feeling a bit
hurt that he was dismissing her so readily.
He did not even look at her. It was as if he had decided she
was to be relegated to the role of just an ornament after all. She
had thought him different, that they had become friends. He
had talked fine words, but when put to the test
Its Sunday, my dear. Everyone is entitled to a day of rest,
even my secretary. I think the Lord even took one. Most of the
world is sleeping happily in bed. I suggest you join them.
Easier said than done.
I know the problems of a restless mind, believe me.
Is that why youre up? she asked quietly, hoping the
question would not seem too personal.
He shrugged. Before we start the dictionary, I must catch up
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on several things which were neglected in my absence,

including my correspondence, and a report on increasing Army
efficiency which Horse Guards requested from me when I was
formally discharged. Ive been trying to find a quiet time to finish
it. But as you can imagine, it conjures up all sorts of unpleasant
recollections I would rather do without.
Then tell them you cant do the paper. There must be other
men
He sighed. Im one of the few who kept such a detailed
diary of impressions, and I have to confess that my family is not
without power and influence.
So youre an aristocrat?
Did you ever doubt it? he asked with a certain hint of
hauteur.
Not at all. I just wondered how high up you were. After all,
you fought with your bare hands. Most officers led from the
back.
He shook his head. Not Wellington, so not me. It used to
really gall me the way some of the men used to return to
England for the winter whilst the poor common soldier froze and
starved. That's not the way to treat your comrades.
Im sure not, she agreed warmly.
Well, you can work on the report whilst I start
No, quite all right. Plenty of opportunity to start tomorrow,
he said in clipped tones.
Can I help with your report?
He smiled tightly, trying to keep his voice even as he replied.
After all, she was only trying to help. She had no idea that every
time he laid eyes on her he wanted to strip her naked and-The Model Master
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For the moment, Bryony, go back to bed and rest. Settle

into the house a bit more. Go have breakfast, enjoy the morning
room. Go out for a walk on the grounds with the boys. Youre
not to be kept a prisoner in this chamber or house. Find some
more books in the library to entertain and edify. Order around
the carriage to go to Church. Anything you need, simply help
yourself.
He went over to his own desk, opened the drawer, and took
out his strong box. There is always cash in here for
emergencies. Here is twenty pounds for last week and twenty
pounds for this coming one. Please let me know if you need
more.
Thats more than generous. Thank you.
I trust you. You need not thank me. You have your needs,
and your first lessons will be in how to earn money and spend it
wisely. As I said to you yesterday, Im not sure of all your role in
the house will entail, but I would like you to be independent.
She nodded as she took the notes and coins he had placed
on the desk.
You have the run of the house, of course. Now that you are
feeling so much better, you shall keep the keys.
He put the set he had taken from Cook down on the desk.
Her heart lifted. He had been serious after all. Ill do my
best.
I shall try not to be too harsh a taskmaster.
Im sure youll be fair. If you are harsh, it will be no more
than I deserve.
He fixed her with his piercing blue eyes. Dont be too meek,
my dear. I was raised a little lord of the manor, and can be quite
overbearing at times.
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She smiled with in amusement and relief. Very well, I shall

stand up to you on occasion. We would not want our lives
together to be too dull. She turned to leave him.
Michaels heart nearly lurched into his mouth. Dull? H e
managed another small tight smile. I have the feeling it never
shall be.
True to his word, Michael gave Bryony the day off to take her
leisure. She prowled through the entire house thinking about
improvements she could make to his life, whilst Michael worked
on his report and tried to keep his mind off the lovely ravenhaired woman he could hear pattering around, chattering to the
children, and singing.
An idea was forming in the back of her mind, but she needed
a master carpenter, and Michael would have to agree...
At one point he looked up from his papers and journals in
surprise. Bryony. I didnt hear you come in. Are you and the
boys well?
Yes, very.
Is there anything I can do for you?
She put a cup of tea down by his elbow, and some hot
buttered muffins.
No, Im just bringing you some breakfast. Its rather late
already and youve not eaten a thing.
He accepted the offering gratefully. Then he frowned. Rather
than leaving, she had settled herself on the sofa by the hearth.
What are you doing now?
Joining you by the fire while I do some mending.
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Is the fire not adequate in the morning room? he asked.

Its fine. I just thought Well, you do not mean for me to
shun you entirely on my day off, do you?
Not at all, he said quickly. By all means, sit there. Just
dont expect me to be too chatty when I have this report to
finish.
Thats fine.
She had found the mending basket with the help of Robin
the valet, and saw that his footwear needed darning, his shirt
buttons replaced. It was ever the way with bachelors, she was
sure. As lady of the household in the absence of any other, it
would be her duty to ensure his wardrobe was up to scratch.
I say, those arent my stockings, are they? he said with a
blush.
Um, yes.
Really, theres no need. I mean, it is not as if I cant buy
more.
In which case they can go to the poor, but they still need to
be mended.
Its very kind of you.
Not at all.
He felt his cheeks burn. What was it about one simple a
gesture of domesticity and thoughtfulness that had him lusting
for her all over again?
Michael tried hard to concentrate on his report. He shivered
every so often as he read a particularly vivid passage from his
journal.
After the initial distraction of Bryonys presence, he found he
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got on better than he had done when hed been struggling to

get the report finished sitting there on his own.
Well, I dont have to wonder and worry where she is and
what shes up to when shes with me, he decided as he
completed the last sentence with a flourish.
Finished?
This section of it, yes.
May I read it?
You would find it awfully dull, my dear.
I shall never learn if I only read novels.
He nodded. True. Let me just glance over it once more.
Michael read it through, and made a few changes.
Bryony approached the desk timidly and he sat her down.
She read a few sentences, and then lifted her head.
You see, I told you. Dull as watching paint dry.
No, not at all. Actually, I was going to ask you if you minded
my correcting a few of the sentences. Or is it just that you were
working on it in your lap and the writing has gone all crooked?
She pointed to a couple of errors he had actually missed.
His pale blue eyes rested up on her warmly and he had the
grace to look sheepish. Just so, my dear, though I admit those
two are my terrible writing.
I shall come sit with you if you can just give me a bit more
room, and see what I can do.
He soon wheeled the chair over a few inches to give her
more room. They spent a companionable hour going over the
rest of the report. She volunteered to make him a fair copy to
post to Horse Guards.
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Oh, no, really, you dont have to.

I dont mind, honestly. You can catch up on your
correspondence whilst I do.
In truth, she was bursting to read the whole thing. What she
had seen already piqued her curiosity no end, and she was still
looking for clues as to why he was so grim and haunted by the
past.
So Michael sat beside her going through his accumulation of
mail while she wrote out the corrected final draft of the report,
occasionally asking him to clarify a word or check the spelling
of a name.
But always Michael was aware of Bryonys gentle presence,
her dark cloud of hair escaping from the confines of its pins as
she worked. He looked consideringly at her profile, her
exquisite neck.
What to do for the best so far as Bryony was concerned, that
was the question. She and her sons had settled in well, but this
was not the life they could have. Not if he helped them. To
allow her to continue working for him was unthinkable.
But then so was letting her leave. She had too much pride to
take his assistance without working for him in exchange. She
really ought to have an establishment of her own. He felt a
selfish brute for ever allowing her to remain.
The truth was he adored having them in the house. Had
enjoyed every minute they had shared, playing chess and cards
and conversing all the while, reading aloud, and even playing
the pianoforte. He had adored music before the war, but had
not played for a very long time until she encouraged him. Her
wonderful soprano voice even gave him the urge to set to
music some of the poems he had composed in Portugal and
Spain, kept in a separate journal as too personal to ever be
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revealed.
He wondered what her life had been like in Wales. If she had
a home of her own, he was sure that the men would buzz
around the well-bred widow like flies around a honey pot and
she would be far away and truly lost to him. She seemed happy
here, and less haunted by her past. Was it really so unfair to
allow her to stay?
But the fact was that her eldest lad would be a great man
one day if given the right chances and upbringing. Living with
him as the son of his housekeeper was simply not in his best
interests. The boys needed a real man in their lives who could
take them hunting and fishing, riding. All the pursuits of a
gentleman.
Of course they could learn languages through their mother,
and now all about business, and trade. They would have a
great number of choices, if only they would go back home to
the earldom.
What to do about their evil uncle was the problem. Michael
took out a fresh sheet of paper and wrote to his old friend
Alistair Grant the barrister, confiding Bryonys situation to him
and asking for his expert opinion. He would hear from him
soon, and they would leave....
Thats a very weighty sigh, she observed quietly.
I was just thinking about all of the opportunities the boys are
missing by being here with me. Never having a chance to
spend time with a normal man. I would ask you again to
reconsider going home. In fact, you know full well I could force
you to.
Her eyes flashed with defiance despite her despair at his
seeming determination to get rid of her. Do I not get a say in
the matter?
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You do. Were discussing it now, Michael said mildly.

She sat back in her chair. I see. Im sorry. Its just that Ive
been so happy with you this past fortnight ever since the storm.
I know Im still trying to settle in, but I will work hard, make you
proud.
He sighed again. I know it. That isnt the issue. It never has
been. Dont you see, Bryony, the longer you stay, the more
difficult it will be to take up the reins of your old life once more.
Youve already been away six months and
But I dont want to go back. I was married to the Demon, for
Heavens sake! If I never step foot in Wales again it will be too
soon. Why do you refuse to believe me?
"Besides, who are you to judge? Youre no different. You
refuse to rejoin the bosom of your family. Have rejected all the
opportunities that being in your aristocratic milieu would entail.
If you believe theres more to life than endless rounds of
socialising, why are you asking me to go back? Is it because
you think thats all Im fit for?
No, not at all, he denied hotly.
She grasped his hand as it lay on the blotter. Then dont ask
me again to leave. Please. I know youre trying to help, that you
care for us, the boys, I mean, she clarified quickly.
They adore you, disabled or not. Theyre not coming to any
harm by being here with you. This is the happiest theyve ever
been. Me too. Please dont keep trying to send us away?
Her limpid blue eyes pleaded with him for understanding,
and answers he really didnt want to give her. She was so
close, so tempting....
I only want you to be happy. It must be a big change, living
with a crusty old bachelor like myself He shrugged.
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Im sure Ill be fine. So long as you treat me like a useful

and sensible member of society, not a bit of skirt, let me really
help you with the things in your life that are important, well get
along well.
He stared at her for a time and then glanced down at the
blotter at her lovely neat handwriting. She had done it again,
got round him despite his best intentions.
How are you coming with that paper? he asked curtly.
Nearly finished.
Good. As soon as you are done with that, Miss Skirt, we
can start teaching you about my investments.
She grinned at him and nodded.
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Chapter Sixteen
By the time dinner was announced, Bryony was famished,
and her head was spinning. But she felt a huge sense of
accomplishment, and was delighted with Michaels warm praise
for her quick grasp of the basic principles. They said Grace and
then began to devour their fish with gusto.
Youve done very well. Now, I expect you to keep a little
account book. The newspaper is delivered every morning. You
can check the price of your consols and so forth.
Thank you for not treating me like a twit.
Im a firm believer in equal rights for women. I do believe
you ought to be protected in other ways, but theres no reason
why you cannot manage your affairs yourself. I had to learn,
after all. Males are not born with a mastery of the stock market
any more than a woman with a mastery of the harp or
pianoforte.
I know you play very well. Do you also paint and sketch?
He nodded. Yes, but only caricatures. I was known to have
a very scathing wit in my day. It got me into all sorts of trouble
at school. My brother Randall is an artist, a very talented one
when he chooses to focus upon that side of his personality.
I can well imagine you getting into all sorts of scrapes. You
must have been a willful little article, worse than Darren or
Gavin.
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Most assuredly. He gave a slight smile.

She marvelled at how something so simple could render him
even more divine to look at.
Such a busy man as yourself, its a wonder you have time
for the boys. You will tell me if they are a nuisance, wont you?
she requested quietly.
His pale blue eyes flashed fire. They could never be that.
Im sure I have been, though. Nagging you about
Ive pressed you too, he conceded in a gracious manner.
I know, but were clear about why Im here. Anything you
want or need. Please, let me help, she said firmly.
His breath caught in his throat at the offer. I shall consider
the matter. But for the moment you might contemplate helping
the servants take inventory, discover all you can about the
innermost workings of the household. I must admit its not
something I pay much attention to. It runs smoothly, so I leave it
alone. You may have different ideas as to what constitutes
smoothly. I ask you as a favour to see what can be done. If you
can run a whole estate in the country by yourself, you can most
certainly take me in hand.
I shall then. Thank you for your confidence in me.
They smiled at each other tentatively, and turned back to
their dinner.
After dinner, they went back to the study to work until
supper, with the boys coming in and out pretending to be race
horses, much to Michaels amusement.
Do you think you could ride if we were to manage to get you
into the saddle?
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He shook his head. No chance. Not unless it was one of

those ornamental ones that support one before and behind, he
said with a sigh.
You wouldnt think to look at me know that I was once a
great horseman. Well, all my brothers were, especially Randall.
Alas, my brother Francis was killed in a riding accident.
Oh yes, I can tell with your muscles, she said, then
blushed. The memory sprang to mind once more of his bare
chest, his trousers slipping down over his huge
Bryony shook her head and shuddered. Stop that.
She took a deep breath to calm herself. Im sorry about your
brother.
He shrugged. It was a long time ago. I lost my family before
that anyway when I enlisted.
He looked so grim she quickly suggested some music.
He nodded, relieved, and wheeled himself toward the
drawing room. They finished the night with some Bach airs,
and retired early. Each could not wait to get away to the privacy
of their rooms to dream about the other.
The next fortnight of her sojourn in Bath was spent as per
Michaels request with, Bryony overhauling the house from top
to bottom. She took him at his word and left no room
untouched.
Apart from a couple of rides around the small property to see
the lay of the land, she devoted herself to Michael and the
boys. With a pinafore over her gown, and her hair tied up in a
kerchief, and smudges of dust all over her, she was more lovely
than ever in Michaels eyes. He had all to do not to pull her into
his lap for a bit of comfort, which he suspected would be as
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welcome to her as it would be to him. But no...

Bryony was acutely aware of Michael as a man, just as she
knew he was aware of her as a woman. Once her initial round
of frenzied chores were out of the way, she decided that whilst
he admired her for her ready mind and hard work, few men
found a bluestocking alluring.
She also knew that he was not acting upon his interest in her
because of his role as employer, but also his conviction that he
was somehow less than a man. She grew determined to show
Michael just how much of a man he could be.
So each morning she woke him, putting on her most winning
smile as she entered with a cup of rich hot chocolate which she
put by the bedside before fluffing up his pillows and propping
him up more comfortably. Her gowns were not too obvious, but
she did occasionally pull them down and smooth them over her
ample breasts, and bent over a great deal when she was near
the bed.
Michael looked up and smiled. Hello. How are you?
Well. And you?
Very well, thank you.
She would give him a few long intimate looks and reminders
of what they needed to do that day whilst she bustled about
selecting his clothes to wear and ensuring he had everything he
needed.
Then she would strategically withdraw and wait for him to
come to her.
Most of their day was taken up with chores, the investments
and dictionary, and they worked long hours into the evening.
Throughout the day the boys were ever at their side,
clambering onto his lap for attention when their mother was
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running around tending to other things.

She was delighted at how well they got on with each other. It
was as if he had always been with them. Occasionally she even
fantasised that Michael was their real father, that her first
husband had been a mere figment of her imagination, a horrible
nightmare now over.
Bryony had other nightmares to contend with in any event.
She still spent a great part of her nights in his room comforting
Michael, and his violent reactions were diminishing as well. In
fact, he seemed quite tender with her now, and even smiled in
his sleep a few times as if he were glad she were there. But she
was fairly certain that he had never awakened, had not
guessed. She had a feeling he might be very angry if he did.
At the end of the fortnight he commented at breakfast one
day, I must say youre doing wonders with the place. Much
more cosy. Wonderful cushions, crocheted blankets, and I think
I must have the best wardrobe in Bath now thanks to you. Not
to mention Cooks new receipts. Something smells delicious.
Im glad youre pleased.
I should like to take the boys to Bath shopping and for tea
today.
Oh, but we have so much to do
I always make time for things which are important.
Thank you. I shall get them ready. I hope you all have a
lovely time.
Youre coming too, he said, looking at her quickly.
Oh no, I
Of course you shall. I want your company. In any event I
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could never manage them both on my own, as well you know.

What shall I wear?
I like your dark blue with lace. It really brings up your eyes.
He blinked when he realised he had said too much. Have you
checked your investments today?
Said blue eyes sparkled with delight that he should even
notice her wardrobe in such minute detail. I have. She
hastened over to the desk to show him her book, with the price
and her tracking on the graph.
I have heard thats as high as its going to go. Would you
like to sell now, or take a gamble that my informant was
wrong?
I trust you. You were correct last week, after all. We shall
sell.
We shall speak to our broker on the way to Sally Lunns.
She had been in and out of Bath several times on her own
for some simple shopping, but had never gone to see that for
which the small town had become so famous. Once they were
at Sally Lunns they were so close to the Pump Room she
suggested they go in.
Dashed waste of time, he grumbled.
You dont mind if I go, do you?
He looked surprised but shook his head. No, I think I can
manage the boys here.
I wont be long.
Take your time. I find there is always some kind-hearted
matron willing to take pity on a father out of his depth with his
children.
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Especially one as handsome as you, she returned pertly.

Of you go, bold wench, before I thwack you on the rump for
teasing me.
You really do look most splendid in that cravat and
waistcoat, though, she said, admiring the silvery silk which
shimmered like his eyes.
I have the most amazingly talented woman in my life.
Everything she touches turns to gold. He gave her a warm
smile.
She stroked his shoulder and stepped back out into the
street. She admired the Abbey for a brief moment before
putting her back to it and hurrying down the street to the Baths.
She wasnt really sure what she was looking for, what had
prompted her to come apart from her promise to Blake that she
would try to convince Michael to go back for treatment.
Had the soaking in the mineral baths really been as useless
as he had given her to believe? Or had he just got stubborn?
She could see how he might not want to be gawped at by
people, manhandled, treated like a sack of bones to be hauled
from one place to the next.
Bath had become a fashionable watering hole for many
invalids, just as Brighton was now becoming for its seawater
thanks to the patronage of the Prince of Wales, and Buxton Spa
in the north thanks to the patronage of the Duke of Devonshire.
Michael had hinted at an aristocratic background. Was it also
possible that he, like she, did not want to be recognised?
But no, he had friends, Blake, Alexander, the other
Rakehells. Friends who had known him for years. He couldnt
be hiding, could he? He was hiding only from himself, and
avoiding company for the same reason. He wanted no ones
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pity.
She went to explore the bathing area, struck by the wall of
heat as she entered. She stood at the edge and looked in at the
greenish water.
She noticed a very large young man being pummelled by a
small woman sitting on the edge of the tiles. She was using her
hands to rub his shoulders and back and legs in a most
determined fashion.
The couple were so striking in terms of both their
appearance and deportment that she could not help staring at
them. They were both dark-haired, with skin which gleamed like
honey and eyes that glinted like gold.
At last the man met her eyes. He was accustomed to being
stared at, not always for the right reasons. He decided the
lovely dark-haired young woman was motivated by genuine
curiosity, not racism, and spoke at last.
I couldnt help but notice you looking at the treatments Ive
been having. Please, allow me to introduce myself. Im Ashoka
Paignton, and this is my mother Eswara.
Your mother? she said in surprise, for the woman looked
far too young to be the parent of such a handsome young giant.
The beautiful dark-haired woman smiled. For my sins.
My, you look far too youthful and delicate.
Thank you, my dear. You have children, do you not?
She blinked in surprise. Yes, two boys in fact. Five and
three. Darren and Gavin.
How fortunate for you. Boys are lovely, and adorable at that
age. Though I wouldnt have minded a sister for this rather
boisterous young chap.
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Yes, Im very blessed. A girl would have been nice, but,

alas, it was not to be. Bryony shrugged.
So is it because of the boys that you come here? she
asked.
No, theyre very well now. They had a bad case of measles,
but the doctor over at Millcote, Dr. Sanderson, helped cure
them.
For your husband then?
No, Im a widow.
Ah, as am I.
No, Im coming for a friend, Bryony explained. He was
badly injured in the war. I know his doctor recommended him
coming here, and he did for a time. Now he refuses. Says
theres no point, that hes tired of the pain and struggle for so
little result.
The golden-eyed lovely woman gave a wan smile. Im sorry
to hear that. Ive been all over England looking for a cure for
Ash, and have found nothing so efficacious as this. This and my
own treatments of him with medicine from my country.
Forgive me for asking, but what is your country? You have a
slight accent, but I cant place it.
Were from India. I had an English father, as did Ash.
India. How fascinating. Would you mind telling me more?
Bryony moved closer, and made as if to sit on the damp tiles
herself.
Mother and son exchanged looks, and each gave the other
an imperceptible nod. The lovely woman was one of the few
English people who did not seem to hold their being different
against them. Eswara had the feeling the girl was going to
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become an important part of their lives in some way, and so

she nodded.
Not at all. But I think we were speaking of your friend
refusing to seek treatment. What is the nature of his
symptoms? I am a healer in my own country, you see, and I
find that sometimes Western medicine does not always have
the best cures for certain diseases.
Hes paralysed from the waist down. He has some feeling,
but not much. His legs cant support his weight.
Bryony, fascinated by the golden-eyed woman and her son,
watched even more closely now as Eswara worked on what
she told her was called massage.
Forgive the question, but is he well in all other respects? His
maleness, for example?
Oh, we dont, I mean, hes not-- She blushed furiously. I
mean, he can, sometimes, he told me, and I have noticed
myself that he can, but it just upsets him so--
I understand. Bowels, urine? she asked in her forthright
manner.
She blushed again. I um-- He has control over them, if thats
what youre asking me.
So quite clearly he has some sensations and signals and is
able to control them. Everything seems to be functioning
normally. Or just about.
Bryony nodded. When you put it like that, well, yes.
But what about his state of mind? Did he tell you how he
was injured?
Exploding shell, hot shrapnel is what he said. The Battle of
Toulouse in April 1814. As for his state of mind, hes plagued by
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nightmares and he has funny turns. He loses awareness of the

things around him for several minutes at a time. He also
constantly washes his hands, looks at them with an appalled
expression. Hes terrified of blood. His appetite is poor, and he
can't eat meat any longer.
Does he abuse laudanum or opiates?
Bryony shook her head. Oh no, not at all. In fact, it might be
part of the problem. Hes always in so much pain. He wont take
anything for it, not even more than a glass of wine at the most
on rare occasions. He dreads the thought of losing control, or
dependent, and so he takes nothing. He thinks its his
punishment on earth for what he did during the war. He avoids
people because he fears contaminating them.
But really, hes a wonderful man. Hes kind and intelligent
and wonderful with my two sons. Then he goes off into this
dark, grim place, and its like he isnt even in the same room.
He doesnt even feel me touch him. His nightmares are the
same. He doesnt even notice me in the bed.
She blushed when she realised what it sounded like. I
mean, I come in when he shouts. I cant just leave him
screaming like a soul in torment. But he never knows Im there,
and I leave as soon as hes calm.
Eswara looked at her son, and said, Thats quite enough for
now, my lad. She signalled for the attendants to help him out
and get him dressed. Ill see you in the Pump Room, darling,
she said, kissing him on the cheek.
I know, ladies talk. Take your time. With a wink for her and
a polite nod to Bryony, he was taken out and wheeled away.
Once they were settled in the Pump Room with some of the
Bath's minteral waters, Eswara asked gently, And are you in
love with him, your Michael?
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Bryony sighed. She couldnt believe she had confessed so

much to a total stranger, but she had no one else in whom to
confide, and it had been so long since she had had a friend of
her very own.
She nodded. I think I am. But I cant be sure. I mean, theres
so much I dont know about him. About men too.
My marriage was terrible. My husband was vicious, cruel at
times. Im afraid of men, even more afraid of myself sometimes.
There are parts of me that long to be loved and held, and parts
of me that say its just too dangerous. Parts of me with secret
desires I hardly dare admit even to myself, she said in a
whisper. When Im in the bed with Michael, you know?
Eswara nodded wisely. Yes, I know.
On the one hand, I know Im safe with him as he is at the
moment. On the other hand, hes a man. As soon as he gets
well he, er, well, he poses a threat.
Youre so sure he can get well? she asked pointedly.
Bryony nodded at once. I believe it. Im not so sure hes
being completely honest with me, or himself. Perhaps not
deliberately lying, if you see what I mean, but more like not
recognising his progress. Not making a conscious effort to take
more strides on his road to recovery. He doesnt really want to
get well, Im sure of it. It goes back to the guilt he feels for
whatever he did during the war."
"I see. What do you think he feels guilty about?"
Bryony took a sip of her sharp-tasting water, thought for a
time, and then said, He was a real career soldier. He enjoyed
it, he said. The killing. Now the thought sickens him. Sometimes
he can barely eat. The smell of meat when the servants have
their meals is enough to set him off at times, completely sicken
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him. I dont know if its healthy to eat only vegetables or not.

