Virginia Henley (48 page)

“Until now we have only shared hot, driving sex. Tonight, Catherine, I am going to show you how to make love.”

She lifted her head and stared into his dark, fathomless eyes. She caught her breath as she realized she was about to embark upon a journey with him from which there might be no return. She sensed it was a place where only a few dared to go. It was a destination that demanded the surrender of not only your heart, but your immortal soul as well.

He took possession of her fingers and bestowed lingering kisses upon each one, his lips savoring her loveliness, his eyes worshipping the delicate beauty that was hers alone. He dropped magical kisses into her palm, then closed her fingers over them to keep them from escaping. His mouth lavished her wrist and the tender flesh of her inner arm. His lips and his fingers anointed her shoulder until Catherine was floating in a sea of mystical sensuality. His tongue traced over her flesh, tasting, licking, cherishing, every inch of silken skin, making her feel like the most beautiful woman who’d ever lived or been loved by a man.

His possessive fingers followed where his mouth had led, stroking and caressing and evoking an anticipation that was so intense she wanted to scream. As his mouth and fingers cherished her breasts and nipples she writhed with deep pleasure, longing for more and knowing he would give her more.

It took him more than an hour to reach the insides of her thighs. By now she was reeling from his touch and the male scent of his body. Heat and chills chased through her, and a myriad of sensations she’d never dreamed of danced over her sensitive skin, evoked by the slow hot glide of his lips and his provocative tongue, seeking out all her secret female pleasure points.

He rose up above her, making love to her with his eyes until she was panting with need. He towered over her, choosing the moment when she was luscious and ripe and smoldering with dark, erotic fire. He thrust into her slowly, inch by delicious inch, until his shaft was seated to the hilt. Then he held still, allowing his cock to throb and pulse against her unbelievably tight honeyed sheath. He felt her close sleekly around him, and both enjoyed every quiver and vibration of the achingly perfect consummation.

He dipped his head and slipped his tongue into the hot, dark cave of her mouth. Then, moving his cock and his tongue in unison with long, slow thrusts, he brought her to a peak of ecstasy. He stopped then, wanting to draw out her rapture. He was in no hurry to bring such an exquisite mating to a climax. Three times he brought her to the brink of fulfillment, and finally, it was her love cries that made him lose control. His white-hot seed flooded into her, at last bringing her to orgasm, and he thrilled as her shattering cry of bliss poured out into the still, dark night.

He gathered her to him in a tender embrace that was heart-scalding. She clung to him, knowing that what they had shared was a rare gift from the gods of love. He had made the age-old act of domination and submission absolutely perfect. Her body softened in his arms as she drifted to the edge of sleep.
I will never be alone again. Patrick Hepburn will keep me safe forever.

 

In the morning, when Cat lifted her lashes, she found Patrick’s arms still about her, his dark eyes gazing into hers. She smiled shyly. “What a lovely way to awaken.” She reached out and traced the arch of a black eyebrow with her fingertips.

He kissed her nose. “Mrs. Dobson brought us breakfast.”

Cat gasped. “She didn’t see us in bed together?”

“She did indeed and stared long enough to satisfy her female curiosity. She must have decided you were in good hands ... it will take a week to get the grin off her face.”

Cat blushed prettily as he arose and brought the tray to the bed. He piled up their pillows, got back into bed, lifted her so that she sat between his legs and proceeded to tempt her with food and caresses. She opened her mouth for his delicious offerings then licked her lips. “It tastes better when shared with a naked husband. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Ravenous.”

She felt his erection stir against her soft bottom cheeks and knew he did not refer to the food. “Are you always in that rampant condition, my lord?”

“Of course not,” he denied. “It only comes upon me at morning and at night and a dozen times in between.”

She turned in his arms and yielded her mouth to him. “Let me slake your appetite for me so that you can think about food.”

An hour’s love play satisfied them for a time. Later, when the bathing tub was filled with water, they bathed together, with Cat again reclining between his legs. “I love being held this way.”

