“Ah.” Orion realized her husband had not only cared nothing for her pleasure, he had cared nothing for her comfort either. “I am not him.”
Before she could reply, he moved his long fingers in a way that made her gasp and arch into his touch. She rubbed her body against his as he continued to intimately caress her, her desire growing so swiftly and fiercely that she could not remain still. With every skillful caress, every kiss, and every brush of his warm skin against hers, Catryn felt an ache deep inside her belly grow tighter and more demanding. She whispered his name against his mouth and, even lost in desire’s madness as she was, Catryn could hear the demand in her voice.
Then he was there. Inside her in one clean, hard stroke. Surprise over how perfectly he filled her was nearly swept away when he began to move. Catryn wrapped her body around his, arching into his every thrust. The soft growl that escaped him was enough to tell her she was returning the pleasure he was giving her. Then the tightness in her belly bloomed, spreading throughout her body and she cried out with the joy of it. A heartbeat later she felt him thrust deeply and shudder in her arms as he groaned out her name.
Orion eased the weight of his body from hers, moving to the side just a little. He brushed the tangled hair from her face and reveled in the glow he could still see coloring her cheeks and brightening her eyes. He had pleasured women before, but he had never taken as much pride in the fact as he did now. Then he watched her gaze clear a little as she looked at his shirt and then his breeches. That soft glow of pleasure faded fast.
“You do not like to be naked?” she asked as she tugged up the covers to hide her own nakedness as best she could while struggling through the lingering haze of sated passion to try and understand why he had remained partly clothed.
For a moment Orion considered telling her what he usually told women, and then he sighed. It was necessary for him to be honest, just as honest as Catryn always was with him. Just telling her that he had scars might be enough to make her cease wondering why he kept some of his clothes on, yet he knew he would be disappointed in her in some way if that proved true.
“I have a lot of scars on my back,” he said.
“Oh.” She slid her hands beneath his shirt and around to his back. Beneath her fingers she could feel the ridges left by old wounds. “Were you wounded? I know you and Giles speak of how you are a king’s man. Did something happen during a time when you were working for the king?”
“No. I have had them since I was a child.”
“A tutor?”
There was a faint hint of hope in her voice and he wondered at it. “No, my mother.”
“Your own mother beat you enough to leave scars?”
Suddenly he was being held tightly in her slim arms. “She was a rigid woman who wished to beat the devil out of me,” he confessed even as he wondered why.
“How could a mother do that? No, no need to answer. I have heard of other sins mothers have visited upon their children and been just as puzzled. It was but a question that did not exactly seek an answer, for I do not believe there ever can be a satisfactory one. The same when it is the father who commits the crime.”
“Spare the rod, spoil the child.”
“Oh, I did not suggest one never discipline a child, but there are ways to do so without beating them to the point that they are scarred for life.” She started to tug off his shirt. “Well, now that that secret is out, take this off. I refuse to be the only one who is naked.”
“They are upsetting to—”
“It might be wise if you do not speak on the times you have taken your shirt off for other women.”
“Ah, a good point.”
“So? Off with the clothes.” She blushed. “Unless you mean to return to your own room now, of course. I may be presuming too much by thinking you mean to stay here.”
“Not at all. I just felt I should warn you.”
“If you can accept my scars then I shall accept yours.”
“You do not have any scars.”
“I do.” She touched the marks low on her belly. “The birthing marks are still a bit stark, and probably always will be.”
Orion bent to kiss each of the scars running alongside her hip bones. “Marks of honor. You survived and gave the world a bright, gifted boy.”
Tears stung her eyes as she watched him stand up, but she fought them. He was tense as he began to shed his clothing. Catryn did not want him to think her tears were because of what he was about to show her and misinterpret the cause. The man was clearly very sensitive about his scars.
When he was fully disrobed, it took her breath away, and not just because she had never seen a grown man fully naked before. She had the passing thought that it was a wonder he could fit what was dangling between his legs inside her, and then she clenched her hands into fists because she wanted to reach out and touch him. The lustful cause of that urge ended when he turned around. His back was a mass of scars obviously made by a cane or a whip. They crisscrossed his broad, strong back from his shoulders to the tops of his well-muscled thighs.
Shock was her first reaction but she was glad she hid it, for she could see him watching her closely in the mirror over the fireplace. Then fury surged up through her. His mother, the woman who had given him life and should have cherished him, had done this to him. She heartily wished the woman was near at hand because she wanted to give the wretched excuse for a mother a taste of her own vicious medicine.
