Grasso, Patricia (41 page)

"I'm heavy with your child," Keely said with a puckish grin. "Humor me."

Both Richard and Keely disrobed and covered their nakedness with the ceremonial robes. Keely reached for her pouch of stones but then paused to adjust the hood of her husband's robe over his head.

"Don't bother," he said, touching her hand. "I won't be wearing it long."

Keely chose eight dark carnelians for protection and courage. With these, she formed a makeshift circle around the fur coverlet and left only the western periphery open. Without saying a word, Keely offered her hand to her husband.

Richard dropped his amused gaze from her amethyst eyes to her hand. His smile was pure love as he placed his hand in hers.

She led him into the safety of the circle and closed it behind them, saying, "All disturbing thoughts remain outside."

Removing her golden sickle from the pouch, Keely walked around the inside of the circle and fused its invisible periphery shut. She turned to her husband and closed her eyes, praying, "Great Mother Goddess, fierce guardian of all your children, accept this humble offering of our bodies. Shield my wonderful husband from his enemies, the evil-doers."

"Thank you, dearest," Richard whispered. Then: "Now what?"

Keely smiled seductively and pushed the white ceremonial robe off his shoulders. Beginning at the top of his head, she worshipped him with her eyes. His crown of burnished copper hair was a fiery sunset, and his eyes were the green of her beloved forests in springtime. His body was as solid and perfectly formed as a majestic oak. Richard was indeed her pagan god sprung to life.

Dropping her gaze, Keely admired his broad shoulders and well-muscled chest, with its mat of copper hair. Lower, her heated gaze dipped to his tapered waist and then his aroused manhood.

Keely forced herself to lift her gaze to his. She shrugged the robe off her shoulders and stood before him proudly. Wearing only her gleaming dragon pendant and the curtain of ebony hair that fell to her waist, Keely was his pagan princess.

The powerful primitive urge to cover her body with his own and mate surged through Richard. For her sake, he held himself in check and followed her lead.

Richard dropped his gaze from her hauntingly lovely face to her breasts with their enlarged dusky nipples, the exquisite proof that his child grew within her womb. Lower his gaze drifted to her curving hips and gently rounded belly.

With a groan of mingling emotion and need, Richard dropped to his knees in front of her. He wrapped his arms around her hips and kissed the mound of her swollen belly.

"My seed has grown," he whispered, his voice hoarse with tender awe.

"Aye," she murmured, stroking the crown of his head.

Richard slashed his tongue across her moist female's place and heard her sharp intake of breath at the unexpected pleasure. He cupped her buttocks and held her steady while his exploring tongue made her squirm with hot desire.

Up and down, Richard flicked his tongue in a gentle assault on her womanhood. He licked and kissed her dewy jewel, while his talented fingers teased and taunted her sensitive nipples.

Surrendering to the exquisite feeling, Keely melted against his tongue. She cried out and clung to him as wave after wave of throbbing pleasure surged through her.

Richard pulled her down in front of him and kissed her passionately, pouring all of his love into that stirring kiss. Gently, he pushed her down on the fur coverlet and positioned himself between her thighs.

"The babe?" he asked.

"She will be fine."

With that, Richard plunged deep inside her and sheathed himself to the hilt. He withdrew slowly and then slid forward, piercing her softness, teasing her over and over again, until she trembled with rekindled frantic need. Holding her hips steady, Richard thrust deep and rode her hard. Again and again, he ground himself into her tight throbbing softness.

With mingling cries, Richard and Keely exploded together and then lay still as they floated back to earth from their shared paradise. He moved to one side, pulled her with him, and cradled her in his arms. Long moments passed in silence.

"Were we very loud?" Keely whispered, breaking the silence. "Do you think my father knows what we're doing?"

" 'Twould be highly insulting if he believed we were talking," Richard answered.

The thought that her father knew what they were doing—
at the very moment they were doing it
—made Keely blush. And then she remembered her father wasn't alone belowstairs.

"Holy stones!" Keely moaned, hiding her face against his chest. "I futtered my husband above the minister's head."

Richard burst out laughing. "Dearest, you are so incredibly sweet."

