“Where are we going?”
“We raised our glasses in salutation. A toast to our love of frolicking in forbidden places. There is nothing as daring as making love in a hay barn.”
She pulled back slightly. “You’ve done it before?”
“No, but where you’re concerned I am plagued with a vivid imagination.”
The answer seemed to please her. Indeed, while one hand cupped his neck, the other moved in caressing strokes over the muscles in his arms and shoulder.
“Making love sounds so much better than making lust.”
He smiled as he marched across the courtyard, carrying his temptress. “Trust me there will be equal amounts of both.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Perhaps we should wait until we return to London to further our acquaintance.” Lockhart braced his hands on his hips and stared at the mound of hay in the stall at the far end of the small barn. His concern over their crude surroundings seemed to have quelled his desire.
Claudia felt quite the opposite.
The air smelt damp from the rain. The aroma of dust and wood and earth always appealed to her. Besides, in London how was she to know the difference between genuine feelings and those feigned purely for deception?
“If you’ve changed your mind,” she began, but he did not let her finish her sentence.
“I have not changed my mind.” Bewitching brown eyes travelled the length of her body. No, from the heat in his gaze that much was clear. “But I’ll not treat you like a randy milk-maid in need of a quick tupping.”
A chuckle burst from her lips. “Lust must play a part. You said so yourself.”
“It’s damp in here.” A frown marred his brow as he surveyed the scene. “You’ll likely catch your death in those wet clothes.”
She should be flattered he cared. “If your reservations stem from concern for me—”
“Of course they stem from concern for you.” He dragged his hand through his wet hair. “Love, is my need for you not perfectly evident?”
The comment drew her gaze to the thick rod of his manhood pressing against his soaked breeches.
Oh, my!
“Claudia, I’ll die if I don’t have you, but your comfort must be a priority.”
An idea popped into her head.
She wasted no time in acting. “Then come with me.” She grabbed hold of his hand and pulled him along behind. “Quickly.”
The rain continued to pelt their faces as they hurried from the hay barn and around the back of the house in the direction of the rotunda.
The white sheets acting as walls were wet through. Clumps of damp ash filled the brazier. But the creeping ivy and red roses hinted it might be the perfect place for an amorous liaison. Inside, the chaise and furs were dry. The rug and the array of plush cushions made the hideaway seem like an exotic harem. After all, was she not about to become Hudson Lockhart’s concubine, his mistress?
The thought should have roused her doubts. But such indelicate descriptions failed to convey the true depth of their intimate relationship. Dariell often boasted that the truth of all things lay in the heart, not the head. In her heart, nothing about this felt wrong. Everything felt right.
“Let’s stay here instead of the hay barn.” Claudia glanced out into the night, noted the house was shrouded in darkness. “No one will venture out into the garden at this hour.”
Determined to appease Hudson’s need to ensure her comfort, she moved the rug behind the chaise, and with his help made a bed out of the furs and cushions.
“You can be rather determined when you put your mind to something.” Hudson grinned as he appraised their makeshift bed.
Nothing would prevent this union. She wanted to love him. Wanted to feel loved in return. And if her plans to thwart Mr Thorncroft went awry, she would always know what it was to be with a man she desired.
“We’ve spent so long focusing on the task, I wonder if you still feel as amorous as you did ten minutes ago.” Perhaps the need for practicality had dampened his desire.