Eswara smiled reassuringly. Many of my people are actually
vegetarian. I used to be. Vegetarianism, known in Sanskrit as
Shakahara, was for thousands of years a principle of health and
environmental ethics throughout India. Though Muslim and
Christian colonisation radically undermined and eroded this
ideal, it remains to this day a cardinal ethic of Hindu thought
and practices. A subtle sense of guilt persists among Hindus
who eat meat. But living in England made it difficult for my son
and I to maintain the ideal.
"I see. Well, in any case, I do my best for him, though I feel it
is little enough."
Eswara considered in silence what Bryony had told her. At
length she said, I can see you care about this man very much.
I can help you and your friend, if you in turn will help me.
Help you? How? Bryony asked in surprise. She could
scarcely even help herself or her sons.
I would like someone to help me with Ash, to tend to his
needs here at the baths and also to take care of his treatment.
Massage for example, rubbing the body with your hands and
some oils to heal it as you have seen.
Er, his whole body? Bryony asked, colouring to the roots of
her hair.
Most of it. Ninety percent, shall we say.
My manhood is so large you can say eighty, Mother, Ash
joked as he wheeled up, now dressed handsomely in a dark
suit and crisp white shirt.
He really was the most remarkable-looking young man. She
found herself comparing him to Michael, and wondering what
their own children would look like, if they were ever to have any
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one day.
But first she had to get him to see himself as capable. And
then get him to be capable with her.
Eswara laughed. Stop that, Ash. Youll scare the poor girl
off before weve even begun your treatments.
Oh, I wouldnt know what to do, she protested.
I will show you, and what you learn, you can use on your
Michael. Often one can heal with skill, but Im a great believer in
love as well. If you love him and are patient, all things are
possible. If he wants to walk one day, then he will. If he wishes
to be free of pain there are things we can give him which will
help and not make him dependent or mindless.
Bryony hesitated only a moment. When would you like me
to begin?
Eswara smiled. Tomorrow?
She looked to her son for confirmation and he nodded.
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Chapter Seventeen
So Bryony went to visit Eswara and her son Ashoka in their
fine rooms in the Royal Crescent, and began to learn about
therapeutic massage.
She started with simple things like his back and shoulders,
and even her own hands. And as she worked, she learned
more about India and the fascinating mother and son she was
fast becoming friends with.
So what does the name Ashoka mean? she asked him one
day as she was working her way down his back, and admiring
the room, which was exotically decorated in gold, emerald and
sapphire silks.
Ashoka was a third century B.C. Emperor of India who is
remembered as one of the worlds earliest and most important
social innovators. After uniting the Indian sub-continent, which
we believe was all of southeast Asia by force, Ashoka was
stricken with remorse and renounced violence.
Ashoka then dedicated the rest of his life to the peaceful
promotion of social welfare, economic development, and
tolerance for all religions. He instituted the regions first medical
services, launched a vast well-digging program, and developed
the first comprehensive administrative structure in southern
Asia.
"Ashoka also planted thousands of shade trees along Indias
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hot and dusty roads. The ashoka trees are supposed to be

bridges between heaven and earth the same as the tree or the
rainbow in Celtic thought. In Sanskrit, Ashoka means the
absence of sorrow.
And Eswara? she asked, turning to his mother.
It means God, a particular manifestation of our main Divine
being, who is called Brahma. Its a pure spirit, like the holy
ghost in your religion. The absence of any material desires. It
can be both feminine and masculine, or perhaps one could say
it can be without any gender.
And what is your medicine called again? Ayurvedic?
Eswara nodded, pleased with her pupil's aptitude. Yes.
Thats right. It is not so very different from the medieval
Western theories about each character being influenced by the
humours, such as blood, black bile, yellow bile, and phlegm.
Our humours are different, but the principle of keeping all of the
humours in balance is the same.
For example, one can tell a great deal about the body from
its wastes, and people are said to be too sanguine, or full of
blood, especially from eating too much red meat. There are
also said to be six different chakras in the body, seats of
energy, for example that of the mind and one of the genitals.
They too must be in balance.
Bryony's eyes shone with excitement at all she was learning.
I do wish you would come see
The older woman shook her head. Hes not ready, from
what you tell me. No, I can introduce him to his healing path if I
teach you. You are a good healer, and may even be a great
one, if you let go of the doubts about yourself and accept your
own power.
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My power? she laughed. I have none. Did I tell you how

Michael and I met?
Yes, you did.
Then what possible power could I have had? Homeless,
alone, desperate. I couldnt even help my own boys.
But you did," she pointed out mildly, holding another bottle
of oil under her nostrils so she could sample the aroma of
cloves. "You got through the woods to the storm, and saved
them all. Including Michael.
Saved him? He doesnt need or want saving, she said with
a shake of her head. Or if he does, not from me. Sometimes
he acts as though he cant bear for me to touch him. He just
stiffens and looks away.
People only have power to hurt where there is love. And he
was in a very dark place before you came to him, you and the
boys. Ash too has been in the dark since this illness came.
Youve been his light.
"I dont mean to embarrass either of you by speaking thus
except to say its only natural for two such lovely young people
to find each other sexually attractive. But I think you see each
others spirits even more than you are aware of each others
bodies. And I trust you both. Ash is too young, I think, and any
play or experimentation could have consequences.
Bryony had already lifted her hands from his body, and Ash
turned around to stare at his mother.
I say, this is silly. Youve upset her now, Mother.
Im sorry. I can see the way you look at each other. Youre
curious. Who wouldnt be? But youre destined to be friends,
not lovers.
I have to go, Bryony said, fleeing the room.
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She was sure that Eswara had looked right into her soul.
She had been looking at him longingly, and enjoyed the feel of
his warm, vibrant body.
But she was right. It was a physical attraction only. What she
felt for Michael was so much more complex that she was sure
the simple word love couldnt even begin to do it justice.
Embarrassed after their last meeting, Bryony waited three
days before she returned to the Paigntons house, but in the
end she decided it was best to be honest. She was a
passionate woman, it was true, but she loved Michael, and
wanted to learn from Eswara for his sake, so she could help
him.
So she tamped down her own desires, and spent the rest of
the week learning about how to massage the lower half of his
body.
Much to her shock and consternation, Eswara asked her if
she wanted to learn how to give a lingam massage.
It means wand of light in our language. So much nicer than
the word cock or prick, dont you think?
The colour flew to her face. You never touch him there?
No, I dont, but you may if it will help you.
And it will certainly help me, Ash said with a broad grin.
Oh, no, I couldnt.
We can practice with a banana if you like.
No, really, Michael would never let me I mean, what on
earth would he think?
Ash laughed. Hed probably be incapable of much thought
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or speech, so I wouldnt worry about it. And there is one for

women too, the yoni massage. I will quite happily volunteer to
give you one.
Really, I just cant Bryony gathered her things and flew
from the room once more.
Eswara rolled her eyes in exasperation. Youve done it
again, son. Scared the wits out of the poor thing.
Ash shook his head. Im no so sure. She just needs to get
used to the idea. She loves Michael. She had a shockingly bad
first marriage. She needs to understand that the human bod is
beautiful, and that with trust and love she can have a wonderful
life with him.
His mother looked at him in surprise. You sound like you
know him.
Ash grinned. Not yet, but Im sure we will.
After her last meeting with Ash and Eswara, and the ideas
they had introduced her to, Bryony could think of nothing else
for days. The idea of touching Michael in a sexual way was
often more than she could bear.
And now she was desperately curious about her own body
now just as much as his. From having touched Ash and Eswara
and even her own hands and feet, and the happy affection of
her sons, she was becoming more and more firmly convinced
that perhaps Eswara was right, there was such a thing as the
healing power of touch and love.
Being in bed with Michael night after night, he could sense
her gentle presence, feel her even when he was lost in that
shadowy world of horror which usually set him screaming.
There were some nights now when he didnt have
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nightmares at all if she waited until he was asleep and just got
in the bed beside him and nestled against his shoulder.
She was pleased to see that he also allowed her to do more
and more things for him, like help with his stock and cravat, and
even on a couple of occasions help him into the bed at night,
for example when it was Robin the valets day off.
She was sure she loved him, or as sure as anyone could be
who had not taken the relationship to a more physical stage.
That aspect of it thrilled and frightened her. She had never seen
the gentle side of romance, not even kissing except during the
early days of her whirlwind courtship with her husband. If she
had never even managed a simple kiss without getting tossed
on her back, how on earth was she to manage the rest of it?
The idea of being in control, of the lingam massage, and a
few of the other hints which Eswara had dropped about the
difficulties of she and Michael having a sexual relationship
given his condition filled her with curiosity.
She went back to the Royal Crescent determined to learn
what she needed to know. She didnt have to apply it, she told
herself, but she could arm herself with the knowledge just in
case.
About a week later, when she and Ash had been left alone
for a minute, he said, Id like to ask you a favour, if I may.
Yes?
Would you please kiss me on the mouth?
She had been massaging his chest, and now all the colour
flew to her face and she lifted her hands abruptly.
No, really, I cant. I mean, its not that you arent handsome,
its just, well, its not proper. Youre so young and were just
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friends and
Just one kiss. An experiment. Between friends.
She blushed, but met his lips and allowed the gliding
sensation to take over. It was pleasant, not the disgusting and
brutal act of possession her husband had inflicted upon her.
They relaxed and kissed with parted lips, each peeping their
tongue into the others mouth to taste and explore.
They must have kissed for ten minutes, and at the end of it,
Bryony lifted her head, none the worse for wear, and sighed in
relief.
There, that wasnt so bad, was it?
No, Ash. Thank you. It was very sweet. But it was like
kissing I dont know, a brother, not a husband. Not someone Im
in love with. Im sorry.
To her relief he nodded. I know. Its the same for me. You
dont blame me for being curious though?
No, not at all. I to admit I was curious too. And you were
trying to help me, I know. Showing that it isnt something to be
frightened of.
He smiled. And its always good to compare. So long as no
feelings are hurt, of course. So that when I meet the woman Im
going to marry, I will know it.
She stared at him. Do you really think so? she asked with
interest.
He nodded. Intimacy is a hard thing to achieve. We all set
up so many barriers. The physical is the main one. Touching,
seeing each other, being ashamed, wanting to hide ourselves,
our feelings for fear of being ridiculed, hurt. We fear giving too
much of ourselves away, of it then being turned on us, used as
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a weapon against us. So now that weve got that out of the way
and youve also seen my body, now I get to see yours.
Ash, you could have put it better than that, his mother said
as she came into the room.
Sorry, Mother, Bryony. I merely meant that she has to learn
about not being so self-conscious. Its hard to forge intimacy
with someone if youre shielding yourself all the time.
His mother smiled. Hes right, you know. Even if he may be
forgiven his adolescent curiosity. But I would be happy to give
you a full body massage.
Bryony was embarrassed, but seeing as turn about was fair
play and she had had more than an eyeful of both mother and
son from practising massage on them, she waved aside the silk
robe Eswara offered her, removed all of her clothing, and lay
down on her front.
There followed the most wonderful half-hour of her life, with
the warm oil and both Eswara and Ashs hands working magic
upon her. She had thought it would dredge up all sorts of
sexual feelings, but it was more a soaring sense of well-being.
At the end, when Eswara told her to breathe deeply and just
relax there for a few minutes, she said, That was wonderful.
Especially the back and shoulders. So how can I persuade
Michael to let me do this to him, do you think?
Why not start with the shoulders and being extra nice to
him? Then see if you cant convince him. I shall give you some
oil and you can try it. You can also use talc so youre not so
slippery.
As for your body, your fears about moving to a different,
more intimate relationship with Michael, Im sure that anyone
who loves you will find you gorgeous, even if you had any
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flaws. But you dont. Youre a most comely young lady, even
after having borne two children.
But its your heart which is the most lovely thing about you,
Bryony, if you will forgive an old woman for saying so. Youve
had a hard time, and yet you still care about us and about
Michael enough to want to help. You have the soul of a healer.
Thank you, Eswara. Im going to try, she said, getting up
from the low couch and beginning to put her clothes back on
with easy movements, not even trying to hide herself from
Ashs earnest golden gaze. I dont know if Ill succeed, but I
can only ask, indirectly of course, and see if it works.
And if it does, the two of you can explore so much more.
May I have another massage some time?
Yes, of course. And if you ever want to learn about the
lingam and yoni massage, I have some very useful books on
the Tantra. Ash can tell you what you need to know about
pleasing men, and yourself.
She shot him a shy look. Oh no, were just friends. That kiss
was I would never
I was simply talking from the academic point of view. But
theres nothing wrong with discussing it with my son if you
wanted to pursue the matter further with Michael.
She laughed. Is there such a thing as an academic point of
view on, well, sexuality?
Well, to know something is to study it. Study yourself. Learn
what pleases you and share that with Michael. Learn what
delights him. He may be injured at the moment, but thats not to
say he isnt capable of great pleasure.
" And he may not always be injured like that. Even if he is,
he still needs love and tenderness just like the rest of us. If as
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you say he is physically able so far as you can tell, then he

must be resisting human contact because he feels hes not
deserving of happiness and pleasure. We will need to cure him
of that over time.
She shrugged into her gown with a sigh. I can barely get
near him when he is awake except for business, working on the
dictionary and so on. How am I supposed to
Let him have fun," Eswara suggested. "You English can be
far too serious. Discover what things he enjoys. Learn about his
favourite food and drink. Make every day joyous for him, every
day a birthday or Christmas. Which is coming up in a few
weeks, and an excellent time to make him feel as if hes the
most important person in the world. Which I have a feeling he
is, after your sons, of course."
Bryony nodded eagerly. "You're right. I've been so busy I've
scarecely even thought about the matter."
Your little gifts dont have to be expensive, just thoughtful.
Just to make sure Michael feels cared about. Treasured. As
you would hope to feel treasured yourself one day by someone
who really loved you. Someone who didnt simply marry you for
your money or for your good breeding stock.
Hmm, youre right. Michael was frightened of me being too
obvious and open about my romantic interest, felt threatened,
vulnerable. Doesnt want me to feel used. But if he feels
cherished he will come to accept my feelings. Thank you.
Impulsively she gave her a hug. Thank you both.
She kissed Ash on the cheek and left to do some shopping.
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Chapter Eighteen
Michael was pleased that Bryony seemed to be enjoying the
Baths, but missed her every minute she was out of the house,
and dreaded her coming to him one day to tell him that she had
a new gentleman friend in her life.
She seemed so much more radiant and happy these days,
he was sure she was recovering from her past, and that no man
in his right mind could fail to find her attractive.
Even her posture had changed, from hunched with arms
folded except when she was with the boys, to much more at
ease, happily swinging and even skipping down the hall from
room to room.
When Bryony returned to the house that afternoon laded
down with parcels, he was almost certain he had lost her, for
she looked like a woman who had been well and truly kissed
and loved. He noticed she had not quite done up all of the
fastenings of her gown as if she had dressed hurriedly. He felt
sick with apprehension and jealousy, but told himself there
could be a perfectly logical explanation.
For one thing she mentioned she had gone to the
dressmakers. The cold weather always gave her a high colour
which made her now rosy cheeks and lips glow. Surely if she
had been with a lover, she would not have gone out of her way
to go to the bookstore to pick up the books they needed and gift
him with a copy of a novel he said he had heard was very good.
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There was also a new mixture of tobacco for him to try, and
she showed him the knitting wool she intended to use for a new
muffler and gloves for him. A warm hunter plaid flannel
waistcoat also appeared, along with some toys for the boys
which had them scurrying off into the corner to play.
Supper was the best he had had since he couldnt
remember, a variety of vegetables cooked in all sorts of
interesting spices which her new friend Eswara from India had
been teaching her about.
These potatoes are wonderful. So crispy and golden. And
the green beans, delicious," he praised sincerely.
Have another glass of wine? she suggested with a warm
smile.
He nodded and held out his glass. I think I will.
After supper she played and sang for him. Though he didnt
want the evening to end, as soon as he began to nod off,
soothed by the music, she took him to his room and began to
help him prepare for bed.
You should ring for Robin, he protested at length.
I dont mind, she said untying his cravat and removing his
stock, and for the first time not even bothering to try to avoid
any accidental touches of his bare flesh.
She worked with a businesslike efficiency, unafraid for once.
Nothing was going to happen between them that she didnt
want, she knew that now. And want she did. If only he did.
After a couple of days of letting the Christmas spirit into the
house, she felt confident enough one night when she was
sitting sewing in the drawing room to broach the subject she
had been skirting around ever since her first visit to the baths
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when she had met Ash and Eswara.

I do think now that the weather is getting colder, you might
consider taking some comfort where you can find it. The baths,
for example.
His face fell, and he looked as grimly stern and forbidding as
he had the first time he had ever mentioned what a waste of
time he had found them to be.
Theres no point. Im never going to
Im so convinced youre going to get well. Ill bet anything
you like on it, she said with a lift of her chin.
He gave a broad grin which could almost have been
described as a leer. Anything? he challenged softly.
Anything, she confirmed, feeling no trepidation at the light
she saw sparkling in his unusual eyes.
His spirits high after the wonderful evening they had had,
Michael said in jest, All right. If I go to the Baths, you have to
sleep with me.
She blushed, but nodded without a moments hesitation.
Fine. Though you might want to clarify the word sleep. Why not
say go to bed with you? That can cover a multitude of sins and
possibilities.
She thought with a small sensual shiver about all the nights
she had slept with him, and wanted so much more.
Michael stared at her, flabbergasted at her sudden display of
boldness. Bryony, did you hear what I said?
She met his gaze without flinching. I did. Youre trying to
make me back down. Trying to get me to stop wheedling you
into getting more medical treatment. But it really is for your own
good. And since I have nothing else with which to bargain with-
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He began to wheel away from the table where he had been

cleaning one of his fowling pieces to keep the gun in good
working order. No, this has gone too far. I told you from the
start I didnt want you earning a living on your back.
She raised her brows. Ah, but this isnt me earning a living.
This is me bargaining with you for a reward for something really
difficult and brave that youre going to do.
So going to bed with me is going to be your difficult and
brave task? he said furiously over his shoulder as he headed
for his room.
She remained calm in the face of his anger, following along
behind him closely. No, not at all. Lets just say its a carrot to
wave in front of your nose. I have a feeling it might prove to be
a reward for me as well. You really are a most stunningly
handsome man, and I think
He stopped short so quickly she nearly crashed into the back
of the chair. A man with no legs. A man who can barely rise to
the occasion, he hissed.
A man with two legs which dont work at the moment, but
never will if you dont try to heal them. Nor will anything else if
you just give up.
Damn it, Bryony, how dare you! he exploded, his breath
coming in great gasps, his ribs feeling as though they would
burst.
She shrugged, and began to push him the rest of the way
into his chamber. Once there, she shut the door. When she was
sure they could not be overheard, she came around to face
him, perching on the edge of the bed.
Ive told you, there are lots of ways to make love. You might
actually find you like some of them. She licked her lips
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lingeringly, and put her index finger in her mouth to suck it.
He stared. No, surely she couldnt meanIm not going to debauch you, and thats final! Youre my
housekeeper and secretary, nothing more. A respectable
widow, the mother of two fine young boys. Im not going to
She fluttered her lashes at him alluringly. You dont have to
debauch me. You just told me you couldnt anyway. So unless
you find me so completely unappealing that you couldnt bear to
be touched or kissed by me-
No, it isnt that! he said quickly. He flushed to the roots of
his hair as he realised how he had betrayed himself, his
feelings for her. I just dont want your pity.
Do you not think I could enjoy it too? She made so bold
now as to sit in his lap. Just feeling your arms around me,
cuddling? Isnt that worth something, even if it isnt the
tempestuous tenderness you want it to be?
Well, when you put it like that- he sighed.
She put her head on his shoulder. So we make a deal, then.
One visit to the Baths, one night in your bed. But you say when
you want to bathe, and when you want me in your bed.
Now? he requested, with a sharp look.
She grinned and shook her head. No. You dont get paid on
account. Bath, then bed, not the other way around.
You dont trust me? he rasped.
All men are liars, she said with a toss of her head.
Im not, he said indignantly.
I know. But youre still not to be trusted. Youll do anything
to avoid getting well, wont you? Wont you? she demanded,
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when he would not look at her.

She rested her hand on his finely chiselled cheek. I believe
its because if you do get well, everyone is going to start
expecting things from you once more. Being an aristocrat has a
great number of responsibilities, and you just want to be left
alone. I can understand that. But the life youre living now is
only one tiny fragment of the life you could have.
He was sorely tempted by Bryonys lush lips and ripe body.
But she was too young, gorgeous, and far too attractive. He
had seen the way men looked at her. To even try to possess
such a beauty would be like attempting to rein in the tides.
He placed his hands around her waist, and for a moment
she thought she had convinced him.
With every once of willpower he possessed, he lifted her
from his lap and shook his head.
Im sorry. Flattered though I am at your exceedingly
generous and noble offer, he declared, trying to keep the bitter
sarcasm from his voice, Im afraid I must respectfully decline. I
dont agree to your bargain.
She stepped away from the chair and headed for the door.
Fine. If you want to stay in that chair and feel sorry for
yourself for the rest of your life, who am I to stop you? But if the
solitude youre so desperately clinging to ever starts to get too
dull and lonely, just let me know.
With one last long sultry look, Bryony left him.
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Chapter Nineteen
After her astounding proposal regarding her incredible
bargain the evening before, Michael half-expected Bryony to be
curt or embarrassed in his presence the next morning.
Yet when he saw her at the breakfast table the next morning,
looking temptinglly lovely in a deep blue gown which matched
her eyes, it was as if she had never had the discussion with
him. The only thing that had changed was that his valet Robin
came in to get him ready for bed that night.
Throughout the days that followed, she remained unfailingly
cheerful and polite, did all her duties without a murmur, and
catered to his every whim without an ounce of surliness.
He should have known that Bryony was capable of far more
subtlety. Her revenge was to be a great deal more insidious
than a temper tantrum or the sulks.
She pampered him for three days with all of his favourite
meals, songs at the pianoforte and games with the boys. She
was in and out of his room at all hours of the day and night
consulting with him about his clothes, portfolio,
correspondence, and she sat and read to him for hours when
he couldnt fall asleep.
She did not go out at all, but was always there with him,
seemingly willing to cater to his every whim. She even
produced more of the little presents which she had planned to
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keep in reserve for Christmas in order to make him feel

completely indulged.
At the end of three days Michael thought he was the
happiest man alive considering what had happened to him.
Never had he been able to secure so much undivided attention
from any woman. He began to admit to himself that he could
see now for the first time why men wanted to marry. To have a
woman as affectionate and devoted as Bryony in their life on a
permanent basis, and two such sons, well, it was most certainly
an arrangement worth coming home to.
Bryony had been subtle in other ways too, touching him,
stroking his shoulder, brushing up against him, wearing slightly
more perfume, dressing her hair more attractively and with a
greater variety of styles than ever before.
She never gainsaid him in anything, elicited his opinion on
everything, and generally made him feel the centre of her
universe.
She noticed the gradual easing of his defences, the fact that
he no longer flinched or pulled away from her touch, and in fact
almost seemed to lean into it.
Once he even took her hand, and another night he pulled
her tightly to him and they sleeped curled intimately together.
During the nights she was quite bold, stroking his shoulders
and neck, his chest and arm, sometimes even his face. He
stirred and smiled at her liberties, but never woke.
On the fourth day she delivered her coup de grace. Early
that morning, long before Michael was up and out of his room,
she told the boys that she was going to take Michael up on his
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offer and let them all have a room each in the house. She and
the servants relocated their possession to the upstairs suite.
She immediately began to transform it into a warm and
welcoming haven as she had done their downstairs room.
Of course the master bedchamber was huge and really far
too large for one, so she reserved it as a drawing room for the
whole family, while she took the peach chamber and the boys
went into the nursery and small store room, which she had
fitted out into a proper bedroom for five year old Darren.
The rooms were spacious, but on the upper floor. There
would be no possibility for Michael to see her unless he made a
conscious effort to regain the use of his legs.
The drawing room, as it became, had a large bay window
which deserved to become the central feature of the
commodious chamber. Once she had moved the four-poster
bed to one side of the room and screened it off, and relocated
the dresser, it did not look like a bed chamber at all.
Instead she turned it into a grand office, situating her desk in
the center of the window with all of the files and papers she had
been working on flanking one side, a comfortable arm chair the
other. Or enough space for Michaels chair, she thought with a
grin. It had a great deal of light and a wonderful view, and she
felt instantly at home.
The children adored it, running up and down on the
Aubusson carpet and having mock battles and horse races up
and down while she worked on transforming the other three
rooms.
She also took Michael at his word and sent Simms into town
to the employment exchange to hire a pair of the local girls to
come help look after the boys during the day and assist in
keeping the whole house much more clean and neat.
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By the time Michael emerged from his room freshly bathed

and looking more handsome than Bryony had ever seen him,
having taken great pains with his appearance, he could sense
something had altered radically.
Now she skirted past him, did not say a word more than
good morning, and did not join him for breakfast as had always
been her wont.
He wondered at the study looking so denuded of books and
papers, did not see her at dinner, and when he sent for her was
told she was out. Finally at supper he caught up with her.
Im sorry, she said breathlessly, returning from a visit to
Ash and Eswara in which she had told them all about her move
to her new room, and been showered with presents and spices
for all the recipes Eswara had given her. All sorts of things to
do as a result of my move.
His heart went cold. What do you mean, youve moved?
It seems a shame to let the rooms upstairs lie empty and
musty from disuse. So the boys and I have made them into a
snug set of apartments for the three of us to keep out of your
way.
Out of my way? he repeated blankly, wondering why his
chest felt as though it were being constricted by an iron band. I
dont understand. Youve never been in my way. I The
boys
He frowned. A creeping feeling of dread came over him that
Bryony was removing herself from him because he had done
something terrible. That she feared him that she did not want
the children to have anything more to do with him than they had
to.
He tried to recall anything that he had done or said amiss,
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but it was so hard when he knew he lost all control when he

had those funny turns of his, and had no recollection of what
took place during them. He could not recall the last time he had
had one. But then he never remembered much when he did.
Just what I said, Bryony replied in a mild tone, seeing his
fear and uncertainty, but not acknowledging it. I have a great
deal of work, and can spread out up there. The room with the
bay window is lovely. So light and airy. And such a view of the
Abbey. Its a privilege to work there.
"The boys can be with me all the time, or within calling
distance in their rooms. You can have a bit more privacy. After
all, youre a bachelor. Its not beyond the realm of possibility
that youll want some female companionship and--
Oh, no, I cant believe you are trying to, what, matchmake
for me? he growled.
She shook her head quickly. Not at all. But as you have
pointed out recently, Im only your housekeeper and secretary.
As such there are certain things which are and are not suitable
between us. Such as us going in and out of each others
bedrooms at all hours of the day and night.
I dont see anything wrong with it myself. I am no prude. But
you have lectured me upon the need for propriety in all of our
relations. I have thought about it, and I find for the sake of the
children that youre correct. They ought not to share with me, or
each other if they do not have to. Everyone needs a little room
of ones own.
But still, he grumbled, though for the life of him he couldnt
think of a single logical reason to object. Only a great number of
illogical ones he would be a fool to ever tell her.
She stared at him, her dark blue eyes resting upon him,
looking for any clue as to the nature of his true feelings. I didnt
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think you would mind so much. After all, you told me to use the
rooms in the first place.
And who are those girls here in the house? he asked with
some irritation.
They shall function as both maids and nannies to help me
with the boys, whilst I perform my duties. Since our little
shopping and tea excursions to Bath have evidently been very
arduous for you, its just as well if I simply go myself or with one
of the other servants.
He scowled even more furiously. Arduous? I didnt say they
were arduous.
Im sorry. My mistake. But you will own its difficult getting
up and down the steps of the carriage. Besides, its not a
productive use of your time if you have business to attend to
here. I can get you anything you need.
And when youre not here? Because you are out on your
excursions? Or when I need you here in the house? What shall
I do without you? he said almost petulantly.
Just ring. Unless of course your bell isnt working. You dont
use it very much, do you? In which case I shall have it mended.
One of the servants can come to fetch me.
A rather Baroque arrangement, is it not? Ringing the
servant to get you? he complained.
Yes, but think of the efficiency of having so much space for
our great work, she said in her most reasonable tone.
You were efficient before, he said in a tone reminiscent of a
lion about to voice his displeasure.
But I shall be even more so now. Would you like to see
Ah, no, I suppose it would not be worth the trouble to have the
servants bring you all the way upstairs.
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No, certainly not, he snapped.

