Quinn brought the axe down, splitting the log cleanly in half. He picked up another and placed it on the block. His muscles screamed at him to stop but he couldn’t. He had to keep working, to keep at bay the burning desire. It had almost consumed him this morning, when he had pulled off that damned mobcap and Serena’s hair had tumbled free, a sunlit waterfall rippling down over her shoulders. She had been incandescent then, angry, raging, but gloriously alive. He had wanted to carry her off to his bed and make love to her, slowly, thoroughly, and then to watch her sleeping with that golden cloud of hair spread over the pillow.
Confound it, put such things from your mind or you will go mad!
He had given Serena his word that he would keep his distance, but every time he saw her it became more difficult. At first, his overriding thought had been to protect her, but now she was recovering and the glimpses of her fiery spirit were testing his self-control to the limit. Her passionate nature called to him, like some kindred spirit. He longed to meet fire with fire, but even the slightest hint of desire brought back her fear. Witness how she had recoiled from him in the library.
Perhaps she was wise to dress like a nun, to remind him that he must not touch her. He swung the axe again and again. The pile of firewood was growing, but when he glanced at the newly split logs even they reminded him of Serena’s fair hair, gleaming in the sun. He wanted her, but he was damned if he knew how to proceed.
* * *
‘Good morning, my lady. ’Tis a sunny day for a change. Last night’s rain has cleared the air and not before time.’
Serena slowly sat up in her bed and reached for the cup her maid had placed on the bedside table. Despite Polly’s cheerful words, she felt only discontent as she gazed out of the window at the clear blue sky.
It was seven days since the Beckfords’ ball. Six since Quinn had torn the cap from her head and at the same time ripped all pretence from her soul. In the past week neither of them had mentioned that incident, save one oblique reference when Quinn told her he was no judge of female attire and had no wish to dictate to her.
He had said, ‘You must wear whatsoever you deem fitting for your station. Whatever makes you comfortable.’
Serena had thanked him politely, but although she continued to wear the dresses Dorothea had purchased for her, she never again donned any of the caps. Quinn was perfectly correct about the gowns and she bitterly regretted allowing her sister-in-law to dictate to her, but she was loath to go to the considerable expense of replacing them, when Quinn had as good as told her that he had no interest in what she wore.
She gazed now at the pale pink muslin that Polly had fetched from the linen press. She remembered Dorothea trying to force the same colour upon her during her first Season. She had protested violently on that occasion and, fortunately, Russ and Molly had supported her, allowing her to wear the brighter, jewel-like colours she preferred. The discontent turned into irritation and she waved a hand at the maid.
‘Take that dress away and dispose of it, Polly. Bring me something else to wear.’
‘Yes, m’m.’
It was a tiny act of rebellion, but Serena felt a little better for it.
* * *
Half an hour later she made her way to the breakfast room, checking in the doorway when she saw Quinn was sitting at the table. For the past week he had been out of the house by the time she came downstairs.
‘Oh—good morning, my lord. I did not expect to see you.’
‘I wanted to speak to you.’ He rose and pulled out a chair for her. When she was seated he remained behind her. ‘That gown is another of Lady Hambridge’s choosing, I suppose.’
‘It is, my lord.’ She managed to speak coolly, although her spine tingled, knowing he was so close.
‘Olive green and plain as a Quaker. Designed to blend into the shadows.’ When she did not reply he went on, ‘Is that a style and a colour you would choose for yourself?’ He gave a little bark of laughter. ‘Your silence tells me it is not. I have given you carte blanche to spend what you like on clothes, Serena.’
He had returned to his seat opposite and she flushed slightly, not meeting his eyes. ‘I know, my lord. You are very good and I shall do so, in time.’
She risked one swift glance from under her lashes, bracing herself for his reply. He looked as if he would speak but thought better of it. Instead he reached for the coffee pot and filled her cup.
‘What are you doing today?’
‘I must speak to Mrs Talbot, and to Cook about tonight’s dinner.’
‘And are you free once you have seen them?’
‘Lady Brook promised to call this morning.’
