This Ravished Rose Page 4

  He said, “Let us say that I, too, seek diversion.” The fire stabbed at them both then and Katherine saw he was fiercely aware of her. However, he did not give her a chance to speak.

  “You angered me unreasonably there on the street, Kate.” His voice was warmer now that she was safely identified with a name, however false. “I count myself a sensible man and so I seek to know the reason for this. Your eyes, your bearing, they are not of common stock.”

  “No, my lord.” Katherine saw that his eyes were darker now and that a pulse hammered in his temple.

  “By all the gods, do you feel this thing?” He put his hand on hers and she returned the pressure. His tongue flicked over his lips and she felt a growing wetness between her legs. The world seemed to darken until they two remained in a circle of light.

  Katherine could not deny her feelings for this man who was a stranger. She did not try; for this time she would be ruled by her body which had longed throughout all the nights and days. “Aye, Jamie, I feel it. Now and before.”

  His eyes widened as if he wondered at her honesty. He rose from the table and took her hand. “Come, then. There is a room here where we may be undisturbed.”

  The room was small and none too clean but fresh, sweet air came from the high window and they could hear the sound of bells in the distance. Jamie put his cloak over the bed and held out his hand to Katherine. She hesitated, suddenly fearful.

  “Come, Kate, let me taste your sweetness.” His words were soft, his eyes intent on her face. “I have thought of you in the nights.”

  “I . . .” She took a step toward him, feeling the hammering of her heart in the silence.

  He folded her in his arms and held her gently. “Do not be afraid.” They stood body to body, mouths locked, tongues drinking of each other as her arms went around his shoulders and she pulled him closer. His mouth left hers and trailed little kisses over her ears and throat. She lifted one hand and moved it though the crisp wheaten hair even as he lingered on the pulse at her temple. Her body was beginning to flame and she saw the response in his.

  Her breath seemed to stop as she went to him again in mounting hunger and he drew her down to the bed. Their mouths met and fused in long, lingering kisses. He parted the folds of her gown and touched her hardened nipples, then spread both hands over the fullness of her breasts. Katherine arched toward him even as his hands seemed to burn her flesh. She felt almost dragged with desire and saw it reflected in the brilliant eyes above her. His mouth left hers and went to her nipples, then rose again in a kiss to her throat. He started to slip the gown from her shoulders and she drew back.

  “What is it, Kate?” His voice had the harshness of emotion in it but she saw that he held back for her sake.

  She blurted, “I am afraid. I cannot help it!”

  He smiled and pulled her down beside him in a curiously comforting gesture. “You are virgin. My bold lady of the inn and the marketplace. I should have known you for innocent.” He pushed back his already opened shirt and she saw the line of an old scar on his muscular side. The shadow that had lain behind his eyes was gone and they were clear. One side of his mobile mouth curved upward as he looked at her.

  Katherine felt the hammer of desire once more as she raised her eyes to his. “I did not mislead you.” She put her hand on his and warmed to the instant clasp of his fingers.

  “Will you let me teach you, sweet?” His warm breath tickled the soft hair at her neck and she felt the chills move slowly over her back.

  She could not look at him as she said, “Aye, I will.” Time shifted and melted for Katherine after that. She forgot all else but the gentle, possessing body that moved over her to cause ripples of excitement, a mounting hunger, then a sharp pain that brought tears to her eyes. They lay warmly wound together, sweat mingling, mouths touching. Jamie was breathing heavily, his long smooth body quivering slightly. Katherine looked at the line of his jaw, his flat stomach, the growing thrust of his manhood that had brought pain and the beginning of pleasure. She shut her eyes hastily, lest he see her watching, for she felt oddly different now, both timid and yet proud. They were feelings she did not yet want to explore.

  Jamie’s warm hands began to explore her rosy nipples and his mouth found hers again. She felt him move against her and knew that he was holding himself back so as not to frighten her. She lay in his arms, his body covering the length of hers, and looked into the gray eyes so close to hers. She thought she could drown in this emotion and felt her very being shake. His fingers traversed her stomach and breasts, his light kisses following. She put her arms around his shoulders and gave herself to the feelings he aroused.

