"Why?" she asked.

"You feel warm at the moment only because of the contrast with what you were just feeling," he said. "It is really miserably cold in here, and the thickness of one blanket is not going to do much to hide the fact. We will have to share body heat for a while."

"No," she said. "We must start back soon if we are to be home before it is dark."

"Anne," he said, "I do not intend to do any more walking in the rain for a while. If someone had sense enough to leave these blankets for us, I am sure the same person will eventually send a carriage for us, especially if we are not back by dinnertime. I intend to make us as comfortable as possible until it arrives. Come here."

Anne came and was immediately enfolded, blanket and all, within his covering. He pulled her down to the floor, where they sat, their backs propped against the side of the boat. He was right, she found. Her nose and her wet hair soon registered the fact that it was cold inside the hut. She allowed her head to burrow its way into the blanketed hollow between his neck and shoulder. They sat silently for a while.

"Will Grandmamma not worry?" she asked at last.

"Worry?" he said. "Why would she? You are with me, are you not, and I am your husband. The worst she will imagine is that we will catch cold and not be able to speak our lines in four days' time."

"Should we not start walking, Alexander?" she suggested. "I feel warm now. I am sure it would be better to leave and get back to the house, where we can find dry clothes."

"I feel warm too," he said, "and comfortable. I say we stay."

There was silence again, during which dme Merrick turned a little toward her and pulled her further into the warmth of his body. "We seem to make a habit of getting caught in storms together, Anne, do we not?" he said, brushing his nose against her damp hair.

She did not answer but could not for the life of her have stopped lifting her face to him after a while, knowing even as she did so, just as if she had lived it all before, what would happen when she did so. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, questioningly, and then their lips met in a light, searching exploration. He was so warm. His breath was warm on her cheek, his lips against hers, his tongue circling her own and stroking against the roof of her mouth.

She moved back from him to allow his seeking hand to open the blanket that was wrapped around her and roam over her shoulders and down to her breasts. She could feel her nipple harden against his palm, and her own hands spread over the muscles of his chest and shoulders. This was ridiculous. It was one thing for him to come to her at night, a man claiming his conjugal rights. It was quite another for them to be kissing and fondling like this in broad daylight on the dirty floor of an old boathouse. She pushed at his chest.

"What is it?" he said, his eyes heavy as they looked into hers. "Are you not comfortable?"

"Don't, Alexander," she said. "Someone may come."

He laughed. "It would be an everlasting shame, would it not," he said, "for someone to find me in close embrace with my wife? But don't be afraid; we will hear the approach of horses for quite a distance. I shall have you chastely wrapped in your blanket again by the time anyone comes here."

He continued to smile at her, and Anne was mesmerized by the charm of such an expression directed fully at her. Her resultant hesitation was her downfall. Before she had a chance to argue further, his mouth was teasing hers again and his warm hand had strayed to her other breast to work its magic there. When he pushed impatiently at her blanket and brought her against his naked chest, she did not protest.

When the ache of their desire could no longer be satisfied with mouths and hands, Merrick slipped to the ground, taking the hard coldness of the floor against his back, and lifted Anne astride him so that he might cushion her body against his own warmth. But he was unaware of either the discomfort or the cold as he plunged them both into the world that they could find only together. He paced himself almost by instinct to the tensions of her body, allowing himself release only when he felt hers coming, seeking her mouth with his at the moment when he knew she would cry out.

Afterward, when he held her still-trembling form wrapped in his arms, cradled on his body, Merrick still felt no discomfort. He lay staring at the rough boards that made the roof, one of them rotted in a corner so that the rain dripped through to form a small puddle, as he felt Anne relax fully and her breathing become even. Anne. Was he going to be able to leave her in five days' time? He had not wanted her, had fought all these days against his growing need of her. But he feared that he was losing the battle. It would be hard to go back to Eleanor, who would, as always, chatter gaily to him while undressing and resume the conversation almost without break a minute after he had finished having intercourse with her. There was something very flattering, and utterly satisfying, about holding in one's arms a woman who slept as a result of one's lovemaking.

He raised one arm behind his head and with the other hand absently massaged her head through the damp hair. He could take her back with him just for the Season. If he tired of her within those few months, he could then send her back to Redlands. It would give him some pleasure to introduce her to the activities of town, to clothe her in the height of fashion. He would even derive some pride out of introducing her to the ton as his wife. Perhaps he would. He had a few days in which to think about it. It would certainly make amends in a small way for his treatment of her thus far. Life must be insufferably dull and lonely at Redlands.

Although his arm was cramped and the rough surface of the floor had made its presence felt through the blanket that lay between it and him, Merrick was almost sorry to hear the sound of approaching horses. He would have liked to watch Anne wake up and to have had the leisure in which to kiss her. She felt deliciously soft and warm. He shook her slightly.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," he said, "or someone is going to discover to his embarrassment that we really are man and wife." He rolled sideways and set her down in a sitting position on the floor. He laughed as she pushed his hands away and drew her blanket tightly around her.