‘Good lord, is she visiting you again today? The knocker has not stopped this past se’ennight.’
Serena’s tension eased at the familiar, brusque tone. They were on safer ground now. She knew that despite his grumbling, Quinn was not displeased his neighbours were so attentive.
‘Since the ball.’ She nodded. ‘It is very gratifying.’
‘I dare say. What is Lady Brook’s excuse today?’
‘When I saw her yesterday she promised me a receipt for making apple tart the French way. She swears it is superior to any other method.’
Quinn stared at her across the breakfast table. ‘Good God. Are you so at a loss for entertainment that you must resort to baking?’
‘By no means. I shall accept gratefully and pass it on to Cook.’
‘I am glad to hear it.’ He refilled his own coffee cup. ‘Are you very bored here, Serena?’
She looked up, startled. ‘N-no, not at all. My days are always full. I go through the menus with Cook and discuss household matters with Mrs Talbot. Then there are flowers to cut for the house—’
‘Those are your household duties,’ he interrupted her. ‘What do you do for pleasure?’
She felt a little flutter of unease and said carefully, ‘There are morning calls to be paid and received.’
‘Yes, when you discuss the best way to cook apples. How stimulating!’
His tone was scathing and she bridled. ‘And you enjoy the benefits of such conversations when you sit down to your dinner!’
His eyes widened in surprise, but there was something more gleaming in them. Something that set her pulse racing. She quickly looked away.
‘I do indeed. I beg your pardon.’ His tone was perfectly polite, amused, even, but she dared not look at him again. Instead she finished her bread and butter and pushed aside her plate.
‘Are you done?’
‘Yes.’
His lip curled. ‘That is barely enough to keep a bird alive.’
‘It is all I want.’
‘Very well. Then run upstairs and fetch your shawl. I wish to show you something. Outside.’
‘Now? I have arranged to see Mrs Talbot.’
‘Send word that you will see her later.’
She could not help it. She stiffened at his autocratic tone, her brows rising. Quinn met her affronted gaze with narrowed eyes, then with a slight nod he threw down his napkin and stood, saying with exaggerated civility, ‘Perhaps, my lady, you would be so good as to oblige me in this. I would very much appreciate your company.’
The change in manner brought the heat to her cheeks. ‘Of course, my lord.’
‘Good.’ He walked to the door and held it open for her. ‘I shall wait for you in the hall.’
Silently she left the table and walked to the door. As she passed him she glanced up. There was the glimmer of a smile in his eyes and her lips curved up a little in response. Really, she thought, he might be quite charming if he put his mind to it. The idea persisted only as long as it took her to cross the hall, for as she ascended the stairs he called after her.
‘Five minutes. And do not keep me waiting!’
* * *
Slightly more than five minutes later Serena made her way back to the hall. Perhaps it was the sunshine streaming through the house, but the lethargy that had made her limbs feel so heavy and slow these past few weeks had eased and she ran lightly down the stairs, one hand on the rail the other clutching a thin silk shawl she hoped would be sufficient to keep off any light breeze.
As she descended the last flight she saw Quinn. He was staring out of the open door, his hands clasped behind his back. Not for the first time she thought how well he looked in country dress, his legs encased in buckskins and glossy top boots. A dark brown frock coat was stretched across his broad shoulders and the light flooding in through the open door brought out a tawny glint in his mane of light brown hair, reminding her of the big cats she had seen at the Exeter Exchange. But those animals had been caged, safely behind bars. Quinn, on the other hand was here, just feet away from her.
And he is your husband.
Serena slowed as she reached the last few stairs, trying to understand the welter of emotions flooding through her. She wanted to flee, although she knew not where. At that moment Quinn turned towards her and the world steadied when he met her eyes. She trusted him to take care of her.
‘Well, my lord, I am here.’ She summoned up a smile as she crossed the hall.
‘Yes.’
He took the shawl from her and draped it about her shoulders as they made their way out of the house. In the enclosed courtyard the summer sun was hot and bright and Serena stopped, blinking.
‘Where are we going, sir, is it far?’
‘No. Only to the stables.’
