After a few days of rare sunshine and heat, dark clouds rolled in and blanketed the city again. A cold, misty rain flooded the streets till they ran thick with rivers of black soup filled with untold horrors. Those who didn't have to be outdoors were forced to stay in.

Lady Ann Seymour was only too delighted not to pay calls or receive visitors. Indeed, she hadn't emerged from her bedchamber all day. No one was permitted to go near her bedroom door. None dared to disobey. Her servants listened to the echo of muffled ragged cries and grunts over rhythmic beats, and exchanged knowing glances.

Shut away behind closed doors, Lady Ann knelt naked at her lover's feet, with her head against the edge of her bed. She arched back her throat to give his perfect cock more access. It was an act of sublime worship that pleased him best. His fists in her hair to control the depth of her movements felt like approval. Sometimes she wondered if she craved his approval even more than she craved him. Her sharp ears picked up every change in the cadence in his rhythmic panting. Was he pleased? Has she done well?

As always, there was a price for her absolute surrender. Her whole naked body strained under his power thighs. Her bulging eyes watered from the force of each deep thrust. She blinked away those tears to gaze adoringly up at his sculpted frame. His face was backlit by a nearby oil lamp, denying her a full view of his face. But his silhouette displayed enough of his masculine perfection that it still filled her with sheer awe.

Just when she thought she couldn't take much more of it, as she felt faint from the strain of it all, he drew back. With a swift motion, he climbed over her to the bed, where a dark-haired naked young woman waited on her hands and knees for him.

Ann wiped at her raw, swollen lips as she turned to watch him pull the young woman's supple rump towards him with one hand, as he spat into his other hand. She always enjoyed watching this display of raw, brutal force. She loved that he didn't seem to care at all who it was that he plunged into in a rush to meet that carnal need. That other woman, with her face hidden by her long dark hair, gave a moan of satisfaction that may as well be Ann's own. Ann's cat-light eyes widened as she slid her hands up his powerful calves, to his thighs, to feel the power of his thrusts. She left a trail of worshipful kisses as she wondered again if she had pleased him. Nothing else mattered to her as much as his pleasure.

Lady Ann was not a young woman anymore, but she possessed a self-assured beauty that came with maturity. Her husband was long dead, and her children had grown. That left her with enough wealth that she could do as she pleased for the rest of her days. Yet she would give it all up without a second thought to be with this man who reached so far, so deep into her core, he pierced her heart.

There wasn't a part of Ann's creamy skin that didn't bear the red prints from him earlier. All her muscles were tender and hummed from an earlier ecstasy that only he seemed capable of giving her. And yet, despite it all, as Lady Ann watched him, she couldn't hold back a growing dread from creeping over her.

From the very beginning, he was there to satisfy a need, while he was the centre of her universe. Did he know? Did he even care? Being enthralled with a man who didn't love her was the worst place for a woman to be. Yet, she couldn't help herself, could she? There was no one else like him. It drove her to live in constant fear every encounter would be the last. During the long intervals they spent apart, she tore herself to bits, wondering what she had done to displease him that kept him away for so long. And then when she received his short message telling her to expect him, she'd whip herself into a frenzy as though she were to receive the king.

Deep down, she knew their arrangement wouldn't last. She had given too much of herself too quickly, too eagerly. There was no mystery left to her to keep his interest. She knew this, and yet she couldn't help submitting to this notoriously hard to please man. Soon-- very soon-- he'd grow tired of her, even as she pushed for even more decadence and debasement to keep his interest. One day he'll walk out her door, never to return, and that could very well destroy her. She knew this the same way she knew when the rain would come by the dull ache in her bones.

Ann crawled up the bed to drape herself, cat-like, over the other woman's nakedness. Used up, the nameless woman had rolled to her side to fall into a deep sleep.

"Are you pleased, my lord?" Ann asked, careful to keep the desperation from her voice. But when he didn't answer, didn't even look at her, she rose to her knees to stop him from turning away. "My lord?"

Silence.

"What's troubling you?" she tried again as she ran worried fingers through the damp, dark hairs on his muscled chest. She dragged her languorous gaze over him, drinking in every detail. A statue of Apollo came to mind, and he was as distant, unyielding as any god.

He stared unseeing at a spot somewhere over her head. His jaw tightened before he got up off the bed. She watched, her stomach twisting into a panicked knot as he set about getting dressed. Was he leaving? So soon?

"Lord Davenport!" she cried out, alarmed. Then quickly softened her tone with a charming flutter of her lashes. "What's the matter?"

Next to Ann, the young woman yawned with her mouth wide open as she rolled up into a sitting position. The girl pushed back a nest of dark hair from her groggy eyes and was about to speak when Ann snapped her fingers to silence the girl.

Lord Davenport glanced back at the pair of them on the bed with a confused scowl. "Had he forgotten they were there?" Ann wondered as she watched him fumble with his pockets.

He tossed a handful of coins at the young woman. "You can go."

"Shall I go too?" Ann asked once they were alone.

"Apologies, Ann," he said, wiping away his distraction by dragging rough hands down his face. "I'm not very good company at the moment, I'm afraid."

Years of careful practice kept Lady Ann's expression inert. She was all too aware that while she awaited in suspended animation for his more and more infrequent visits, hers might not be the only bed he visited. What could she do? Their arrangement precluded her from making any demands of him.

"I know what will improve your mood," she said, feigning cheerfulness. "We'll stay in. I'll have--"

"Not tonight." He retrieved his shirt that had fallen over the back of a chair. "Philip leaves tomorrow. I must see him before he goes."