“Why? What possible reason could she think she had to do that to her own child?” she demanded, fighting the harsh images that tried to form in her mind.
Orion turned and stared at her. She was furious. He did not think he had ever seen anyone that furious before. Perhaps rumors about a redhead’s temper were not as exaggerated as he had always thought. For a moment he had believed he was about to suffer that look of shock and horror he so desperately did not wish to see in her eyes. Instead he was seeing the urge to murder someone there, and he suspected it was his mother. He moved back to the bed and settled down beside her before pulling her into his arms.
“My mother is already dead,” he said.
“How?”
“She was going to church as she so often did and was run over by the minister’s carriage.” He could not fully repress a smile at the look of angry disbelief she gave him, clearly believing he was making a poor jest. “Truly. She was so busy reading her prayer book as she walked that she stepped out right in front of him. The man was from our old parish, but my father had removed him after he found out it was one of the man’s sermons that inspired my mother to try and beat the devil out of me.”
“So your father put a stop to it?”
“Only if he happened to be around, and he rarely was. Recall how I said he died.”
Catryn frowned as she slid her arms around him. “Do you think that your mother may also have been using you in place of the one she truly wanted to beat?”
“When I was older and understood how my father had betrayed her practically from their wedding night, I began to think that. At the time, I just thought I had the devil in me.”
“That is utter nonsense. It was your gift, one you gained from your father, whom she married. Do not tell me she did not know the full truth about who your father was when she married him.”
“She did, but as with too many who come from outside the family, she did not truly understand. I do not believe she knew she would be bearing a child with a gift, either.”
“Oh, she knew. Even the most innocent of women, one kept utterly in the dark about men and women and marriage and babies knows that making a baby requires a man, and that baby could look just like that man or be like him, or look like her and be like her, or even a bit of each. She had family, correct?” He nodded. “And siblings?” He nodded again. “Then she knew. She was either trying to make you pay for the fact that your father was a faithless swine. . .” She grimaced. “Pardon.”
“No need. He was a faithless swine.”
She decided to ignore the hint of laughter in his voice. “Or because she believed the rantings of some minister about devils and all.”
“It was probably a little of both.”
“Is what happened to you typical of what your family suffers?”
“Not really, but not so rare, either. We are different and, to some, a bit frightening. There is no hiding the rest of the family after the marriage takes place, so there are even more things to frighten new spouses. Yet it does appear that bearing a child with a gift that frightens them causes that final break. It is as if the mother, or father if he is the one from outside the clan, just refuses to believe they created such a child. One of my cousins said he often wonders if some of them believed they could breed it out of us with their untainted selves and grew angry when that glory was denied them.”
Catryn blinked. “Now
that
was truly, deeply cynical. Unfortunately, I now realize your cousin may be right. She had no right, Orion. Mother or not, she had no right to do that to a child and, God help me, I cannot be sad she is dead. Siblings?”
“None. She found out very quickly that my father did not have a faithful bone in his body. From what I found out later, she held the foolish notion that she could make him see the error of his ways with scoldings and denying him the marriage bed.” He nodded when Catryn stared at him in openmouthed shock for a moment and then rolled her eyes. “Oddly enough, I do believe she was an intelligent woman, just not where it concerned my father and our gifts.”
“What was your father’s gift?”
“He could see the colors that surround all people.”
“I do not understand. What colors?”
“According to my father, each and every person has an aura, similar to the circle of light one can see around the moon from time to time, and each color within it implies something. He did a lot of study about it when he was not hunting a new woman for his bed. Wrote it all down and searched out anything any of our forefathers may have written about it. I have quite a large collection of papers and such in a box at my house. He once told me, just before my mother left us, that my mother’s aura was flashing with the colors of rage and fear, that he was sorry for that because he knew he was to blame for it. It appears he had married her because he thought the colors around her indicated that she was a peaceful, forgiving person, but those colors began to change when she found him with the downstairs maid two days after they were married and were preparing to leave for their wedding trip.”
“Oh dear. I think my colors would have changed as well. But it all makes no difference. She should never have done that to you. Never. And for a moment there I wanted to hunt her down and see it done to her until she was bleeding at my feet. Then I would kick her.”
