Not easy, but dashed erotic, by Jove.

Her muscles clenched about him.

By Jove and by thunder!

She gripped his shoulders, arched her back so that her bosom was pressed against his chest, and tipped her head back against the trunk. Her eyes were closed, her teeth clamped on her lower lip.

He took her with swift, vigorous thrusts and no finesse at all until, after an almost embarrassingly short time, they both cried out and collapsed against each other.

It was perhaps, he thought in a moment of surprised clarity, the best sex he had ever had.

He found her mouth again as he leaned against her and they both relaxed.

“Katherine,” he said, slightly breathless.

She looked into his eyes and smiled. She reached up one hand to push the hair back from his brow.

“I love you,” he said.

“Yes,” she said with a sigh, “you do.”

They both laughed softly.

“You do,” she said, hugging him more tightly. “Oh, Jasper, I know you do. And I love you. I suppose I always have, though I would not have admitted it in a billion years if you had not loved me.”

“Always?” he said, drawing back his head and looking at her in the darkness.

“I fell in love with you at Vauxhall,” she said, “because you were dangerous. And I fell in love with you this year because you made me laugh and were so absurd. And then because… Well, just because. I do not know why.”

“Because I had a wager to win,” he said, “and went about it with consummate skill.”

She laughed and lifted her face for his kiss.

“There was another half to that wager if you will remember,” she said. “You insisted upon it. I am just as skilled as you.”

“I would be an idiot of the first order if I tried arguing with that,” he said. “What is my forfeit to be? Alifetime of love?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Ah,” he said, “the same forfeit that I am going to exact from you.”

“Very well,” she said.

And they kissed again for long minutes, their arms wrapped joyfully about each other.

“Jasper,” she said eventually, pushing him firmly from her, “we must be getting back. Whatever were we thinking, leaving everyone like this?”

“I believe,” he said, “to put it bluntly, Katherine, and to risk putting you to the blush, we were thinking about sex.”

“Oh, dear,” she said. “I fear you are right.”

They were halfway across the east lawn when she spoke again.

“I hope,” she said, “there will be a child soon. It will make my happiness complete.”

“I shall do my very best to see that it happens soon, then,” he said. “I am always eager to oblige you.”

“Perhaps I will be increasing by Christmas,” she said, “or next Easter. I do hope so.”

“Good Lord,” he said as they stepped onto the terrace, “you must think me a dreadful slowtop, Katherine. I would say by the end of September at the latest, the end of August at the soonest.”

“Oh,” she said. “I will not hope for it so soon or I will be disappointed when it does not happen. I say Christmas.”

“And I say the end of August,” he said as they rounded the end of the house and approached the balcony.

“Don’t tempt fate by saying that with such confidence,” she said.

He wrapped one arm about her waist and turned her to face him.

“Listen!” he said, holding up one forefinger. “Do you hear it? Do you feel it?”

She stood very still for a moment, frowning in concentration.

Hear what?” she said. “Feel what?”

“It is quite unmistakable,” he said. “I feel a wager coming on, Katherine.”

Her face lit with laughter.


Katherine and Jasper had decided upon one waltz for the evening. Only one because they were well aware that most of their neighbors would not know the steps. But one nevertheless because they could not resist the chance of dancing it in their own ballroom.

Their reacquaintance earlier in the spring had really begun with a waltz.

They would dance it again, then, at Cedarhurst during the summer ball.

When they had planned it, though, they had not expected to dance it alone.

When a waltz was announced, a number of people held back, as was understandable. But a number of people took partners too, most notably those who had come from London. They stood dotted thinly about the ballroom floor while the musicians tuned their instruments and everyone, it seemed, spilled out of the refreshment room and the card room and came in off the balcony and up from the parterre garden.

Everyone seemed eager to watch the waltz being danced.

Katherine stood in the middle of the floor with Jasper, waiting for the music to begin. She surely had never been happier in her life. And it was a happiness that had more than one cause. It had been a perfect day for Charlotte, for Meg and Stephen, for all the houseguests and neighbors. They had revived a tradition that would surely continue for years to come. Life at Cedarhurst was going to be very, very good.

And she loved Jasper. He loved her. They had just made love quite scandalously against one of the sturdy trees on the wilderness walk. How inspired a choice of venue that had been on his part. She would never again be able to remember Vauxhall without having that particular episode of this evening superimposed upon it.

It had been perfect.

And now the day was to end with a waltz.

Could anything be more perfect?

The orchestra was ready. The music was about to begin.

Katherine placed one hand on Jasper’s shoulder and set her other in his as his arm came about her waist and drew her as close as propriety allowed. She raised her face and smiled at him. He smiled lazily back.

The music began.

Katherine had no idea how many seconds or minutes passed before she realized that they were the only ones dancing, that the other couples had stepped back to join everyone else in watching them.

She looked, startled, into Jasper’s face.

“This is your doing?” she asked.

“With my fondness for dancing?” he said. “Absolutely not.”

But he grinned at her, and she smiled back at him.

“It would seem,” he said, “that we are expected to put on a demonstration.”

“Oh, dear,” she said.

“And this is not the time,” he said, “to look down to make sure I put on a left and a right foot when I was dressing for the evening.”

“It is not,” she agreed.

She looked about at all the familiar faces of family, neighbors, friends, laborers, and servants, at all the extravagant banks of flowers and greenery that had come from the hothouses and the gardens, at the candles in the wall sconces and the chandelier overhead, and at the man who held her.

All was color and light.

Like her life.

He twirled her about a corner of the floor and continued to twirl her down the center of the room while colors and light swirled and hands clapped.

Katherine laughed.

So did he.

“I have just remembered,” he said, “I did put on two left feet.”