“Philippa’s good fortune is owed to our uncle,” Elizabeth said, “as is all of ours.”
Banon nodded again in agreement.
Thomas Owein Colin Hay was baptized shortly thereafter in the same church in which his mother had been. He had two godfathers standing for him: the man for whom he was named, and his uncle Gilbert Hay, who had come down from Scotland as Baen had predicted. The baby howled as the holy water was laved over his dark head, and it was considered an excellent omen, for the devil had been driven from the child in that simple act of baptism. His mother, his father, and his relations smiled, well pleased.
“He’s a braw laddie,” Gilbert Hay said, looking down at the infant in his arms. “Da will be pleased when I tell him.”
“I wish he had come with you,” Baen said.
“Och, you know Da. He rarely goes off his own lands. He’s been up at Glenkirk of late. The old earl is not well. They think he may not last another winter, but who knows? He’s a tough old man,” Gilbert remarked.
There was feasting in honor of Thomas Owein Colin Hay. Long tables were set before the house. There was venison, lamb, and beef roasted. There was trout, and salmon broiled in wine. There were artichokes for the high board, peas, and braised lettuces for below. There was bread, sweet butter, and several kinds of cheeses. There were jellies, and spun-sugar subtleties shaped like lambs. There was even an enormous cake soaked in marsala wine with enough slices for everyone. And the Lammas Day traditions were all observed as well. The Friarsgate folk admired the new heir, and then they ate and drank. And after the sun had set and the infant was put in his cradle, Sadie by his side, there was dancing and singing.
Finally the Friarsgate folk returned to their own homes. The servants cleared away all evidence of the celebration as the family adjourned to the hall. Alexander Hepburn had disappeared with his brother James into the darkness. Gone hunting for pretty maids, Elizabeth thought with a smile. She watched as her half brothers, twins Thomas and Edmund, played hide-and-seek with their nieces, Katherine and Thomasina. The four were so close in age that they seemed more brothers and sisters.
“A most splendid day!” Lord Cambridge enthused. “Your table is most munificent, dear girl, and my namesake a fine young fellow. I have enjoyed myself quite nicely, and Will too. We shall come again, perhaps next spring.”
“You and Will are always welcome, Uncle,” Elizabeth told him. “And I want young Thomas to know you as my sisters and I have.”
Sweet wine and sugar wafers were now brought around, and the family remained, gossiping. Logan Hepburn reached out and took his wife’s hand. Rosamund smiled back at him in return. They both knew she would not come to Friarsgate as often now as she had in the past. With Baen and Elizabeth in charge the manor was safe and in good hands. And there was a male heir, the first in several generations. He was glad, for he loved Rosamund more today than he had when he had first seen her as a child, more than when he had lusted after her and she had fallen in love with another man. More now than he ever had. He wanted his wife all to himself.
The hour grew late. Banon and Robert Neville took their daughters and went upstairs. Lord Cambridge and Will had been the first to retire. Rosamund and Logan bade Elizabeth and Baen a good night. Logan had seen the twins settled in the hayloft of one of the barns. In the first barn he had gone into he had heard a great deal of giggling and voices from the loft above, and knew where his two older lads had gotten to, with two Friarsgate lasses undoubtedly. He grinned, pleased, at the same time hoping no damage would be done to the girls in question.
Finally Baen and Elizabeth found themselves alone in their hall. Together they laid the timber across the front door. Together they walked about seeing to the fires in the hearths and snuffing out the candles. Standing at the foot of the stairs, they embraced, kissing slowly. His big hand smoothed her cheek as he smiled into her eyes. Then together they ascended the staircase to their bedchamber. Nancy had been sent to her bed earlier, and so they undressed each other. It was the first time since Baen had left her the previous autumn that they had made love, and each was a little shy of the other.
She helped him off with his breeches and jerkin, then unlaced his shirt. Her blond head bent to kiss the warm flesh of his chest as she pressed the shirt from his shoulders and it slipped down his tall form. He shuddered as her mouth feathered little kisses across his skin. Then, pulling her up, he turned her about and unlaced her gown. It was silk, the blue of the sky today. It was Elizabeth’s favorite color, and it suited her. He pushed the gown down to her waist, unlaced her petticoats, and then lifted her from the tangle of fabric. Only her chemise remained, and Elizabeth smelled sweet in his embrace.
