The King's Courtesan (24 page)

He took her along with him to visit the vil age and see the extent of their lands. He even cal ed them that, as if they were hers, too. He came fishing with her, and today he indulged her when she asked him to teach her how to use a sword. It was a very warm day. He’d removed his shirt and she’d feasted her eyes on his naked torso.

“You must keep your body balanced so you can strike or parry without being hit. Always have your feet shoulder-width and when you move, move so your legs are spread apart. Proper footing is the key.” He circled her, regarding her critical y. She was wielding a light rapier and dressed in boys’ clothes. He came to stand behind her, making adjustments to her arms and shoulders and setting her feet by sliding his hand down her legs.

“There. Much better.” He nodded his approval. “The more of your foot planted flat on the ground, the greater your strength when attacking. Slide your feet rather than lifting them and you wil be hard to knock off balance. Keeping your posture straight and your chest facing forward wil keep you stable as you make your swing.” He adjusted her elbows and placed a hand on her bottom, pushing to straighten her posture. She glared at him through narrowed eyes when he gave it a firm squeeze. He leaned over her shoulder, his breath feathering the hair on the nape of her neck. “It also al ows you to escape an enemy’s blow with a simple twist…
if
you maintain the proper position.”

“Like so?”

He grinned and adjusted her position yet again, pushing her bottom forward to tuck it in, brushing the outer curves of her breasts as he set her arms and shoulders, and sliding his hands from thigh to ankle to set her feet. “So many mistakes. One wonders if it’s wise to place pointy objects in your hands.”

“I am a fumble-foot,” she said. “I expect I shal need lots and lots of practice. Could I ever win a fight? Against someone like you?” Her voice was suddenly serious.

“No, love. I am stronger, faster and have greater speed. I’ve had a sword in my hand since I could walk and…in my younger days I had a great deal of dedication. Against someone like me you need cunning and guile. A smart fighter is aware of his surroundings at al times. It’s better the sun is in your opponent’s eyes than yours. Everyone has a weakness. Most opponents wil underestimate you, which can be used to your advantage. You don’t try to best someone like me. You use your surroundings and watch for weakness and when the moment is right, you escape him.

Besides violet eyes and a saucy bottom, what do you think is my weakness?”

“Your size?”

“How? My reach is longer and I’m very fast.”

“Would it make you tire quicker?”

“Smart girl! If I didn’t practice every day it might.” He chuckled and ruffled her hair. “So your best move is a good defense, sliding from side to side until your opponent tires.”

“But what if I just wanted to show off? To impress other ladies?”

“Ah! A dilettante I see. Come. I wil show you some attack positions and some very pretty flourishes.” Watching his muscles flex and his body move with fluid power as she stood but feet away caused a fluttering feeling inside her that didn’t help her concentration. She licked her lips as he whirled his blade, jumping high off the ground and twisting. He landed on one knee with his sword thrust into an invisible body. His sandy hair, almost blond from the sun, hung loose about bronzed shoulders, and his stomach rippled with muscle as, tossing and catching and twirling the sword, he strode toward her.
Dear Lord, how I
want him.

“Enough practice for today?” His eyes watched her with amusement.

He was showing off for me!
She grinned her appreciation.

“Yes, thank you, Robert.”

Her cheeks dimpled when she laughed, which was something she did a lot, and her eyes sparked with mischief. But it was the seductive sway of her hips and the tight fit of her breeches as she walked away that made him decide he ought to give her lessons every day.

HOPE DIDN’T SEE HER HUSBAND
at dinner. He had gone to the vil age with Sergeant Oakes to discuss building a bridge and new road. It would provide employment to some of those whose fortunes had suffered during and after the war. She didn’t doubt it was true, but she knew he did other things, as wel . He had men watching the roads from London, and she’d seen suspiciously wel -armed laborers with spyglasses tramping the fields and hil s. She also had the feeling when she saw him practice that he was preparing for something that lay ahead.
The enemy from
London?
There was so much about him she didn’t know.

She knew what she wanted, though. She waited for him in the upper hal in a blue silk bed gown, amusing Daisy with a bal of yarn.