Seeing her eyes widen, he modified his tone. If you tell me it
is more efficient I shall have to believe you.
He sighed. He had no idea what he had done to offend, but
there was nothing he could do to make amends, not without
telling Bryony how he really felt. That he adored her, that every
moment he spent in her company just made him more in love
with her than ever.
He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and led her
into supper.
But now even her conversation changed, losing the intimacy
he had come to expect. On the rare occasions when she did
see him she spoke about the dictionary.
Any time he asked a personal question about her or the
boys, she would answer as briefly as possible and change the
subject. The boys were as warm and loving as ever, but that
only made things worse.
Worst of all were the nights, however, for unbeknownst to
him, she returned to her old bed chamber just in case he really
needed her, but did not sleep by his side. By the end of a
hellish week for Michael, all of the nightmares were back with
terrifying force. He was full of pain and headaches, and almost
at his wits end thinking he was going into some sort of rapid
decline.
Perhaps you should send for Blake? she said one morning
when he listlessly picked at his eggs and managed a bite of
toast only after much coaxing during the otherwise silent meal.
No, its all right, he sighed, and turned his face away to
look at some of the papers they had been working on so she
would not see the tears in his eyes.
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Bryony did see them and was so moved, she was almost
ready to relent, he looked so miserable and ill, but she told
herself he would never get well if she wasnt firm now.
It didnt take Michael long to succumb to her cleverly
manipulative campaign. At the end of the worst ten days of his
life since he had first been injured, he said gruffly at supper,
Ive changed my mind. About your bargain, I mean.
She coloured up, but remained silent, and waited for him to
continue.
His eyes widened as he saw the spark in her eyes. I mean,
oh Lord No, no, I meant that I would go to the Baths with you,
and one of the servants. You can read to me, we can conduct
business, do our work there whilst I soak. You can sew and
mend just as easily sitting with me there as here. It might help.
And its not as if I have so many other pressing social
engagements or other things to do with my time.
She restrained her smile of triumph. You wont regret this.
He sighed raggedly. I think I already do.
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Chapter Twenty
Thus they began to go to the Baths every morning until
noon. Bryony enjoyed the time she spent with Michael, for she
did not always confine their conversations to business, but got
to learn more about him. As with most men, who generally
loved to talk about themselves, having a willing ear eroded
Michaels taciturnity.
She listened carefully, always on the alert in case she had to
steer the topic so it did not touch upon the war. But generally he
was a fascinating man, with many similar tastes in music, art
and literature to her own. She loved their increasing intimacy of
mind and spirit.
Soon Ash and Eswara joined them each morning, changing
their schedule to accommodate theirs. It was nice having
company to visit with, he was willing to concede after the first
week.
But Michael had to admit he liked it best when he had
Bryony all to himself. He was glad she had friends, even if they
were so unusual. He found them stimulating to be with, even if
a bit threatening.
He knew it was silly to be jealous of a fifteen-year old boy,
but he grew rather uncomfortable with the way that Ash always
looked so admiringly at Bryony and paid her all sorts of lavish
compliments. He certainly was a chap who was never at a loss
for words.
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But then Bryonys beauty was something which was worth

waxing lyrical over. Now that she had filled out and lost her
unnatural pallor and had made some new gowns for herself,
she was easily the most exquisite woman hed ever seen, in the
Ton or out of it.
Every day she wore a new hairstyle, and every day a change
of gown, to which she had added some special eye-catching
feature or trim. He knew his allowance was generous, but not
vast, and he knew also that she spent most of it on the boys.
Still, she managed to look incredibly well, and as he
discovered when he insisted upon going shopping with her on
Christmas Eve, she was a prodigious haggler, getting the best
price for everything to make all of her funds entrusted to her
care go that much further. Such a rare combination of
intelligence, creativity, and business sense made him fall in
love with her even more than her beauty.
It was a novelty for him, he who had been swayed by so
many pretty faces. He almost resented the time he had wasted
with pretty but simpering women in the past. He realised now
he had dissipated his energies, and more importantly, he knew
he had been false and insincere. He was certain that she did
not have an untruthful bone in her body, and longed to be
worthy of her.
Christmas passed with a mountain of presents, fine food, fun
games with the boys, and Michael convinced that the only thing
he could ever possibly hope for was a miracle: that he would
one day walk again.
Ashs story, the things he had learned about Eswaras
treatments, all encouraged him to hope. It wasnt long too until
he discovered that Eswara had been teaching Bryony. She had
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not been seeing a lover or out enjoying herself and shopping.

She had been learning Indian medicine.
At the end of a fortnight at the Baths, as they were traveling
back home in the carriage, he cleared his throat and asked, I
wanted to speak with you about your allowance, my dear.
Yes?
Is it enough?
Yes, of course. Why do you ask?
He shrugged. I just wondered. I didnt want you or the boys
to lack for anything.
No, not at all. Were fine. I mean, Ill have to buy Darren
some new shoes, but his old pair will do for Gavin.
In his experience it was rare for any woman to not take more
money or trinkets if offered. And you, Bryony? What about
you?
What do you mean?
Do you have everything you could possibly want?
You gave me some lovely presents at Christmas, she said
cautiously. The lace and
I meant generally.
Materially, yes of course. Personally, I cant complain. I
have some lovely friends and I feel happy and secure here.
But? he prompted.
She sighed. But theres no one special in my life. I think Im
a bit young to have given up entirely on being paid court to,
married again. One day.
I see, he said, his tone curt.
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You asked me to be honest.

He nodded. Oh, I understand. Believe me. You will let me
know if, well, you make plans, if you meet someone? he
asked, inwardly seething.
So I can hire someone else if- he added hastily when she
saw her looking at him with an odd expression in her eyes.
I understand. Of course. You would be the first to know. Ive
been so grateful for everything youve done for us all.
He heaved a sigh. It must be dreadfully dull for you. No
balls, parties.
Dont be silly, she said promptly. Its not something I ever
think of. I dont miss them in the least.
He looked at her thoughtfully for a time. Thomas is having a
ball at the end of the month at the townhouse. I should be most
pleased to accompany you.
She shook her head. No, really. I wouldnt like you to be
bored.
He gauged her reaction again, and thought she was telling
the truth, that she really did not want to go. Well, if youre
sure.
No, really, thank you. Its not possible for me.
Why ever not?
She raised her brows in surprise. Its hardly fitting. I am after
all only a servant, a paid companion. Its not appropriate for you
to take me out to any social occasions.
Michael grimaced as though he had tasted something foul.
Youre my housekeeper, Bryony. Please do no use the phrase
paid companion. It bring up all sorts of unpleasant
connotations.
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She blushed. Oh, quite. Just so. I do apologise.

He lapsed into silence, though he kept recalling her words
for days afterwards, and wondered why they rankled so much.
Chapter Twenty-one
At the end of a month of visiting the baths, Bryony was sure
that Michael was ready for the next step in his course of
treatment. Eswara had taught her a great deal, and not only
about massage and healing.
Some in-depth conversations about male anatomy and what
pleased men best, as well as some explorations of her own
body, were enough to convince her that she was prepared to
run the risk of moving her relations with Michael forward to
something far more intimate.
For that she needed Michael receptive to the possibility. He
had never mentioned her bargain again. But the way he looked
at her sometimes when he thought she didnt see was enough
to convince her that the attraction had always been there, and
she prayed it always would be.
She was sure it would be for her, for her heart sped up every
time she laid eyes on him, and the sound of his voice was
enough to make her melt.
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She had taken to sleeping back in his bed at night, and his
terrible dreams had once more vanished, leaving him much
better rested and calm again.
She was sure from the way he had begun to touch her that it
was only a matter of time before he woke up one night and
found her there in his bed, and she was determined not to beat
a hasty retreat when he did.
One clear, crisp snow-covered January day when they were
finishing a section of the dictionary, he looked up at her.
What is it, my dear? he asked, noticing her staring at him.
There is one thing. I was wondering what is to be your
reward now that youve been so diligent about going to the
Baths?
Oh, I dont need-- he said, blushing at the reminder of her
proposed bargain. Not that he ever needed reminding.
Sometimes he couldnt think of anything else but her proposal.
How about a day off from work, and a picnic?
He stared out the window. But the weather is so
It can be an indoor one. Ill arrange everything. Please say
youll come.
When she gave him one of her magical smiles, he could
deny her nothing. All right, I shall.
Friday?
He nodded I shall look forward to it.
She prepared a feast fit for an Indian king thanks to Ash and
Eswara, and arranged all sorts of games, from draughts to
chess, to croquet with paper hoops, mallets and balls, to
archery with a straw butt, and a toy bow and arrows tipped with
different colours of vegetable dye to show where they hit the
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target.
The one problem was getting Michael up the stairs. Bryony
again determined she would consult with a master carpenter
about things she could do to make his life easier. Ash could
help, she was sure of it, even if Michael were not willing to
experiment with labour-saving devices to get him in and out of
the tub and up and down the stairs, or even in and out of the
carriage or onto a horse.
At last Michael got up with the help of Simms, Robin, and
two of the footmen, in a plain wooden chair which they had
lashed poles to. Bryony kept out of the way so he would not feel
shamed. Only when he was safely in his wheelchair and the
servants had withdrawn did she emerge from her room and
welcome him.
He stared at the transformation she had wrought. The rooms
were exquisite, with touches of the exotic everywhere, silk
throws, pillows, and a wonderful spicy scent.
Then he saw the pictures on the wall and stiffened. Where
on earth did those come from? he gasped.
Ash copied them for me out of a book as a sort of housewarming present.
But theyre, theyre naked! And dancing. Oh, Lord, not even
dancing. Bryony! What are you thinking of? he exclaimed,
completely and almost painfully aroused by the erotic Indian art.
She shrugged. Ive learnt the body isnt something to be
terrified of after all. That not everyone wants to be brutal and
cruel. That lovemaking doesnt have to be all one-sided. That it
can be a sacred experience for two people to share when they
care a great deal about each other. I like them, so theyre
staying.
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He did his best to enjoy the picnic, but found his eyes
straying back to the pictures every so often. He kept turning
over in his mind what she had said about lovemaking as a
sacred experience.
He began thinking of Bryony with her hair billowing down,
clad in only a silk robe, and could scarcely breathe.
The picnic was meant to be fun, but there was a sensual
undertone to it as she sat at his feet and brushed his leg every
so often, reminding him of the first night they had been together
at Blakes when she had slept curved against his leg.
All those weeks ago he had been in love with her, and the
feeling had only grown over time.
And she was still there with him... And seemed happy.
He laughed as they played croquet and he taught the boys
archery. She had spread a sheet down on the floor under the
butt in case of the dye splattering, and pointed to each hit.
Your turn now, Bryony.
Oh, no, I couldnt, she protested with a shy smile.
Here, you can be blue. Hold it like so
She perched in his lap and he froze. I dont think I want to
play any more, she whispered, her lips only inches from his
own.
Bryony...
The boys scurried around playing croquet like demented
beetles. He let her stay in his lap for a time longer, though he
made no move to make the contact more intimate.
I dont care what you say, Michael. I know youre getting
better every day. Maybe you wont get back everything you
once had. But you definitely wont if you give up for fear of
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disappointment.
I dont give up, and I dont fear anything, he snarled, trying
to remove her arms from around his neck.
She fixed him with her deep blue eyes, daring to defy him
once more. Youre a liar, Michael. Youre the most fearful
person Ive ever met.
Ha! You can say that to me after you ran away from your
family? he sniped.
She shrugged. I ran because theyre dangerous. A very real
threat to my sons. You ran because you think youre
dangerous. But I dont believe you are. Even if you were, you
cant run from yourself. Whos to say what any one of us can be
capable of? I would like to think I was capable of Christian
forgiveness. But I swear I would kill my brother-in-law or his
mother with my bare hands if they so much as laid a finger on
my childs head.
I believe it. Youre a lioness when roused to protect those
you care about.
You havent seen me really roused. Or aroused, she added
with a warm smile.
His sucked-in breath told her she had hit her mark.
Stop that right now. I dont think you should be saying things
like that to me. Not unless youre only doing it because you
know Im no threat to you. In which case its cruel.
She gave him a sultry smile. Actually, I was rather hoping
you might be feeling, well, warm. She leaned over to plant a
kiss on his cheek. If I cant offer you an incentive for getting
better, I dont know who can.
But were only supposed to be friends, he whispered, awed
by her nearness.
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Friends can hug and kiss, cant they? she murmured,

stroking his cheek.
He swallowed hard. In my experience the only hugging and
kissing I ever did was usually a prelude to something much
more.
Well, why dont we just relax and see where it takes us?
He stared at her in horror. Good God, Bryony. What sort of
woman are you?
She shrugged, not in the least ashamed. The kind who
thinks being honest is a virtue. Youre a wonderful-looking man.
Ive got to see you partially bare on a regular basis for weeks
now. I would have to be as dumb as a stone not to be tempted
by your magnificence.
Oh, go away, Bryony! he exclaimed impatiently. Youre
just making a mockery of me. Because Im no longer a man.
He tried to shrug her off, but she stroked his cheek, gazing
deeply into his eyes. Does this feel like a mockery? She
rubbed his shoulders, his back, digging in gently with her
fingers as Eswara had show her.
She got results almost instantly.
What on earth-
My friend Eswara has been showing me the therapeutic
massage she does on her son. He says its done wonders for
his mobility. I think we should try.
I dont see how-
You have nothing to lose, do you?
You have better things to do with your time, he said curtly.
A half an hour, thats all Im asking, Michael. Let me try,
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please?
He nodded curtly. It does feel rather good, he admitted
grudgingly as her fingers continued to ripple over him.
He was almost sorry when it ended. The boys were sleepy
and needed to be put to bed, and she had to summon the
servants to help clean up the remains of the picnic.
There now, that wasnt so bad, was it?
No, it was fun. Thank you for a lovely day.
If you want another massage again, all you have to do is
ask.
After another week of considering all Bryony had said, all
she seemed to be offering, Michael did ask. He told himself
there was no harm, that he was not compromising her virtue.
The feel of her hands on his fevered body gave him such bliss.
Soon it became part of their nightly ritual, though he refused to
let her see him bare, insisting she had to rub him through his
shirt.
But on another night she heated some oil, and worked her
hands down under his collar. They felt like heaven on his bare
flesh. Gradually she was able to rub her way further down his
back. Though he unbuttoned it, he refused to take off his shirt
completely in front of her.
The fifth night he finally gave in and admitted it was easier
without the shirt. By the tenth night she had actually got him to
loosen the waist of his trousers.
By the end of a fortnight she had him in the bed and was
slipping her hands onto his buttocks underneath the fabric, him
firmly holding one edge in an attempt to ensure she was not
peeking at anything she shouldnt. He found it incredibly
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stimulating, so much so that he had to think all sorts of

mundane thoughts to try to hold his passion in check.
But Bryony knew what he was feeling, and about three
weeks after the massaging had begun, she gave him a potion
that Eswara had given her, a concoction of cinnamon, mace,
cloves, nutmeg and lavender which she had said would send
the blood rushing through all parts of his anatomy. All.
She had given it to Michael in some plain tea with milk, and
as he finished the cup and proclaimed it very tasty, if somewhat
unusual, he gasped, wide-eyed.
Michael, what is it? Are you all right?
Im Oh, Lord, I think the massage has given me some
new sensation. Completely new ones. Heavens above, Ive
never felt like this before.
Good or bad? she asked, marvelling at the vast change in
him.
Good. Very good. Excellent, in fact. He closed his eyes and
groaned.
She stopped for a moment, until he panted, No, dont stop.
Its wonderful. She worked her hands down his back, and
asked him, Do you feel all right? Do you want to lie down
now?
Oh, yes, he sighed.
She got him into the bed and rubbed him down vigorously.
He gained his release as she rubbed the small of his back, his
erection thrusting into the mattress so hard he thought he was
going to be lifted off it. But what to do about Bryony? She was
there right in the room with him. She was going to notice.
Damnation, this was as bad if not worse than the time she
had been in his lap at Blakes. The blood pounded through his
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body so compellingly he was sure he was even incapable of the

power of speech.
Bryony did notice, but knew this was supposed to happen
and said nothing. It was all part of her attempt to entice him into
longing for a normal life once more. Though Bryony thought it
would kill her if it was not with her, she loved him enough to
want him to be happy and as whole a person as possible given
all the war had done to him.
Michael was so preoccupied with what was occurring at the
front of him that he did not even notice her slipping the fabric
down over his hips to uncover him fully. As she had guessed,
he was magnificent. He must have been a fine horseman in his
day.
She smoothed her hands down over his thighs. It was only
when she got as far as his knees that he came to his senses
and began to protest.
I say, Bryony, I cant believe What on earth did you put in
that tea?
I told you, cinnamon and a few other spices I would make
biscuits with. Was it disgusting? Are you sick to your stomach?
she asked worriedly.
More like completely overwhelmed, he rasped. But youve
now seen me almost totally naked. How could you! This isnt
what I hired you for-
As long as Im this far down I might as well get to your feet,
she said in a practical tone, stripping the trousers and drawers
right off his legs.
He gritted his teeth and sighed.
Then he realized he he had been able to feel her hands.
Only vaguely, but the sensation had been there. He certainly
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hadnt been able to see them touching him, for he was still lying
flat on his face.
I can feel that! he said in surprise. Do it again. Harder.
Harder still. Now softer.
She obeyed his instructions, delighted with the change in
him. She could hear the relief, the near-joy in his voice.
I can feel you. Oh, God, a few other things as well, he
gasped once more, wave after wave of sensation flooding his
loins as she massaged his buttocks powerfully with both hands.
Thank you, he panted. You have no idea what this meant
to me, he said into the pillow numbly.
So long as youre not in pain, dearest, thats the main thing.
You touch me, Bryony and all I feel is the most acute
pleasure I ever have in my life, he confessed, before he fell
into a dreamless slumber.
Bryony rolled him over and feasted her eyes on him. She
had been right. Magnificent. He stirred and sighed contentedly
as she began to clean him and adjust the bedclothes. She
stroked his chest with the hot oil, working her way ever lower.
He stirred and almost purred.
When she was sure he was deeply asleep, she gave a little
smile of her own at his splendour and decided to put into
hands-on practice everything Eswara had taught her about
lingam massage.
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Chapter Twenty-two
Michael woke with a start to find himself completely naked in
the bed, the most incredible sense of well-being flooding
through him like a tide of pure pleasure. He was covered by a
single sheet draped over him. He could smell the lovely almond
oil all over his body, softening his skin. He glanced down and
saw his erection tenting the sheet, and blushed.
Bryony had to have been the one who had stripped him,
covered him in the oil. Cleaned him, he thought with a groan as
he touched himself and found only a light feeling of oil. Not
massaged him there as well, surely? A few more exploratory
touches convinced him she had, and a great deal more
besides. Surely they hadnt...
But no, he would have remembered, would have felt some
sign. How on earth...
Eswara, of course, but surely not Ash too! The fierce
jealousy burned within him one again. Was that why she had
been looking so pleased with herself before Christmas? Was
she in love with the young pup, and feeling sorry for him?
But when he saw her next, he did not dare speak of his
suspicions, for he feared questioning her would drag all that
was shadowy and mysterious between them into the cold light
of day.
He had begun to cherish the marvelous intimacy of the
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longer and longer massage sessions in which he could just lay

with his mind empty and give himself up to the pure pleasure.
She smiled at him as he entered the study. Was it one of
pity, or lasciviousness?
Good morning. Did you sleep well?
Exceptionally, Bryony. Thank you.
Youre welcome.
She bent her head back to her proof-reading and that was
the end of the matter. He stared at her, wondering how she
could be so calm when it was apparent she had been fiddling
with his cod and cullions.
Perhaps she thought he didnt know. He had been asleep
after all. Well, in that case, he wouldn't dream of mentioning it
to her.
He wheeled out of the room as the blush flooded his
features, and wondered if she had any more of that wonderful
tea for him tonight.
Bryony was surprised she could appear so calm in front of
him after what she had done, but what she was planning to do
tonight was even more bold. She had felt so fiercely aroused
last night after shed explored him and given him his release
that shed ended up exploring herself even more intimately than
ever before. She felt poised on the edge of a whole new world
which only she and Michael could share.
A trip to see Ash and get a massage of her own, and a long
hot bath and a loose robe in sapphire silk which Eswara had
given her, set the mood as she headed to his room that evening
once the boys were safely in bed.
Annie the maid would be watching over them, with
instructions to keep an eye on them until noon tomorrow. The
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girl had given her a knowing smile and told her to enjoy herself.
Bryony went down to Michaels room and took extra care
with his massage that evening, making it even more slow and
sensual than was her wont. After starting him in the chair whilst
he sipped more of the wonderful tea, she got him into the bed.
With only an occasional token protest she gradually got all of
his clothes off and worked her way right down to his toes.
Now that weve done your whole back, were going to do
your front.
Oh, no, please, Bryony, he gasped.
She handed him a towel. Im going to roll you over slowly.
Hold this to yourself if it makes you feel better.
He clutched it to his loins as she kept her head raised and
eyes averted so as to give him some sense of modesty. She
started at his chest and went down to his abdomen, then up his
legs from his ankles to his thighs.
There was no mistaking the bulge under the towel, but he
was more relieved to see that she did not appear to view what
he assumed to be his many scars and tattoos with anything
resembling horror.
The sizzling sensation in his loins from the tea and her
ministrations were even better than the night before, for he was
fully awake and able to concentrate on the beauty of what her
hands were doing to them now that he was not so exhausted
from having climaxed.
Bryony exulted in her own power as a woman to love and
treasure him. Starting a second time with his scalp, she let her
hands travel along him again even more lightly and sensually,
before at last slipping under the cloth to come to rest on his
throbbing flesh.
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Michaels eyes flew open and he snatched at her wrist,

sorely tempted, but petrified of his own reaction. Of ruining
everything he had built between them, everything he had come
to love about his life. This is madness. You cant possibly-
I do. I do want you, Michael, she protested, her voice
trembling with urgent need. Youve been kind, generous,
tender with me. Tender with the children. Why should I not feel
attracted to you? Desire you?
Michael gave a snort of self-mocking laughter. You can
have your pick of any eligible and successful man about Town.
How can I ever compete with that?
Bryony stroked his face lovingly. Youre right. There is no
competition. I went for eligible and successful once before, and
look at the disaster which befell me. I was sixteen. That can be
my only excuse. I thought my husband was everything I could
have ever dreamed of in a man, and more. Handsome,
glamorous, rich.
"It just goes to show you what a stupid little fool I was. Vain
and empty-headed. The only true word in that description was
handsome. But even that was in the eye of the beholder. By the
time he died, I came to dread the very sight of his face.
She raised her eyes to his candidly. It wasnt love. It was
infatuation. The product of the idle fantasies of a young girl with
no understanding of the world, or men.
"Ive learned some hard lessons since then. One of them is
that true love exists. In all of the most unlikely places, true, but
it does exist. I know because Ive found it here with you."
"Bryony"
She shook her head. Im not asking you to love me in
return, Michael. Just let me love you. Let me move our
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relationship forward to the final physical one. Weve shared

everything else. Why not that? I need to know. Need to be one
with you. I find I long for you so badly, I can barely stop my
hands from shaking when I touch you. The thought of you
touching me arouses my body so, I can scarcely breathe.
He stared at her, hardly daring to believe her words. No, its
not possible
It is, she whispered, taking his hand in both her own and
caressing the back and palm of it. Ive seen you looking at me.
Responding to my touch. I know youre able. Ive seen it.
Caused it. Ive been waiting for you to, well, caress me more
openly than you have done. Admit your feelings. Choose to
recognise that part of yourself once more. But youve been so
restrained, so fearful.
It isnt proper, he maintained. Youre in my house, under
my protection, an employee, a dependent.
Then marry me. Marry me and make me yours in every
way, she proposed, her head swimming with the enormity of
what she had just dared to say.
Dont you think I want to? Michael bellowed, all his
pretense of indifference at an end at last.
His breath came in huge ragged pants as if he had been
running for miles. Long to? With every ounce of my being? But
I cant! Youre still so young. Youre confusing pity with love.
She gave him a long look and rose from the bed.
His heart sank into his boots. She was leaving him.
But pride refused to allow him to ask her to stay.
She promenaded around the room in a semi-circle, pausing
only long enough to snuff out all the candles in the room except
those by his bedside.
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She had done it often enough before. But the look in her
eyes was so different from anything he had ever seen that for a
moment he was almost frightened. Had he angered or upset
her to such an extent that that she was about to leave him
forever?
Please, dearest, you know Im right. Its for your own good.
You have the boys to think about, and many years ahead of
you to meet the right man. Someone who can make you happy.
A whole man. Not a pathetic cripple haunted by his past.
But you dont have to go, leave this house. I mean, I know I
cant marry you. It would be so unfair to you in every way that it
cant possibly be contemplated. If I were a normal man, of
course I would, Bryony. I would do my best to make you happy.
But as things stand
Her eyes flicked over him appraisingly as she reached the
door.
His heart gave a huge lurch-she was leaving him. He
opened his mouth to do a complete volte-faceto beg her to
stay.
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Chapter Twenty-three
Michael opened his mouth to beg his beloved to stay.
But instead of opening the portal to leave Michael, Bryony
turned the key in the lock, and began to approach the bed once
more.
As she moved with purposeful strides, her hands were
already upon the belt of her sapphire silk robe. She allowed it to
fall open, baring her to the floor. Her full pert breasts jutted up
against the silk, and the shadowy thatch of black curls against
the ivory of her flesh sent shivers through him.
Any other protest Michael had been about to utter withered
on his tongue at the sight of such incredible beauty. He
swallowed convulsively as Bryony took his unresisting hand
and placed it upon her breast.
The nipple immediately sprang into his palm, and Michael
was enthralled at the response. She let his hand rest there for a
moment before she bent one knee and placed it on the bed.
Then she trailed his right hand down over her delicately
curved belly, to her navel. Despite his widening eyes and
quickening breath she slid it down to the curls at the apex of her
thighs.
He tried to pull his hand away, but her heat had already
radiated outwards, almost begging him to touch her. She slid
his hand between her legs and trapped it there gently, stroking
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his wrist and forearm.

