Page 25 of The Irish Gypsy

Kitty had trouble sleeping. She tossed and turned, banishing dark night thoughts. Her nerves seemed to be on edge to a point where she wanted to scream. There were nights when she was so jumpy her skin felt too tight for her body. At social functions, she spent more time in the card room than on the dance floor. Gambling was becoming an obsession with her. Charles was wise enough to realize that things usually ran their course before they stopped, but he did keep an eye on her. They were having what appeared to be a cozy afternoon tea together when Charles Patrick fell from the last two stairs.

"Take those damned things off immediately!"

shouted Kitty.

"Whatever's wrong, sweetheart?"

asked Charles, who'd never heard her raise her voice to the child before.

"He's always got those damned riding boots of yours on. It's the third time he's fallen down the stairs this week. If you fall down one more time, those damned boots go on the back of the fire! All he ever talks about is the horse you've promised. He'll break his neck!"

"Charlie, go upstairs and take the boots off. I'll try to coax Mummy out of her bad mood. Now what is it, Kathleen? Come and talk to me--we've always talked things out before. You know you can tell me anything."

"I've been gambling and losing. I lost those lovely earrings you bought me, and worse still, I came within a hairsbreadth of losing that country cottage in Kent you gave me last month, and I haven't even seen it yet. I don't like myself very much these days, Charles. I don't know what's the matter with me."

"I do,"

he said simply. He patted the couch beside him. Slowly she went to him and sat down. He put his arm about her and hugged her reassuringly.

"You're young and beautiful and bursting with life. You’re not being fulfilled and it's making you restless."

"I don't understand, Charles. What do you mean?"

"You're young and I'm not. I can't satisfy you in bed. The fires of my blood have died out, but yours are just beginning to burn. No, don't look so shocked, darling, it's perfectly true. I'm a realist and I knew it would happen one day. You need a lover. I'm not so selfish as to deny you such diversion. I only ask that you be discreet."

She looked at him with wide eyes.

"Do you mean you wouldn't mind?"

"I shall mind like the very devil, so be sure to keep me in ignorance."

"Oh, Charles, you can always make me laugh."

"And a good thing, too. You were sulky as a bear with a sore arse. That child probably is crying his eyes out upstairs,"

he teased.

"You lie through your teeth. You know I can't dampen his high spirits."

Her words were punctuated by a loud clatter. She ran to pick her son up, and he protested.

"It isn't the riding boots, Mummy, it's that damned beeswax the bloody servants keep polishing the stairs with."

"He has a salty vocabulary for someone who hasn't reached his third birthday. Speaking of birthdays, you're about to celebrate one shortly. Why don't we give a costume ball?"

Kitty was wise enough to take the suggestion her chef offered for the buffet-style supper. Charles had refused all blandishments to get him to wear a costume. He wore his dark evening clothes and told Kitty.

"If anyone objects, you can tell them I'm supposed to be Beau Brummell."

Most of the ladies went all out with rather grand costumes. There were many Marie Antoinettes, and many medieval ladies, each one in a steeple headdress. Julia, resplendent in red wig, made a magnificent Elizabeth and contrasted well with Kitty's authentic Gypsy dress. Everyone wore masks, so it took a few minutes to recognize some people. Kitty was surprised to find the man in the common seaman's striped jersey was none other than the Prime Minister. She winked at him.

"Always predicted you would amount to nothing--glad to see you've fallen far below my expectations."

Charles found her sparring with Julia.

"You are audacious to dress as a Gypsy girl, Kitty. I think it's demeaning to the duke."

Kitty laughed as she tipped back her third glass of champagne.

"Careful what you eat, Julia; we cooked one or two hedgehogs this morning."

"It's midnight and there's no sign of anyone leaving. I think it's been an unqualified success, darling,"

said Charles.

"The masks definitely allow people to have more fun. Everyone still will be here at breakfast time,"

she said happily.

