FLAME OF DESIRE (31 page)

Entering the room, Richard saw her standing by the window deep in thought, her hair billowing around her shoulders, her head thrown back to reveal the slim column of her neck. He had a longing to make love to her right then, but just cleared his throat to make her aware of his presence.

“Red wine and red roses,” he said as she turned around. “I had the devil’s own time finding them at this time of year. All the other bushes were bare, and yet, there these  were on a bush behind the inn, as if waiting for me to pluck them for you.”

She was deeply touched by his gift, remembering the other time he had made her such an offering. Somehow that time seemed long ago, ages ago, when in fact it had been only a few weeks. Roses would, from this day forth, always be a reminder to her of trust. She would always trust him and love him.

Sitting down to eat, Heather eyed the dishes before her: beaten eggs with herbs—tansy, mint, sage, parsley, and ginger; a roast gull basted in honey; spiced milk; bread; fig pudding; and an assortment of fruits—apples, plums and pears.

“Heavens,” she exclaimed with a laugh. “If I eat all of this, I will grow fat as a toad.”

“Fat or thin, I would love you,” he answered, taking a seat opposite her. The food was delicious and as they ate, they talked. There was much that each needed to hear and to say.

“How did you know where to find me?” was Heather’s first question. “I thought I would faint when you broke into the church that way. My hero. Always you will be my hero.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “When I came back to London, I went right away to court with the intention of telling you how much I love you. Finding you gone, I nearly went wild with worry. Then Stephen told me that you were gone and that you were to be married to Seton. My worry turned to rage. If Seton had been before me at that moment, I would have killed him with my bare hands.”

“And I would have cheered you on.”

“I went to your house but found it empty. All the time a voice was shouting in my ear that I was too late, that you were married to that bastard. I didn’t know where to go, where to turn, and then, as if fate was on my side, a little old woman started jabbering to me about the wedding procession that had just passed by a few moments before. ‘Such a lovely red-haired bride,’ she said. She pointed in the direction of the chapel and I rode as fast as I could to try to stop the ceremony. It makes me tremble to think that I might have been too late.”

“But you weren’t, and now we are together.” Reaching out, she clasped his hand with hers. “We have our whole lives before us.”

He told her then about his mission to Canterbury and about his brother, Roderick. “He is to be ordained a priest there, although there are those who have called him by that name already. Brother Stephen is the name he has chosen, after that Stephen who was stoned to death because of his faith. After he is ordained I will have to get used to calling him Father.”

Heather realized how little she knew about this man she loved, and with an eager frenzy to know everything about him, she questioned him as they ate. There had been three children, two sons and a daughter. Richard’s sister Elizabeth had died of a fever.

“Seton has always claimed to be my father’s son, but I don’t know. I just don’t know. There is nothing of my father that I can see in his face, and yet it is not an uncommon thing for a man to seek love outside of marriage.”

At his words, Heather turned pale. “No, I don’t suppose it is,” she murmured. Quickly he was at her side to gather her into his arms.

“It was not the same thing, my love. I love you. I would marry you in an instant if only I were free. My father only lusted after other women, although after tasting my mother’s treachery, perhaps I cannot blame him.”

“Your mother, is she….?”

“She is dead. She died early this summer. Her gluttony was the cause of her demise. A chicken bone caught in her throat and she choked to death. How outraged she would have been at such a death. But let us speak no more of her, let us talk of much pleasanter subjects.” He told her the tale of his brother’s valor at the inn, and she laughed to think of a priest swinging his staff with such force that he could overcome three men.

“How surprised they must have been.”

“Aye. He took them completely unawares. Roderick has always been one slow to anger, but when aroused, he is a tiger.” He laughed, remembering all the antics of the young brother he had grown up with.

“What does he look like?” This priest had piqued her interest. As Richard’s only living relative she was eager to meet him.

“He looks a great deal like me, without the beard of course. Same blue eyes and dark hair, but he has a small indentation in his chin that I do not have.” Pulling at his beard, he winked at her. “I will see that you soon meet him, but what of your life?”

