“Look at me,” he commanded her.
She opened her eyes and stared into his which were so filled with his love and his passion that she was near to weeping. “I love you, Fortune,” he told her once again.
“I love you!”
Then he began to move within her. With each stroke of his love lance she became more and more conscious of a new pleasure that was rising within her, reaching up to claim her very soul. Her gaze locked itself on his until the intensity of her emotions was so great that her eyes closed of their own volition, and for the first time in her life Fortune soared among the stars.
He drove deeper and deeper into the sweetness of her. Her fingers dug strongly into the flesh of his muscled shoulders.
“Please! Please!”
she said huskily, and he understood the delights she was experiencing because he was savoring those same delights as their bodies, one now, peaked together in a fierce firestorm of satisfied passion.
“Kieran!
Ahh, ’tis sweet, my darling! Sweet!” Fortune cried as she was swept up in a maelstrom, and then hurtled down into a pool of warm darkness.
His hunger burst, flooding her secret garden with his juices as he collapsed upon her lush body. He could scarce catch his breath, but he quickly realized his weight on her was much too much, and rolled from her. He lay gasping, feeling the moisture from his exertions oozing from every pore of his body. As his heart slowed he heard it. A soft weeping. Stricken he turned toward her. “Fortune? What is it, sweetheart? Why do you weep? Have I hurt you?” He was a beast! he thought. So wrapped up in his own pleasure he hadn’t even considered her. He gathered her into his arms. “What is it, lambkin? Tell me!”
“I am so happy,” she wailed, and wept all over his smooth chest.
“I have never been happier in all my life, Kieran!”
she sobbed. “You were so worth waiting for, my love. I didn’t think love would ever find me. When I met your brother, and knew almost at once he wasn’t the one, and thought I might have to take him because it was expected. . . .” A fresh flow of tears poured forth from her blue-green eyes.
He wanted to laugh at her innocent confession. He wanted to shout with joy at it. Instead he held her tightly. “I didn’t think love would find me either, Fortune, but then I saw you, and knew I could not let Willy have you. I would have stolen you away in the manner of my Celtic ancestors if you had chosen him.
You are mine!
You always were, and you always will be. Now, cease your weeping, my love, and kiss me,” he told her, turning her to face him.
Their lips met in an almost desperate embrace. Then drawing away from him she said candidly, “Can we have each other again tonight?”
He nodded. “Aye, but let me rest awhile, and you also, my darling. I have much more to show you, and to teach you, Fortune. I hope you will not be disappointed.”
“I want to know how to pleasure you,” she said. Then she climbed from their bed, and padded across the bedchamber to where a silver ewer had been set next to a small pile of soft cloths. Bringing them back to the bedside she set them down, and first washed herself, then bathed his manhood carefully. “Mama calls these love cloths. She says it is advisable to bathe after each encounter with passion because then we are ready for more.”
He had never heard of such a thing, but it seemed quite sensible to him, and he certainly had no objection to the procedure. “I like it,” he said. “Will you always care for me so tenderly, Fortune?” He reached up, and fondled her breast, rubbing the nipple with the pad of his thumb.
“Aye,” she said, carefully putting the basin and cloths aside, then climbing back into their bed atop him. His two hands began to caress her two small round breasts. Fortune clasped him between her two milky thighs as she would her gelding. “I can ride you, sir, even as I do Thunder. Will you prove as lusty a mount?” she teased him, almost purring as he squeezed her breasts. She arched away from him, and his hands glided down her torso, sliding around beneath her bottom to fondle it suggestively. “Ohh!” she squealed, and wiggled herself against his outspread palms.
He chuckled, and looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. “So, you’re not afraid of my lust, my beautiful wife.” His strong fingers kneaded her flesh. He could feel his love lance hardening with each of her very provocative movements. She had wondered if they could make love again tonight. He now wondered if he could stop. He had never known such desire for a woman as he had for Fortune. Usually his lust was easily satisfied with one good tumble, but not with his young bride.
She could feel the throbbing of him, and raising herself above his manhood she slowly lowered herself onto it, a gusty sigh escaping her as she couched his lance entirely. He groaned, and pulling her forward so he might kiss her again began to move rhythmically within her. Their lips tasted each other. Their hearts beat frantically. “Oh, God!” Fortune cried desperately as he drove once again with unrelenting insistence until the stars were exploding within her head, behind her eyes, and in her very heart.