Orion laughed and held her tighter. He had only allowed a few to know what his mother had done to him. And even fewer women had seen him completely undressed, ever since the first time he had seen that look of horror and disgust. He was astonished at how much it mattered to him that Catryn had not reacted so. He had seen that hint of shock, which she had quickly hidden, but shock he could accept. It was her anger that touched him the most.
“So are you staying here then?” she asked quietly.
“Yes, although I will slip out before the maid arrives, so do not see any insult when you wake to find me gone. I will do my best to try and salvage your reputation.”
“It will probably need some salvaging,” she said as she began to stroke his skin, loving how it warmed beneath her hands. “We may not have seen anyone who knows us, but that does not mean that word of this journey of mine will not leak back to London and the gossips. It matters not. I would change nothing.”
“Nothing?”
She looked into his beautiful blue eyes and slowly shook her head. “Nothing.”
He knew he ought to say something, murmur words to assure her that she was not just some woman to warm his bed for a while, yet he was tongue-tied for the first time in his life. Orion did not wish to say things he was not certain he felt or promise something he might not be able to give, which left little else to say aside from empty flatteries. He decided to just show her again how much he desired her.
Catryn was a little disappointed that there were no sweet words for her, or even for what they had shared, but shook it aside. It was better if he did not try to stroke her with well-practiced words. She wanted no empty promises, either. When he kissed her, she decided this was what she wanted. This heat and ferocity they shared was not false or empty. After he was gone from her life, she would be able to enjoy memories of a passion untainted by lies or flirtatious mutterings that had been too often said to others. She would make that be enough.
Chapter Thirteen
“Come along, Cat. Our meal will grow cold.”
Catryn sighed and moved away from the window. As he had said would happen, she had awoken to find herself alone in her bed. She had fought a brief sense of unease over how such stealth chilled the warm memories of passion savored and shared. It had to be done that way. They could not flaunt themselves or she would be utterly ruined. Worse, there could even be enough gossip that Orion would feel compelled to try and save her from it by offering to marry her. Tempting though the thought of him as her husband was, she had already suffered through one loveless marriage and had no intention of suffering through another. She allowed Orion to take her by the hand and lead her to the table where they would share a meal. The maid setting out their morning meal was plump and pretty. She was friendly as well, but not flirtatious. Her smiles were not weighted with an invitation for Orion to join her anytime, anywhere. It made for a pleasant change, Catryn thought as she sat down at the table.
“We are full to bursting,” said the maid. “That cursed rain is keeping most folk here and bringing others in to shelter. ’Tis the same at the White Hart.”
“I would have thought the rain would have caused people to stay where they were, at least until it eased.” Despite their need to chase down Morris, it had taken only one look out the window to decide they would be staying right where they were, a decision she had not even attempted to argue with.
“That you would, m’lady, but some were already on the road when it turned this bad. Some folk have no sense of how the weather can turn on you. Some think it will stop before the road becomes too dangerous but ’tis naught but mud and ruts already.” She shook her head. “Now they are cheek by jowl here.”
“Meg,” Orion said and smiled when the woman turned her attention to him, “where have you put everyone?”
“In the common room,” Meg replied. “We have only the two private parlors, this one and the one Sir Tupperton and his family are using. I know some places would put the other gentry in here, too, but the owner prides himself on making certain that private means private. You paid for privacy and so you will have it.”
Catryn looked around the large room she and Orion shared. They sat at a table near the fireplace, leaving two other small tables, a settee, and two chairs empty. She was about to speak to Orion about offering to share the room when he stood up and gently took Meg by the arm.
“Show me who is in the common room, Meg,” he said as he escorted her to the door. “I may be able to ease the crowding in there by inviting a few chosen people to share this parlor.”
A moment later, Catryn found herself alone, Meg’s effusive thank-you to Orion still ringing in her ears. She looked at the food and decided she was far too hungry to cling to propriety and wait for Orion to rejoin her before starting. A night filled with lovemaking obviously left one ravenous. As she filled her plate she idly wondered who Orion would choose. One last look at the rain streaming down the window had her hoping he chose well. Catryn strongly suspected they would be stuck with his choice for the rest of the day.
Orion stood in the doorway to the public room with Meg at his side and inwardly shook his head. People were shoulder to shoulder in the room, and seeing the speed with which the men were downing their ale, he knew some had decided the best way to spend a miserable day was to get soundly drunk. His gaze rested on a small family huddled on a narrow bench in a far corner of the room. A young woman held a small girl in her arms. Beside her was an older, sturdier woman who was keeping two young boys close by her side. Their clothing marked them as gentry but not wealthy or highly placed, quite possibly the family of a younger son. The looks on their faces told him that they knew how quickly things could turn ugly if the ale continued to be consumed with such greed.
