“No,” he promised. “Unless you’ve had enough of me.”

  “I haven’t,” she said softly. It was nice to have Roman here, nicer to have his arms around her still. She made her shawl fall off her shoulders and pulled on the drawstring at her neck to loosen her nightgown. “I’d like you to stay and make love to me again.”

  Roman nodded and wrapped her tighter in his arms. He was warm and so familiar now. She heaved a sigh and rested her cheek upon his chest. His heart beat loudly, keeping time with hers. “I didn’t expect you’d stay the night.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I didn’t mean to but I’m glad I did to see you this morning. You are utterly beautiful without all the frills and starch you used to wear.”

  “My aunts controlled my wardrobe. They never listened to what I wanted to wear.” But she thought of what he said about her attire. He liked her as she was now, not as the primped and polished paragon. Of course, it might also be that her nightgown was rather loose, and he could peek down the front of it to see her breasts. Amity could feel herself becoming aroused and heated just from knowing he might be looking at her nakedness. “How will you spend today?”

  “With you, I hope,” he said as he cupped her breasts in his big hands. “There’s not a lot to do in this village unless its drinking at the inn or indulging in gossip.”

  She shook her head. “They will gossip about me now.”

  “About us, as I had intended from the start.” His fingers eased down her torso to her sex, pausing, maddeningly, just above where she’d already begun to crave his attention. His fingers slid from side to side, teasing her with the anticipation of his tender touch. “I would never again neglect such an incredibly giving woman.”

  She stilled his hand. “Crawford, what do we do if the maid comes back?”

  “You told her to go and why. If she disobeys and see us together like this, it’s her own fault for interrupting a married couple making up after a long estrangement. I am quite prepared to be seen making amends, too. Your husband was in the wrong. A fool to let you go,” he promised as he urged her to slide farther up the sturdy table. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it carelessly aside. His bare chest and shoulders gleamed in the morning light.

  Wearing only his breeches and a cheeky smile, he set his knee on the table and crawled up to join her, holding himself over her—caging her between his strong arms and thighs. He hovered there, his expression one of utter mischief. “I must say, I like pretending to be your wayward husband. Satisfying all those urges you’ve only just found existed has become an ambition of mine.”

  She squinted up at him, walking her fingers down his chest toward the bulge in his trousers. “How do you know I didn’t have those urges before you came along?”

  “I hope you did, but now I have to hope those thoughts are for none but me. I want you to only think of me when you’re being truly wicked.”

  She studied Roman and decided there was no point denying her attraction and interest in him. They were lovers. She wanted them to stay lovers for as long as he could bear being away from London. “Perhaps I did and do think of you. Perhaps I always could, if given the right incentive.”

  “Then let’s not waste another moment more making up.” He lowered slightly and skimmed his lips over hers. And just like the first time together, everything fell into place, and they didn’t need to say another word about what they expected from each other. “I want you to always think of me and what we do together.”

  Amity was in complete agreement. She tugged her nightgown up to her waist and out of the way, and eased her legs apart, making room for his body to fit snugly against hers again. Just as she’d started to wish it could always be between them. Natural and easy and exciting and tender. She kissed Roman with all the passion she felt, all the love that only seemed to grow deeper the longer they spent together. She was completely committed to her lover and hoped to be forever in his arms.

  Chapter 11

  Despite his best efforts, Amity stirred as Roman tried to slip out from beneath her as gently as he could. He kissed her brow and moved her onto the mattress beside him, then considered covering her up to her neck because her pearly white skin was such a distraction. He became so easily aroused seeing her this way. Their lovemaking in the kitchen had been fun but he preferred seeing her lying in her own soft bed, sated, after a day of love play. He wished they could stay like this forever—except, he had an appointment arranged for this morning.

  Curiosity was getting the better of him about any other Sweet family business he might have stumbled upon.

  “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

  Amity slid her leg out from under the sheet, toe pointed and seductive as she wiggled it at him. “Do you really have to go?”

  He spent a moment considering, grinning at her flirting with him. “I’ve turned a paragon into a wanton woman. Not that I’m complaining. It’s my pleasure to make you happy, my dear.” Roman laughed, kissed the top her head and rolled out of her bed. “But unfortunately, the innkeeper might send out a search party if I don’t make an appearance at the inn soon. I wouldn’t want anyone but me to see you like this.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she held the sheet across the lower part of her face and batted her lashes like a coquette. “Do I look like I’ve been ravished?”

  “All night long,” he promised, full of wonder for the day and night they’d shared. They were so in tune when it came to exploring their passions. Hungry and willing to do anything to please the other.

  As he gazed down upon her now, his cock stirred yet again, eager to sweep them into another passion-filled encounter that would last for hours. But he always kept his promises. That meant appearing to go about his declared business of finding a property to purchase, and to be seen about the village as her husband, too.

  He was sure now that their passion wasn’t a once-felt stirring but something that could be built on and explored for the rest of their lives.