Do I really seem confused to you?
He cleared his throat. No, not confused. Aroused.
She smiled alluringly. Most definitely aroused already, just
from me touching you. Being with you. But theres so much
more.
She angled his hand and her body until she was able to slide
onto his first two fingers. She began to shudder as she did, the
powerful inner tremor and pulsating softness telling him all he
needed to know about her longing, her desire for him. She was
so hot and wet he thought he would faint from the excitement of
it all.
And more, she murmured, rotating her hips twice to drive
him even deeper, until his fingers and hand glistened.
In a trance, he lay back upon the pillows as she knelt on the
bed fully, and moved his hand once more. She dragged the
towel back off his bareness. With their fingers entwined she
rubbed her dampness onto his pulsating head.
He sucked in a juddering breath at the contact, and tried to
pull her wrist away. But already she was swinging one leg over
him, her other hand holding his shaft steady.
Please, Bryony, no. What if you regret this, hate me? he
gasped in a near-panic.
He had hoped to make her pause long enough to get control
over the situation, to summon the strength and presence of
mind to roll away from her onto his front.
But Bryony never faltered. She glided onto him silkily, setting
off a shower of sparks which had him gasping and roaring out
his passion in an uncontrollable burst.
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She could feel the power of his orgasm right up through her
womb. She had a fleeting vision of two sons and a daughter
with his incredible eyes. The image made her smile.
As she caressed his chest and the delicate pouch between
his legs, her smile widened even further. He moved his hands
up now to touch her breasts reverently, and he stroked down
her waist and panted, Thank you. It was so wonderful.
Was? Is. She moved to illustrate her point.
His eyes rolled up into his head. His hands upon her bosom
became more restless, and her nipples were almost painful as
they ached for his lips upon them.
Please, she urged, please, kiss me?
The floodgates opened then. With the greatest pleasure,
he murmured huskily.
The kiss was like nothing either of them had never known. It
was honey and roses and chocolate and wine, delectable in
every way, and so addictive that one kiss left them craving ever
more.
Their coming together at last as lovers was all they had
suspected it would be, and far beyond their wildest fantasies.
Michael could have kicked himself for not simply giving in to his
desires without any further struggle the night they had first
touched so long ago. But then, it would never have been like
this. Now there was no fear, regret or hesitation, just pure
delight.
His mouth slanted across hers to deepen the kiss until it
became an act of possession, a declaration of intent. Michaels
hips began to thrust in time with his tongue, until she gasped
into his mouth and her feminine softness began to wring
another incredible climax from deep within him.
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He could feel her pulse beating against his tip, the vibrant life
within her embracing him, encompassing him.
He had engaged in the physical act before. But he was sure
he was a virgin reborn with her arms, for here was love, pure,
selfless, joyous, being bestowed upon him with no thought for
anything other than his needs. He could sense her almost
fighting to hold back her own pleasure to make sure he was
fulfilled.
He ran his hand down her back, scooping her buttocks more
closely to him, while his other slipped between them to rub her
engorged bud.
Already in so deep he felt sure he might never be able to
withdraw, her voluptuous response to the contact drove him in
still further, until they came together as one in a explosion of
passion which almost lifted them off the bed.
She called out his name against his lips, her hands clinging
to his hair and shoulders as her paroxysm trembled through
her.
At last she collapsed onto him, her cheek against his chest,
her breath coming in almost panicked sobs.
Oh, Michael, I never knew. Im sorry. Did I hurt-
No, no, not at all, he soothed, rubbing her back with long
sweeping strokes. What didnt you know, love? he asked a
few moments later, his breath gliding over her face and hair as
he turned his head to look at her.
That it could be so, so powerful. So all consuming. I mean, I
knew there was some pleasure. Id felt it once or twice perhaps
when I was first married. Once or twice by myself since, she
admitted with a blush. But this with you was like
Like what? he prompted softly, when she shook her head,
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completely at a loss.
Like my soul was being torn from me, and fused with yours.
He nodded. Thats it exactly. But it wasnt painful. It was
beautiful. Youre beautiful. I mean, I always knew you were, he
said, tracing the fine bones of her cheek with one finger, but
thats on the outside. Im talking about your inner beauty.
Youre beautiful, Michael. She took his hand and kissed it.
I knew that ever since the night we met. Not to mention from
the massages Ive been giving you. Your skin, your eyes, the
way you make me feel when you touch me.
Still incredulous and mistrustful over her response despite
what they had shared, he would have raised her off his torso
had she not begun to stroke his face and broad chest. Her
fingers were followed by her lips as she began to plant kisses
as light as thistledown all over his flesh.
At his heated groan, she opened her mouth, running her
tongue along the thin trail of silky hair which led to his most
sensitive maleness. She lifted her hips from his, and he almost
wept at the loss of her delicate softness.
But his lids flew open in alarm as he realized what her
intentions were. He made a grab for her forearms to pull her
back up, but it was already too late.
Bryony, no, you cant-
Sush, its all right. My gift to you for all youve given me,
she murmured, suckling him so sweetly he was rock hard again
in an instant.
He pressed back flat upon the mattress as her lips glided
over him, feasting upon him until he was poised on the brink.
No, really, you mustnt-
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Desperately, Michael tried to hold back, but she slipped him

in still further, her lips locked firmly mid-point around his
pulsating shaft as she laved his engorged head with the most
sensual savouring. She revelled in the tang of their lovemaking,
his heady maleness. Her hands cupped his tender flesh, and
she sought out the small indentation below it that Eswara had
told her was a sacred spot guaranteed to give a thousand
delights.
She had found it during her leisured exploration the night
before, and now knew that Eswara had not exaggerated.
Michael was so delighted he was not able to withstand her
an instant longer. His passion echoed around the chamber as
she took all he had to give, and gave herself.
Her fingers and mouth drove him wildly onwards, tears
springing to his eyes. He clutched her silken tresses with one
hand, while the other convulsed in the sheets, wringing them
hard.
At last he quieted, and with one last sultry twitch of her
tongue, she raised herself up to snuggle against his side.
He hugged her to him, but Michael could feel the dreadful
jealousy that burned through him every time he thought of
Damien Dalrymple emerging once more. I didnt think wives
shared that sort of thing--
Share? With you, yes, darling. With him, he made me. Liked
it better than the regular way, he said. Liked to see me on my
knees, submissive, dont you know. Wanted to degrade me.
Have all the fun so he didnt need to share, or bother to try to
make me happy. Made me do it if I was, er, indisposed. After
the babies. That sort of thing. Whenever and wherever he said.
Any kind of intercourse. When we were with each other, of
course. And he wasnt otherwise occupied with the serving
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wenches. So not that often, but often enough to show me who

was master, and who slave.
Michael looked at her in horror. I would never make you-
She put her fingers to his lips. I know. You didnt make me. I
wanted to. She reveled in her own sense of power. She was
no longer a passive recipient of pleasure or pain, but a bringer
of it, an equal partner, and even the one in control.
Because you think you have to? he asked, the bile rising in
his throat.
Not at all. She traced his brows and lashes in a sensual
caress that had him fizzing with passion anew. Because I want
to cherish you. Show you how much you mean to me.
He kissed her long and lingeringly. I already know that. You
would never have come into this bed with me if you didnt. He
shook his head and laughed, though the sound was without
mirth. I cant believe any of this.
What? Are you still doubting my feelings for you? she
asked, sitting up against his chest, hurt apparent in both her
expression and tone.
He stroked her cheeks with both his hands. No, love, not
that. Just the way this has all happened so suddenly. And the
appalling marriage you had to bear.
Bryony shrugged. He was a degenerate, true. But at least
he didnt beat me for no reason all the time the way many
husbands do.
He choked. So youre saying he did beat you? Anger
seared through him so acutely he felt sickened.
Well, sexually, I suppose you could say. Spankings and
rough play if I didnt do as he asked. He said it was a game, but
it left bruises. Loved the hairbrush. Loved playing with my, um,
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bottom, trying to um, you know. Succeeding too. He said pain

was all part of the pleasure, but some days I could barely walk.
Sometimes he would force me, take me hard, degrade me, and
leave me tied up, until one of the servants dared to rescue me.
His look and tone was one of absolute outrage. What sort of
husband-
She shook her head and soothed him, pushing his tousled
hair back from his clouded brow. The kind who didnt
understand what it was to love and respect a woman. The kind
who took pleasure in debasing the wife he only married for her
money.
"He never gave me a choice. He just grabbed and took and I
had to let him for fear of the beatings if I was a naughty girl as
he said. He said it was what whores like me deserved. But I
swear to you, Ive only ever been with him
He shook his head vehemently. Youre not a whore, do you
hear me? Youre not a whore, he hissed. Youre warm and
loving and tender, and entitled to your own happiness and
pleasure, within your body or outside of it.
You certainly never deserved to be treated like some
animal, or harem slave. I admit I enjoy women as much as the
next man, but it has to be mutual. It cant be forced. Or paid for.
Any woman Ive ever been with indicated a mutual interest in
me.
Im sorry Ive not managed to be as chaste as I would have
liked, but Im no philanderer or debaucher of women. One
woman at a time, fidelity while it lasted, even if that wasnt very
long. Ive never seduced innocent girls or committed adultery
intentionally. Some women said their husbands were out of the
picture. If I ever discovered they werent telling the truth, I was
immediately gone for good. Yes, I was lusty in the Army during
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the war. But it was joyous coupling. Fun, not cruel.

She smoothed her palms over his chest. You dont need to
tell me that. I trust you. Im here because I want to be.
He allowed himself a small smile. Well, now, I could hardly
chase after you, could I?
She giggled. Far from it. If anything, I forced you. Im sorry if
you were frightened.
Of you, no. Of myself, certainly. I want to make you happy.
Forced, never. Encouraged, but certainly never forced,
sweetheart. He kissed her, and laid her head back down
against his shoulder.
Are you comfortable? she asked. Im not too heavy?
I wish you were more heavy. I would be sure this was real
and not a dream, the product of my fevered fantasies about you
ever since I laid eyes upon your lovely face and form.
Her eyes twinkled. Ooh, really, fantasies? Do tell.
He blushed profusely and dared not meet her gaze
Now, now, youve seen a couple of mine, she scolded in a
playful tone. The least you can do is share a couple with me.
Anything you want, you have only to ask.
His eyes flashed with angry fire. I dont play harem games.
Now it was her turn to blush. No, I meant if you, well, um,
needed help. Oh, gosh, that makes it sound worse, somehow,
like youre feeble or something. I just meant a different position
in the bed, or if you wanted me to move up the bed to cradle
your head. Or just move the pillows to make you more
comfortable. If you need another blanket or anything.
She had begun to rise from his side amid her confusion. He
took her forearms gently, and stroked them up and down. Im
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sorry. I didnt mean to sound so churlish. Im not insulted. Its

very thoughtful. And the only pillow or blanket I need is you.
She traced his chin and sensual lips with one delicate finger.
Well, if you dont have any fantasies youre willing to share,
darling, I have more have enough for both of us. If youre
willing.
If Im willing? he laughed. Does the sun set in the west?
Good then. I would simply adore it if you would please
suckle my breasts, she said with a shy smile.
I would simply adore suckling them, my love, he said, his
eyes sparkling.
She moved over to the other side of the bed to adjust the
pillows, and he worked himself down in the bed slightly. Rolling
over half way, he wrapped both arms around her and buried his
face in her ample cleavage, nuzzling and licking with delight.
His hard hands kneaded her back and shoulders much the way
she usually ministered to him.
She arched against him, her own mouth opening wetly. She
wriggled and bent her head until she could lave his ear and jaw
line, causing him to shiver against her and draw one aureole
deeply into his mouth.
His right hand stroked down to her bottom to cup it against
him more fully. He forced himself to relax and moved his fingers
to the front of her instead. He began to tease her flesh,
exploring all of her womanly delights with a breathtakingly
leisured thoroughness.
Her caught sob of passion and trembling limbs told him she
was already ascending to her pinnacle of pleasure, on the
edge. Still laving her creamy pink flesh, he lifted his eyes to
observe with pride and urgent desire his effect upon her.
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Her purr of pleasure vibrated through her, tickling his ear.

That is sooo good. How Ive yearned for you.
And I you. But you have me now, all of me. Just relax, let it
wash over you.
Mmm. All of you. What a good idea.
She moved her hips against his hand, but he was not sure
who got the most pleasure. For she spread her leg wide over
his waist, nudging his hand aside, and slid onto him. The tight
unfurling within her squeezed him from tip to base in a rippling
caress which wrung a cry from him so loud he was sure must
have awakened the entire household.
His mouth still buried against her breasts, he clung to her
fervidly, wondering at his uninhibited and uncontrollable
response. He had been with enough women in his time to have
considered himself a man of the world. But nothing had ever
prepared him for the cataclysmic contact with this remarkably
lovely young woman. His friend. Now his lover. Soon to be his
wife
Marry me, he panted against her bosom, when he could
finally marshal his thoughts into a coherent sentence.
Bryony stared down at him, hardly able to believe what he
had just said. The words were music to her ears. But did she
dare say yes?
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Chapter Twenty-four
After Michael's blurted out marriage proposal, Bryony stared
down at her lover, surprise and wounded pride warring in her
visage. It's very kind, but you dont have to say that just
because-
He shook his head. You have made me, you make me, the
happiest of men, Bryony. And I dont just mean about this, he
said, moving against her until the honeyed sensation began to
glide through her all over again.
Ever since you came into this house, the joy you and the
children have brought have gladdened my heart. Given me a
reason to look forward to a new day.
He took a ragged breath and confessed, It was just about all
up with me when you came to Blakes house that night looking
for a doctor for the boys. I was fully prepared to end it once and
for all. I, well, I stole all the laudanum from Blakes medical bag.
Poured it off and made it look like the stopper had opened and
it had leaked into the lining.
Her eyes flew wide. Oh no, love, no.
Its all right. I didnt in the end. As you can see, darling, Im
very much alive. He gave another teasing thrust which flooded
her cheeks with colour.
You stopped me. Saved me. Your faith in me, and yes, your
love. Even though I tried to tell myself it wasnt the kind of
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romantic love I longed for, youve obviously cared about me

from the start. Youve never even thought to forsake me despite
all the dark days in which I clung to my misery and pain, all the
days I was so surly. The love of a fellow human being was a
wonderful gift, dearest. But the love of a woman for her
husband is an even greater one. That is if youll have me?
Oh, my love, of course I will. She kissed him hard.
The pair were not ashamed to show their happiness with a
few tears, which each stroked and kissed away comfortingly.
Until the comfort grew to something much more urgent and
needy.
Bryony smothered his face in kisses as she rose up over
him, teasing the head of his throbbing manhood with the tiniest
of strokes in and out at the very entrance to her paradise.
Michael tried to push her down onto him fully, but she threw
all of her weight forward to counterbalance his pressure.
Just when he tried one last time, Bryony moved her hips
along with his hands, until she was impaled upon him with one
almighty stroke. Their climax tore through them like a hurricane
until both completely collapsed.
Michael was already on his back, his head lolling on the
pillow. He was sure he did not even have the strength to take a
single breath. Bryony fell forward onto his chest and neck, her
face buried against his warm vibrant flesh. Her only sensations
were the wonderful musky scent and taste of him as she lay
there open-mouthed and panting.
At last his arms crept up around her shoulders. Soothing her
tumbled hair away from her face, he held her close.
I love you, Bryony. I dont want to struggle against it any
more. I dont care who knows about us, our love. I need you like
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a flower needs rain, sun and soil. My parched soul drinks in all
the delights you offer, in bed and out. You radiate warmth and
happiness and a peace which fills me even when Im plagued
by the worst turmoil. And you nurture me, keep me warm and
satiated and anchored. Together we create this thing of
incredible beauty.
She smiled up at him, her love shining in her eyes like a
beacon in his darkness. But it can also be very delicate, fragile
even, she warned in a whisper.
Not if its tended correctly. Nursed properly, and allowed to
grow.
If we marry, though, the announcement will be made public.
Theyll know. Theyll find us, Bryony said with a barely
suppressed shiver.
It depends on how hard theyre looking.
She gave a short explosive laugh. Theyll be looking, all
right. They may well have the castle at the moment, but I have
the keys to the kingdom. Please, darling, lets just enjoy this for
a while longer, until were sure they cant hurt us. Every day you
get stronger. Every day the boys get more hale and hearty, and
love you more and more, just as I do. I dont want anything to
interfere with or corrupt their relationship with you.
I dont care about money or titles or fancy houses. Theres
nothing from my old life I want or need except the boys. Im not
just talking about Damiens parents and family. Theres also my
own. And yours. You know theyll interfere. Perhaps in a wellmeaning way, but it will be interference nonetheless.
He nodded. Youre right. But theyre bound to find out
sooner or later. I mean, a big city is a good place to remain
anonymous for a time, but weve been seen at the Baths
together now, and-
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Its all right. The Rakehells are your friends, are they not?
They all care about you. Weve already warned them not to
mention me to anyone for the time being. And Im using my
mothers maiden name, after all, as well as my middle name.
Im not so sure anyone will be able to match up Bryony Wells
with Rhiannon Dalrymple.
He stroked down her back. Thats true. They would also
have no reason to suspect that you had managed to get so far.
Or find a decent place to stay, amongst good people. Theyre
no doubt looking for a milliner or laundry woman up North in
Liverpool or Manchester. Perhaps a paid companion, of either
the reputable or disreputable sort, he said with an angry twist
of his full lips.
It is rather hard concealing the boys, though, when one has
to undertake paid employment.
He grimaced again. Theyre so arrogant and self-centered
that they would never imagine in a million years that you would
put them first, ahead of even your own welfare. Theyd be
certain youd farm them out to some poor couple to get them
out of your hair, especially if you were a paid companion. And I
have to say, with the way you were raised, being a
housekeeper is probably the last thing they would ever imagine
for you.
She nodded. Youre right. It pains me to think how selfish I
was until-
He kissed her hard. Not selfish, love, he said when he had
lifted his lips. Just ignorant of the world. You always had a
good heart. You just had little chance to use it, wrapped up as
you were in your own problems, your, well, your suffering. He
trembled anew with rage and sorrow to think how terrible her
marriage had been.
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She looked at him in confusion. What is it, my love? Whats

the matter?
I get so jealous of Damien, so angry, I could spit. Wring his
neck with my bare hands, if he werent already dead, he
admitted in a grim tone.
She kissed his cheek. But hes dead. Dead and gone, and
cant hurt me any more.
Hell never be gone, dont you see? he rasped. You have
the boys as a constant reminder of what you suffered. Much as
I love them, I hate that. I never want anything to cloud or mar
your happiness. Those dreadful memories, the things youve
had to do, tolerate
She stroked his face lovingly. No, darling, really. I love the
boys. I see only the good in them. I fear for them, true, but
theyre my children. The only thing Damien contributed to their
lives was his seed. He never had anything to do with raising
them.
As for my sorrow, hes dead now. The marriage was
terrible, but it all contributed to making me the person I am now,
the woman you say you love.
As for being jealous," she said, stroking his cheek, "you
have no call to be. Damien never touched my heart, body or
soul the way you have. He couldnt possibly have managed. He
didnt know how to share. Its just as well, because everything
he touched, he corrupted.
He let out a shaky sigh. I just wish I had known you before,
when you were younger, untouched, unspoilt. Innocent and
pure. So I could have kept you that way.
Bryony smiled down at him gently. Dont you think I wish the
same for you, love? To see you happy and smiling? Do you not
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think Im jealous of all your past paramours?

He shook his head. You have no call to be. It was just a
meeting of bodies. None of them ever touched my heart. In fact,
I prided myself I was lacking in that organ until I met you. Well,
perhaps until I began to regret everything I had done during the
war. And saw how happy my friends were once they were
married.
"I have to admit I sorely envied them. Not because I fancied
their wives, or anything, but because they had found someone
who made them so obviously happy.
Like Blake?
Yes, like Blake. Or Philip Marshall. Or Alexander Davenport,
even. Philip in particular was completely tormented by the past,
yet he is exceptionally devoted to his wife, and vice versa.
The way Im going to be completely devoted to you, I
promise.
What about me to you?
She shrugged. Oh, well, its different for me, I think. Im the
one whos done all the running after you-
What makes you think its different? he asked quietly.
She shrugged. Just that men have their career and all sorts
of entertainments, duties and distractions. Their wife is never
the centre of their universe the way a husband is to a wife.
Darling, believe me, you are going to be the centre of my
universe until the day death parts us. It is I who have to revolve
around you and your world. The boys have needs which have
to take precedence even over mine.
Oh, love, I dont want to feel like were making any choices
or sacrifices here. You need to get well and-
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And they are defenseless small boys who need to be safe

and adored," Michael said firmly. "I know you can adore me at
the same time. I dont want you to worry about my feeling
second best. So long as I have you to myself in this bed, the
rest doesnt matter.
She placed her palms against his cool cheeks, forcing him to
look into her eyes. It does matter, darling. Were going to be a
family. Everyone has to feel loved, needed, and above all, able
to trust and have faith. Im not going to give myself to you in tidy
little parcels.
You get all of me, Michael. Love begets love. Dont ever
think for a minute that I wont want or need you by my side,
always. Or that you arent worthy of love.
She ran her lips over his throat in a sensual caress that left
him reeling with renewed and even more acute desire.
I understand it all now. It was the night I came to you for
help. You werent drunk, you were having one of your spells,
and you were about to drink the laudanum, werent you? The
broken glass all over the floor...
Yes, yes, I was, he admitted, the tears beginning to fall
even as his blood raced through him like a galloping steed.
Then I was sent to you to save you. My feet were led
unerringly to a doctors house to save my children, and I was
led there to save you. Promise me, Michael, no matter how
unbearable-
He met her eyes and said earnestly, I promise. I swear to
you. Ive been given a second chance, and Im not going to ruin
it. Even if I never walk again, so long as I have your love, and
that of our children, I shall never, ever give up.
She gasped in surprise as he heaved upwards with his arms
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and rolled on top of her. He gritted his teeth at the movement in

his legs and hips, but his shaft had found her secret entrance
unerringly, and the thrill of being inside her drove him on.
He was so heavy on top of her and deep within her that she
felt as though she were being massaged inside and out by his
massively muscular body.
Michael! Michael! she gasped at his first two thrusts,
clinging to him fervently.
Her incredible excitement propelled him forward. The pain
he felt was as nothing compared to the pleasure, and he drove
on, balancing more and more of his weight upon his hands to
rise up to watch her delight. He was also afraid of crushing her,
but managed to partly lever himself on his knees.
The deadness he had felt in his lower extremities became an
almost unbearable tingling, like pins and needles, but the
tingling of her lovemaking now came to the fore.
He could feel the surging head of his manhood right up at
the top of her womb, and alternated deep forceful thrusts with
quick, teasing movements just at the entrance of her body.
She clung to him importunately, raking him with her nails,
panting and moaning. No please, dont pull away.
He chuckled throatily. Im not going anywhere. Im just
reveling in the feel of you all around me, the lovely soft silky
caress of you down below.
He swiveled himself inside her now with an almost flexible
roll of his hips which astonished her in more ways than one.
Her eyes widened. Where did you learn how to.
I never did until now.
And your movement
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Its not walking, but I always did think being horizontal was a
lot more fun. There were times in the Army I would have sold
my soul for a soft warm bed.
With someone in it? she asked quietly, her eyes dark with
passion and some fear.
He shook his head and smiled. Not always. Sleep is vastly
underrated by people who can manage to get any.
Are you tired? she asked, her tone loving.
He kissed her tenderly on the mouth. Not at all. But lets see
if we cant help me out a bit more here. Grab those pillows and
stuff them under you.
His arms trembled as he took the whole of his weight, but
once she was cushioned, she had raised herself off the bed
several inches, and him practically to the brink.
For he had remained inside her, and her simple, natural
movements and wiggling into place enflamed him far more than
even the alluring rotation of her hips.
Beads of perspiration dewed his forehead and at last he
collapsed onto her, his elbows on either side of her body, which
was curved up into his so intimately he was sure here was no
place where their flesh did not meet. He was panting with
desire, his tip so deeply within her molten core he was almost
afraid to move.
Give me a minute, love. Im going to go wild if I dont stop.
Then go wild, darling. Ill be right there with you, she
whispered, showering any part of his flesh she could reach with
warm open-mouthed kisses.
I want to give you more-
Youve already given me so much. Take what you need. Ill
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be right there with you.

She tried to move her hips the barest fraction, and got an
answering throb from the massive head of his manhood which
took her so completely by surprise she climaxed in an instant.
His own huge shuddering spasms seemed to go on and on.
He drew back and forward with one last huge thrust which they
were sure would spilt her in two. He kissed her like a starving
man as the orgasm went on and on.
Just when she thought she couldnt climax any more, he
shifted his body on hers, pulling up her leg to spread her
further, and deepening his position within.
His fingers sought out her moist bud and petals and
whispered over them. Her hips flew upwards as she arched her
back and shouted his name against his mouth.
She had the heady sensation of all of him trying to climb
right inside of her, possessing her utterly. Then she was
sobbing against him, her climax so powerful she could do
nothing except weep with joy and the intensity of her release.
Oh God, Im sorry, did I hurt you? he said, trying to roll off
her.
She clung onto the huge solid weight of him as though she
would never let him go. Not at all. I'm so happy. It was just
incredible. I never knew it could be like this.
Neither did I. But its just going to keep getting better. We
can attune ourselves to each others bodies, pleasure.
Experiment, have fun. Its been a long time since Ive had fun.
Well, this kind of fun, anyway, he said, caressing one breast
and then bending his head to kiss the tears from her cheeks.
And it was certainly never like this.
Its been a lot of fun having the boys around, people to
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share things with. I want to let joy into our home. Youre right.
No boundaries, no more hiding. Once were married they wont
be able to do anything to harm us.
"I dont like to brag, but I come from a pretty powerful family
in my own right. I have some very powerful friends as well. I
swear to you, Ill protect my family always.
She held him close. I know you will. I just cant help feeling
frightened.
Then I need to fill you with joy all over again, so you cant
feel anything else except that, he said moving against her, his
desire unmistakable once more.
No, darling, I mean, its oh, Lord, its, its wonderful, but-
Whatever she was about to say was lost in his mouth as he
slipped his tongue into hers and thrust with both of his most
tantalizing pieces of flesh.
Whatever rationality they both possessed fled in the face of
their tempestuous lovemaking, until he gave one last groan,
and rolled over onto his back, taking him with her. He blindly felt
for and yanked up the covers over the prostrate Bryony and
himself, and at last they slept.
Chapter Twenty-five
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The dawn chorus eventually penetrated Michaels

exhaustion the following day. He opened one bleary eye, and
for a moment he felt a deep inner fury. He had thought he was
doing so much better. But now his lower body felt leaden and
almost paralysed once more.
Then he started, and smiled in relief. He looked down, and
his already clamouring erection thrust even more intently
upwards as he realised Bryony was sleeping on top of him, one
leg thrown over his knees, one arm over his hips, her head
upon his abdomen, her face almost nestled in his dark crisp
curls.
She moved slightly with a sound between a yawn and a purr,
caressing her cheek against the silky head of his penis.
Oh my, he breathed.
She had done it to him the night before, of course, but this
time was different, a treasuring and reverent awe, a nurturing
tenderness, no urgency or desperate striving for completion. It
was more like a whispered promise that it was the first day of
forever. That their lives together would always be warm, loving,
gentle and considerate.
I love that. I love you, he said, stroking her cheek, tracing
the swirls of her delicate ear. I cant imagine anything more
lovely to wake up to, except you up here with me giving me a
proper kiss, or me planted between your thighs.
She lifted her mouth from him in one last lingering caress,
and rubbed her cheek upwards over his body in a long languid
stroke like a cat, arching her back and practically purring.
He grinned lustily, but was too lazy to do more than he had
promised and kiss her.
Good morning, darling, he murmured
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Good morning, my dearest love.

Did you sleep well, sweetheart?
Oh I did. I had the most wonderful dreams last night.
Michael grinned. They werent dreams, love. They were
real. I was there. I shared them.
Im glad. Theres only one problem, she sighed. I could
barely think about anything else except you before we made
love, wondering what it was going to be like. Now that I know, I
cant think about anything else except the wonderful things we
shared.
He held her close, stroking her breasts, neck and face
lightly. A terrible problem to have. But again, one I share.
Though to be fair, so you dont accuse me of being a complete
lecher, I do occasionally think about food as well.
Mmm, what a good idea. But Im going to scandalise
everyone if I ring for your breakfast now.
Well, we cant have that, can we, he said in a neutral tone.
I mean, that is, unless you dont care who knows, she said,
venturing a small peep at his face to see if she could gauge his
expression.
He could sense he was being tested, and was determined
not to fail. I not only dont care, if I could get to the top of the
Bath Abbey spires, I would shout it from the rooftops.
She grinned. And what exactly would you shout?
I love Bryony Wells. Soon to be Bryony Avenel. I have the
most wonderful woman in the world in my house, in my life. And
if she doesnt stop doing that with her hand, I shall have her in a
compromising position, me on top preferably. Though if youd
care to do the honours I wouldnt say no.
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She giggled again. In that case, breakfast first.

