“I kissed you three years earlier and only once because I needed to test how it worked.”
Seph laughed. “Was it so bad you had to run off and find other girls to practice with?”
He leaned in conspiratorially, “I liked you too much. And besides, I did much more than just kiss Becky Wentworth!”
Seph smacked his arm and laughed. “You’ll fall one of these days.”
“Never.” He smiled, his warning given, Marsden would now let her have her fun.
“Well, I fully intend to enjoy myself,” she said with a broad smile.
“Good for you.” Marsden gave her a small nod. A nod of comrades. This was the life he lived, house parties and liaisons. It was as exciting as it was turbulent. Yesterday she was agitated, restless, sinking, and now, in moments she was alive; heart beating faster, skin flushed, and about to soar.
Everyone bustled to their former places as they waited for the Princes Petroski to be shown in.
‘Prince Vladimir Petroski and General Vladimir Petroski’, were announced to the room.
Her gaze locked with Ilya’s and everything else faded. Strong jaw, sensual lips, eyes that burned into her, he was not the most handsome man she had seen and yet now when she looked at him, there was no one more perfect. No one more appealing for her to gaze on.
She knew the feel of his body, what his weight on her felt like, how it felt to have his flesh push deeply into hers. Never in her married life had she looked at her husband like that, despite shared marital relations.
Ilya felt like an extension of herself. It was therefore not the shared sexual acts that created that connection, it was something far more magnificent. It was love. Love made that carnal knowledge something exceptional, as if he was a twin to her own soul.
Did she love Ilya? Sometimes she was confident she was managing herself well, keeping the required detachment. And then at other times, she was literally drowning in the feelings and emotions she had for him. Emotions and feelings that must soon cause her great pain.
Chapter 12
There was not a great deal of time for her to talk to Ilya after their arrival. Seph watched as people flocked around them, as women flirted and fluttered eyes at him and Demetri. But Ilya found small ways to make her smile, a wiggle of his eyebrows in the middle of a conversation that made her laugh. And at lunch, telling the room how unacceptable trifle was as a dessert and how a mean spirited harpy had fed it to him under dire threats which had the whole table laughing and the hostess whispering to the butler to remove the dessert from the menu.
The afternoon revealed itself to be another rare day with the sun out, shafts of glorious light spearing the forest, falling through bare branches and snow-covered pines. Those who had not gone back out to hunt either settled for an afternoon rest or some relaxation in the front room with a book by the fire or a game of backgammon.
Ilya sat in the chair opposite hers. They both had books but neither had turned a page in the last twenty minutes. Instead they looked at each other over the top of their respective volumes making a comment here and there about items of news or the weather. Her body was wound so tight with the allure of him she had to move.
Seph put her book down and made a pretense of inspecting a painting on the wall near the door. “This could be a Turner,” she said to the room.
“I believe it is,” Lord Bellamy said, not looking up from the paper.
“Impossible. I would have noticed,” Ilya said, rising from his chair and walking over to her and the little pretense hanging on the wall.
“Can you read the signature?” Seph asked so they both leaned in closer to look. His hand rested next to hers on the small side table and he rubbed the side of her finger with one of his. Small delicious touches that made her breasts ache to be caressed, to have those soft sure strokes and squeezes he knew she liked. The glow in her chest felt so bright she should be illuminating the whole room.
“Half an hour, put your coat on, come for a walk with me.” Ilya whispered to her. “Yes, a Turner it is,” Ilya said to the room, walked back to his chair, picked up his book and resumed his seat. No one responded, everyone deep in their own interests.
“I might rest,” Seph excused herself. Upstairs she hurriedly freshened up then claimed her coat from the butler downstairs.
“I was asked to give you this.” The butler presented her a small note on a silver tray.
“Thank you.” Seph read the missive.
Follow the corridor back to the conservatory behind the West wing.
In moments she found Ilya in his great coat and fur hat waiting for her.
“Come here.” His arm wrapped around her, drawing her against him. “My beautiful Seraphina. I’m glad you came.” his lips, soft and warm murmured against hers. Her hands slid up his chest over his coat. How was it another’s body could start to feel as familiar as your own, maybe even more so?
“I thought you’d changed your mind,” she said against his lips before he pressed back against hers. His tongue, slipping into her mouth and tasting deep, made her body ripple awake.
“Demetri had business that took him longer than expected.” Ilya rubbed his nose, cool against hers, his eyes full of that hungry look he gave her when he was about to do something delicious to her. “Seeing you and not touching you is driving me crazy.” He stepped away, keeping an arm around her and guided her to the conservatory door which led outside. “Come. I was told there is a path into the forest and as long as we stay on this side of the estate we shouldn’t have to worry about those hunting.”
They slipped out of the side door of the conservatory, the air suddenly crisp and cold on her face.
“Not in the house a few hours and you already have people telling you its secrets. The conservatory and path to the forest, where the hunting party is.”
Ilya tapped the side of his nose with his gloved finger. “A gentleman makes sure to connect with the right staff in the household immediately upon arrival.”
They followed a white gravel path which meandered alongside the woods. Their feet crunched on the small stones. There was a flurry of distant shots and hounds barking.
“Do you hunt?” The air in front of her puffed white.
“I am an excellent shot. In Russia on our estates we hunt elk, deer, wild boar. Rabbits, foxes and birds I leave to the boys.”
“Boys?” she laughed. “Well don’t say that to the men here, they are hunting partridge today.”
“Oh, I’ll leave the diplomacy to Demetri.” His shoulder bumped hers playfully.
“Demetri bought a car as well I see?”
Ilya shook his head no. “Demetri has no interest in buying a car. You will come to know he is a traditionalist. Always serious. I was able to get the car on loan for him. He has a lot on his mind, I thought it would cheer him up to drive here.”
Seph glanced up at him but, from his expression he didn’t think what he’d said was odd.
The path turned deeper into the forest. Last night’s snow had yet to melt on the bare branches. It rested on their horizontal surfaces, the wind playfully knocking it down to melt on the ground in small flurries. Seph pressed her hands deep into her pockets as they walked.
“You know Ilya, the periodical seems to have the descriptions of you and Demetri reversed wouldn’t you say?”