This Heart of Mine (20 page)

“It never occurred to me that you would not be a virgin, Angel,” came his quiet reply.

It was at this point that they arrived at the inn, and, quickly dismounting, Robin lifted his bride from the saddle. Hand in hand, they entered the building and made their way upstairs to the rooms that the earl had booked earlier. It had been planned that Velvet and Angel would share one of the bedchambers while the gentlemen slept in the other. Now Robin led his wife into that second room, stopping only long enough to remove Alex’s saddlebag and place it in the small parlor where they had eaten earlier. Once in the bedchamber with Angel, he closed the door and threw the bolt.

“I—I have no nightgown,” she said.

“There is no need,” he answered, and then, pulling her into his
arms, he kissed her passionately, not even hearing the door to the parlor open and close outside.

“They can’t be here already,” said Velvet. “Surely they would have waited for us, Alex.”

His eye lit upon the saddlebag. “They are here, Velvet.”

“Oh, good! Let us have the innkeeper make a caudle cup, and we shall drink to the bridal couple’s good health!” She moved to the door, but he blocked her path.

“Nay, lass. The bedchamber door is shut, and I do not think Robin would welcome our intrusion at this time.”

“But there’s been no caudle cup! ’Tis a poor bridal ceremony without a celebration.”

Alex smiled. “Many a couple has done without the caudle cup, Velvet. There are other things more important to a bridal couple on their wedding night.”

She snorted, but then a slow flush crept up her neck and into her face. “Oh,” she said helplessly.

Alex chuckled. “Go to bed, lass. The queen reviews the troops on the morrow, and that should be something to tell your gran-children one fine day.”

“Where will you sleep?” she asked, realizing his predicament.

“Out here on the floor by the fire,” he said. “I’ve laid my head in worse places in my time, lass. Good night.”

The night had grown chill, and Velvet wasted little time in unlacing her gown, removing it and creeping beneath the covers wearing only her chemisette. Outside the tiny window she could hear the cricket songs, soothing and cheerful. Beyond her door she heard Alex moving about for a short while and guessed from the friendly crackle that he had built up the fire in the little fireplace. She smiled wryly, considering the possibility of changing places with him: her cold bed for his floor by the fire.

She was just dozing off when a short, piercing cry rent the quiet. Trembling, she sat up, listening intently. It had been such a piteous cry. Where had it come from? Then she heard a low moaning and realized that it came from the other bedchamber.

With a little sob, she leaped from the bed and fled out into the parlor straight into a protective pair of warm arms. She couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Alex gently lifted her up, then cradled her in his arms as he sat down in a chair by the fire. He said nothing, waiting instead until she had quieted. Finally she gazed up at him, saying, “Did you not hear that terrible cry, Alex? Then I heard moaning through the wall. It gave me such a fright. Is this place haunted?”

“Nay, lass. ’Tis not haunted. I imagine the cry you heard was your friend, Angel.”

“Why would she cry out as if hurt? Robin would never hurt her!” Velvet protested.

“ ’Tis not a hurt a man inflicts willingly upon a maid, lass.”

“I don’t understand,” was her reply. “What do you mean?”

There was simply no delicate way for him to put it, and besides, he thought somewhat irritably, he should not be the one to have to explain such things to her, yet now he had no choice. “Your friend cried out when Robin pierced her maidenhead,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, God,” she whispered, and he could hear the fear in her voice. Then she began to tremble again.

“It only happens once, Velvet,” he said, helplessly attempting to calm her fears, and his arms tightened about her.

“I am so afraid, Alex,” she said. “I am so afraid of this wild Scots earl who demands marriage of me. My mother has never explained to me how it is between a man and a woman. Oh, I’ve watched the animals at the farm mate, but ’tis not the same for people, is it? Oh, Alex! I feel such a fool!”

“Velvet, Velvet,” he murmured at her soothingly. “ ’Twill be all right, lass, you’re nae a fool for not knowing what lovemaking is. You’re but a maid, and your earl will be glad of it, sweetheart.”

She looked up at him, her face streaked with tears. She looked so very young and woebegone that his heart almost burst with the love he felt for her. Her next words startled him.

“Make love to me, Alex,” she said softly.

“Velvet lass!”