He looked almost disappointed.
Bryony winked. You can hide the sausage.
He laughed. Oh, darling, you are sooo naughty. I love it.
Some rather boisterous lovemaking followed, but even
Bryony began to grow famished as the sun rose in the sky, and
of course the boys needed to be looked in on. She had told
Annie noon, after all.
She tugged on her silk robe, and Michael felt as though all
the light had gone out of the room.
Ill just get you on the chamber-
Michael blanched. No, please. I mean, it was bad enough
when we werent-
She grasped his shoulder. You have nothing to be ashamed
of. Nothing is ever going to make me think less of you. In
sickness and in health, remember? There will be times when
youre going to have to help me, Im sure. When I was pregnant
with the boys I couldnt even get my shoes on. Once they were
born I bled for weeks afterwards. My mothers milk got
everywhere. Damien said I was the most disgusting woman
hed ever met in his life.
Michaels expression transformed instantly to granite. The
bastard. Those things should be beautiful, to be shared as part
of the joy of bringing a new young life into the world.
Good, then. If youre telling me you wouldnt find my normal
womanly functions disgusting, why should I find yours awful?
Please, darling, just take it as yet another way to show you how
much I care. Dont let anything come between us, cause us to
be reserved or less than honest with one another.
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I am being honest. I hate you having to see me like this, he

grumbled, all their happy playing at an end.
Yet if you hadnt been this way, we might never have grown
so close, she pointed out gently, sitting on the bed beside him
to shower kisses all over his neck and chest.
Men and women in our society dont often get to be friends,
get to know each other intimately before they launch into
marriage. They either elope, or marry because its all arranged
by interested parties, or have affairs because they feel they
cant help themselves. But how many of them ever really know
the other person?
The same is true of being married, I suppose?
Bryony nodded. It is. Just when I thought I knew Damien he
would stoop even lower.
Michael gritted his teeth.
She saw his reaction and sighed. Were going to make a
pact, my love. No more mention of him. He helped to form me
as I am now, which has been no bad thing in the end, though it
was hell at the time. But you seem so jealous that Ill never
bring him up again unless we have to. I dont want you to be
upset. Any comparisons can only be with you in the most
favourable light, and him in the worst.
Thank you, love, but you dont have to say that. Six years of
marriage--
Were six years too long, apart from my sons. Our sons, as
they are now. Speaking of whom, Id better go make sure they
arent torturing Annie. Ill help you here, send Robin in, and see
you for breakfast in about half an hour, after Ive dressed?
Yes. But would you mind very much not dressing? he
asked, his eyes glowing. And tell Cook to make it breakfast in
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bed?
Why darling, I do believe youre trying to sweep me off my
feet yet again. The answer is yes, please.
He gave her a broad grin then, and didnt even mind when
she helped him with his toilette and got him back into bed.
And well have a bath later too, the two of us in the tub
soaking. How does that sound?
Rousing, as you can tell if you look down.
How do you feel this morning? I mean, really. She gave a
worried frown. Your back and legs?
I think Blake is right. I have to use the muscles, even when
it hurts. The few times Ive exercised and the pain has been
bad, Ive stopped. Here I have more than enough incentive to
keep going. Yes, it hurt, but it also loosened up quite a bit, so
the next time was easier. Just like I stopped going to the Baths
for a time, and only got worse. As soon as you bullied me into
going again, I got better.
Bullied is such a hard, nasty word. Try coaxed, cajoled, she
said, fluttering her eyelashes.
How about brow-beat, coerced, blackmailed.
Are you complaining? she asked with mock petulance.
After all, you got a pretty good bargain.
And you didnt? he returned, his face sobering once more.
She grinned. I most certainly did. But then I knew I would,
so I didnt whinge and complain about going to the Baths, now
did I?
I cant tell you how grateful I am, he said earnestly.
She cupped his dimpled chin with her hand. I dont want
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your gratitude. I just want love, pure and simple. Love of me as

I am, not because of what Ive done to help you.
Youve always had that, Bryony, he said settling back
against the plumped-up pillows. I cant tell you how my heart
leapt at the sight of you that first night. How impressed I was
with your determination and fortitude. Your devotion as a
mother. I thought even then you were someone well worth
know and loving.
She kissed him then. The contact instantly burst into a
conflagration so intense that all thought of getting up for
breakfast fled in the face of his urgent need.
He slid the robe off her shoulders and dragged her back in
the bed. After a time he lifted his lips to request, Can you
please put your back to me so I can kiss it?
She was surprised a little at his words, but still in a trancelike
state from his kiss, she did as he asked. His hot breath, lips and
tongue whispering nuzzling and licking over her neck,
shoulders and down to the small of her back had her shivering
hot and cold all over. She could feel the dampness between her
thighs welling up almost unbearably.
He took his time, making love to her with a leisured
thoroughness which made her feel like the most beautiful
woman in the world. His hand caressed her stomach and
breasts, teasing each nipple gently in turn before moving down
to her navel. It moved further down still, until she was groaning
against the pillow. He nudged one of her legs forward, but she
felt a sudden anxiousness and rolled quickly onto her back to
let him slide in hotly, wetly. Her body was so languid yet so
primed for his touch that the orgasm rolled through her
uncontrollably and she cried out his name.
She rammed her hips upwards until he gasped, Wait, love,
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take your time. Im not going anywhere.

He moved his other arm down to grasp her breasts and
gentle her with long soothing strokes, before moving his fingers
to toy with her shadowy hills and valleys. Her flesh felt so
distended that even the least flick of his fingers against the tight
little bud set off the rippling deep within her.
Michael had to think of anything in the world other than
himself inside of her as he continued to press in and out,
making her climax again and again. She pleaded with him
weakly to take what he needed to end it, but the excitement of
her pleasure was even better than taking his own, for he knew it
would be over all too soon.
He knew he was also being selfish and evasive. As soon as
she could think straight once more, she might start to have
regrets. Might start to feel shame or withdraw from him in some
way, back to only the warm friend she had been.
He couldnt bear the thought of her not looking at him or
touching him with love, and kissed her full on the mouth. She
groaned as another zenith of pleasure grew and exploded
within her, and now strained against him for escape.
He hung onto her, scooping her body even more tightly to
him and pressed hard until she whimpered anew.
She dragged her lips away. Please, Michael we cant keep
doing this--
Ive been told by Ash that the men in the east can do this for
hours on end. Ive never had the leisure or even the inclination
to try before. But for you, my love, anything.
But its not fair, she gasped.
He laughed teasingly. Now, now love. Most women
complain they dont have enough pleasure in the marriage bed.
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You can hardly be complaining about having too much.

No, I meant your-
Her words were choked off by another sob of passion. He
clung to her and contemplated the most arctic thoughts about
snow and rain and icicles to keep her passion sparking but
forestall his own climax. She was boneless and quivering an
hour later when she begged him for the hundredth time to
complete himself inside her.
Im told by Ash also that six is the magic number for me,
and you too, I suppose, he said with smile.
His own release tore through him. With one last gutwrenching surge which he was sure was going to turn him
inside out, he climaxed, hugged her close, and slept the sleep
of the dead.
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Chapter Twenty-six
Eventually Bryony stirred and managed to slip from the bed
before Michaels questing hands tugged her back into his arms.
She had the most thrilling throb between her legs from all they
had shared, but it wouldnt do to make them sore and him
exhausted on their first night together.
Well, day, she amended, for it was well and truly noon by the
time she got upstairs to spend more thana few moments with
the children. After a quick bath and a clean gown, she brought
Michael breakfast in bed. She then withdrew strategically so
that Robin could help him with his toilette.
All of the servants grinned at her, including the normally
impassive Simms the butler. She could swear he even winked
as he went past.
Michael lay like a man stunned. He could hardly believe
what had happened between them. But unlike Bryony, he
began to have second thoughts about himself and what he had
done to her.
How could she love a man like him? Want to be with him
night and day? She might feel like that about him now, but in a
week or two...
He wondered about how he could please her, recalling all
the women he had kept busily occupied in bed. Well, he was a
far cry from what he had once been. But that was true of a lot of
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aspects of his life, not just his sexuality. On the other hand, it
had never been like this... So thrilling, sensual.
He looked around to see if Robin were still in his room, and
then tried raising himself with his feet flat on the floor. The pain
seared through him, and for a moment he had visions of him
collapsing in an ignominious heap and having to be rescued by
half the household. But love was all about risk...
He was exhausted and in a thoroughly bad temper by the
time Robin came to see if he was finished on the commode and
wanted his bath. His arms were so weak from practising trying
to stand he had a hard time getting in and out of the tub.
Bryony heard him cursing furiously, and quailed. She had
thought she was helping, but it appeared she had only made
things worse.
His tirade continued for some time, until she didnt know
what to do. Standing as frozen as a lamped rabbit, she stared
at his door and the huge staircase.
Snatching up her bonnet and reticule, she went to the
stables, secured a mount, and went to pay some calls.
Her first visit was to Ash and Eswara. She told them briefly
that she and Michael now appeared to be a couple, which they
were delighted about.
After lots of warm hugs and kisses all around and a glass of
wine to celebrate, she told them the purpose of her coming.
Im glad to help, Ash reassured her. Tell the carpenter to
call any time.
And youll come to the house whenever it can be
arranged?
Yes, well be delighted to.
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Im going to ask Blake and Arabella to visit as well. Id like

you all to meet, see what they think of the therapeutic
massage.
Very good, except that it might be better coming from you.
What do you mean?
You do it to them.
Oh, no, I mean they're Michaels friends and
Eswara was firm. If youre to be a healer, it means doing it
to everyone, men and women. You can of course specialise in
women, as I have done. Many men would not view a woman
practitioner with the appropriate respect. But youre English, a
Westerner. It wont seem so bizarre to them if you can convince
them that youve helped heal Michael with very little help from
me. If he asks where you learned, then you can tell him.
Bryony agreed reluctantly, and went to call at the workshop
of the master carpenter, Mr. Davis. To her infinite relief he didnt
laugh at her ideas at all.
This is Bath, Miss, and your ideas are sound ones. Ive had
to adapt all sorts of houses and properties to suit invalids, but
these improvements are very clever. Of course, I wont be able
to tell about the house until I see it in person. But Id be eager
to start on the chair and the tub device if you like.
Im not so sure about the item for mounting the horse. But in
the meantime, I can give you a mechanical horse to help him
build up his muscles. Its a sprung affair he sits on and gallops,
as it were. And I know a good saddler who can help you.
"The carriage device will be the hardest, but with time and
patience I think we can manage to let him be as independent as
he wants to be. Or to just have one person like your good self
helping him, Madam.
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Ash was able to model for Mr. Davis, being just about the
right height and weight. The four of them worked together on
the preliminary sketches, which she slipped into her reticule.
As soon as I hear from Blake and Arabella Ill summon you
and we can have a confab again, she said to the three.
And Im going to come measure up the foyer and stairs.
And all the bathrooms.
Mr. Davis nodded. If you can just give me ten pounds
deposit on the chairs and so forth, Ill get started immediately
and have all this preliminary work done by the end of the week.
Oh, no real hurry, she said, balking a bit. She still had to
win Michael around to some of her ideas, and had the feeling
that she was going to need all the help she could get from
Blake. Unless of course she made the whole thing a complete
surprise....
How many days do you think the stairs would take?
Cant commit myself totally without seeing them first, but I
would say a week for everything.
So if we went to stay with friends
Mr. Davis nodded. We could have everything set up for you
by the time you got back.
Thomas Eltham has been asking us to come stay for some
time. And were always welcome at Blakes. All right, were
going to do it that way.
Are you sure you want to present him with a fait accompli?
Eswara asked in a worried tone.
She smiled. Hell be angry, but I think I can get him to come
round in time.
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Ash laughed. Of that I have no doubt. You certainly have

blossomed, my dear. And now, two requests. Firstly, can Mr.
Davis make me a similar set of chairs and aids? Secondly, will
someone please come get me out of this tub? Its as hard as a
rock.
They all laughed at that good-naturedly, and helped the
disabled young man out.
Once Ash was safely back in his Bath chair, Bryony headed
home with a light heart, and was immediately pounced upon by
Michael when she got in.
Where on earth have you been? he demanded, his dark
brows drawing down.
In Bath with Eswara and Ash.
Yes, Ash, he said grimly.
She plunked herself into his lap and kissed him hard. Dont
even think it, let alone say it. I belong to you.
His pale eyes darkened with tempestuous passion and his
hands moved over her lustily. Show me.
Gladly, but lets at least get to your room, she panted.
No sooner had the door shut behind them than he had her
gown half off and was ducking his head to try to lick her
stomach. She squirmed out of the way and stepped behind the
chair, unfastening his clothes hurriedly whilst she nibbled his
earlobes. Once he was bare to the waist, she moved around to
the front. He said in a husky whisper, Ive had nothing but
visions of you naked with your hair down ever since we met.
Would you please ollige me?
Raising her arms over her head, she complied with slow,
lingering movements which set him aflame.
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Lovely, just lovely, he breathed, stroking the tresses back

from her face, and down over her breasts, cupping one through
the shimmering raven hair cascading down to her knees.
Let me look at you down
No, really, lets get you into bed, she said with a shiver.
He noticed the subtle change in her, but her hands were
steady as she unfastened his trousers and worked them off him
patiently, then got him in the bed and laid down full-length
beside him.
Tell me what you want, darling.
One of your intoxicating kisses, she whispered, tracing his
lips lovingly.
The storm burst over them in an instant as their lips met and
breath mingled. Bryony wondered at the enchantment which
rendered two halves into a whole as she slid onto him and he
filled her with rapturous strokes which left her breathless with
need even as he fulfilled her every desire.
Her orgasms only seemed to increase in intensity as he tried
to mimic her massage caresses and devoted all of his huge
hands energies to her hips and thighs.
She certainly found it pleasurable, but the contact was also
an unpleasant reminder of the things her husband had tried to
do, and she rolled onto her back, taking him with her, eager to
feel his hard weight massaging her front.
She grew nervous again when he grasped her hands to
curve his fingers into hers on the mattress. She pulled her lips
away. She managed to wrest one away to stroke his cheek,
reminding herself that this was Michael and he was gentle, not
cruel.
But now that he had taken over their lovemaking in a
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desperate effort to please her, she found herself growing

frightened at the forces she had unleashed within him.
And herself. As another orgasm shredded her sanity and she
lay sobbing with almost mindless joy, she wondered at the
wisdom of what she had done. For now that she had known
such passion and pleasure, nothing could ever compare. To
lose this bliss would truly be to lose paradise on earth.
As she lay reveling in the afterglow, Michael began to kiss
down her neck to her breasts, suckling them in turn until she felt
the most powerful tug at her womb, and spread her legs wide.
But rather than move up the bed, he began to slide downwards.
Her sense of panic catapulted through her again.
Damnation... No, please, not that, Michael she said in
alarm.
What, what is it? he asked, flattening himself onto her
chest once more.
I had so little pleasure before, that this is too much. Its
almost frightening.
I understand. Its frightening to lose control, he said
tenderly.
Its not just my skin, my body. It feels like theres something
burrowing under my flesh everywhere. From head to toe. I can
feel my face and belly going on fire with one single touch of
your fingers. Even the sound of your voice.
He laughed triumphantly. You have no idea what this
means to me. How wonderful it makes me feel.
I hope as wonderful as youre making me feel.
Im glad.
But I feel so selfish. As if Im using you for
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He laughed incredulously. You can say that to me after the

wonderful way you woke me up this morning? No, my darling,
you make me feel treasured, and I just want to return the
favour.
We dont always have to be struggling for who pleases who,
though. You had your turn, Ive had more than enough of mine,
so now I think its yours again. Just let it go. Just let it flood
through you like the roaring tide.
I thought thats what I was doing. Nice little languid
caresses.
He embellished his words by joining as one with her and
making the most subtle movements which had her on fire all
over again. Only this time she caught him by surprise and rolled
him off before he could trap her and impale her once more.
She flipped over quickly and rammed him onto his back,
joining with him in a single fluid movement of her hips which
was at last his undoing. Her hands were everywhere, rubbing
his sensitive globes, his face and hair. His orgasm scorched
them both as he poured all of his pent-up longing into her with
one last mighty cry.
Are you all right? she asked some time later, when she
was at last able to speak again. Her sense of panic was just an
unpleasant memory as he lay under her, completely subdued.
Safe. But he wasnt always going to be like that, she knew....
She pushed away the fear, and kissed him.
He nodded weakly, speechless with joy. And confusion. He
knew that there was something he had missed, but was fearful
to find out what it was.
She cradled his head against her bosom, and once more
they slept.
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Chapter Twenty-seven
A note from Blake the next morning told Bryony he and his
wife would come to stay overnight the following day. She
conveyed the message to Michael.
He looked surprised and pleased. Can you make sure the
guest room is
Yes. Do you mind them knowing about us? she asked
softly.
He grinned. Mind? I cant wait to tell them.
He kissed her warmly, but even as he did so he wondered at
her reticence in bed the previous evening. He decided that she
was having some second thoughts already herself. He wanted
to reassure her, but it was difficult when he was not sure so
himself that this was the best thing for her.
Already he might have removed many of her choices by
getting her with child. He would need to ask Blake for some
help with some protectors, and try to contain his exuberance
enough to pull out of her before the critical moment.
He hated having to speak to her about such unromantic and
practical things, but she was going to have to know, help him
even. He hated his dependency, though she had given him no
cause to feel uneasy on that score. In fact, what they had
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shared encouraged him all the more to try walking when no one
was around.
A moment later she said, You dont mind if Ash and Eswara
come too, do you? Its just that Eswara is a healer and I feel
sure she and Blake would have a lot in common.
No, I dont mind, he said, trying to quash the jealousy he
felt.
That jealousy was increased tenfold when their guests
arrived, and he discovered Ash was staying in the upstairs part
of the house despite his handicap. He could hear the constant
murmur of voices in the chambers above. Blake, much to his
surprise, spent more time upstairs with Bryony than with him.
Bryony had first explained her ideas for the house
renovations, and showed Blake the preliminary sketches. The
good doctor was excited at the plans, and happy to have the
whole little family stay with them for as long as they needed
whilst the work took place.
She had ended up giving both Blake and Arabella
massages, shame on all their parts abandoned for the sake of
medical inquiry. Blake examined Ash in front of the three
women, and studied the notes Eswara had been making on his
progress and all the different treatments which Eswara had
tried whilst Bryony massaged Arabella.
It was thus that Michael found him when he insisted the
servants take him upstairs, and his face flamed. The five of
them looked at him calmly as he sputtered an apology.
Bryony covered all of Arabellas bare bottom with a towel
quickly, but she asked her to carry on, so she continued on
under the cloth.
Ash lay as nonchalantly on the chaise longue as Adam in
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Paradise.
Michael shook his head again at the strangely exotic young
man. Now they even seemed to have turned the Sandersons
heads. He had seldom seen his friend looking less than dapper,
yet there he was in his shirt-sleeves, his neck bared. Oh, no,
surely she hadnt done that to them as well....
Another glimpse at the stark naked Ash and his friends
crookedly fastened buttons convinced him that she had. He
quaked with jealousy, nearly choking with ire.
My God, orgies under his own roof! Well, she hadnt been
married to the Demon for nothing after all....
Yet she seemed the picture of innocence.
Bryony finished and then helped Arabella into her own silk
robe. The young woman belted it and came over to where
Michael was sitting.
So how are you feeling? This massaging certainly seems a
wonderful idea. Most restful. And, er, stimulating.
Michael quivered a bit as he observed the way the silk
draped over her. His friends wife was a very attractive young
woman, but he wanted only Bryony. He looked from one to
another in confusion, feeling like a callow youth.
Blake had been quite a circumspect man throughout the war,
with one steady mistress, a much older and rather dull widow,
and a couple of bored Army wives in the six years he had
served in the Iberian peninsula. He was sure Arabella had been
chaste when they wed. Eswara was supposed to be a
respectable widow and Ash was scarcely more than a child.
What was he thinking? He was clearly letting his imagination
run away with him due to his own insecurities.
He was reassured when Bryony came over to sit in his lap.
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We were all just getting dressed again and coming back

downstairs. Blake thinks he might have a job for Eswara at
Millcote. Ash is feeling so much better now that he might be
able to resume his schooling and also be trained by Blake.
Wonderful news. So you would be going off to Millcote? he
asked politely, hoping he kept the enormous relief out of his
voice.
If we can find a good home to go to, once Ash is well, of
course. Walking again, I hope. For the moment, we are quite
comfortable in Bath and enjoying the delights of the town,
Eswara replied.
You would have more patients here in Bath, but I would be
most grateful if you would consider it. Theyll be coming to stay
for a few days, Michael. I would be delighted if you all would be
willing to form a little house party?
Oh, no, um Michael said, blushing at the thought of some
sybaritic...
Certainly. We can also see the Elthams and Stones. Blake
wants to show us the site of the new house theyre building at
Jerome Manor, and introduce us to his cousins, Bryony told
him.
Michael caught the five of them exchanging looks but could
not interpret them clearly. He got the feeling they were all hiding
something from him, but one kiss from Bryony and he gave in.
All right. When?
The day after tomorrow?
Fine, he said shortly, wondering why he was certain he
was being manipulated in some subtle way he was not going to
like at all.
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His conviction he was being manipulated and that Bryony

was being less than honest with him persisted that night when
she said she wanted a bath with him before bed. It was not
something that was easily accomplished even when he had two
burly manservants at his beck and call, let alone one very tiny
woman. Even more disturbing was the way she seemed to
watch his every move like a lion about to pounce.
Once he was in the tub he did have to admit to feeling a
great deal better, for she had added some special volcanic bath
salts which turned the water an alarming shade of bright green.
She made the water absolutely scalding, as hot as he could
withstand, and told him to just sit there. She made him some of
his favourite tea, and soon his incredible sense of ease
overrode any lingering resentment for the odd way he was sure
she had been acting.
She soaped him all over lingeringly, massaging his manhood
until he was sure he would snap the sides of the tub. She
washed his hair as tenderly as if she had been taking care of
one of her own sons.
He shook his head. It seemed like the more he got to know
her, the more confusing and mysterious she became. He tried
to reach for her under her robe, asked her in a husky voice to
show herself so he could lick her, but there it was again, that
sliding away into herself which he feared and resented.
Let me at least fondle your breasts, he rasped.
Certainly. She gave him a warm smile with no trace of that
wariness he had sensed only a few moments before. Soon,
however, he was begging for more, and the water in the tub
was tepid.
Do you want to stay in and Ill refill it, or get out and head for
the bed?
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Bed, please.
His muscles strained mightly as he pushed himself up and
out. She pulled him onto the edge one leg at a time. Can you
scoot along sideways to the chair? she asked softly.
It wasnt easy, but he managed, and was once again seated
in the chair huffing and puffing like a grampus. God, give me a
minute. Baths wear me out so much.
Yet you adore them?
I do. Again, another thing I rarely got in Spain, he said as
she wheeled him into the room and got him into bed. That was
a nice bath with that green power. It felt wonderful. And that
tea...
He was hardly still as she massaged him. When she turned
him over to do his front he grabbed her impatiently. Her eyes
widened and she tugged back her wrists and scrambled from
the bed.
Im sorry! Im sorry. I didnt mean--
No, its my fault. I overreacted. I thought I was ready for this.
Maybe I was wrong.
I remind you of the Demon? he guessed, both upset and
hurt at the way she was staring at him.
Yes, she admitted. Not all the time, but the grabbing of my
wrists, and well, when you were um, playing with my bottom the
other night. I mean, I know you werent going to, um, and the
massage was lovely, but
Im sorry, I didnt mean to scare you," he apologised at
once. "And me holding your hands, it panicked you, yet you
said nothing. Darling, if youre so worried, you really need to be
honest with me, tell me the truth. If youve changed your mind
about us
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No, not at all, its just, um, well She sighed and met his
earnest pale blue gaze. "Youre so strong. This thing between
us is so powerful, I have no control. Youre an experienced,
well, rake. A man of the world. I feel like Im being swept away
by you.
The feeling is mutual, he said with a rueful shake of his
head. Youre the one who straddled me the other night. So
what happened, Bryony? You felt sorry for the poor cripple, and
now you realise Im not quite the pathetic and feeble chap you
thought I was?
No, thats not it at all, Michael," she protested sincerely.
"What is it, then?" he sighed. "You can tell me."
"Its me! Not just you, she confessed. Yes, I get a bit
nervous at some of the reminders of my horrible old life. Things
you do inadvertently. Its not your fault.
"But theres also one part of me that hears him say what a
terrible wife I was, and Im terrified that it might be true. That
youre only here with me because Ive, well, I've forced myself
on you, straddled you as you put it, and now you have to put up
with me.
Michael shook his head in disbelief. Darling, you dont know
what youre saying. Another woman? Im not blind, you know.
Ive been to Bath. Its been almost two years since Toulouse.
Ive seen women, theyve seen me. No one has been interested
except you. Even if they were, I havent been able to think
about anything but you since the night we met.
Terrible wife? The man must have been insane. If a woman
is frigid its only because the man hasnt got the patience to try
to make her happy. Doesnt care about anyone but himself.
"So please, stop doubting yourself, and thinking that
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somehow youre going to trigger something nasty in me. Now

that I know what he did, I wont do those things again without
asking. And if theres anything else youre afraid of you need to
tell me.
And you, Michael? Will you tell me? she asked softly.
Im only afraid of not making you happy. Of you leaving me.
I was so jealous of Ash and Blake today, I wanted to spit.
Jealous? Whatever for? she asked in surprise.
Because you massaged them too, didnt you? And youve
seen them naked.
And Arabella and Eswara, she pointed out mildly.
Its not the same.
No, youre right. What you and I share isnt therapeutic any
more, its sensual.
I cant see the difference, he said in clipped tones.
Ah, but you can feel it. Think how we started out. She
rubbed his leg with very precise movements and then gentled
her touch down to something much more alluring and arousing.
Now do you see the difference?
Hmm, yes. But still
You have no call to be jealous. Blake would never be
unfaithful to Arabella, and Ash and I are like brother and sister.
Still, youve kissed him, havent you? And I dont just mean
a peck on the cheek like before when you were saying good
night to everyone, he said, his throat tight.
No, youre right, I did kiss him the way a man and woman
kiss.
And? he demanded.
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And what?
How did you feel?
She smiled. Like I love you.
He frowned in confusion. What?
She kissed him then, and the heavens opened. The
wellspring of the passion which had been churning and boiling
just underneath the surface bubbled over, flooding them with
pure raw sensation.
No one else does this to me, she panted when she finally
managed to drag her lips away. No passionate kiss could ever
mean anything to me but yours.
Michael cupped her face in his hands, his eyes never leaving
hers as he rolled her over onto her side and filled her. His touch
was light, and he made no move to take her hands or grasp her
buttocks. She sensed what he was doing, showing her. Even in
the throes of passion, he could still have control, and so could
she. She could scramble away at any time. Her arms looped
around him, and she could hear the thunderous beating of his
heart.
Youre so lovely, Bryony. Dont ever doubt it. And Ill try to
not doubt you, or our friends again.
She stroked her hands down him, and with a single caress
ignited the touchpaper of his explosive ecstasy, which drove
her on towards her final fulfillment. A sensual somnolence
swept through them, and settling against the pillows they slept
dreamlessly until dawn.
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Chapter Twenty-eight
Michaels unease lifted slightly the following day when they
all spent it together and he did not see Bryony pay any especial
regard to Ash, who happily entertained the boys for hours with
stories of life in India.
Still, he needed Bryony to be safe and happy with him.
Michael drew Blake to one side to consult with him after supper,
and told him his fears.
Well, its rather like closing the barn door after the horse has
bolted, but youre going to need to be honest with her about
how you feel about contraception. She already has the two
boys. With you as you are at the moment it might be a very
crushing burden for her. Not to mention it making marital
relations that much more difficult given your present state. Of
course Ill help, but you need to talk to her.
"Thank you."
He looked at Michael more closely now. Youre not ready to
be a father in any case, are you?
Michael shook his head. No. Its not something I can even
begin to grasp. Not least because my own father was so awful
to me
Only when you were older and fell out. It wasnt always so,
and might be different now
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No. If youre my friend, dont even suggest what I think

youre about to say.
All right. Maybe not now, but in time. To both seeing your
father, and being one.
Michael blew out a shaky breath. Maybe, but I wouldnt
count on it any time soon.
Then lets just hope you get a tighter rein on your
rampaging emotions before you end up with a little accident on
the way whether youre ready for a baby in your lives or not.
Bryony noted Michaels pensive mood as soon as she came
in to see him, still undressed after his friends examination.
What is it? Is it bad news? she asked worriedly.
Er, no, not at all. Im just a bit well, sore after all his poking
and prodding.
Would you like another green bath and some tea?
She looked at him so lovingly, he was willing to agree to
anything just to make her happy.
She pampered him in the tub, and then offered to shave him.
She made him sit with some hot towels over his face. While he
sat back with his face covered, he toyed with her nipples and
thighs gleefully.
She just about managed to keep her hand steady as she
shaved him, having perched him on the bathroom stool, the
better to see what she was doing.
Darling, if you to that to my nipple again, you might just lose
an earlobe.
Sorry, sweetheart, theyre just so glorious.
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So are you. Especially with both earlobes.

