against her throat. And as for that enchantingly ridiculous nonsense of straw and ribbons she was pleased to call a hat – did she have any idea just what she was doing to him when she looked up at him from beneath its brim, or when he looked at her and could see only the straight sweetness of her nose, and the full promise of her mouth?
If he allowed her to win, John would never let him hear the end of it, but if he beat her…He too was holding his breath as he watched his egg roll down the grassy slope.
Just a few feet short of her own, Gideon’s egg came to a stop. Exhilarated colour warmed Ellie’s face. She started to turn towards Gideon and then stopped as out of the corner of her eye she saw Rex, John’s pup, suddenly rush past her in pursuit of the egg.
‘No…he mustn’t touch it!’ she cried out, but Gideon, guessing what the pup had been instructed to do, was already lunging down the hill. Angrily, Ellie followed him, whilst Robert Pride firmly held John back, demanding that he recall his errant accomplice.
The pup had already reached the egg, which he had picked up, but the moment he saw Nemesis in the shape of both Gideon and Ellie bearing down on him, he dropped it and headed back to his master.
The egg, given fresh impetus, rolled happily forward, quickly overtaking the others, before dropping out of sight into a small hidden grassy dip.
‘Oh no!’ Ellie cried out hotly, and then gasped, as she suddenly lost her footing and pitched forward.
Immediately, Gideon turned to try to help her, his arms wrapping protectively around her, and somehow ended up also slipping on the steep slope. Body to body they followed the path of the egg and, like it, came to rest in the secluded grassy dip.
‘Oh, that John,’ Ellie condemned her young brother, as she lay against the protective warmth of Gideon’s body, trying to get her breath.
‘He is a mischief,’ Gideon agreed in amusement, the expression in his eyes suddenly changing as he looked at Ellie. ‘But right now,’ he murmured, ‘it is his sister I am much more interested in. Has anyone ever told you, Ellie Pride, just how beautiful you are? How adorably sweet your nose is. How irresistibly kissable your lips are…?’
With every word he uttered Gideon’s voice became thicker and softer, and with every word Ellie’s sense of excitement and wonder grew. She could feel her heart beating so fast beneath the bodice of her dress that it was a wonder she could still breathe.
As he looked down at her, into her eyes and then at her mouth, before lifting his gaze to her eyes again, Gideon groaned softly.
‘Ellie,’ he whispered. His fingertips touched the side of her face, and he marvelled at the softness of her skin, its purity and perfection, whilst Ellie shuddered in pleasure that such a little touch should do so much!
She could feel the warmth of Gideon’s breath against her face, her lips. His eyes were no longer a cold silver grey, but a hot liquid gunmetal colour that made her insides feel as though they were melting.
His lips touched hers, brushing them gently. Ellie gave a small gasp and then a soft sigh.
Boldly, Gideon kissed her with more pressure. He could feel his longing for her, his love exploding inside him. Unable to stop himself he ran the tip of his tongue along the soft, closed virginal innocence of her mouth. Her lips felt so soft, so warm, so Ellie…Cupping her face in his hands, Gideon forced himself to remember where they were.
‘I know it may be too soon to say this to you, Ellie Pride, but let me tell you this,’ he began, his voice husky with emotion. ‘I love you and I will always love you. And just as soon as I am able to do so I intend to claim you for my own. For my wife,’ he emphasised, just in case Ellie might mistake the seriousness of his intentions.
Her eyes shining with emotion, Ellie gazed wonderingly back at him. Gideon loved her. And she knew that she loved him. Hadn’t she spent far too many nights lying in the bed she shared with Connie, secretly thinking about him and dreaming of a moment like this, even to think of doubting it?
‘Nothing can stop what’s happening between us,’ Gideon told her fiercely. ‘Nothing…and no one.’
‘If the ladies are ready, I suggest that we start to make our way back to Winckley Square.’
Courteously Stephen Simpson waited for the female members of his party to agree with him. It had been at his suggestion that they had gone to the park to watch the local children rolling their eggs. He had a house party this Easter, and his guests had clamoured to witness such an unusual custom.
As she joined the other ladies of the party, Mary Isherwood smiled at her host. The Simpson family had owned their gold thread works in Avenham Lane for several generations, and were a sociable family, who, Mary knew, had been very fond of her mother. It had been kind of them to invite her to join this party. The ladies of the family had been the first hostesses to leave a calling card on her return to Preston.
‘I understand that you are having a great deal of work done on your late father’s house.’
Mary turned towards the woman speaking to her. They had met for only the first time today, and it was tempting for Mary to reply that she must have come by her information from someone else, since Mary herself had made no mention of Isherwood House.
Almost as though she guessed what Mary was thinking, the other woman explained, ‘I live across the square from you. My husband is Dr Gibson.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Mary acknowledged, fibbing politely. ‘I believe I have seen you in the square with your family.’
‘My daughters,’ Amelia informed her proudly. ‘My eldest, Cecily, has recently become engaged to Mr Paul Charteris. His father is an eminent surgeon and Mr Charteris hopes to follow in his father’s footsteps.’
Mary was able to place the other woman now and to realise who she was. ‘Ah, yes. I see that your daughters have inherited the Barclay family looks. They are both very pretty girls.’
Amelia beamed and preened herself a little. ‘Well, yes, it is true that they have. That is…my sisters and I…and luckily all our daughters have…’ She trailed off as she saw the direction in which Mary was looking.
‘I see that you are admiring Mr William Ainsworth’s villa,’ she smiled.
‘Admiring it!’ Mary’s voice hardened. ‘I could never do that, knowing the nature of the man who built it. My father had the reputation of being a hard employer – he was certainly a very hard father – but his lack of regard for his workers was nothing to that of William Ainsworth. The cruelties and injustices he inflicted on those who worked for him!’ Mary’s mouth compressed. ‘It is an open secret that the fines he imposed upon his wretched workers for his own cleverly thought-up “offences” rendered them unable to live on what was left of their wages, to the extent that the female workers were forced to –’
‘My dear,’ Amelia intervened hastily, her face flushing, ‘I have no wish to offend you, but as an unmarried woman, I do not think –’
‘You do not think what?’ Mary challenged her sharply. ‘That I should have been indelicate enough to discuss the fact that members of our sex have to sell their bodies on the streets of our town simply to feed themselves? No, shameful indeed that I should dare to do so! But how much more shameful is it that such a situation should exist and that we as women should turn our backs on it?’
Without waiting for Amelia to respond, Mary turned away and went to take her leave of her host.
It was perhaps unfair of her to let rip at her neighbour in such a way, but it infuriated her that women of Amelia’s ilk should so easily and so damagingly turn their backs on the misery that lay so close to their homes. But then who could blame her for her attitude when the law of the land itself denied her any say in the way the country was run? It was inequitable that in a country like Great Britain, which considered itself to be the foremost and most advanced, politically democratic nation in the world, that its women should be denied the most basic and most important