Heather told him about her lonely childhood, and about her constant intuition that the man she knew as her father might not truly be her sire. “And he is not, Richard. In a fit of anger he told me that I am not his daughter.”

“Not his daughter?”

“No. He said my father is a man named de Vega. To think that all this time I have been half Spanish and didn’t even know it. Perhaps that is why my mother insisted that I learn Spanish.” She sighed. “My father was an explorer. Someday I will look for him and find him.  He has much to answer for.” Reaching for her wine, she tasted of its warmth, though it was not any more intoxicating than were his kisses.

“Perhaps I can help you find him.” Holding up his glass, he said, “To the future, to our happiness, and to our love.” They drained the goblets dry and Richard set about clearing the table, calling on of the young men who had brought water for the bath to take the things. “And ask the innkeeper if perchance he has a harp.”

“A harp?” Heather asked with a whimsical smile.

He gathered her into his arms, stroking the soft skin of her back. “I intend to sing to you. You bring out the romantic side of me.” His mouth traveled to where the pulse beat rapidly in the hollow of her throat, and his hands cupped the full swell of her breasts, fondling them until Heather felt once again the ache of desire.

“You have turned me into a wanton, I fear, my lord,” she whispered.

He answered by kissing her, moving his hand along the indentation of her waist, holding her closer as the evidence of his own desire pressed against her. At last, leading her to the bed, he drew her down upon its softness with him, and whispering words of endearment, made gentle love to her once more. He watched her eyes as he brought himself within her, saw the wonder written upon her face that anything could be this sweet, and he knew within his heart that he would love her forever.

Chapter Forty-Three

The next five days were spent in loving, drinking, eating, talking and loving again. The world had ceased to exist for them, so caught up were they in their love. There was so much they wanted to know about each other, opening up their hearts, their minds, and their souls.

With each day their fears of Seton diminished and their lovemaking grew sweeter as Richard taught Heather all the ways to please him as well as how to enjoy and respond to his touch. Always there was an exploding sensation, a wild passion between them. He aroused feelings in her that no other man could ever possibly awaken, and she knew instinctively that it was the same for him.

They hardly left their room except when it was absolutely necessary. There was always the chance that Seton could be lurking about, and besides they relished this world of their own. Once when Heather had been listening to the sounds of the courtyard below, standing at the open window, she had heard words which made her blush.

“How long have they been upstairs now?” asked a male voice.

“Five days. Nearly a week,” came a woman’s answer, no doubt the innkeeper’s wife.

“Has anyone seen them?”

“Hardly anyone. They are in a world of their own.”

“Do you suppose they are all right?”

Deep giggles of feminine laughter. “They are all right, James. Don’t you remember how it was with us once?”

Silence, and then, “Yes, I remember.”

“The boys have seen them when they bring food, drink, and water to bathe. Kit even brought up a harp.”

“A harp?”

“He sings to her. Love songs. Ah, to be young again.”

Heather smiled now as she remembered the words. They had been at the Rose and Thorn almost a week, and in all that time, Richard Morgan had proven to be the perfect lover. With him the sun was suddenly brighter; the grass was greener, the air more fragrant, the rain and mist a cloak of enchantment. She had never been happier, yet once in a while a thought pricked her. Could it always be this way, or would what they had done soon catch up with them?

“What are you thinking, Heather? I watched your smile turn to a frown just now.” Coming up behind her, Richard wrapped his arms around her.

“That we are just too happy. I’m afraid that somehow something will happen to end this joy. We have been able to shut out the world, but for how long?”

“Forever.” He drew her closer, as if to assure her, his hands seeking the warmth of her slim body. He thrilled to the magic, the flame that always consumed them both just at the touch of one another. How he had once laughed at the minstrels and troubadours who had sung the praises of love, and now he was throwing roses at her feet and warbling those same love sonnets.

“Where will we go, Richard? We cannot run away forever. Someday we will have to stop and turn around.”

He kissed the silken softness of her hair. “Hush, let us not think about that now. We have today. We will have to be content with that for the time being.”

He started to kiss her, but a loud knock on the door cooled their passion and sparked their fears.

