“Wherein something precious is stolen.”

That night was torture of a different kind. Gabriel lay in bed, so far from sleep there seemed little point in staying there. But he closed his eyes, pretending he was making the attempt, when really he was indulging in a fantasy. Not that he had thought of anything else all day, not since the moment she had ridden away, blowing him a kiss as she went.

In his mind, they were together again, Crecy laid out on the floor, her eyes on his, trusting in him as he gave her the first taste of the pleasure to be found between a man and a woman. It had been humbling, that trust in him. His body grew taut as it remembered the feel of her body beneath his hand, the soft sounds of her pleasure. Longing swept over him, such need that it overwhelmed him, terrified him. He knew that this was not simply desire, this was not simply an urge to satisfy a base, physical demand. It was about her and her alone. He wanted her with a yearning that threatened to overpower him. Yet he could not deny it, could not push it away or consign it to some dark corner of his mind. It was too strong.

He knew he could have taken everything, right there and then. He could have indulged his desire and she would not have stopped him. But he hadn’t. Gabriel refused to dwell on that, refused to study his reasoning. For surely, ruining one of Edward’s guests should give him pleasure. Knowing that someone staying under his roof, someone whose family Edward perhaps cared for, had been seduced by him … that should be a small triumph in this war they fought. But he couldn’t do that when she said his name and clung to him, giving herself into his hands.

Oh God, this was a madness all of its own.

Although he’d promised himself he would not, he began to imagine what lay beneath the gown she wore, imagined stripping each layer from her and laying her down on his bed, taking her body along with everything else she was offering him.

He groaned in the darkness, so hard it hurt. It had been a long time since he had reached to touch himself. Control over every aspect of his life was the only thing that kept him somewhere close to sane, and no part of his existence was unaffected by that compulsion. But this need was greater still, the burning for her too fierce to be ignored.

It didn’t take long, not after spending every moment since she’d left him aching and unsatisfied. He came so hard it shocked him, fear churning in his gut as he realised what power she had over him already. What wouldn’t he do to see her again?

Self-loathing washed over him, and he cleaned himself up with disgust. He was weak. A vile creature who had no business touching a young woman like Crecy, much less indulging in sick fantasies of what he wanted to do with her.

But she wants me, she cares for me.

The voice was faint, if hopeful, but he crushed it. There was no point in hoping for such things. She must have a reason for pursuing him, and sooner or later he would discover it. He’d be a fool to believe otherwise, for what in the name of God could she possibly see to care for when she looked at him?

Power? Money?

No.

No.

He would not believe that of her. It wasn’t true.

Despite everything, that fragile spark she had lit in his heart refused to be snuffed out, and Gabriel slept at last, dreaming of impossible things.

***

The next morning dragged so slowly, Gabriel thought he really might lose his mind for good. Every half hour found him in front of the large grandfather clock in the entrance hall, checking it against his own watch. This naturally drove him to check every clock in the damn house, even venturing into rooms he hadn’t set foot in for years, to wind and set clocks that had long since fallen silent. It passed the time, at least, he thought with an ironic laugh.

As it was, by one o’clock, he was so agitated that he could barely eat, forcing himself to finish his meal, driven by compulsion rather than hunger. By twenty past one, and with no other business to distract him, he could wait no longer, and rode out for Longwold, despite knowing she’d warned him that she would not get away before four, and that he would have a long wait in the freezing cold.

It was a strange feeling, riding through Edward’s land, trespassing. He wondered what the man would think if he knew Gabriel was so tangled in Crecy’s toils that he’d been driven to sneaking about in such a fashion. The old Gabriel would have flaunted such a conquest, rubbed his cousin’s nose in it. Yet he couldn’t do that to her.

So instead, he consigned himself to linger in the shadows; that, at least, he was used to, scanning the surrounding countryside and hoping she had understood where he meant to wait for her. Gabriel tethered Typhon, slipping the big horse a lump of sugar as reward for having to stand around in the cold for him. He stroked the creature’s heavy neck, realising he’d never before felt any real depth of affection for anyone or anything, other than Typhon. Not until now. And no matter how many times he told himself it was simply a natural masculine desire to get the woman into his bed, yesterday had proved that whatever it was he was feeling, it ran deeper than that.