There were only two other women in the room, but they were seated at a table and well guarded by four men. Considering their ages he suspected it was another family, but he would not be surprised if they were titled. Their clothes certainly marked them as wealthy, or very foolish with their money. They were also more comfortably situated than the other family, despite the crowd.
He turned to Meg and just as he was about to speak, an annoyingly recognizable feeling swept over him. His second gift was odd and a bit erratic, but he knew something was inside Meg. While she studied the crowd, he studied her, and then grinned, relief flooding his heart. There was definitely something inside Meg, but it was not disease as he had feared. For a moment he wondered if he should say anything, and then he took another look at the number of men drinking heavily and knew he had to say something, for she could not stay and work in here. Orion just hoped it was news she would welcome.
“Meg, I have chosen the ones I would like to share the parlor with Lady de Warrenne and myself,” he said and watched her glance toward the more fashionable group, her sigh badly smothered. “Not them.” He nodded toward the family trying so hard to disappear from view in the shadows cloaking the far corner of the room. “Them.”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” she said. “I was sorely worried about them, I was. I will go and tell them.”
He gently grasped her by the arm to stop her. “I will escort you over there. You need to be careful, Meg.”
“Oh, I do know it, sir. Most of these men were headed to a boxing match. Now they are stuck here and swilling ale as if it will all disappear tomorrow. That might fill the inn’s coffers but it could also turn ugly.” She shook her head. “And, even if it does not, there will still be a fair old mess to clean up come the morning.”
“You have some women to help you in that, I hope.” When she frowned at him, uncertainty clouding her eyes, he decided to just be blunt. “You should not be around these men or doing a lot of vigorous work or heavy lifting. It is dangerous for a woman to do so when so newly with child,” he finished in a near whisper and watched her eyes widen.
“With child? You think I am with child?” she whispered back. “How could you know that when I do not?”
“I come from a very, very large family.” He shrugged in a way that implied he had no rational explanation for her. “You could present me with a courtyard packed with women and I suspect I could find everyone within the mob who was with child. Trust me in this, you are carrying. Will you lose your job?”
Meg looked toward the young man filling tankards for the crowd and slowly shook her head. “No, Kenton and I are promised and he is the innkeeper’s only son. His da is always pushing us to hurry up and marry, even got us a wee cottage only a short walk from here, but it is a bit rough and we wanted to make it finer, get a few nice things for it, repair a few things and all, so were waiting for a bit.”
“Ah, then I am sorry but I think you must now reconsider the waiting.” Her smile was so big and bright Orion lost the last scrap of the unease he had been suffering over giving her the news.
“You are right about that. Now, best we give that poor, frightened little family over there the good news that they can get away from these rowdy idiots. Oh dear,” Meg said when the older man from the other family approached them.
“There must be another place my family can go to in this inn. This is intolerable,” the man said.
“I told you the private rooms and all the bedchambers are taken,” Meg said. “Three times I done told you that and it is still true. No one is leaving here in this weather, now are they?”
“You could put us into one of those private parlors. Just go tell whoever is in there that there is no choice.”
Meg shook her head. “Those are private parlors and the inn promises the guest who lets them that they will not be bothered or forced to share. We stand firm on that. Now, I can go and ask if Sir Tupperton—”
“Tupperton? I know that man. I am Lord Rishton. Take me to him. We have done some business together and I am certain he will be willing to share the parlor with me and my family.”
“No,
I
will be doing the asking first. That is the rule.”
“And she is also busy assisting me at the moment,” Orion said when the man looked prepared to loudly berate Meg.
“Who are you?” demanded Lord Rishton.
“Sir Orion Wherlocke,” he replied, bowing slightly, and for once smiled with pleasure when the man took a step back.
“I suppose it is you then who holds the other private parlor.”
“That I do, and I am about to go and invite that family over there to share it with me.” He nodded toward the group still huddled in the corner of the room.
“Them?”
The scorn in the man’s voice irritated Orion. “Yes, them. They have no men to protect them.”