Her glance fell on the small traveling bag she had brought. “Oh, I never wore the lovely nightgown Maggie sewed special for me.”

“She didn’t intend you to wear it on your wedding night. Maggie knows better. She made it for you to wear this morning. Surely you don’t think I’m going to let you get dressed?” He squeezed the large sponge and the water cascaded over her breasts, making her quiver, and she realized that Patrick intended to keep her in a state of arousal all day. She sighed with happiness.

The afternoon shadows were lengthening before they could bear to leave their idyll. Patrick saddled Valiant and Jasmine, then lifted his bride into the saddle, and they cantered stirrup to stirrup, oblivious of everything except each other. They rode contentedly side by side, talking and laughing until dusk began to fall, then Patrick, realizing they were still five miles from Spencer Park, issued his challenge.

Before the word
race
was out of his mouth, Cat was galloping like the wind, her laughter and her lovely hair streaming out into the soft air of the April evening. Both of them knew he could easily overtake her, but he had no desire to pass her. Instead, he kept apace, his glance filled with admiration for her impulsive courage and her
joie de vivre.
Simply being in her company and watching her filled him with happiness.

When they arrived at Spencer Park, everything was in readiness for them. Mr. Burke led them to the library, where he performed the ceremony of turning over the keys to Lady Stewart. The deeds to the mansion, the tenant farms and the vast acreage were laid out on the desk along with a strongbox and the account books. Catherine smiled gratefully at Mr. Burke and the head servants he had gathered to welcome them.

“I deeply appreciate the years of dedication, loyalty and hard work you have put into making Spencer Park not only a magnificent country estate but also a profitable enterprise. I proudly accept the keys as chatelaine and turn the deeds and all else over to my husband, Patrick Hepburn, Lord Stewart, who will henceforth be master of this household.”

“I too thank you for your years of loyal service until my wife became old enough to claim her inheritance. Mr. Burke, I value your stewardship, which I shall be hard-pressed to improve upon, and assure you that I will seek your guidance in many things.”

The newlyweds hurried through the dinner that awaited them in the vast formal dining room and escaped upstairs at the first opportunity. David Hepburn and Maggie, who had arrived the day before with a coach filled with luggage, had transformed Catherine’s bedchamber and the room adjoining it into a master suite. The double door between had been removed, and deep, comfortable chairs placed before the fireplace had turned the other chamber into a sitting room. It also held a small table where they could sit and share an intimate meal.

Cat threw open her wardrobe. “Maggie, you managed to bring all my favorite gowns. How on earth would I manage without you?”

Patrick came up behind Cat and slipped his arms about her waist. “You spoil her to death, Maggie. Where the devil will all my stuff go?” he asked in mock dismay.

“David filled the wardrobe in the other room with yer clothes, my lord, and he put yer strongbox on top of the tall chest fer safekeeping.” She handed Cat a small key. “Yer jewel case is on yer dressing table. David brought up a jug of ale and some wine and assured me the only other thing ye’d insist upon is privacy.”

“I bow to his intuitive power and thank you for everything, Maggie, my love.” Patrick held open the door. “Don’t think I’m pushing you out, but I would like to be alone with my blushing bride.”

Maggie’s amused glance swept over the tall Scot and lingered at his groin. “Well it’s obvious ye’ve no intention of hiding yer impatience, or anything else fer that matter. I bid ye good night.”

Hours later, as his beautiful wife lay asleep in his arms, a feeling of contentment stole over Hepburn. Not long ago he had assumed the married state would suffocate him because he had always ranged alone, but the anticipation of sharing his life with Catherine now brought him deep pleasure.

After they had made love, they lay curled together and talked for hours. He told her some of his plans for Spencer Park. Patrick wanted to breed horses as well as cattle, and Cat agreed wholeheartedly. He suggested that they enclose some commons and wasteland adjacent to their property and even increase the number of their tenant farms.

She told him of the plans she had sketched for a brew house, patterned after the one at Crichton.

“Did you know that England’s most profitable export is wool?”