Gabriel paced, the cold biting harder as the time passed. It was colder still in the shadows of the woods, but he felt conspicuous sitting in the sunshine, even knowing how unlikely it was that anyone but Crecy would come past. They would all be celebrating the day with their families - visiting church, eating together, exchanging gifts.

Heat crawled up his neck as he reached for the small parcel in his pocket, his gift to her. He had spent forever dithering over what to give her. His first instinct had been jewellery, something expensive and beautiful, but at short notice, all he had was his mother’s jewellery and for some reason, that didn’t sit well with him. When he gave her jewellery, it would be for her alone. Not something passed from a woman who had been so unhappy in life. The idea that this - whatever this was - would continue and he was thinking of buying her jewellery in the future was something he refused to dwell on. Instead, he wondered for the hundredth time if he had been foolish in his choice, if she would laugh at the idea. He wouldn’t blame her, but … but some instinct had guided him that it would be what she’d prefer.

It was four-thirty when he caught movement on the horizon, and he was startled by the way his heart seemed to leap in his chest. The sun was getting low, the day already growing gloomy, and he knew they would not have long. At least there was a clear sky and a full moon to help guide her home again.

Gabriel watched as she rode towards him, the horse galloping flat out and Crecy urging the creature on. He felt an unfamiliar surge of pride in her; she was quite a horsewoman, and utterly fearless. She’d have to be in order to spend time with him, after all. He felt the strangest desire to smile at the idea, an urge which only grew as she brought her horse to stand in front of him, launching herself from the saddle into his arms.

“Gabriel!” she cried, hugging him tightly.

Gabriel pulled her close, finding he couldn’t speak, not yet, he was too consumed by the feeling of her in his arms.

“I was afraid you would have gone,” she admitted as he looked down at her, taking in the flush in her cheeks, the sparkle in her lovely eyes. By God, but she was beautiful.

“I said I would wait for you.” He knew the words sounded gruff and ungracious, but she didn’t seem to care, reaching up and peppering his cheek with kisses.

“Thank you, thank you, dearest Gabriel,” she said, burying her face against his chest and holding tight. “I couldn’t bear to be another moment without seeing you.”

His breath caught despite his best efforts. How did she say things of that nature with such ease? Was it because it was untrue, perhaps, or was it simply like breathing to her, to give her feelings to another without a second thought?

Gabriel had the sudden desire to tell her that he had longed to see her, too, but he knew the words were beyond him. Instead, he swept her up into his arms, earning himself a startled shriek of laughter as he carried her, and then another kiss on his cheek as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Are you going to carry me away to your lair and eat me, Mr Wolf?” she said, her voice low and breathless in his ear.

Gabriel snorted. “Don’t tempt me,” he muttered, wondering if she had the slightest idea how close he was to doing just that.

“But I want to tempt you.” The words curled around him, sliding over his skin like a caress and making his body grow impossibly hard.

No. He would not take advantage of her in the freezing cold, on Winterbourne’s land, for the love of God. No. No matter how much he wanted her.

Instead, he carried her to the large stump of a felled tree and sat down, arranging her on his lap and luxuriating in the feel of her in his arms.

Crecy sighed, smiling down at him. “I so wished you were with me today,” she said, holding his face between her hands and stroking his cheeks. “The mummers came this morning, and it was the funniest thing, Gabriel. You would have laughed so. I think the dragon had been exceedingly well lubricated by the previous wassail cups,” she said, the delight in her eyes at telling him her tale quite visible. “He barely made it to the end of the performance. I think he passed out just at the moment he was supposed to be slain, the timing was impeccable.” She laughed, everything about her vivacious and alive and so full of joy. Being with her was like a kind of drug, a high which he could only reach in her presence. He had no idea how to do it by himself, but with her … he felt perhaps it was possible to … to know what it was to be happy.

“It sounds as though you had an enjoyable day,” he said, wishing there hadn’t been such obvious reproach in his voice. Why should she not have fun without him? God alone knew she’d not get it with him.

She paused, stroking his cheek again, staring into his eyes in a way that made him feel exposed, like his soul was laid out for her inspection. He closed his eyes, turning his face into her hand, and she sighed, pulling his head against her until it rested against her chest.

Gabriel could hear her heart beating beneath the softness of her breast, could feel her hands stroking his hair, and had the absurd desire to never want to move from this position again.

