Virginia Henley (39 page)

When they tired of riding with the wild colts, Patrick took Cat to Hunsdon Grange to visit John Carey and his wife, Mary.

John picked up Catherine and swung her about. “Heavens! I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl ... well, you are still a little girl, except you are older.”

“Catherine, what a beauty you have turned into,” Mary enthused.

“Promise you’ll come and visit every week that you are here in Hertford? If I promise not to let the children put their sticky fingers on your lovely white velvet, will you stay for lunch?”

“Of course we will, and they can put their sticky fingers anywhere they please. Lord Stewart is mad about children!”

The afternoon light had faded from the sky as they rode back, their stirrups almost touching, both of them counting the moments until they could go upstairs and shut out the world.

Back at Spencer Park, they had a light supper together. Cat hadn’t the faintest notion what she was eating. She couldn’t take her eyes off Patrick as the longing inside her became unbearable. She was all ashiver with anticipation for what was yet to come, and the minutes dragged by so slowly, she wanted to scream.

“You go up first,” he murmured softly. “Make sure the adjoining door is unlocked.” Hepburn was at the end of his endurance.

“Maggie, I think I’ll go up to bed. The fresh winter air has made me so tired.” She stood up and yawned.

Maggie followed her upstairs, closed her curtains and turned down her bed. “It’s very early. Are ye all right, my lamb?”

“I feel fabulous. Maggie, where’s the key to this door?”

“Ye don’t need a key. The door is locked.”

“I would feel much better if I had the key. Where is it?”

“It’s in my pocket.”

Catherine’s eyes glittered with stubborn determination as she held out her hand for the key.

“Ye seem to have gotten over Will in the blink of an eye.”

“Will who?” Catherine asked blankly.

“Did Lord Stewart ask ye to wed him?”

“That’s none of your business!”

“It is if ye want the key. Did he ask ye to wed him?”

“Oh, yes, yes, Maggie, but it’s a secret!”

“A secret betrothal?”

Cat nodded and showed her Hepburn’s ring. “Promise you won’t breathe a word of this to anyone?”

“My lips are sealed.” Maggie handed her the key and rolled her eyes. “As if a locked door would stop him.”

Cat hugged her tightly. “Thank you. Hurry! Hurry!”

Maggie went back downstairs in time to hear Patrick bid good night to Mr. Burke. She waited until she was alone with the steward, then she lowered her voice to a confidential murmur. “They are secretly betrothed!”

Mr. Burke did not let on that Hepburn had already confided in him. “Thank you for placing your trust in me, Maggie.”

P
atrick crossed her chamber in three strides and lifted her high against his heart. “I thought the bloody day would never end!”

“It hasn’t ended ... it’s only just begun.” She traced the outline of his lips with a fingertip, then kissed him deeply.

He set her feet to the carpet and turned her about so that he could undo her gown. “Hold still so I can undress you. My hands are big and clumsy on these tiny buttons.”

“I hardly believe I’m the first female you’ve disrobed.”

His teeth worried her ear. “My previous conquests have always managed to disrobe themselves.”

“Cocksure devil!” She rubbed her bum across his hard thighs. “Damn, I’m not even tall enough to reach your naughty parts.”

“I like you small.” He opened the gown and slid his hands inside to cup her breasts. “You’re small everywhere but here.” He kissed the nape of her neck and had her naked in a trice. When he sat her on the bed to remove her hose and garters, she teased the bulge between his legs with her toes. He grabbed her foot to tickle it and she rolled onto her knees and tried to scamper away. In a flash he was on top of her, holding her fast.

She couldn’t stop laughing. “You brute! How much ransom did you pay for me?”

He dropped a kiss on her bare bottom, right above her saucy tattoo. “Five.” Patrick removed his doublet and his shirt.

She sat up on the bed and said ruefully, “Poor Patrick, I’m sorry you had put a five-hundred-pound mortgage on Crichton.”

“It was five thousand,” he said, amused.

“You paid five
thousand
for me?”

“Yes, so consider yourself bought and paid for, Catherine.”

“I love the way you roll the
r
in Catherine. It sends shivers up my spine.” She watched intently as he unfastened his belt. “Since my services are paid for, Lord Bloody Stewart, which would you like me to perform first?”

With a straight face, he said, “How about removing my boots?”

“You devil!” She stood up on the bed, grabbed his hair and pulled. He tumbled her down beside him, crying out in mock pain. Then he removed his boots and breeches and lifted her on top of his hard body, holding her captive for his loving.

Hepburn’s dark face hardened. “My beautiful little Hellcat. I’ve never had such intense feelings for anyone before.”

“Of course you haven’t! I don’t want you to merely
love
me. I want you to adore me, to worship me and dote on me.” Her hair cascaded down against his throat. “I want you to
treasure
me.”

Her words caught him off guard. Cat took it for granted that he loved her, though he had been careful never to declare such a thing in his life. Then all rational thoughts fled as he rolled her to the submissive position and made passionate love to her. Though they drew it out for more than an hour, sharing countless kisses, it was not nearly enough to satisfy them. As soon as she was able to catch her breath, Catherine came over him in the dominant position and they began to make love all over again.

Cat awoke before sunup, when the bed began to feel cool. She sat up and saw that she was alone. Hepburn and his clothes had disappeared through the connecting door, for appearance’s sake. Her lips curved in a wicked smile. The only trace he’d left behind was on her sheets. She padded, naked, to the window, threw back the curtains and then climbed back into bed to watch the pale winter sun rise. She hugged her knees and knew she had never been happier in her entire life. A slight shadow clouded her thoughts:
He will only stay until the end of November. How will I bear it when he goes back to Scotland?