"I think I'll go up now. I'll slip away quietly so people won't get the idea we want them to leave," he said.

"There's no fear of that. This lot will see the dawn arrive. Why don't you open up a card room?"

she suggested.

"Wouldn't be able to fill it. Too much competition from that moonlit garden. I won't spoil your party with cards, I'm off to bed. Enjoy yourself, darling."

"I'll come up with you for a moment. They wouldn't miss me if I disappeared altogether,"

she said and laughed.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like me to stay with you?"

she asked him.

"Kathleen, I'm very sure. I'm going to have a brandy and a cigar. You get back to the rabble and I'll see you tomorrow."

She closed the door on the peaceful scene, and before she reached the staircase, the great noise of the party came up to meet her. Steadying herself with the banister, she warned herself not to have any more champagne and descended the stairs. The French doors to the garden stood open invitingly. A tall, masked figure slipped his arm about her and drew her into the night. She turned her face up to him with a polite refusal on her lips, but before she could utter a word his mouth was upon hers demanding a response.

"Patrick, whatever are you doing?"

she gasped breathlessly.

"Abducting you, darling,"

he whispered deliciously against her ear.

She pulled back reluctantly, so he quickly lifted her into his arms and strode off into the darkness.

"What are you going to do?"

she cried.

"You know,"

he promised softly.

"Put me down immediately or I'll scream my head off,"

she threatened.

He chuckled and said.

"You can scream bloody murder, and who will attend?"

"Why are you doing this?"

she cried.

He murmured softly.

"Because you tempt me, and I cannot resist."

His carriage was in darkness, but it had a driver waiting. In spite of her struggles, he lifted her inside with amazingly gentle hands.

"I can't just leave my own party. I'll be missed! They'll call the police."

"Your guests will think you are upstairs and Charles will think you are downstairs. I'll return you in the morning, and none will be the wiser."

"Why are you doing this to me?"

she demanded angrily.

He easily lifted her against him.

"Come to me, darling, while I explain."

Her skirt and petticoats twisted behind her and she was trapped against him in a reclining position.

"Tonight was a fantasy for you, pretending to be that little Gypsy we both knew, wild and free. I'm completing the daydream where your secret lover comes to steal you away and carry you off."

She could feel his manhood throbbing through the thin material that covered her thighs. Her senses were being aroused against her will. His voice was coaxing and persuasive.

"I'll make a bargain with you. Give me one last time, sweetheart, and I give you my oath I'll never bother you again."

She was being swayed against her better judgment, but his word was his bond and she knew he would keep it once he had pledged himself.

"Patrick, let me breathe. I can't think coherently when you are touching me."

"You have the same effect on me, kitten; like heady wine!"

He allowed her to sit up. She immediately missed his warmth and shivered. Wisely he kept his distance. She moved toward him of her own free will.

"I'm cold,"

she said shyly.

He took his cloak from the opposite seat and wrapped her tightly. The carriage stopped and he jumped out and lifted her down.

"You are a devil to bring me here,"

she protested when she saw they were at his house in Half-Moon Street.

He caught her earlobe between his teeth,.

"Then that's another fantasy you can fulfill--bargaining with the devil for your soul,"

he said and laughed.

"It's the height of arrogance to bring me here for a tryst,"

she said with more anger than she really felt.

He set her down on a velvet couch while he lit the gaslight. The light flickered up across his face, so incredibly handsome she had almost forgotten its powerful attraction.

"Stay with me tonight, love. Don't leave,"

he begged seriously.

In a far-off corner of her mind she realized it was hopeless to oppose him. He always had his way.

He has hypnotized me,"

she thought wildly, then ruefully admitted the strong attraction she felt for him was love inevitable. To be here alone together was paradise. He touched her hair and it curled possessively about his fingers.

"Let me make love to you tonight, so we'll always remember. Let me play with you. I'll start with your fingertips and stop at your toes,"

he said, pressing quick kisses into the palm of her hand. He kissed the silky flesh on the inside of her arm.

