Hélène walked to the middle of the room and looked about her. The walls had been covered in pale grey silk, and the hangings were of a deep rose pink; not what she would have chosen but inoffensive enough. The room was comfortably furnished with a large bed, dressing table, wardrobe and chest of drawers. Two easy chairs stood on either side of the wide fireplace, in which a fire was already laid, simply awaiting a match. At one end of the room was another door, leading to a cabinet furnished for her ablutions, and beside it was yet another door, but when she tried the handle, thinking it a further closet, Hélène found it was locked. She looked questioningly at Simon and asked, ‘Why is this cupboard locked?’

‘It’s not a cupboard, my dear, it’s the door that leads to my bedchamber, the next room. When I come to your bed, I will simply unlock it and walk through.’ He reached for her hand and said, ‘Nothing could be more convenient.’

‘And where is my key?’

‘Your key?’ His voice hardened. ‘Why would you need a key? You won’t be coming to my chamber… unless I tell you to, in which case I will unlock the door for you.’

‘But…’ faltered Hélène.

‘But what?’ His grip tightened on her hand. ‘Are you suggesting that there might be occasions when you’ll be unwilling to receive your husband as you should?’ He looked at her sardonically. ‘Surely not! I’m certain your mother has explained that a husband has his needs… and it is up to you to satisfy them.’ He grasped her other wrist and pulled her to him, making her cry out.

‘Simon! Stop! Let go! You’re hurting me.’ Hélène tried to jerk her hands free, but he held them fast.

‘Stop?’ he teased. ‘My dear girl, I haven’t started yet.’ There was something in his voice, a tone, a roughness that triggered a memory and made her shudder.

‘I just thought,’ he went on, ‘that you might like a little foretaste of what will happen when I come to visit you on our wedding night.’ He spoke mildly, as if explaining to a child. ‘Just so that you understand what I expect of you.’

He was too strong for her, and despite her efforts to break away, he pulled her closely against him. She could feel the length of his body leaning against hers, something hard pressing against her stomach. His breath was hot on her face, but she felt an icy chill as further memories slid into her mind. ‘Don’t!’ she cried. ‘Don’t! Leave me alone.’

It was a strangled cry, but Simon took no notice of her distress, simply lowering his head and kissing her long and hard, his tongue probing her mouth. She almost gagged as she tried to curl her own tongue away so that it didn’t touch his. Still she had the taste of him in her mouth and it almost made her sick. Even when at last he raised his head, she could not break free, his body pressing on hers as he edged her into a corner of the room, trapping her against the wall. She struggled, still trying to pull away, and seeing the fear in her eyes, he gave a soft laugh. Fear in a woman’s eyes had always been an aphrodisiac to him and it was no less so now that this woman he wanted would soon be his wife… to do with as he chose; such anticipation was exciting.