It was the dog that she had seen first and then she had watched Ash run up the beach and her attention had been drawn from Ash to her master. The closeness he seemed to have with Ash had made her want to stop and watch them and then she had noticed that Harry was even prettier than his dog.
Then he had come to Mark’s. Captain Harry Marlow. It was a wonderful name, too. It made her smile. Harry.
‘Hello!’ he called from a few feet away.
The pace of her heart beat lifted in a fluttering sensation.
Since they had been talking each day, her heart felt as though it had grown the wings of a butterfly. ‘Hello.’
‘How are you?’ he asked as he joined her.
Charlie glanced back along the path at the maid who’d walked with her. She had left Tilly a few feet away to mind her own business and Tilly had not come nearer to listen, which was what Charlie feared. But if anything had been said to Mark about her liaisons with Harry, which it probably had, he had not complained to her about it.
She looked at Harry, again, turning her back on Tilly. ‘I am well. How was your game last evening?’
‘Must you ask?’ He threw the stick out into the sea. ‘Do you not know?’
‘No.’
‘Then do not ask.’
She laughed as Ash returned with the stick.
Harry looked at her after he’d thrown the stick again. ‘I have a question to ask you, though.’
‘Then you must ask it.’ She was very forward with Harry. She kept surprising herself. But it was the atmosphere he exuded. He always spoke so liberally it made her more confident to reply. But she had been forward with him from the beginning because she had been desperate to know this man with his dog. So desperate she had dared to write. But she had told herself that a woman of her status need not worry over what was right or wrong or fear the judgement of others. She had transcended those things. It was the one benefit of her status—she might do as she wished and she had wished to meet Ash and speak to Harry. That was not a crime.
Her chin lifted and her back straightened in denial of the accusation of forwardness that continued charging at her in her head.
Harry turned and faced her fully as Ash ran into the shallow, frothing ripples, chasing the stick as the tide pulled it out on a retreating wave. ‘If I hired a room in an inn, would you come there with me?’
‘Now?’ To… Oh… She had not thought about where this might lead. She had thought of nothing other than that she admired him and she had wanted to know him. But. ‘My maid is with me.’ Her heart had jolted suddenly into a sharp pace.
‘Tomorrow. Would you meet me there?’
Her heart was pounding as hard as her father had used to pound a hammer on a straight bar of iron to twist and curve it to make a horse’s shoe. She had not imagined, and yet she had in daydreams sometimes thought about what it would be like to kiss Harry.
But to make this a sin…
Ash shook the sea water off her coat, spraying them both. Then Harry took the stick from Ash’s mouth, lifted it and held it out of Ash’s reach. The dog barked and leapt around, waiting for it to be thrown again, then it was and Ash went racing after it.
Harry looked at her. ‘Will you?’
‘Yes.’ She spoke without thought. She spoke from longing. Yes, she would like to be with a man like Harry. If she must share a bed with a man, then why could it not be with a man like Harry? She was being forced into sin anyway.
When Ash returned next, Charlie took the stick and threw it out again, though it did not go as far as it would have if Harry had thrown it. She spoke about the dog, commenting on Ash’s ability to swim in the waves, to hide her awkwardness and move the conversation away from more personal, embarrassing things.
She had agreed to share a bed with him. She would not be able to sleep this night. She must think of a reason not to bring Tilly tomorrow. Tilly might have laughed with her over the pretty dog and the attractive officer Charlie had pointed at in the distance, but she had not approved of Charlie speaking with Harry. She would certainly not approve of her going to an inn with him and if she told Mark that… She did not want Mark to know. He would spoil this. She was sure he would.
When Harry told her it was time for him to return to the barracks, he also said, ‘Shall I meet you in the street outside the inn tomorrow?’
Her heart thundered in her chest as though a bolt of lightning had struck her. ‘Could we not meet at the corner, there?’ She pointed to the street he usually appeared from. ‘I would feel uncomfortable standing outside an inn alone.’
‘Of course, forgive me. I did not think. Yes. Let us meet on the corner.’ He bowed slightly and when he straightened his very pale-blue eyes looked directly into hers, as though looking for an answer to something.
He had beautiful eyes. They were his most notable feature. His hair was dark and his eyelashes and eyebrows dark and against those his blue eyes were a striking contrast.
He took hold of her hand, lifted it and pressed a kiss on the back of her kid glove.
Warmth rose in her skin, no one had kissed the back of her hand before. She pulled her hand free, bobbed a curtsey, which was silly, smiled and then turned away.
He would think her a fool now.
She glanced back. He was walking away with Ash at his side.
She held the hand that he’d kissed. She could still feel the heat of his grip as he’d held it. Her heart beat out the rhythm of a hammer strike once more. Tomorrow…
When she had written to ask him to meet her, she had not thought things through; she ought to have realised where it might lead. Yet perhaps she had known, really. She had wanted to know the handsome man and his dog with a desire that had become an obsession and she had dreamed of him. Now she pictured him in her imagination instead of seeing Mark when they did that.
Hush mind! She did not want to think of that. She would not think about it outside of the room in which it must be done.
But with Harry…
Do not think! She ordered herself. She would do it to preserve their friendship. She would do it because she enjoyed his conversation and she liked looking at him and playing with his dog.
When she returned to Mark’s house she found a reason to remain in her room until dinner and she hoped she did not have to go to Mark’s room later.
He did not ask for her.
~
Once Harry had completed his hours of duty, he let Ash run in the barracks’ yard, then took the dog to the stable. He left him there when he walked Obsidian out of the stall.
He had dreamed of Charlotte last night. But then he had not lain with a woman for a couple of weeks and the need to do so was flooding his blood. The sense of escape achieved was as addictive as it was to gamble or drink.
He patted Obsidian’s neck, then set his foot into the stirrup and lifted up, swinging his leg across the animal’s rump to take his seat in the saddle.
‘Where are you off to without Ash?’
Harry looked across the yard at Gareth, who strode towards him. A strange sensation tightened the muscle in his stomach. Fear. He did not want his plans for the afternoon disrupted, and yet—there was guilt too. An emotion he knew well. But it was a guilt he could not really explain. Perhaps it was because he wished to keep this secret and keeping secrets meant that there was a sense of doing wrong. ‘For a ride.’ Was all he said in answer. They all had hours when they wished to be alone, Gareth