Love Wild and Fair (3 page)

“Cat! I thought ye sought yer bed.” He sat down beside her.

“I like sitting alone before a fire in the dark of night,” she said.

“Do ye like Glenkirk, my love?”

“Aye,” she said slowly. “I wasna sure I would. I remember it to be bigger, but I suppose I saw it wi a child’s eyes. It’s really a lovely little castle.”

“Then ye will be happy living here?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

They sat quietly for several minutes, then Catriona spoke.

“My lord, would ye kiss me? Not like before, but a
real
kiss. I hae spoken wi both Mama and my Ellen. They say the kiss ye gave me to seal our bargain was quite proper, but—” she paused, and bit her lower lip—"but a real kiss has more substance.”

She lay back, her leaf-green eyes glittering in the firelight. Slowly he bent and touched her lips with his. Gently, gradually, he increased the pressure, and then her arms were around him.

“Ohh, my lord,” she said breathlessly when his mouth released hers. “That was ever so much better! Again, please.”

He willingly complied and, with astonishment, felt her little tongue flick along his lips. A moment later she spoke again.

“Did ye like that, my lord? Mama said the sensation is quite pleasurable.”

It suddenly came to him that she was experimenting with the things Heather had told her about, but was feeling nothing herself. Chancing her anger, he caught her in his arms and, running his hand from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine, molded her to his body. Fiercely, his mouth took possession of hers. Using all his expertise, he gently but insistently forced her lips apart. Plunging deep within her mouth, he caressed her tongue with his, and rejoiced silently when a great shudder tore through her. He could feel her rising panic as she tried to struggle, but he held her firmly until it pleased him to release her.

“Patrick,” she gasped, and burst into tears.

He gathered her up and soothed her. “There, hinny. There,” he murmured at her while his big hand stroked her lovely hair. “Dinna greet, my love.”

“Why did ye do
that?”
she demanded through her tears.

“Because, my precious little bride-to-be, ye were experimenting wi me the things yer lovely, feather-headed mother has told you. Ye did them without feeling anything yourself. Never, my sweet Cat, never make love unless ye feel it yourself.”

“I did feel it.”

“What did ye feel?” he asked.

“I felt—I felt—Oh, God’s foot! I dinna know what I felt then. I simply didn’t want ye to stop, but then I did. I was all churned up inside, and …” She stopped, confused.

He stood and helped her up. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he looked gravely down into her face. “When I was a lad of thirteen years I was formally betrothed to a wee maid of but four. After the religious ceremony was over, we were seated in a place of honor, and a servant brought refreshments. The wench’s blouse was low, and I was just beginning an interest in the female form. I could not take my eyes from those fat white bouncing boobs. Suddenly, the child by my side poured her wine into the girl’s cleavage, and scolded me roundly. I fell in love in that moment, and I have stayed in love all these years.”

She looked up at him. “I am forever hearing of your conquests. How can ye claim to love me when yer life is so full wi other women?”

“A man has special needs, Cat. If he is unmarried and has no wife to satisfy those needs, then he must seek elsewhere.”

“Do ye seek elsewhere now?” she asked.

“Especially now. Damnit, Cat! I want you! Naked in my bed wi your lovely hair in disarray crying out for love of me!”

She felt a little thrill run through her at his words, and looking up at him said, “If ye will gie up yer other women, Patrick, I will wed wi ye on St. Valentine’s Day of the new year. If ye would say good morning and good night to yer true love, then it must be adieu to all your other women.”

“Would ye dictate to me, sweetheart?”

“I will nae share ye, Patrick I will come to ye a virgin, and ye may make of me what ye will for yer pleasure. But I must be yer only love.”

“When we are wed I will consider it,” he laughed. “Now off to yer cold bed, you nagging little minx, before I lose my self-control and take away yer right to wear yer beautiful hair unbound on our wedding day.”

Giving him a pouting look, she left the room. Patrick chuckled. What a wench she was, his Cat Hay! Not yet married to him, and already trying to run his life. Well, he knew two things now. His bride was not the ice maiden he thought she might be, and life with her was certainly not going to be dull!

B
Y the following afternoon, Glenkirk Castle bulged with Leslies and Hays. Because she was to marry the earl, Catriona was spared the ordeal of the dormitory with her cousins. Fiona also escaped that fate because of her age, and because she was a widow.

Upon learning that Catriona had been at the castle for the past ten days she hurried to find her and do what mischief she could. Cat was embroidering in the family hall, and was alone. Fiona settled herself.

“Well, little cousin. How do ye like Glenkirk Castle?”

