Sandra Madden (23 page)

"I pray you are right," she murmured,

Edmund brushed away her tears with the soft pad of his thumb. "I am."

His touch ignited a fire deep within her, yet she did not shrink from it. Instead, Kate reached out, lay-big her hand upon his cheek. The dark stubble of his beard felt rough and warm against her palm. Her thumb dipped to caress the cleft in his chin.

"Why did you come after me, Edmund?"

His gaze never wavered. Sparkling emerald pools edged with silver light locked on Kate's eyes. "I feared for you," he said quietly. "I should never have allowed you to leave Rose Hall alone."

"But I wasn't alone."

"I wasn't with you."

"Thanks be, you came."

His mouth curved up into a melting, seductive smile. "You are a headstrong wench," he teased in a husky timbre.

'Tis what happens to a girl when she grows up with a headstrong man."

Edmund closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. 'Twas as if he summoned courage. "I want you, Kate," he whispered. "God's death, I want you."

Kate's heart bolted.
Hey-ho!

Edmund wanted her!

In less than a bat of an eye, Kate came alive. Alive with the need to laugh and cry at once. She knew the Earl of Stamford could not love the gardener's daughter. He could not love her, but he could make love to her. He
wished
to make love to her.

And Kate wished to make love to him.

There would never be another time like this. The stars had presented an unexpected opportunity. Even Jutta had not seen it, had not predicted such an eve.

Oh, but fie, fie! The queen encouraged a virgin's life.

Alas! What to do?

Kate felt fairly certain the queen could never have felt like this. And this was a decision Kate could not ponder: to remain a virgin, or make a gift of her virginity to Edmund?

The queen and virginity lost.

Tonight Kate would love Edmund with all the love for him she'd stored and hidden away in her heart through endless years. He'd captured her child's heart and won the heart of the woman. She must be his. She was born to be his—if only for this night.

For this one night, she would go wherever fate led. It mattered not if she became the companion to a sick old woman in Scotland or three robust young boys in Manchester. Kate would have memories of her love, her only love, for the rest of her life. Memories that would offer far more comfort than her virginity would ever give her.

Mistaking her silence, Edmund apologized. "Kate, I did not mean to offend you."

"No. You have flattered me, Lord Stamford."

This time she knew who knocked when there was a rap on the chamber door.

"Go away, Mary," she said.

Edmund dipped his head. "Do you mean—?"

Kate could no more prevent the smile that spread across her face than she could stop a rainbow unfolding across the sky after a rain.

Edmund chuckled. The corners of his eyes crinkled as his mouth turned up into a knee-melting grin.

After a few moments of listening only to the pop and crackle of the fire, she heard Mary leave.

Kate rose, moving regally. The blanket, once wrapped around her, fell to deep folds at her feet. She moved toward Edmund.

His smoldering gaze slowly traveled the length of her body.

She shuddered.

"Are you cold, Kate?"

"No, my lord."

In the silence, she could hear each thudding beat of her heart.

Without a word, Edmund gathered her in his arms, lifting her, cradling her. He gently laid her down on the bed.

His gentleness was in contrast to the tumult Kate felt. The fire in her, the need for Edmund licked at her like flames at a wooden gate. She could not wait a moment longer to feel his body against hers. She had waited all her life.

"Edmund, quickly," she whispered, as he stood over her, regarding her with an expression she'd never seen on his face before. An awed reverence.

Tears filled her eyes, happiness bounced like a silken ball against the walls of her heart.

Edmund Wydville, the Earl of Stamford, had never been so thunderstruck in his life. Kate's reaction astonished him, rendered him dazed. Was it another man's loins that burned? Another man's heart that slammed against his chest again and again? His breathing had been reduced to labored gasps.

Edmund wanted Kate more than anything in his life—
a
realization that unnerved him, set his limbs to quaking. What if he should fail her? God's blood! He could never forgive himself.

Determined he should be the best of lovers, Edmund refused to respond to Kate's urgent entreaty by taking her quickly. He would make slow, gentle love to her, as she deserved. Devouring her body with his gaze, he silently vowed to give her a night of loving she would never forget. She was like the magnificent statue of a Roman goddess, molded by a genius to be perfect in all aspects.