“I have thought of nothing but you since the moment I woke,” she said. “I even dreamed of you.” Her words were hypnotic, drawing him further under her spell even as the dark voice in his head scoffed at the idea, refusing to believe she could be as desperate for him as he was for her. “I could think of nothing else but how it felt to be with you, of how it felt when you touched me.”

“Stop it,” he said, his voice harsh as he pulled away from her with regret, but God in heaven, didn’t she know what she was doing to him?

“But it’s true,” she insisted, her lovely face frowning now as she spoke. “I … I have barely been able to concentrate on a thing, and …” He looked up with interest now, aware that she was blushing deeply.

“And?” he pressed, feeling rather breathless all of a sudden, needing to know if she felt as frenzied and out of control as he did, wanting to hear the words so badly that he wanted to shake them from her.

“And … I ache, Gabriel,” she whispered, the words hesitant as he held his breath, the strangest sensation burning in his chest, expanding and filling him up as desire leapt like a flame beneath his skin. “I feel … impatient and…” She stopped again, and he looked up at her, seeing the confusion in her eyes, the desire to explain it to him. “It’s like …”

He felt like he might die of impatience himself, waiting for the words to come. “It’s like…?” he repeated, his voice rough and sounding rather desperate now, as something that might have been joy unfurled in the barren landscape of his heart.

“Like I need you, need to touch you to … to be whole again,” she said, the words raw and honest and the greatest gift that anyone had ever given him.

“Yes,” he said, the word every bit as raw as her own, wrenched from him before he could consider the implications. “Yes, exactly that.”

He kissed her, then, and she met him with all the passion he had heard in her words, clutching at him, wanting them to be closer than the cold and too many layers of clothes would allow for. Sanity of a kind reasserted itself before Gabriel was too lost in desire to think about the fact that it would soon be dark and that she was shivering with the cold already.

“You’re freezing,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around her.

“No,” she objected, putting it back over his shoulders, but then burying beneath the folds of it. “I’m not cold,” she objected as he raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’re shivering.”

“Not from the cold,” she said with a rather devilish smile.

Gabriel groaned, the situation not helped as she wriggled on his lap, trying to get closer to him. “Crecy, sit still, you little wretch, you’re killing me.”

Her laughter was a delighted and rather naughty sound that made his heart lift, and he felt suddenly absurdly happy. She had laid her head on his shoulder now, her bonnet long since abandoned and her curls tickling his neck. One arm was behind his back, under his coat, and the other toyed with the buttons on his waistcoat.

“I’ll come early tomorrow,” she said, and he turned his attention from her fingers on his chest and back to her face.

“You will?” he asked, anticipation at seeing her again so soon making him quite unable to disguise his impatience.

She nodded, smiling. “I’ll spend the day with you. I can pretend I went too far and got lost. It wouldn’t be the first time,” she added with a chuckle.

“You got lost?” he demanded, the idea of her riding these hills in the dark and freezing temperatures of the night clutching at his heart and making terror roll over him. “When?”

Crecy paused, apparently aware of his concern from the warmth that lit her eyes. “The first time I came to you,” she said, her voice soothing. “Don’t worry, I know my way now. It won’t happen again.”

Gabriel looked up and noticed with regret that the sun was sinking fast now.

“You must go,” he said, though it was the last thing he wanted. He would have stayed with her here, in the cold and the dark all night if he could, and wasn’t that just bloody ridiculous?

“I’m not going yet,” she said, shaking her head and looking rather defiant.

“Oh?” he growled, torn between delight that perhaps she didn’t want to leave him, either, and the desire for her to get home to Longwold before darkness fell.

She pouted at him, and he gasped as a cold hand slid inside his shirt. He glanced down, realising that she had undone the buttons on his waistcoat while they were talking and found the gap in his shirt to slide her hand though.

“Crecy,” he said, his breathing uneven as her fingers slid over his chest and found his nipple. She caressed it and then gave it an experimental little pinch, rather like he had done to her. “Don’t!” He snatched her hand away, regretting the anger of his outburst as she jumped in shock, but he was terrified that his self-control would not last much longer. “You can’t tease me like that,” he said, trying to keep the words from sounding so harsh. “Not unless you want to find yourself on the frozen ground with your skirts around your neck.” The words were crude, perhaps, but he needed her to be aware of what she toyed with, yet when he looked up, all he could see was a blazing desire that matched his own.

