‘Oh, Maman, we have been so foolish, Gideon and I! We wasted so much time. If only—’ She broke off, her head going up as she heard the faint scrunch of gravel. ‘Is that a carriage?’ She shook her head. ‘No, no, it is the wind rustling the leaves on the trees. I vow, Maman, I am becoming quite a nervous being, jumping at shadows...’
But her mother was not listening. She was looking past Dominique towards the house, such a look of wonder on her face that Dominique found her breathing interrupted by the rapid thudding of her heart. Fearing disappointment, she forced her unwilling body to turn. The long windows leading into the house were thrown open and a tall man stood there, his thin frame slightly stooped. His white hair was brushed back from a pale brow and a pair of familiar dark eyes looked out from his gaunt face.
‘P-Papa?’
With a stifled cry her mother ran forwards.
‘Jerome? Oh, my love, is it really you?’
The old man stepped out on to the terrace, holding out his arms.
‘Mais oui, ma chère.’
Whatever else had changed, his voice had not. It was firm and warm and brought a host of memories flooding back. Her mother was already in his arms, weeping softly into his shoulder. Dominique followed more slowly, not sure of her welcome. Over her mother’s head Jerome smiled. He freed one hand and reached out for her.
‘Dominique. Daughter.’
She took his hand and for the first time in many months allowed the tears to spill over.
‘Welcome home, Papa.’ She moved closer, hugging both her parents before stepping away. However much she wanted to be part of it she realised this was their time, two lovers reunited. Lord Rotham was standing in the doorway, his head bowed. He had one hand over his face and his shoulders shaking. His image was blurred by her tears, but she was filled with dread. She had managed to keep her fears buried deep, except in the dark reaches of the night when the demons would taunt her with the thought that Gideon would never return. Now those fears leaped free and she found herself comparing her mother’s newfound happiness with her own bleak future.
But it was not only her unhappiness. She wiped away her tears and went to the viscount, laying a hand on his arm.
‘Oh, my lord—’ There was a movement in the shadowy room behind him and her heart stopped. ‘G-Gideon?’
‘Yes,’ said the viscount, his voice a little unsteady. ‘He is here. He is safe.’
He stepped aside and with a sob she flew across the room to the figure standing in the shadows. Gideon caught her in a fierce hug that lifted her off her feet. He was dusty from the road and smelled of dirt and horses, but she did not care, for when he sought her mouth and kissed her she lost herself in the taste and scent of her own dear husband.
When at last he released her she clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder.
‘Oh, Gideon, I was so frightened you would not come back!’
His arms tightened.
‘How could I not, when I knew you were waiting for me?’ He put his fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up towards him again. ‘I dreamed of this moment every night.’ He kissed her again, gently this time, his lips a soft caress. ‘I cannot tell you how much I have missed you.’
‘Let us go and sit down, I want to know everything.’
‘Later,’ he said, laughing. ‘I am far too dirty to sully my father’s furniture. Let us join the others in the garden.’ He looked up at the silent figure standing by the open windows. ‘My lord, will you come, too?’
‘Thank you, no. I shall find Colne and tell him to delay dinner by at least an hour.’ He held out his hand. ‘I am glad to have you back, my son.’
‘Thank you, Father. I am pleased to be here.’ He clasped the proffered hand for a long moment, holding his father’s eyes until the viscount gave a little nod and walked away.
* * *
Gideon kept his arm about Dominique as he led her out into the garden. Jerome and Mrs Rainault were some distance away, strolling through the roses, arms linked and their heads close together.
‘They have a great deal to catch up on,’ murmured Dominique, following his glance.
‘As have we.’
Dominique held him even tighter.
‘We read such terrifying reports—was it very dangerous?’
‘A little, of course, but we had many people to help us, including some of the Duc du Chailly’s family and friends.’ He was silent for a moment and Dominique waited patiently for him to speak again. ‘There are many good people in France, Dominique. I was wrong to harbour such hatred for so many years.’
She waved one hand at him.
‘That is all in the past, my love. And I haven’t yet thanked you, for thwarting Max’s plans to take my father’s fortune for his own.’ She flushed and added quietly, ‘Perhaps I should thank Mrs Bennet, too.’
‘Yes, only I doubt you could find her. But I owe her quite a debt, too.’
‘Oh?’ Dominique stiffened as jealousy pricked her.
Gideon’s arm tightened and she glanced up. He was smiling, his eyes boring into her, as if he could read her very thoughts.
He said, ‘If she had not agreed to Max’s plan in the first place I would never have married you and would never have known how happy a man could be.’
‘Oh,’ she said again, her jealousy melting away to be replaced by a tingling excitement deep in her core.
He leaned closer.
‘You must come upstairs with me now. I cannot wait until tonight to make love to you.’
She blushed.
‘I would like that, but what about Maman and Papa?’
‘They will not miss us, and if they do, they will understand.’
Gently but firmly he led her back into the house. It was all they could do not to run through the rooms and up the stairs to his bedchamber, but as soon as they were inside all restraint disappeared. They came together eagerly, exchanging hot kisses even as they undressed one another, tearing off the layers until they could lie upon the bed together, skin against skin.
Dominique revelled in the kisses Gideon showered upon her body and she returned them with equal fervour. She cupped his proud erection in her hands, worshipped it with her mouth even as he gently parted her thighs to bestow upon her that most intimate of kisses. The sensations he aroused with his tongue and his mouth soon had her falling back upon the bed, surrendering to the delicious torment. She moaned softly, shivering as wave after wave of excitement rippled through her. His tongue played her, circling and lapping at her core. Her body arched as she felt the climax approaching. She was almost out of control, aching with pleasure, wanting him to stop and at the same time wanting him to carry her onwards.
She reached for him, her fingers clutching at the solid muscle of his shoulders as he slid his body over hers, claiming her mouth for a deep, penetrating kiss even as he thrust into her. Her body tightened about him and she cried out with the sheer joy of it. He moved carefully, stroking her, taking her with him to that final shuddering, shattering climax, a blinding explosion of thought and feeling as the world splintered and disintegrated, leaving them shocked, sated and exhausted.
Gideon wrapped himself around her and pulled her close.
‘My wife.’ His breath was warm on her ear as he murmured the words. ‘My own.’
She twisted in his arms so that she could hold him.
‘And