Edmund's heart-pounding study drifted from the long, elegant column of Kate's neck to her full, high breasts. A translucent, delicate ivory, her breasts rose and fell in a promise of satin and passion. Edmund's gaze fell, lingering on Kate's small waist and well-rounded hips, and down to the soft curves of her legs. His mouth felt as dry as an old, brittle rush.

Feeling a peculiar unsteadiness in his knees, he sank to the bed beside the eager beauty. Summoning the strength to proceed slowly and with care, he closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, Edmund found Kate's gaze on his. She regarded him with a steady intensity. Her golden eyes shone with a luminous quality that stoked the building fire within him to uncontrollable heights.

No. He couldn't do this! He couldn't take an innocent girl... his oldest and dearest friend... He could not take Kate's virginity!

With a moan, Edmund started to roll off the bed, but Kate clutched his shirt.

"Prithee, Edmund, do not leave me now."

"You are an innocent, I cannot—"

"If anyone is to show me the ways of love, it must be you. Can you not see that?"

"Kate, you don't know how it pains me, I mean
pains
me, to—" He broke off, uncertain how to explain. "A man in the heat of desire experiences a great deal of pain."

"Then allow me to ease your pain, Edmund," she purred. "I know nothing can come of this night. Only that the one man I trust will initiate me in the ways of love."

"Kate, Kate..."

"You taught me to fish. You taught me to arch a bow—"

" ‘Tis not the same! Not the same at all."

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt. She splayed them softly against him and toyed with the hairs on his chest. God's blood, he could better resist an Irish army than Kate.

Edmund groaned. The fires of a passion he could not deny consumed him. His need for the gardener's daughter defeated his honorable intentions. He was lost. He surrendered.

A candle sputtered and died. Rain sprinkled against the windowpane.

Kate knew when Edmund's resistance died. She felt the corded muscles of his chest relax against her palms.

She tugged at his shirt, whispered urgently in the dimness. "Remove your shirt. Remove it, Edmund."

"Aye." His voice was hoarse and low, more a rumble. "Aye."

She heard the linen rip. Driven by instinct and unbridled desire, Kate nibbled his ear, his neck.
Mmmmhmmm.
She only hoped she would prove a satisfactory lover. She had no experience.

Grappling with his breeches, Edmund cursed under his breath.

Kate's heart pounded hard and fast. Her body moved to a strange new rhythm in her head. Any inhibitions she might have harbored were overcome in a flood of heat and the need to be one with Edmund.

Verily, he
was
her lord and master. He was the love of her life, the man who haunted her dreams ever since she could remember.
Mmmmhmmm.

Freed from his garments, Edmund at last turned and took Kate into his arms once more. She felt the hard strength of his desire against her thighs. As if in answer, a silky wetness flowed from deep within Kate.

She marveled at the sweet sensation.

Edmund's mouth came down on hers in a fierce, heart-searing kiss. Her breasts, crushed against his chest, swelled. The tips of her nipples grew taut. Alive and afire with exquisite passion, Kate thought she must cry out.

But just as she thought it, Edmund's tongue plunged into her mouth, withdrawing and plunging deeply again and again, until her body arched in astonishing pleasure and aching pain. His hands slid over her hips; his palms cupped her bottom.

She was going to die in Edmund's arms!

But then, when she accepted the inevitable, his lips left hers. He burned a trail of tingling, soft caresses down her neck and—
hey-ho!-
—to her breasts. Edmund's mouth covered her nipples. His tongue brushed softly against them, first one and then the other. The raging fire inside Kate reached new heights.

She gasped in pleasure.

He suckled her breasts.

The pleasure Edmund gave was such that Kate silently prayed she would live until the end of this eve.

And then, while he continued to suckle, his hand reached down between her legs.

Kate groaned.

"We can stop, Kate," Edmund whispered. "I can still stop."

"I will kill you, if you stop," she whispered back.

"You are a virgin—"

"Much much adooo..." she crooned, "about naught."