  He stood up and padded around her tiny bedchamber, picking up his clothing and putting each piece back on. Every time he drew close to Amity, he stroked her skin…her bare legs, her arms, the sweet dimples on her lower back when she exposed it to escape any accidental tickling.

  In time, this woman would be his to love every day if he was lucky. But he still had to convince her that marriage to an enemy of her brother’s was worth the risk of lifelong estrangement from them all. He also wanted her to return to society, as well.

  It was a shame that he’d never have her family’s approval to marry her. George Sweet surely had wanted Amity to marry someone far more distinguished than a mere mister with deep pockets. The Duke of Ravenswood might disapprove the match very vocally, as well, and challenge the marriage. Although Amity was over the age of consent, there was still the possibility that he might yet face pistols or swords at dawn and end up leaving her all alone again.

  Amity deserved to marry whoever she chose, someone she loved, and by God, she could have him if he could secure her heart, too.

  With that thought in mind, as he pulled on his boots, he considered exactly how to go about declaring his honorable intentions. He would have to speak with the duke. Ride to London or visit his country estate to speak directly with Ravenswood himself. It was an interview he very much dreaded but felt was entirely necessary. The duke could be quite vicious and unforgiving to those he considered had wronged him, but he was the head of Amity’s family.

  Roman might also have to explain why he’d lied to Ravenswood’s sons, apologize, if he wanted to stay friends with them. Stratford particularly might take issue with him ruining his cousin, even though he’d said he wished Roman had been the one.

  “Roman, is something the matter?” Amity called to him, breaking him out of his thoughts as her hand slid up his arm.

  He turned to her and smiled, uncertain how to broach the subject of them marrying. Amity might not yet be ready for that discussion. She’d been adamant before that he not offer for her the night of her ruin.

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. He had to go, take this one meeting, and he would propose later that very day when he returned. Perhaps here, but not in bed. He had to do this right.

  But it occurred to him that if she was his real wife, she ought to go with him to view the Barnes estate as well. He smoothed her hair back from her face. “I was just thinking about my upcoming meeting and wondering if you would like to go riding with me to look at an estate?”

  “What estate?”

  “I came to the village because I suspected your cousin owned a property here, and that you might be living there. When I spoke to the villagers, I hinted I was also looking to invest. The innkeeper has arranged for me to view one estate. It belongs to Lord Barnes, but I wonder if Fairbridge means to buy it too. I’m to meet with a steward of the estate at noon. It should take a few hours all told.”

  “Fairbridge said nothing of buying any other property here, but then, he wouldn’t normally confide in me. I haven’t been on a horse since leaving London but I would love to see the estate with you.”

  Roman’s traveling carriage was miles away and the estate was too far away to reach on foot. The fastest way to travel was on horseback. “Would you be offended if I suggested you might need to ride astride?”

  She bit her lip. “No. I’ve done that before at Ravenswood and would prefer it on unfamiliar roads. I wore breaches belonging to Stratford under my skirts then, but I don’t have a pair here.”

  He would have loved to see that. Amity was more adventurous than her reputation ever suggested. “I think I might have something that will come close to fitting you. I’ll bring a pair of mine when I return. I’ll even give you my horse to ride and hire another from the inn stables for myself if one is available.”

  “I can ride the hired mount,” she offered.

  “Only the best for you, sweetheart,” he said, brushing his fingers across her cheek. “How soon can you be ready?”

  “I’ll need half an hour, at least.”

  “Excellent.” He checked his pocket watch then bent down to kiss her cheek. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Her expression was excited as he left the room. She was looking forward to being seen with him in public, which made his heart happy, too. He made his way downstairs, collected his hat and let himself out into the front garden. Their morning together had gone quite well so far, and he was anxious for the rest of it to follow the same fashion.

  He headed to the inn and requested his horse be made ready to ride.

  “I’ll see to it,” the innkeeper agreed with a negligent shrug of his shoulder.

  The man had become immediately reserved with him upon the revelation that he was Amity’s scoundrel of a husband come to fetch her back. He must have told others because there had been some disapproving looks in his direct in the tavern the evening before. He really didn’t blame them. Amity hadn’t described her pretend husband in glowing terms, after all.

  He followed the innkeeper. “You wouldn’t have a spare mount I can borrow for the day, would you? I’ve coin to pay for it, of course.”

  “There could be one,” the innkeeper mused, scratching his head. “Not as fine as you’re accustomed to, I’m sure.”

  “I can ride anything,” he promised, and handed over a small pile of coin in excess of the expected charge. “I’ll need both ready promptly. I promised to take my wife with me when I go to view the Barnes property.”

  The innkeeper sucked his teeth. “Lord Barnes will expect a pretty sum for the place.”

  “If my wife likes it, then it’s worth considering. I’m expected there shortly, so please hurry to prepare the horses so I don’t have to keep my wife waiting.”

  The innkeeper nodded. “I take it you’ve made up?”

  It was a bold question for an innkeeper to ask a near stranger. But if Amity said no to marrying him, he’d be leaving, and she would stay in this village. “It’s too early to tell,” he warned the fellow.

