Lost Love Found (71 page)

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Authors: Bertrice Small

Tags: #Romance, #Historical, #Historical Romance

BOOK: Lost Love Found
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“Beddings are for first marriages,” Valentina said primly.

“Nonsense, Val! Besides, this
is
my first marriage,” he told her, his arms about her waist drawing her against him. “My only marriage.” His lips moved softly along her bare neck, sending tiny shivers down her spine.

“My lord!” She pushed his arms away.

“I shall need an hour,” she said, moving toward the door.

“Half an hour,” he bargained.

“Padraic, I need time to bathe, to get out of all this finery. Nan and Nelda have to get everything put away and then—”

“I surrender, madam!” he cried, laughing. “But be warned that with each passing minute my desire for you will grow and grow, and ’tis you who must quench my fires, Val.”

For an instant her eyes looked troubled. Then she curtsied and hurried away up the staircase.

Lord Burke remained in the hall for a final goblet of wine, sending a servant to tell his own body servant, Plumgut, to prepare a bath for him as soon as possible.

Nan and her daughter were waiting patiently for their mistress. Neither was unhappy about making her home at Clearfields. They chatted excitedly as they undressed Valentina, putting her clothing neatly away and settling her in a scented tub that perfumed the entire room with lily of the valley.

“A new house, a new start,” said the practical Nan.

“And new men to flirt with, Ma!” teased Nelda. “Ain’t you in the market for a new husband yet?”

“And what do I need another husband for, girl? Yer pa was more than enough husband for me! Besides, I’m too old to break another stallion to my harness now.” She swatted the giggling Nelda, then went to put Valentina’s jewelry away.

“I know that my lord has only a few permanent servants at Clearfields, Nan,” Valentina said thoughtfully when Nan returned. “There’s the bailiff and two elderly house servants who will no doubt welcome a secure retirement to snug cottages. Do you think you would like to be the housekeeper at Clearfields, Nan?”

Nan almost dropped her mistress’s night rail in her surprise and excitement. “Me?” she gasped. “The housekeeper at Clearfields? Oh, m’lady! Aye! I should indeed like it!”

“Can you do it? My husband will want to be certain that you are competent before he gives me his permission. It is unlikely that we will ever entertain royalty, Nan, but I do intend offering hospitality whenever I can, and I want Clearfields to become a great house in every sense.”

Nan drew herself up, her most dignified self. “I’ve been in this house since yer mother, bless her, brought us both back from Ireland all those years ago, m’lady. I was yer wet nurse, then as you grew I learned how to be a proper tiring woman from your mother’s Mag, God rest her. I learn real quick, I do! I’ve always kept my eyes and ears open, as yer well aware, m’lady. I know how to do things proper, and I know I can be a good housekeeper for you, if you’ll just give me the chance,” Nan said enthusiastically. The tiring woman was taking a giant step upward in the hierarchy of her class.

“Then, with my lord’s permission, Nan, ’tis settled. You will be the housekeeper at Clearfields, and Nelda will become my chief tiring woman.” Having decided that, the new Lady Burke rose and stepped from her tub.

Nan and Nelda hurried forward with large warmed towels to dry her, then Nelda lightly dusted her mistress with scented powder. Nan stood ready with her mistress’s silken night rail, the same amethyst color of Valentina’s eyes. Slipping the garment over her lady’s head, she loosened Valentina’s long dark hair, which had been pinned before Valentina entered her tub. Nan brushed the glorious hair vigorously with a boar’s-bristle brush that had been dipped in lily-of-the-valley fragrance.

“Will you be getting into bed, m’lady?” Nan inquired politely.

“Not quite yet” came the reply.

Nan and her daughter bustled about the chamber tending to last-minute chores. The fire was banked carefully, the wine carafe checked to be certain it was full, the coverlet on the bed prettily drawn back so that the bed looked inviting. When the two women finished their tasks, they curtsied politely, wished their mistress great happiness, then departed.

Valentina was alone. She had not allowed them to draw the heavy velvet draperies, for she liked to see moonlight in the room. Clouds were beginning to drift across the sky, and Valentina turned from the window to look about the room. This was her bedchamber. It had been all her life. She had grown up in this room. It seemed so strange that she would spend her first night as Padraic’s wife in this room. How different a night it would be from that first night with poor Edward Barrows.

