“On the contrary, my love, I am indebted to you for providing me an excuse to escape.”

She gave him a slanted glance and could not resist a gentle gibe. “I thought you might have enjoyed her game.”

Ashton’s eyes took on a glowing sheen as they again touched her bosom. “I’ve seen better, especially when I’ve been privileged to entertain my present companion.”

Her body tingled beneath his heated perusal, and she could not subdue a blush as a thrill rushed through her. Her voice was small as she reminded him, “I think you can put me down now….”

Despite the gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach, Ashton resumed his jovial demeanor as he placed her on the downturned covers of the tester bed. “Delivered safe and sound to your bed, madam, and I judge, with no more bruises. Yet I would say you’ve a trifle overdressed for bed. Do you care for assistance?”

She declined his offer with a soft chuckle of amusement. “I think I’ll wait for Willabelle to unfasten me.”

“What? And ignore these willing hands? Madam, surely a husband can do such a service without tarnishing his wife’s good reputation.” His white teeth gleamed beneath a widening grin. “I promise to be a gentleman.”

Lierin cocked a brow at him, conveying her distrust. “No doubt a married gentleman who takes his liberties seriously.”

“Of course!” he teased. “How else should I take them?”

She laughed. “I really don’t think I’m safe in here with you.”

“Come now, madam. Will a man ravish his own wife?”

“If he’s desperate enough,” she replied pertly.

“I am that, madam,” he freely admitted, “but where does trust begin? If I can restrain myself while unfastening your gown, will you not, then, be reassured that my first concern is for you and your rapid recovery?”

“I grow weary of the argument.” She resigned herself with far less reluctance than caution demanded. Indeed, she almost felt as if she were throwing reason and security to the wind. What was there about the man that made her so pliable with him? He was handsome; none could deny the fact, but there was a quality of manliness that very much appealed to her. “Mind well your words, sir. Trust is very important in anyone’s marriage.”

Ashton chuckled as he began to struggle with the tiny fastenings, then a moment later he sobered as the back of the gown fell apart, revealing an ugly welt. He spread the opening wider to get a better view of it, causing Lierin to catch her breath.

“Easy, love,” he reassured her in a serious tone. “I only want to examine this more carefully.” He held the lamp closer as he inspected the strip of bruised and scabbed flesh that crossed her back from her left shoulder almost to the lower middle. He frowned sharply when the memory of the switch-wielding matron came to mind, but something heavier than a willow branch had produced this. “I don’t think this was caused by any fall from a horse.”

Lierin was totally confounded by the idea that she might have suffered intentional abuse before the accident. She could not imagine such an event, much less recall the circumstances of it. She turned to discuss the matter further and suffered some shock as she found herself beneath the unswerving regard of those smoldering hazel eyes. His mood had obviously changed; his questing concern had been swept away by the onslaught of his raging desire, and he made it quite evident what he wanted. The muscles beneath the darkly bronzed visage had tensed, while his nostrils flared with his heavy breathing. She felt her heart lurch forward in a sudden frantic beating, and her senses came abruptly awake. The heat of his gaze set a flame burning within her, and yet she felt all shivery inside. She was afraid he would touch her and she would yield herself in trembling eagerness. Seeking escape from his unspoken seduction, she sprang to her feet and fled across the room, taking refuge behind the dressing screen.

It was a long painful moment before Ashton regained enough control to ask, “Do you want me to send Willabelle up to you?”

“No. I don’t think that will be necessary now.”

“Perhaps I should lend further assistance to loosening your gown,” he offered.

She laughed nervously, tugging the ties of her petticoats free and pushing the billowing folds down with the pink garment. “I think you have the heart of a rake, Mr. Wingate.”

Ashton chuckled as he meandered about the room. “That’s what you said three years ago.”

“Then I haven’t entirely lost my wits.”

He met her gaze above the screen. “You’re still as beautiful as ever.”

“Will you hand me my gown and robe from the armoire?” she requested, avoiding the path where his statement might lead.