His eyes smoldered when he saw her. “I have seen that look before, madam. You are bent on seduction.”

“And shal I succeed?”

She held out her hand. He took it, and she pul ed him down the hal and through her door. He slipped into her room with no hesitation.

She sat on her bed, her heart racing, and he pul ed off his boots and stretched out alongside her, his head resting on his bent arm. He tugged lightly at the loose curls that tumbled down her back, and then he tugged at the shoulder of her gown. With a sibilant sigh the silky garment slipped off her shoulders to pool around her waist. He caught her wrist and pul ed gently, and with a soft moan she slid into his waiting arms.

Covering his throat and jaw with steamy kisses, she worked at his shirt until she pul ed it free. She trailed her fingers across his rib cage, pressing her palm against his heartbeat, then lightly brushed his waist and hip and bent to kiss his bel y. Groaning and twisting he arched against her as her fingernails grazed the front of his breeches. She spread her hand wide, cupping his straining erection, and gave a tight squeeze.

“Christ! Sweetheart,” he moaned, jerking against her as his hand joined with hers, hurrying to undo his buttons.

“No,” she whispered, flicking his ear with her tongue. “Lie stil , sweet Robert, with your hands behind your head, or the play is done.”

He took a deep shuddering breath and clasped his hands behind his head as his cock swel ed from base to tip. She plucked at his buttons one by one, fiddling and tugging, pul ing them this way and that as his helpless erection jumped to her touch. He gritted his teeth as she loosed the last button. Night air swept his skin like a soft caress. She pul ed roughly at his breeches and he raised his hips to help her, cursing in a mixture of pleasure, frustration and violent aching.

His eyes flamed with passion as she teased him with her tongue.

“Mmm.” She caught his look and arched a brow, smiling seductively as she pointed up.

“Oh, God,” he gasped with a weak chuckle, lying back on the bed. She massaged his scrotum with one hand as the other gripped the base of his penis, sliding up and down with the play of her tongue. Stil watching in the mirror he combed his fingers through her hair, spreading it out like a dark curtain. Her slim back was arched and the firm buttocks he’d admired were on deliciously rounded display.

His fascination was brief, though. Watching in the mirror seemed to put things at a distance, and he was beginning to feel dizzy again.

Growling, he reached for her, hauling her up his body to claim her lips in a burning kiss. He groaned and turned into her, pushing her back against the pil ows, throwing one long leg across hers.

Skin burning, aching in every part, Hope thrust her nipples forward and he blazed a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her throat, stopping to nuzzle her neck and shoulders before rasping her peak, kissing and suckling with lips and tongue. She writhed beneath him as his hands roamed her body, petting, soothing, teasing, tweaking, until every nerve quickened, anticipating his touch. Lowering his head, he rested it against the soft curve or her bel y, grazing her skin with the stubble of his jaw. She giggled in protest and pushed at his shoulders and he looked up at her and grinned. His smile was dazzling. It stole her breath, and she knew the stranger she’d married had stolen her heart.

“You should smile more often,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through his hair.

Instead of answering, he gripped her thighs and parted them, then bent to taste her, stroking her with his tongue.

She gasped and gripped his shoulders as wild bursts of pleasure shot through her body, radiating from her center, through skin and nipples and lips and fingers, melting her insides and curling her toes. She bucked against him in a delirium of wild sensation as his fingers joined his tongue.

He licked and teased, nibbled and petted, and swirled wet and hot against her nub.

Her life, her future, her very survival had always hinged upon self-control, but this man stripped it from her as easily as he stripped her clothes. She cal ed his name, begging him to take her as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body, and when he rose to capture her lips and drive inside her, rocking her hard as her hips rose to meet him, she turned her back on a lifetime of hard-won lessons.

Poised on the brink, she wil ingly let go.

He led her into a ful -blown storm that shook her like a leaf as burst after burst of wild energy exploded inside her, thundering through her body and taking her soaring. It felt like rebirth. It felt like renewal. It felt like a new world was waiting alongside this man. A whimper of fear escaped her.

