Elizabeth had her maid take off her light summer dress and let down her hair. Sanders pulled a tiny section from either side of her face and braided it, then wrapped it around her head to hold the rest of her hair out of her face but still maintain the look of tumbling, riotous curls.

“Which nightgown, madam?” asked Sanders.

Elizabeth looked back and forth between the gowns, trying to decide between a soft rose and a deep blue.

“Which do you think will look better at sunset?” Elizabeth asked with a glance at the window.

“I think the rose, madam, but the blue would be best in moonlight.” Sanders had a light flush to her cheeks but was otherwise the picture of professionalism. Elizabeth couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled forth.

“I shall wear the rose, then.”

Dressed and brushed and recently bathed, Elizabeth stepped out onto the terrace and saw her husband sitting in the light, watching the sunset intently. She approached him quietly, sliding her hands around his shoulders and hugging his back as she leaned over and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Hello, darling,” he said lowly. Then he reached around and pulled her in front of him and into his lap before she could do more than gasp in surprise.

She instinctively hung onto his neck and cried out, “Fitzwilliam!”

Before she could say more he had covered her mouth with his and she responded as he wished her to, with fervor and hunger. He leaned over her, kissing her with relish before pulling back and settling himself into the chair so she was above him, all the while never releasing her lips.

She pressed her breasts into his chest and got as close as she could, her arms wrapping more tightly around his neck, one hand playing in his dark curls. Her legs had been over the side of his chair and as he moved, she was at an awkward angle. To steady herself, she went up on her knees, his head tipping back as she leaned over him, her hands coming to grip his jaw and wrap around to the back of his head. He ran his hands up the back of her leg, skating beneath the silk of her gown and ghosting over her thighs. He tried to nudge her legs apart and the movement made Elizabeth reach one knee to the other side of the chair so she was effectively straddling him, his form sinking lower as she towered over him.

He was so thrilled by this development he could hardly breathe, but he was thankful he had worn the looser breeches.