“Make love to me,” she repeated. “You’re my friend, Alex. You showed me kissing. Now I want you to make love to me so that I will know what to expect.” She was very serious, and he resisted the urge to chuckle bubbling within him.

“Sweetheart,” he said patiently, “it would not be right for me to take what is rightfully another man’s. A maidenhead can be only lost once.”

Now it was Velvet’s turn to giggle. “I didn’t mean
that,”
she said. “Surely there is more to lovemaking than just
that.”
She looked at him questioningly.

Alex felt his heart leap with excitement within him. Every time he was with her now, he found himself wanting more than just the sweetness of her lips. “Do you trust me enough, Velvet, to accept my word when I tell you we have gone far enough along Eros’s road?”

She nodded, her eyes wide, her face solemn as a small owl’s. Deep inside, he repressed a hard shudder. She was so damningly
innocent and so incredibly tempting a tidbit. He envied Robin, who was now making love to his bride. This lovely girl in his lap was his betrothed wife under the law and he longed to tell her the truth, to take her into the other bedchamber and initiate her into the many arts of Venus. Instinctively he knew she would be an apt pupil.

“Well?” Her voice pierced his consciousness, and she looked up at him curiously.

Brazen little minx, he thought, amused. Then, with a swift motion, he opened her chemisette and, sliding it over her silky shoulders, bared her to the waist. Velvet gasped with surprise at this bold maneuver, and Alex’s head swooped down as his mouth found hers in a blazing kiss. A ball of fire burst within her stomach and spread flaming throughout her whole body. His lips worked on hers, teasing them open, and, with a swift movement, his tongue touched hers. Her heart hammered wildly in her ears as his tongue’s warm smoothness caressed the inside of her mouth, touching her sensitive flesh, running along her teeth. He had never kissed her like
that
before, and Velvet, though a little bit frightened, found it wildly exciting.

Then his big hand began to caress her satiny flesh, smoothing the roundness of her shoulder, sliding down her long arms, moving up her bared torso to cup a breast. She thought that she Would faint right then and there. An incredible, aching warmth began to seep through her veins. When Kit Marlowe had touched her, she had wanted to die from the shame and frustration of her anger and helplessness, but this was different. Alex’s hand was gentle, loving. She knew that should she ask him to stop at any moment he would comply with her wishes. She did not, however, want him to stop, and that in itself was puzzling to her.

“Dear heaven, lass, but ye are so beautiful!” She heard his voice mutter thickly in her ear. Her head fell back, and his lips slowly kissed the long line of her throat; his hand tangled in her auburn hair, cupping her head as his lips found hers once more. She was conscious of his hand touching her breasts again, his fingers gently teasing her nipples until they thrust forward, throbbing with the sweet torment he was inflicting upon them.

Velvet shivered with pure excitement. If this was lovemaking, it was wondrously sweet. With a sigh of rapture, she tried to move closer to him. The arm that had been cradling her head moved down to encircle her waist. The hand that had played with her young breasts now slipped down beneath her chemisette. Then he slowly began to move it upward again, sliding it easily along the smooth skin of her long legs. For a moment, she considered the lightness of his actions, but honeyed heat once more raced
through her veins, rendering her helpless to impede his movements. Her consciousness became peopled by a thousand small, fluttering butterflies, and she was only aware of the pleasure he offered her.

As he stroked the softness of her inner thighs, Alex knew that he must stop. Already he was perilously near to losing his own control. His manhood ached with longing for Velvet, and he was regretting that he had ever let the wench tease him into this. Better he had waited until their marriage, when the natural conclusion of such loveplay could be effected. Slowly he removed his hand from beneath her garment and held her close.

“Enough, lass,” he said quietly. “I can bear no more and keep my promise to preserve yer honor. Ye’re ripe as a peach, Velvet, and I am hungry to pluck yer fruit.”

“Please, Alex, just love me a little while longer. I hurt with such a strange wanting.”

He kissed her gently. “Nay, sweetheart. Remember yer promise to me. We must stop now.” Quietly he redid her chemisette, pulling it up and tying the little silk ribbons.

She signed. “Will you love me again soon, Alex?”

“Aye,” he whispered, and then with a sigh of his own, he rose to his feet, holding her against his heart. Without another word, he returned her to her bed and, tucking the coverlet about her, left the room, firmly closing the door behind him.

