A Woman of Passion (57 page)

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Authors: Virginia Henley

BOOK: A Woman of Passion
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Bess was speechless.
He thinks I'm noble! Thank God he doesn't know I was on my way here to beg him to take me back!

He cupped her face and lifted it for a kiss. Then his glance was drawn lower. “You look ravishing, Vixen.” The backs of his fingers stroked down her cheek and over the curve of her throat and over the swell of her breasts.
Thank God she came with me. I almost had heart failure when I saw her all dressed up for London.
His fingers unfastened the tiny pearl buttons, and her lush breasts spilled into his possessive hands. Their desire flared up instantly, threatening to consume them.

Bess glanced down at the wide polished surface of the desk, assessing its possibilities. How many titled ladies had lain naked across this massive desk in the Sheffield library? None, she'd be willing to bet. “Shrew, as Countess of Shrewsbury, I'd like to set a precedent!”

EPILOGUE

Summer 1567

T
he Earl of Shrewsbury had taken his mining engineer to Hardwick to find out if the land held any more valuable coal deposits. Bess lingered in front of her beloved old home, which was now empty. As her husband rode up the dusty path, his eyes were drawn to her. She was almost forty, but in her pale green muslin, she still looked like a young girl. He knew he loved her more every day.

“Who are you talking to, my beauty?”

“I'm talking to Hardwick Manor.”

“Do you suppose it can hear you?” he asked quizzically.

“Of course. I'm telling it all the fine plans I have for it.”

Laughing, Shrewsbury bent down and lifted her before him in the saddle. “Suppose you tell me,” he suggested indulgently, slipping possessive arms about her.

“I'm going to make Hardwick the most beautiful house in all England. It will be the envy of all who see it!”

“What about Chatsworth?”

Bess laughed. “Oh, I just built that for practice. Hardwick Hall will eclipse it in every way.”

“Hardwick
Hall
, is it?” he teased. “What about poor old Hardwick Manor?”

“Oh, I shan't pull it down. It will be the heart of the new house. I want Hardwick to be a glorious celebration of light and happiness. I intend to build a fairy-tale palace of glass, with its towers touching the clouds!”

“Towers?” Shrewsbury was bemused.

“Yes … six of them! I was six when my family was evicted from Hardwick.”

Shrewsbury suddenly realized the motive that was driving her to transmute the shabby manor into an elegant palace that would be beyond compare. It was the same passionate ambition that had transformed a farmer's daughter into a countess. His arms tightened about her. She was vibrant, self-confident, invincible almost, and yet the seeds of insecurity still lay buried within. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, he wanted to make her laugh. “Of course, you intend to emblazon your noble monogram across this great mansion?”

“Oh, Shrew, what a marvelous idea! On top of each tower I shall have my initials in six-foot-high solid stone.”

Shrewsbury laughed. “My darling, I was jesting!”

“Don't you dare laugh at me. The queen puts her bloody Elizabeth Regina on everything in sight. I'm a Talbot now, and everyone knows the Talbots are far more noble than the Tudors—we are descended from Plantagenets, don't you know?”

Her husband shook with laughter, but Bess blithely ignored him. “I see nothing amusing about letting future
generations know that Hardwick Hall was built by Elizabeth, Countess of Shrewsbury.”

He nuzzled her neck, and his thumbs moved up to stroke beneath the swell of her breasts. “I am reputed to be the wealthiest man in England, but I can see you are determined to beggar me before you are done.”

Her sultry laugh rang out happily. “I shall certainly try my very best, you black devil!”

A
UTHOR'S
N
OTE

Bess Hardwick lived to be over eighty years old. The two magnificent houses that she built, Chatsworth, “The Palace of the Peaks,” and Hardwick Hall, “More Glass than Wall,” are among the finest examples of Britain's stately homes, which can still be visited today.

Through her Cavendish children, Bess founded a dynasty that included her granddaughter, Arbella Stuart, the earls and dukes of Devonshire, the dukes of Portland, the duke of Newcastle, the earls of Burlington, and the marquess of Hartington, who married Kathleen Kennedy, sister of President John F. Kennedy.

Don't miss Virginia Henley's new hardcover romantic novel

THE MARRIAGE PRIZE

The third book in the medieval Plantagenet trilogy which began with

THE FALCON AND THE FLOWER
and continued in

THE DRAGON AND THE JEWEL.

COMING IN JULY 2000
from Delacorte Press

ISLAND BOOKS
Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Hand lettering by David Gath

Insert art by Lynn Sanders

Copyright © 1999 by Virginia Henley

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. For information address: Delacorte Press, New York, New York.

Dell® is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc., and the colophon is a trademark of Random House, Inc.

eISBN: 978-0-307-56855-7

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