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over her own belly, sliding it down across the fabric of her dress, down to the place between her legs.
    ‘This is where I yearn for you, Carl. Instinct tells me that I need you here.’
    Dear God, he wanted to meet that need. He was burning up, and all he wanted to do was plunge his aching, throbbing shaft inside her. Only some deep thrusting and the sweet, sweet release that must follow would make this fever go away. But she was innocent, unspoilt, and vulnerable. With difficulty, he restrained himself, and lay quietly stroking her hair.
    ‘Tell me what happens,’ she said.
    He nodded, patient and tender, kissing her face, smoothing her hair. ‘The man puts his key into the barrel, and it fits perfectly.’
    ‘But he does not turn it,’ she said, trying to follow his meaning accurately.
    ‘Not generally, no. It is more the action of sliding the key in - that gives them both such pleasure. Slide in and ease out, as many times as they want.’
    Her face was flushed with excitement. ‘We must try. We must see if the key fits.’
    His body ached with a keen desire that he knew he must suppress. He must not take advantage of her now. ‘No. Sweetheart. This is the reason the doctor wouldn’t tell you. We are not married – it would be wrong. If I did it to you now, it would be a violation of you, my love. I’ll wait til I can make you my wife.’
    ‘Marry me tomorrow. Love me tonight.’
    Oh, how he wanted to love her! But he knew he must not.
    So they lay on the bed, fully clothed, and Carl resigned himself to spending the night like that. He kissed her forehead and told her that tomorrow they’d see about getting wed.
    ‘Imagine,’ she said, and gave his arm an excited squeeze. ‘Me - a married woman! Married at eighteen!’
    Carl’s heart lurched. He cursed inwardly, and pressed his lips once more against her soft skin. She wasn’t yet twenty-one. She was under the age of consent. Of course she was. He’d never asked, because he hadn’t wanted to know. He closed his eyes and waited for tomorrow to come.

Chapter 6
     
     
    T HE CLERGYMAN WAS SYMPATHETIC – but unable to help them in their plight. Standing in the little porch at the vicarage, Carl turned his cap round and round anxiously in his hands, and listened while the vicar told him no. He heard the words and nodded, but all the time he watched Susannah walking in the churchyard, fresh as a summer’s day in her pretty white blouse and a long grey skirt that hugged the slim curves of her hips. She wore her hair piled up high today, topped with a jaunty straw boater. The blue ribbon at the back fluttered in the breeze. Carl sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. She’d be heartbroken when he had to tell her.
    They could not wed today, or any day. Not without Fortescue’s blessing.
    He knew what would happen. They would go here and there and hear the same tale. Go home, young man. We can’t help you. You’re on your own. Your intentions are noble, but we won’t let you live up to them. You can live with her in sin, until your money runs out and you have to admit defeat…
    Carl had heard enough. He bid the clergyman good day and took Susannah home. He supposed the little room at the boarding house qualified as their home for now.
     

     
    Carl had persuaded the landlady to let him buy a cheap lock for their bedroom door. He fitted it himself, thinking that he and Susannah might need the privacy. It would give them a moment of warning, too, if anyone found their hiding place.
    Susannah sat on the bed and watched him. He tested out the lock, as soon as he had fitted it. The key turned easily. ‘Does it bother you,’ he asked, ‘being locked in here with me?’
    ‘I don’t mind,’ Susannah said. ‘As long as I can hold the key.’
    So, he took the key and put it in the palm of her hand, and she curled her fingers around it, as if she never wanted to let it go.
    Carl stroked her cheek. ‘Are you planning to hold it tight like that all