The Libertine by Saskia Walker

This was a dangerous situation
and she regretted voicing her question so directly. She’d meant to be bold—to
show him she was strong and not easily played. She’d come in to this with a
goal, but she was aware he was deriving more than his fee from it, and he seemed
to be enjoying her discomfort. She would not play this dangerous game with
doubts in her mind as to his purpose, therefore it was better to let him know
she was aware of his nature. Or, at least that is what she had determined as she
tried to decide whether or not to attend the meeting he suggested.
    “It is true, yes. Because there is nothing more powerful than
the life force exchanged by lovers, and we believe that nature’s way should be
revered, respected and harvested.”
    Chloris wished she hadn’t asked. The honesty and forthright
manner in which he spoke about matters of physical congress left her speechless.
It seemed that whenever she presented him with a question, his response was so
direct and lacking in shame that she felt somehow raw and exposed.
    His eyelids flickered and he reached out and grasped her
hand.
    Chloris resisted when he attempted to draw her nearer to
him.
    A warning flashed in his eyes. “Make haste, I hear a
carriage.”
    Startled into action, Chloris hastened alongside him. When she
glanced back she saw that her mount followed them, which was a great relief.
    “Here, shelter here.” He drew her in behind a large oak.
    With her back to the tree she was completely hidden from view.
Master Lennox faced her, one arm protectively raised against the tree trunk to
shield her. Concern marked his expression. It struck her oddly. He appeared to
care.
    Moments later a carriage trundled by.
    “Thank you,” she whispered when it had gone.
    The light was behind his head and the shadows made his features
appear even more dramatic. Chloris felt light-headed and found herself unable to
do anything other than stare up at him.
    “Come, we’ll go deeper into the forest.” His voice was low, and
he moved his hand to the small of her back, encouraging her to move.
    That touch made her feel self-aware. Her feet were strangely
leaden as if she were unable to step out. She looked back for her horse. The
mare was grazing.
    “She has found a sweet patch of grass,” he said. “She won’t
wander.”
    Chloris stared at him. How could he be sure? Was he that in
tune with their surroundings? Then he smiled at her, and she believed.
    Mustering herself, she returned his smile and stepped alongside
him.
    “It is a good time,” he said, looking up at the canopy of
leaves overhead. “The sunlight will fall across a patch of bluebells soon,
yonder.” He nodded his head deeper into the woods.
    Something about the way he spoke made her feel his deep bond
with the place. How strange it was, when he could so easily appear to be a fine,
cultured gentleman. Now, here in the wilds, he seemed even more at ease.
    His lip curled at one corner. “I believe it is the perfect
place for you to blossom.”
    Blossom. Yes, I believe I will .
    “Fear not, Mistress Chloris. I will look after you.” He reached
out and lifted her gloved hand to his lips. Even through the kid leather she
felt his heat.
    The smell of fern and blossom intensified.
    Affected by his concern for her rather than his charm, she felt
disarmed. He spoke in such persuasive tones, and when he met her gaze it was
with certainty and reassurance. Chloris believed he truly wanted her to flourish
in that way. It struck her that he took pride in his task, despite his
outlandish and forbidden nature.
    As he led the way, he took her hand. “The path is uneven, allow
me to guide you.”
    With her hand in his, her senses heightened. The twitter of the
birds in the branches overhead seemed more musical, more resonant. The smell of
the undergrowth became even more intense. It was him, she realized. His craft,
his magic. She was all but seeing through his eyes. It was startling. Her
determination to