The Intended (11 page)

Jaime only gave him a sweet smile and
returned to the dressings. Like a summer storm gathering power, his
dark mood charged the air in the room, and Jaime waited for the
next onslaught. But, meanwhile, she worked with quick hands and
hoped her maid Caddy would arrive soon. That was the way it had
been the day before. Upon awakening, Mary had sent Caddy after her
truant cousin. And Jaime, in turn, had sweet-talked the slight,
middle-aged woman into staying with Malcolm until she herself could
again return to the surgery.

Jaime thought back over the past few days.
The first night after Graves had left for Cambridge, she had been
determined to stay away from the surgery. But that had turned out
to be mere foolishness, since she’d spent most of the night going
back and forth between her bedchamber and Malcolm’s sickbed. She
was certain she’d brought more attention to herself than if she’d
simply stayed beside him. But she hadn’t intended to remain here
either of the two previous nights.

“If you’ll promise to just lie on your back,
I won’t retie that strip for now,” she said, finishing up the
dressing on his chest.

Malcolm grunted and she eyed the bloody wrap
just above his hip. She feared that the wound might be festering,
and she glanced up at his face. Seeing the wry look he wore, a
blush crept into her cheeks. It would be quite uncomfortable
changing that dressing while his watchful eyes smirked at her every
move. She jumped when he spoke.

“I am certain there is nothing beneath these
covers that you haven’t seen before, is there?”

“Of course not!” she answered tartly,
blushing even more fiercely than before.

A gentle knock at the door brought her
quickly to her feet. Giving a soft command to enter, Jaime watched
as her maid quietly pushed the door open and limped into the room.
Caddy looked hesitantly at the conscious prisoner and then at her
mistress. Handing the unused dressings over to the maid, Jaime
turned back to Malcolm. He had a look of surprise on his face .
“I’ll leave you in Caddy’s care, for now. But I expect you to treat
her with respect. Do you hear?”

A smile of amusement wrinkled the corners of
Malcolm’s eyes. “Are you telling me that these foolhardy English
dogs think me so weak that they will entrust me to this wee woman?
On her own?”

“Trusting?” She scoffed in a hushed voice.
“Hardly. There are more than enough men outside guarding these
doors. And I’m quite certain that any one of them would be more
than pleased to finish the job their master started aboard that
French ship.”

Jaime pulled the sheet up to Malcolm’s chin,
tucking him as if he were a bairn. “Stay right here for the wee
time it’ll take to regain your strength. You’ll have ample time to
show us your foolhardiness once you’ve healed.”

As the velvet of the dress pulled off her
shoulder, her breasts sprang free of the low neckline, and the
knight fastened his lips to first one nipple, and then the
other.

Her moans were deep-throated, resonant with
desire, as she pulled at his hair with long, white fingers.

“Take me,” she commanded, yanking his head
back and looking at him with eyes clouded with lust. “Take me
now.”

“You’re a fool,” he growled, pushing himself
to his feet, his hands never leaving off of fondling her breasts.
The knight looked down at her moist lips, swollen from his rough
kisses. He knew he could not resist. “You heard the horns as well
as I. The hunting party will...”

“Then stop talking,” she ordered huskily,
leaning forward and pulling at the laces that held his codpiece in
place. “I’ve waited too long...”

His manhood, thick and hard, emerged from its
confines, and a tremble raced visibly through her as she took it in
her hands, stroking its length. The sound of horns again came
through the open window, this time they were only an arrowshot from
the palace.

Catherine stood, a daredevil look flashing
into her eyes. “Come, my buck,” she enticed, pulling off her
starched linen cap and tossing back her hair.

He dug his hands roughly into her waist and
turned her around, forcing her face and her exposed breasts down
onto the billowing mattress. Taking fistfuls of material in his
hands, he pulled the dress up, exposing her ivory legs and
heart-shaped buttocks. With a laugh, she tried to squirm around and
face him, but he wouldn’t let her. With one strong hand he pushed
her forward onto the high, curtained bed, and with the other he
tore away her linen underclothes. Then he stepped between her
legs.