He pulled her fingers on to his arm and they set off again, not through the gatehouse as she had expected, but via a small enclosed passage opposite, where a solid oak door led to a small footbridge across the moat and directly into the new stable block.
‘My grandfather had this entrance added to the house when he rebuilt the stables some fifty years ago. It made it quicker for the servants to summon his carriage.’
Serena nodded. Her old self would have explored every nook and cranny of her new home as soon as possible. Instead she had allowed Mrs Talbot to show her around Melham Court, going only to those rooms the housekeeper considered it necessary for the lady of the house to visit. Now she felt the first stirrings of curiosity to see more.
The stables were far more modern than the main house but equally well maintained. Not a weed was to be seen in the yard, where the cobbles were being swept by a couple of young stable hands under the watchful eye of Bourne, the head groom. The boys did not stop their work but Bourne gave a respectful nod in their direction.
‘Morning, m’lord. M’lady.’
Serena acknowledged his greeting, then looked up at her companion.
‘I have not been here before,’ she remarked. ‘I should very much like to look around, if I may?’
‘Of course, I will show you.’ Quinn turned to Bourne, who was waiting expectantly. ‘We shall be back in, say, ten minutes.’
‘Very good, m’lord.’
Quinn took Serena through the nearest double doors, into the carriage house. From there they progressed through the harness room and on via a feed store to the looseboxes and stalls. There were several men and boys in the stables, grooming the horses, mucking out the stalls or cleaning the carriages. Quinn presented every one of them to Serena as they made their way through the building.
‘I am impressed,’ she told him, when they had reached the end of the tour. ‘You appear to know everyone and everything that goes on here.’
‘A good master takes an interest in his staff. I look after them and they work hard for me.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘I admit I have rarely seen so many of them working at any one time. I suspect they were eager for a glimpse of their new mistress.’
‘It was remiss of me not to come before.’
‘Nonsense. My parents rarely came to the stables. I doubt my mother even knew the way here.’
He said no more, but Serena marvelled that he should have grown up to be such a considerate master if his parents were so indifferent. They had reached the loose boxes, in one of which was a powerful black horse.
‘My favourite hack, Neptune.’ Quinn introduced him. ‘French-bred. He’s an ugly brute, but strong. He can carry me all morning without tiring.’
Serena reached up one hand to scratch the long, bony nose. ‘It must be difficult to find a mount that is up to your weight.’
He grunted. ‘Luckily I don’t aspire to cut a figure in Hyde Park.’
‘Nor I.’
‘But you do ride?’ he asked her, a slight frown in his eyes. ‘You and Lottie were talking of it at supper the other evening.’
‘Why yes, but not in town,’ she replied. ‘That is, I was used to do so when I was living with Molly and Russ, but Henry prefers his carriage and Dorothea does not ride at all. They would not countenance my going out without them, even in the most respectable party.’
She could not keep the note of regret from her voice and felt slightly aggrieved when she saw that Quinn’s brow had cleared. Perhaps he, like Dorothea, considered riding to be an unladylike activity.
She said, a little coldly, ‘Thank you for taking the time to show me over your stables, my lord, but perhaps you would like to tell me why you wanted me to accompany you?’
‘I should indeed.’ He took her arm. ‘Come along.’
The sunlight was blinding as they stepped into the yard and Serena was momentarily dazzled, but as her vision cleared she saw that Bourne was walking a dapple-grey horse around the yard.
‘There. The mare is what I wanted to show you.’
‘She is a beauty,’ said Serena, as Bourne brought the horse closer. ‘Is she a new addition to your stable?’
‘My tiger fetched her yesterday. She answers to the name of Crystal. Irish-bred and used to a lady’s saddle.’
It took a moment for his words to register with Serena.
‘You...you mean she is for me?’
‘If you want her. Perhaps I should have discussed it with you first, but when Bourne told me yesterday morning that Lord Hackleby was selling off his horses I rode over to Pirton to see if there was anything in his stable suitable for a lady. If I had had more notice you might have come with me, but you had already arranged to call upon the Brooks.’