“Fortune, my love!”
he cried out as his desire peaked once more, his arms tightening about her as she yielded herself to him again.
And afterwards as they lay together, fingers entwined, he insisted that she sleep for a time. “You are so fierce a lover, my darling,” he told her, “but you must rest, and so must I.”
“Yes, sir, my lord husband,” Fortune replied sweetly, sated, and replete with her contentment. “But can we please do it again when we awake?
Kieran?
Why are you laughing? Have I said something amusing?”
He somehow managed to restrain his mirth. “Are all the women in your family this passionate, Fortune?”
“Isn’t passion with your husband a good thing?” Her look was honestly questioning.
“You will never hear me complain, my love,” he told her, “but this thought suddenly comes to mind. I don’t have to worry about my little brother killing me when he learns I have married you, Fortune. You will probably kill me with your wickedly delicious lustful nature before much longer. Willy doesn’t know what a narrow escape he had.” And he laughed again.
“Villain!” she scolded him. “And you have yet to answer my question. Can we make love again after we have rested?”
“Aye,” he said, and then, “I wonder if I shall live to see the morning, you delightful wanton.”
Fortune leaned over him, and ran her tongue along his lips before kissing him quickly. “Now that you have shown me the delights of passion, my love, I intend keeping you alive,” she told him.
“Keeping you content will be a lifetime occupation,” he replied, pulling her against him so that she could hear the steady beat of his heart.
“You will have to work very hard,” she told him.
“Oh, madame, I will,” he responded. “You may be certain that I will.”
Chapter
11
“W
hat do you mean Kieran has married Fortune Lindley?” Jane Devers stared at her husband uncomprehendingly.
“They were wed yesterday by the Reverend Steen at Maguire’s Ford’s church,” her husband replied. “I was there, and witnessed the ceremony.”
“You allowed this thing?”
She could feel her anger beginning to rise. “You let that Celtic bastard of yours marry the greatest heiress in all of Fermanagh?
How could you?”
Her fair skin was mottled with her ire, and she was practically gasping.
“How could I prevent it?” he asked her quietly. “The duke of Glenkirk and his wife were content with the match. And do not ever again refer to my eldest son as a bastard, Jane.” His look was hard.
“What else is he?” she shrieked. “Your Catholic marriage was illegal. That is the king’s law! Your children by that creature you called a first wife were not legitimate, and yet I looked the other way, raising them as if they were my own. When you recognized William as your legitimate heir, I thought we were of one mind, Shane.”
“ ’Twas you, my dear, who said unless Kieran became a Protestant I must disinherit him if Mallow Court was to be protected, and remain in the Devers family,” he replied. “Are you now telling me that if Kieran had complied, and became a Protestant, you would have claimed he was illegitimate because my first marriage to Mary Maguire was celebrated in the Catholic Church?”
“Yes!”
she told him bluntly. “Yes, I would have! We did not marry for love, Shane. You married me for my inheritance, and I married you for Mallow Court. Did you really think I should let Kieran have it after my William was born? And if I had not borne you a son, but only a daughter, I should have wanted it for Bessie. Mallow Court does not belong to you, Shane. My father bought it with his gold, and I sealed the bargain when I let you grunt and sweat over my body in order to give you a daughter and a son. In the eyes of the law they are your only legitimate heirs! Do not ever forget it!”
“I am not such a fool that I believe ours a love match, Jane,” he said, “but I did think we had an affection for one another after two children, and all these many years. I am saddened to learn I was wrong.”
“You Irish are such romantics,” she sneered. “Marriage, like anything else, is a practical business, Shane. Now, let us discuss this disaster that has come upon us. Kieran cannot be allowed to have Erne Rock, and Maguire’s Ford. It would give the local Catholics who persist in remaining here too great an advantage.”
“Kieran and Fortune will not be remaining in Ulster, Jane. They are not to have Maguire’s Ford. You have already been told that. The estate is to be divided between the duke’s two youngest sons, Adam and Duncan Leslie, who are already in residence at the castle. The duke, his wife, Fortune, and Kieran will be leaving next spring after the duchess has had her child, and it is safe for them to travel.”
“That is what they tell you,”
Jane Devers said venomously. “I am not so great a fool that I do not realize what Kieran has done. He quite deliberately set out to entice the Lindley wench so that William could not have her. William suspected it all along. Why else would Kieran have married
that
girl but for her vast estate? What else could she possibly have to recommend her? Kieran is an Irishman and to him land is important. He planned to gain a larger and richer holding than his younger brother. That is why he was so willing to give up Mallow Court. Ahh, you Irish are a wickedly devious lot, but Kieran will not succeed, I promise you, Shane! The law will not allow a treasonous Catholic to have such a prize.”