She peered up at him. "Good enough to eat, I hope."

Richard rolled her onto her back and kissed her while one of his hands caressed her silken length as lightly as a summer's breeze. He heard her ragged sigh of desire and dipped his head to suckle upon her sensitive nipples.

Their loveplay was tormentingly slow this time, and Richard savored each of his wife's delicate shivers and arousing moans. Temporarily depleted of energy, both felt reluctant to waste precious moments in sleep.

"I'll fetch us a goblet of wine," Richard said, starting to rise.

Keely touched his forearm to stop him. "Breaking the circle without giving thanks is forbidden."

Richard nodded and then helped her stand.

Keely wrapped her arms around him, rested her head against his chest, and prayed, "We thank the Goddess for accepting this humble offering of our bodies joined as one."

She walked to the western periphery of the circle and picked the carnelian up. "This way," she said.

Richard followed her out of the circle and then led her across the chamber. He filled a goblet with wine and sat beside her on the bed. Leaning against its headboard, they shared the wine and the cheese.

Muffled laughter drifted up from the second floor, and Keely whispered, "What are they doing?"

"Drinking and gambling." Leaning closer, Richard flicked his tongue along the fragile column of her neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine. "Mmmm. Good enough to eat."

"Is
that
what you meant the night of our betrothal?" Keely asked, surprised.

Her shocked expression of innocence tickled him. Richard gave her a wolfish grin and admired the pretty blush staining her cheeks. "Share the news from Devereux House, dearest."

"Odo and Hew stole your cousins' virginity," Keely told him. "Of course, we'll see them wed as soon as you come home. My young brother is determined to snatch everyone else's virtue. If the queen keeps you here much longer, there will be nary a maiden left in your household."

"Henry is a man after my own heart," Richard teased her. "Oh, the glory of my roving days—gone forever and nevermore to return."

When Keely cast him an unamused look, Richard kissed her for her trouble. He slipped one hand beneath the coverlet and caressed the mound of her belly, saying, "I pray I'm home in time for the babe's birth."

"Elizabeth will free you in no more than a month," Keely replied.

"I beg your pardon?"

"The Goddess passed her wisdom through me," she explained. "She revealed that we would be together when the Beltane fires blaze. 'Tis the first day of May."

A skeptic to the end, Richard decided to humor her. He kissed her hand in courtier's fashion and said, "I feel so much better knowing that. Come, dearest. I want to show you something."

Richard rose from the bed and offered her his hand. He led her across the chamber to the wall beside the hearth.

"See what I did." Richard pointed to words carved into the stone. "I've immortalized us."

Keely stepped closer and peered at the words
Richard
and
Keely.
She looked up at him and smiled. Their names would be linked together for all of eternity, even if they were not.

"And we're in excellent company," he added. "See here."

Keely read the words
Jane
and
Guildford.
"Who are they?" she asked.

"Jane Grey, England's ten-day queen," Richard answered. "Guildford Dudley, the present Earl of Leicester's brother, married her. Together, they ruled England for ten days, until Mary Tudor and her army put an end to it. This chamber housed him while he awaited the executioner's ax."

"What happened to Jane?"

"She met the executioner after her husband."

Tears welled up in Keely's eyes. Richard pulled her into his embrace and stroked the delicate column of her back.

" 'Twas foolish to upset you with so sad a tale," he apologized. "I swear I'm in no danger."

A knock on the door drew their attention. "I'm sorry, child," the Duke of Ludlow called. "You must prepare to leave."

"Give us five minutes," Richard answered. Keely hid her face against her husband's chest and wept quietly.

Richard planted a kiss on the ebony crown of her head. "Shall I help you dress?" he asked.

Keely shook her head and struggled against her tears. Refusing to allow his parting memory of her to be anything but cheerful, she pasted a sunny smile onto her face and teased, "We'd be here another five years if you dressed me."

Richard smiled, relieved that her mood had passed. Everyone knew extreme sadness in a pregnant woman could mar the child.

When they descended to the second floor, Richard flicked a glance at the constable. "Is it permissible to walk them downstairs?" he asked.

