Perhaps he was simply suffering from the reaction of almost two months behind enemy lines: however successful an operation was, it was always a strain. And yet, this time there had been another edge, a need to get back to Greystoke and the woman he had left there. Blake recalled the laughter and the sheer fun of that bumpy, uncomfortable, frustrating chaise journey down from London as he had tried to kiss and caress her and they had ended up, bruised and laughing on the floor. ‘Never mind,’ he had said as they picked themselves up. ‘There is all the time in the world…’
Now he looked across the table at his pink-cheeked wife, still slightly flustered from his lovemaking, and felt a fresh jolt of desire.
‘Some more toast?’ Emily served them both, then proceeded to regale him with a steady flow of mild gossip culled from the newssheets, observations on the Isles of Scilly, her opinion of ghost stories an
d her delight at not having suffered seasickness on the voyage out from Plymouth. He was not certain whether she was attempting to entertain him or simply erecting a barrier to hide behind. It was an interesting new experience, this marriage.
When they had finished Emily retrieved her cloak from the chair and led the way out. Blake followed her until they were in the open air on the granite steps to the front entrance. ‘Can’t I persuade you back inside?’ he murmured, catching her around the waist and tipping her chin up so that he could look into her blue eyes.
‘No, it is broad daylight!’ Emily said, biting her lower lip in a way that almost had him tossing her over his shoulder to carry her back up to her room. Perhaps she was sore, he thought with a pang of remorse. There would be time to persuade her that lovemaking could occur at any time. ‘Please, I would like to walk.’
She took his arm as they strolled down the hill past the powder magazine and the lock-up, then turned right along the track that circled the Garrison peninsula to serve the gun emplacements and look-out points. Below them Hugh Town straggled along its narrow spit between two bays. The air was clear, the scattered sand-fringed islands dotted the blue sea and gulls wheeled and screamed overhead.
‘A lovely view,’ she commented. ‘I like being beside the sea.’
‘I would rather be beside it than on it,’ Blake admitted. ‘No soldier is at ease on water.’
‘What about the marines?’
‘Neither fish nor fowl,’ he said with the careless arrogance of the regular army officer. The sentry on duty at the house saluted them, the butler threw open the great door and the first thing he saw was Janey Morton crossing the hall, a number of letters in her hands.
‘Miss Morton.’
She started and turned, her expression wary despite her smile of welcome. ‘Ah, Lord Greystoke. So you found your wife.’
‘As you see. Unfortunately I so startled Emily that she swooned. A little forewarning might have been advisable.’ He kept his tone perfectly polite and amiable but Emily’s hand tightened on his arm and he saw her flash a warning look at her friend.
‘But I am perfectly all right, Janey.’ Emily stepped forward and caught her hand. ‘Is it not wonderful that Lord Greystoke is back safely?’
‘Wonderful,’ Miss Morton agreed with a twinkle in her eye that told Blake she was not in the slightest bit abashed about her plotting. ‘What about your ship, my lord? Will you return on it or can we persuade you to join Emily here for a while?’
‘Thank you, I would be delighted,’ Blake said. ‘Perhaps you would be so kind as to provide me with writing paper and someone to take a note to the captain? Someone who can arrange to bring my luggage back from the ship.’
‘Of course, in here.’ She opened a door into what proved to be the study.
‘Thank you. I thought that Emily and I might take a walk this morning. We will find something for luncheon out, if that will not upset the arrangements you had made.’
‘Not at all. Benson,’ she turned to the butler. ‘Please have one of the lads take his lordship’s message and let the kitchen know about luncheon. I hope we will see you for dinner.’ She smiled and closed the door, leaving them alone.
‘Poor Benson,’ Emily observed. She perched on the arm of one of the leather wing chairs while Blake took a pen from the rack and pulled a sheet of notepaper towards him. Instead of picking up the pen he found himself contemplating her with quiet pleasure until she blushed and looked down at her hands. ‘He does not approve of guests being sent up to the old castle.’
‘Is our new butler such a high stickler?’ Blake wrote rapidly, scrawled his signature and found a box of wafers to seal the note.
‘I did not presume to engage any of the male staff in your absence. That, according to a most useful book on household management my cousin Miranda gave me, is the prerogative of the man of the house. We have a cook, a housekeeper and maids and your steward sent me men whenever we needed any heavy work carrying out.’
She broke off as Benson returned, accepted the note and bowed himself out.
‘So I must apply myself to the duties of a householder on my return, must I?’ Blake sat back in the chair, unexpectedly entertained by his managing wife.
Emily hesitated then looked him straight in the eye. ‘You intend to return now?’
‘Of course.’ Blake stood up, but she remained seated, simply tipping her head slightly to watch him. ‘I will have to report to Horse Guards, be debriefed about the mission. But I am due some leave and I intend to take it.’
There was something in her eyes, a fleeting shadow. Then, as he opened his mouth to question it she gave a little shrug and stood up and he wondered if he had imagined she had been disappointed in some way. Did she want him to remain in the army? Had she become used to her independence? ‘The sun is shining, let us make the most of it.’
He had hoped that she might be fearful that he would leave her again soon. But she had married him for position and the title and for the future of the children she hoped they would have together. Now, it seemed Emily had become quite self-sufficient. In fact it sounded as though the house was very much her domain and she could manage perfectly well without him until such time as she wanted a butler interviewed.
Or until she needed a man in her bed? Despite a growing uneasiness about his wife’s feelings, Blake smiled, thinking about that. ‘Come on then, show me your island retreat.’ He followed her out into the sunshine.