“Very much,” said Cat. “I’ll enjoy being mistress here.” She shot Fiona a wicked look.

Fiona gritted her teeth. “Yer a brave lass to go into the wolf’s maw as calmly as ye do.”

“What on earth do ye mean?”

“Lord, child! Ye must know Glenkirk’s reputation.”

“His women.” Cat feigned boredom. “God’s toenail, Fiona! Everyone knows Glenkirk’s a devil wi the lasses. Tell me something I don’t know.”

“All right, my dear, I shall.” She lowered her voice, and leaned forward. “They say that Glenkirk’s cock is too big. They say he’s built like a bull. Having been married I know, and I must pass this on to ye. We Leslie women are very tiny. A big cock can tear us asunder. Why my late husband, Lord Stewart, was of an average size, yet when he planted himself in me on our wedding night …” She paused for effect, gleefully noting Catriona’s white face. “Well, cousin! The pain was terrible, and it got worse each time. God assoil him! It was a mercy to me when Owen died!”

“But I’m a Hay, Fiona. It canna be the same wi me!”

“Yer mother was a Leslie, cousin. Daughters are fashioned after their mothers. I certainly dinna envy ye.”

Terrified, Cat repeated the conversation to Ellen. “Not so,” said Ellen firmly. “That Fiona Stewart is just trying to scare ye. There’s but a moment’s pain the first time when the virgin shield is broken. After that it’s just fine. Yer cousin is hot for the earl herself, the wicked hussy! She’s trying to frighten ye off. Little silly.” She ruffled the girl’s hair. “All yer mother does is moon after yer father. Is that the act of a woman who suffers constant pain?”

Annoyed at having been so easily spooked by her feline cousin, Cat watched Fiona to see if Ellen was right. Fiona grasped every opportunity to be near Patrick, to wear her lowest-cut gowns, to display her ample charms. The bitch, Cat thought! The red-haired bitch! She looked for her brother. Finding him, she said,

“Jemmie, tell me what ye know about Cousin Fiona.”

Jemmie snickered. “It’s said she’s overgenerous wi her favors, but I hae never gotten her into bed. They say the bairn she bore Stewart was not his. He was such a weakling it’s doubtful he ever stuck it in her.” He looked at his sister. “Ye like Glenkirk now, don’t ye, Cat?”

“Aye.”

“Then beware Cousin Fiona, for it’s plain to see she’s stalking him, though I doubt poor Glenkirk realizes it.” But Patrick was quite well aware of Fiona’s interest, and had Cat not been staying in the castle, he might even have amused himself for a bit with his hot-blooded, red-haired cousin. He knew the whispers about her were probably true, but it might be fun to confirm them.

One night just after Christmas, Fiona attempted to force the earl. With everyone else long in bed, the earl remained talking before the fire with his brother, Adam. He wanted a match between the Forbes heiress and Adam Adam, however, convinced him that their youngest brother, seventeen-year-old Michael, would be far better suited to thirteen-year-old Isabella Forbes than he.

“I want to marry soon, and not a child. Michael willna be ready to wed for three or four more years yet. By that time the Forbes lass will be ripe. Make the match between them. She’ll go mad for his handsome baby face.”

Patrick laughed. “All right, brother, but who’s the maid yer saving yerself for?”

Adam smiled, and his eyes narrowed. “I’ve nae opened my suit wi her, but I will soon.”

The brothers sat awhile longer, drinking the mulled wine special to the holiday season. Both were tall, as their father had been, but where Patrick had his mother’s dark hair and the Leslies’ green-gold eyes, Adam had the Leslies’ red hair—his was a warm russet shade—and the amber eyes of the Stewarts.

Now, warm with brotherly camaraderie and rich red wine, they climbed the stairs to their apartments. “I’ve some good whisky from old MacBean’s still,” said the earl. “Come in, lad, and hae a drop wi me. ‘Twill help ye to sleep.” He opened the door to his bedroom and walked in, his brother close behind him.

“Jesu,”
Adam gasped. On his brother’s bed, the firelight playing across her naked white body, lay Fiona Stewart. “Why, bless me, coz! Yer the sweetest sight I’ve seen tonight!”

“What the hell do ye do here?” demanded the earl, suddenly very sober and icy with rage.

“Ye wouldna come to me, Patrick,” she said softly, “so I hae come to you.”

He could smell the warm musk of her perfumed body. “I pay for my whores, Fiona. How much do ye charge?”

“Patrick!” she pleaded huskily with him. “Please! I’m mad for ye, cousin! Marry yer milksop virgin if ye must, but take me! Be my lover. Ye’ll nae regret it, Patrick!”