“I have longed for this moment for months,” he told her.
“I have longed more,” she admitted. “Sit down.” And when he had she took off his boots, putting each of his legs between her two and pulling firmly. Then, turning about, she unrolled his stockings down his legs and over his feet. “You have such big feet and toes,” she remarked with a small smile.
“Now you sit,” he said. And he removed her shoes, stockings, and garters, his hands slipping up her legs beneath her chemise to caress her warmth.
Elizabeth murmured a sigh of contentment, standing quickly, pulling him up, and unlacing the linen drawers he was wearing beneath his breeches today. He did not usually wear such a garment. He was completely naked. “Now,” she said wickedly to him, “I mean to have my way with you, sir.”
“First, madame, we must be equals in this matter,” he replied, drawing her chemise over her head so that she was naked too, “for I mean to have my way with you too, Elizabeth Meredith Hay, my love, my wife.” His arms tightened about her as their bodies pressed against each other. “Do you know how much I want you?”
“Aye,” she responded to the question, her hazel-green eyes twinkling. “Your desire is already in evidence, my love. Much, much in evidence.”
His dark head descended, and he gave her a slow, deep kiss, his tongue pushing easily past her lips to plunge into her mouth. Together their tongues danced in a ballet of wet longing. Elizabeth sighed a long sigh. His hands cupped her face and he spread kisses across it, his mouth brushing her closed eyelids, her cheeks, returning to her mouth to drink the nectar of her rising passion. Raising his head he whispered to her, “I love you! I love you!”
Tears crept from beneath her thick lashes, but her eyes remained closed. “I have never been so happy, Baen. Swear to me that you will never leave me again. Swear!”
“Open your eyes and see the truth of my vow,” he told her, and when their eyes met he said, “Only death will ever part us, Elizabeth, and that I cannot control, but I will always love you. Even from beyond the grave! And I will never leave you again, except should death call me. But my love will always be with you.” Then, picking her up, he laid her in their bed, which smelled fresh with lavender.
Elizabeth held out her arms to her husband, drawing him down into her embrace. “I love you, Baen, son of Colin.” And she smiled sweetly into his face.
He cradled her now with an arm, and a large hand reached out to caress her breasts. They were fuller now than he remembered, and then he thought of his son, who nursed lustily at those beautiful breasts. His tongue snaked out to lick at one of her nipples. Almost at once a droplet of milk oozed out. Unable to control himself, he closed his mouth over the nipple and suckled it, swallowing the liquid that poured forth into his mouth, almost choking him. Was it wrong? he wondered. But he could not cease, and Elizabeth did not forbid it. Even when he had drained the breast dry he was unable to tear himself away from it for a few moments. It was one of the most exciting experiences he had ever known.
His fingers pushed themselves between her nether lips, and he found her wet with her own desire. He played with the sensitive flesh, rubbing at the jewel of her sex until she was whimpering and her juices were flowing even more. He met her gaze and put those wet fingers in her mouth. Her eyes widened with surprise. “The taste of you is intoxicating, wife,” he growled. “I must have more!” Then his dark head pushed between her thighs, and he began to greedily feast upon her.
Elizabeth cried out with surprise, shocked to feel his tongue on her most secret flesh. Then she realized she was enjoying the sensations he was creating within her. She heard herself begging him not to stop, and he didn’t. Her fingers kneaded the thick, dark hair on his head, digging into his scalp. His tongue moved to lick at her thighs, and then pushed into her love channel. She almost screamed with the thrilling little shivers racing down her spine. “Baen!” She cried his name, but he was so lost in his lust for her that he barely heard her voice.
Now, unable to restrain himself any longer, Baen mounted his wife and drove himself deep into her warmth. He was consumed by her, and did not hear her cry of pain, for she was still sore from the birth of their son almost two months ago. But she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. Elizabeth wrapped her legs about his thick torso, her fingernails raking down his back in her desire as she caught the rhythm of their shared desire. Never, she thought dreamily, had their pleasure in each other been so great. “Baen! Baen!” she cried his name aloud, and the infant in the cradle by the fire stirred.
“Let go!” he groaned in her ear. “I cannot wait much longer, wife! Let go!”
“Together!” she hissed at him, squeezing his lance within her.