Youre doing a splendid job," he praised. "Ive never been
so pampered.
Ill need to think of a few more things to make you feel even
more so.
Hmm, after everything youve done so far, thats going to be
difficult.
Seated on the stool, his manhood jutting upwards so
suggestively, Bryonys eyes lit up. Divine inspiration led her to
kneel before him, taking his penis in her palms first before
forming a ring with the fingers of one hand. Three strokes was
more than enough to tighten the veins until he bulged with his
need for release.
She then ran the tip of her tongue along the length of him,
avoiding only the velvet helmet at the top. From base to ridge
she cherished him, then moved her mouth so that her lips
retraced the route her tongue had taken. She wrapped her arm
around the small of his back to support him, and grasping him
firmly at the base, she began to lave the edge of the ridge and
lick up to the small slit at the top
Lord in Heaven, woman, where were you raised? A
bordello? he gasped, clinging to the stool with both hands
before his now completely enervated body fell right off it.
Do you want me to finish you? she asked, already
swallowing him whole.
No, no, its lovely, but I really need to be inside you, always.
Nothing can possibly thrill me more than that.
With one last powerful suckle she rose, still clinging to his
throbbing shaft. Before he could move to prepare to leave the
bathroom, she turned her back and sat down on his lap, his
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surging manhood gliding into her as she angled herself to take

the huge deep stroke.
Bryony, oh, please, no, he cried, his voice atremble as she
reached between her legs to continue massaging his base and
now-gathered spheres. Please kiss me.
With one final pump of her hips she turned and draped her
legs over his, and kissed him with her open mouth as if she
wanted to inhale all of him. Which in fact she did, for she
dragged her mouth down his neck, chest, and shoulders,
savouring his slighty woodsy fragrance and own unique aroma.
Youre so delicious, Its all I can do not to devour you
whole.
I know how you feel. But youve never let me-
She froze in her movements. I couldnt bear it. I would just
feel such shame.
Damn. Another ghost from the past he had unearthed. You
shouldnt. I mean, you do it to me. Why?
Because he did it once or twice, and said my enjoying it just
proved what a whore I was. And how ugly I was, especially
down there, she admitted in a barely audible whisper.
Once again Michael felt the familiar sting of fury race through
him. He desperately tried to unclench his bunched fists for fear
of scaring her. So thats why she hadnt shown him her most
intimate place when he had asked, had panicked when he had
tried to kiss her stomach.
My love, the little glimpses Ive caught of you thus far tell me
that youre as breathtakingly lovely there as you are
everywhere else.
He could see her doubtful expression, so he kissed her
warmly. When he finally raised his lips he asked, Do you trust
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me?
Yes, Michael. With my life, she said without an ounce of
hesitation.
Then you need to help me.
She immediately looked alarmed
No, darling, its nothing very serious, and its not about me.
Oh, I see. She relaxed against him.
Good. Can we take this into the bedroom, please? Im going
to need you to do a bit of fetching and carrying for me.
Certainly.
As soon as he had moved back into the chair and from there
to the bed, he sat in the middle of it close to the end, his knees
at the edge of the bed, his feet dangling over the side. Can you
prop up my back with the pillows?
Gladly.
Now I need you to move the full-length mirror over here. I
know its large, but it should roll prettily easily with the casters.
Where do you want me to put it?
Over here, right at the foot of the bed.
She stared at him but did as she was told.
Now Im going to show you just how gorgeous you are. How
lovely we are together.
Her eyes widened. Oh, no, really.
He patted the mattress between his legs. Come sit up here,
love, and take off your robe.
She shook her head. No, Michael, Im sorry I ever said-
Im sorry you ever had to be married to such a bastard and
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hear such a pack of bloody lies, darling, he said with barely

concealed anger. So just please come here and trust me.
Bryony removed her silk covering and sat on the bed
tentatively. Michael immediately spread her legs gently with
both hands As he murmured in her ear, his hands began to
caress down her body, from breasts to thighs and everywhere
in between with long hypnotising strokes.
You need to take my word for this. Ive seen quite a few
women in my day. Maybe about fifty, perhaps sixty. Mostly
breasts and bottoms, of course, but occasionally, with ones
who were more than just a roll in the hay, the whole of them.
And I have done quite a bit of exploring with my hands and
watching maybe a few times with some of the more game ones,
and the ones I was sure were clean. Im not rubbing your nose
in my past, darling, believe me. I just want you to know that I do
have some basis for comparison.
Im much more experienced than you, since youve only
ever seen two men. The fact that youve only seen two, and
were a virgin the day you were married, and a decent wife the
whole time you were wed, proves youre not a whore. You also
need to believe me when I say that out of all the women I have
ever known, youre easily the most lovely woman Ive ever laid
eyes on. Inside and out.
By this time Bryonys arousal had caused her cheeks to flush
and her lips to part. Her eyes and roiling core were both limpid
with desire. When he stroked her delicate bud and inserted one
finger deeply inside her hotly welcoming body, she closed
them.
No, love, you need to keep them open so you can see
yourself, and relax. See how lovely you are in the throes of
passion and pleasure, not the pain and degradation the bastard
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put you through. Look how lovely you are, how moist and soft
and pliant, how firm, pink, supple.
Their eyes met in the mirror for a moment, and then she
looked down as he instructed.
He stroked his fingers in and out, spreading her dew until
she looked like a glorious rose in the morning sunlight. Now his
thumb moved against her with an assured stroke. Her legs fell
open further of their own accord. Look how lovely. So pretty
and delicate. Like the most elegant rose in the garden, or a
magical sea shell with a lovely little present for me inside. For
truly joining with you as one is a gift from the gods. Would you
like to see?
Bryony nodded wordlessly, licking her lips to moisten them,
for her desire had made her mouth dry even as it had flooded
her loins. He raised her up to place her on his jutting manhood.
One hand pressed her belly and mound, while his other roved
over both breasts until they crested in eager entreaty. He lifted
his hips off the bed as he filled her with a slow rhythm which
soon set off the compelling cascade of sensation which resulted
in her cataclysmic culmination. Still Bryony watched herself as
she climaxed, and grew even more aroused.
His voice was a sensual rasp which set all of her taut nerve
endings even more aquiver. Keep your eyes open, love. Watch
yourself. Look how gorgeous you are when you spasm like that.
Thats what I see when I look at you, what I feel in your arms
when you come.
Only the poets have got it wrong. Its not a little death. Its a
huge burst of life, exuberance, joy. Do you see you muscles
flexing against me? That lovely slow sensual slide in and out?
He thrust his hips in time with his words.
Thats beauty. And try as the artists and the poets have,
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they cant even being to capture one half of the beauty I see
before me.
Oh, Michael, she laughed shakily when her powerful climax
at last subsided. You can charm the birds from the trees.
He grinned cheekily at her in the mirror. Well, darling, if it
gets you to perch on my branch Im glad.
Oh, you. You can make me reach my zenith just by talking.
An interesting experiment for another time, love. But Im a
man with a mission at the moment.
She moved to caress his thighs, but he shook his head. Im
still not done. Im still trying to prove how gorgeous you are. I
want to also have a little experiment to see how wet I can get
you.
If I were any more wet I would wash off the bed, she said
ruefully.
Lets just see about that. He slid out of her and replaced his
hardness with his first two fingers. No, not good enough, he
purred. We need to change places here, with you resting your
back against the pillows. And youre still going to have to
watch.
Bryony rose from the bed for a moment whilst he slid to one
side on his hands and bottom. Then he put his hand upon her
most intimate parts again lightly. Can you see yourself from
there? he whispered against her ear.
Yes, she said, still feeling incredibly desirous and
stimulated from his lovemaking, and her being able to watch
every single little sexy detail. She was now a dusky rose colour,
engorged, and she could see his essence and the blush of love
which tinged her cheeks and lips as red as her nipples and
feminine core. She looked like a woman made for love,
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Michaels love, and it thrilled her.

Good then. He scooted over further until his head was
parallel with her legs. He lifted one over his neck and inserted
his tongue deeply within her.
Bryony immediately wriggled and tried to squirm off the bed,
but one hand held her against the pillows by her abdomen. His
thumb teased her soft nest of curls and delicate mound while
the other kept hold of the leg, pinning it into the curve of his
neck.
Just watch, he whispered against her flesh, his breath
tickling her thigh.
She clutched at his head convulsively. No, please. Its
Delicious. Delectable.
She shook her head. Disgusting.
Delightful. Divine. Like roses, and honey and some other
sweet perfume that doesnt even have a name, and certainly
cant be bought in a bottle. Can you see yourself?
He angled his head to slide down her delicate lips and cast a
glance out of the corner of his eye. His erection surged painfully
against the mattress as he caught a glimpse of them in the
mirror. Oh my, he breathed in awe.
He could see her fully, and she was pink and moist and
welcoming. Never had he seen a woman appear more well and
truly loved. But then, that was part of the game, wasnt it? To
make her look even more voluptuously wet and fulfilled?
He licked and nuzzled each side of her entrance to paradise,
while the hand which had held her leg now moved up her thigh
to press into her thrilling tight wetness.
Still not wet enough, he said softly. His fingers now began
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to exert a pressure of their own as he sought out what he

guessed to be the seats of her desire. He moved them into her
gently, and curled his fingers, then slid them deeper and
pressed down and rubbed.
A keening cry told him his conjectures had been accurate.
Her whole body vibrated against the pillows in the vise-like grip
of the most marvelous release. He replaced his fingers with his
tongue, lapping at her essence while he rubbed her bud.
His slow thrust and wiggle was enough to set her off again.
She clung to his head convulsively, her eyes never leaving their
reflection in the mirror.
At last Bryony began to believe it. It was beautiful, the love
they shared together, and Michael wanted her. Revelled in her.
Was not repelled by her because he truly loved her and
esteemed her, would never harm or degrade her.
Just gorgeous, he breathed when she had quieted once
more. But youre still not wet enough, he said with a wide grin.
She gasped in outrage and tried to lift his head and grasp his
erection. He had already swept the pillows out from behind her.
She landed on the mattress with a thud. He tugged her
sideways and pulled her upper leg until her bent knee was in
his hand.
She could see just over his elbow in the mirror her fierce
arousal. She glistened, and her entire body, her whole secret
core, was practically begging for his stroke. He now nibbled on
the arched dome at the crest of her thighs, nipping with his
teeth.
But two could play at that game. For his lingam was near
enough now that they were once more front to front for her to
taste him.
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She swirled her tongue along the smooth gap between the
ridges at the top of his cock. She took him into her mouth and
sucked hard. In an instant he was heaving her hips down to the
edge of the bed.
He poised himself between her legs with his hands and
thrust into her. He risked resting some of his weight on the floor
and found that cradled deeply inside her body and against the
bed with his knees the pain was not so excruciating.
But then nothing about being with Bryony was painful except
the thought of not making her happy. There was no doubt of
that at the moment, for she was as wet and steamy as he had
hoped she would be. Her entire skin seemed to glow with his
every touch.
He knew there was no point in holding back now. One last
thrust brought them to the absolute bliss which had he had tried
to keep at bay during their delightful foreplay.
Every ounce of rapture they had already experienced was
increased a hundred-fold as he stroked them both to climax,
until his arms gave way and he fell on top of her with a
delighted groan. He threw his head back and gave a fullthroated laugh and whoop of joy.
Bryony could not help laughing back at his exuberant
response, and gave a small whoop herself.
He squirmed and wriggled against her as he felt her chuckle,
and wheezed, Oh no, sweetheart. Please dont do that at the
minute. Its just too thrilling. I need to get back on the bed
before I fall over.
Im ready. Let me move first and Ill help you.
He raised up so she could move out from beneath him
quickly. She grasped him under the arm and pulled the lower
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half of his body up onto the bed.

She helped roll him over, and made him comfortable with
some pillows. She tried to straighten the tussled covers to make
them a cozy little nest once more.
The fire had died down in the hearth by this time, so she
went over to bank it up. She took an afghan she had made and
brought it over to the bed. She tucked one end of it around him
tenderly, then laid down by his side and drew the other half
over them both.
Thank you, Michael.
No, thank you.
Seriously, darling, I mean it. I do have to say thank you.
Youve been so patient with my foibles and fears. You make me
feel so happy, so good about myself, so confident. As if nothing
can ever hurt me.
Nothing ever will, love, I promise. But you can hardly think
you need to thank me after everything youve done to try to help
me recover. All of your patience and care has been a true gift. It
cant be easy for you at times. I mean, for one thing Im pretty
heavy, and -
I certainly havent noticed. I love the feel of you on top of
me. Like were truly one flesh, you know?
I know. Though I love a few of our other positions as well.
Then our only limitations are our imagination.
He sighed. If only. His face took on that closed off look she
had come to dread.
She kissed him tenderly. Darling, youre getting better every
day, Im sure of it. Maybe not as fast as you wish. But just think
what you were like when we first met. Or even further back, to
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just after the battle.

She hung onto him tightly as he began to tremble. And
thats another thing. Theres also been such an improvement in
your attitude. Youve had fewer nightmares and funny spells.
He shot her a grim look, and she shook her head. Im only
saying this because its made such a huge difference in things
now that youre more calm and rested.
His smile was little better than a thin line. Well, we havent
exactly been resting, have we?
No, I suppose not. Are you complaining? she countered.
No, not at all.
You have been resting. Being in bed has taken some of the
pressure off your back. Your sleep, when it does come, is
sound and peaceful. And if you want to sleep, love, you have
only to say. You dont have to impress me with your rakish tried
and tested sexual repertoire.
He scowled again. Thats not what this is about at all! he
gritted out.
Bryony kissed him. I couldnt agree more. Nor is my
lovemaking the residue of my marriage in which I was forced to
behave like a harem slave. Nor the product of any misplaced
notions of pity. When I see you naked in that bed, Michael,
there are a lot of things I feel, but pity is most certainly not one
of them.
Her sparkling eyes told him she meant every word she said.
Her smile was sultry as she sat up in the bed and moved away
from him, sitting to face him but so far away that he could not
reach her. His eyes, heavy-lidded with sleepiness, flew wide in
alarm. Are you leaving me? he gasped.
No, not at all. She flicked off the covers so that he was
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completely bare once more to her ardent gaze. I just want to

respond to your challenge. I want to see if I can get you hard or
make you climax just talking to you. Not even touching you.
She began to regale him with praise for his entire body, his
eyes, hands, and of course his manhood, cataloging each and
every part of him which made her light up like a soaring comet.
She was not the only one who began to soar as she spoke in
sultry tones.
Then she told him all of her fantasies of what she would like
to do to him, including a detailed one with some melted
chocolate, and another even more seductive one which
featured several of her silk stockings.
As she began to wax lyrical about the different positions she
could take him in, the things she could do to him with her mouth
and hands and some strawberry jam, she began to move her
own fingers against her glistening flesh in a teasing rhythm
which matched the tempo of her wicked recital.
As her breath became more reedy and the blush of
rampaging desire once more crept all over her glorious body,
Michael made a choking sound. Oh no, Im going to-
She moved quickly onto him and rode the crest of his
passion until they both gasped their last. Then she dragged the
bedclothes over them once more and nestled herself against
his side.
Unable to even move his head for a kiss, he slept the
dreamless sleep of absolute fulfillment.
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Chapter Twenty-nine
Michael and Bryony spent a busy week at Blake and
Arabellas house with Ash and Eswara, discussing their future
plans and paying visits.
Blake took them around to meet his relations, his two pretty
blonde-haired cousins Ellen and Georgina, and his dark-haired
cousin Samuel.
Martin will be sorry to have missed you, Samuel said with a
smile. He was referring to his handsome but grim-faced brother,
who had lost his brand new bride a few years before in the
most tragic circumstances, and had never been the same
since.
Ellen Jerome hung back shyly from the two new men, and
left the room shortly after the introduction. Georgina remained,
however, and flirted with all three men in the most shameless
way which set Bryonys teeth on edge.
But Bryony noticed the pretty young miss never once looked
directly into the eyes of the two men confined to wheelchairs. In
fact, when Ash began to play at her own game and flirt back,
she too found a pretext to leave and departed in a hurry.
They got on better at the Stones, where Blakes other
cousin Josephine was married to the youngest brother Henry.
Clifford was one of the original Rakehells, as I told you.
Tomorrow we shall go see Thomas and his wife Charlotte,
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Michael said to her on their way to Stone Court.

The Elthams were delighted to have them at the Castle, and
there was nearly a full Rakehell reunion, for Philip Marshall was
just down from Oxford for a half-term reading holiday.
Bryony stared at the huge dark-haired man and shuddered.
He reminded her so much of her former husband it was
uncanny. Philip too had been a rake of the first order, shed
been told, and yet he was so excessively devoted to his lovely
blond-haired wife Jasmine that it was a wonder he didnt just sit
in her lap all the time.
She found herself almost envying them as she watched the
happy couple, expecting their first child in a matter of days.
Michael was a lot of things, but affectionate and demonstrative
with her outside of the bedroom was not one of them.
Thats not to say he cant learn how to be, Eswara pointed
out when Bryony saw her looking at the Marshalls.
Bryony wondered how she could have known....
Mr. Marshall has been in a very, very dark place. She
brought him back into the light. Dont ever envy them. Just as
she would never envy you the struggle youve had to attain your
present happiness.
Bryony looked around the lovely Wedgewood blue sitting
room at Eltham Castle, and sighed. Attaining is one thing.
Keeping is another.
Yes, but just because you were disappointed once doesnt
mean you will be again. Sometimes we create our own
monsters, due a lack of trust, or our fears.
She looked carefully at her friend. I get the feeling youre
trying to tell me something. So come on, out with it.
That you have the power, Bryony. You just need to be able
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to learn to use it wisely. Love can hurt, or heal. Youve healed.

Be careful with the rest.
Has Michael healed me? she wondered aloud.
Ah, now you are starting to see it. You need to make him
see it too. Trust it. Right now the poor man is terrified, and cant
confide his fears.
What does he
Himself, more than you. And what you create together. And
might create if youre not careful. Do I need to remind you about
your monthlies?
She blushed. No, but
If you want more children, you need to talk about it. I would
wait, though. You still have much unresolved in both your pasts.
I can give you
All right, yes. Thank you, Eswara, she said, blushing.
Sponges. Excellent for both monthlies and as a barrier to
conception soaked in vinegar, brandy or lemon juice if you use
them faithfully.
Gosh, you know so much.
She sighed and shook her head. More than I wish to at
times, child, believe me.
Bryony smiled at the golden-eyed woman gratefully. Thank
you for looking after me. Youve done more for me than my own
mother.
Youre my spiritual daughter, Bryony. I want to see you
happy. You just need to be patient and honest. Tell each other
what you need and wish for. The rest will fall into place.
I try, she said with a sigh, but its just so difficult.
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So youre telling me its easier to swive with Michael than

talk honestly about your personal relations, or what makes you
happy? she said with one quirked eyebrow.
Eswara!
Well, its true. Why it is harder to talk about sexual
intercourse in this society than it is to simply do it?
Bryony laughed then, and shook her head. I dont know. Its
a mystery to me. Just get me those sponges.
She went over to Michael, who was staring at her in silent
inquiry as to what she found so amusing. In full view of all of his
friends she sat on his lap and kissed him.
If anyone found it shocking, they said not a word, but
Michael was uncomfortable with public displays of affection,
and the presumption that he would want everyone to know how
matters stood between them. Not that he ever wanted another
woman, but he did want at least a modicum of control over his
own life.
He was even more galled when Bryony spoke to him about
being more careful in future.
Are you saying you dont ever want any children with me?
he barked in the privacy of his downstairs room at Blakes the
following night. Armed with his protectors in the pocket of his
robe, it was no less than what he had been about to tell her, but
somehow it still rankled.
No, Im saying now is not the right time for either of us. Not
when things are still so unsettled. And not until we both feel
were ready. For all I know you might view the arrival of a child
with just as much trepidation as I do at the moment.
He gritted his teeth and said nothing.
She showed him her sponges and said, Please, dont be
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angry. I promise you, if they're really horrible and you dont like
them, we can find something else
You dont need to be in control all the time, he said gruffly,
pushing her questing hand away.
She frowned, hurt. Neither do you.
Perhaps I do. Maybe its the only thing that makes me bear
the unbearable, he snapped.
I can understand
No, you cant. No one can! And even living through this, Im
not sure I really do.
She began to walk away. All right, Ill leave you then.
No, wait
She turned to face him once more. Im sorry if I upset you. If
I pushed too hard. Maybe you were right all along and this is a
mistake. That we have no future together. That its all just
proximity, not really anything special between us.
He rasped, Now I never said
She gazed at him levelly. Its all right. Youve thought it. I
understand that. Ive wondered myself, if were being absolutely
honest with each other.
He scowled. And what conclusion did you come to?
She shrugged. It doesnt matter, obviously.
It does to me! Michael shouted. Otherwise I wouldnt have
asked.
She sighed. Im going to bed.
Damn it, Bryony, dont just
And dont order me around as if Im some servant! Or your
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paid mistress! she hissed. If I come to you in bed its because

I want to be there with you. Its a gift of myself. But with the
mood youre in at the moment, I cant even talk to you.
He groaned, seeing he truly had pushed her too far. That he
was pushing her away, almost as if to prove she would really
leave him one day and just trying to get it over with.
Maybe we just talk too much. Perhaps if I just let myself
feel... But Im, well, frightened to, he confessed.
Because I think youre going to leave me, Bryony. And even
if we were married, that would be no guarantee that you would
stay. Besides, maybe you should leave. I feel like such a selfish
brute. I want you so much, love, I cant think straight half the
time. Oh God, there Ive said it now. Im sorry. I want to control
you in order to stop you tiring of me, growing resentful of all
youve done when Ive give you so little.
She shook her head incredulously. So little, darling? But
youve give me everything. And you have a lot to learn about
control.
She removed her robe and he stared wide-eyed as she got
into the bed and reclined, spreading her legs invitingly. Well,
darling, you said you wanted to be in control. Ill be your sex
slave, cater to your every whim. You can lie right on top of me,
love, and take me over and over again as much as you want,
as eagerly as you like. I want you to pin me down with your hot,
hard hips and take me right here and now. Ravish me with your
devastatingly wonderful strokes until I cant even pant your
name.
He moved to do as she asked, and she gave a small smile.
Now tell me who was in control just then. You or me?
His mouth was so dry with desire he had a hard time finding
his tongue. You.
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And whos in control now? she said, dipping her hand to

touch herself, so that he groaned with need as he struggled to
get out of his clothes by himself.
He could scarcely tear his eyes away from her lush ripe
charms as she continued to stroke her inner thighs and one
breast. Still he struggled with his clothes and had to admit she
was right. Sometimes it did help if she was in control, or at least
assisted him. She most certainly knew how to excite him almost
to the limits of his endurance.
But she wasnt doing it to hurt him or be selfish, she was
doing it to please him. Everything she did was for him and him
alone. He realised what a fool hed been. He had never done
anything for her to make her feel special, arrange any little
treats for her, make her feel pampered and spoiled as she had
for him.
He didnt have to control her, for he might as well try to
harness the wind or the tides. All he had to do was love and
cherish her. He would have to make her feel the centre of his
world, stop being so blindly selfish and willful. Well, all of that
was going to change just as soon as he could manage to think
clearly once more.
Darling, can you wait for me, please? he gasped. Give me
a hand here?
Ill even give you two.
She got off the bed as languidly as a sun-warmed cat and
reached for him.
He grabbed her damp hand and sucked one finger hard,
then thrust it into his lap to spread her opalescent dew all over
his raging tip. He pulled her on top of him, facing away,
impaling her feminine core with one sure thrust she could feel
right up to the crown of her head. But when he tried to pin her
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hips she wriggled and squirmed. Only his fingers on her tight
little nub of desire and one throbbing breast quelled her
struggles to set the tempo.
She let the pure pleasure plummet through her and cried out
his name. He turned her head up and sideways to kiss her
before running his hand once more over both breasts. His own
climax kept pace with hers as they both shivered and at last
were completely drained and utterly still.
Im sorry, so sorry, love, he murmured, punctuating each
word by kissing her mouth heatedly over and over again.
Sorry? she questioned softly, before deepening the kiss.
I dont want to fight, dont want to hurt you. I want to do the
noble thing and give you up. But the truth is Im a selfish swine.
I want you with me forever and a day.
Its a bargain then. I want the same thing. But if thats what
you really want, we have to renegotiate the terms of my
employment, oh lord and master.
He stiffened slightly. All right, he conceded.
She nibbled his neck, making his head swim. The first new
term is that you never, ever try to send me out of your bed
again. The second is that you never ever speak to me about
being noble and giving me up for my own good. You are my
good, Michael, now and always. Youve given me my sons, a
home, and dare I say it, love.
Yes, love, he sighed, holding her close. Im scared of it, I
have to admit. But my love for you is strong enough to make
me overcome that fear.
And any others you may have? she asked quietly.
He sighed and shook his head. Not yet, but one day. I will
try.
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Thats all ask. And if you are ever afraid of this, this magic
between us, she said planting her hand on the back of the one
cupping her breast, you need to tell me. Well talk it over
and
Talk, he laughed. I think sometimes you can read my
mind.
I wish you could read mine so you would know I truly to do
love you.
In time. Its like music. You need to listen for a time to hear
it. Grasp its true beauty.
She raised herself off him long enough to settle in his lap
facing him and kissed him full on the mouth.
Listen, and feel. And know.
Yes, he agreed. Indulge all my five senses, and arrive at
the truth. The trouble is I lose all my senses as soon as you
touch me.
Lose them? Or is it that they just swirl so much you cant
separate them out?
Both.
Hmm. Powerful? she asked, placing her palms on his face
lovingly.
Very. Frightening and beautiful too, he admitted.
Then you have your answer.
A slight frown marred his handsome face. To which
question?
She smiled softly. All of them.
Michael caressed her lingeringly down the curve of her back.
As he began to make love to her all over again, he prayed
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Bryony was right.
Chapter Thirty
The end of the week brought them home to Bath. When the
carriage pulled up to the front of the house, Michael stared
open-mouthed. What on earth?
There was a new paved path that led straight up the small
hill to the house, straight as a die and with a gradual incline
right down to the new gate. Part of it was open and clear; the
other part had two waist-high bars on either side.
Bryony, what is all this? he asked, more stunned than
angry.
I had some workmen in to make a few adjustments to the
house to make you a bit more independent. Do you want to try
to wheel yourself up the path?
He nodded eagerly, then frowned. But first I have to get out
of the carriage.
Simms and Robin now came out with a new contraption
which enabled him to raise and lower himself out of the carriage
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in a chair narrow enough to slot in through the door.