  He headed up to his room to change into clothing more suited for riding, making sure he appeared as prosperous as possible. Not to impress the land manager, who didn’t know his real identity anyway, but to impress Amity herself.

  He tossed a pair of tight breaches to give to Amity to slip on under her dress for their ride over his arm. They would be a little loose perhaps but should ensure her modesty, and if she tied a sash about her waist, it would hold them in place for the ride.

  He was ready at the appointed time and went down to fetch the horses, spare breaches in hand. As the innkeeper had warned, the hired mount left a lot to be desired when compared to his own mount, Argus. But it was a sturdy beast, if too placid in temperament for an experienced gentleman rider. Amity was surely experienced on horseback, as well, and deserved the very best.

  His own horse danced with impatience at his side to be off and running the moment he was in the saddle. The hired mount merely shook his head and as Roman kicked his flanks but eventually got moving.

  Amity was still inside her home when he arrived but peering out her front window in wait for him. When she saw him, it took no time for her burst out her front door in a rush of excitement at seeing him. Had she thought he’d not be coming back? Or had she missed riding as much as he suspected she might?

  He dismounted the plodding hired horse and tied it to the hitching post outside her front yard. He tied up his own horse next to it, too, even though the beast kept tossing his head. “This is Argus. Energetic but he has a good nature.”

  “He’s beautiful,” she enthused, stroking the horses long nose. She glanced at him, frowning. “Is this the horse my brother wanted to buy from Tattersalls last year but was outbid on the day?”

  “Hmm, it could be?” he answered, grinning that she knew about yet another revenge scheme he’d taken on her obnoxious sibling.

  “I’m so glad I get to ride him instead of George. He would never have let me if he was the owner,” she told him. “He’ll be furious when he hears about this.”

  “George’s temper, or lack of it, is well known now.” He handed her the breaches. “For you to wear.”

  “Thank you.” Amity darted back inside and returned before he’d finished naming all the shrubs planted in her front garden to pass the time.

  He helped her mount, though there was some confusion about getting her legs into right places on the saddle at first. She was attuned to mounting for a sidesaddle rather than astride.

  Amity was laughing by the time she was secure on horseback with her feet in the stirrups. “Habits are so hard to break. I’m not accustomed to riding anything but sidesaddle now.”

  “Just remember to hold on with your knees and you’ll be fine.” Assured she was properly situated, he climbed atop his hired mount and turned toward the lane. Amity followed and they started out at a walk. “Did you have a horse of your own?”

  “Not since Papa died when I was a young girl. George said I shouldn’t ride alone or often, and the aunts who cared for me never dared disagree with him. If not for my cousins, Fairbridge, Nash, Jasper or Stratford. I’d never have been competent on horseback.”

  “Thank heavens for them.” He met her gaze and grinned. “From now on, you decide our riding pace, sweet lady.”

  “In that case, we need to ride much faster than this plod,” she warned before applying her heels and launching Argus into the lead, her laughter the only sound he heard from her until they reached their destination.

  Chapter 12

  Amity glanced around at the thoroughly neglected manor house, hoping Roman didn’t actually want to buy the place from Lord Barnes. It could have been so pretty if someone had cared enough to keep it in good order some time in the past. But it would take a long time, considerable money, and dozens of staff to bring such a ruin back from the brink. And that was her opinion after seeing only the outside. She dreaded what state of decline the interior must be in.

  But she dutifully played the part of Roman Crawford’s wife for the sake of appearances. Allowing him to fuss with their horses, even though she was quite willing to hold them and avoid going any farther. The steward knew her from the village but spoke exclusively to her husband. It irritated her to be so overlooked for an opinion.

  “As you can see, it’s a grand place,” the steward enthused to Roman. Pointing out features and ignoring the neglect.

  The steward was either blind or delusional if he thought they were too stupid to see the faults around them. This wreck of an estate would empty Roman’s coffers very smartly to bring it back to order. Although she suspected Roman could afford the purchase and bill to repair, Amity knew of dozens of unwanted estates, better kept and elsewhere, where she’d rather see him live.

  The steward appeared reluctant to show the interior, too, even when Roman requested to a second time. However, at the third request, the steward sighed and wrenched open a pair of French doors with some effort.

  Roman turned to her, wincing at the sound, his hand outstretched. “Sweetheart, shall we take a look?”

  She’d rather not but she put her hand in his and stepped inside, nose wrinkling immediately at the dust that rose up around her. She pulled out a handkerchief to press over her mouth and nose as they toured the lower floor of the house.

  Furniture had been piled up in corners without the benefit of dust cloths to even protect them from fading.

  Amity could easily see why Lord and Lady Barnes wanted to sell. Only one part of the dwelling seemed livable in her opinion, and that was the cavernous servants’ quarters at the very back, where the steward resided. The rest of the public rooms at the front and the bedchambers upstairs were like the outside—neglected terribly.

  She went back down the stairs and stopped at the front doors, eyeing the vines creeping around the frame with annoyance.