“Jane, do not meddle! I forbid you to do so else you bring disaster on my house. Kieran and his wife are
not
to have Maguire’s Ford. The Leslies of Glenkirk are no fools to throw away a rich holding like that on a Catholic son-in-law. They have a friend in King Charles, and a certain small influence at court. The duchess’s son is the king’s nephew.
If
they wanted Maguire’s Ford and Erne Rock for their daughter and Kieran, they would have the king’s protection no matter the law,
but they do not.
They are wise enough to know the difficulty it would cause, and wish no harm to their people. The two sons who will divide the holding are Protestants. You cannot take Maguire’s Ford from the Leslies of Glenkirk, Jane. You have no grounds on which to base any accusations. Let it be, and consider how we are to tell William when he and Emily Anne return from their wedding trip in a few weeks.”
She paled. “Ahh, my son! What will he think of this turn of events? Poor William!”
“Poor William?”
her husband said almost mockingly. “Why would you feel sorry for him, Jane? He is the heir to all I have. He has married a young girl who genuinely loves him, and will one day bring him all her father has, which is considerable. Why would you feel sorry for him, Jane? Because he retains a foolish passion that was never returned for a girl who saw nothing of value, or to love, in him? He had best get over his childish lust, for that is all it ever was. And he had best not covet his brother’s wife.” Then he looked hard at his own spouse “And you will not spoil William and Emily Anne’s wedding trip by sending a message to him in Dublin. Let them have these few weeks together to find some happiness before you begin to infect them with your bitterness, my dear.
“Kieran has wed Fortune in the rites of the Anglican Church,
the king’s church.
There is nothing you can do about it, Jane. The match is legal, approved of by the Leslies, and the bloody bedsheet flew this morning over Erne Rock Castle in proof of the consummation of the marriage. Kieran has never done you any harm, Jane. Like William, he is entitled to his happiness.
You will not interfere.”
His look was stern.
“Your Catholic son allowed himself to be wed in the Protestant Church?” she jeered at him. “Then the girl is no more than a whore to him, for his marriage could only be sanctified in the foul rites of the Roman Church.” Her eyes narrowed. “Unless, of course, they were first married by that priest the duchess claims as her kin. Were they, Shane? Did your precious son and his whore flout the king’s law first, then make a mockery of our true church?” She glared at him.
“If there was another ceremony, Jane, I was not aware of it, nor was I present at any such ceremony,” he told her. No, he hadn’t been present. Bride Murphy and Rory Maguire had been the witnesses. He had already been seated in Maguire’s Ford’s little stone Protestant church with Colleen, Hugh, Molly, and their daughters. God help him when Jane learned of that, and she would eventually. “The Leslies of Glenkirk are Protestant, Jane. It is natural their daughter, brought up in England’s faith, would be married by Reverend Steen. And pray, my dear, do not call my daughter-in-law a whore.”
Frustrated, and angered beyond all reason, Jane Devers lost her calm demeanor and vaunted control. Her fingers closed about the wine decanter, and then she flung it at him.
“I hate you!”
she screamed.
Shane Devers ducked the missile and burst out laughing. “Why, my dear Jane, ’tis the most passion I have ever seen you show in all our years of marriage. It quite becomes you.”
Open-mouthed, she stared at him, her pale blue eyes almost bulging from her head. Then with a cry of despair Jane Devers fled her husband’s library. She was appalled by the situation; appalled by her inability to manage it; appalled by her loss of control. She began to weep, but after a moment she ceased. She needed to know more about this wedding. Hurrying to her apartments she called to her maid, Susanna.
“See if one of the household servants has kin in Maguire’s Ford,” she said “My stepson married Lady Lindley yesterday, and I want to know everything there is to know about the wedding.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Susanna said, showing no emotion at all. Her ladyship did not like any show of feelings, but Susanna was very surprised by her mistress’s news. “The undercook has family in Maguire’s Ford, m’lady. Shall I speak to her?”
“Yes,” Jane Devers replied. “Tell her there is a silver piece in it for her if she is forthcoming.”
“Yes, m’lady.” Susanna curtsied, and hurried off.
