Page 28 of This Heart of Mine (O’Malley Saga #4)
“Well,”
said Willow, “I for one will be delighted to ride to Hill House in your fine coach, Robin. You’ve never offered it to me, and ’tis the best-sprung vehicle I’ve ever ridden in. But how will you and Angel get home?”
“We are leaving tomorrow,”
came Robin’s reply. “There will be time enough for the coach to get us to Lynmouth , and then return to London for you and Alex and Velvet.”
“In that case,”
said Velvet sweetly, “I shall be quite content to leave for Scotland.”
She smiled mischievously at her husband.
“Ye’ll drive me mad, woman, if I don’t kill ye first,”
Alex grumbled at her darkly.
“Have you grown tired then of the making-up?”
she murmured.
Alex’s eyes suddenly grew warm again, and his mouth, which had been compressed into a thin, angry line, softened. Crossing the space that separated them, he swept her up laughingly and walked from the room carrying his precious burden. Behind him he heard the gasps of surprise from Willow and Angel and the indulgent chuckles of his two brothers-in-law.
Velvet nuzzled her husband’s ear as he exited Lynmouth House and moved across the garden that partitioned it from their own house, Greenwood. He stumbled a little as she nibbled thoughtfully on his tender earlobe.
“Wanton,”
he growled. “Ye’re naught but a shameless wanton.”
“And you’d have me no other way, my lord,”
she whispered boldly as he entered their house and mounted the stairs to their private apartments. Two young housemaids dusting in the hallway gaped, stunned, after them. Velvet ran her tongue around the shell of his ear, and he shuddered.
“I’ll drop ye,”
he threatened, but she only laughed.
“Nay, you won’t, Alex. You’re too hot to take your pleasure with me and too much the gentleman to do it here before the servants.”
She blew softly into his ear.
“Ye’re as hot to fuck as I am,”
he muttered thickly, kicking their bedchamber door open and entering the room.
“Aye, my lord,”
she drawled slowly, “I am.”
He put her down and, hooking his fingers into her low-cut bodice, yanked the fabric downward, tearing her gown away to bare her breasts. Pushing her back upon their bed, he deftly tossed her skirts up with one hand while loosening his own clothes with the other. Then, falling atop her, his mouth found a tender and tempting nipple. Slowly his tongue encircled it while his left hand imprisoned her hands above her head, and his right hand found the sensitive little jewel of her womanliness. Gently he stroked it, his mouth all the while suckling her breast. Beneath him, Velvet quivered with excitement, loving his touch and his insistent lips on her nipple.
“Aye, ye’re naught but a shameless strumpet,”
he muttered against her flesh, “and were I not sure ’twas I who took yer maidenhead, I should wonder about yer unseemly eagerness. Knowing the truth, however, I can only assume yer wild passion for me is the cause.”
Velvet laughed low. “Aye, my lord, but I wonder if my passion will ever be satisfied with all your talk. Ahhhhh! Oh, Alex, yessss!”
His mouth descended on hers as he thrust deep within her warm sweetness. He moved upon her with maddening slowness, teasing her lovingly until Velvet sank her teeth into his muscular shoulder to ease some of her swiftly roused passion.
“Vixen! My hot, honeyed little vixen,”
he crooned.
Amid the tangle of her bunched-up skirts, she strove to meet his every downward stroke. She almost laughed remembering how fearful she had been of this marvelous part of marriage. Then she wondered if all women craved the loving their husbands gave them or if she were indeed the wanton he teased her about being. But suddenly it didn’t matter, for she was being swept up in the powerful and magnificent storm that their lovemaking created. With a soft cry she clung fiercely to him as their rapture built in intensity until finally the raging fire between them hurled both Alex and Velvet into an exquisite world of perfect pleasure from which neither was anxious to return too quickly.
“Ah, lass,”
he finally said, “never will there ever be another woman for me but thee. I adore ye!”
“And I thee, my lord husband, my beloved lover!”
she responded.
They lay quietly for a time, entwined together upon their bed. The shadows of late afternoon lengthened, and soon the room was dim. Finally Velvet said softly, “ ’Tis another gown you owe me, my lord, and I’ll have it before we return to Scotland.”
He laughed lazily. “Ye’re well worth the price of a new gown, lass.”
Then he leaned over her and kissed her bared breasts again with slow, warm kisses.
Velvet felt a delicious tingle race down her spine, but then she caught at his hair and pulled his head away. “Oh, no, Alex! You’re forgetting the queen’s masque!”