"Be generous with me, sweet; you know I'm madly in love with you."

He found her lips and kissed her deeply. His hand caressed her breast.

"Chamade," he whispered hoarsely, "the heart wildly beating in surrender." Very gently he undressed her, kissing each part as it was uncovered to him.

"Now you,"

she murmured, reaching for his shirt buttons. She performed the same ritual for him and by the time they were both naked, they were dizzy with rapture. He lifted her from the couch, high above him and let her slip down his body. The head of his shaft penetrated her and he cupped her buttocks so she could sit on him and savor the exquisite feeling it gave to both of them. The tip of his tongue slipped inside her mouth and she felt she would die from the twin sensations of penetration and withdrawal their bodies made. She wrapped her legs around his back and he slowly walked to the bed with her in that position. He bent down until she was on the bed, then she playfully rolled away and buried her face in the pillows. In a flash he straddled her and showered kisses on her back. As he rolled her over to face him, their playful laughter ceased and they became very serious. The awe of the moment dawned upon them as they fully realized the deep love they felt for each other. Their lovemaking had a delicious newness about it, while at the same time they were repeating the ritual mating they had shared years before. With hardly a pause he repeated his lovemaking to make up for all the nights they had lived without it. Afterward they lay entwined and talked.

"I think it will be easier for us if I go away," he said.

"But you said war was about to break out in America,"

she said, frightened.

"There's money to be made in war, darling."

"Not gunrunning, Patrick,"

she said fearfully.

"No, not gunrunning. I can leave that up to my partner. You forget that Hind's is a food company. We can get army contracts. That's why I sold the mills. There will be an embargo on cotton and all our food factories are in the North. My sympathies lie with the South, but I have more sense than to align myself with the losing side."

"How can you possibly know who will lose?"

"I know. I'm far enough removed to see things objectively. The North is vital, alive, industrious; the South is indolent," he said.

"Let's not speak of war,"

she begged.

He kissed her hungrily and she responded immediately.

"Am I right to think you love-starved, darling? Does Charles....no, I'd rather not know! I can't bear to think of you together. All that really matters is that he's good to you."

"He is good to me. To Charles Patrick also."

She bit her lip because she knew she gave him pain. He crushed her to him.

"Never stop loving me,"

he demanded.

Patrick knew a deep need to put his brand upon her to blot out the thought of all other lovers, ever. He knew he must make love to her as if it was their first time, and their last. How could he show her what she meant to him in one short night?

He pulled her on top of him to lie along his hard length.

"I have so much I want to give you, but we only have till dawn. Take it from me hungrily. Make demands on me. I'll give you everything and take everything in return."

Suddenly Kitty was seized by a dark, violent passion. Only Patrick could arouse her to such madness. It was their secret that when they shared a bed they became shockingly wild and untamed.

They gave each other pain and pleasure, torture and bliss. They shared love and lust and raw carnality. Licking, sucking, biting. Fierce. Savage, Ferocious. Cruel. It took more than once to slake their need. Then their lovemaking became gentle, sweet, tender, heartbreakingly poignant. All giving, sharing, cherishing surrender.

They lay spent, totally exhausted from an excess of love. He stroked her gently and they drifted into slumber.

She awoke with a start.

"Patrick, wake up, darling, I have to leave."

She shook him gently.

He masked the regret her words brought to him.

"Let me dress you."

Inside the carriage he held her in his lap so they could savor their last precious moments together. The carriage stopped. The moment had come. Her lips were bee stung from too many kisses, so he kissed her forehead.

"Don't look back."

She stood in the cold light of dawn and wrapped his cloak tightly about her. A few carriages still were there. One couple was actually getting into a punt at the water's edge, each carrying a champagne bottle. Kitty shuddered. She made her way toward the house, hoping to reach her bed without having to face anyone.