Love Wild and Fair (4 page)

The thought of losing what she’d been seeking so long made a shudder run through her. Wrapping her legs around him, she whispered in a frightened voice, “I’ll be good, Adam! I swear it!”

The following day, to everyone’s surprise, Adam Leslie announced to his assembled family that he was marrying his cousin, Lady Stewart. Since neither his mother, nor Fiona’s parents had been informed, pandemonium broke loose.

Patrick spoke up in his brother’s defense. “They asked my permission,” he lied smoothly, “but, uncle, I must apologize to you for not consulting wi you beforehand. My own upcoming nuptials have addled my brain.” He turned to his younger brother and said sternly. “It was nae yer place to announce yer intentions until I had spoken to our uncle.”

Adam looked properly contrite.

“Come, my uncle of Sithean,” said the Earl of Glenkirk. “Let us speak privately. Even a beautiful widow must have a dowry.”

Before he could protest, the Lord of Sithean found himself borne off to the library, where Adam apprised him of the fact that his daughter would always be barren, and that he was lucky to get any son-in-law at all considering that fact.

“Then why do ye want her?” asked Sithean.

“Because, uncle, I love the minx.”

Sithean said no more. He had never found his daughter particularly lovable, and he knew her reputation. Considering himself lucky to be rid of her again, he named a very generous figure for her dowry and was accepted. The wedding was set for the spring.

When their uncle had left, Glenkirk turned to his brother. “Why?” he asked. “Ye could have had pretty Isabella Forbes, and legitimate sons.”

“Because, Patrick, I really do love Fiona. I have since I was a boy.”

“She’s a whore! Forgie me, Adam, but she’ll lie wi any man.”

“Not now she won’t. Dinna look so skeptical, Patrick. Remember Nelly Baird?”

“Aye,” said Glenkirk ruefully, recalling a particularly lovely wench he’d been keeping in Edinburgh. She’d been all his until he let his brother spend a night with her.

Adam laughed and then, becoming serious again, said, “Fiona will whore no longer. It’s just that her capacity for love is great, and until last night no man was big enough to fill it. I am, and she’s content now.”

“But ye could hae had legitimate sons wi the Forbes girl.”

“You and James and Michael will all have sons to carry on our branch of the family. I’d rather hae my little red-haired bitch.”

“I’ll not say ye nay, brother,” said the earl, “for young Mistress Catriona Hay has me dancing a merry tune.”

“Take my advice, Patrick, and tame the wench, or ye’ll hae no peace in yer house.”

“Aye, but how?”

Adam shrugged his shoulders. “That,” he said, “is yer problem, brother. I’ve got my own, and her name is Fiona.”

Margaret Leslie stormed into the library.

“How could ye!” she raged at her oldest son. “How could ye allow your brother to wed wi that … harlot? Sithean is chortling wi glee at having rid himself of the bitch a second time. Fiona may be my niece, but I will nae allow one of my boys to mate wi that she-wolf!”

Patrick drew himself up and looked down at his mother. “I would remind ye, madame, that I am the head of this family, not you. I make the decisions here. Adam is in love wi Fiona, and she wi him Sithean has consented, and supplied a generous dowry. They wed in the spring. Ye will welcome her as ye have welcomed Catriona, and Ailis Hay, and as ye will welcome Isbella Forbes.”

Margaret Leslie turned to her younger son. He took his mother’s hands in his. “I do love her, mother,” he said. “Ye had yer happy years wi father. Now I would hae mine wi Fiona.”

Meg Leslie burst into tears, and her two sons put their arms about her.

“Ye were always willful. All of you boys!”

“Madame, we would be happy. You and our father set us the example,” said Adam.

She sniffed delicately. Wiping her eyes, she smiled at them “Very well, my lord earl, and my foolish younger son. I shall welcome Fiona, though I still believe it to be wrong. The lass has a streak of mischief in her. She can be wicked when she chooses. I dinna like it.”

T
HE Earl of Glenkirk wooed his bride-to-be with the elegance and grace of a French courtier. When Ellen brought Cat breakfast each morning, there was always something on the tray from Patrick. It might be simple, perhaps a sprig of pine and a gilded cone tied with red velvet ribbons. Or it might be as valuable as a carved ivory box holding a dozen diamond buttons. Cat and Patrick became better acquainted on short rides through the December snows, and long walks in the sleeping gardens.