Kingston noted the lady's tear-bright eyes and took pity on the lovers' plight. "I'll accompany you."

Reaching the courtyard below, Richard enfolded Keely within the circle of his embrace and kissed her passionately, stealing her breath away. He gently brushed the teardrops off her face and said with a smile meant to encourage, "Remember, dearest. Your Beltane fire will see us together again. 'Tis a matter of a few weeks only."

Through twilight's fading light, Richard watched his wife and her father cross the Tower Green. Keely looked back once and waved, then disappeared inside the Lodgings.

Richard turned away, but a movement near the Lodgings caught his eye. He whirled around and saw a woman pacing back and forth in front of the Lodgings' windows. Unexpectedly, she turned in his direction and stared at him.

A ripple of unease danced down his spine, yet Richard was unable to tear his gaze from hers. He recognized the woman whose portrait he'd passed hundreds of times in the Long Gallery at Richmond Palace—Anne Boleyn, the queen's long-dead mother.

And then Richard heard her words of warning as clearly as if she'd been standing beside him:
"Beware the blacksmith."

Chapter 18

"Greedy Tudor bitch!"

Morgana Talbot heard the bitter grumbling from within the chamber and paused, staring at the door instead of knocking on it. The angry voice certainly belonged to the baron, but cursing was so unlike him. At least, she'd never heard Willis utter crude words.

Had coming here been a mistake? Morgana wondered. She had planned to give the handsome baron a tongue-lashing for failing to meet her at the appointed hour. After all, Willis had invited her on a romantic outing upriver to see how April's warmth had transformed the surrounding countryside. But now...

Willis sounded out of humor. On the other hand, she
was
the Duke of Ludlow's daughter, while he was merely a near-penniless baron. Any decent man would have sent his regrets instead of making her wait on the quay like a conspicuous fool. With her anger rekindled, Morgana lifted her fist and banged forcefully on the door.

"Who's there?" The question sounded like an animal's growl.

"Morgana."

"Begone."

Morgana narrowed her blue-eyed gaze on the door as if the offensive portal had ordered her away. She stood in indecision for one long moment, then opened the door and stepped inside the chamber.

With his back to the door, Willis placed the last of his possessions into his leather satchel and buckled it closed. Glancing over his shoulder at her, he scowled darkly and said, "I told you to leave."

"What's wrong?" Morgana asked, standing two feet inside the room. She'd never seen the charming baron in so foul a mood. That fact, coupled with a feeling of foreboding, kept her from walking across the chamber.

Willis turned around and faced her. "Lady Luck played me for an April fool, but I mean to best her yet."

"I don't understand," Morgana said, becoming alarmed. "What has happened?"

"Even as we speak, your father is on his way downriver to fetch Devereux and transport him home," Willis told her. "Elizabeth has eased her dear unhappy Midas's imprisonment to house arrest."

" 'Tis good news."

"That bastard leads a charmed life," Willis snapped. Almost instantly, he realized he'd let his facade drop, and he advanced on her, saying, "You should never have come here, my dear."

The coldness in his voice and the unholy light shining from his eyes frightened Morgana. She backed up two paces and reached for the doorknob. "I—I'll leave now," she said.

"Sorry, angel." Willis grabbed her upper arm in an iron grip and whirled her around. "Ruining my future is a thing I cannot allow you to do."

Morgana wet her lips, gone dry from fear. The baron had apparently lost his mind, and she needed to escape.

Willis reached into his doublet, withdrew a yellowed parchment, and waved it in front of her face. "Remember this?" he asked, arching a brow at her.

Morgana recognized the marriage certificate she'd, found in the Talbot family Bible, the damning document proving that Henry and she were ducal bastards. "You said you'd destroyed it."

Smythe smiled coldly, cruelly. " 'Tis an exceedingly valuable document."

"Destroy it this minute!" Morgana demanded, trying to grab it out of his hand. " 'Tis valueless to you."

"On the contrary, angel." Smythe hid the parchment inside his doublet. "It guarantees me control of two fortunes—Devereux and Talbot."

"What do you mean?"