The groom brought the mare to a stand before them. Serena slowly put out her hand and ran it along the glossy neck, murmuring quietly to the animal.
‘Hackleby bought her for his late wife, who was an enthusiastic rider,’ Quinn told her. ‘He says the mare is very well mannered, if handled properly. He also said she is fast and strong, can go for miles and will jump anything. Since Lady Hackleby died last winter the horse has been exercised by a groom. Clem put her through her paces and thinks she is a little out of condition, but with regular use would soon return to form. We have the lady’s saddle, too, which I hope will fit you well enough until we can have one made for you.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Of course, if you would rather choose your own mount, we need not keep her.’
‘No, no, she is perfect for me. She sounds as if she has spirit, too, which is just what I like.’ She glanced up at him. ‘How did you know?’
‘I did not expect anything less of you.’
She could not resist returning his smile.
‘Not that I can take all the credit for it,’ he continued. ‘I wrote to Hambridge some weeks ago, asking him what sort of horse would suit you. His reply was that I should find you something steady. An old animal, perhaps. One that could be relied upon not to bolt with you.’
‘A slug, in fact!’ she replied tartly.
‘Exactly.’ His lips twitched. ‘However, he also informed me that you had always been quite heedless of your own safety and had regularly flouted his advice regarding which of his horses were suitable for you. From that I gathered that a safe, steady mount was the last thing you would want.’
Serena’s heart swelled. She knew an impulse to throw her arms about Quinn—well, as far as they would go around him. Such a display would shock the servants and might well give Quinn a disgust of her. Instead she tucked her arm into his.
‘How can I ever thank you, my lord?’
Quinn nodded to Bourne to take the mare away and turned to escort Serena back to the house.
‘By riding out with me as soon as Lady Brook has gone today. That is, if you have a riding habit?’
‘I do, somewhere. It will be in one of the trunks we brought from Bruton Street. I am afraid it is not in the latest style.’ She hesitated, then said haltingly, ‘Dorothea did not include a new habit in my wedding trousseau.’
‘No doubt she disapproves of ladies riding.’
Serena chuckled. ‘She does.’
‘It is of a piece with her taste in gowns.’ He bent a searching look upon her. ‘Tell me truthfully, my dear, do you like any of the clothes she bought for you?’
She sobered and looked away. ‘It was a difficult time. Dorothea acted as she thought best.’
Quinn held back a snort of derision and refrained from giving his opinion of Serena’s sister-in-law.
He said decisively, ‘I shall ask Lottie to recommend her favourite modistes and we will have them come here to fit you out with more suitable gowns.’
‘The ones I have are perfectly suitable, my lord.’
‘Aye, for an ageing dowager,’ he retorted, then stopped. ‘They are not the style you would have chosen for yourself, are they?’ he asked again and put his hands on her shoulders, ‘Tell me truthfully, Serena.’
‘No.’ She looked away, but he could see the distress in her face. ‘But my judgement is not to be trusted. Not for the world would I want to disgrace you, my lord.’
Something contracted, hard as iron, around his heart. Without thinking he drew her into his arms. Immediately she stiffened. It was like holding a block of wood, was his first thought, quickly followed by the realisation that it was terror holding her motionless. Carefully he released her, knowing one wrong word and she would run from him. He pulled her hand back on to his arm and continued to walk.
‘You could never disgrace me, Serena.’
He was looking straight ahead, but from the corner of his eye he saw her hand come up and dash away a tear.
* * *
When they reached the house, Serena excused herself and went up to her room to divest herself of her shawl and tidy her hair. Her head was still full of Dorothea’s shrill tones, telling her how fortunate she was and how little she deserved it, but deep, deep inside was a faint glimmer of happiness.
She sat through Lady Brook’s visit with outward calm, all the time wondering if Polly had managed to find her old riding habit. She had not needed it at all this year so perhaps it was gone. That thought pierced the blanket of indifference that was wrapped about Serena and she realised with something of a shock how much she wanted to ride the beautiful dapple-grey Quinn had bought for her. Something bubbled up inside. Something she had not felt for months. Joyful anticipation.