“Oh God.”

He got to his feet, letting her slide from his lap.

“Go home,” he instructed, dragging a shaky hand through his hair and wondering what would happen tomorrow if they really were to spend the day together. He didn’t think he could take much more of this torment.

“No, not yet,” she said, stubborn little devil that she was.

“Why not?” he demanded, unable to resist as her hands slid around him once more.

“Because you promised me a Christmas present,” she said, putting on a sulky tone and looking up at him with big eyes.

He snorted, refusing to consider how it made him feel to have someone to tease him, to play these ridiculous games. “So I did.” He felt nervous again, wondering if he should have brought jewellery after all, something expensive. That’s what women expected, after all. Wasn’t it?

“Well?” she demanded. “If you don’t give it to me, I shall have to search you. I know you’ve brought me something.” True to her word, her hands began to roam over him, dipping into pockets and tickling him as they went. Gabriel gave a bark of startled laughter as her hand deliberately quested under his armpit and he picked her up, dumping her a foot away from him and holding one hand out to stop her.

“Behave,” he warned, scowling at her, though, somehow, it was an effort to do so now. “I’ll only give it to you if you keep still.”

Crecy folded her arms with a huff, but did as he commanded, and Gabriel reached into his pocket. He withdrew the little parcel, suddenly plagued with doubt.

“It … it isn’t much, I mean …” Before he could say anything further, she had snatched it from his hands with a delighted whoop and begun to undo it.

Gabriel stilled as she looked inside, waiting for her to scowl and look up at him with an indignant expression at the admittedly whimsical gift.

Instead, she beamed at him, eyes glittering a little too brightly as she held the lock of his black hair to her lips and kissed it.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and then ran to him, wrapping her arms around him again.

“I should have given you jewellery, something pretty,” he said, his voice gruff and laced with regret, but she shook her head.

“I wouldn’t have been able to wear it,” she said, with no trace of condemnation, though he winced inwardly as the reason for that was obvious. “But this …” She looked up at him and gave him a smile that hit him square in the chest. “I shall keep this close to my heart.” Good as her word, she undid her pelisse, and Gabriel watched with his heart thundering in his ears as she tucked it beneath the bodice of her gown, against her breast.

Gabriel hauled her back to him again, wanting nothing more but to slip his hand under her gown and hunt for his gift again. It took every bit of his iron self-control to stop it from happening.

He let her go, savouring her sigh of content and the dreamy look in her eyes as she smiled up at him.

“Lovely,” she whispered. “I shall sleep with it right where I put it, you know,” she added, an amused lilt to her voice that implied she well knew she was tormenting him.

Gabriel groaned, burying his face in her hair. “Don’t push your luck,” he grumbled as she chuckled. He busied himself with doing up her buttons, trying to keep his thoughts from the warm place his gift had been hidden.

“Gabriel,” she said, her voice soft as she watched him trace a finger over each button in turn, checking it was fastened properly. “I have a confession to make.” Though good sense told him she was still teasing, the words made his blood run cold. He looked up, regarding her with his heart thudding again, but this time it was a sickening feeling.

“Oh?” The word was hard and suspicious, and covered up the terror that was rolling over him, but Crecy only nodded.

“Yes,” she said, amusement lingering in her eyes. “I’m afraid I stole something from you?”

Gabriel let go of a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding. He didn’t care what she’d taken, she could have anything she liked. Anything.

He reached down, his fingers grasping her chin, trying to keep his expression grave, and failing, too relieved that it was only theft and nothing that would hurt him. “Oh? And what was that, my little villain?”

“A black velvet ribbon.” She tugged at his hair, grinning at him. “I stole it from you the first time we ever met. Do you remember, by the lake?”

For a moment, he struggled to recall it, that strange child and this extraordinary young woman had seemed separate things in his mind. It was bizarre to think that it was really the same girl. “I remember,” he said, wondering at how different he sounded when he spoke to her now.

“I’ve kept it with me always. It’s my bookmark,” she admitted, blushing a little.

Gabriel found there were no words he could say, and, at a loss, simply pressed his lips to hers once more.

“Go home, little thief,” he said with his forehead pressed against her. The words were still gruff, but far softer than anything he’d said before. “I’ll be waiting for you to return.”