Before she swooned from the astonishing sensations, Edmund withdrew his hand. He sprinkled light kisses along her neck, and then he entered her with a gentle thrust, filling Kate with a wondrous, throbbing heat.

They were one!

"Pray God, don't take me now," Kate pleaded breathlessly.

Edmund thrust again, and Kate was lost. Each thrust became stronger, more insistent. Each movement lifted her higher. The moment of pain passed before she could cry out. Edmund's magnificent manhood bestowed Kate with the power to fly to the heavens, gave her the wings to meet whatever fate awaited her in the stars.

Her hips undulated wantonly, wildly. She reveled in Edmund, taking him deeper, ever deeper, inside of her. Moving as one, 'twas as if their bodies were made for each other.

A single shattering thrust of fire transported Kate soaring to the stars. At almost the same moment, in a final plunge, Edmund cried out, calling her name.

In a hazy state of pure rapture, she floated back to earth.

"Ooooh, Edmund. Hey-ho!"

Chapter Fifteen

Your trusting nature will not fail you

Kate fished. She loved with wicked abandon. She owned a spirit of adventure and was the merriest of companions. What more could a man desire?

Edmund thought Kate would make the ideal companion if she would only make peace with Percy and learn to play tennis.

Somewhat chastened by her experience with the highwaymen, the golden-eyed beauty had returned with him to Rose Hall over a week ago. He'd won her back, the fairest prize of any game he played.

With his hands folded beneath his head, Edmund reclined on a blanket spread in his tree-house castle. What the devil was keeping her? She'd promised to meet him in an hour's time.

Whistling softly, he regarded the thick emerald foliage above him, the hazy strip of sunlight slipping through a gap in the leaves. A patch of mottled blue-gray sky peeked through the minuscule opening.

Yesterday Edmund had allowed Kate to defeat him at archery; the night before she had won a game of chess without his help. In her company, he felt like a young man again, bursting with life and dreams, certain he could right all the ills of the world.

But how was he to make Kate his for all time? Marriage to a gardener's daughter was out of the question; yet he had taken her virtue, rendering her unsuitable for marriage to a man of means. Even the gentry expected a virgin bride. Besides, Edmund could not fathom the thought of giving up Kate, letting her go. She was his.

The only answer was to make her his mistress. But he could not contemplate offering such a proposition to the proud, independent creature, she'd have his head!

Somehow, he must find a way to be with her.

Where was she? Tardiness annoyed him mightily. As he supposed he had annoyed others in the past.

While Kate believed the highwaymen who attacked her coach on her way to her papa's wedding were part of a larger conspiracy, Edmund did not. He blamed the stargazer for planting outrageous thoughts in Kate's head. Nevertheless, he'd experienced a numbing terror as the blackguards assaulted his coach. The blood had frozen in his veins. He could still taste the fear. Until that moment, Edmund had not realized just how much Kate meant to him.

Since their return to Rose Hall, she had shown no signs of becoming ill from the ordeal. She might have taken her death traveling in the pouring rain, soaked to the skin until they reached the inn. Ah, the Red Fox Inn.

"Edmund!"

Memories of making love at the inn vanished at the sound of Kate's voice, the crunch of leaves and earth as she hurried toward his tree.

Edmund rose to his knees; any higher and his head would be knocked by a limb. "Up here."

For a woman, Kate climbed with great alacrity and grace. She also showed a great deal of trim ankle during the ascent. He could not envision Judith Witherspoon scaling an old oak.

Ah, Lady Judith. Another matter he must broach with Kate today.

"Good day, my lord." Kate's eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy.

Edmund's heart made a great vaulting leap against his chest. No one had ever looked at him so, with such a loving light. She made him truly feel like a man of legend, as if he were King Arthur incarnate. Edmund would do anything to ensure that Kate always regarded him with the same shining light of admiration.

Leaning over one of the remaining rails, he gave her his hand and pulled her up and into his arms.

"Oh, aye," he said, enfolding her into his arms. "I can see this will be a good day."

The faint, sensuous fragrance of lavender fired his ever-present desire for her. It did not matter they were on their knees; Edmund dipped his head and covered his mouth with hers.