In recognition of what each truly yearned for in this, their shared life.
Freed, unrestrained, the compulsion—that unrelenting force—grew, built, and consumed them.
He’d never let go like this, never totally relinquished the reins and let his inner self free.
Free to claim her with all—every last drop—of the intensity that lived in his soul.
Free to claim, with her, all that they could be.
Then the moment was upon them, and she shattered, arching beneath him and taking him with her, and he tipped back his head and, on a long guttural groan, surrendered and let the power take him. Claim him and consume him.
Finally, wracked and spent, he collapsed upon her, and she wrapped her arms around him. Boneless, still reeling, they slumped as the aftermath rolled over them, submerging them in satiated peace.
Their desires satisfied, their needs met.
Love in all its power and glory acknowledged and given its due.
Uncounted minutes later, they disengaged, crawled beneath the covers, and secure in each other’s arms, slept.
Chapter 15
Eight hours later, Julian, Melissa, Felix, and Damian met over the breakfast table. They were relieved to learn via Phelps that the dowager and Frederick had elected to breakfast in their rooms.
“Good.” Damian spoke for them all. “That means we can discuss this wretched situation without having to watch what we say.”
Melissa reached for the toast rack Phelps had just set on the table. “I hope your mother can rein in her anxieties until we get to the bottom of this.”
Felix grimaced. “Uncle Frederick, too. They’re nearly as bad as each other.”
“I think it’s that they feel helpless.” Julian attacked a sausage. “We, at least, can actively do something while both of them are relegated to watching.”
“And”—Melissa waved a fork—"learning of things well after the event. That always predisposes one to imagine the worst.”
“Speaking of the worst.” Julian looked around the table, his gaze briefly touching each face. “What do you think are the odds of Benton being the one who trapped us in the barn and then set fire to it?”
Melissa pointed out, “As one of the upstairs maids, she would have known where to find Ulysses, and he might have recognized her well enough to let her take him without creating a fuss.”
Felix frowned. “I would have said lifting the beam on the barn door would have been beyond a female, but Benton’s a good size, and she does seem strong. I rather think she could have managed it.”
“But did she?” Damian looked from Melissa to Felix to Julian. “We know she tried to poison Melissa, but trapping you three in the barn and setting it alight seems a”—he gestured—“different sort of attack.”
Grimly, Julian nodded. “I feel much the same. And that means we have yet another of X’s pawns to ferret out.”
“Why not start by seeing which of the staff can’t be accounted for around three o’clock yesterday afternoon?” Melissa looked at the others. “Whoever trapped us in the barn and set it on fire had to have been down there at that time rather than being busy with their work.”
“An excellent point.” Julian nodded at Damian. “Ring for Phelps.”
The butler had tactfully withdrawn, leaving them free to talk unrestrainedly. When Phelps arrived, Julian explained their need to know who was where at the crucial time when whoever had trapped them in the barn was there rather than in the castle.
Phelps nodded. “Yes, my lord. I see.” He paused, then suggested, “Perhaps we might consult with Mrs. Phelps?”
Melissa tipped her head in agreement. “An excellent idea.”
Mrs. Phelps was duly fetched, and when Melissa asked if, on the previous afternoon, Benton could have slipped away to the barn around three o’clock, Mrs. Phelps pursed her lips, her gaze growing distant as she appeared to consult some mental timetable, then she refocused on Melissa and shook her head. “I seriously doubt Benton could have been down there, my lady. She was helping neaten the upstairs rooms at that time.”
“Are you certain she was there?” Felix asked.
Melissa specified, “Could she have slipped away for about half an hour without anyone else knowing?”