Catherine was ready for him, wet. She was
always ready, it seemed. Parting the folds of her womanhood with
the tip of his shaft, he felt the flush in his face and instantly
gave way to the primal animal urge that blocked out all thought,
obliterated all reason, all judgment. He drove into her with a
single powerful thrust, exulting in the gasping cry that emitted
from her lips.

Holding himself perfectly still, the knight
clenched his jaw, waiting as she began to writhe beneath him, her
hips undulating as she sheathed him. He reached forward with both
hands, taking her golden brown hair in both hands and pulling her
head back and turning it until he could see her heavy-lidded eyes,
her mouth partially open, the tip of her tongue visible between her
full lips.

With excruciating slowness, he slid backward,
pausing for only a moment before driving again into her. Again he
withdrew and again he plunged, his quickening pace matched by the
writhing motions of her hips. Faster and faster he thrust, her
cries growing in volume and pitch. But he could no longer hear her.
Aware only of the pulsing rhythm in his head and the blinding
desire to bury himself deeply within her, the knight rode
her—holding her hair like a mane and thrusting again and
again—until, with a mighty shudder, his body arched and he released
his seed into her.

In a few moments, the knight—still breathing
heavily from his exertion—began to extricate himself. As he stood
up, he immediately laced his codpiece, and gazed down at the
voluptuous beauty, who rolled lazily onto her back. One of
Catherine’s hands lay on her chest and as he watched, her fingers
sensuously traced the curves of her exposed breast. Her mouth was
set in a half smile that conveyed a hint of mockery. He’d seen that
look many times before and felt his lips curl into a similar look.
The sound of horses and shouting could be heard outside the palace
gate, and the knight nodded his head at the window.

“You’d best make yourself presentable for the
king, my sweet slut.”

“Don’t you find me presentable now, my buck?”
she asked alluringly, her finger circling her erect nipple.

“Aye, for me, you are. But I don’t know that
the old boar’s heart will hold out, if you don’t take some care.”
The knight turned and headed for the door.

“I know how to manage him,” Catherine called
softly, rising slightly as he pulled open the thick oak door. He
paused to cast one last look back at her. Her face was wearing the
same mocking smile. “But, Edward, do try to ride ahead of the party
a bit earlier tomorrow.”

“You are being unfaithful and you know
it.”

Jaime rolled her eyes and gestured helplessly
with her hands as she paced the room. “Unfaithful to whom,
Mary?”

“You know who as well as I, Jaime Macpherson.
To Edward.”

Jaime made an elaborate show of choking back
her laughter, trying to make her cousin’s words seem ridiculous.
But Mary simply stood with her hands on her hips and frowned.

Jaime decided that Mary was not about to be
laughed off. “Then perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what
I have done that could possibly be construed as
unfaithful
?”

“Very well! Where have you spent the past two
nights? I’ll tell you. You’ve spent them—
two full nights
—in
that man’s room. And that was only after wearing a path to the
surgery every hour the first night Edward was gone. Just how do you
think Edward would feel—how do you expect anyone in the family to
feel—when his beloved, his
intended
, will happily spend the
night in another man’s room, but resolutely avoids spending so much
as a moment alone in his company? Have you thought of Edward’s
feelings, Jaime? He is a sweet, loving man—heartsick at having to
leave you—and yet you...you...”

Jaime pressed her hands to her temples and
gazed in wide-eyed disbelief at the younger woman’s expression of
righteous anger on her cousin’s behalf. If it wasn’t bad enough
that she’d had nothing better than a hard chair for a bed these
past three nights, that she’d barely been able to close her eyes
for more than a few moments—now, to come back to her room and be
subjected to
this
! She shook her aching head incredulously.
“Mary, I find it terribly difficult to believe you feel this way.
You aren’t serious, are you?” Seeing no change in her cousin’s
demeanor, Jaime approached her. “Please tell me this is all in
jest.”

“Nay, Jaime. I am totally in earnest in my
feelings on this!” she answered. “What you have been doing is
extremely inappropriate—considering Edward’s intentions regarding
you. And since I am the only one who has been witness to behavior
entirely unbefitting your situation, I see no alternative...”