The way Lord Rishton flushed and then sighed in resignation, silently recognizing that truth, softened Orion’s dislike of him just a little, but then Rishton scowled at Meg. “If you can tell Sir Wherlocke to share his parlor then you can go and tell Tupperton that he has to share his.”
“I did not tell Sir Wherlocke to share, m’lord; he offered and came here to see who might need it the most. When I am done helping him get that family settled, I will go and ask Sir Tupperton if he wishes to share with you and that you will also share the cost if he does.”
Lord Rishton harrumphed. “You take a lot upon yourself, girl.”
“I am the maid for those parlors. It is my job. Now, as I said, I will return when I am done with all I need to do now and then let you know what Sir Tupperton’s answer is.”
“Maid of the private parlors, are you?” Orion asked Meg as Lord Rishton strode back to his table and they started winding their way through the crowd toward the small family in the corner.
“I am now, and will be from now on,” said Meg. “Gentler work that, and I will not have to be dealing with this lot.” She glanced at Kenton. “Best to have a word with him, too, before much more time passes, as I have to tell him and his da that I will not be working in here now.”
Orion looked at the family they approached and could see that they had spotted him and Meg. The two women were frantically whispering back and forth, pausing only to stare at him for a moment before starting their whispered conversation again. The closer he got the more sure he became that he saw hope in their glances toward him, but that made no sense. They did not know him and few people stared at him with hope, so few that he could not immediately recall a single one.
“Mistress Pryce, this is Sir Orion Wherlocke,” Meg said when they reached the family. “He is in one of the private parlors with Lady de Warrenne and he has kindly offered to allow you and your family to shelter in there.”
Both women had stood up when he arrived and were attempting to untangle themselves from the children, but the younger one still managed a credible curtsy, while the older woman managed to bob up and down a little while the boys still clung to her. “I am Mistress Mervyn Pryce, sir,” said the younger woman, “and this is my mother, Mistress Anna Pugh.” Mervyn smiled tentatively, watching him closely.
“Ah, fate is a funny thing, is it not?” He smiled at them, kissed Mrs. Pryce’s hand, and then kissed Mrs. Pugh’s. “A Pugh. I did make a wise choice.” He glanced at the younger woman. “I do not recall the Pryces though.”
“Fine people, sir,” said Mrs. Pugh. “They are kin to the Pughs. Your cousin, the Duke of Elderwood, has a few of them working for him.”
“Does he now? Excellent. Gather your belongings and come with me then. Did you come by stage?” he asked as he took a large bag from Mrs. Pugh and then began to herd them through the boisterous crowd.
“Oh, nay, sir,” answered Mervyn. “His Grace insisted that we make use of his carriage. He said he would never allow women and children to ride about on the public stage. The driver and his son are staying in the stables, as he believed it would be very wise to keep an eye on the team and the carriage. I was near ready to take us all and go join them there.”
“I believe you will find this much more to your liking.” He opened the door to the private parlor and waved them inside before turning to Meg. “I think we will be in need of more food and drink.”
“And some bedding for them,” said Meg, “so they can be comfortable in the night.”
“They can take my bedchamber. Just move my things over to Lady de Warrenne’s so that they are not cluttering up the room.” He just cocked one brow when she looked at him. “I can bed down in here or, if the crowd becomes too rowdy, go and guard my lady.” He knew she was not fooled by his words but, despite the smile in her eyes, she just nodded and hurried away. Orion hoped Catryn accepted his plan with equal calm.
When he stepped into the room it was to find that Catryn had already introduced herself. The children were seated at the table while the women cut some bread and buttered it for them. Orion smiled at Catryn when she walked over to him.
“You chose very well,” she said. “I could almost feel their relief when they entered this room.”
“I chose even better than I could have anticipated. It seems they are from Elderwood, the family seat of the Vaughns and the Wherlockes. One is a Pugh, a family that has long served mine and the Vaughns, and the younger woman is a Pryce, relations of the Pughs, and one of another family that has people working at Elderwood. We can also relax and not worry about what is said. Watching one’s every word can be wearying.”
“Why are they so far from home?”
“Perhaps we can discover that while we all eat. Here comes Meg with the additional food I requested.”
“It is needed.” Catryn blushed as she watched Meg set out the food. “I was rather hungry.” She ignored his grin as she moved toward the table.
Once the food was served and everyone had a plateful before them, Catryn asked, “Where are you traveling to, Mrs. Pryce?”
“To Portsmouth,” she replied, “and please, call me Mervyn, m’lady.”