The Complete Ravenscar Trilogy: The Ravenscar Dynasty, Heirs of Ravenscar, Being Elizabeth. Barbara Taylor Bradford

and she had quickly told him where she lived.

      The following day, Lily had wondered about herself and her behaviour, asking herself why she had become so quickly entranced by this young man, one who was obviously so much younger than she. And she had known the answer immediately. Instant attraction. Overwhelming sexual desire. On both their parts. And so she had told her housekeeper to leave early that day, had seen her off at two o’clock; fifteen minutes later she had sent the maid home as well.

      Alone, she had bathed and perfumed herself, brushed and dressed her golden hair in a loose, girlish style, put on pretty white undergarments and selected a pale-green chiffon-and-lace afternoon tea gown. The style was simple, loose and floating, tied around the waist with a broad, pale-green ribbon belt. Even though it was a cold day she had wanted something young and pretty to wear which also gave him easy access to her. She had already known instinctively what to expect when he arrived; she knew he would make a move on her very swiftly, attempt to seduce within the first half hour. His lust for her had been only too obvious and too urgent the night before.

      She had been ready for an hour before he was due, and had paced the floor, prowled around the house, checking on everything, and as she did this she discovered she was hardly able to contain herself. She was trembling, excited inside, acting like a young girl without experience. These feelings had truly taken her by surprise, since she was experienced.

      Edward had arrived at five minutes to four, for afternoon tea. She had served him herself, and his gaze had never left her. Lily had been fully aware that the absence of staff and her flushed face signalled to him that her aim and intentions were indeed the same as his. But then he had already known that before he had come here today.

      He had taken a sip of tea, and so had she; he had talked to her for a short while about Oxford, his close friendship with Will, and how much he liked Vicky Forth, her friend.

      Lily had listened attentively, loving the timbre of his voice, as she had the night before, a voice which was deeply masculine, mellifluous and cultivated.

      And then, unexpectedly, Edward had stopped abruptly, risen and walked over to her chair. Bending over her, he had said in the softest of voices, ‘Won’t you come and sit with me on the sofa? You seem so far away.’

      Before she could even answer he had taken her hand, brought her to her feet and led her to the sofa positioned near the fireplace.

      ‘You’re trembling, Mrs Overton,’ he had said, sounding surprised, as he had pressed her down onto the sofa, seated himself next to her. ‘Are you all right?’

      ‘Perfectly,’ had been all she could manage to say.

      ‘I’m afraid I’m not,’ he had murmured and immediately drew closer. ‘I’ve been extremely agitated since last night. You see, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.’ When she did not respond he asked, ‘Dare I hope that you’ve given a little thought to me?’

      She nodded.

      He leaned into her then, put his arm around her shoulders and brought his mouth to her cheek. She had not flinched, had remained quite still as he had kissed her cheek again and found her mouth with his. She had kissed him back. Why pretend, she had thought, why pretend to be overly virtuous when he knows how much I want him. Within the space of a few seconds his hand had been on her breast; he had pulled her closer to him, holding her tightly in his arms and with one dexterous hand he had unbuttoned the front of the gown and slipped his hand inside, lightly touching her nipple. When she had not shown any resistance to these advances, he had grown infinitely bolder, had slid his hand down her leg, lifted the loose flowing skirt of her dress, slipping his fingers along her inner thigh and between her legs. It was at this moment that she had stopped him, exclaiming softly, ‘Please, we must stop. This is most unseemly.’

      He had pulled away from her gently, staring into her face, an amused look on his, and he had laughed. ‘Oh, Mrs Overton, really.’ He had laughed again, and so had she, and then he had shaken his head and asked, ‘Could we perhaps go upstairs, Mrs Overton? I do believe it has become quite pressing for us to find a bed.’

      ‘Only if you stop calling me Mrs Overton and call me Lily instead, Edward,’ she had answered with a light laugh.

      ‘And you must call me Ned.’

      Together they had climbed the stairs and she had not been at all self-conscious; she had led him into her bedroom, then had suddenly turned her head and given him a most cryptic look.

      His response had been to immediately take her in his arms, press her close to his body, his hand sliding down onto her buttocks. She had felt so small, feminine and defenceless because he was so tall, broad and masculine, the most masculine man she had ever met.

      When he had pressed her even closer, moulding her to him, she had felt his erection against her body, and she had begun to tremble.

      As if he understood her instant trepidation he had not made another move, had simply stood perfectly still, looking down at her, his expression suddenly loving. Very slowly, he had begun to remove her clothes, untying the ribbon belt around her waist, letting it drop to the floor, unfastening the rest of the buttons on the front of her dress. Slipping it over her shoulders, it had fallen to the floor, a pool of pale green lace at her feet. A moment after he had started to loosen her undergarments, he stopped and led her over to the bed. Without a word, he had taken off everything else until she was completely naked.

      It was only then that he had spoken, saying in an awed voice, ‘Oh, Lily, Lily, you are very, very beautiful.’

      She had remained silent, simply staring up at him through eyes filled with longing for him, desire written all over her face.

      Everything had gone very swiftly after that. He had risen, shed his own clothes quickly, stretched out next to her on the bed. Pushing himself up on one elbow, he had leaned over her, kissed her deeply, passionately, his tongue sliding into her mouth for a moment of true intimacy. All of his movements were slow, gentle, tender, and soon one hand roamed over her, stroking and caressing every part of her until she cried out in pleasure.

      Soon after this he had taken her hand and placed it on his groin, and she had been startled by the size of him. But when he entered her he had done so with immense gentleness, and she had found herself opening up to him, thrilled by his virility, knowledge and experience. Their coupling had been rapturous, ecstatic, as they had both known it would be from their first moment of meeting.

      Edward had stayed with her for the rest of the day and into the early evening. She had made supper for him, and he had stayed on and on, in the end not taking his leave of her until the early hours of the morning. He had been insatiable and so had she, and she had realized that night that he was the best lover she had known.

      And so had begun the most extraordinary relationship Lily had had with any man, one that over the months had given her unusual happiness.

      Ned saw her whenever he came up to London, and occasionally, giving in to his pleading, she visited him in Oxford. With the passing of time she had grown to love him, whilst understanding that the gap in their ages was far too enormous to bridge. Nonetheless, she resolved to remain his mistress for as long as he wanted and needed her.

      There was very little she did not know about him, and she understood him completely. He was a highly-sexed, sensual and extremely romantic man; she found him mature for his age and extremely intelligent; he had a brilliant, analytical mind that would sometimes stun her. These attributes aside, his looks were heart-stopping, and yet there was no personal vanity in him about his appearance, and he was kind, compassionate. Perhaps the most unique thing about Ned was his charisma. He possessed a special kind of natural charm that was so captivating it ensnared everyone. This characteristic, plus his amiability and friendliness, immediately put people at ease. All gravitated to him, wanted to be part of his circle.

      Yet Lily was very much aware that behind that charming, polished façade there was a wholly different kind of man, one of dogged determination, who harboured great ambition, was full of resourcefulness and had a will of iron that was formidable. Very