"You're sending him away?" she asked as she watched him.

He sat on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on. "Philip's not my servant that I can dismiss. He's managing some of my interests up north."

"Philip is fortunate to have you," Ann said as she crawled across the bed next to him to rest her cheek on his broad shoulder. "Without you to give him a living, I shudder to imagine where the poor boy might be."

He moved away from her to finish dressing. "I wouldn't call it generosity. He's my blood, after all."

In the back of his mind, Lord Davenport was replaying his last conversation with Philip.

They had just left the Warwicks' disastrous tea. Philip was angrier than Lord Davenport had ever seen his younger cousin. "How could you? I'm not asking for my sake, but how could you do it? You could have ruined her!"

"No one of consequences saw," he retorted with a flick of his fingers, even as Philip's remark and his own actions irked him.

"Are you in love with her?" Philip queried in a small, unhappy voice. "Do you intend to marry her?"

Lord Davenport let out a derisive snort. "Don't be stupid!"

But something stirred in him. He could still taste Evelyn's lips, tinged with the aroma of strawberries. His fingers still recalled the feel of her curves. Her soft-spoken barbs echoed in his ears.

"That wasn't just a stroll in the garden, was it?" Philip raged. "I tell you your behaviour was rakish and— and beneath you. I expected such behaviour from Milton or one of the others, but not you. Not you!"

It was on the tip of Lord Davenport's tongue to fire back that the beguiling Lady Evelyn was not the vision of purity she presented. But he knew that revealing her conduct would appear petty and defensive at that moment. And Philip would not believe him. Not now.

"It won't happen again," was his terse reply. "I know your feelings towards her, and for that, I apologise."

The corners of Philip's lips drew downward as his Adam's apple bobbed. "My feelings are inconsequential. I simply do not understand why you would be so reckless-- "

"Enough!" Lord Davenport thundered, his patience at an end. "I'm no more, no less than any other man. As for — well, I assure you, Lady Evelyn's honour was never in any danger! Not from me!"

Lady Ann held a tumbler of whiskey to him to rouse him from his troubled thoughts. He looked up at her. She had thrown on a brocade robe that she left open. He waved aside the drink even as his heavy gaze lingered on her curves. He imagined her with a different face.

"We'll dine tomorrow or the following night if you are not otherwise engaged," he offered.

"I'm not engaged. Will you be?" Ann asked in a soft, saddened voice. At his quizzical look, she smiled again. "I hear your father is keen to see you married."

"Did he take out an advertisement?"

"Is there a candidate?" she asked, feigning nonchalance. Her heart hoped, but her mind knew he would never say that it was her.

"What a thing for you to ask me."

"Mere curiosity. It'll be quite the thing when Lord Davenport finally takes a wife."

"I suppose I can't put it off for too much longer."

"So you do intend to marry?"

"I say again, what an odd thing for you to be asking me."

"Can you blame my curiosity? It's what everyone will be wondering."

He said nothing as he adjusted the signet ring on his left pinky as he stood up. The faraway look in his eyes and the sudden rose tint to his cheeks alarmed her more than it ought to. Something was different about him. Very different indeed.

"Who do you have in mind?" she asked with feigned cheer. However, she sounded strained even to her own ears. "Perhaps I can help you with the selection? Gauge her temperament and suitability for your— tastes?"

"Are they not all the same?"

"Indeed," Ann replied with a feigned light-hearted chuckle. Deep down, she felt like bursting into tears. "There's nothing extraordinary amongst this season's crop. I say wait a bit longer."

"Will next year yield different results from the preceding ones?"

Ann tossed her hair and arched her back to display her lithe body to its best advantage. "Of course, Lord Davenport must marry the most ravishing young woman of unimpeachable lineage. Nothing less would be acceptable."

"Acceptable to whom?"

"Why, everyone!"

A corner of his lips curled into a mirthless smile. "You lot with your fanciful notions."

"We want romance."

"Then you must be constantly disappointed."

"Is romance so unattainable?"

He went to her to chuck her under the chin. "When you insist on projecting your fantasies on the wrong man, then yes."

Ann caught his hand in both of hers with a bit too much force. She lowered her eyes so he couldn't see her desperation. "Who will be Lady Davenport, then?"

"One my father deems worthy," was his wry reply. "He's something of an expert."

Lady Ann recalled the old rumours. She went to sit back on the bed, her robe parted away from her shapely breasts, then crossed her legs just so. His languishing gaze followed her movements as she had hoped he would. He was a man, after all.

"How droll, my lord," she said as she traced her fingers over a pert pink nipple. "Most men look forward to ploughing a virgin field. You make it sound like a chore."

He didn't bother to respond.

Ann crawled to the edge of the bed to snake her arms around him. She peered into his mesmerising blue eyes to decipher his thoughts, but a veil came down, shutting her out. She pulled him down on the bed, then rose over him to straddle his thighs. Then, slowly and seductively, she started to undo his shirt, placing gentle kisses on the warm skin she exposed. "Need I remind you, my lord, that a young wife will not satisfy your baser needs. She'll think it beneath her dignity."

Lord Davenport watched her as she slid down to the foot of the bed. He registered no surprise when she knelt between his legs, nor did he stir when she unfastened his trousers.

She gave him a wicked smile and a wink. "But you have me for that. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

Though he did a sharp intake of breath when she took him back in her mouth, she noted he said nothing to her offer.