‘You came because you wanted to speak with me,’ Deb repeated softly. Despite the extremity of the situation she suddenly felt a lot warmer.

‘And got knocked on the head for my pains,’ Richard confirmed bitterly. ‘I cannot believe that I fell for the oldest trick in the book. I suppose this is the nadir of my career as a spy catcher. I had best resign.’

‘If you do, you will have to find another purpose in life,’ Deb said.

‘Very true.’ There was an odd note to Richard’s voice now. His hand reached for hers again, caught it and held it. ‘Could you give me that purpose?’ he asked.

Deb had nothing to go on but his voice and the touch of his body against hers. The first was steady but the second conveyed something sweet. All thoughts of the Midwinter spies fled as more important matters caught her attention. Hope trapped her and held her silent, somewhere between apprehension and desire.

‘Listen to me, Deb,’ Richard said abruptly. ‘We do not have much time before they come to unveil the private view. I know I have gone about this all the wrong way. I know I have misled you and that it appears I gave no significance to your wishes, and I can plead no excuse other than that I love you desperately and have wanted to marry you for a very long time-’

‘From the first?’ Deb said, in a small voice.

She heard the smile in his words then. ‘No. From the first I wanted to make love to you. I was a rake then, as you know.’

‘And now?’

‘Now I realise that my past indiscretions are likely to lose me the one woman that I want to marry. I understand that you would find it difficult to trust me, both because of your own experiences and because of my past behaviour. It is the ultimate irony of a rake’s life, I suppose. All I can tell you is that if you choose to marry me of your own free will I should be the happiest man alive and I would never betray you.’

His words fell into the silence. Deb swallowed hard. He had been open and honest with her and had offered her all that she wanted, but there was something she had to tell him…

She took a deep breath. ‘Richard…’ Her voice trembled, then strengthened. ‘Thank you for what you have said. There is something that you should know, however. I have not been entirely honest with you.’

There was a different quality to the silence now. It felt alive, waiting, trembling on the edge. Deb’s nerve almost deserted her. She knew she had to finish this quickly.

‘I was never married to Neil Stratton,’ she said, in a rush. ‘I did not know that he was already married when I eloped with him. He never told me. It was only after he died that I discovered he already had a wife and child.’ Her voice faltered. ‘By then, of course, Neil had seduced me and I was already ruined.’ She shook. She could not help herself. ‘We contrived a pretence, Ross and Olivia and I. I was to live here quietly in Midwinter and pretend to be the respectable widow that I was not.’ Her voice rose a little. ‘No one knew. Ross has paid to support Neil’s real wife and child ever since-poor girl, she never meant to cause trouble, but her very existence spelt my ruin. I am sorry. I was so very stupid. I should not have trusted Neil-God help me, I thought it was exciting to be courted in secret and to run away to Gretna! I was so foolish and so impetuous and rash-’ She broke off as Richard’s lips brushed her cheek very softly.

‘Deb,’ he said.

‘I am sorry,’ Deb said again, wretchedly. ‘I have been so afraid all the time and I tried so hard not to do foolish things, but sometimes I cannot seem to suppress them.’

‘Did you think that spending the night with me was a foolish thing and to be regretted?’ Richard asked.

Deb shook her head and unconsciously strained a little closer to the comfort of his body. ‘No. It was a wonderful thing! But I never meant to fall in love with you, Richard, and I certainly never intended to marry, for I was so afraid of trusting again and being hurt and losing my self-respect. And I was afraid that when you knew you would have no good opinion of me-’

‘Deb,’ Richard said again. His voice was hard with suppressed anger and Deb shuddered to hear it, though she could not be sure whether it was turned against her or against Neil Stratton. And when Richard spoke again he had moderated his tone, though she could still hear the violence underneath.

‘Do you think,’ he said, ‘that I give a damn about whether or not you were truly married to Neil Stratton? If you love me and wish to be married to me, then that is all that matters.’

Deb was trembling fiercely now. ‘But I am a fallen woman, Richard! Even now, if the truth came out, I would be utterly ruined! That was one of the reasons I struggled so hard against my attraction to you, and why Ross and Olivia were shocked that I could make the same mistake twice, only this time knowing what I did, with my eyes open…’

‘Why did you do it?’ Richard asked.