Patrick Leslie was a well-educated man, and his young betrothed, who had struggled so hard for her own education, listened to him eagerly. It amused the earl to find this serious mind housed in such a lush young body. But it worried him that she was so innocent. Raised in the insular world of Greyhaven, she understood almost none of the facts of life.

She had grown secure enough in his company to suggest they be married on St. Valentine’s Day. After Easter, Adam and his Fiona would be quietly wed—though all the family knew that wedding would be a mere formality. They were already living together as husband and wife. And Fiona, who had always run to the lean, was growing as plump and sleek as a cream-fed cat.

“She almost purrs,” giggled Ailis Hay. “I only hope my Jamie’s as good as the lasses say Cousin Patrick and Adam are.”

“As good at what?” asked Cat.

Ailis’ large blue eyes opened wide, then she giggled again. “Oh, Cat! Yer such a tease!”

“I dinna know what ye are talking about, Ailis. Ye hope Jamie’s as good as Patrick and Adam in what?”

“In bed, you goose!” said Ailis, exasperated. “They say the Glenkirk men drive the lasses mad wi delight! I canna wait till I’m wed in June!”

“God, Ailis! Yer as big a whore as Fiona!”

Ailis’ eyes filled with tears, and her blond curls quivered with outrage. “I am,” she said with great dignity, “as virgin as ye are, Catriona Hay! But there the similarity ends! I look forward to my nights in the marriage bed, and I shall do my best to please Jamie. Yer as cold as ice. And if ye dinna change yer ways, the earl will seek solace in a warmer bed. Who would blame him?”

Cat stalked away from her cousin. Since the family had arrived for Christmas, Glenkirk’s behavior had been quite correct. There had been no repeat of that night before the fire when he’d unleashed emotions in her she had never felt before, and still wasn’t sure she could handle. She wanted to feel those feelings again.

That night, clad only in a soft linen shift, she crept from her apartments and hid in an alcove by the earl’s rooms. It was cold, and he didn’t come till quite late. She slipped from her hiding place and followed him into his room.

He turned. “Why, Cat, sweet. What is it?”

She shivered, and he quickly dropped his fur-lined cloak over her shoulders.

“Now, love, what is so important that ye come to my rooms in the middle of the night?”

Shyness overcame her. He picked her up in his arms and, cradling her, sat down in the chair by the fire. “Tell me, my sweet.”

Her voice was low. “I want—I want ye to make love to me.”

“Nay, hinny. If I believed that I should have ye stripped, and in my bed in an instant.”

“Please, Patrick! I really do! Oh, my lord, I am so woefully ignorant! My mother has tried to remedy this, but she makes love sound so lofty and spiritual. Then Ailis chortles and giggles about the reputation of the Glenkirk men, and Fiona is sleeping openly wi Adam, and looks so damned superior and content
That’s
not at all spiritual. So … I dinna know what to expect Please teach me! Even a little!”

“Very well,” he said, and there was a hint of laughter in his voice, “but if ye become frightened, or want me to stop, dinna be afraid to ask me.”

“All right, Patrick.”

The room grew very quiet, the crackling of the fire the only sound. His one arm cradled her, the other was free. Slowly he pushed one side of her shift down, exposing a lovely globe-shaped ivory breast its nipple colored deep rose. For a moment he gazed at the perfection of it His hand cupped it tenderly, and squeezed. He felt her quiver ever so slightly, and his thumb reached out to rub the tantalizing pink point into hardness. He heard her gasp softly, and a smile spread across his lips.

He bent to kiss her, and heard his cloak fall to the floor as she wound her arms about his neck. Carefully he pulled the shift off her lovely body and dropped it on the cloak. He stroked her satiny skin. Though she trembled, she murmured contentedly and clung to him. Suddenly he stopped, and she protested.

“Please, my lord! More! I am not afraid.”

But the earl was afraid, for his own desires were fast mounting. He knew he would soon have to stop, or he would take her there and then.

“Cat! Sweetheart! Listen to me. I am beginning to want you very much. If I dinna send ye away now, I may not be able to deny myself the pleasure of yer sweet body.”

“Please, my lord, I want ye too. Take me now!”

Had she been anyone else he would have eagerly complied, but this was Cat, his innocent betrothed, who was just awakening to the joys of love. “Nay, hinny. In the light of morning things will look different. If I stole yer virginity now ye’d hate me for it later on.”

Sighing, he slipped the shift back over her head. He carried her back to her own bed and tenderly tucked her in. “Good night, love,” he whispered as he closed the door behind him.

