Conor

by Ruth Ryan Langan

  planned it."

  He gave her a long measuring look. Then a smile touched the corners

  of his lips. "Aye. You did, didn't you? Why, if I didn't know better, I'd

  say you seduced me, Emma Vaughn."

  "I?" She sat up, unmindful of her nakedness. Her hair spilled forward

  around her face. "Are you saying a sweet innocent maiden from

  Dublin seduced the very handsome, very charming, very worldly

  Conor O'Neil?"

  He couldn't help looking just a bit smug. "Is that what you think of

  me? Handsome, charming and worldly?"

  "Did I say that? That wasn't what I meant. That's how you appear to

  others. As for me, I find you merely a...rather plain, rather simple

  bumpkin."

  He was grinning now, his heart so filled with love he felt as if he

  couldn't contain it all. "A bumpkin, am I? Well this bumpkin was the

  innocent party in all this. Why, you had me so dazzled with your

  charm and beauty, I couldn't even think."

  She actually glowed at the unexpected compliment. He thought her

  charming and beautiful.

  "According to the ladies at court, men don't think with their brains

  anyway. It seems another part of their anatomy rules their head."

  "Is that so?" He burst into gales of laughter. "What else have those

  ladies at court been telling you?"

  "Well." She looked away, while her fingers continued to play through

  the mat of hair on his chest. "I did hear that some men...some

  extraordinary men," she added with a dimpled smile, "are capable of

  loving many times through the night."

  He wondered if she had any idea what she was doing to him. He

  caught hold of her hand to stop its erotic movements.

  When she looked up, she caught sight of the smoldering look in his

  eyes.

  "And you want to know if I'm one of those...extraordinary men?"

  She looked at him from beneath her lashes. "Are you?"

  He pulled her down on top of him and gave her a lingering,

  heart-stopping kiss. She realized at once that he was fully aroused.

  That only caused her to move over him in a most provocative manner

  until he moaned softly.

  When at last the kiss ended he muttered against her mouth, "I suppose

  you have your answer now, don't you, imp?"

  "Aye." She swallowed.

  Then, feeling even more playful, she continued wriggling over him

  while her hair swirled around, tickling his face, veiling her eyes in a

  most seductive way.

  "I believe you're trying to seduce me again, Emma."

  "And if I am?"

  With a groan of pleasure he muttered against her lips, "Woman, I can

  see there's only one cure for this." He rolled her. over and kissed her

  until they were both breathless.

  And then, with long sighs and whispered love-words, they tumbled

  once more into that wonder-filled world reserved fo¥ lovers.

  The first pale ribbons of dawn streaked the sky. A chorus of birds

  entertained in the nearby trees.

  Conor studied the woman who slept in his arms, tucking the edge of

  his cloak around her for warmth. All night they had loved, then

  snatched a few hours of sleep before loving again. It had been the

  sweetest hours of his life, learning all the secret delights of this

  extraordinary woman. He had thought himself a worldly man,

  knowledgeable about the ways of love. But, though Emma had been

  at first shy and sweet, she had soon discarded her inhibitions and had

  become a source of amazement. He could no longer recall who had

  led and who had followed.

  She was so loving. So generous. So honest.

  Honest. He felt a twinge of guilt. There was so much about himself

  that he couldn't share. But he owed it to this woman to at least bare a

  few of his secrets.

  "So serious, my lord." Emma studied him from beneath her lashes,

  then touched a finger to the little frown between his brows."

  "Is it because of me? Are you having regrets?"

  "Nay, Emma." He caught her hand, pressed it to his lips. "How could

  I regret what we've shared? These have been the sweetest hours of my

  life."

  "And mine, Conor." She stretched, yawned, then wrapped her arms

  around his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. "I have never known

  such a night."

  "Nor I." He paused, considered the implications of what he was about

  to reveal, then decided to plunge ahead. "But there is something I

  must tell you. Something I fear may change how you feel about me."

  She placed her hand over his mouth. "First, I have a confession of my

  own. It weighs heavily on my heart." It had been the last thought

  before she had slept and her first thought upon awakening.

  He nodded reluctantly. "All right. I'll be a gentleman and allow you to

  go first."

  She took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes. ' 'Not far frommy home in

  Dublin there is a small village called Glencree. Do you know it?"

  Unsure where this was leading he tensed. Nodded.

  ' 'A lass there was attacked by a band of English soldiers. Before they

  could harm her, a man wearing the garb of a friar burst upon them and

  slit all their throats, saving her virtue."

  "Heaven's Avenger." Conor carefully kept his tone devoid of

  inflection.

