Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1. Louise Allen

was the name of the inn? The one at Box Moor.’

      ‘The Lamb, I think. No, the Lamb and Flag. Why?’ ‘Nothing.’ She yawned. ‘I just wondered.’ And slept.

      When she woke there was daylight in the room from a high barred window and she had no recollection of stirring in the night. They were lying as they had gone to sleep, but in a far more intimate tangle. With the colour rising to her cheeks, Katherine realised that her nightgown had ridden up around her hips and one of Nick’s legs was over hers.

      She felt him move and raise his head. ‘Kat? Are you awake?’

      ‘Umm.’

      ‘We had better get up soon, I heard the clock strike seven.’

      ‘Oh.’

      Are you usually this chatty in the morning?’

      She smothered a snort of amusement. ‘I do not know. I am not in the habit of waking up in bed with anyone.’

      ‘I am glad to hear it.’

      She felt him throw back the covers and his warmth left her. Grumbling, she burrowed down into the body-shaped dip in the mattress, eyes tight shut.

      ‘You look like a cat who has finally managed to secure all of the sofa cushion,’ Nick remarked. From the muffled sound of his voice he was pulling a shirt over his head.

      ‘You let the cold in.’

      ‘I am sorry. But you must get up now. There is some cold water on the wash stand behind the screen in the corner and I am gazing fixedly at the ceiling and a large spider directly above the bed.’

      ‘Wretch.’ Reluctantly Katherine opened her eyes and jumped out of bed. The water was indeed cold, and by the time she had washed and dressed she was well and truly awake. And the chill seemed to have settled in a hard knot in her stomach.

      When she emerged, Nick was laying the remains of the meat and bread out on the table and had found the bottle of ale she had included. ‘Are you as silent over breakfast?’

      ‘No.’ It was strangely difficult to look at him. Katherine wondered how she would be feeling if they had made love last night. She jumped as he pulled the cork from the bottle with a pop and made herself smile and take the proffered glass. ‘Thank you. Did you sleep well last night?’

      ‘So well. I should not have done with a beautiful woman in my arms. I should have lain awake in torment.’ He laughed as Katherine frowned at him. ‘You are very soothing.’

      That was a mixed bundle of compliments to be sure. ‘Beautiful’ produced a warm glow. No one had ever called her that before. But she was not sure that being soothing was preferable to being the sort of woman who drove men wild with uncontrollable desire.

      She sneaked a sideways look at him while he ate. His hair was too long and was decidedly untidy. Goodness knows what he had done with the comb. There was the night’s growth of stubble shadowing his chin and his eyes, despite his protestations of a good sleep, seemed heavy and brooding. Good cheekbones, she decided, and a very straight nose.

      Katherine wanted to get up and go and rub his shoulders, wrap her arms around him and hug him until that bleak look vanished. But what power had a hug to banish the thought of the cell he was about to return to?

      They packed the hamper again, stripped the bed and folded the sheets. Katherine risked teasing a little. ‘You are very domesticated.’

      ‘It comes from being in the army.’

      ‘Were you? Which regiment?’

      ‘A cavalry regiment,’ he said evasively.

      ‘But surely there are some of your fellow officers in England, in London! Tell me some names and I will go to Horse Guards. Oh, Nick, why did you not think of that before?’

      ‘Because I enlisted as a trooper, under a false name,’ he said with a finality that warned her not to pursue the reason why. ‘There, all packed.’

      The clock began to chime. ‘Nick … ‘

      ‘Come here,’ he said roughly, pulling her towards him by the shoulders.

      Katherine went without conscious thought, wrapping her arms around him and tipping her face up to his. His mouth on hers was not gentle, not tender, it made no allowance for her innocence or inexperience.

      Clinging to Nick’s shoulders, swept along by his need, Katherine opened to him, instinctively parting her lips as he ravished them, meeting his thrusting tongue with hers. It was as though he needed to absorb her, press her to him until she left an imprint on his body.

      He let her go as suddenly as he had taken her, staring down with eyes like dark flame. Katherine licked her lips, tasting him on them. Her hands went up to lock into the long hair at his nape and he put his own hands up to catch her wrists.

      ‘Katherine …’

      The clock struck eight.

       Chapter Five

      Behind her the sound of the key in the lock tore across her nerves.

      ‘I will come back, I promise, Nick.’

      ‘No, not to this place.’ He took her shoulders again, so hard it hurt her. ‘Promise me. Not the last day. Promise me that at least.’

      ‘No. I will not promise and I will come back.’ The door swung open. ‘Goodbye, Nick.’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed his set lips swiftly, then turned to the door.

      ‘Good morning, Mr Rawlings. Good morning, John. John, everything is packed, I will just put on my bonnet.’

      Nick stayed still as a statue by the door as John helped her into her pelisse and picked up the bags. She stopped at his side as she tied her bonnet strings. There did not seem to be any words so she reached up, touched his cheek and left.

      John was a brooding presence at her side as they walked down the endless dark passages and out into the blessed sunlight and fresh air. He hailed a hackney carriage and bundled her inside before plumping down opposite her and demanding, with all the licence of an old family servant, ‘Are you all right, Miss Katherine?’

      ‘Mrs Lydgate,’ she said firmly. It was the first time she had said it; it sounded rather well. Her coachman regarded her with much the same air her father had adopted when she came up with some excuse to distract him from a misdemeanour.

      ‘John, Mr Lydgate behaved like a perfect gentleman and absolutely nothing happened. Now that is as much as I am prepared to discuss with you so you can stop looking like a cross bulldog.’

      ‘Humph. If you say so Miss … Mrs Lydgate.’

      ‘I was teasing you, John, please call me Miss Katherine. Now, has Philip taken the carriage out?’

      ‘No.’ He was still regarding her suspiciously as if he expected her to burst into tears at any moment. This was obviously not the reaction he had been anticipating.

      ‘Good, because I need the horses putting to and for you to pack your bags. We are going into Hertfordshire today.’

      Jenny was inclined to be tearful at her return and then as baffled as John by their mistress’s brisk determination to leave London. ‘Pack, Miss Katherine? But for how many days?’

      ‘I am not sure. It cannot be more than three, I pray it will take no more. And Jenny, you know that old hat box we put up in the attic?’

      ‘Yes, Miss Katherine.’

      ‘Fetch it down, please.’

      Jenny departed, shaking her head. Kate ran downstairs and into Philip’s study. Now, where was the atlas? Yes, here it was, a volume of road maps. She conned the