We just have to remove part of one seat in the coach. Its
the only thing I didnt do because I wanted to surprise you. And
look, the chairs front, back and sides come off, so you can
manoeuvre in and out of it more easily, and here are two
brakes to hold it steady.
Once Michael was on the ground he went up the path, the
boys happily running up ahead of him shouting encouragement.
Where the steps into the house had once been there stood a
ramp, and there were handles either side of the door to help
him pull through the rest of the way.
As he entered the house, he gaped. Bryony, the staircase!
The steep staircase split off into two had been gutted and
replaced with a single sweeping one which was effectively three
sides of a rectangle with the incomplete fourth side the bottom
of the stair. It had a curved balustrade upon which a platform
attached to a gear system had been installed.
Go on, try it.
Michael studied it for a moment, then wheeled his chair onto
the platform and cranked the first lever. It raised off the ground
about a foot, and then he turned the handle and began to
ascend up the stairs with a sweep. One firm turn of the handle,
and he was already half way up to the first landing.
He had never been so moved in his life, and thrilled at the
sensation as he rose upwards to the next floor of the house on
his own steam, with the boys again accompanying him upwards
on their own little legs.
Once upstairs in Bryonys suite of rooms, he saw she had
transformed them yet again, stripping the curtains and shutters
from the bay window and placing the curtained four-poster bed
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in it. She had taken away some of the more exotic decor in
deference to him. All the pictures were gone, and there wasnt a
trace of the silk or incense she had favoured.
His heart sank a bit. He was sorry now he had been so
critical of the little things which had obviously given her
pleasure, and moved that she was so willing to defer to his
tastes in the room she was evidently hoping they would share.
But she seemed not to repine for what had been lost as she
gave him a small smile. Come look at our new study, she
invited.
A second window had been added in the smaller of the two
rooms, which had been redecorated in more masculine colours,
wine and gold, with nary a feminine or exotic cushion or throw
in sight. The desk had been put in the new window and there
was no longer a four-poster but a day bed. He was delighted
with the chambers, but somehow he wondered if they were not
too cold and devoid of Bryonys own personality considering he
hoped her intention was to share them with him.
Her final surprise inside the house was the crank system on
a platform for him to be able to get in and out of the tub on his
own.
So this is what all of you were up to when everyone came to
visit.
Sorry to disappoint you. No orgies after all. She winked
broadly.
He blushed at her words, which were so close to what he
had suspected foolishly.
Disappointed, no, never. This is wonderful. Thank you. I
cant tell you what this means to me. He reached for her, and
kissed her hand.
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She smiled back at him, elated that he liked her surprise,

and had not acted self-conscious in the least about the new
living aids. You know Im more than happy to do whatever you
need me to, but you might feel better not being so dependent
on me all the time.
And you? It would make it easier to not have me clinging.
Easier to not feel guilty if you left, he said quietly.
She knelt to kiss him. Im not leaving you, ever, except to go
shopping, and now you can come with me whenever you like.
No, this is our room now, our suite, if you would care to share it
with me.
Yes, I'm more than willing to share. But you didnt have to
get rid of all your pictures just for me.
Ill do anything to make you happy.
He kissed her hand again, then tugged her into his lap for a
more thorough appreciation. You do. You dont have to give up
parts of yourself to do that.
She shrugged. Its all about compromise. Anyway, youre
not angry? I mean, it was a bit presumptuous of me, and I am
after all only a servant
Stop it, right now. Youre never to say that again," he
scolded. "You tell me when, and well go to Jonathan and be
married. As for being angry, how can I be? All this is a gift of
love I could never even hope to match.
Im glad you like it, she said simply. Why dont we see how
the bathtub system works?
He grinned wolfishly. With pleasure.
The following day she got him out of bed at last, and
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unveiled the mechanical horse she had put down in his old
bedchamber downstairs, then brought him out into the stable
yard, which had been fully paved so that his wheels would not
get jammed in the mud.
One of the most steady geldings had been trained by Jim the
stable lad to stand still as the device for getting him into the
new support saddle was used. Michael balked a bit, but after
watching Robin the valet try it successfully, he agreed to have a
go.
He worked the levers to raise himself up, and then slid one
leg over. Jim and Robin stood on either side and quickly
adjusted the stirrups to their masters legs.
The mechanical horse will help build the muscles again, so
youll be able to ride more comfortably. How does it feel?
A bit strange, he admitted. I cant really tell until I start to
move.
Jim led him around the yard in a wider and wider and faster
circle.
Bryony could see Michael's fear even as his smiled at the
exhilaration of it all. He shivered, and she could sense he was
being reminded of the war.
But he held up one hand to wave to her and smiled, and
spent another five minutes trotting under the sunshine in the
brisk spring air, until he proclaimed himself exhausted, and
started to come back down as easily as he had mounted.
Well done.
Yes, not bad at all, he said, kissing her on the cheek. Well
done to you. This is pretty remarkable. And the saddle.
Lets not forget the carriage device.
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He looked up at her. Im a bit weary now, but in a couple of

days we can go to Bath. Id like to thank Ash and Eswara for
their help. I know they must have had a hand in this, so dont
even try to deny it.
Yes, they did, and Blake.
I shall have to write and thank him, and ask him to come
see me ride. And even hunt.
She stared at him. Hunt? But you
I know. But I did enjoy it. To eat, of course, not just mindless
slaughter. I dont promise to eat it myself, but the fresh air will
do me good. To tell you the truth, Ive lived with a gun or sword
in my hands for so long, it almost feels like a part of me is
severed.
Oh, Michael, she said, hugging him to her. Im so sorry.
He patted her on the shoulder. There's nothing to be sorry
for. Youve tried to help in every way possible. More than you
could ever know, my dear. There are just going to be some
things I have to do on my own. But you understand that, hence
all your hard work.
Anything you want to talk about, though, Im always here to
listen.
He kissed her hand and stroked her cheek. He was so loving
towards her for the rest of the day that Bryony knew Eswara
was right. The more she was demonstrative with him, the more
affectionate he was in return.
Occasionally it spilled over into passion, but as they worked
at the desk side by side, his left hand holding hers as they
wrote with their right, Bryony was sure she had never been so
happy in her life.
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Chapter Thirty-one
Michael was delighted with his surprise gifts, motivated as
they were by love, not pity, and he determined to make Bryony
even more happy than she clearly already was.
A couple of visits to Ash and Eswara, and a shopping
expedition with Robin the valet, secured him all the items on his
new friends list.
He had told them he wanted to give Bryony a night she
would never forget, and studied Ashs drawings avidly. He took
the herbs they gave him and made Bryony give him some
extra-vigorous massages twice every day whilst he planned his
special night of romance down to the smallest detail.
He got her out of the house a week later, telling her to take
tea with her friends, and then he and the servants set about
preparing the surprise.
When Bryony entered the room she found it was lit up like
the night sky, with hundreds of candles flickering, making the
room glow like a magical cave for two. The bed hangings had
been changed, and were now a dark navy silk shot through with
gold, as was the bedspread.
The sheets were turned down invitingly. A single red rose
punctuated the line of gold and sapphire silk-covered pillows in
all shapes and sizes. The room was redolent with a warm spicy
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smell, and there were small bowls of lavender and other dried
flowers all over the room.
On the table, which had been set up within easy reach of the
bed, a sumptuous feast had been spread, including champagne
and oysters, bread, cheese and fruit, a few exotically spiced
Indian dishes, some chocolate mousse and some red grapes.
He was sitting in his new chair with only the back still
fastenind, clad in naught but a black silk robe, and an intent
smile.
Michael, she breathed, its lovely.
Forgive me for not trying to be more romantic, make you
feel more appreciated as well, my lover, not just a wife, mother
or housekeeper.
What do you mean, just? Those things are all important
facets of me.
True, but you are first and foremost the woman I love.
Youve done so much for me I cant even begin to try to repay
you. He took her hand and kissed it.
She smiled at him gently. You make it sound as if I were
being entirely selfless. I can promise you I wasnt. Ive had
ample compensation.
Still, I want you to have it all tonight. Starting now.
Bryony held breathlessly still as Michael began to unfasten
her dark blue gown slowly, taking his sweet time, until she
ached for his touch.
But he made sure his fingers did not brush her sensitive
flesh, so that when he finally reached up to stroke her cheek
and then brought both his hands shimmering down at the same
time over her back and front from neck to buttocks and her
delicate curls, she was already shivering with passion.
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He gave a little nudge and her knees hit the edge of the bed.
She sat down with a thump and he spread her legs wide. He
began to explore her with a thoroughness which had her
begging him to enter her.
But he laughed throatily and said, No, this is all yours. You
can touch yourself too if you like, show me where youre most
sensitive. But I have a few ideas of my own to try. And did I
happen to mention Ive told the servants to look after the
children because were not to be disturbed for forty-eight
hours?
Her eyes flew open. Oh, Michael, you didnt.
I most certainly did.
She blushed.
Nothing wrong with a little honeymoon, darling.
She tried to sit up, but his hard hand on her stomach soon
had her purring with delight. Just when she thought she couldnt
be any more thrilled, he brought up his other hand and moved
one finger.
Oh, Michael! Oh Lord, what did you
Hah, it works. He grinned in triumph.
Bryony was sure she was caught in the throes of the most
powerful climax she had ever yet had. For over two minutes,
she bucked, moaned and screamed, and all the while Michael
sat and gazed at her, his pale blue eyes burning with the most
fierce intensity. Always his fingers were moving, teasing,
bringing her on more as he gave her what Eswara had told him
was a yoni massage.
Finally she blew out a shaky breath. Oh Michael, that was,
well She shook her head.
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Youre incredible, he whispered, his voice a deep sultry

baritone. I get so hard just looking at you. I want to crawl right
up inside you and never ever be separated from you. Even
when Im inside you, I feel that little heartbeat of yours within, all
the torrential passion, and I explode with joy.
Yet even as I spill inside you, I still want more and more. I
get so excited just being in a room with you, watching you. The
light sway of your breasts as you walk, the swing of your hips. I
want to pull you into my lap and have you ride me like the wind.
I see you under me, your rosebud lips moist and panting, your
gorgeous shoulders and those dusky nipples that fit so perfectly
into my mouth. I want to take you over and over again until you
cant feel anything but me inside you driving you to your
pinnacle.
I see you glistening like this just for me, your gorgeous little
pouting lips dying to be kissed, he said, bending his head
forward, and illustrating his words with a long lingering lick, and
I feel like I want to devour you whole.
She felt herself completely afire at the intensity of his words
and the depth of the emotion behind them. She had been
frightened too of the torrid heat between them, but there was
nothing violent or cruel here. It was the worshipful loving she
had discussed with Ash and Eswara.
And now it was on Michaels lips, and his were on hers. She
felt truly adored and cherished for the first time ever. She could
believe at last that she was worthy of love, and could love
without fear herself.
Michael began to nibble and suck each of her outer lips in
turn. He toyed with her inner lips and the entrance to her
paradise with his index finger, whilst rubbing his thumb along
her tight little whorl.
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Just when she thought she couldnt bear it any more, he

moved his other hand and inserted his middle finger and curled
it, still circling with his other finger and nibbling and suckling.
She could feel all of her flesh distending, saturating, and she
lost track of how many times she climaxed.
Oh, Michael, its too good, she gasped.
No such thing. Youre gorgeous. Delectable. Youre
delicious, and deserve everything I can do to pamper you.
Anything you want.
All of you. Every blessed inch, she panted.
Are you sure youre ready for me?
What? she asked in disbelief, remembering their night in
front of the mirror. She was sure she was not going to be able
to bear this more than another second.
Are you sure youre wet enough? I think we can make you
even more
Oh no, Michael, please, I really am ready, she whimpered,
clutching at his hair almost painfully in a frantic effort to drag
him on top of her. Please.
Show me. Spread yourself even wider.
Bryony was so needy she was willing to play any game
Michael liked so long as he got into bed with her.
Wider. Bend you knees. No, still not glistening and
engorged enough.
She thought she had been thrilled before, but the act of utter
ravishment with his mouth which followed sent her soaring to
the point where she couldnt even sob his name.
And all the while his finger kept circling her entrance and
dipping in, until he introduced a second finger and then a third
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and curled them before spreading them to rub her inner

muscles front and back.
Her face flooded with colour. She was certain she would not
be able to hold her rapidly rising passion a moment longer.
He parted his robe and pulled her into his lap. He held her by
her bottom, making her straddle both sides of his thighs with
her knees on the seat of his new wheelchair, which he had
removed the sides to.
He teasingly lowering her onto his pulsing erection. He was
huge with arousal, so that despite her completely moistened
state she could barely fit him.
He raised her up and down maddeningly on just the huge
velvety tip. Up, down and then around and back and forth he
moved against her hot slickness.
Just when Bryony was about to yank one of his hands to get
him to let go of her buttocks so she could slide down onto the
vast length of him, he flipped her backwards onto the bed and
lunged forward up and out of the chair right onto her and the
bed.
He drove into her with long strokes in the most primitive and
uncontrollable rhythm they had ever yet shared.
She clung to him as they spurred each others ardour to
breaking point. The cataclysmic climax reverberated through
him both and came rebounding back.
Her eyes widened. Michael, its not possible
But he was already hardening again, plunging and pulsing
into her, rubbing her delicate bud as he cradled himself in her
compellingly rippling body.
He drove her on until she was utterly spent, and at last, with
near-boneless limbs, she helped roll him over onto the bed and
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got him most of the way into it.

He reached for her nipples and brushed them lightly with his
thumbs, before taking them into his hands and positioning
himself to suckle them.
Oh, Michael, we cant. Im exhausted.
He flashed her a cheeky grin. Pardon me? We still have
about forty-five hours to go. Just let me get my second wind,
love, and a bit of that champagne.
His flesh stirred upwards toward the ceiling even as she
stared at him. Oh no, you cant be
I can, and shall. So, darling, he said in a throaty purr as he
reached for the bottle and began to uncork it deftly, after the
champagne, what would you like next?
She was still panting heavily, but managed to say, Well,
love, why dont you just surprise me.
He looked at her intently. So long as you know whatever we
do tonight is done with love, and that I have never, ever shared
anything like our times together with anyone else, not ever.
She brushed the tousled hair out of his eyes and nodded. I
know. Youve already told me. Here. And here. She pointed at
her head, then heart.
And what am I thinking now?
Bryony met his eyes candidly and smiled. That you have
some very interesting uses for that champagne, and the
chocolate mousse.
He nodded. Isnt love grand? Now I dont even have to do
something so mundane with my mouth as speak.
With a wicked smile, Michael poured a drizzle of the
sparkling wine into her navel and over her mound, and
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pounced.
Her squeal and long delighted groan told him mundane be
damned.
Their forty-eight hours became ninety-six, seventy-two of
them exploring every inch of each others flesh inside and out,
and a day to recover from the sybaritic bliss they had subjected
each other to.
Bryony had let go of her need to be helpful and let him take
her wherever he wanted to go like a feather being wafted on the
wind.
Once Michael had got over his need to be in control, he had
let their passion take them wherever it would. No part of each
other remained unexplored.
As Bryony had told him when they had first met, every part
of the body could be the seat of the most incredible pleasure,
from the tops of their ears to the tips of their toes.
He held her tenderly after they awakened on the fourth
morning and decided to face the world at last. Snuggled in each
others arms listening to the rain pattering on the roof, Michael
was sure he had never felt so happy.
Me neither, she murmured sleepily against his cheek.
Michael started, certain he hadnt spoken the words aloud.
He tried again.
Once again, she replied. I love you too, Michael. I always
have, from the moment you opened the door at Blakes and I
fell into your arms.
He did it once more, just to prove he wasnt imagining things.
Yes, Michael, if you like we can go today and see Jonathan
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about the ceremony. If youre sure.

Yes, darling, she said after a time, of course Im sure. I
wouldnt say yes otherwise.
He kissed her on the mouth, and then he heard it for certain.
Yes, Michael, if youre not too tired. Oh, I adore it when you
touch me like that.
Like that?
Mmm, lovely.
Mmm, I agree. You are.
And you. Mmmm.
Tired as he was, Michael was sure their lovemaking had
never been more splendid. For truly they were two halves of a
whole, and he swore he would spend the rest of his life making
her happy.
He wondered how much she knew and could see, hear...
Whatever the sense was that seemed to unite them as one.
Or was it all of the senses? He wasnt sure, and was almost
frightened at times of the beauty of what they shared, the
miracle of their love.
Even in the cold light of day, going about their more prosaic
chores, clothing themselves, feeding the boys, going through
their correspondence, it was still there, just on the edge of his
consciousness.
To love her and to be loved was Michaels whole world. No
part of his life did not touch upon Bryony in some way. He
almost dreaded having to do anything which separated him
from her.
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But to live in fear of losing her was not something he could

be happy with either. He just had to trust to fate that all would
be well.
Bryony felt almost the same, except she did not let her fears
get the better of her. She blossomed with Michaels love, and
did not even try to analyse the link they had formed, the
incredible bond forged by their endurance, faith and love.
She could see what had haunted him and had shuddered
and trembled, wept in pity for him. But she also saw the visions
fading, and she hoped that soon they would vanish into the
mists of time.
One vision she did see clearly though, and that was his fear
of losing her. A tiny prickle of foreboding filled her, but Bryony
pushed it to the back of her mind. To worry about it was to
damage all they had. She was not going to let her in-laws ruin
any more of her life than theyd done already.
A week after their magical night in their new bower of bliss,
on the day of the spring equinox, Bryony and Michael looked
deeply into each other's eyes and nodded. They knew it was
time.
They completed their morning chores, had breakfast,
dressed with care in a fine pearl gray gown and suit, and then
donned their outer clothing.
They left the boys behind, promising to see them soon; it
was too long a journey, and both a joyous and solemn
occasion, given the enormity of the commitment they were
about to undertake.
Michael ordered the carriage around, and they headed for
Brimley vicarage, wordlessly locked in an embrace so intimate
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that they could feel their hearts beating in time.

Jonathan and his pretty wife Pamela were delighted to see
them, and knew at once why they had come.
Within an hour of their arrival Michael and Bryony were
exchanging vows with voices trembling with emotion.
He slipped the simple gold band on her finger with the air of
a man who had no doubts in the world now. No matter what
had happened in both their pasts, love would conquer all.
Bryony's heart surged when she promised to love, honor,
cherish, and obey, in sickness and in health. She didn't care if
Michael never walked again. All she wanted was for him to
know she meant every word of her vows, and that their forever
stretched out before them like a vista of endless possibilities
thanks to their love.
They had saved one another that fateful All Hallow's Eve
night, and now as the spring sunshine poured in through the
mullioned windows of the vicarage, they could see nothing but
a bright future for them all, one they would face together with
courage and love.
She took the matching ring he had purchased, and slipped it
onto his broad left ring finger. "And with all my worldly goods, I
thee endow. For they are all yours anyway, darling," she sad
with a sniff, "and as for my heart, well, you won that the
moment we met."
"And it's the only treasure worth having. All else is dross," he
said, his eye glistening with tears as he gazed up at her. "Even
if we ever lost both our gold rings, it's what's in here that
counts."
He put his hand on the left side of his chest and then
reached out to place hers there as well. "You have my heart for
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all time, and though I don't deserve you, I swear here and now
before God, I will spend the rest of my days trying to make you
as happy as you've made me. And thanking him daily for
sparing us all that fateful night we met in that dreadful storm."
"Amen," everyone in the room echoed at once.
"And now I pronounce you man and wife," Jonathan said,
dashing a tear from his eye with the back of one hand.
Michael kissed his new bride with a passionate frenzy that
had even the worldly vicar blushing.
Then there were congratulations all around, and Jonathan
and his wife Pamela tried to persuade them to at least take
some refreshment.
But they both politely declined, and insisted they had to head
home soon.
I have all I need here, Michael said, grasping her hand
firmly.
You should have told Blake and Arabella, Jonathan said.
Its all right. Everyone expected it anyway. We didnt want to
make a fuss.
Do tell Alexander and Sarah, wont you?
He nodded. We will. In fact, well go now. I need to tell him
all about the wonderful progress on the dictionary anyway. And
well see Blake on the way back.
Well, congratulations to you both. Long life and happiness,
Pamela said with a smile, her husband echoing her sentiments.
All the gods willing, they both said firmly.
After paying their calls and agreeing to see Alexander and
Blake for some hunting regularly now that he was so proficient
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at riding in his new saddle, Michael and Bryony were alone

once more in the carriage.
Thank you, darling. It was a lovely wedding.
I still feel badly that you never even had any cake or flowers
or
She took his hand and smiled up at him. I have everything I
want or need right here. You know that.
And we have to tell Ash and Eswara.
They know.
He stared. What do you mean?
Like Jonathan said, everyone knew we were made for each
other. You were just being so stubbornly noble thinking to give
me up.
Never again, he said with a grin. Im going to enjoy you
selfishly for as long as I can for the rest of our lives, barring
illness and pregnancy of course.
I cant tell you how delighted I am to hear it. And do you
suppose you can give me a yoni massage again as long as we
have a while to spare?
With pleasure, Mrs. Avenel.
Thank you so much, Mr. Avenel. Im ever so grateful.
Really? How grateful?
Her lips curved into a sultry smile as she began to unfasten
his trousers and bent her head.
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Chapter Thirty-two
Michaels request to his friend Alistair Grant for advice on
Bryonys predicament with her in-laws did not go unanswered.
He was a busy man, but also thorough and seldom
precipitate. He had sent some private investigators to Wales,
and delved into the Dalrymple affairs as best he could whilst
still maintaining the element of secrecy.
There were no real surprises. The estate was badly
encumbered, but with the right husbanding of resources, it
could be got back on its feet and made to turn a tidy profit.
He proposed getting rid of all unnecessary drains upon the
estate, which included Derek and his mother, who had no rights
under the will of Bryony's deceased husband, and appointing
an incorruptible steward and a whole new set of staff.
They would take over en masse so as to retain the element
of surprise, and not give the Dalrymples or their servants any
time to thieve any more than they already had since she had
left and their excesses had remained unchecked.
Alistair was organising the appropriate people, and thought
he would be ready to move by the end of the month. Once the
new staff and steward were in charge of the household, they
could see precisely how bad things had become since Bryony
had fled, and decide what to do for the best.
Bryony was delighted with the scheme when she read
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through the letter, but fearful too. I'm very grateful for all you've
done, but we both know there could be consequences. It will be
opening up a Pandoras box of trouble, she warned, her ebony
brows knitting.
But Alistair assures us that no one shall know where you
are.
Still, it will make Derek look for me all the more.
That may well be true, but you now have a new husband
who loves you more than life itself, and powerful friends. He
took her hand and kissed it.
Thank you. But I still think...
At this point you have nothing to lose. Nothing will happen
to Darren and Gavin. I give you my word.
She wanted to believe him, but all the same she was
uneasy.
Yet she remained silent, for she knew she was doing it out of
love for her and the boys. Their sons, for so he had begun to
introduce them proudly to everyone they met.
The rest of the evening was spent going over the papers
Alistair had sent, and she understood the terms of her
guardianship over Darren.
The lawyer had been slapdash and given her carte blanche.
Her brother-in-law Derek could try to interfere, but he would
need money to contest the terms.
That he did not have unless he could find someone willing to
advance it to him in the hopes that he would prevail. If anything
were to happen to her, though...
Michael, would you please come in here for a moment?
she asked him the next morning.
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Of course my dear, he said, wondering why she was

summoning him into the study when he was eventually going to
go there anyway.
I want to ask you a huge favour. Well, you and the
Rakehells. I want Alistair to draw up papers stating that in the
event of my untimely demise before the boys attain their
majority, that you shall all look after them. A majority vote would
prevail in cases of any extreme importance.
His brows shot up. But my love
I know of no men more decent and upright than you and
your friends. Im certain that Thomas and Blake in particular will
always be scrupulously fair and honest. I know you have doubts
about your own abilities and health, and indeed any of us can
be taken at a moment's notice."
"Bryony, really, it's not like you to be so morbud"
"I'm just being practical. We're a family now, but we're also
mere mortals. The boys love you, and we hope we have a long
and happy life together, but in the event that we don't, I would
like to plan for any contingency now."
Yes, I understand all this, he said, trying to subdue the chill
finger of fear stroking down his back. Are you trying to tell me
something? he asked after a time, his voice dropping to a low
murmur.
She shook her head, understanding what he was asking her.
No, not at all," she said truthfully. "I'm hearty and completely
well. It simply occurs to me that if were opening up this can of
worms, we need to think about all of the implications.
Alistair wont proceed if youre not one hundred percent
certain about this, he reminded her quietly.
No, youre right. Darren should have a choice about his own
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future. And I need to sever all ties with the Dalrymples now, or
they will never leave him alone, always be a burden, a thorn in
his side for the rest of his life.
All right, well do whatever you want in order for you to feel
safe and secure, he said, drawing her into the circle of his
arms as though he would never let her go.
Bryony tried to tell herself that all would be well, that she and
the boys were safe. But she knew her former in-laws far too
well to think that anything but trouble would ensue once they
were cast out of the castle by Alistair Grant and the courts.
She shivered with dread and clung to Michael, seeking
oblivion in his embrace, praying love would push back the
darkness for them all.
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Chapter Thirty-three
More glorious days and night passed, and the fine spring
weather lulled her into a false sense of security. The deep
abiding love she and Michael shared made Bryony feel almost
invincible. If Michael didnt make any more significant
improvements in his mobility that she could see, nevertheless
he was an exceptionally devoted lover, with a breathtaking skill
and imagination which only improved over time as he became
more sure of her feelings, and she of his.
She ought to have resented his increased socialising with his
friends, riding out hunting, fishing and even going out shopping
and to tea, but she was glad to see him ending his self-imposed
and gloomy isolation.
In the evenings they had to attend one Rakehell social
function or another, which made their time alone together all the
more poignant. She wondered how she had ever enjoyed such
empty pursuits, but Michaels love of music was a balm to his
soul, so she endured.
Most of the time. During one musical evening at the Elthams,
they had slipped away to his ground floor chamber to make
love, so desperate were they to be alone together. If anyone
noticed them missing, they said not a word.
When Michael finally agreed to host one at home, Bryony
felt he was truly free of the worst parts of his past, and their
lovemaking that night was explosive.
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I think music brings out the worst, or best in you, she said
with a sleepy smile as he rolled over onto his back, taking her
with him.
I think it was your gown, actually. Anything that reminds me
of your eyes, and the first time we met. And the fact that I could
tell you didnt have a stitch on underneath when I saw you
sashaying aroung the room whilst I was playing that Bach
piece. I practically broke the keys when you lifted your skirt. Im
sure Ash saw you.
She chuckled throatily. Hes seen me before. Hell live.
I damned near didnt survive. My heart nearly gave out then
and there.
Sorry, love. My fault. I was just trying to get over the last
relic of my relationship with my first husband. He insisted on
being in control, when and wherever. Well, now I have a
choice.
Not entirely, with me like this, he said with a sweep of his
hand.
She shook her head against his shoulder. It doesnt matter.
For all intents and purposes theres nothing you cant do if
youre patient and put your mind to it.
He was tempted to tell her he had made a great deal of
progress re-learning how to walk, but decided to wait a little
longer to surprise her. Telling her was one thing. Just think how
thrilled she would be when she saw him.
Tired? he asked, his breath tickling her ear as he stroked
his cheek down her silky raven tresses.
Not too tired if you want to
I always want to. You dont even need to ask. His tongue
sizzled over her nipple as he laid her back against the pillows.
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She took his hands and wove her fingers between them,
flattening them to the mattress.
Michael understood the gesture, and raised them to stroke
her cheeks with the backs of his hands. He gazed into her
eyes, and she gave a little nod.
She rolled over onto her stomach and he kissed up and
down her back before finally putting his hands on her buttocks
and massaging them worshipfully.
Then he began to kiss them and even gave her a couple of
playful nips. He caresses her feminine center until his fingers
were dewed and turned her onto her side.
He teased her entrance for a moment and then pulsed his
huge head into her, caressing her peaks and valleys delicately
the whole time he glided within.
Darling, I was thinking, he murmured against her ear.
The fire he was stoking within her molten centre rendered
her almost incapable of coherence but she managed to pant,
Thinking? Now? Of what?
His quiet words had all the impact of a thunder bolt. I would
simply adore a little girl with your eyes.
She froze for the space of a heartbeat as she did a quick
mental calculation. She blew out a shaky breath and smiled,
relaxing against him once more. Then I say there's no time like
the present.
He withdrew from her convulsing body just long enough to
remove her sponge, and then thrust deeply, his hands never
still on her breasts and her roseate swirl of passion.
He drove her on until she was shuddering so violently he
was sure every drop of his essence had been wrung from him.
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Yet still she moved, and sobbed his name as she turned her
head for a kiss. I love you, she gasped.
I love you, Bryony now and for all time, he vowed.
His heart sang as he thanked all the heavens for the gift of
this miraculous woman, and all the joy she had brought to his
life.
Michael never even knew he had drifted off to sleep until the
nightmare caused him to jolt awake. Still buried inside Bryony,
he thrust into her so hard she gasped and asked in alarm,
What, what is it?
I dreamed. God, I dreamed.
A bad one? she asked, sliding off his pulsing shaft and
turning over to face him.
After a time he shook his head. I cant tell. it was all dark
and I couldnt find you. But its the first time Ive dreamed in I
dont know how long. And the first time I havent had a
nightmare about Toulouse in almost two years.
Oh thank the gods. She kissed him so sweetly he felt like
weeping.
For the dream had truly terrified himthe void had reminded
him of what his life had been like before Bryony had arrived.
And the fact that he had been searching everywhere and not
been able to find her....
It was only a sick fancy, he told himself. But all the same he
clung onto her passionately. Even when he finally climaxed for
the last time several hours later, he still scarcely dared let her
out of his sight.
It was only a dream, darling, she panted. Im here, were
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safe. And if we keep this up we really will have a daughter in

nine months time.
All right. Im sorry, he said, releasing his grip on her at last.
Nothing to apologise for. She stroked her hand down the
length of his body boldly. In fact, she said, working her way
down a second time with warm open-mouthed kisses, Im
feeling rather peckish. And I really did adore that position
before after all. Youre a musician, darling. Im sure youre up to
a repeat performance.
Michael laughed then in spite of his fears. Youre the
musician, darling. Or is it magician? You certainly do the most
magical things with my instrument.
Alexander and Blake arrived at eleven the next morning for
their usual weekly hunting session. It was still far too early as
far as the joyous and nearly insatiable newlyweds were
concerned.
But Michael gave the nape of Bryonys neck one final kiss.
With a last twitch of his fingers and massive hardness he
dragged himself from her off her back and sighed. Damnation.
My fault for inviting them.
He massaged her rosy buttocks, thrilling her feminine core
with his thumbs, though she was already nearly completely
exhausted. She pulled the wedge-shape pillow out from under
her stomach and buried her head under the covers, though she
still continued to squirm as he teased her relentlessly.
Go on, darling. A bit of fresh air and exercise will do you
good.
He ran his mouth and light stubble over her flank and nipped
one buttock playfully, before rolling her over to nibble her
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rosebud of desire until she began to shudder anew. Youre the

air I breathe, love. And as for exercise, I fancy riding all
afternoon right here with you.
Promises, promises, she panted.
Just remember I rise to every challenge.
She wiggled her hips down in an effort to harden the teasing
contact. You rise every time you draw breath.
He grinned. Aye, if youre in the room with me.
Go on, darling. Ill be right here waiting for you when you get
back. You can show me all sorts of interesting tricks with your
big gun.
Gladly. Nothing like keeping it well-oiled.
She shot him a look of mock outrage. Oh, you are so
naughty. Now off you go before I change my mind and hold you
captive after all.
Oh, please hold me captive. In fact, Ill even let you tie me
up.
Now, now. I thought you said you didnt play bedroom
games.
I didnt know what I was missing. And, well, he hesitated,
his face growing serious, I would never want to remind you of
your past.
She brushed his cheek lightly with her fingertips. I never
think of it any more. Youve chased all my shadows away. Im
warm, safe, loved, and happy.
Im so glad, he said, moving all the way up the bed now to
kiss her and cradle her head against his shoulder.
I love you.
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He smiled. I know. You dont even have to say it. It radiates

out from you like the sun warming me and the boys. Everyone
we come into contact with.
She gazed into his loving face intently. Go on, off you go
and let me get some sleep. Ill be fine. Right here at home
waiting for you, I promise.
Michael went reluctantly, wishing he could shake the
inexplicable feeling of dread he felt settling around his heart.
As soon as he was gone, Bryony dragged herself out of the
bed to see the boys, who were in the middle of their reading
lesson and delighted to see their mother.
Good morning, darlings.
They gave her a smacking kiss each.
Wheres Papa? Darren asked.
Out hunting. Hes going to bring back all sorts of nice things
to eat.
Papas better now? Not so sick? Darren observed with a
hopeful light in his eyes.
Yes, much better now, she said, blinking back the tears.
You helped him, both of you. Just like he helped you.
Can we have that puppy you promised now? Gavin asked
with a winning smile which was pure innocence. N
He was not like Damien at all, she noted with relief. He was
like her as she had been, a happy child, petted and loved.
Two puppies, one each," she promised impetuously, with a
loving smile. "Ask Papa when he gets home. Im sure he will
find just the thing. She hugged and kissed them, and held
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them for a time longer.