Deb hesitated. ‘I thought it was because I was attracted to you too strongly to resist, but the truth was that I was falling in love with you, and I wanted to love you and desperately wanted you to love me too.’

‘That is more than enough for me,’ Richard said, and Deb could hear the smile in his voice now and her heart started to ease, though she still hesitated.

‘I do not understand why what happened before does not matter to you, Richard.’

‘It matters to me that someone hurt you so badly,’ Richard said. His voice softened. ‘The rest is not important. How could it be, when you chose of your own free will to give yourself to me? Deb, it is you I love, not Mrs Deborah Stratton, widow, or Miss Deborah Walton, spinster, or however you or society wishes to describe you. It is what you are-warm and impulsive and vibrant and so alive-that is important to me, and if you love and trust me too, then that is all that matters.’

Deb smiled shakily. ‘It is true that I was not sure if I could trust a rake,’ she said shyly, ‘but I know that you are not like Neil. You are an honourable man.’

Richard angled his head and kissed her hard, pressing her head back against the wooden bars. She gave a little gasp of protest and he straightened.

‘You can trust me.’ His voice was not so steady now. ‘I swear it. I love you. I would never hurt you. God knows, Deborah, it must surely be apparent to you that I would walk across burning coals for you if I had to. I would probably eat burning coals if you asked me.’

Deb tilted her head up towards him. ‘Richard…’

‘Yes?’ The word was like a caress on her skin. Deb wriggled.

‘The burning coals will not be necessary. But we have been away from the dining room for a considerable time. People will have noticed.’

‘They will indeed.’

‘Taken with the rumours about last night, I fear that your freedom is lost. You will have to marry me.’

There was a pause.

‘Are you proposing to me, Mrs Stratton?’ Richard said, after a moment. Once again Deb could hear the amusement in his voice and she felt warm.

‘I believe that I must. In a moment they will find us, you see…’ Even as she spoke, Deb heard the scrape of a door and the sound of voices at the other end of the ballroom.

‘They will whip off this damnable sheet and find you and me tied up together beneath it in a wholly scandalous and utterly compromising fashion. There will be no alternative other than a quick marriage to silence the gossips.’

She felt Richard bend his neck so that his lips could brush her hair. ‘How quick?’

‘Oh, as quickly as we can make it? By special licence? So that we can return to the hunting lodge for our honeymoon?’

She felt the easel shake as he laughed. The voices and footsteps were coming closer. The ballroom was filling up with Lady Sally’s visitors.

‘The hunting lodge…’ Richard said. ‘I am so glad that you enjoyed it.’

Deb could feel herself blushing. Suddenly the warmth of the sheet was stifling, the press of Richard’s body stirring all the feelings they had explored with intimate delight the previous night. ‘I did,’ she said. ‘I am sorry-I never thanked you.’

‘It was my pleasure,’ Richard said. ‘Truly.’

His mouth captured hers, warm and tantalising, making Deb’s mind reel. Briefly she freed herself.

‘Richard! Any moment now they will see us-’

‘Let them.’

He kissed her again and Deb succumbed to the pure pleasure of his touch. She burned at every point their bodies were in contact. The easel strained as they pulled on their bonds, prompted by an instinctive desire to hold one another. Deb gasped in frustration as she could not break free and gasped again as Richard angled his head to kiss her more deeply, pressing his hard body against every yielding line of hers. His tongue curled lazily against hers and an infinitely sweet sensation flooded Deb’s veins and made her melt with longing. She clenched her fingers about the wooden upright of the easel.

‘I love you,’ Richard murmured, as his lips left hers to trace the line of her throat and move down to tease the soft skin above the collar of her gown. ‘Always.’

‘This is the moment that we have all been waiting for! Light the candles, please.’ Lady Sally’s voice spoke suddenly from nearby, making Deb jump. She tried to pull away from Richard, but he was having none of it and she would not have been able to put much distance between them even had he co-operated with her. Instead he nibbled gently at the sensitive skin below Deb’s ear, sending goose bumps along her skin. She could have sworn that he was smiling. It felt as though he was smiling.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Lady Sally continued, ‘may I present my watercolour calendar, which I am sure will be the greatest of sensations-’

‘Richard,’ Deb whispered desperately, ‘we mustn’t-’

Richard’s only response was to kiss her with prolonged and deliberate intensity until she forgot everything else and was grateful for the support of the wooden easel, without which she would surely have tumbled to the floor.