Velvet lay in the darkness for what seemed a long while, reliving over and over again his every touch, his every kiss. She wanted to rise from the bed and run back to him, but she knew she couldn’t. She could barely await the morning when she might see him again. Dear heaven! she thought. Am I falling in love with Alex? It was her last conscious thought before sleep overtook her.

The innkeeper called them early in the morning, for the queen was to address the troops, and all the court was to be present. As a Maid of Honor, Velvet had to be in attendance on Her Majesty that day. As the new Countess of Lynmouth, Angel would be by her husband’s side in a prominent place amongst the courtiers. In their hurry to get ready, they needed to help each other dress, and any awkwardness that might have been between them was forgotten in the rush. Neither girl could eat the sumptuous breakfast that had been ordered, although Alex and Robin both ate with fierce appetites the eggs poached in heavy cream and marsala wine, the thick slices of pink ham, the loaf of hot bread that each slathered with freshly churned butter and plum preserves. Green apple cider, freshly pressed from the early apples, served to wash their meal down.

“How can you eat like that?” grumbled Velvet at the two men.

“It’s positively disgusting at so early an hour!”

“Sun’s up,” said Robin with a grin, “and besides I find I have a monstrous appetite this morning for some reason.” He sent Angel a passionate look, and she blushed furiously and scolded him.

“Fie, my lord, to tease me so!” But her voice was sweet, and the look she sent her bridegroom equally so.

“And what is your excuse, Alex Gordon?” demanded Velvet, somewhat irritably. For some reason she did not share their good humor.

“When one cannot satisfy one appetite, one satisfies another,” he said calmly as he buttered another piece of bread. “More cider, Rob?”

Velvet retreated to her small bedchamber and, flinging open the tiny window, leaned out. It was a glorious summer’s day, this eighth day of August. She sighed deeply.

“Are you all right, Velvet?” Angel had come into the room behind her and gently shut the door.

Velvet turned from her view of the inn garden. “Are
you
all right?” she demanded a trifle nervously.

“Why, yes!” Angel exclaimed. “Why would you worry about me?”

“I heard you …” Velvet blushed scarlet. “I mean after last night …” The color came into her face and neck once more. “What I mean is, did my brother hurt you?”

Angel’s eyes suddenly lit with understanding. Poor Velvet. She was so innocent, but then so had Angel been until last night when her bridegroom had introduced her to delights not even previously imagined. Angel put an arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Robin would never hurt me. He is the kindest, gentlest man alive.”

“Are you falling in love with him?”

“Velvet, it is much too soon for me to know such a thing, but I believe that I shall be able to love him in time. For now, I respect him, and I am grateful that the good Lord has given me such a good and kind husband.” She smiled at Velvet. “What a dear sister you will be to me, Velvet, and having never had a sister I shall appreciate you very much.”

“Am I a fool, Angel?”

“Nay, my dearest. I love you for worrying and caring.”

The two girls then saw to their last-minute toilette as, outside the bedchamber door, Robin exhorted his wife and sister to hurry. Arm in arm, they exited the inn, both looking beautiful, Angel in her turquoise gown and Velvet in an exquisite creation of yellow brocade, the underskirt and the sleeves embroidered with black
butterflies. Today the queen was allowing her maids to wear their most elegant gowns instead of their usual virginal white.

Outside the inn they found not the coach that Velvet had expected her brother to supply, but four fine mounts that would take them to Tilbury Plain where the army had assembled to hear the queen. The Earl of Lynmouth assured his sister that as they would be riding slowly there would be little danger of the dust ruining their lovely gowns. Then Robin lifted his bride up onto the saddle of a gentle bay-colored mare, smiling as he did so. Velvet saw a soft, intimate look pass between them.

As she turned away, Alex put his hands about her tiny waist and lifted her into her own saddle. Their eyes met for a long moment, and she felt herself quiver ever so slightly beneath his firm grip. He said nothing, but in his eyes was a look she could not fathom. Then he reached up as she settled herself and gently touched her cheek. Velvet felt suddenly and unaccountably shy of this man whom she claimed as a friend, with whom she had shared a first kiss, and far more. Her brother and his bride, however, noticed nothing, for they were far too involved in themselves.