God help me, I am lost!

“Elf?” His voice was gentle, soothing, concerned, as he wrapped her in a warm embrace. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?

God knows I was carried away.”

“No,” she murmured, touching his cheek.
But you can now.

You can hurt me worse than anyone can.
“It was wonderful, Robert.” She felt a panicked need to know him better. She needed to know to protect herself, even though it was too late. There was no better time to talk to a man than when his mind and body were unguarded and at ease.

She snuggled against him, resting her chin against his chest, pil owed on her folded hands, and decided to start with something easy.

“Have you had many mistresses, Robert?”

“Are you jealous, wife? Counting you, I’ve had one.”

“But where did you learn that from, then? How did you become so…responsive, to a woman’s needs?”

“I am a soldier. I’m not a monk. And as I told you before, a man who fights must learn to be aware and observe.

Pleasing a woman is not al that different. Pay attention, respond, gauge the reaction.”

Is that all it was to him? A battle, sport, exercise?

“’Tis difficult to do with you, though. I tend to lose myself in the moment. I apologize if I was too rough. I can usual y exercise more self-control.”

“So can I,” she said with a happy grin. “Did you enjoy the mirror?”

“I certainly enjoyed the unfettered view of your delicious bum.” He rubbed the object of his admiration with a warm hand as he spoke.

“Ah! But I fear it made you dizzy.”

“The novelty was nice, but yes, it did after a while. It made me feel as if I stood outside of things, too. More observer than participant.”

“I’l get rid of it. It was a joke real y. After you said the only place I might keep one was in my room.”

He chuckled and ruffled her hair. “I would say put them in your conservatory, but I fear if you did I’d be constantly walking into them, mistaking them for walkways and pretty paths.”

“Mmm. We don’t want that…. Robert?”

“Yes?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

“Why al these questions?” His fingers brushed the outer curve of her breast. “Surely, under the circumstances, we have better things to do.”

She raised her head to look him in the eyes. “Though my life has been very different from yours, my survival has depended on noticing things, too. There’s a sadness in your eyes at times, and something dark. You said you were haunted by memories. I wondered if there was some lost lover, who stil has a claim on you.”

His hand stopped, and he lifted it away. Her stomach plummeted and she feared she’d made a bad mistake.

“No. There is no lost love for whom I grieve. Just a lost…

Never mind. I did have a great admiration for Elizabeth Walters. As a youth I served under her father. She was a sad and lonely child and I enjoyed paying attention to her. It seemed my duty to care for her when her father died…but I was more disgruntled then heartbroken when she chose another.”

“Then what—”

“My memories are nothing fit for your ears, Hope.” His voice was cold.

She snorted. “Not fit for my ears? From whence do you think I’ve come, Robert? What do you think I haven’t heard or seen?”

“True horror, sweetling. You watch it in your plays.”

“You forget. I grew up in the streets of London. I have seen the dead, frozen in place, their arms stretched out for alms.

I have seen young girls raped. I have seen men murdered for an accidental insult. I have seen more than you think.” He cocked his head and looked at her strangely. “Yet you seem so innocent, almost pure. How do you manage it?” She drew herself up, affronted. “I am a great actress I suppose. Perhaps I should have stayed with the stage.” Hurt and angry, she got up to leave even though it was her room, but he caught her wrist and drew her back.

“I meant no insult, love. Not at al .” His voice was soothing.

Warm again. “I merely wondered what magic kept the light within you alive through the dark. It was something I never managed.”

“I…” She blinked, shocked that he’d opened a firmly locked door, if only a crack.

“Perhaps because you were a witness, and not a part.”

“I lost my maidenhead at auction, Robert. I was a part.”

“I’ve heard the story. Your mother sold you. It was not your doing.”

“No. Not then. But after that I sold myself.”

“To survive.”

“To prosper.”

“You weren’t very good at it, though, were you?”

“Why must you insult me? Not good enough to please Charles, you mean? Not good enough to please you?”

“Hush, love. It’s not an attack.” He folded his arms around her, pul ing her close. “I watched you the night we married.