Im going to go off to have my bath now. You do your
lessons and then have a nap.
Yes, Mummy, they both chorused obediently, and turned
back to their slates.
Bryony felt a shiver of apprehension despite the calm
domestic scene and the warmth of the spring day, but went off
to complete her ablutions and toilette.
She dressed in one of Michaels favourite gowns, a blue
linen frock with white lace trim around the square neckline. She
wondered if she was coming down with a cold, for even with the
spring sunshing pouring in the bay window, setting the entire
bed aglow as she sat perched on the edge pulling on her
stockings and boots, she felt chilled to the bone.
She told herself to stop worrying about Michael, and tried to
think of a special supper and romantic treat for her husband
when he returned.
Once she had finished dressing and coiled her heavy raven
tresses atop her head, she descended the stairs and headed
for the hall table to see what correspondence had arrived for
she and Michael.
When there was a rap at the door, she did not stand on
ceremony and wait for Simms, but simply opened it herself.
She and the huge dark visitor stared at each other for a
moment.
As the truth registered in her horrified mind, Bryony pushed
hard and tried to slam the door shut and bolt it.
In an instant was flung backwards violently against the
plaster. Then Derek Dalrymples hands were around her throat,
threatening to squeeze the very life from her.
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You bloody bitch! Running away! Leaving us with nothing!

Throwing my mother and I out into the road! What the hell did
you think you were playing at! Did you think I wouldnt find you?
Make you pay?
Each accusation was punctuation by his slamming her up
against the wall, jarring her spine, setting her teeth on edge,
leaving her choking on her own terror.
You were mine! Always mine until Demon decided to take
you from me! Well hes gone now and you have no place to
hide.
His hands eased from around her throat just long enough to
rip the bosom of her gown from her neck down to her waist.
In an instant his mouth was all over her. The icy wall of fear
which had held her frozen in place crumbled at the thought of
any other man than her husband kissing her, suckling her
breasts.
Get off me. Im married already. My husband is going to kill
you if he catches you here, she said, landing a swingeing blow
to his cheek which knocked him back long enough for her to try
to flee for the door. Where the hell were the servants.
Simms! Simms! she shrieked, trying to take refuge in the
drawing room.
He slammed the door back on his hinges before she could
shut it. You little bitch! Whos been skewering you? Half of the
country since you left, I shouldnt wonder, he hissed, snatching
at her skirts as she fled. I can smell him on you. Youre like a
bitch in heat.
She had thought her first husband foul-mouthed, but the
stream of invective which gushed forth as her brother-in-law
began to shred her gown and underthings was the worst she
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had ever heard.

She fought hard, but feared her strength would fail long
before any help arrived.
At last Simms came out from below stairs and tried to drag
off the deranged man attacking his mistress.
He shouted to the other servants briefly before Dereks fist
silenced him and he fell to the floor in a heap.
Bryony gasped in horror. God, Derek, youve killed him!
No one stands in the way of whats mine.
Im not a piece of property! Ive never been yours! I can
never be yours! Im married already and I hate you! she
shouted, scrambling to the back of the house on her hands and
knees.
He was about to grab her to him again when a small furious
missile launched itself at him.
You leave my mummy alone! Bad man!
Darren pummelled his leg with his small fists. A lucky blow
upwards landed squarely in his groin.
Derek let out a whoof of pain before backhanding the child
full force, sending him flying sideways into the corner of the
door frame.
His little head thunked against the sharp edge, and blood
spattered everywhere as he slid downwards in a daze.
God, no! What kind of animal are you? she gasped, trying
to crawl towards her son.
Even Derek seemed to acknowledge that he had gone too
far as he stared at the bleeding child in horror. He continued to
clutch his throbbing anatomy for a time longer before
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straightening.
He grabbed his nephew out of Bryonys arms by the scruff of
his neck and began to stride toward the open front door.
Hes the heir. Whoever has him can control the estate. You
can come or not as you like. But if you ever want to see him
again, youll come now. And youll be my mistress until the day I
tire of you, or the boy will suffer even worse than youve seen
here today.
No! You cant have him. Hes mine. He belongs here with
me and his new father. Well make some sort of settlement!
You can have the damned estate! she wept. "Just let him go!"
Now Bryony began to struggle to stop her former brother-inlaw from leaving. Her hair tumbled down into her eyes as she
snatched Derek around the waist, grabbed his groin, and
twisted and pulled as hard as she could, using a self-defense
move that Ash had taught her one day long ago and had finally
sprung to mind in her sheer desperation.
With a roar of pain he dropped the boy and tried to drag her
off him.
Darren, run! Run get help!
But it was little Gavin who fled screaming at the sight at the
bottom of the stairs. Injured as Darren was, he was determined
to stand his ground and protect his mother.
Derek knew he had to make a choice. If he had the boy, he
had leverage. He could come back and deal with the wench
later, when his balls werent half twisted off and he had the time
to punish her for the whore she was.
He snatched the boy up again. With Bryony clinging every
step of the way, he strode toward the door.
Robin the valet came from the servants quarters to see what
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had sent Gavin into such hysterics.

Michael, wheeling in through the back door from the stable
block, wasnt far behind him. Missing Bryony more than he
could say, he had come back early amid some very goodnatured twitting by Alexander and Blake about being totally
smitten with his new wife.
He had galloped back as fast as he could, outpacing them,
and now as he entered the house he knew the crushing sense
of foreboding he had had all night had now been fully realised.
He saw the huge man grab a handful of his wifes hair and
yank it back violently until at last she released his groin and
went flying back into the wall with a crash and hiss of pain.
Michael could see blood all over the door and wall, his wife
half-naked and bloody, and his entire world awash in lurid red.
He could smell the gunpowder, and clutched convulsively at
the musket laid across his lap, still slotted into the sides of his
chair.
You bastard Dalrymple! Im going to bloody well kill you! he
said, struggling to get the weapon out and up.
Derek turned and gaped in disbelief. Lord in Heaven, Bryony
had married Michael Avenel? The great Hero of the Peninsular
War? The Grim Reaper himself?
Dalrymple went flying out the front door, cursing himself for
his own impetuous stupidity in having attacked her without first
knowing the lay of the land. Darren shrieked in his arms as he
fled.
Jesus, Bryony! Michael exclaimed to his battered wife as
he wheeled parallel to her to see how badly she was hurt.
She waved him off at once. Im fine. Go get Darren. He
cant take him. Please! Please! My son! Our son! she gasped.
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Ill get him. I swear.

With one shimmering stroke of his fingers over her tearstained face, Michael pushed harder and harder on his wheel
rims. He propelled himself to the door, stretched his long arms,
and pulling back and forth to build up momentum, shot out of
the portal and kept rolling down the wider of the two paths,
pushing off the wooden rail with his right hand to build up speed
as he yanked his gun from his lap with his left. All of his
instincts for survival took over as he charged.
He would defend the people he loved with his last dying
breath, as the horses thundered and the vibrations shook the
ground in his waking nightmare.
As fast as he was going down the incline, still he could see
Derek outpacing them both, though Robin the valet was gaining
fast.
Michael raised the musket and took aim through the red
haze that choked his vision. Fear and rage such as he had
never known made his hands tremble. What should have been
a solid hit in the knee ended up clipping the fleeing man in the
fleshy part of his thigh.
It was enough to slow him down, but not stop him. He
hobbled on, and Michael leaned forward to make the chair go
faster while he tried to reload.
By this time Robin had come up behind Derek and seized
his shoulders, spinning him around and trying to wrest Darren
away.
Derek dropped the boy long enough to struggle with the
valet for a moment, until suddenly Robin crumpled. He clutched
his side as rivulets of red ran down though his fingers, and he
fell to his knees.
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Michael had already reloaded, and was preparing to take

aim when Derek snatched up the howling child once more.
Michael could see the blood all around him, heard the screams
of the wounded and dying, could see his quarry vanishing.
He screamed his old battle cry he had never thought to utter
again.England and St. George!
The chair was still rolling ever downwards. At the end of the
path it jammed hard in the mud. In an instant Michael was
launching forward, still in mindless pursuit, his heart hammering
in his chest at the thought of losing Darren to this madman.
Every step was agony, white hot and searing, like a score of
scorching bayonets lancing through his legs and lower back.
Still Michael plunged onward. With a roar of bestial fury he
snatched Dereks coat shoulder and dragged him right off the
ground.
Derek tried to use the boy as a shield, but Darren scratched
and bit hard enough for him to lose his grip. The boy leapt like a
monkey into Michaels arms, weeping and trembling.
Michael embraced and kissed him for the briefest second
before lowering him to slide down his leg. Run to your mother,
lad. Go on, son, run.
Then he was on Derek, batting his four-inch knife aside as
though it were a mere toy.
As fierce as a lion, he began to claw at his throat, throttling
the life from him. Trying to rape my wife! Steal my son! You
bastard, Ill bloody kill you!
Amid the roar of the guns and the screams of the wounded
and dying, Michael prepared to kill his last enemy. He would
hate himself, for these were no more than children, not much
older than his brother Randall when he had left him and his
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other brothers to join the Army at the start of the war...

He blinked, and the sounds began to subside. And now
there was a new shouting amongst the men. Dont, Michael!
Dont! Its over. Dont kill him. Weve won, weve won.
It was Bryonys voice he heard pleading. At last he looked
down at the white face of Derek Dalrymple and knew beyond a
doubt that there were worse things than death. And that he
would face them himself if he ever lost Bryony or the boys.
He raised the muzzle of the shotgun into his face, bloodying
Dereks mouth as he hissed, Killing is too good for you. Youre
going to Newgate for this. For years. A living hell for the one
you tried to subject Bryony and the boys to. Im sure there will
be lots of blokes there delighted to see your tight little arse
sashaying in the door.
Derek went even more white, and began to beg tearfully.
No, please, I loved her
Love? Your kind doesnt know the meaning of the word, you
or your brother the Demon. Youre going to jail. It will be no
more than you deserve. And make no mistake. If any of your
family or friends come near me, my wife or my boys again, I
shall shoot on the spot. And there isnt a court in the land who
will convict me for protecting my family from an intruder.
Michael was spared his whining pleas for clemency by
Alexander and Blake running down from the house. Alexander
grabbed Derek and held his pistol to his head.
Dont move, Derek, or Ill damned well kill you myself.
Tell one of the servants to send for the authorities, Michael
ordered.
Ill put him in the stables in the meantime, Alexander
offered, shaking him like a rat.
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Blake was examining Bryony, who was clinging to Michaels

chair, but she waved him away, insisting he look at Darrens
head and Robins stab wound.
But my mother, Derek protested. How will she
Michael spat, You should both have thought of that before
you tried to hurt my family. Alex, get this miserable piece of
rubbish out of my sight before I cut off his cullions and feed
them to the crows.
Alexander hauled him off to the stable none too gently, while
Blake helped Robin and Darren up to the house. Only when
they were gone did Michael let the butt of the musket he had
been leaning on slip, and collapsed to the ground at last.
Bryony was instantly at his side, cradling his head against
her bared bosom.
Oh God in Heaven, Bryony, please, just get me back into
the house, he panted, writhing in the worst agony he thought
he had ever felt in his life.
He turned his face into her bosom for a brief second,
breathing in her clean, fresh scent, like a spring meadow, roses
and newly-mown grass.
At last the stench of gunpowder and blood faded. He sat up
just long enough to strip his jacket off, throw it around Bryony's
bared upper half, and put her arms in the huge sleeves. Then
he laid his head in her lap and wept.
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Chapter Thirty-four
Much later when the house had settled down thanks to
Blakes excellent care for all his patients, Bryony and Michael
were safely in their bed, the children sleeping on the small sofa
behind a screen.
Darren was bruised, but not concussed, and a sleeping
draught for Gavin had soothed him into a peaceful slumber
after his terrifying ordeal.
Robin the valet was resting comfortably belowstairs, proud of
his hero status in the eyes of the rest of the staff for helping
stopped Derek Dalrymple from kidnapping the young master.
They waited on him hand and foot, and every so often asked
him again what had happened, so they could relive the drama
all over again.
Blake examined Michael once more, and looked pointedly at
his oldest friend. Well, do you think it was the treatment Bryony
was giving you, or were you practising all along behind our
backs? Or was it your mind playing tricks on you?
All of the above, Michael confessed sheepishly. I think I
didnt want to be better for a few reasons. Firstly, that I didnt
deserve to be after all those poor young soldiers in France I
killed. And my own men dying without me there. The losses
were so heavy. It was dreadful, my worst nightmare come true.
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"I thought I had been through a lot until I woke up in the

hospital and found so many of my comrades gone, as if they
had never existed. I never even got to say goodbye, and it had
all been for naught. Napoleon had abdicated. All that slaughter
had been for nothing. He shook his head and pushed the
memory aside forcefully at last.
With Bryony coming along, I had new hope, a reason to get
well. But I also a reason to not want to. I was afraid that she
had pitied me only. That as soon as I was well, things would
change between us. It seemed easier to keep things as they
were. Im sorry for ever doubting you, love. I hated being
dependent, but I thought if Bryony knew how much I needed
her, she might not leave me.
I would never leave you. I love you, she reassured him with
a tender smile.
He nodded. I know. But I was also concerned that once I
was able-bodied, youd fear me the way you feared all men
after what your first husband did.
She shook her head and kissed him on the cheek. I could
never fear you, darling.
Not even after what you saw today? That was the real me,
the savage killer, he said, his face contorted with anguish.
She shook her head. I did see the real you, a man who
loves his wife and sons, and let justice be done without taking it
into his own hands. Theres nothing for me to fear any more
now, ever.
Well, Blake said, snapping his bag shut, as your doctor I
advise plenty of rest for the next couple of days. Then to
institute a more gradual regimen of practicing walking, with
some bars for support and so on. I would suggest the path out
at the front for starters. For now Im going to just say well done,
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even if you did deceive us a bit. Im just so relieved that

everyone is all right. And that Bryonys past troubles are finally
all over.
When he had gone, she asked softly, Do you think hes
right? That it really is all over?
Michael nodded. Yes. I think so. I dont know how he found
us. Alistair swore that he would protect you. But Derek will be in
jail for a long time. Even when he gets out, if he ever does, he
knows me well enough to be sure Ill carry out my threat.
And his mother?
Shell be easy enough to buy off. Well get Alistair to draw
up something sensible and force them both to sign it. But not
too soon. Let Derek sweat in jail for a time fearing the worst.
She looked at him in surprise. Ive never known you to have
a cruel streak.
He laughed harshly. Cruel doesnt even begin to describe
how I felt when I saw what he had tried to do to you. I went wild,
even beyond what I feel when I see blood. I was so furious I
would gladly have killed him.
But a voice in my head, your voice, told me there are worse
things than death. I knew that if I killed him you would never
forgive me, that I would lose you. And if I killed again I wouldnt
have been able to forgive myself either. You called me back
from the brink of disaster yet again, my love. He took her hand
and kissed it.
She laid her head on his shoulder and nestled close against
him on the bed. Thank you for saving my son.
Our sons. Were going to raise them together to be good
and decent, and excellent brothers to any other little arrivals we
chance to find along the way.
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In the cabbage patch? she asked mischievously.

His hands roved over her boldly. Perhaps. I do so enjoy
ploughing and digging.
Oh stop, she gasped at the intensity of his caress, fearful
the boys would wake.
He brushed her tousled hair back from her face and kissed
her on the brow. Im sorry, I forgot myself. I hardly dare touch
you after what that brute nearly did-
She took his hand and put it to her breast, before
unbuttoning his jacket, which he had thrown over her to cover
her nakedness, and she had been wearing ever since.
I want your hands upon me to banish the darkness and the
memory. Youve only ever touched me with love, and I have to
believe its stronger than hate.
I pray so, he said sincerely.
She nodded. I know so. Today we defeated Derek with the
help of Robin and your friends. Even little Darren defied him.
Now all my demons are gone, all of them, including my fears for
your recovery. We can look forward to a happy future, and
youre never to tell me again that you want to give me up for my
own good.
I swear, I never will. I was so frightened that you would be
taken
But I wasnt. Im here with you now and here I stay, she
reassured him with a loving kiss.
Im only sorry I didnt ask you to marry me sooner. I hate to
think of all those months we wasted, with me struggling against
fate, and what was meant to be.
She shrugged one shoulder as if it didn't concern her in the
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least. It was better to be sure, really sure, than to do something

hasty that we might both regret.
But I treated you like a servant, Michael reminded her
sadly, stroking her cheek with one broad thumb.
Only because I insisted that you make me work for a living,"
she said, before giving him a tender kiss. "Besides, you have
nothing to reproach yourself for. You were a model master. I
couldnt have asked for a better situation, or home.
Now I shall devote myself to being a model husband, and
father. Nothing is more important to me than the three of you,
and any other children the gods see fit to provide us with.
You already are a model spouse. You know what I want
even before I do, she said with a smile.
Youve most certainly read my mind on a few occasions, he
purred, smothering her face in kisses.
She grinned up at him. Im glad. It wasnt always easy,
though. You were so determined to do the right thing. But all
along I wanted you. You just couldnt believe it.
He stroked her hair back from her brow lovingly. I shall
never doubt a word you say ever again. Except when you say
no when I try to kiss you down-
She blushed, and said shyly, If you really enjoy it, I shant
say no.
If you really hate it then I shant do it any more, he said, his
eyes glowing with love.
She kissed him reassuringly. Everything you do is
wonderful. Its just all so marvellous. It can be frightening at
times how much I want you. But we have the rest our lives to
explore one another, and discover new things.
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Yes, that wedding gift of Ashs looks like some most

diverting bedtime reading," he said with a smile. "I dont think I
shall be up to all of the positions, but in most cases it appears
you have to be the more flexible of the two of us anyway.
She gave a sultry smile of her own in return. So long as I
can have a massage or two from you, darling, Im more than
happy to do the work.
So long as you let me have one of your special lingam
massages and that spiced tea, sweetheart, you can have
whatever you want.
She cast a look over at the boys, still sound asleep. Now?
Now.
She sat up to divest herself of her clothes, and began to
remove his. Forever? Please?
He nodded, the joy of a blissful future with Bryony filling his
heart nearly full to bursting.
Whatever you want, you have only to ask. I would be less
than a model master and husband if I denied you anything. You
have all of me heart, body and soul, now and always, my
dearest love.
Yes, my darling Michael. Forever.
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Authors note
Nothing is better than the joy of falling in love. And I most
certainly adore my career writing romances. But it occurs to me
that books and movies often set up an artificial standard to be
admired and emulated. One which, while it does not inevitably
lead to disappointment, can certainly project a false image of
how love is supposed to be.
The truth is that every couple is different, and every couple
will encounter problems in their relationship. Some encounter
them right at the start, others much later, but relationships are
always a test of love and courage, for they leave us vulnerable.
When I was doing the research for this novel, I began
thinking about my life as a suddenly disabled person. The
changes which have had to be made as a result of my
debilitating heart condition.
It is easy to feel sorry for oneself when you face a major
health challenge, and think why me. But as I sat in the hospital
for weeks, I actually drew a lot of hope from the experience. I
realised that many other people have gone through the same
thing, or far worse.
One needs only think of Christopher Reeve. He was at the
time, and still is a very public symbol of the thousands of people
suddenly struck down with some condition which makes them
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considered less than normal (whatever that can be defined

as).
So how does one cope with a partner who is disabled in
some way? Well, obviously it depends to a large extent upon
the nature of the disability, and whether it is physical or mental.
Often if will be both, a question as much of attitude as it is of
aptitude. Michael does not want to or even feel he deserves to
be loved, or to try to improve, until he is motivated. One can
only ever be supportive and understanding, but as with
anything else, ultimately if we love someone we allow them to
make their own choices, even if we feel them to be a mistake.
The Tantra is a lovely way to develop intimacy even when
normal sex can not be engaged in. Or I would advocate what
has been termed outercourse, the realisation that pleasure can
come from any part of the body, not just the obvious ones. (This
is also used in connection with male sexual problems such as
PE and ED). The main motive is to make the other person
happy, rather than yourself, and can be a real blessing for
people who face health challenges, bad backs, and more. Not
to mention a way of making things more exciting if you've been
together for some time and want to spice things up a bit.
In all of my most recent novels the heroes have been flawed
in some way, but that does not make them any less lovable or
deserving of love. Just because they are not violent Alpha
males does not make them any less sexy to my mind, or those
of my heroines, strong women who can give of themselves
without ending up victims or doormats. I hope all of you agree.
At the end of the novel, Michael is on the way to his road to
recovery just like Alexander and Will in Books Four and Six of
the series. They are the fortunate ones; many scarred by war
were and are not so lucky.
The Model Master
Sorcha MacMurrough
HerStory Books
321
We shall have to wait to see what happens to Ash, and

some of the other characters we have met in the series thus far.
And Michael will also be back soon as a supporting character,
for he and Bryony's adventures will continue along with the rest
of the Rakehells'.
In our next book we revisit Blakes cousin Martin Jerome,
nearly hanged by Gerald Hawkesworth in the very first book in
this series, The Mad Mistress. Four years have passed since
his devastating assault.
As we have seen with Michael Avenel in this book, often the
mental scars can be worse than the physical. It will take a very
special woman to uncover the secrets locked inside his heart.
We hope you will join us to find out who it is! Dont miss The
Model Mistress, the next novel in the Rakehell Regency series.
As always, I love to
hear
from
my
fans
at
Thank you all so much for taking the trouble to be so

responsive to my novels. Wishing you all much love in your
lives until next time.
The Model Master

Sorcha MacMurrough
HerStory Books
322

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The Model Master

Book Eight of The Rakehell Regency Series

Can Michael ever be the man Bryony needs him to be? Or

Michaels eyes flew open and he snatched at her wrist,

She shook her head. Im not asking you to love me in

The Model Master

Rakehells are in top form as usual, and we also meet some

The Model Master

Dedication: To everyone who has fought this long

The Model Master

October 31, 1815

He cursed the fates once more in the roundest terms, though

drug for one final fatal dose.

Yes. Poor young Keats. Not much of a surgeon by all

He thought of Antonys speech in Antony and Cleopatra.

vintage. The second time, he filled the vessel about one-quarter

The Model Master

The woman needed his help. So help he would, as best he

the world. Im not going to let them die!

longer in others. She sighed. It would be good to go to church

suggested. I promise not to touch or steal anything.

The woman came running into the room a few moments

go off to get the brandy.

He busied himself measuring out some quinine for fever and

The Model Master

A complication of the measles, I fear. Its rare, but I have

sighed. We couldnt stay at the nice little room.

room to spare. Why, he could curve them to span her waist

man or two, though.

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The Model Master

the roof were caving in.

Then Michael tested Gavins head. Theyre still far too

more normal, even if still splotched with measles. Then he

Ill call you if anything changes, I promise. And you cant

The Model Master

of her cocoon. Even if anyone did care about her widowed

lover with hours of stamina for the more insatiable of his

enfeebled manner. It was one of the reasons he had eventually

Really? Do you speak the language?

I see. It does sound most tedious and unappetising. Do you

his hands and held it in both her own.

To his surprise Bryony met his stare calmly. Theres nothing

The Model Master

the bottle convulsively. Thank you.

began to cough violently once more. She inserted a creamware

no prude, and I dont have such a prurient mind that I see

chemise which was only cotton, albeit good quality.

Very well, Ill try.

The Model Master

Bryony stared at Michaels drawn white face, saw the cut,

He was rigid in the chair, unmoving, frozen in the moment he

boys have made a fine mess of you.

He stared at her. Do you mock me, Madam?

relieved he hadnt scared the children. He knew he was

But my legs, he said with a shake of his head. I cant

all soaked through.

Michael shook his head. Youll never be able to tell me that

A wounded soul in need of help, comfort.

down at him. A slight movement of her head would have

Yes, of course. Good night, and thank you again.

The Model Master

Michael. Im here. Youre not alone. Its Bryony. I, um, I wanted