  It seemed to Katherine that she burned and froze, lifted and fell. His hand was on her legs, he drew them apart and thrust himself slowly once more into her wetness. This time it did not hurt and she welcomed him. She called his name in a transport of golden desire as they rose to meet each other.

  “Margaret!” The name cried in a passion of longing penetrated her haze and for a second she lay cold and desolate. Then the long, deep thrusting began and his mouth locked with hers as their bodies began to move in slow rhythm, then moved to a greater intensity. Katherine forgot all else as the power rose, the world became one great hammering wanting. She rose fiercely with it, swayed, and exploded even as Jamie held her so tightly that his heart beat with hers.

  They lay together once more, male joined to female in dear closeness, mouths touching, and sleep came upon them.

  Chapter 5

  A Wench Called Kate

  “How now, wench, will you sleep all the day long? I have a great hunger and thirst!”

  The laughter-threaded voice woke Katherine from what seemed to be the deepest sleep she had ever known. She opened her eyes and looked into those of Jamie even as she stretched lazily. His eyes moved down her body and he lifted one white breast in his hand.

  “You are fair, Kate.” She trembled with longing and embarrassment.

  “And you, my lord, are passing handsome.” Her shy laughter mingled with his own.

  “But love must not interfere with food.” He sat on the edge of the bed and groped for his mantle.

  “You are right, of course.”

  “Of course.” He caught her wrist and pulled her to him. She resisted at first, then came so suddenly that they both fell off balance and tumbled to the floor. They wrestled lightly for a few minutes, laughing as children might. Then his eyes went dark and his mouth came down on hers which opened eagerly to receive him.

  This time they caressed every inch of each other’s bodies with tongues and fingers. Each movement seemed weighted with honey, slow and deliberate. Fire shot through Katherine’s flesh as his fingers worked sensuously over it. His face was years younger, his mouth softer, as they moved together in the now delicate orchestration of love.

  His arms cradled her as she lay, compliant and slender, within their circle. Their mouths drank once more of each other, her breasts rose and throbbed against his hammering heart. He slid between her legs and into the lush warmth there. Jamie murmured something inarticulate, Katherine arched against him as her body seemed to melt down. Again and again he moved into her and out again. With each removal she felt her body call out for him. Her hand reached out to touch him but he guided it upward even as the final stroke brought them both into a glory of satiation.

  Jamie put his face into her neck and she put her arms around him. Neither slept but they felt as if they might never move again so complete was their surrender to each other. The sweat dried on their bodies and their hearts slowed. Katherine drifted in a sweet sea, her world bounded by this arrogant, passionate man whom she was just beginning to know that she loved.

  “Kate, I am still hungry.” His voice was soft, his breath stirred the tendrils of hair at the nape of her neck.

  Katherine realized that she was starving. She had eaten no breakfast, taken only a small cup of ale. That seemed another life, this was all that mattered now. “I, too, Ja
mie.” Her words were light but his sudden stillness made her look up. “What is it?”

  He smiled ruefully. “Nothing for you to concern yourself about, sweet wench. I did but hear an echo. Come, let us dress and assail yon landlord’s larder!” Jamie and Katherine gorged themselves in a dark corner of the aleroom which was deserted at this time of day. There was freshly baked bread, a capon, meat pies and sweet cakes. The wine was fresh and cool, reminding Katherine suddenly of his touch on her body in the first moments.

  He stood up and she saw that he had left off his rings. His mantle was turned so that the richness of his clothes was partially obscured. Katherine let her eyes linger on him in feasting.

  “Come, Kate, let us go into the streets. It is long since I wandered there with a pretty maid.” He touched her face and she shivered with response. The gray eyes softened and he kissed her gently before putting her from him.