Several days later Jane Devers had learned all she needed to know about her stepson’s wedding. It had been a happy occasion, and the duke had invited all in the village to celebrate it with his family. Learning this made her even happier William had not contracted an alliance with Fortune Lindley. That the duke could associate himself and his family with those bog trotters was disgusting. The Leslies might be wealthy, but they were obviously not people of real quality. How could they be when the duchess had no shame in the mongrel she had borne a dead prince?
More interesting, however, was the knowledge that her husband’s mistress had been at the festivities with her two bastards. And that they had all spent the night at Erne Rock. While Shane knew it not, she had seen those two young hussies in Lisnaskea on several occasions. And she had made it quite clear to the Reverend Mr. Dundas that no respectable family should take either of those two woods colts to be a wife for their sons. They were baseborn.
They were Catholics.
But that Shane should have consorted with them publicly at Kieran’s wedding was an insult she would not forget. He would pay for his misbehavior. Kieran would pay for his treachery as well.
She hardly saw her husband at all now. They had had separate bedchambers for years. They only met over the dinner table, except that Shane was away in the evening more often than not of late. Probably with his blowsy whore and her two brats. Consequently there was little exchange between them anymore. She didn’t care. William would be home soon with Emily Anne, and then they would decide what was to be done about Kieran and the estate at Maguire’s Ford. No matter that Shane said Kieran was not to have it. She didn’t believe him. Why wouldn’t the duchess give the lands given her by her late husband to the child born of that marriage? Surely she would. She wouldn’t give it to sons born of another husband. Jasmine Leslie would use her influence with King Charles to give Maguire’s Ford to her daughter and Kieran. Bringing her two youngest sons from Scotland was but a ruse. Well, it wouldn’t work, and Kieran Devers wasn’t going to have the chance to lord it over her son!
Blissfully unaware of Jane Devers, Kieran and Fortune spent the days following their marriage making love and riding out together. Their passion for each other was so great that they could scarcely wait to leave the hall each evening. Finally Jasmine told them to not even bother coming into the hall, but to have food sent to their bedchamber to eat when they realized another hunger other than the one they had for each other’s bodies.
“Mama!”
Fortune blushed, embarrassed, but Kieran just laughed.
“I thank you, madame, for your understanding,” he said with a rakish grin, and a wink.
Both the duke and Rory Maguire chuckled at his reply, and Father Cullen hid a smile.
“The quiet from Lisnaskea is a wee bit deafening,” the duke noted.
“I heard that Lady Jane and her good husband had quite a row over the marriage here,” Rory noted. “The undercook at Mallow Court was given a silver piece to obtain all the information she could from her kin here. Now they say Sir Shane and his wife do not speak to each other except when they cannot avoid it. It should get a bit more interesting when young Willy comes home with his bride.”
“Surely he won’t make a scene,” Fortune said.
“You turned him away, and married his brother, lass,” was the answer. “Kieran can tell you, young Willy has never been one to easily let go of something he wanted.”
“We’ll talk, my brother and I,” Kieran said.
Maguire raised a sandy eyebrow. “If you can get within shouting range of him, Kieran Devers, for he’ll be out for blood unless that simple lass he has married has been able to turn his heart.”
“Do you think he’s dangerous?” Fortune asked her husband later that evening as they lay abed. They were naked, and seated, he against the pillows, she against his chest. His big hands played with her sweet round breasts, teasing them lightly.
“I don’t know,” he answered her, one hand moving to push her hair aside so he might kiss the soft nape of her neck. “I’ve never seen him driven so far as he was with you.” He nipped at her, then soothed away the sting with his wet tongue.
She took his other hand from her breast, and mouthed the fingers, finally taking one finger into her mouth and sucking on it seductively. Her tongue swirled about the finger in an almost thoughtful motion, and then releasing it she said, “Does his wife have the ability to rule him as his mother did? Perhaps we should try to make our peace through Emily Anne.”
“I am not certain it will be possible for Emily Anne loves Willy with all her heart, and she is yet very young. She will say and do what she believes will please him. Nay, I think there is little chance of a reconciliation between me and my family.”
“Your father will not desert you,” Fortune reminded him.
“Nay, he won’t, but neither will he do anything else. He must live with my stepmother and my siblings long after we have gone.”
“Than we shall ignore them all,” Fortune said. “I see no other way. In six months’ time we shall be gone, and with the winter coming, I see little chance of your stepmother causing difficulty.”