“By God,” said Adam dryly. “What’s yer secret, brother? I’ve yet to receive such a marvelous invitation from any woman.”

Patrick turned to his younger brother. “Ye want that?”

Adam looked back at him. “Aye. For some time now.”

“Then take it! I’ll sleep in your room tonight.”

“No!” screamed Fiona angrily. “I want you, not that boy coxcomb!”

“My dear cousin,” said the earl calmly, “from all the rumors I hear, ye hae certainly had much experience. Ye must know that making love to someone ye don’t want is not only aesthetically distasteful, but damned boring to boot.” Turning his back on her, he walked from the room.

Adam closed the door behind his brother and shot the iron bolt home with a loud thunk. “Well, Fiona luv,” he drawled lazily, “I hae been wanting to get ye in this position for some time now.”

“Go to hell,” she spat furiously at him, and standing up she tried to walk to the door.

Adam reached out and, grasping an arm, pulled her back. “Nay, hinny,” he said cruelly, crushing a pointed breast in his hand. “Nay! Tonight ye’ll spread yer legs for me!” He pushed her back onto the bed, and Fiona suddenly felt afraid.

Since she’d first been tumbled in the straw of a darkened stable at thirteen by her father’s head groom, she’d always held the upper hand in these situations. Helplessly she lay on the bed, and watched her cousin slowly strip off his clothes. The back and shoulders that faced her were broad and well-muscled. They ran into a narrow waist. Off came his trunk hose. His hips were slim, his buttocks nicely rounded. Adam Leslie turned around, and Fiona gasped in shock. Once she’d seen her father’s prized stud stallion mounting a mare in a field. She’d hoped then she would find a man with one as big. Now suddenly he stood laughing before her.

“Aye, sweetheart! For five years ye’ve been running away from the very thing ye wanted.”

“Jesu,” she whispered. “Ye’ll kill me wi that!” But the moist, secret place between her legs was throbbing hungrily. Practically crying, she held out her arms to him. His body quickly covered hers, and he felt her warm hand eagerly reach to guide him. Carefully he pushed into her, and having ascertained that she could easily receive his bulk, he began a slow, sensuous movement. Her body writhed wildly beneath him, her nails raking his back. As his movements became faster and fiercer, she began a low moaning that a few minutes later culminated in a shriek of pure joy.

He rolled off her and lay quietly catching his breath. Then, raising himself on one elbow, he looked down at her and said, “For a wench who’s been whoring since she was barely pubescent, ye know damned little, and it’s yer own fault! Ye’ve confined yer activities to amateurish lowlifes.” Bending his head, he thoughtfully nibbled for a minute at a pointed breast while his fingers played between her legs. “Now I, sweetheart,” he continued, “have been educated by the finest whores in Paris, London, and Aberdeen. I shall happily teach ye everything I know.”

Still resisting him somewhat, Fiona said, “I’ve nae said I’d be yer mistress, you vain boy!”

“I dinna ask ye, my dear.”

She looked puzzled.

“I am sure that by now,” he said, “the church is used to giving Leslie cousins dispensations to wed.”

Fiona was stunned. “I’m older than you,” she protested feebly.

“By five whole weeks,” he chuckled. “I’ll be twenty next week, luv.” He pulled her under him again, and she could feel his hardness against her leg.

“I dinna want ye!” she raged at him. “I want Glenkirk!”

“Ye can’t have him, hinny. He doesn’t want you.” He forced her legs apart.

“Ye hae no money!” said Fiona. “Besides, I’ll nae live in someone else’s house!”

“I have quite a good income from investments Grandmam made for me, as do you. Alone I am worth more than many a belted earl. I also hae a share in the family shipping, and the sheep businesses. Ye have a house in Edinburgh that belonged to yer grandmother, Fiona Abernethy. We’ll travel for several years, and when wee King Jamie is grown, we’ll return, live in Edinburgh, and go to court.” He pushed deep into her, then lay quiet.

Fiona never understood why she spoke, but she said, “I canna have any bairns. Stewart’s brat ruined me.”

“I know,” he replied with irritating calm. “The midwife ye called afterwards has delivered at least three of my bastards. It cost me two gold pieces to get that information. And sweetheart, I know it wasna Stewart’s babe.” He laughed as she swore a string of oaths. “Let Patrick, Jamie, and Michael carry on the family name wi a pack of babies,” he said. “I want just you. BUT if I ever catch ye wi another man, I’ll beat ye black and blue, and deny ye this—” he thrust viciously in her—"for a month!” His amber eyes narrowed, and glowed down at her.