  The next few hours were delight in another form. They tramped the lively streets, pausing at various stalls to admire cloth, gold, ribbons and laces. Katherine had a pang at the thought of the waiting Helena but she knew that Lady Dorotea rested long in the afternoons. She would be back long before she rose. They stopped to admire a company of tumblers and jugglers, laughed immoderately at a goodwife berating her husband for all to hear, paused to stare at a worthy bishop and his procession as it wound its way toward the Minster, and then bickered happily with a merchant over a green ring the very color of Katherine’s eyes.

  “It is her color, sir, love’s own shade, and one can plainly see how it is with you.”

  Jamie laughed. “Who are we to resist the god of love?” He put several coins into the merchant’s hand, leaving him gasping at the amount. Then he took Katherine’s hand and slid the bauble on her finger. “A small token of the esteem in which I hold you, Kate.” The world moved back and once again they stood in a golden wash of pleasure. Katherine’s mouth went dry and she could not speak but he understood as he smiled at her in the completeness of their union.

  It was that sense of completion that caused Katherine to ask her question as they moved along. “Jamie, who was Margaret? You called her name as we lay together.” She was still new to passion and her face flamed scarlet.

  He stopped instantly and faced her, his eyes glittering and voice icy. “I know that your experience is not overly great, Kate, but there are questions not to be asked. Such as you cannot know of fair, betraying ladies.” A passer-by turned to look at them curiously and he lowered his voice. “No questions, do you understand me?” He was once again the arrogant lord of their first meeting.

  Had she not been bemused by love, Katherine might have taken offense at his words and tone, but as it was she said, “I did not mean to offend, Jamie.”

  More softly, he said, “I know.” They walked on but the air was cooler between them for all that he held her arm possessively and guided her over the rough street.

  The bright morning had given way to mid-afternoon and Katherine knew that soon she must go. The thought of a parting made her want to weep but she knew that she must not do so. They were moving more slowly now and people were surging past them in the opposite direction, their faces expectant. Jamie suddenly looked up at the sun and cursed.

  “What is it?” Katherine was alarmed by the closed look that came over his face.

  He bent to her, his wheaten hair stirred by the little wind. “I fear that I must go, Kate. Where might I find you again? I am not free on the morrow nor yet the next day but on the one after that I will seek you out. What of the ribbon stall by the storyteller? We can visit the inn again.”

  Katherine let the thought flicker through her mind that he treated her casually as any doxy. Next it would be gowns and gold pieces. The romances were full of women abandoned by a satiated lover. But she knew that she did not care. One day, twenty, or all the years did not matter so long as this man held her in his arms. All life came down to him.

  “Aye, I can be there, Jamie.” Her caring burned in the brilliant eyes and the pulse at her throat beat rapidly.

  He took her hands in his. “Farewell, sweet wench.”

  “Until we meet, dear lord.” Katherine looked into his eyes, then turned away for she could not bear to see him leave her.

  Jamie turned her face to him. “You have given me unbearable sweetness, Kate, and have not unduly tormented me with questions. I had forgotten that such women existed.” His tone hardened and trailed off. “When next I see you we will speak of your circumstances, a discreet house in a quiet street. . . think on it.” He kissed her lips and strode away into the thickening crowd.

  Katherine drifted with it for she had no will of her own. Her world had seemed complete with him at her side, now she was bereft. He wanted her for his mistress, she the proud daughter of the Hartleys who had fought with William the Conqueror. All of pride and honor rebelled; her senses cried out for love and the sweet friendship that she had seen this man offer. What of Lady Dorotea and her kindness? Would she abandon that to become a plaything, a bawd?

  She stumbled and almost fell. As she righted herself she saw that the streets were filled with people and the press grew greater with each minute. The breeze touched her face, taking away some of the heat. Women carried flowers in their arms, others marshaled children ahead of them, and old men stood by. She tried to push through the ranks but it was too difficult. It was not worth the struggle; she stood with the others. Her head was beginning to ache with the decision she must make.