Both of them were on their feet when Freddie pushed the door open. "Damme," he said. "Knew you would be here. Told Grandmamma so. 'Alex has brains,' I said. 'He will take Anne to shelter in the boathouse.' I was right."

"Grandmamma is here?" said Merrick, peering through the crack between the opened door and the side of the hut. "Then I had better put my shirt on or she will have an apoplexy. Good lad, Freddie, you brought a closed carriage. No, you don't," he said, turning to Anne. "I shall carry you out just the way you are. And you may take that as a command, madam."

Chapter 11

Two days before the play was to be performed, Lady Sarah Lynwood decided it was high time to perform the duties that her mother had assigned her almost two weeks before. She did not have an acting part, as she was much given to fits of the vapors when excited. Instead, she had been put in charge of the costumes. Actually, it was not a difficult task. The duchess was a hoarder; nothing was ever thrown away at Portland House if there were any possible use left for it. Even clothes that no longer fit or that had fallen out of fashion were packed away carefully in trunks and stored in the attic rooms if they were not suitable for giving to the servants or to the poor.

Thus Sarah had a wide choice of gorgeous garments in the styles of several decades before: skirted and satin coats, knee breeches, buckled shoes, and wigs for the men; wide, panniered skirts, tall wigs, feathered plumes, and even some patches for the ladies. All she needed to do was match up sizes and choose suitable styles and colors for each character.

Anne was the only other adult who seemed at all interested in helping. She was intrigued by the old-fashioned finery, which she had seen only in pictures before. Had people really worn all these heavy and costly clothes not so long ago? Somehow, when she really thought about it, she could almost imagine Alexander's grandparents as young people, dressed for a ball. They must have been a stately pair. Even now they both moved around with something of a regal bearing, as if they had learned from long habit as young people that they must keep their shoulders back and chins up if their wigs were to stay in place.

Anne went up to the attic with Sarah during the afternoon. The three children were with her. Meggie had found her in the rose arbor during the morning and told her very solemnly that Aunt Sarah would not allow them to look at all the old clothes upstairs, though Mamma had said that she was to go up later in the day to open up all the trunks. Kitty was crying and Davie was calling her a stupid girl and had called Aunt Sarah a bad word, though no one had heard except his sisters. Anne had winked at the child and promised to see what she could do. The children had been granted permission to come, provided they did not interfere with the serious business of their aunt.

Sarah picked out a kingfisher-blue satin gown for Anne to wear as Kate Hardcastle, grand lady. Through most of the play she would wear a plain outfit, borrowed from the housekeeper and taken in quite ruthlessly at the seams. But for one scene in the play, the one in which Alexander as Charles Marlow would know who she was and stammer his way through an interview with her, she must look as regal as possible. The skirt was very wide, a large bow gathering the fabric into a bustle at the back. The bodice looked as if it must be almost indecently low.

"Ah," Sarah said triumphantly, bent low over another trunk, "here are some hair plumes, Anne. They must have been made to match that gown." She drew out plumes of blue and green.

Anne laughed. "How ridiculously long they are," she said. "I should have to stoop to go through doorways with those in my hair."

"Especially when you are wearing that wig," Davie said, pointing to the piled creation that lay in a heap next to the gown.

"Do try them on," Kitty pleaded. "Please, Cousin Anne. We may not even see you all dressed up on the night. When we asked Mamma if we might watch the play, she said only that she will see."

"Yes, do let us see you," Meggie agreed.

Anne giggled. "I shall certainly not try on the gown up here," she said. "I shall need a great deal of help getting into that. But I will try the wig and the plumes. I shall feel so ridiculous."

Sarah was far too busy rummaging through the numerous trunks for likely costumes for the other characters to take any real notice of what went on behind her. It was left to the children to help Anne fit the wig; there was no mirror in the attic. Finally it was adjusted to the satisfaction of Meggie, the most critical member of her audience. Anne then sat down on the floor while the children placed the plumes in her hair.

"No, no," Sarah said during one moment when she had withdrawn her attention from a trunk, "plumes are meant to stand straight up, dears, to give a lady height, not float out behind like a tail. Worn like that, they would hit everyone in the eye who came within ten feet of her."

"Pull them out carefully, Davie," Meggie instructed, "or you will disturb the hair. Stay still, Cousin Anne. You are very patient. You are almost ready now."

"Oh," Anne said, turning her head as soon as the children had withdrawn their arms, "the box of patches. I should be quite undressed without a patch, you know. Come, you shall help me choose one."

Even Meggie was giggling when they finally settled on a black patch in the shape of a heart and placed it carefully close to the corner of Anne's mouth. Anne stood up and curtsied deeply to the children, being very careful to keep her head rigidly upright.

Davie clicked his heels to attention and made her an elegant bow. "May I have this dance, madam?" he asked, while Kitty clapped her hands and jumped up and down and Meggie watched, her head on one side.

"Damme," Freddie's voice said from the doorway, "you look as fine as five-pence, Anne. Don't she, Alex?"

Merrick was standing, one shoulder leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest. "Rather top-heavy, I would say," he said, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe, and Anne became self-consciously aware of how ridiculous she must look with such elaborate headgear and a simple cotton day dress.