the few steps necessary to reach the bed.
He laid her down and released her only long enough to remove his dressing gown. Then he was beside her again, and his hands began to move over her thinly clad body. When he lifted her out of her nightgown, she made no protest, conscious only of his growing urgency and a growing desire in herself to do whatever he asked because only by satisfying him would she find fulfillment for herself.
* * * *
Laura woke early the next morning as the first light was slanting grayly in through the blinds. She raised herself a little to look down at Mark sleeping beside her. In the early light his relaxed, unguarded face looked very young— as young as he really was. Not for the first time she wondered what it was that had brought that look of still remoteness to his face.
He was still deeply asleep, his thick sun-bleached hair ruffled on the pillow like a small boy’s. But he was not a small boy, she thought, remembering last night. She lay back against her pillows and regarded the crimson canopy over her. Not a small boy at all.
“Good morning,” he said in a soft low voice that sounded to her sensitive ears like a caress. She turned and looked at him. “Good morning,” she replied. And smiled. He didn’t move from where he lay, but put a hand up to gently touch her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his fingers. They did not get up for another hour and a half.
* * * *
They stayed in London for two weeks, during which time Laura fell in love. She flattered herself that she was getting to know Mark very well. She was touched by his kindness in dealing with Evans, whom he employed to work at Castle Dartmouth as a general estate worker. From the way Evans regarded Mark, she realized that he must have been an excellent officer.
“There were hardly ever any floggings on Commander ... Lord Dartmouth’s, I mean ... on his lordship’s ship,” Evans told her in the one conversation she had had with him on the subject. “And the provisions were the best. I mind how he once dumped a whole cargo of rotten food overboard. He was that angry! said Evans admiringly. “His men would do anything for him.”
The few people Mark and Laura saw in London during this time were all naval. They went to a dinner given by Viscount Melville, who was the present First Lord of the Admiralty, and there Laura met a number of the men who had known Mark over the course of his career. She had dressed carefully for the occasion, wanting him to be proud of her, and the warm glow in his eyes when he beheld her in her bronze velvet gown was her reward.
There were no uniforms worn at the dinner, but Laura thought secretly that most of the men present looked as though they ought to be wearing them. It was a revelation to her to see Mark in this company. He looked at home, alert but not wary. And he was obviously held in very high esteem by all these important men.
Captain Sir George Bouden, a gray-haired man in his late forties, was Laura’s dinner partner, and after some pleasant talk about the weather and the political situation, he seemed disposed to talk about Mark. Laura encouraged him shamelessly. “I don’t know much about this survey,” he told her. “Not my line at all, but Dartmouth has always been interested in it. He was always sketching and taking bearings, even when we were in the South Atlantic.”
“He is very scientific,” said Laura with a smile.
“I don’t know about science,” replied Sir George bluntly, “but I will say that I firmly believe he has no equal in the navy in any of the various qualities that constitute a seaman. He is a perfect navigator. A gallant and intelligent leader. An officer who excels in everything that relates to his profession. I’m damn glad to see he’s got himself married again, and to a girl like you.” He nodded at her approvingly, and Laura felt a little overwhelmed.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
‘Too many people in this town thrive on
He laid her down and released her only long enough to remove his dressing gown. Then he was beside her again, and his hands began to move over her thinly clad body. When he lifted her out of her nightgown, she made no protest, conscious only of his growing urgency and a growing desire in herself to do whatever he asked because only by satisfying him would she find fulfillment for herself.
* * * *
Laura woke early the next morning as the first light was slanting grayly in through the blinds. She raised herself a little to look down at Mark sleeping beside her. In the early light his relaxed, unguarded face looked very young— as young as he really was. Not for the first time she wondered what it was that had brought that look of still remoteness to his face.
He was still deeply asleep, his thick sun-bleached hair ruffled on the pillow like a small boy’s. But he was not a small boy, she thought, remembering last night. She lay back against her pillows and regarded the crimson canopy over her. Not a small boy at all.
“Good morning,” he said in a soft low voice that sounded to her sensitive ears like a caress. She turned and looked at him. “Good morning,” she replied. And smiled. He didn’t move from where he lay, but put a hand up to gently touch her cheek. She turned her head and kissed his fingers. They did not get up for another hour and a half.
* * * *
They stayed in London for two weeks, during which time Laura fell in love. She flattered herself that she was getting to know Mark very well. She was touched by his kindness in dealing with Evans, whom he employed to work at Castle Dartmouth as a general estate worker. From the way Evans regarded Mark, she realized that he must have been an excellent officer.
“There were hardly ever any floggings on Commander ... Lord Dartmouth’s, I mean ... on his lordship’s ship,” Evans told her in the one conversation she had had with him on the subject. “And the provisions were the best. I mind how he once dumped a whole cargo of rotten food overboard. He was that angry! said Evans admiringly. “His men would do anything for him.”
The few people Mark and Laura saw in London during this time were all naval. They went to a dinner given by Viscount Melville, who was the present First Lord of the Admiralty, and there Laura met a number of the men who had known Mark over the course of his career. She had dressed carefully for the occasion, wanting him to be proud of her, and the warm glow in his eyes when he beheld her in her bronze velvet gown was her reward.
There were no uniforms worn at the dinner, but Laura thought secretly that most of the men present looked as though they ought to be wearing them. It was a revelation to her to see Mark in this company. He looked at home, alert but not wary. And he was obviously held in very high esteem by all these important men.
Captain Sir George Bouden, a gray-haired man in his late forties, was Laura’s dinner partner, and after some pleasant talk about the weather and the political situation, he seemed disposed to talk about Mark. Laura encouraged him shamelessly. “I don’t know much about this survey,” he told her. “Not my line at all, but Dartmouth has always been interested in it. He was always sketching and taking bearings, even when we were in the South Atlantic.”
“He is very scientific,” said Laura with a smile.
“I don’t know about science,” replied Sir George bluntly, “but I will say that I firmly believe he has no equal in the navy in any of the various qualities that constitute a seaman. He is a perfect navigator. A gallant and intelligent leader. An officer who excels in everything that relates to his profession. I’m damn glad to see he’s got himself married again, and to a girl like you.” He nodded at her approvingly, and Laura felt a little overwhelmed.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
‘Too many people in this town thrive on
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