  There was the sudden blast of a trumpet, a quick chorus of song and the clatter of hooves was heard in the distance. Prolonged, loud cheering began in the next street. A man dressed in rough homespun lifted a small child to his shoulder, saying, “Look well, lad, so that you may remember.”

  Katherine leaned toward him, shifting her weight against the growing press. “What is happening, sir? Who comes?”

  Several voices called out, “It is he! At last! The Lord Richard comes!”

  “And who might he be? We are newly come to the city and do not know the local lord.” She hardly cared but anything was better than her thoughts just now.

  There was no time to answer in the resulting shout of laughter which was almost instantly stilled as the trumpet blasts came shivering at them. Several richly dressed horsemen rode by abreast. Directly behind them rode a slender brown-haired young man in his late twenties. He alone was soberly dressed. His expression was grave but there was a hint of a smile in the firm lips. Katherine was close enough to see that the hooded eyes were brilliant with pleasure at the cheers of welcome. His horse shied at the avalanche of flowers and he lifted a hand in acknowledgement before passing on. The Minster bells began to peal in joyous sound and the people cried the louder.

  The rest of the entourage thundered past now and Katherine lifting her eyes, suddenly saw Jamie, his resplendent ermine and velvet cloak now fully displayed, riding a great black horse. He swept by without a downward look and she shivered. He must indeed be a great lord, no wonder he had had to rush away.

  The man near Katherine deposited his son on the ground and said proudly, “Yon lord is Richard of Gloucester, lady, brother to our King and good friend to York. He greatly honors us here for three days before departing to fight the Scots once more.”

  “He seems much loved here.”

  Those around her laughed and even Katherine could not hide her smile at the understatement. “Aye, you might say that,” observed a merchant and his neighbors cheered their agreement.

  In a flash of bitterness Katherine wondered at these Plantagenets who could win such devotion and yet be so vindictive toward their enemies. Devil’s spawn who had blighted her life and prospects! She was glad that she had not cried out in adulation.

  Katherine went back to Randle Hall with Helena full of explanations of the procession, becoming lost and then just wandering about the city. A thin story but Lady Dorotea knew her adventuresome spirits. It was not needed, however, for a message had been waiting for h
er when she woke from her rest an hour past and she had not yet emerged from her room. Katherine barely had time to wash her flushed face and change into a thin white gown before the summons came.

  Lady Dorotea looked paler than Katherine had ever seen her and her cough was more pronounced. She said, “We are bidden to the castle tomorrow night, there to be received of Gloucester and his lady, and to participate in the welcoming ceremony the city will give him. I had earlier planned to make your presence known here, introduce you as my ward from the country after first grooming you well, and let events take their course. I have lived a recluse as I wished but now I fear we must proceed otherwise.”

  “What are you saying, Lady? Surely the invitation can be refused on ground of your health. How should the daughter of my father fare at the hands of the King’s brother? I certainly cannot go.” Katherine was shaking from reaction.

  “That is just it, Katherine. This is well nigh a royal command and it refers to the young woman whom I protect. Someone knows of your birth. Gloucester is primarily a soldier, blunt and direct, his interests are far from court feuds. I think you need not fear but we must be discreet.”

  “But surely we cannot compromise your health.” Lady Dorotea rose from her chair and began to pace, her labored breathing loud in the room. “I will not live much longer.” She held up a hand to still Katherine’s protests. “The time has come, Katherine Hartley. The truth must be faced. You must have a husband to protect you and that right swiftly. No woman can stand alone.”

  “I will try!” The girl rose quickly and her voice lifted in anger. The gentle net of the past few weeks lay in shreds as the implacable old eyes stared her down.

  “I am old and know life’s uncertainties. A king’s whim, an unguarded whisper ..She paused, watching the mobile face before her.

  Lady Dorotea, savoring her own dearly bought freedom, knew that she must not sympathize. “I, too, thought there was much I could not bear. I was given no choice of husband. My father commanded and I obeyed.” She shuddered, remembering rough hands and tears in the night. “You will have a choice at least. You know I speak truly.”