Valentina shivered, surprised to realize that she was afraid. It was strange, for she was no virgin and Padraic had made love to her before. Of course it had been months since their last sweet bout with Eros, and since then there had been Cicalazade Pasha. The new Lady Burke desperately wanted to take her mother-in-law’s advice. She wanted to consign the vizier to the past, but suddenly she was afraid she could not. In a flash, she perceived that she might not be ready to consummate her marriage. But if not now on her wedding night, then when?

“Damn him!
Oh, damn him!
” she whispered brokenly. The vizier had done this to her. He had stolen her wedding-night joy.

“Damn who?” Lord Burke had silently entered his wife’s bedchamber, dressed in a dark blue quilted velvet robe that came to his ankles. He moved across the room to take her into his arms.

“No one,” Valentine lied. “ ’Tis of no importance, my lord.”

“Good!” he told her. “I would have nothing distracting you from your wifely duties, madam.”

“What duties, my lord? As your wife, I have many duties,” she told him sweetly.

“Your loving duties, hinny love,” he murmured, his eyes warm. His dark head bent and he nuzzled her. “Oh, Val, you are so sweet!” His lips buried themselves in her neck, and her arms slipped up about him. He began impatiently to unfasten the tiny pearl buttons that held her gown together, and when he had bared her to the waist, he covered her beautiful breasts with hot kisses. A moment later he pushed the gown over her hips, letting it slide to the floor with a delicate hiss of silk.

“Padraic!” Her voice sounded ragged in her ears, like a sob.

He scooped her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently. Silently he stood above her, gazing down. Then he removed his dressing gown and the firelight played over his great nude body, turning it molten in the dimly lit room. He bent down toward her and in that moment Valentina was overcome by sudden, unreasonable fear. Whimpering, she scrambled across the bed, away from him.

There was an instant of shocked silence. Then Padraic grasped her shoulder to draw her back to him. “Hinny love, what is it?” The frightened eyes she turned on him nearly broke his heart. “Val! What is it?” Gently he drew her into his warm embrace.

“I cannot!” she whispered so faintly that he almost didn’t hear it. “I cannot be your wife in the full sense, Padraic. Oh, God! I am so sorry! I am so sorry! I should never have married you, Padraic, but oh, I love you so much!” She began to weep in great sobbing gasps.

“Hinny love, hinny love! If you truly love me, there is nothing we cannot overcome together,” he told her quietly. His large hand smoothed her hair. “Whatever Cicalazade Pasha did to you, Val, he did in a frenzy of pure lust.”

He let her cry for a while, then went on. “There are many ways in which a man may make love to a woman. I suspect that the vizier attempted all those ways with you. I will seek to love you in many ways, too, but sweetheart, I will
love
you, not
abuse
you. Can you trust me, Val, to give you sweet pleasure?”

She shuddered. “I am so afraid, Padraic, and I know I should not be. I am no green maid to come weeping and wailing to her marriage bed.”

“I have made love to you only twice before,” he reminded her softly. “The first time was here in this house. Do you remember?”

“I certainly do! You could have caused the most dreadful scandal if we had been caught.” She laughed weakly.

“The second time I made love to you was in the yurt of Borte Khatun. You had been through a terrible ordeal.”

“Aye,” she said, low, “but this is different, Padraic.”

“Tell me how it is different, hinny love,” he coaxed her.

She sighed deeply. “When Temur Khan and his men hurt me, it was horrible. Frightening! Yet you rescued me within a few hours. I fought Temur Khan and his men with all of my being, and although what they did to me hurt me, I was not truly violated.

“It was not the same with Cicalazade Pasha. Your mother says that a woman’s body, skillfully cajoled, can be made to respond even to a man she despises. I understand that now, but I have been left with a terrible fear of being subjugated by a man. Even a man I love. Oh,” she wailed helplessly, “how can
you
possibly understand?”

“Make love to me,” he said quietly.

“What?” she gasped. Had he heard nothing of what she had said? Was he truly that insensitive?

