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“Don’t look so cast down. I’m inclined to think you might be right. I’ve just found this in Wace. It echoes Geoffrey on our Jugein fellow and there is a variant spelling of Vigenin and,” he paused and grinned at her. “And I’ve found a third variation: Iuegyn,”

“Oh Deo!” She sprang up and flung her arms round his neck. “It is our man, then?”

“I think the order of probabilities comes down on the side of yes,” he temporized.

“Just say yes, Deo,” she said, leaning in to kiss him. He pulled her close then, and there was no more talking for a bit.

“Bed,” he murmured a while later, kissing her neck.

“Yes, I think we’ve earned it,” she said, and he scooped her up and carried her into the bedroom, where clothes got scattered, and they fell into bed.

*

Deo ran his hands over his wife’s lovely body and remembered with a guilty start that he hadn’t taken Kes for his walk. Poor fellow was getting neglected. He would take him out, but after he had finished pleasuring his wife.

As she had said, they deserved it. The joy of doing what you love and sharing it with someone you love—there was no greater felicity, and he hadn’t known it was possible to be this happy. His somewhat dreary and tightly controlled former existence seemed grey and foggy in comparison to the vibrancy that Em brought to everything. The intensity of feeling, the visceral pleasure of her body, and the unmitigated joy of her presence colored everything.

It was a shock to realize how quickly it had happened. In a matter of just over a couple of weeks, his life had been transformed. All thanks to this lovely woman beneath him. He cupped her small breasts in his great hands and kissed her with passion and tenderness. It was getting harder and harder to resist the inevitable. Fortunately, he was well-disciplined in self-restraint, or he would have given into temptation long ago. If Em had her way . . . The fact that she wanted him brought him undone in ways that he couldn’t have fathomed a week ago.

He slid sideways and murmured, “Em, turn on your side.”

She threw him a puzzled look and rolled toward him.

“No, the other way,” he said.

She rolled away. “Like this?”

“Yes,” he said, pulling her back against his front and spooning her tiny frame with his large body. He ran a hand down her belly to the place between her legs and stroked her softly.

“Oh, Deo,” she sighed, squirming her lovely bottom into his groin. His cock, already hard, caught between her buttocks, and he groaned. He moved back a fraction and used his hand to adjust the position of his cock. Sliding it instead along the channel of her wet lips, between her thighs.

“Deo,” she gasped.

He kissed her neck and nuzzled her ear, sliding a hand under her to reach a breast, while his other hand continued to stroke that place he knew gave her the strongest pleasure. He moved his hips a bit and found that sliding his cock along her flesh was just about the most pleasurable thing he’d ever felt. “You like that?” he asked huskily.

“Yes!” She moved with him, and he groaned again. He wasn’t going to last long in this position, it felt too good. He sped up the stroking of his fingers between her legs and tweaked her nipple gently, encouraging her to reach her peak before he lost control. The pleasure was building rapidly in his groin, as his cock slid backward and forward in the hot slippery hollow between the tops of her thighs and the satiny lips of her sex.

Perhaps it was the novelty of it that made it so erotic—he’d certainly never done anything like this before. He was getting quite inventive with ways to pleasure Em without taking her fully.

“Em, come with me!” he begged, panting, his hips moving faster of their own volition. She squirmed, her thighs tightening, and gasped.

“Deo!” her choked cry cut off and her body shook, and he lost the last vestige of his control. The pleasure spiked in a hot rush of heat and bliss, as he came hard, his cock shooting its load onto the sheets in front of her.

He groaned with the release and pulled her tight against him as the throbs of pleasure slowly died away. He got his breath back, listening to the heavy beat of his pulse in his ears and feeling it in his chest as it settled. He hugged her and kissed her neck in wordless joy.

She twisted in his embrace to face him and, wrapping her arms round his neck, she kissed him. “The perfect end to another perfect day,” she whispered.

“Yes,” he murmured, kissing her again. Their legs tangled, and they lay together in silence for a few minutes in contentment and shared accord. This was what he had dreamed of and never thought he would have. The best that he had aspired to was the notion of a companion who would share the work with him. He never thought that their communion would run so deep or extend to such physical passion.

Kes who had been lying by the fire, chose this moment to paw at the bed.

“All right, old fellow,” he mumbled. “I’ll have to take Kes out,” he said, disentangling himself reluctantly from Em.

She nodded and smiled. “Hurry back. I’ll miss you,” she said whimsically, reaching for a handkerchief to wipe the sheets.

He dove back to kiss her again. “I will.” He stroked her nose and got out of bed to pull on his clothes. The days were getting warmer as they edged toward the height of summer, but the nights were still chilly. Going through to the sitting room, he let Kes out, and he escorted the dog downstairs and through the drawing room double doors to the north lawn. He paced while Kes ran about sniffing and finding a suitable spot to do his business under a shrub.

Reentering the house, he closed and locked the French doors and went back out into the front hall. He crossed the hall and ascended the stairs with Kes by his side. He couldn’t wait to crawl back into bed with Em where it was warm and comfortable.

*

His heart pounding in his chest, Bryson watched the Earl climb the stairs through a crack in the library door.

When he was sure Pendrell had reached the second floor and his bedchamber, he slipped out of the library, closing the door carefully behind him. With his prize tucked under one arm while he carried his candle, he made his way quietly back to his own room.

Once there, he lit a full candelabra on the desk and sat down to thumb through Emily’s sketchbook and select the images he wanted. He then drew paper, pen and ink from the drawer and began the planned letter to his broker. An hour later, he had the letter copied out fair and, adding the sketches, placed the lot in a large envelope. He would slip into town early to post it.

He wondered what to do with the sketches he had not used. Should I return the book with the remaining sketches? Burn it? He decided against either. The former because it would alert Pendrell that someone was after the items whose pictures were missing, and the latter because they were Emily’s drawings, and he might get an opportunity to win her favor by “finding” and returning them to her. He was fonder of her than he had thought was possible. If only he could find some way to drive a wedge between her and Pendrell and turn her heart toward him.

Well satisfied with this night’s work, and contemplating different scenarios in which Emily became his, he undressed and crawled into bed.