  "Aye." Twisting her hands nervously, Emma glanced at him, then

  away. "He was tall as a giant, his arms and shoulders corded with

  muscles. Eyes bluer than the heavens. And though most of his face

  was hidden by hood and cowl, he was the handsomest man ever seen

  in all Ireland."

  "And how do you happen to know all this?"

  "I...I was that lass."

  "You, Emma?"

  She nodded. "I didn't mean for it to happen, but right then and there I

  lost my heart to Heaven's Avenger. And I vowed that no other man

  would ever share my dreams. He was the reason I began to carry a

  knife, and the reason why I mastered the art of tossing it." She turned

  to him then, with a look so troubled, he couldn't help but be moved by

  it. "Forgive me, Conor. I am tempted to argue that I was younger then

  and easily swayed by romantic notions. But the truth is, though I truly

  love you, a part of my heart is still owned by Heaven's Avenger. His

  cause is so noble, his deeds so pure, and his courage so selfless, it

  fairly takes my breath away. It doesn't mean," she was quick to add.

  "that I will love you less. Only that I will think of him sometimes in

  my dreams. And wish him godspeed on his mission of mercy."

  When he remained silent she turned away, relieved and yet shamed

  by her admission. In a very small voice she whispered, "I can see that

  my story troubles you. I'm sorry if I've caused you pain."

  He sat up and pulled her against him, pressing his mouth to the back

  of her neck. Though she couldn't see his face, his words were warm

  with unspoken laughter. "Oh, Emma. This is the terrible secret you

  had to share?"

  "Aye."

  "Then I must share one of my own." He closed his arms around her,

  his hands resting just below the fullness of her breasts. Against her

  ear he muttered, ' 'If I must compete with another, at least I'm gratefulr />
  it isn't with a mere mortal. As long as you give your heart and soul

  and body to me, I cannot be jealous if this legendary warrior owns

  your dreams."

  "Truly?"

  "Aye."

  With a £igh of relief she leaned against him, feeling the familiar

  rising passion as his lips nuzzled her neck, and his hands began their

  lazy exploration of her body.

  ' 'Oh, Conor. See why I love you so? No other man could ever be so

  understanding." She turned, offering her lips.

  As he drew her down to the cloak and kissed her, she managed to ask,

  "Now. What did you want to tell me?"

  His own confession was quickly discarded. It would now ring hollow

  and empty. He pressed soft moist kisses to her forehead, her cheeks,

  the corner of her lips. "Only this, my love." He nuzzled her lips until

  they opened for him. Inside her mouth he breathed, "You are the most

  amazing woman I've ever known. I will never have enough of your

  love." He felt his blood heat and allowed himself to be swept along on

  the tide of passion. "If I live to be a hundred, I'll not have enough of

  your love."

  "Come, love." Conor nibbled the corner of Emma's lips. "The sun will

  soon be up and our empty beds at the palace will be discovered by

  servants unless we make haste."

  "Wait." She pulled him back to her and whispered, "Say that again."

  "The sun..."

  "Nay. What you called me."

  He smiled. Against her lips he whispered, "Love. You are my love,

  Emma. My own true love."

  "Oh, Conor." She kissed him, long and slow and deep, on a sigh of

  pure pleasure. ' 'Just hearing that word on your lips will make the day

  so much sweeter."

  He returned her kiss with a passion that left them both gasping. Then,

  gathering his wits, he forced himself to his feet and helped her to

  stand. "Unless we leave now, our secret will become the latest rumor

  to sweep through the palace."

  "Aye." She hurried to the stream to wash before pulling on her

  breeches and tunic. When she turned, Conor was already leading the

  horse. He lifted her into the saddle, then pulled himself up behind her.

  With a last look at the flower- strewn meadow where they had spent

  such pleasant hours, they turned their mount toward Greenwich

  Palace. And whatever dangers lay before them.

  "Stay here," Conor warned as they neared the stables. "It wouldn't do

  for the lads to catch sight of you dressed like this."

  He slipped to the ground and helped Emma dismount. While she

  remained crouched in the tall grass, he pulled himself into the saddle

  and turned his horse toward the waiting stall.

  "Goad morrow, my lord." With a smile Meade reached for the reins.

  "You must have been up before dawn."

  "Aye. I saw no need to disturb your rest." Conor glanced over,

  catching sight of Nola's skirts just inside one of the stalls. ' 'Especially

  since your time was being put to better use."

  The lad blushed and turned away. Conor blessed his good fortune.

  Not only had the little maid offered him an excuse, but she would be

  far too busy pulling herself together to catch Emma sneaking into her

  own chambers.

  As soon as he was out of sight he caught Emma's hand, leading her

  toward the empty courtyard. "Come, love. We must hurry."

  "How will we get to our rooms without being seen?"

  "The same way we left them last night."