* * *
Quinn paced the hall. Lady Brook had left the house twenty minutes ago and Dunnock had informed him that my lady had gone directly upstairs to change. How long would that take her? he wondered. Fashionable ladies were notorious for taking an age over their toilette. Perhaps he had been over-eager in sending word to the stables. Then he heard a soft, melodious voice behind him.
‘I trust I have not kept you waiting, my lord.’
He turned and the breath caught in his throat. Serena had paused, halfway down the stairs, one daintily gloved hand on the rail, the other holding her leather crop and the gathered skirts. A single glance told him that although the riding habit was not new, it was the work of a master. The soft wool jacket fitted snugly, the masculine tailoring and military frogging only serving to accentuate her womanly curves. Beneath her chin was a snowy cravat, tied with a simple knot. Her golden curls were tamed by a matching and very mannish beaver hat with a small brim.
The ensemble was both fetching and eye-catching. The bold colour suited her, too. It was the colour of young, rain-washed evergreens and it enhanced the creamy tones of her skin. It was the sort of outfit worn by a confident young woman, one who did not give a jot what the world thought of her. The woman Serena had once been. Now he read uncertainty in her brown eyes and smiled to reassure her.
‘Not at all—you are in good time,’ he said. ‘I have ordered the horses to be brought to the door and they are not yet here.’
‘Oh, good. I would not have had them standing in this sun.’ She sounded relieved and was more forthcoming than he had ever known her. ‘Polly found my habit you see. Fortunately, it still fits, even if it is a little sun-bleached in places. That is what comes of wearing it out of doors in all weathers, I suppose.’
She chattered away as she descended the last few stairs but Quinn was not attending, distracted by her dainty feet, encased in half-boots of soft kid. Strange, how arousing the glimpse of a shapely ankle could be.
‘I hope you do not think it too shabby for our outing, my lord.’
‘Hmm?’ Her soft voice caught his attention. She was regarding him anxiously and he profoundly hoped his face gave no indication of his wandering thoughts. He cleared his throat. ‘No, no, you look quite delightful,’ he told her, further alarming himself with such a candid reply. He swung round towards the open door, his ears picking up the sound of hooves on the gravel. ‘Shall we go?’
* * *
Serena’s cheeks flamed. Silently she accompanied Quinn out to the drive, where Bourne was waiting with the dapple-grey and Quinn’s diminutive tiger was holding on to Neptune. At the sight of his master, the powerful black horse threw up his head, almost lifting Clem from his feet and causing that worthy to remonstrate vociferously, chastising the animal in colourful language that made Serena stifle a giggle. It dispelled much of the awkwardness she had felt at Quinn’s unexpected compliment.
‘That’s enough, Clem,’ barked Quinn, but there was no mistaking the quiver of laughter in his voice. ‘You had best walk Neptune around again while I attend to my lady.’
Serena looked at the mare and felt a ripple of excitement. This was no docile hack, but a large, spirited animal that would need all her skill to master. The meekness and deference she considered so necessary in her role as Quinn’s wife had no place here.
With Bourne holding the mare’s head, Quinn threw Serena up into the saddle and remained close until she was securely seated. She did her best to ignore the strong hands that brushed her skirts as he checked the girth and the stirrup, but she felt strangely bereft when he pronounced himself satisfied and stepped away. She buried the thought. She must give her attention to controlling the mare.
‘Thank you, my lord.’ She gathered up the reins and nodded to the groom. ‘You may release her now, Bourne, I have her.’
‘Are you sure, my lady? She’s very fresh. And ’tis a while since she’s had a lady on ’er back.’
‘And it is a while since I have been on a horse,’ replied Serena, smiling. ‘We shall soon grow accustomed to one another. Let her go.’
Free of the groom’s hand on her halter, the mare threw up her head, but Serena was ready. She turned the animal, murmuring soothingly as Crystal pranced and sidled.
‘There,’ she said, finally coming to a stand again and running one hand along the glossy neck, ‘We understand one another already, do we not?’ Quinn was still standing, watching her. She read the approval in his face and her confidence grew even more. ‘Well, my lord, will you mount up now? I should like to see just what this lady can do.’