“To hell with the queen’s masque,”
he muttered and captured a pert nipple between his teeth, worrying it gently.
“No! No!”
she fussed at him, laughing now and helpless in the face of her own rising desires.
“Yes,”
he insisted. “We’ve time for one more sweet tumble, madame, before I must dress myself in some silly fanciful garb and dance the evening away simply to amuse an aging queen.”
“Alex! You must not speak so against the queen!”
“Aye, lass, ye’re right,”
he said, and blew softly in her ear as his strong hands caressed her breasts and moved down to stroke her silken belly. Then his mouth found hers once more in kiss after long, sweet kiss until Velvet’s lips ached with his loving. His body hovered over hers but a moment and then he was entering her gently.
She sighed deeply, her hands frantically clutching his back as he moved upon her. She could feel him within her, loving her fiercely and strongly, his hardness fanning a fire that raged totally out of control. The queen’s majesty, the queen’s masque, the coming trip to Scotland were all forgotten in the midst of their passion.
Once again Alex and Velvet lay together sated with their love, but this time a knock came upon the door. “My lady! My lady!”
called Pansy. “I must bring the bath or else you will be late.”
“That bloody wench has no proper sense of timing or of decency,”
grumbled Alex. “If Dugald weren’t so taken with her I should leave her behind!”
“Nay,”
said Velvet, laughing, “you wouldn’t. She means much to me, and well you know it.”
She sat up. “Quickly, Alex, help me get out of the ruins you’ve made of my gown. Pansy will be far less shocked to see me in a chamber robe at this time of day than to witness the tatters you’ve made of my bodice.”
Alex made a noise that to his wife sounded as if he were quite pleased with this afternoon’s work and not in the least repentent. With swift hands he undid her gown, his fingers teasing mischievously, and chortled gleefully as she frowned at him and slapped his hands away.
“Where shall we hide it?”
He grinned at her, holding up the rags that had been her gown.
Velvet looked frantically about the room, and then, leaping off the bed, she stuffed the unfortunate garment into a small trunk by the window. Then, turning, she grinned saucily at him. “I’ll give it to the sewing woman tomorrow so that she may repair it if that’s possible.”
She laughed again, seeing the dangerous look smoldering in his eyes as he gazed upon her nudity.
“Put something on this instant and let Pansy into the room, lass, or I’ll not be responsible for my actions!”
he threatened.
“The bath water is here,”
called Pansy through the door. Velvet opened another small trunk and drew forth a chamber robe. “Open the door, Alex,”
she said. Her beautiful green eyes were sparkling with mirth, and he gritted his teeth in frustration, for he found to his amazement that despite their two couplings he wanted her once again.
With a gusty sigh, he crossed the room and opened the door to admit Pansy and several footmen who came in bearing jars of hot water for his wife’s bath. There was no way for him to avoid taking her to court tonight. It was the last of the pre-Lenten festivities and after midnight all would be fasting and solemnity for the next six weeks. He grimaced. The queen, sharp-eyed female that she was, would know precisely who came and who did not. Since he had already obtained her gracious permission to remove his wife to Scotland before Easter, Alex knew he was bound to put in an appearance tonight with Velvet by his side. The queen could rescind her permission as easily as she had given it.
“Is my lady the only one to get hot water?”
he growled surlily at the footmen and then stamped off into his own bedchamber.
Her tub filled to the brim and its warm steam smelling sweetly of gillyflowers, Velvet removed her chamber robe once the footmen had departed and settled herself daintily in, sighing happily.
“Did you get your tub, my lord?”
she inquired of him in sugared tones through the open door that connected their rooms.
“I got what hot water was left over, and ’twas precious little at that, but ’twill serve, madame,”
he responded sourly.
“My tub is simply delicious.”
Velvet purred. “I think I shall soak awhile.”
She splashed delicately and sighed noisily.
“No soaking!”
His voice was outraged. There was but three inches of water in his own tub, and he was already chilled. “We’ll be late if ye soak, and ye know how Her Majesty dislikes tardiness. I’ll not get on her bad side now!”
“If we’re late,”
teased Velvet, “I shall tell Her Majesty ’twas all your fault, and I shall tell her just how you kept me dallying the afternoon away, my lord.”
He laughed aloud, his mirth warm with the memory of their long and lovely afternoon of lovemaking. “If ye tell on us, madame, we’ll never be allowed back at Elizabeth Tudor’s court again. Are ye prepared to spend yer lifetime at Dun Broc? Not, mind ye, that I should mind that.”
Velvet returned his laughter. “God, no!”
she said with deep feeling.