“You think we should breed sheep here at Spencer Park?”

“No, sheep and cattle can’t graze on the same land. Sheep grow thicker coats in the Borders. I’d like to take some of Spencer Park’s profits and buy a herd of ewes for Crichton.” His arms tightened. “We will have to divide our time between England and Scotland. There won’t be much time for Court life,” he warned, expecting her to protest.

She lifted her mouth to his. “I don’t want Court life; I want
our
life. I don’t wish to be at the beck and call of a queen and do her bidding; I only hunger to do your bidding.”

His eyes filled with amusement. “Little Hellcat, that will last only until the honeymoon is over.”

She set her lips to his throat. “Our honeymoon will never be over. I’m mad in love with you, Patrick. Let me show you.”

Now, as he gazed down at her lovely sleeping face, he grinned into the darkness. No wonder he felt contented. Her sexual appetite was almost a match for his.

During their first week at Spencer Park, Patrick and Catherine spent every day and night together. It gave him deep pleasure to educate his wife about the magnificent country estate she had brought him in marriage. They rode out over the two thousand acres, visiting all their tenant farms, and met the families who lived and worked on their land.

She listened proudly as Hepburn eased the fears of their people by assuring them that there would be no drastic changes in their lives because Lady Catherine had married a Scot. He promised to answer any questions they had and to address their grievances. He encouraged them to speak freely and pledged to work with them to solve any difficulties that might arise and were inevitable on such a large estate.

As they rode side by side, Catherine’s eyes glowed with admiration. “You have them eating out of your hand. How do you manage to earn their loyalty so quickly?”

“When they speak, I listen. I show respect for the hard labor involved in working the land and tending the herds. They see my calloused hands and know I am no stranger to manual labor. When I urge them to voice their grievances, I am not being magnanimous; I am using common sense. People are happier and more productive if they have some measure of control over their lives.”

It was the height of calving season and Catherine watched, enthralled, as the cows on every farm began to give birth. She learned that a newborn calf did not have long horns, but developed them over its first year of life. Patrick explained that a healthy cow that had previously given birth had no difficulty delivering her calf, but a heifer that went into labor for the first time sometimes needed help. This was graphically demonstrated when one of the young longhorn’s loud mooing and frantic struggles alerted Catherine that she was in trouble. Cat was out of the saddle in a flash, but Hepburn was quicker. She stood by, holding her breath, as Patrick and a cowherd helped the animal to deliver not one but two calves. Cat heaved a deep sigh of relief as both the newborns struggled to their feet. Her eyes sparkled with joy. “Oh, twins. It’s a miracle!”

“I’m thrilled that you are developing a keen interest in the working of the estate. I know that watching the milking and learning the process of butter and cheese making has brought you satisfaction this week, but I believe it will also help you to become a good businesswoman.”

Her husband’s praise flattered her more than compliments about her beauty. “I remember that you once told me Spencer Park supplied butter to Elizabeth’s Court. With your connections to England’s new king, do you think you could increase the things we supply to include milk and cheese?”

“You have been reading my mind. I’m supposed to be the one with occult powers,” he teased.

“Perhaps it’s catching!”

He lifted her into the saddle. “Perhaps it is. Tell me what I am thinking this very moment.”

She laughed seductively and bent to whisper in his ear.

He grinned wickedly. “You are cheating, Hellcat. When I lift you into the saddle you know I turn hard as marble.”

When they returned to the manor they went upstairs immediately. Patrick lit them a fire and then they bathed together. Since they planned to dine in the privacy of their chamber, Cat donned a pretty night rail, but only when Maggie brought up their food did Patrick shrug into a robe.

They laughed and made love, and finally, as she lay in his arms in front of the fire, Catherine admitted she’d never had such intense feelings before. She didn’t merely love this man. She adored him, worshipped him and doted on him. She threaded her fingers into his black hair. “Patrick Hepburn, I
treasure
you.”

“You are my treasure.” He lifted her and carried her to bed.