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flowing fair hair and graceful, slender body, barely covered by a silk wrap. He marveled again at her likeness to his first love, Millicent Burrowdale.
    She placed a hand on his chest and moved it downwards. “But is she pretty?”
    He scowled. “I don’t intend to discuss my future wife with you.”
    Her hand reached its destination, and his manhood jumped under her practiced fingers. “Pooh. Can she do what I can do, for you?”
    “I very much doubt it.” Robert picked her up in his arms and laid her on the bed. “We shall go on much as we did before, shan’t we?”
    She watched him strip away her robe and bend to kiss a breast. “If you wish it.”
    “Oh, I do. I do wish it.”
    Robert had been gone almost two weeks when Charity wandered over to the water’s edge accompanied by Felix, who had become her loyal companion. She stood with her gown whipping around her, watching a majestic tall ship far out to sea. The dog gave a bark and took off at a run, and she turned to see Robert crossing the rocks towards her. Her ribs constricted, and a flush of heat rose to her face at the sight of him. He had come to find her, still wearing his grey greatcoat, striding out in fawn breeches and black boots. He swept off his cocked hat. He was just as handsome as she remembered. As she took in every detail of him, a lock of hair blew across her face. She tucked it behind an ear with trembling fingers and wondered again if she could make him a good wife.
    “I thought you were my faithful escort, Felix,” she remonstrated when the dog returned to dance around her legs. It gave her time to regain her composure. “I believe your friendship to be false.” Felix barked and joyfully returned to his master, gaining his attention.
    “My uncle believed animals were never false.” He rose from patting the dog, a smile lighting his blue eyes. “What have you there?” Was he pleased to see her too?
    She held out a piece of flotsam from some sunken ship.
    “Nature has wrought a work of art. It has the look of a horse jumping a fence or some such, do you see?”
    “Perhaps.”
    He took the wood from her and turned it in his long fingers.
    Charity’s stomach churned as she watched him. Her constant concern was would he honour her wishes and refrain from making love to her on their wedding night? Apart from their first kiss, he hadn’t revealed an urgent desire to touch her again, but then they’d spent very little time together.
    He handed the driftwood back. “We’ll travel up to London straight after the wedding.”
    “So soon?”
    He chucked her under the chin and laughed. “Is that a pout? Don’t you wish to go to London?”
    “Of course I do, but it’s just so lovely here.” She waved her hand.
    “Don’t you love the sea? Your uncle has accrued an excellent library of books. And I enjoy walking through the gardens, they are laid out magnificently. Have you ridden through the deer park? There’s quite a showing of bluebells under the trees. And the servants are so nice.”
    He looked at her brows raised. “Are they?” He laughed again. “I’ve never heard a house and its servants praised quite like that before.”
    She knew he teased her, but his laugh made her feel warm and special, perhaps because he did it so rarely. She wished they might stay here a little longer and get to know each other without the distractions of London. If they could laugh a little more, perhaps they’d come to know each other, maybe even like each other. She held the driftwood tight against her chest and bit her lip. She’d learned much about London from friends of her parents returning from that busy metropolis.
    Its smart, cruel people with their precise manners and exquisite modes of dress awaited her. She would rather go to war in that ship on the horizon.

Chapter Three

    The wedding took place in the grey stone parish church. Their words, in the almost empty building, echoed around the vaulted ceiling, disturbing a flock of