After several card games in which Audrey lost more than she won, she stretched. “I should head back.”
“Why don’t you spend the night?” Theodocia asked. “It’s quite late. We have more than enough room here.”
At that moment, the clocked chimed the hour, and Audrey was shocked to realize it was midnight. “I can’t believe it’s so late!”
“Come.” Theodocia stood and motioned for her to do the same. “You can sleep in the room at the end of the hall. It has a lovely view of the river. I can lend you a freshly laundered nightgown. What could be easier?”
She was tired. The heavy meal and brandy had made her sleepy. “You’re very kind.”
“Nonsense. We can walk up together.”
Audrey stepped inside the room It was decorated in the same heavy wood as the rest of the house, but this room had a peach color to it. A round window overlooked the green lawn and the river, which she could barely make out in the night.
She undressed and laid her clothes out over the chair. Pulling on the borrowed shift, she sighed at the coolness against her skin. It was heaven as she slipped into the bed. She fell asleep almost at once.
Henry came into the stillness of the house. The gaslights had been turned off, but the fireplace was still burning low in the parlor. He poured himself a whiskey. His business in London had been tiresome, and when he was away from Norwich for any length of time, he longed to return there.
He settled himself on the large sofa and stretched out. He stared into the fire, remembering the last time he had seen her.
I’ll make this right, he had told her. And so, he had. But in return, she had kept her distance from him and made good on her promise.
We can’t keep meeting like this. People will talk.
He sighed, downing the drink in one gulp.
People will talk. People will talk. People will talk.
He closed his eyes as he listened to the stillness of the house. The creaks that were so familiar to him in this house he loved so much. He felt himself drifting off until he came awake suddenly. Creaks on the stairs. His mother must be up.
He turned his head to see her, and what he saw was a white gown floating down the stairs. He blinked and then looked down at his glass. How many bloody drinks had he had? He shook his head again. In the dark, the apparition had left the stairs and was coming this way.
His heart skipped a beat. It was a ghost. A ghost inside his beloved house. Impossible! His body tensed as he waited to pounce on the ghost. He would be damned if he would allow a ghost to roam his house.
When the ghost entered the room, he sprang up, yanked her into his arms, and slammed her into the sofa beneath him. “I’ve got you!” he said triumphantly.
The breath left her body in a rush, and her small fists connected with a chest. “Let me go!” she hissed.
“Be still!” he told her quietly.
“Henry.” She said his name for the first time ever. “Henry, it’s me. Audrey.”
Henry looked down at the figure he held and knew he was dreaming. Under him, in his arms, was none other than Audrey Wakefield, her blue eyes luminous in the firelight and her slim body flush against him. It wasn’t possible. There was no earthly reason why she would be in his house floating about like a phantom. It was a dream. A delicious dream he never wanted to end.
“Audrey,” he whispered.
Then with no other thought, he pressed into her and touched his lips to hers. She tasted of brandy, and he felt himself drowning. He would never let her go. If he died tonight, he would die in this dream. In his arms, he held the feisty, impossible Audrey with her fire-blue eyes and temper to match.
It was a perfect dream.
Nothing prepared Audrey for the feelings that crushed her when he kissed her. She had never been kissed in her life, and she became jelly in his arms. She couldn’t help herself. She moaned when his mouth took hers.
“Audrey.” He spoke her name again. One hand was in her hair while the other caressed her throat.
She felt his strong muscular chest against her breasts and realized just how naked she was. All she wore was a thin shift, and she was pressed against Henry, who held her securely to him. He was strong, and she could not get away from him by pushing him. It would not do.
When he leaned in to kiss her again, she bit his bottom lip and he released her on a groan of pain, giving her the chance to escape. She ran back to her room, realizing her throat was no longer dry but her heart was racing. When she closed the door behind her, she leaned against it, pressing a hand to her heart. She licked her lips. She could still taste him.
Audrey dressed in her black mourning gown and left the white shift she had worn to bed on the back of the chair. She coiled her hair at the nape of her neck with combs and steadied herself. She would admit nothing. She would tell him nothing. Let him try to bring it up, she reasoned, and she would shame him. She reached for the doorknob with a trembling hand.