“You fear being overcome,” he said matter-of-factly. “I understand that. I do understand. I wish to ease your fears until we may banish them together. I desire you, Val, but I will not make love to you unless first you make love to me. You will be the one to initiate passion between us, not I. You will be the one who dictates the course our passion takes, not I. You will be the one in control, not I.” He swung his legs onto the bed and lay back, drawing her on top of him.

She was puzzled. Then suddenly she understood his strategy. Part of a man’s conquest of a woman involved the woman being pinned beneath the man, being overcome, overpowered, by his strength. That was precisely how it had been with Cicalazade Pasha. He had crushed her, forced her to his supreme will.

Valentina struggled into a sitting position, blushing as she straddled her handsome husband. She looked down at Padraic, her gaze intent.

He struggled with himself not to grin. Sitting there on top of him, a slightly bemused expression on her rosy face, she had no idea of the absolutely maddening effect she was having on him. She was utterly adorable. Outrageously beautiful. He longed to take matters into his own hands, but with admirable restraint he refrained. It was not easy, for her magnificent breasts soared above him like tempting fruits, ripe for plucking.

“Wh-what shall I do?” Valentina wondered aloud, her teeth worrying her lower lip.

The grin overcame him. “What would you like to do?”

“Oh, you great oaf!” she said furiously, her round bottom bouncing lightly. A mischievous light came into her eyes. Placing her hands on either side of him, she leaned forward to lightly brush just the nipples of her breasts back and forth against his chest. Leaning forward just a trifle more, she ran the tip of her tongue slowly over his lips. “Perhaps this?” she considered. “Or this?” She leaned back, carefully rotating her lower anatomy against his. Sitting straight again, her hands began to stroke his chest in small, slow circles. Then, leaning forward once more, she began to lick sensually at his nipples with a warm, teasing tongue.

Padraic groaned, a sound of pure, aching desire, but she warned him sternly, “You are my slave, Padraic! You will not touch me, no matter how desperate your desire, without my express permission. When I have satisfied my longing to master you, then and only then will I allow you to make love to me. Disobey me, and I will punish you! Do you understand me?”

Without waiting for an answer, she swung away from him. Kneeling on the bed by his side, she began to caress him again, her hands sliding over his body to find sensitive touch points he had not even known he had. She coupled her caresses with passionate kisses until he was so afire with yearning that only his deep love for her made it possible for him to restrain himself.

She growled softly like some feral animal against his throat and then began once more to stroke him, this time using her tongue, nipping at his nipples, arousing him so greatly that his manhood was hard with desire for her. Still, he reined in his passions.

Valentina sat back on her haunches and took his manhood in her hand. Skillfully she fondled his rigid length in a manner that he knew she had learned neither from Edward Barrows nor from him. Leaning over him, she placed a kiss on the burning tip, rubbing her cheek against it, crooning softly.

“Aye, and here’s a big, fine fellow! Does he long to bury himself within me?” She cupped his pouch, and looking directly into his eyes, she took him into her mouth, that she might suckle upon him.

For the briefest moment he was shocked by the look of open lust, by the overbearing power in her gaze. It was as if Valentina were an entirely different person than his sweet hinny love. But then he realized that, were their positions reversed, his look of conquest would be no different from hers!

She had forbidden him to touch her, but she had not forbidden him speech. Struggling to retain control of his body, he whispered hoarsely, “Aye, my beautiful wife, I want to fill you full of me!”

With a mocking little look, she released him from the delightful prison of her mouth and climbed back atop him. This time she sat high upon his chest and, leaning forward so that a pert nipple touched his lips, she ordered, “Part your lips! You may hold me within your mouth, but you may neither tongue me nor suckle upon me. Do you understand my orders, Padraic?”

“Aye, my sweet mistress,” he answered, and his lips closed around her tender nipple.

Carefully Valentina reached behind her. Grasping his great manhood, she began to work him, her hand sliding up and down the throbbing shaft of hard flesh as her hard little nipple nestled against his soft tongue.

She had gone too far. He could feel himself boiling to a crisis, unable to stop it! Unable to stop her! To force her beneath him where she belonged; to thrust himself into her sweetness again and again until they were both satisfied! There was no time! His passion burst forth, spewing itself into the air to fall like hot dew on his helpless body, on her clutching hand.

He groaned with relief and shame as her nipple fell from between his lips. He felt completely ravaged by her lust.

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