“Who in blazes can that be? I paid a good price to ensure that we would not be found. I have not asked for food or drink. Then who?”

Heather’s hands trembled. What if it were Hugh Seton? What if he had found out their whereabouts?

“Richard. Richard, are you in there?” came a voice. Heather’s heart stopped beating for a moment, until she recognized that voice. Drawing Richard’s cloak about her shoulders, she raised an eyebrow at her lover.

“Stephen Vickery. What is he doing here?” It seemed that the world had found them sooner than they had foreseen. Walking to the door, Richard cast her a glance over his shoulder as if to reassure her, then opened the portal wide.

“Thank god I’ve found you,” the man exclaimed upon seeing Richard’s face. “I have been searching everywhere for you these last two days. Then I remembered you telling me of this inn.”

Richard looked at him in annoyance. “Obviously I did not want to be found!” He sought to block the entrance, but Stephen Vickery merely pushed him aside and smiled at Heather. “Oh, don’t be embarrassed. The story of your escapade is all over London. The queen is livid. Nothing I could say would sway her. As for myself, I am delighted, though I daresay you have incurred Seton’s wrath.”

Heather blushed as red as the doublet Vickery was wearing. “I would have rather died than marry Seton. Richard….”

“Saved you from your fate. I always knew that beneath his cool exterior was a spark of passion.” He made himself comfortable, sitting down on one of the oak chairs. “I applaud what you have both done. Too long has marriage been relegated to a matter of finance.” His eyes took on a sudden sadness. “But that reminds me why I am here. It’s Edlyn. She is ill.”

“Ill?”

“Yes, a message came for you at court. You must go home right away. If you do not, I am afraid it will compound your already compromising situation. I know you were trapped into that marriage, Richard, but she is your wife.”

“I know that. I would not want anything to happen to Edlyn. She is a harmless enough creature and I pity her. What has happened to me is no fault of hers.” He gave Heather a searching look, then asked, “Will you come with me?”

She nodded. “From now on, wherever you go, I will go.” Motioning for Stephen Vickery to turn his back, she gathered up the white velvet dress and slipping off Richard’s cloak, dressed quickly.

“The coronation was lavish and splendid,” Stephen Vickery was rattling on. “Though most eyes were turned upon Elizabeth. I’m afraid that whenever she is around poor Mary looks dowdy. I wonder just how long it will be before Renard convinces her to put her poor sister in the Tower.”

“She would never do that.”

“Perhaps not, particularly when things seem to be going her way. Secluded up here, you have most likely not heard. The council has passed two statutes. It seems that they have informed her majesty that she is no longer ‘illegitimate.’ The divorce of Henry and Catherine of Aragon is hereby invalid.”

“That must please the queen, to no longer be considered a bastard!” Richard said sarcastically. “Though now Elizabeth will be considered one again.”

“Elizabeth is wise. She will look after herself. Don’t forget the time she begged Mary to allow her to be instructed in the Catholic faith, only to pretend to have a stomachache so that she could sit through Mass with a frown upon her face, thereby assuring those of the reformed faith that she had not truly espoused Catholicism. No, she will flow with the tide.”

As Richard and Heather prepared for their journey to the North, Stephen Vickery told them all the latest rattlings of the court. “Courtenay has taken up his debauched ways again. Without you there to guide him, Heather, I fear that young man will come to ruin.”

“He must not,” she exclaimed, receiving a scathing look from Richard, still overly jealous when it came to the memory of seeing her constantly with that man.

“There are some who say that now that he has been rejected as a suitor for Mary’s hand, he schemes to marry Elizabeth.” He reached for an empty glass, pouring himself some wine and drinking it quickly. “Ha. He has little knowledge of how difficult it would be to dominate that strong-minded miss.”

Heather offered her back to Richard so that he could help her with her lacings on her petticoat and gown. The thought of seeing Edlyn, Richard’s wife, was unnerving. Still, she must go with  him and do what she could to help. With the skills she had learned from her mother, perhaps she could do something to heal the woman. The proper herbs could often accomplish what physicians could not.