No, here his hand came back to her breast, clever thing. The first brush had been a foray, to see what her reaction would be. But now he was there with confidence, tracing over the thin fabric of her gown, raising her nipple into a little fortress tower.
And his mouth nibbled and bit and licked its way around her throat, till he was standing behind her, panting into the nape of her neck, one hand still on her breast, one tickling over her belly, lower and lower, exploring her like an adventurer in an unknown land.
When she could stand it no longer, she turned in his grip and kissed him fiercely, beginning an exploration of her own around the base of his throat, to his chest where his shirt opened. When their lips met again it was with a furious, passionate tangle as something other than her brain took control, and Anne was pushing and pulling her body against his with all of her strength.
They came apart, both gasping like animals, and for an instant Anne felt ashamed and frightened. But then Roderick’s hand came to her cheek, very gently, and his dark eyes held her, promising nothing but happiness and devotion.
Around them, the tomb was utterly silent, little revealed by the single taper burning in a wall sconce. They were in the center room, where bodies lay in state and the family gathered for the rites of the dead. No one had died recently; her ancestors were elsewhere, in their own rooms, in the vaults that made up the rooms of the great house. Before Roderick arrived she had said a prayer to keep them quiet.
“You are more beautiful than anyone I have ever laid eyes on,” Roderick whispered. “When I first met you, it was not so. You were beautiful, yes, but now—” He struggled for words. “It’s as if each time I see you, you glow with a greater light.”
She couldn’t think of anything to say, and she could hardly stand the intensity of his eyes, so she leaned in and tucked her head under his chin and laid her cheek against his chest.
“It must be that love brings greater beauty,” he said, into her hair.
“What?” She drew back, to see if he was joking.
“I know, it’s doomed, but there it is. I love you, Anne.”
This time she didn’t turn from his gaze but watched as his face dropped nearer, his lips parted, and he gave her a long, sweet kiss.
But then she pushed away from him.
“I have to leave tomorrow,” she said roughly. She felt sudden tears clotting her head, trying to get out.
“What do you mean?”
“Father is sending us away, to Cal Azroth. My mother, my sisters, my brother—me. He thinks we’re in danger. It’s stupid. How could we be safer there?”
“Tomorrow?” Roderick sounded as if he was in pain. “For how long?”
“I don’t know. Months, probably, until this stupid thing with Saltmark is over.”
“That’s terrible,” he whispered.
“I don’t want to go.” Now it was her turn to stroke his cheek. “We still have time,” she said. “Kiss me again, Roderick. Let’s worry about tomorrow when it arrives.”
He did kiss her slowly at first, but within moments he had reclaimed all of the ground he had conquered earlier, and pushed forward. When he took her nipple between thumb and forefinger, she laughed in delight: who would think of something like that? It was all so surprising!
He unlaced her bodice and kissed the long border of fabric and flesh, so each touch of his lips was wet and vivid, yet somehow far away, and all the more exciting for it.
The bodice slipped farther.
When his hand worked past her stockings, to the bare flesh of her upper thigh, her whole body went stiff. She moaned, and for the first time felt real fear. It was a strange fear, however, a mixed one. And Roderick seemed so certain of what he was doing, so confident.
And he loved her, didn’t he?
He stopped, and caught her with those great eyes again. “Shall I stop? If you have any doubt, Anne, say it.”
“Would you stop if I asked?” she panted.
“Yes.”
“Because I’m not sure—but I don’t want you to stop yet.”
He grinned. “I love you, Anne Dare.”
“I love you, too,” she said, and just as she was realizing what she had said, he came back to her. And a sort of helplessness swallowed her, as if nothing could happen anyone would blame her for. Nothing.
And she was fifteen! Who remained virgin at that age?
Just then Roderick stiffened and leapt up, whirling, reaching for his sword.
“Young man,” a familiar voice said, “do not be more foolish than you already have been.”
Anne sat up, gathering her gown against her bosom. “Who is that? Erren?”
Erren stepped through the doorway, and behind, saints help her, came Fastia.
“We were—” Roderick began.
“About to hump like wild goats? Yes, I saw that,” Erren said dryly.
“Anne, fasten your clothes,” Fastia snapped. “Now. By all the saints, in the house of our ancestors?” Something strange quivered in her voice, something more than outrage, but Anne could not identify it.
“Anne is blameless,” Roderick began.
But Anne had found her own voice. “How dare you!” she snapped. “How dare you follow me down here? This is my affair, and mine alone! It’s no one’s business who I love!”
“Perhaps not,” Erren replied. “But it is very much the business of the kingdom with whom you rut, I’m afraid.”
“Indeed? Really? What of my father, who lies with every slut who—”
“Hush, Anne!” Fastia shouted.
“—walks into the palace, no, I will not hush, Fastia. I cannot help that my blood does not run like ice, as it does in both of you.”
“You will be silent,” Fastia said. “And you, Roderick of Dunmrogh, you’d best begone. Now, before this turns into an incident that must come before the court.”
Roderick lifted his chin. “I do not care about that. We have done nothing shameful, Anne and I, and we have only followed our hearts.”
“When hearts swing between thighs, that will undoubtedly be true,” Erren said.
“Don’t go, Roderick,” Anne said. It was more a command than a plea.
He took her hand. “I will go. But this is not done. You will hear from me.”
He gave Erren and Fastia one arch glance, then left without looking back.
Anne glared at the other women, as well, marshaling her arguments even as the sound of Roderick’s horse’s hooves on lead cobbles faded. Fastia’s face, meanwhile, was working through some frightful contortions.
And suddenly, Anne’s older sister burst out laughing. Erren joined in by grinning and shaking her head.
“Heavenly saints!” Fastia managed. “Where did you find that one?”
“It’s not funny! Why are you laughing?”
“Because it’s so laughable! Do you think you’re the first to come to the tombs for this sort of thing? Did you think you were being clever? And Roderick. ‘Shall I stop?’ Oh, dear. And you, thinking he would, that you would even want him to!”
“You were watching the whole time?”
Fastia calmed, but she was still chuckling. “No, not the whole time. Only as it was starting to get interesting.”
“You had no right, you cold-blooded bitch!”
That stopped Fastia’s laughter, and Anne was suddenly sorry. How long had it been since her sister had laughed? Even if it had to be at Anne’s expense. Her self-righteousness faltered.
Fastia nodded, as if to herself. “Walk with me a moment, Anne. Erren, if you could stay here?”
“Certainly.”
Outside, there was a faint chill in the air. The necropolis lay under silver light. Fastia took a few steps into the courtyard, then looked up at the half-empty moon. Her eyes were wide and glistening. Anne wasn’t certain if there were tears there or not.
“You think I begrudge you this, Anne?” she asked softly. “You think I don’t understand exactly how you feel?”