The sound of hooves on the cobbles echoed around the courtyard as Quinn led the way out through the arch. They crossed the bridge and turned on to the path leading into the park. The lad waiting to open the gate for them gave a cheeky grin as he tugged his forelock and Serena could not but smile at him. The day was bright, the sun was warm on her back and suddenly, suddenly it was good to be alive. How long had it been since she felt like this?
‘Well,’ said Quinn. ‘Shall we put your mare through her paces?’
She turned her smiling face towards him. ‘By all means, my lord!’
* * *
Quinn touched his heels to Neptune’s sides, marvelling at the change in his wife. Gone was the anxious, hesitant creature who had descended the stairs in her faded habit. Serena on horseback positively glowed with life and assurance. They cantered together through the park, heading for the dense woods that covered the rising ground in the distance. Quinn kept a steady pace, frequently glancing across at his companion. She looked completely at her ease. Very much like her name, he thought. Serene.
He drew rein, bringing Neptune to a walk. ‘You ride very well. Is the saddle comfortable for you?’
‘Perfectly, thank you, my lord.’ She looked about her. ‘From the height of the gate and the walls, I suppose this was once a deer park.’
‘Yes, we still have red and fallow deer but they prefer the higher ground to the north. In Queen Elizabeth’s time the park was double the size, but some of the land was sold off about a century ago and it was remodelled. That was when the avenues of beech, sycamore and lime were planted. They make good rides.’ He pointed. ‘That avenue leads to an ancient viewing tower, where visitors to Melham could watch the hunt. You can just see the top of it.’
She followed his outstretched finger with a steady, considering stare and he said, ‘We could gallop there, if you wish.’
The look she threw at him was full of laughter and mischief. ‘You have read my mind, my lord!’
She touched her heel to the mare’s flank and set off, her skirts billowing around her.
‘Whoa, Neptune.’ He held the black in check, enjoying the view of Serena galloping away along the wide avenue. ‘By God, she is a bruising rider.’
It needed no more than a word from Quinn for Neptune to leap forward in pursuit. For all his horse’s strength, he wondered briefly if he had allowed Serena too much of a start. However, by the time they crested the rising ground Neptune had drawn level and they raced neck and neck towards the stone tower. It reared up before them, massive as a cliff face.
‘Pull up,’ shouted Quinn as they thundered towards it. ‘Pull up, for God’s sake!’
For one searing moment he thought Crystal had bolted and would crash into the tower, then he heard Serena laugh and at the very last moment she swung the mare away. The avenue had once extended past the tower to the very edge of Melham land, but it had been allowed to fall into disuse, and no more than a hundred yards beyond the tower was a mass of unkempt bushes and trees.
Quinn brought Neptune to a plunging halt and watched as Serena slowed the mare and brought her back towards him. He was torn between admiration of her skill and blazing anger at her reckless behaviour. She was smiling, her cheeks glowing from the exercise and her eyes sparkling. She had never looked so beautiful.
By heaven, if this is the real Serena then she will lead me a merry dance.
He said with a calm he was far from feeling, ‘A trifle foolhardy, don’t you think, to ride like that on a horse you do not know, over unknown ground?’
She looked a little conscience-stricken, but her eyes were still shining, which pleased him.
‘I beg your pardon. I had not realised just how much I missed riding.’ She glanced up at the tower. ‘What a grand edifice. Can we go inside?’
‘Of course.’
He jumped down and tied Neptune’s reins to a bush. When he turned back, Serena had already dismounted and was following suit with the mare. He was disappointed that she had not waited for him to help her down. He would have liked the excuse to hold her in his arms.
* * *
Serena took her time fastening Crystal’s reins to a branch. The heady exhilaration was fading and she was regretting her recklessness. Not that Quinn was angry with her, quite the opposite, but even now she felt the panic rising when she recalled the glow of admiration in his eyes. It was so confusing, because she really did want him to admire her, to desire her. When he smiled at her she wanted nothing more than to melt into his embrace and yet she could not overcome the black, chilling terror at the thought of being in any man’s arms.
