Free Redemption of a Fallen Woman by Joanna Fulford Page A

further reply. She listened intently, but after a few minutes heard only the soft sound of rhythmic breathing. Slowly she let herself relax a little, hardly able to credit that he really didn’t intend to make any demands on her. The thought occurred then that he might not wish to; he had not chosen her any more than she had chosen him. Yet his boldness in undressing before her suggested a man quite at ease with women and with his own body. Tears prickled behind her eyelids and she swallowed hard, wondering if she would ever feel at ease with her own body again.
    * * *
    Harry stared into the darkness, trying not to think about the semi-naked beauty just inches away. Temptation whispered in his head that she was his wife now. All he had to do was claim what was already his. The thought sent a wave of heat to his loins. Determinedly he ignored it. Elena was his in name only and he could hardly suppose she would welcome intimacy with him. He had not missed her unease or her embarrassment just now. The use of force was out of the question. No man worthy of the name would use his strength in that way. Besides, there was the matter of Badajoz to take into account.
    It still informed his nightmares on occasion. What would be her response on discovering that he had been one of that infamous army? He had not taken any part in the violence, but he had been a British soldier nonetheless. Would she make any distinction between him and the men who killed her father? And if she knew how he had failed Belén what would be her reaction then? Would she ever wish to give herself to such a man?
    He took a deep breath. It was too early even to think of those things. To do so was to be disloyal as well as unreliable. Belén’s image was still vivid, the ache of loss still present. It was wrong to think lustfully of another woman. He and Elena needed time to talk, to get to know each other better. At some point, when the time was right, he would tell her about Badajoz, and about Belén. Then they would decide where they wanted to go from there. In the interim he needed to focus on the reason for coming to Spain in the first place.

Chapter Seven
    F or a second or two after Elena woke the next morning she couldn’t remember where she was. Then, gradually, the details came back. Turning her head she looked for the man who had lain beside her last night but the bed was empty. She pushed herself up on one elbow and looked around. Her gaze fell on the tall figure a few feet away by the washstand. He was dressed now in shirt, breeches and boots and was currently shaving. Glancing her way he smiled.
    ‘Good morning. I trust you slept well.’
    ‘I... Yes, thank you.’ In fact, it had taken her a long time to fall asleep last night but she wasn’t about to say so. ‘What time is it?’
    ‘A little before seven.’
    Elena began to feel guilty. ‘You should have woken me before. I know you wanted to be away early.’
    ‘An hour or so will make little difference. Besides, you looked so peaceful I didn’t like to disturb you.’
    Had he been watching her, then? The thought brought warm colour to her face. The knowledge that she was going to have to get up and dress in front of him did nothing for her equilibrium. Although she was still wearing her shirt the fabric only reached the tops of her thighs revealing everything else. She bit her lip. Fortunately Harry turned away and resumed his task so Elena seized her chance. Sliding out of bed she hurried across the room to find her breeches. They were still in the middle of the floor where she’d left them last night. Hurriedly she grabbed them and began to pull them on. Once she darted a look towards Harry but he seemed oblivious. Breathing a sigh of relief she continued her task. Feeling slightly less vulnerable now she pulled on her boots and began to rummage in her saddlebag for a comb. Her hair must resemble a bird’s nest by now. Sinking on to the chair nearby, she turned her attention to