handsomely shaped. And his sensitive gift for painting carried over to the way he used his hands, mouth, and entire body, in the act of love.
A sharp pain spread through Micheline's breast. She was so afraid now that daylight had invaded their private world. It did no good to lie here mooning over him, for her suffering would only be worse later. She had to leave the bed before Andrew woke. If he opened his eyes she might drown in them and never find her way out.
Slowly Micheline edged away. When his hand slid from her breast, he made a sound and rolled onto his back, freeing her completely. Quickly but carefully, she slipped to the edge of the bed. Her torn chemise was there. She took it with her as she emerged naked in the sunlit but chilly air of the cottage. The abrupt change from the scent of Andrew inside the bedhangings sent another sharp twinge through her heart.
Fiercely, Micheline told herself that the joys of the past night must last her a lifetime. There would be pain, but in the end the pain would be less, so she must not look back!
Repeating this litany to herself, Micheline donned her petticoat, gown, and stockings. Without a chemise she felt doubly conscious of her tender breasts and womanhood. She washed with the melted snow left from last night, then stirred the embers in the hearth and added wood. Soon the cottage felt warmer. Micheline sat down before the fire to brush her hair.
Across the room the curtains stirred on Andrew's side of the bed.
"Michelle! Come back!" he moaned in mock agony.
She tried to steel her heart, wishing that she didn't have to talk to him just now... or look at him. What if he touched her?
"You must get up, Andrew," she said in as neutral a tone as she could manage. Walking over to the bed, Micheline drew back the draperies to let in a flood of sunshine. He still lay on his back, looking tanned and tempting against the white pillows. In defense against the bright light, his strong forearm came up to cover his eyes.
"It's cold," he complained. "Come back to bed."
As hot blood rushed to her face, Micheline wished that her cheeks would not invariably betray her. "Morning is passing, and everyone at Fontainebleau will be worried about us. We should go back now."
Her tone gave Sandhurst pause. Suddenly he was fully awake, sitting up and reaching for her hand.
"What's amiss, fondling?"
She perched on the edge of the bed, but averted her eyes from his penetrating gaze. "Nothing is wrong! The sun is out and we must be on our way before they come to search for us."
Wondering if this was a dream, he ran his free hand through his hair and tried to think, but thought only confused the situation further. The truth was in his heart, what he felt and what he knew that Micheline felt. Shortly after dawn Sandhurst had awakened to discover her naked body curled trustingly against his own. The sight of her face, and the contented smile she wore even in sleep, had reassured him that all they had shared in the darkness had been very real. Micheline had looked as transformed as he felt, but now that she was awake, everything seemed changed.
"Look at me, Michelle."
She managed only a quick, painful glance. "You really must rise and dress now—"
"Why are you acting as if you're afraid of me?"
"Don't talk nonsense." Instinctively she tried to free her hand from his, but he held fast.
"Was last night nonsense?"
Micheline's blush deepened. "No, no—of course not. But... it was a mere interlude of pleasure. I am not ashamed of what I did, but you should understand that I do not care to dwell on it. Last night is gone, and I would like to put it behind me. What we did changed nothing."
"Indeed!" Muscles clenched in Sandhurst's jaw. "You are not changed?"
"I am betrothed to another man. That is what I must remember from now on."
He sighed harshly. "You've evaded my question, but I'll let it go for the moment. I have something to say to you and I will say it only once. Last night was much more than 'a mere interlude of pleasure' for me, and in spite of your protests, we both know the truth." Reaching out with his free hand, he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him.
Her heart thundering, Micheline stammered, "No—I—"