“You see not alternative to what, Mary?”
Jaime asked, a note of challenge creeping into her tone. “Do you
intend to run to Edward and inform him of my...inappropriate
behavior?”

Mary’s eyes flickered away for a moment. “You
don’t understand the Howards, Jaime. In this family, well, such
misdeeds...”

Jaime’s fists tightened at her sides as her
anger welled up in her chest. “Misdeeds? You call caring for a
dying man a ‘misdeed’? You consider helping another
‘inappropriate’? Is having a heart and showing compassion wrong in
this family? Mary Howard, if you believe this, you are the most
closed-minded, ill-begotten, young woman I have ever known!”

“Nay, Jaime...”

“To think for over a year now I’ve considered
you a confidante, a friend...a sister!” Jaime stepped back. “How
could I have been so blind? If you truly feel this way, Mary, then
I want to see your face no longer. Go and tell him, cousin. Go and
proclaim all of these faults you see in me. Because if Edward
Howard feels the same as you...”

Mary came quickly forward and reached
entreatingly for Jaime's hands. “Jaime, I...I never meant my words
to come out so cruel. But...”

Jaime turned her back on the miserable woman.
Her head pounded with pain. Her eyes welled with tears. “There is
no more to say, Mary.”

“Jaime, I...I would never betray your trust.
I...simply thought...well, you just get these crazy notions
sometimes. You don’t think about your future.” Mary wiped her tears
from her own cheeks and laid a hand on her cousin’s shoulder,
coaxing Jaime to face her. “I just thought that if I were stronger,
then I could make you see some sense. Make you think about what
might come out of your...coldness to Edward.”

“My future with Edward—my manner of treating
him now—is my concern, Mary, not yours! I will not allow you or
anyone else in this family to force me into his arms.” Jaime rubbed
her temples. “Despite what you think, I believe I am a good woman.
And one who will not act against either her will or her good
judgment.”

“I know you are a good woman, Jaime,” Mary
conceded guiltily, “Please forgive my foolishness just now.”

There was no point in holding back. Jaime had
seen Mary’s bouts of righteousness before and understood them for
what they were. They were short-lived, harmless, and soon
forgotten. But somehow this time, it had hurt. Jaime pushed away
the thought that perhaps she had struck too close to home. But
there was no point in holding a grudge. She allowed herself to be
turn around, and the two cousins embraced. “I don’t ever want to
talk about this again, Mary. Do you understand?”

Mary took a deep breath and nodded.

Jaime drew back and looked into her eyes.
“Your anger with me was because of the care I have shown to the
Scot and not so much for my treatment of Edward. Isn’t that
true?”

Mary nodded.

“I know that this noble family is all you
have experienced. But the appropriateness of compassion is not
dictated by the rank of the person in need. ‘Tis true I’ve spent
many hours at that surgery, but I will never believe that caring
for another human being is a betrayal of Edward. If one of the
duke’s falcons were wounded, if one of the dogs in the kennels were
ill...”

“I am so confused by all this, Jaime.” Mary
turned and walked to the middle of the room. “In this past year
I’ve learned to love you as a sister. Even before Catherine left
for court, you were so special to me. But I fear the way you now
break every rule...”

“Which ‘rule’ tells us that we must neglect
our Christian duty to care for those in need, Mary? Is this what
the good duke asks of his household?”

“Nay, of course not. ‘Tis just that you have
become so defiant of established ways. And the Howard family is a
very traditional family.”

“And, of course, the duke and these
traditions are always right!” Jaime said facetiously.

Mary nodded vigorously. “Aye, His Grace’s
ways are always right because he only wants the best for those
under his care. And we should be grateful for his generosity.”

“Oh, Mary!” Jaime responded, spurning the
thought of such blind faith.

Mary’s cheeks flushed with anger. “Look at
all the family has done for Catherine. She is no older than we are,
and yet, because of the duke, she is now in a position to marry the
king himself!”

Jaime looked away and said nothing. Though
she would hold her tongue on that particular point, Catherine’s
position was one Jaime hardly considered enviable.