She wished she had not dismounted, for now he would have to help her up into the saddle again and that would mean standing close to him, breathing in his scent, the mix of soap and leather and spices that was so strangely intoxicating. She was afraid she might do something rash, like throw her arms about his neck and beg him to kiss her.
Such an action was fraught with danger. She could not be certain that he would want to kiss her and if he did, she might recoil, as she had done before. That would make him angry or, even worse, leave him wounded and unhappy. Then there was Dorothea’s assertion that such forward behaviour in a wife would disgust any decent man and Serena had no doubt her husband was a good man.
Quinn was standing by the tower’s bleached oak door. ‘Well, shall we go in?’
‘Is it not locked?’ she asked, walking over to him.
‘Of course, although it is doubtful if anyone would ever stray this far into the park.’ He reached up to a small crevice between two of the stone blocks and pulled out a large iron key. ‘So now you are one of the privileged few who know the secret.’
The smile that accompanied his words caused a sudden fluttering inside Serena, as if someone had opened a sack full of butterflies. She dragged her eyes away from his mouth and fixed them on the oak door, but even the sight of him turning the key in the lock made her tremble as she imagined those same fingers on her bare skin.
The door opened and she gave a nervous laugh. ‘I expected it to creak, like something from a Gothic novel.’
‘The tower is well maintained.’
He stood back to let her precede him into the gloom. The only light came from the open door and a small window set high up in the walls. ‘This area was only ever used for storage. The main chamber is above us.’ He glanced down at her. ‘You are shivering. Are you afraid?’
She could not speak of it, the sudden terrifying memory that had assailed her. Cruel hands around her throat and blackness so deep it made her tremble. She said instead, ‘It is very dark, after the bright sunshine.’
‘Let me guide you, I will go first.’
He took her hand and drew her towards the stone steps built against the far wall. The terror faded as quickly as it had come. There was something comforting about the way Quinn’s huge, warm hand enclosed her fingers. He would protect her from anything and anyone who threatened harm.
But he cannot protect you from yourself, Serena.
The steps opened directly into the main chamber, which boasted windows on all four sides. A large fireplace was built across one corner, with another set of stairs in the opposite corner, leading upwards.
‘On inclement days, guests could watch the hunt from here,’ Quinn told her.
He was still holding her hand and she was far too aware of him. She was torn between wanting to cling tighter and running for her life.
‘It is a lovely, light room,’ she said at last. She gently freed her fingers and walked from one window to the next. ‘And the views are spectacular. One cannot quite see over the rise to Melham but there are wonderful views over the park.’ Turning back, she looked about the room, anywhere rather than at Quinn. ‘If it was furnished with a table and chairs, and a thick carpet over the flags, one might dine here very comfortably. A small party, of course, just a few friends. Or it would make a wonderful retreat from the world,’ she went on, her imagination taking flight. ‘Somewhere one might read in peace and solitude. Or sketch, perhaps.’
Her thoughts ran on. What a wonderful place this would be for a young boy to act out his adventures. His own little kingdom. A castle, perhaps, or a ship at sea.
‘I suppose you are right,’ said Quinn, coming to stand beside her. ‘I never spent much time in here.’
She turned towards him. ‘Did you ever play here? It would make a fine lair.’
‘When I was a child this place was forbidden. I only remember being chased away from it. I suppose the adults were afraid we might come upon them indulging in an illicit liaison.’
‘Your parents’ guests?’
‘Not only guests,’ he said bitterly. ‘My parents used it, too, on the rare occasions they were here. Although not together. Never together.’
The bleakness in his eyes was chilling. She wanted to reach out to him, to kiss away the pain, but what right had she? He might turn away. He might reject her.
For all that she could not resist laying a hand gently on his arm. ‘May we go up to the roof?’
Her words seemed to bring Quinn back from a dark place. She watched as he almost physically shrugged off his memories.