Cat Hay lay still in the warmth of her bed and listened to the winter night. The fire burned with soft sounds. An owl hooted and was answered by a wolf. She now understood what her mother meant. But she also understood Ailis, and had more sympathy for cousin Fiona. She let her mind wander back over the last half-hour. Her breasts grew taut, and she flushed. For the rest of the night, Cat Hay alternated between restless sleep and restless wakefulness. He young body ached for Patrick’s touch.

When they met to ride in the morning he greeted her in his accustomed manner. She followed his example until they were safely away from the castle. Then, turning slowly to him, she said. “I regret nothing of last night.”

He smiled at her intensity. “There is nothing to regret, Cat. We but kissed and fondled … the innocent pastime of lovers since time began.”

“I will come to ye again,” she said.

He chuckled. “You will stay in yer own bed like a good girl,” he commanded, “or I’ll nae be responsible for my actions.”

She pouted at him. “I willna stay away.”

He stared at her and realized, to his utter amazement, that she meant it My God, he thought! She’s a tigress! He said sternly, “If ye disobey me, I shall take a hazel switch, and beat your pretty bottom. I mean it!”

She appeared in his room again that night Handing him a hazel switch, she shrugged her cloak off. She was naked. He threw the switch in the fire and, catching her to him, kissed her deeply. He allowed his fingers to stray between her legs. She moaned softly, and did not stop him.

The Twelfth Night festivities ended and the cousins departed for their own homes. The earl insisted that Catriona return to Greyhaven for a few weeks before coming back to Glenkirk for their wedding. Cat had not wanted to go. But she had been coming to Patrick’s room each night, and he felt that if he didn’t get some respite from the torture she was inflicting on him, he would do something they would both be sorry for.

Two weeks before the wedding she returned, bringing her dowry of clothing, jewels, linens, and furnishings. To Patrick’s dismay she was moved into the apartments of the Earl and Countess of Glenkirk, of which his bedroom was a part. There had never been a lock on the door between the bedrooms. For him to put one on now would cause much talk. The first night of her return he stayed up late talking with Adam, hoping she would be asleep when he retired.

Finally he bid his brother good night and went to his room. The door between the rooms stood open. He listened, but there was no sound. Quickly and quietly he stripped his clothing off.

“Patrick.” Her voice was sweet.

He turned to find her standing in the door between the rooms. She was as naked as he was. She held out a hand to him, and he groaned.

“Come, love. My bed is already warm.”

He couldn’t take his eyes off her lovely, generous breasts and sensuous long legs. Her honey-colored hair fell heavy and thick to below her tiny waist. Her eyes glittered as he’d never seen them do.

“If I get into yer bed tonight, Cat, there’s no turning back. I’ll play no more games wi ye. If I come to yer bed this night, sweetheart, I’ll take yer virginity. Make no mistake about it! What I start, I’ll finish!”

“Come, Patrick.” She walked back into her bedroom.

He followed her. “Are ye certain, hinny?”

She turned and put her hand on his chest, sending a wave of shock through him. “I canna wait longer, my lord. Please dinna make me beg ye.” She climbed into the big bed and held out her arms. Quickly he joined her and, catching her to him, kissed her strongly. He felt her tremble against him and shifted to look down at her.

“Yer sure?”

“Aye, my lord.”

She quivered like a captive wild creature as his lips began to explore her body. His kisses burned deeply into her fair skin, and when his mouth closed over a hard little nipple, she felt a delicious mixture of pleasure and fear. His hand explored the moist secret place between her legs—teasing, stroking, caressing. Gently he moved a finger into her and she arched to meet it. She was tight, and her virgin shield intact. He would have to be very gentle in order to cause her the least possible pain.

There was time, though. He had the whole night before him. He wanted her excited to a peak. She was not his first virgin, and he had found that a maiden excited to her limit felt less pain than one who was tense. He took her hand and placed it on his swelling organ. She didn’t pull her hand away, but shyly and gently caressed him, and suddenly bent and kissed its throbbing head.

A great shudder tore through him. Forcing her back beneath him, he kissed her deeply. Their tongues were spears of fire, exploring, scorching. Her body began to writhe beneath him, and Patrick smiled. Bending over her, he let his mouth travel to the tiny mole that perched at the top of the cleft between her legs. Then he ran his tongue down that appealing little cleft. She gasped in shock.