“Iwillhave my rights as a husband.” He held her eyes with a look that was meant to sear through her. “I want children, and I will have them only with my wife.”
After a moment, she said in a soft voice, “I would like more children as well.”
Her words set off such an intense surge of longing that he had to struggle to keep from pulling her hard against him. She must have sensed his weakening resolve. When she tried to step back, he tightened his grip on her shoulders.
“I want you in my bed,” he said. “And I will not wait long.”
He kissed her lightly, holding back the passion that threatened to overtake his will. She held herself very still, as if she knew that if she responded in the slightest, she would find him pressed against her, every inch touching, and there would be no turning back.
But she gave no quarter. He broke the kiss, his heart pounding in his chest. Without another word, he led her to her bedchamber door. She closed it swiftly behind her.
He told himself he had waited years for her; he could wait one more night. But sleep would not come easy. Not with Catherine so near and his body aching for her.
Chapter Four
Catherine paused at the entrance to survey the room. The hall was empty, save for a few of FitzAlan’s men, who sat near the hearth cleaning their weapons. FitzAlan, praise God, was not among them.
The rest of the household must have broken their fast hours ago. How did she sleep so late? It was a wonder she was able to sleep at all with FitzAlan so near. She awoke feeling almost in full health again. However, after days of eating almost nothing, she was famished.
Nodding to the men, she hurried to the table to take her breakfast. She was so hungry she could think of nothing but the food in front of her for some time.
After putting away an unseemly amount of food, she looked up and caught the men exchanging amused winks and nods. Apparently, they had set aside their work to watch her eat.
Did these Northerners have no manners? She gave them a severe look. She was gratified to see them go back to cleaning their weapons, albeit with a snort or two of stifled laughter.
Alys bustled into the hall, calling, “Good morning, m’lady!”
Heavens, why was everyone full of cheer this morning? First those men acting like boys, and now Alys smiling as if she’d found a bag of gold coins.
“Where’s Jamie this morning?” Catherine asked her.
“Jamie? Why, he’s gone with Lord FitzAlan.”
Catherine jumped to her feet. “What? He has taken Jamie?” Her throat was closing in panic. “Where, Alys? Where has he taken him?”
“Pray, do not fret, m’lady. He only took the boy to the stables to look at that huge animal of his. Jamie begged him.” Touching Catherine’s arm, she added, “I would have come for you if there was anything amiss.”
Catherine closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Jamie was all right. He had to be.
At the sound of a loud commotion coming from the entrance, she opened her eyes just as FitzAlan strode into the hall. Jamie was on his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. The relief that flooded through her made her knees feel weak. She took a half-step back and put a steadying hand on the table behind her.
Jamie waved wildly at her, shouting, “Mother! Mother!”
He gave a high-pitched giggle as FitzAlan swung him down. As soon as her son’s feet touched the floor, he ran to her, excitement radiating from his face. She dropped to one knee to catch him and clutched him fiercely to her chest. Praise God, he was all right. Forcing herself to release him, she leaned back and gave him what she hoped was a cheerful smile.
“He says I may ride on his horse with him,” Jamie told her, his eyes dancing. “Can I,pleeaaase?”
“Of course.” Looking up at FitzAlan, she added, “I hope I may come along when you do.”
She was not about to let FitzAlan take her son outside the castle without her. Anything could happen.
“You could show me the lands near the castle, if you feel well enough to ride.” FitzAlan examined her so closely she felt her face flush. With a slight lift of his eyebrow, he said, “You do look in fine health today. Very fine.”
Her blush deepened; she could not mistake his meaning.
“The rest of my men just arrived, and I need to arrange an escort to travel to London with Bishop Whitefield,” he said. “Can you be ready in an hour?”
Glancing at her son, Catherine was amazed by how at ease the boy was. He rested one small hand on FitzAlan’s arm while pointing at one thing after another.