He did not take her hand this time and she followed him up the stairs to where another solid oak door opened outwards on to a flagged walkway. The wind gusted around them, but Serena barely noticed it as she slowly made her way around the parapet, drinking in the view. From here she could see the church and the village. Closer, just visible over the hill on the southern side, was the stone and timber square of Melham Court with its red-tiled roof and the tall brick chimneys reaching towards the sky. In the other direction, the woods stretched away into the distance, a thick bubbling blanket in a dozen shades of green.
‘Look.’ Quinn put one hand on her shoulder, the other stretching out towards a grassy knoll. ‘Red deer.’
A small herd were grazing peacefully, watched over by a lordly stag.
Serena gave a small sigh. ‘How privileged we are, to be able to stand here and see such beauty.’
‘Indeed.’
There was something in the way he spoke the word, his voice slow and deep, that set Serena’s body tingling. His hand still rested lightly on her shoulder and she held her breath, imagining his fingers tightening their hold, turning her about so that he might kiss her.
Her stomach swooped at the thought. She wanted it to happen. She wanted it so badly she was tempted to turn and drag his head down towards her. She fought against it. Her forward behaviour had already brought her to the point of ruin once and she was terrified that it would repel Quinn. She must keep quite still and savour the intimacy of standing thus, with her husband. The effort proved too much. She shivered and Quinn’s hand dropped.
‘Is it too cold for you? We should go inside.’
‘No, I am not cold.’ The moment had gone, disappearing like smoke. She sighed. ‘But perhaps we should be getting back.’
* * *
The scene on the rooftop replayed itself over and over in Quinn’s head as they made their way from the tower. He was enjoying showing Serena his world—her world now, too. When she had remarked on the view he had wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that she enhanced its beauty but he had hesitated. Soft words and compliments were not his style. And besides, she did not want his advances. Even his hand on her shoulder had made her shudder. Now she was standing beside him as he locked the door and replaced the key in its hiding place. She looked sad and he wanted desperately to make her smile again.
As they walked back to the horses he said, ‘It is time we made use of the tower. I shall have the chimney swept and then you shall furnish it. There is plenty of spare furniture in the house, ask Mrs Talbot to show you. But if nothing suits then you must buy more.’
‘How would you wish it furnished?’
‘That is for you to decide. It can be your own private tower, where you may retire whenever you wish to be alone. Read, draw, whatever you wish to do. No one shall intrude upon you there.’
‘Th-thank you.’
He threw her up into the saddle and when she was secure he untied the reins and handed them to her.
‘Melham Court is your home now, Serena. I want you to be happy here. The tower shall be your retreat from the world.’
With that he turned to mount Neptune. There. He had said it. He had given her permission to shut herself away from the world. From him.
They rode directly to the stable yard, where the grooms were waiting to run to the horses’ heads. Once again Serena dismounted before Quinn could help her, but she did not refuse his arm for the short walk back to the house.
‘Thank you for buying Crystal, Quinn. She is perfect. I enjoyed our ride together.’
‘And I.’ He glanced back at the clock as they entered the main courtyard. ‘I had not realised it was so late. There is barely an hour until dinner.’
‘That should be sufficient,’ she told him. ‘I gave orders before we left that we would need hot water upon our return. I am learning to be a good housewife, you see, my lord.’
Her shy smile lifted his spirits as he led her into the hall. He thought she would make directly for the stairs, but she stopped.
‘I have been thinking about the tower,’ she said, stripping off her gloves. ‘With your permission, sir, I would like it to be a little parlour, with comfortable chairs where we may sit, if we wish, but I should also like to add a dining table. We might dine alone, or invite friends to join us. Perhaps in the summer, when we might go up on to the roof after dinner and watch the sun setting. The views are too special to be kept for us alone. I should like to share them. To share the happiness they bring.’
Where we may sit!
A glow of pleasure warmed Quinn’s heart at her words, but he said carefully, ‘An admirable idea, my dear, but are you sure that is what you wish?’
‘It is.’ She glanced up at him. ‘I should like to replace the memories you have of the tower with happier ones, my lord.’
And with that she turned and hurried away, leaving Quinn to stare after her.