“Then I suggest, madame,”
he replied with a chuckle, “that ye hurry yerself or else prepare to spend a lifetime in the Highlands.”
Pansy grinned at her mistress conspiratorily, and Velvet chuckled as her tiring woman bent to scrub her back. Two little undermaids fussed and bustled about the room laying out the clothing that their lady would wear tonight. Her silken, lace-trimmed underthings, exquisitely perfumed, were spread upon the bed. Her silk stockings, in a gold-and-silver diamond pattern, were carefully placed next to her petticoats. Lastly her gown was brought forth and laid across a chair. It was a magnificent confection of cloth of silver and silver lace. The bodice was sewn all over with transparent green amber in a pattern of waving ferns and butterflies, and the sleeves of the gown were lush with silver lace.
Velvet stepped from her tub and was enveloped in a large bath sheet. Seating herself next to the fire, she sat patiently while the two little undermaids dried her and Pansy brushed her dark auburn hair with a perfumed brush. Then she arose and was dressed by the three servants. Bending, she drew her garters up each leg, admiring the large silver butterflies with the green antennae on each.
“Ain’t they shockingly wonderful!”
enthused Pansy. “ ’Tis almost a pity you can’t show them.”
“Only to his lordship if I plan to get us safely to Dun Broc.”
She looked at her tiring woman. “Do you mind that we will live in Scotland, Pansy? Our new home is to be deep in the country far from the Stewart court. ’Twill be most dull, I’ve not a doubt. Perhaps you would prefer to remain in service here in England.”
“Nay, m’lady! Like you I’m used to the country, having grown up at Queen’s Malvern with you. London is exciting, I’ll admit, but I prefer a quieter, more stable life. Dugald is seeking me hand in marriage, and he’s a good man. I couldn’t do better.”
“I would hope that you love him if you would marry him, Pansy,”
said Velvet softly.
Pansy smiled happily. “Aye,”
she admitted. “I love the rogue!”
Then she turned on the two undermaids. “Speak a word of what I’ve said this evening, and you’ll not live to see the spring, either of you! I’ll not have that Dugald knowing all me feelings!”
Both of the two other servant girls nodded vigorously in agreement with Pansy. “Aye,”
said the one called Sarah. “It don’t do for a man to get too sure of you. I’ll speak nay a word, Mistress Pansy, and neither will Millie. Will you, Millie?”
The girl named Millie shook her head. “Nay,”
she said. “I’ll not chatter.”
Velvet was now ready for her gown to be put on, and Pansy spoke sharply to the others. “Don’t stand there dawdling! Bring m’lady’s dress this instant!”
The gown was brought, and within a few moments Velvet stood gazing at her reflection in the tall pier glass. Her costume, she decided, was a triumph, and she preened, a small smile upon her face. Her breasts were dangerously close to bursting over the silver lace that edged her bodice. About her neck and spilling onto her chest was a magnificent necklace of transparent green amber and yellow diamonds that had matching earbobs. Pansy had brushed Velvet’s hair back so that it hung loose down her back, and above her left ear the maid affixed an arrangement of silver roses.
“M’lady, your jewel case,”
said Pansy, holding open a box filled with rings.
Velvet paused a moment, thinking that this time last year she had nothing in the way of jewels, and now she was the proud possessor of several cases of necklaces, earbobs, bracelets, rings, pins, and various other geegaws. Alex enjoyed showering her with beautiful jewels. Then, a tiny frown of concentration between her brows, she chose several rings: a yellow diamond, an emerald, a violet-blue spinel, and a large creamy pearl. She quickly slipped these on her elegant fingers.
“Madame, ye’re magnificent!”
She turned to find that her husband had entered the room. He was garbed in red velvet from his head to his toes, his doublet embroidered with gold beads in a geometric pattern.
“You, milord, are also magnificent!”
She returned his compliment with feeling, thinking how damnably handsome he was and how very much she had grown to love him.
“ ’Tis a pity we must go, isn’t it?”
he teased her, his amber eyes warm with love.
Velvet sighed. “Aye, ’tis a pity, but ’twould be a greater pity to disappoint my godmother, the queen, who has been so very loving and good to us both.”
Her eyes were modestly downcast, and he chuckled at her demure demeanor.
“Very well, madame, then go we must, but ’twill be on yer head if I have a dull evening.”
“Then I need not fear, milord, for you never have dull evenings. We shall be at court but a few minutes before you’ll be totally surrounded by giggling, giddy women who barely tolerate my existence. I have watched you, sir, and you become like a pampered, fat tomcat under such attention. Nay, ’twill be no dull evening for you!”