Later in the day, she sat on the pasture fence, watching Patrick work with the wild colts. To Catherine he had never seemed to be a patient man, but when it came to horses, he was patience personified. He stood watching them for the better part of an hour, waiting until they came to him. When they made the first move and came closer, he spoke in a quiet, soothing voice, murmuring and whispering magic words that lured them to him. Finally, the dominant one of the pair nudged his leather jac. Then, and only then, did he give it the apple he carried.

After another hour had passed and gray clouds began to gather, Patrick lifted Catherine from her perch. “Tomorrow, they will come to you. Have you decided on names for them?”

“I thought of Slate and Shale for the color of their coats, and because I want them strong and indestructible ... like you.”

“Flattery will get you anything you desire, my beauty.”

She laughed up at him. “I desire
you
and
you
and
you
again.”

“It’s too cold out here to be naked”—he waggled black brows—“but we could use a hay-filled stall in the stables.”

She punched him. “Too many grooms and horsemen in there.”

He snapped his fingers. “I know! We’ll go to the library.”

“You cunning devil! You’re too experienced at this.”

“Not guilty! The library simply seems an appropriate setting for a tutor to give his pupil some private lessons.”

“Pure logic. It’s time that desk was put to good use.”

On their way to the library, they passed Maggie. “It looks like rain, so we’ve decided to read,” Cat declared.

“I’ll order ye a fire lit in there.”

“No need, Maggie, I’ll do it,” Patrick assured her.

Cat winked at Maggie. “He’s good at lighting fires.”

The serving woman’s glance swept over him. “Aye, carries his own poker, I warrant. Makes me warm just looking at him.”

They shut the library door and collapsed against it, laughing. “’Tis no wonder you’re a saucy wench, with a tart-tongued Scotswoman like Maggie for a nursemaid.”

“Growing up with her as my nurse prepared me for the rigors of having a rough Scots devil like you for a husband.” She brushed against his arousal and danced away. “It’s a lovely room. If you teach me something that elevates my mind, we can come again tomorrow.”

On the morrow, as it turned out, they had a visitor who prevented them from dalliance in the library.

“Robert! How did you know we were here?” Cat puzzled.

“Philadelphia, of course. Here’s a letter for you.” As Cat opened the envelope, he grinned at Hepburn. “You lost no time getting your feet under the table.”

“We need to talk,” Patrick said to Robert in a low voice. Then to Catherine, he said, “I’m taking Robert to see the colts. Tell Cook to make something special for dinner.”

As soon as the men left, Cat read her letter.

Catherine read the letter to Maggie. “I feel so badly for poor Mary Fitton. Pembroke is not only ungallant; he’s being vicious. He’s as much to blame as Mary—
more
to blame, since she is so young! I can’t believe I let him pay court to me.”

“The woman always gets the mucky end of the stick in these affairs, my lamb. Mary will have an illegitimate child, and Pembroke will be set free to go his lecherous way, I warrant.”

“Maggie, I feel so guilty that Mary is disgraced and devastated, while I’m deliriously happy.”

“Ye reap what ye sow in this world, lass.”

Well, Mary will surely reap what Pembroke has sown!
“I must reply to Philadelphia’s letter and write one to Kate too.”

Patrick and Robert, their arms resting on the top rail of the fence where the colts were pastured, had a private conversation.

“You are the one who will take James the news of Elizabeth’s demise. Since it must be done with all speed, I advise you to start laying your plans now, Robert.”

“She’s ill with a cold. Do you think her death is imminent?”

“Nay. She will pass just after the spring equinox.”

Robert stared at Patrick, fascinated with his prescience. “Four months ... yes, I should make plans, lay out the shortest route, decide on stops to change the post-horses.”

Patrick nodded. “You will have to carry an object taken from her person and deliver it to James so he can trust with certainty that the news you carry is gospel truth. The Stuart does not trust lightly.”

“My sisters tend the queen. When Elizabeth is ill, she prefers to have Kate at her bedside. It should not prove impossible for my sisters to pass a personal object to me. But what if she refuses to name James her successor?”

“Cecil will be there. He will see to that, Robert.” Hepburn placed a trusting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come, we’ll find a map and plan out your route.”

They went inside and found Catherine busy writing letters. “Do you go to London from here, Robert, or north to your wife?”

“I return to London tomorrow, and then I travel north.”

“I’m sorry you can spend only one night with us, but will you take these letters to your sisters? And please give Kate my wishes for her speedy recovery. She is far too selfless.”

“It would be my pleasure, Catherine.”

“Now that I’m in a writing mood, I shall pen a note to Liz. I hope she is well?”

“She is indeed. Married life suits us both. I recommend it.” Robert was careful not to mention that Queen Anne had invited Liz for the Christmas festivities at the Scottish Court. It would prompt a hundred questions from Cat, and he must not even hint that he was working secretly for King James.

After dinner that evening the two men withdrew to the library to map out different routes from London to the Border. Catherine took the opportunity to go upstairs early so that she could lock the adjoining door between her chamber and Patrick’s. Under no circumstances would she allow Hepburn to spend the night in her bed when Robert was under the same roof.

Around midnight she heard the doorknob rattle, followed by loud scratching on the wood. Cat jumped from her bed and ran barefoot to the wide double doors. She put her lips to the keyhole and whispered, “Stop! You cannot come in, Patrick.”

“Why the devil not?”

“Don’t shout! Robert would call you out if he knew you had seduced me. I don’t want you to have a duel!”

Patrick chuckled. Her imagination was so dramatic. “The wound you’re inflicting is worse than any Robert could give me.”

“Robert would lose a sword fight with you, you savage brute. Go away; go to bed!”