Stealing Trinity by Ward Larsen Page A

recreation firmed up, dinner drifted to its natural conclusion. Edward was the first to leave, ambling off to the library to catch up on work. Lydia excused herself, and Braun watched as she stood. He allowed his gaze to settle obviously on the deep cleavage that fell between the folds of her crimson dress. He then looked up at her eyes, which told him everything he needed to know.
    The knock came just after midnight, a quiet rap against the hardwood door of his room. Braun had known it would come. He opened the door to find her in a sheer nightdress, her shape silhouetted against the dim light beyond. He took her by the hand and pulled her inside. Neither spoke. Lydia pulled the nightdress over her head and walked to the window, her figure clear now as moonlight filtered in. Braun went to her and she fell back onto the window seat, pulling him down.
    A cool breeze swept in, but did nothing to cleanse the aerosol of confusion in Braun's mind. His senses were overwhelmed and he closed his eyes, perhaps hoping one less input would help him find control. It did nothing. His head ached from too much Cabernet. Lydia writhed beneath him. Pulling, tugging, moaning. His body responded. Pleasure teasing an insurmountable pain. There were bright flashes, explosions that echoed in his head like thunder. It was not a dream, nor a nightmare. Only the vicious circumstance of his existence.
    He felt her rhythm. He felt the heavy, ice-cold marble under his feet. Braun heard her panting against the sound of waves breaking outside. Finally, he opened his eyes and found them drawn not to her, but up toward the open window. The moonlight seemed exceptionally bright, as if Sargent Cole had been able to purchase something more. The grounds were immaculate, torches lining the paths for no particular occasion. A servant had placed chairs around a table on the lawn, carefully setting the stage for yet another day's calculated idleness. Everything would again be perfect.
    His thoughts turned frantic, parallel but somehow separate from the bucking underneath. When relief came it was overwhelming, and with little regard for the woman below him. He was sure it could have been any woman.
    In the period of reconstitution that followed, everything fell to silence and stillness. Eventually Lydia spoke, a sweaty murmur buried deep in his chest. Braun did not hear the words. He could do nothing but stare out the window and wonder.
     

Chapter 13.
    While attendance at dinners was mandatory, breakfast at Harrold House was a more leisurely affair. All were expected to make an eventual appearance, but no schedule was drawn, and the members of the household crossed paths randomly. Braun entered the dining room to find Edward at the end of his coffee and financial section, while Lydia was parked behind a huge plate of eggs and meat.
    "Good morning, Alex," Edward chimed in.
    "Morning, Edward, Lydia." Braun watched her smile through a mouthful of food. "You look famished," he prodded.
    With Edward lost behind his newspaper, Lydia smiled brazenly and winked.
    Braun went to the buffet. He found a half dozen selections in such huge quantities that he knew most would go to waste, even after the servants had had their chance. He paused at a massive stand of bacon. No one here could imagine the conflict he felt as he reflected on the last time he'd seen such a pile of pork. Desperate for any warmth on a subzero Russian night, he had slept huddled against a sow. The next morning, his fellow troops had slaughtered the animal and gorged themselves. Braun moved to the eggs.
    "Are you working today, Edward?" Lydia asked.
    Edward peered around the Journal "Of course, dear. A few hours, anyway. I'll never make partner if I dont at least show my face each day."
    Partner, Braun thought. The summit of his ambition.
    Edward said, "But my doctor has prescribed fresh air, so Til be taking the boat out this afternoon. What do you say, Alex? Are you up for some sailing?" He turned to