A Woman of Passion (28 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

BOOK: A Woman of Passion
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Bess awakened, terrified. The room was empty, stripped bare. She ran downstairs and found the bailiffs carrying off everything she possessed in the world. She begged, pleaded, and cried, all to no avail. Outside, her meager belongings were being piled on a cart. She had been put out of the house and had nowhere to go. Fear washed over her in great waves. Panic choked her. When she turned around, the cart was gone, the Greys were gone, even Bradgate had vanished. Bess had lost everything she had in the world. The terror mounted until it engulfed her, the waves of fear almost drowned her. The hollow, empty feeling inside her belly was like ravenous hunger, only worse; her baby was gone! She was overwhelmed with helplessness, hopelessness.

Bess sat up in bed, awakened by her own scream. The darkness closed in about her, terrifying her. Her hand flew to her belly in a protective gesture, then with trembling fingers she lit the bedside candles. Relief washed over her; everything was as it should be. It was only the old recurring nightmare. She drew up her knees and put her head down, waiting for her heart to stop hammering, waiting for the fear to go away.

Bess lifted her head as her door slowly opened. Her heart slammed against her ribs as Cavendish came in. Was she still dreaming? A great tide of anger swept
through her, dousing her fear. “Get out! How dare you enter my chamber? Get out, you swine!” She looked for something to throw at him, and her hand closed about the candelabra.

He saw her intent and closed the distance between them. “Bess, it's me, it's William.”

“I know who it is, for Christ's sake; only you would have the bare-faced gall!”

“What the devil is the matter?” he demanded, reaching out a comforting hand to stroke her hair.

Bess jerked her head away. “Don't touch me!” she cried.

Cavendish stood staring down at her. What in God's name had made her change her mind? It could only be the age difference. She was barely nineteen, while he would never see his fortieth birthday again.

“It is the middle of August!” she flung at him. “I haven't seen you since the last day of June! Once I yielded to you, you abandoned me!” She was panting with fury.

“Abandoned you? My own love, how could you think such an absurd thought? Surely, you never doubted me, Bess? I swore on my life I would never let you down again. I thought our trust in each other was absolute. It has been only seven weeks—hardly a decent mourning period, and I've been so busy, the days have flown past. I sold the old house and bought you a new one from our friend William Parr. I assumed you and Frances would be up to your eyes in plans.”

“Plans?” Bess said angrily.

“You have such definite ideas about the way you want things. You have a mind of your own and so much strength of purpose, I didn't dare make wedding plans for you.”

“You never once asked me to wed you!” she accused.

“Well, I'm asking you now. Would you like a festive Christmas wedding, sweetheart?”

“Christmas?” Bess was so dismayed, she slapped his face and burst into tears.

He took her into his arms and held her close. “Bess, what's wrong?”

“I'm having a baby,” she whispered.

His powerful arms tightened around her. “Oh, my precious love, no wonder you feel abandoned.” He rocked her gently and stroked her hair. He always thought of her as so self-assured, yet beneath her confident facade she was a mass of insecurities. He drew aside the covers. “Come on, get dressed.”

“Why?” She pulled away.

“We're going to get married.”

“I wouldn't marry you, Rogue Cavendish, if you were the last man breathing!” Bess said stubbornly.

“You will do as I bid!”

“It's the middle of the night!” she protested.

“What in the world of God does that have to do with anything? We'll rouse the bloody priest out of his bed and give Frances something to talk about. Now, are you going to get dressed or will I carry you down in your shift?”

Rogue's eyes were filled with such a teasing light, Bess knew he was capable of doing such a thing. She padded to the wardrobe. “Whatever shall I wear? I want to look beautiful.”

“You always look beautiful.” He had more good sense than to suggest what a woman should wear. “Hurry, I'll be back for you very shortly,” he warned.

Bess chose a cream silk gown whose sleeves were slashed with jade. She pulled on stockings and fastened
them with jade garters. Gone was her lethargy; suddenly, she was bursting with energy and her heart was singing. When Frances arrived Bess apologized for the late hour.

