The Walled Garden by F. M. Parkinson

Author:F. M. Parkinson [King]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Becoming aware that they were standing in a darkening room, Hillier glanced out of the window, seeing that outside the evening light was rapidly fading. He remembered that it had already been late when he had left his study to walk through the grounds in the hope that Ashton might have retreated here. How long ago that seemed, and as if it were another world.

Abruptly returning to commonplace reality, he realised that the evening meal would be awaiting them and that their non-appearance would cause needless inconvenience to his servants. He had never been deliberately inconsiderate in the past, and could not bring himself to be so now even though he desperately wished for no-one's company but Ashton's.

"No," he replied to Ashton's question, "I cannot stay at present. Much as I should prefer to. Neither of us can. But I should like to ... " he moved away from the window " ... enjoy your company ... later this evening. If you have no objection," he added, suddenly unsure of himself.

It was now quite dark in the cottage, the lamp still being unlit from when Ashton had abandoned it after Hillier's arrival. A passer-by would have said that the dwelling lacked occupancy, if he had bothered to take much notice. In the gloom, Ashton stepped forward to where Hillier stood and grasped his shoulders for a moment before slipping his arms around him in an embrace, held him close so that their bodies were almost but not quite touching. Hillier met his gaze steadily, even though Ashton could feel the fine trembling of the body beneath his hands.

"What is it?" said the former gardener softly. "Would you rather I did not do this?" Even now he could not bring himself to believe that Hillier would welcome or even accept his advances, and was prepared for the other man's rejection.

Hillier laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers of desire sparking through Ashton's body, feeding the growing fire in his groin and he wished in some perverse way that he had not moved so impulsively to hold the man. He could just make out the lawyer's features in the darkness, the eyes that glinted at him, before Hillier moved to rest against the broad frame of his companion, and held him close, their bodies pressed together, each man aware of the other's need and longing. Ashton fought the fierce desire to break Hillier's fragile control there and then, only knowing that out of love for the man he must let him make his own voyage of discovery, that the experience was a new one for the lawyer, that his two marriages would have given Hillier not the faintest notion of what Ashton could and would do with him, the passion that could be unleashed within him.

Hillier was speaking to him, murmuring his name, his fingers fiercely gripping Ashton's clothing. "Oh, Will," he sighed, "what does it take to convince you?"

"You were trembling," Ashton reminded him with soft accusation. "I was afraid -"

"With longing, Will, not fear," came Hillier's throaty reply.

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