Ashton selected garments that would more readily reveal her curves and draped them over the top of the screen. As he waited for her to emerge, he doffed his own double-breasted dress coat and loosened his vest and shirt, tossing the cravat over a chair atop the coat. When she stepped around the screen, his hungry gaze devoured her softly clad back and swaying hips as she went to the dressing table. He followed her, feeling much like a rutting swamp cat prowling after a mate. Lierin sensed his approach, and her whole body tensed as he laid a hand upon her arm. A flooding excitement washed through her body, and she could not subdue the quickening pace of her heart as she was turned to meet the full force of his hunger. He studied her reaction as he lowered his face to hers. The green eyes flickered with uncertainty, then just before his open mouth captured hers, the eyelids came slowly downward and almost haltingly she yielded her lips to his. The kiss began as a gentle questing, with his mouth moving slowly upon hers, but the fires ignited like dry kindling in a roaring blaze. Passion sparked and flared ever brighter beneath his torching demands, turning her mind inside out and uncovering a need in her that she had not known existed. His hand slipped downward over her buttock, pressing her to him as his mouth slanted crushingly across hers, and with a soft moan she rose against him, molding herself more intimately to his body.

A knock on the door jolted them back to reality. Ashton raised his head with a muttered curse and tossed a glare over his shoulder at the offending portal. Though he was tempted to ignore the summons, it came again, this time louder and more insistent. With a growl he stood away from Lierin and moved across the room to the windows where he flipped a catch and pushed out the crystal panes to allow the night air to cool his mind and body.

Lierin found she had to settle her own jangled emotions before she could call out with any semblance of calm. “Yes? Who is it?”

An all too familiar voice answered through the closed portal: “Marelda Rousse. May I come in?”

Angrily Ashton ran his fingers through his hair, muttering sourly, “I’ll wring that woman’s neck yet!”

“Just a moment, Marelda,” Lierin bade and, glancing back at him, waited for him to give a nod of approval before she went to open the door.

“I left a book of prose in here earlier this week,” Marelda bubbled hurriedly as she pushed into the room. “I’d like to read it before I go to bed. It does so help to relax me.” Her eyes quickly searched the room until she found the one she had come to fetch. “Oh! Ashton!” She managed to sound surprised in spite of her suspicions. She noted their relaxed attire, and though she kept her smile, her eyes grew cold. “I’m sorry if I…ah…interrupted anything, dahling.”

Ashton’s irritation had not eased as he returned her gaze with a frown.

“I’ll get the book,” she said, reading his annoyance. “I left it over there by the chair.” She swept across the room and picked up the volume that she had seen on the table when she first visited Lierin. Though she had concocted the lie out of desperation, knowing that Ashton would probably still be in the room, it had given her an excuse to get in and hopefully halt whatever amorous play might be taking place.

“Oh, Ashton…” Marelda paused at the door. “I thought I heard a ruckus in the stables before I came up. Do you suppose there’s any trouble with the horses? Should I send someone out there to see? Or will you be going out?”

“I’ll see to it,” Ashton growled, by now thoroughly incensed with the woman.

“Do you want me to stay with Lierin while you go?” she offered in the guise of sweetness.

Lierin answered for herself, somewhat stiffly. “That won’t be necessary, Marelda.”

“Well, good night then. Pleasant dreams.” Marelda fairly sang the words as she waltzed out of the room.

Ashton gnashed his teeth as he retrieved his coat from the chair and flung it over his shoulder. “She came in here on purpose.”

Lierin was in full agreement, but having no wish to set spurs to his anger, she refrained from voicing her opinion. “I hope there’s nothing wrong with the horses.”

“Marelda probably made that up, too,” Ashton replied. His mood softened as he brought Lierin close again. “It will be torture to leave you.”

“It will be torture if you stay,” she whispered back. “I’m not ready for this yet. Go,” she urged, “see about your horses, and give me time to think.”

Ashton glanced up from his ledgers as a soft rapping came upon his door. Almost in unison, the tinkling chimes of his desk clock began to herald the hour of eleven. He rose and stretched his arms over his head to release the knot that had formed between his shoulder blades. After he had been called out to the stables on a fool’s errand, he wondered what other crisis awaited him outside his chamber door. Alas, it was far more than he had expected. Marelda had come brazenly adorned in a loosely flowing peignoir that hung open over a diaphanous gown. The gossamer cloth held nothing from his regard. Indeed, it was hardly more than a transparent web over her body. Her hair fell in a dark torrent around her shoulders, and when she moved forward into the room, his senses were assailed by a heavy, liberally used fragrance. Smiling seductively, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it, thrusting out her small breasts until they strained against the sheer cloth. The invitation in her eyes was for him to reach out and accept all that she offered. When he made no such attempt, she advanced toward him with a slow, undulating motion that was meant to captivate her audience, forcing him to retreat before the imminent threat of contact.