“It's only two o'clock; I hadn't gone to bed yet. I've brought Cecily to do your hair. Everyone in London will be foaming at the mouth to have missed this. Cavendish is a madman; what on earth is his hurry?”

“I'll tell you what's the hurry,” William said from the doorway. Bess threw him such a desperate glance, his heart went out to her. “She's refused me again. No bedding without a wedding—what's a lusty man to do?”

Bess suddenly realized that it was August 20, the same date she had been evicted from Hardwick. A lump came into her throat. This was her fateful day, when either bad or good things could happen—things that would alter her life. She smiled through her tears and gave William her hand.

By the time they made their way to the chapel, Henry and the priest were awaiting them. Bess was surprised to find the seats filled with the Grey's noble guests. Sir John Port, who had recently been knighted at the young king's coronation, and his wife, Lady Port, were there, along with her family, the Fitzherberts. Also present was Sir John's daughter and her husband, the Earl of Hunting-don, and their friends the Earl and Countess of West-morland. Bess was amazed that William was on intimate terms with so many noble families and shrewdly guessed that it must be because of his position in the treasury.

As Bess stood beside William to exchange their vows, she felt that her heart might burst with joy. When William slipped a diamond wedding ring onto her third finger, all her doubts about his wanting to make her his wife disappeared forever. When they were pronounced man
and wife, and Bess realized that at last she was Lady Cavendish, she was giddy with happiness.

The company hurried back to the hall, showering the newlyweds with rose petals that some enterprising guest had plucked from the gardens. When they arrived, the musicians were already playing their instruments and Bradgate's liveried servants were rushing about, providing food and wine for the celebration.

They danced until the sun came up, then William picked up his bride and carried her off to a hastily prepared bridal suite, where William firmly closed and locked the door, depriving the avid guests of the bedding they had been anticipating.

“My darling, when I told you to get dressed, I didn't mean for you to put on so many layers.”

“Did you expect to find me naked beneath my gown?”

“That's how I pictured you,” he said thickly, trying to undo the fastenings of her petticoat.

“In the chapel?” She pretended to be shocked.

“I would have laid you naked on the altar if we'd been alone. I've been starving for you.”

She brushed her breasts against him and decided to tease him. “But it's been only seven weeks; you told me yourself the days had flown past.” She danced away from him and left him holding her petticoat.

“The nights were sheer torture!” He came after her.

“Torture? You don't know the meaning of the word. Shall I teach you?” She inched up her shift, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of red-gold curls, then let it fall again.

“Cockteaser!”

The corners of her mouth went up. “I'm going to tease your cock until you beg.”

He threw her a wicked grin and began to fling off his clothes. He stood naked before her in rampant splendor.

“I suspect you are hot for me.” He lunged toward her and caught her. His hand dipped beneath the hem of her shift and a finger deftly stroked her cleft. “Scalding-hot and wet”—he licked his finger—“my little honeypot.”

She eluded him, but instead of running away, she walked a direct path to the big bed, while he watched her from beneath lids heavy with desire. Bess reclined against the pillows. “Do you like honey?” Her voice was sultry. She dipped her finger into her own honeypot and touched her nipples with the sweetness.

She was so splendidly uninhibited, William found her allure impossible to resist; it was impossible for him to leave her untasted. He came to the bed and rose above her, hungrily feasting his eyes where his mouth would follow. He knew he would love her all his days. He could hardly believe that at last the prize was his. Not only was Bess beautiful, sensual, and passionate, she was also clever, witty, and shrewd. He vowed that he would devote himself to her and love her enough to banish her insecurities and turn her into the confident woman she pretended to be. They remained in seclusion for two whole days and nights before Rogue Cavendish could bear to share her with anyone else.

Bess couldn't wait to take William to Derbyshire and show him off to her family.

“Why don't we surprise them?” William suggested.

“I wouldn't dare descend upon them with anyone as grand as Sir William Cavendish without giving them fair warning.”

“Me, grand?” he teased. “You are the grand lady.”

“Oh, I know,” Bess said happily.