“Nor ye either, madame,”
he countered. “If I am surrounded by the ladies, ye’re as quickly surrounded by the men.”
She laughed merrily, knowing his jealousy. Pansy placed a full-length cloth-of-silver cape lined in sable about her mistress as Dugald came through the connecting door with his master’s cape and bonnet. Then together the Earl and Countess of BrocCairn departed for Greenwich in their comfortable barge, for although it was cold, the river was not yet frozen over and a channel was open. Fur robes were tucked about them, and hot bricks wrapped in flannel were placed at their feet.
Velvet loved traveling on the river, and she settled back comfortably as their barge glided along. The sun had just sunk, and slightly to their right they were treated to the magnificent orange-and-gold traces of the winter sunset above which, in the darkening evening sky, shone one clear, pristine star. The Thames flowed calmly about them, smooth and dark, for it was that short period between the ebb and flood tides, and the BrocCairn barge cleaved the waters neatly, leaving virtually no wake behind it. There was no wind at all, and wrapped snugly beneath the fur robes neither of the Gordons felt the February cold.
“Are ye still distressed about leaving for Scotland?”
he asked her quietly.
“Nay, not really,”
she answered. “It is true that I wanted to see my parents before we left England, but since they arranged our marriage in the first place, they can have no objections that we have wed in their absence. Besides”—and here a small smile played at the corners of Velvet’s mouth—“ ’tis past time we had a child, milord, don’t you think?”
His mouth fell open in surprise at this sudden change in her attitude. “Dammit, lass, isn’t that what I’ve been saying all along to ye?”
he demanded.
“Aye, milord, but then it wouldn’t do for the heir of BrocCairn to be born in England, would it?”
“Once again, madame,”
he grumbled at her, “ye drive me to the point of violence. Tell me, though, ye’re sure now about not waiting for yer parents?”
“I have thought long on it, Alex,”
she said, “and I have decided that if they are still spry enough to travel thousands of miles to India, then Scotland will be but a tiny trip for them to make in order to see us and our children.”
Her gloved hand slipped into his and she squeezed it. Then she turned her head and, gazing up at him, smiled happily. “I think I am beginning to grow up, Alex, and I want to go home.”
He felt a lump deep in the base of his throat, which he quickly swallowed back. At the same time he felt great relief surge through his entire being. He wanted her to love Scotland, and most of all he wanted her to love Dun Broc , which would be her home from now on. He loved her too much to have been able to bear the thought of her being unhappy. Now it seemed that his prayers had been answered.
He also had the strong urge to put her over his knee and spank her bottom until it was pink. She had driven him mad with her stubbornness these past months, ever since their very first meeting. All this emotion was very visible in his face, and Velvet, gazing adoringly at her husband, couldn’t restrain the tiny giggle that slipped forth.
“Lass, ye try me sorely,”
he growled low at her, “but damn me if I don’t love ye to the point of distraction.”
“I seem to be afflicted with the same malaise, milord. Besides, London out of season is dreadfully dull, I am told.”
He laughed, unable to contain himself. “So, Velvet de Marisco Gordon, Countess of BrocCairn, ye go adventuring to Scotland to ease yer boredom, do ye?”
“And my curiosity,”
she teased him back. “Ever since you arrived in England last spring, Alex, you’ve been anxious to return to your precious Scotland, even to the point of kidnapping me! I am curious to see what lies beyond Edinburgh that draws you so.”
“Dun Broc is what draws me, lass, and I hope ye’ll love it! Ah, Velvet, my love, the forested mountains surround us, and the castle perches like a gyrfalcon on the crest of a high hill. Even on days when there are mists in the glen below, the heights on which we stand are clear, for Dun Broc soars with the eagles!”
She felt a small thrill run through her at his words, for his deep love of his home was so obvious. “I am sure I will love it, Alex,”
she said sincerely. “How can I not, for it was from Dun Broc that you sprang and from Dun Broc that you came into my life.”
She loved him! With a sudden burst of clarity it penetrated his bemused brain. She really loved him! She actually loved him! His head dipped to find her sweet, sweet lips, and they kissed passionately for a long, tender moment.
As their mouths parted he gazed deeply into her emerald eyes, and Velvet realized that now he finally knew and understood her heart, which came close to bursting with her gladness. For the life of her she couldn’t comprehend why she had been resisting him all these months.
“Greenwich, milord,”
their bargeman called, and ahead of them they could see the gaily twinkling lights of the palace.