Rosamund sighed and relaxed against him. He was right. This was much better than a quick coupling. The teasing anticipation was arousing her to new heights. “Oh, Patrick,” she said softly, “that is so very, very nice, my darling.”
“We have only just begun, my love,” he told her. Then he turned her about to face him and kissed her deeply, his mouth hot and eager.
Their tongues met, caressed, dueled for superiority. They tasted each other, and then he lifted her up and carried her to their bed, laying her gently down and joining her. His big hands brushed over her torso, and she sighed. He turned her over onto her stomach and began massaging her back and her shoulders. His fingers dug into her prettily rounded bottom and then her thighs. He massaged her feet, rubbing any soreness that might have been there from them. “It is better, of course, with lotion or oil,” he explained. “In San Lorenzo they make the most delicious treats for the body, Rosamund, and I intend to introduce you to them all. They are lush and sensuous, and you will love what they do to your body, my love.”
Then he murmured a soft command to her, and when she positioned herself with raised buttocks he entered her womanly passage slowly and then began to pump her vigorously until Rosamund was whimpering with her pleasure. “That’s it, my pet,” he whispered hotly in her ear. “Enjoy the delights I can offer you. It has been a very long time since I wanted a woman as much as I want you. And even having you, it is not enough!” He thrust harder and deeper until she was screaming softly with her lustful satisfaction.
“Oh, God, Patrick! Please don’t stop! I could not bear it if you stopped!” she half-sobbed.
“There is more, my love,” he promised her, and then he continued on until he could no longer hold back his own desires. His love juices flooded her, and she wept.
“I cannot bear to think of the time when we must part,” she told him, her face wet with her tears.
“Do not consider it, my love,” he counseled her. “We have much time ahead of us, I promise you.” And he was kissing her face, her lips, and she was sighing with her happiness in their love while outside the single window in the room the storm raged on, but they neither knew nor cared.
The following afternoon the snow had finally abated, and the late day was clear, as was the night that followed. They would leave on the morrow. To Rosamund’s surprise, the laird of Claven’s Carn and his bride were to travel with them.
“Then he shall know that I have not gone home to Friarsgate!” Rosamund said, distressed.
“I have already spoken to the king, but he says there is no help for it. The queen made the arrangements, for she thought it would be safer for you to travel with the laird’s party. The king can say nothing lest he reveal his plans. He dare not, or England will learn of Scotland’s plans,” Glenkirk said. “I can but appeal to Logan Hepburn’s patriotism when we leave them for the Leith road. He can certainly keep his wife quiet.”
“And I shall keep her friendly and amused for the journey,” Tom added. “She will be feeling a bit strange going to her new home for the first time, and I will help to ease her fears. I shall keep Logan Hepburn’s friendship for Friarsgate despite your bad behavior, cousin,” Tom teased, and he grinned at her with a wicked wink.
Glenkirk laughed. “You are a valuable ally, Tom, and I thank you for it.”
“Do not think to wheedle me, my dear lord,” Tom said. “I am still quite put out that I must go back to Friarsgate in the snow while you whisk my fair cousin and best friend off to the balmy shores of San Lorenzo. I shall expect a great favor in return one of these days.”
“And you shall receive whatever it is your good heart desires,” Glenkirk replied. “Within reason, of course.”
“One man’s reason is another’s unreason,” Tom said with a chortle. “You must bring me sweet Mediterranean wines and some of your own whiskey if I am to be recompensed.”
“And I shall bring you jars of olives, stored with lemon and oil in stone crocks for a year. San Lorenzan olives are considered a rare delicacy,” the Earl of Glenkirk told Lord Cambridge. “I wish you could taste their grapes. They are the sweetest I have ever known.”
“Say not another word, dear man, for I am already regretting my decision to remain at Friarsgate!”
“Oh, Tom, you must! My lasses will not be safe without you there,” Rosamund cried.
“Dear cousin, I have given you my word, and I will indeed go to Friarsgate to watch over those three little angels you spawned. But I will nonetheless regret that I am not with you,” Tom said.
“You can teach them court manners,” Rosamund teased him.
“They can certainly use my tutelage,” he sniffed. “Especially Philippa, who should know better than to squat and pee when she is outdoors with the other children and nature calls to her. A proper young lady uses her chamber pot.”
“You will tell her that, of course, dear Tom,” Rosamund said, laughing.
“You are quite enjoying my distress,” he grumbled. “Well, I am not the one whose bottom will be red each day from all the riding you have ahead of you. While you gallop through the worst of the winter weather I shall be snug at Friarsgate with your good Maybel watching over me and cosseting me with her kind heart and good cooking. And what am I to tell her, cousin?”
“I have written a letter to her, Tom. She will ask you all manner of questions despite it, but you may answer her honestly,” Rosamund told him quietly. “She will blame poor Meg for my behavior, of course,” Rosamund concluded with a smile.
“Aye, she will not believe this reckless behavior of you, my dear girl,” he agreed.
“I must go and bid the queen farewell now,” Rosamund said, and she left the two men together by the fire in the Great Hall where they had all been seated.
The queen was feeling quite well when Rosamund arrived to see her.
“I have never felt better in these circumstances,” she declared.
“The king’s prediction will be a true one, then,” Rosamund responded.
“His predictions are always true,” Margaret Tudor replied. “It is sometimes quite eerie. So, you are leaving me, my old friend.”
“My visit has been wonderful!” Rosamund declared. “And I promise I shall come back to see you when I can.”
“You will not let the war separate us?” the queen asked.
“What war?” Rosamund was puzzled.
“The one that my brother, Henry, will certainly force upon my husband and Scotland,” the queen said. “This marriage between us was to settle the matter for good and all, but it has not. And it is all Hal’s fault! He presses Jamie at every turn. My husband, however, is far wiser than my brother; but eventually Hal will make war on Scotland, and you and I will be separated again, Rosamund.”
“If there is indeed a war, I shall not allow it to harm the friendship that we formed back at your father’s court when we were children, Meg. Whatever the men of this world may do, we women shall remain friends. I shall try and be here for your son’s christening,” she promised, “if not sooner.”
“What of Lord Leslie?” the queen asked, unable to help herself.
“He is coming with me,” Rosamund said. “He says he is not needed at Glenkirk now as his son is capable of managing their lands. And besides, it is easier for him to come with me to Friarsgate than to get back into his Highland eyrie with this weather.”
“Then you shall not be separated,” the queen said. “Oh, Rosamund, I am glad! For all I have teased you, I can see that you love him and he you. It is so strange, but there it is. God bless you both!”