Since William loved hunting and the game was plentiful in Leicestershire, the Greys arranged a hunt for their guests. Bess accompanied William for the first couple of
hours, then retired back to Bradgate to write a letter to her mother. With a flourish, she signed
Lady Elizabeth Cavendish
, flushing with pride as she gazed down at her new signature for the first time.

They traveled to Derbyshire in William's big black carriage with the Cavendish stags emblazoned upon it. William insisted she couldn't go home empty-handed, so they made their first stop in the city of Leicester, where Bess indulged her love of shopping and bought presents for everyone in her family.

William had never in his life seen a family so excited as Bess's when the newlyweds arrived at Hardwick Manor. He soon realized that Bess was as special to them as she was to him. To his great consternation they were deeply in awe of him, and he had to set about making them feel at ease in his company.

Aunt Marcella Linaker was the exception, of course. She had never been in awe of any man breathing, and William won her over immediately. Soon his laughter echoed through the lovely but shabby manor house, and his easygoing ways encouraged Bess's family to seek out and enjoy his company.

William's manservant, James Cromp, had to share a bedroom with the coach driver, and the only one available was next to Bess and William's chamber. When they retired Bess put her finger to her lips and pointed to the wall. “I know James is privy to some of our secrets, but I don't want your servants to hear every shocking detail of our lovemaking. You'll have to behave yourself.”

“Me?” he teased. “My lovemaking is always circumspect. You're the one who will have to behave, Lady Cavendish.”

She went into his arms and bit his earlobe. “Well, I
won't behave; I'll just go about the whole thing silently.” She was a constant source of delight and amusement to her new husband, and he adored her.

The Hardwick farm covered five hundred acres, and as they rode about it, William pointed out to her many improvements that could be made and various ways of making extra money, such as enclosing some of the moors for sheep runs. Bess hung on her husband's every word, for no man in England knew more about land and property and few had his eye for money-making opportunities. That night she passed the advice on to her brother, James, hoping against hope he would become a better businessman and make Hardwick start to pay.

The following day they planned a visit to the Leches. Bess's sister Alice, married to Francis Leche and living at Chatsworth, was expecting her first child. Bess told her family they could use the Cavendish coach, because she and William were going to ride to Chatsworth.

She had told William long ago about her favorite place in the world, and when they drew rein at the top of the fell and looked down on Chatsworth, William understood why she was so enamored of it. It was truly a spectacular piece of land, encircled by the gentle River Derwent, a small, fertile Eden set down amidst the high peaks and wild moors of Derbyshire countryside. It was the perfect, ideal landscape seen in classical paintings.

William watched her face as she gazed down, enraptured. He recognized the hungry look; she got it when she looked at him sometimes. “The house is in the wrong place.” He pointed his riding crop. “It should be over there.”

Bess looked at him in wonder. “That's exactly right! Oh, William, we are so alike in our thinking. This piece
of land deserves a magnificent palace-of-a-house. The outer park should stretch all the way into Sherwood Forest and be filled with deer and pheasant. The inner gardens should be formal and stately, with waterways and fountains. Such grandeur and order set in the midst of this howling wilderness would stagger the senses!”

The rapt look of longing on her face staggered William's senses. He dismounted and held up his arms to her. “I want to make love to you.”

Bess asked no questions. She knew he felt the passion she experienced over Chatsworth and that he wanted to be a part of it. She came down to him in a flurry of petticoats. “How fortunate I'm wearing green, and the best part is we don't have to behave ourselves out here. We can cry our pleasure to the highest peaks.”

Bess couldn't wait to return to London and begin her new life. She made her mother, aunt, and sisters promise to visit her. Cavendish helped James Cromp load their luggage so that Bess could say her good-byes in private. Her mother embraced her. “Bess, you have so much courage. Marcella was right when she insisted you were the one who must go to London.”

Bess wiped away a tear. Courage? If only they knew how terrified she had been just a short time ago. “William is my strength.”

Marcella shook her head. “No, Bess, the strength and the courage are yours. You knew what you wanted, and you went after it. You set your goal so high, and now you have achieved it.”

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