He yanked her against him by her buttocks. “Because your delicious little body and your eagerness set me aflame as no other woman ever has, my Rosamund,” he told her. “Because now that you have caught my fancy in this manner, I shall have to satisfy us both before I share my news with you, you wicked wench!” His mouth found hers in a hot kiss, demanding, insisting, and she returned his ardor. “You know I love you, sweetheart, don’t you?” he said breaking off their kiss.
“Aye, my lord, I do. And you will not be surprised to learn that I return your lordship’s passion. I am mad for you, Patrick! I feel as if my whole life has been leading up to this moment in time. How in the name of God is that possible? I loved Hugh, for he was a father to me. I loved Owein, for he loved me and Friarsgate. But this is different. This lunacy has naught to do with Friarsgate. It is only us! I could stay in this chamber with you forever!”
He lay her back against their pillows and covered her small body with his big one, the fingers of their hands intertwined as had become their custom. Their eyes met as he entered her, and she sighed deeply. He stopped all motion for a brief time, enjoying her as she absorbed his size with such pleasure it almost brought him to tears. Then he began to move upon her again, and finally her eyes closed and she sighed once more as he brought them to passionate perfection.
“Oh, Patrick, I love you so very much! Perhaps too much,” she admitted when she once again came to herself, her head upon his chest.
“I wonder,” he replied, “if we can ever love enough, let alone too much.” His big hand stroked her auburn tresses. “Your hair is so soft.”
“Annie thinks me mad, for I insist it be washed weekly.
She says it is a wonder I have not caught my death of cold, putting my head in water so much,” Rosamund said.
“Is she very angry at being banished?” Patrick asked.
“I think she actually likes the company of the other servingwomen,” Rosamund replied.
“Do you think she would like to travel, my love?” he queried casually.
“I don’t know,” Rosamund responded. “Why?”
“I am of a mind to spend the winter in a warmer climate. I want you to go with me, Rosamund,” the Earl of Glenkirk said quietly.
“Which means crossing the sea in the worst weather,” she noted. Then she said, “Do not treat me as you would some foolish lass, Patrick.”
He understood at once and told her, “It is for the king, lovey. I can say no more now, which I know you will comprehend. Even saying that much, I put my fate in your two little hands, Rosamund.”
“Why would you say that?” she wondered.
“Because you were once King Henry’s mistress,” he answered bluntly.
“How on earth did you learn that? Only Tom and Annie know. It had to be a servant. Not mine I hope! Nay. It is not Annie, or you would not have asked me if she liked to travel, since you expect her to come with me. And having learned this fact, your king fears that I will betray you. Please tell me that Meg does not know.”
“Nay. Nor Queen Katherine, either,” he reassured her.
“I did not seek to attract Hal,” Rosamund began. “But he would have me, willing or nay. For my family’s sake I acquiesced as graciously as I could, Patrick. There was no real love between us, and while I am loyal to England, I do not believe whatever you do in your king’s service will harm my country. King James appears to be a man of great intellect and peace. I know Henry Tudor well enough to know he is ambitious and vain. He has a bad habit of always making it appear that God is on his side alone. It would be amusing if it were not so dangerous. I would not under any circumstances betray you, my lord,” she concluded.
“I know that,” he told her, and then he kissed her mouth again. “You will come with me, my Rosamund?”
“I will come with you, Patrick Leslie, for where you are, my heart is, I fear,” she responded.
“And what of Logan Hepburn?” he queried her.
“Logan needs a son and an heir. He should have married long ago but that he has this fancy for a child he saw at a cattle fair when he was sixteen. I was the child he saw, but I am no longer a child. Nor do I wish to be married because I am considered good breeding stock,” Rosamund told the earl.
“A man expects—is entitled to—children on his wife’s body,” the earl said quietly.
“I will not disagree,” she answered him, “but that and his silly story seem to be his whole rationale for wanting to marry me. He says he loves me, but does he really? I don’t know, but I will not take the chance of marrying him to discover that it is only my fecundity that attracts him. I have never known love, Patrick, until you. I will not give that up for what is considered a respectable marriage. I won’t!”
“We might marry, you and I,” he said softly.
“Only when you are ready to give up your Glenkirk, and I, Friarsgate,” she replied with a small smile.
“How can you know me so well on such short acquaintance?” he chuckled.
“And you me,” she responded. “Ohh, Patrick! I do not care what anyone else may think. I love you! I do not need to be your wife; nor do you need to offer me the honor of your name for me to know that you love me. From the moment our eyes met, we knew it was so.”
“Aye,” he agreed. “It was, sweetheart.”
