An Earl Out of Time (Time Into Time) - Page 54

I came to my senses to find him adjusting the bodice of my gown with an efficiency that argued a lot of practice. I could hardly complain, I was not exactly a quivering virgin myself.

‘Let me.’ I shifted so that I could touch him, but he stood up.

‘Not now.’ His voice was husky, reluctant. ‘We must get back to our supper… Aah.’

That gasp was all the encouragement I needed as I slid to my knees and managed, at last, to undo his falls. It did not take long, nowhere near as long as I sensed we both wanted, but the whispering darkness made us urgent.

We walked back a longer way and I suppose, by the time we emerged into the light, we looked respectable enough. The ground had been dry, thank goodness.

James grinned at his brother and got a repressive frown in answer, but I think poor Sir Clement would have been too deep in his gloomy thoughts to have noticed if we had got it on right beside him in the box.

I managed to pull myself together sufficiently to enjoy the famous shaved ham, which was delicious, even if it was thin enough to see through. We ate capons and cheesecakes and drank the arrack punch which went straight to my knees which had had more than enough excitement already that evening.

I think we were all rather tipsy as we left to find the carriage with the last of the fireworks banging and wooshing overhead.

‘No wonder the people who have estates out here complain about the noise,’ James said as the carriage moved off.

‘I suppose we are in the country, almost, aren’t we? Do many people have country estates so near to Town?’ I was so very aware of Lucian close beside me that I could hardly articulate a sensible question. Or perhaps it was the wine.

‘Some,’ James said. ‘But not many. London is growing at such a rate that estates are being sold off or cut up for building. Lord knows where it will stop.’

I could have told him, but I doubt that he would have believed me. Thinking about the likely reaction of the three men to the twenty first century reality of London kept me amused and distracted from the dilemma of what to do about Lucian and bed when we got home.

Not much had been distracting Lucian from thoughts of bed – and not for sleeping either. He caught me in his arms as I opened my bedchamber door.

‘Cassie?’

‘I don’t know.’ It was almost a wail and I couldn’t believe how indecisive I was being about this. We had already become very intimate indeed – I could still taste him – I wanted him badly. I was on the pill, I had condoms. But…

‘I understand.’ He let go of me and stepped back.

‘You do? It is more than I do.’ I was furious with myself. ‘I am not trying to be a cock-tease, honestly.’

‘I know. But you cannot help remembering that in your time I am long dead. That must be disconcerting.’

It was probably disconcerting for him too. Somewhere in his future and in my present was a family vault…

‘No, that isn’t it,’ I told him truthfully. ‘I could vanish at any moment – back to when I come from. Or altogether if we do something to change the course of history and it affects me. I cannot help the feeling that if I sleep with you it will have consequences.’

‘I would be careful – ’ he began.

‘No, I don’t mean me conceiving. Something more nebulous. I can’t explain because I do not understand.’

‘Bad consequences?’ Lucian asked. He looked as though he was taking my vague apprehensions seriously.

‘I honestly do not know,’ I admitted. ‘If I did, then I could make a decision. As it is – ’

‘As it is it would be wrong of me to try and persuade you,’ he said slowly, as though trying to persuade himself. ‘I do not want only one night with you, Cassie.’

‘Neither do I,’ I confessed. What I was beginning to feel for this man, muddled though it was, went far beyond the anticipation of mutual sexual pleasure. Perhaps all I was trying to do was to protect myself from a broken heart when I found myself with a two hundred year gap between me and my lover.

Lucian put one hand on the door frame and leant in to kiss me, hard and fierce and quick before he straightened and turned away. ‘Dream of me,’ he said, his voice low as he left me there clutching the door handle to stop myself running down the passageway after him.

Chapter Twenty Two

I did dream that night, but not of Lucian. There was a big house in wide parklands, sweeping steps to a double front door, balustrades and pillars, woodland and deer. There was a vault beneath a chapel. But the ornate iron grill stayed closed and nothing stirred in the dusty depths, not even when the sound of children laughing floated down from high above.

I woke feeling as though I had solved something, but I had no idea what.

Tags: Louise Allen Science Fiction
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