  "But that was under cover of darkness." She paused as he caught the

  rope, tested its strength. As he gathered her close she whispered,

  "Conor, if anyone should glance out their balcony windows, they'll

  see us."

  "It's our only hope. The hallways of the palace will be filled with

  Servants. They might not take notice of me, but seeing one of the

  queen's own ladies-in-waiting wearing a man's breeches and tunic

  would certainly start tongues wagging."

  She knew he was right. Still, as she wrapped her arms around his

  neck, and he began climbing the rope to her balcony, she felt as if the

  whole of England was watching.

  When at last they reached her balcony, he lifted her over the rail and

  carried her easily inside. Once more she was reminded of his

  incredible strength, and she had a quick mental image of the way he

  had looked, running across the awns of Clermont House, as if he were

  out on a simple aunt. Perhaps it was one more reason why she loved

  him. In her youthful romantic fantasies, this was exactly the way

  heaven's Avenger would have behaved. Then she admonished herself

  for giving in to such a fantasy. She fervently hoped it didn't demean

  her love for this flesh and blood man."Here we are, love. Safe and

  sound after our adventure. And no one is the wiser."

  No sooner were the words spoken than they heard a knock on the

  door and Nola's voice, soft and muted calling, "My lady. I would

  enter your chamber and help you with your morning toilette."

  "Aye, Nola." She watched as Conor headed toward the balcony.

  "Give me a moment."

  When she reached his side he pulled her to him with a wicked grin.

  "Not a moment too soon. I'll bid you goodbye for now, love." He

  covered her mouth with his, lingering over her lips.

  "Hurry, Conor. Before someone comes and notices the rope dangling

  in the courtyard."

  "Aye, my love." But instead of leaving, he kissed her again. "I'll pray

  the day goes swiftly, so that I can lie with you again this night, and

  show you once more how much I love you."

  And then he was gone. Over the railing. Down the rope. As soon as he

  jumped clear, Emma untied the knot and tossed the rope down to his

  waiting arms.

  He blew her a kiss and was gone.

  "My lady," came Nola's insistent voice from the hall.

  Emma stripped off her tunic and breeches, and buried them in the

  back of her wardrobe. Then she slipped on her nightshift and glanced

  around, to see if there might be anything out of place. Satisfied that

  all was in order, she released. the latch on the door and pressed a hand

  to her mouth as though stifling a yawn.

  "Forgive me, Nola. I fear I was deep in a wonderful dream when you

  first called to me."

  "I «an see that, my lady."

  "You can see my dream?"

  "Aye." The little maid studied Emma until she flushed and turned

  away. Nola stepped inside and made her way across the room to pour

  water into a basin. "For your eyes have a warm gleam to them. Why,

  even your skin seems to glow this morrow, my lady."

  Touching a finger to her lips Emma walked to the balcony and

  studied the empty courtyard below. Though Conor O'Neil was

  nowhere in sight, she could still taste him. A taste that was dark and

  mysterious. And she could still see in her mind that wicked smile that

  had a way of tugging at her heart and making her whole world tilt at a

  precarious angle.

  "Perhaps, Nola," she said on a sigh, "if I'm lucky, I'll enjoy that same

  dream again this night."

  Chapter Nineteen

  "Well, my Irish rogue, once again you are late." Elizabeth looked up
/>   from the table to watch as Conor crossed the great hall and made his

  way to her side.

  Across the table, Emma watched as well. As always, Conor cut a

  splendid, dashing figure that never failed to make her heart beat a

  little faster. Just the sight of him had her spirits soaring. And thinking

  about the night of loving they had shared had her blushing furiously.

  "Good morrow, Majesty." He paused and pressed Elizabeth's

  outstretched hand to his lips, before greeting the others around the

  table.

  When he caught sight of Emma seated between Dunstan and the earl

  of Blystone, he forced himself not to stare, though he longed to linger

  a moment and just drink in her beauty! She had been the sweetest

  surprise. The night they had shared was still uppermost in his mind.

  And judging by the flush on her cheeks, she was sharing the same

  sweet thoughts.

  "How does your planned progress go, Majesty?"

  "Smoothly, Conor." Elizabeth touched a proprietary hand to his arm

  when he took the seat beside her. "I was just telling the others to be

  prepared to leave on the morrow."

  "So soon?"

  "Aye. Lord Dunstan wagered one thousand gold sovereigns that I

  could not possibly be ready to leave that soon. It was all the reason I

  needed to move ahead with all speed. You know how I detest losing."

  "As does Lord Dunstan." Conor tensed when he looked across the

  table at Dunstan, remembering what he'd overheard on Celestine's

  balcony. It was Dunstan's suggestion that Blystone invite the queen

  and her party to his estate. Now he was pressing to get her there with

  all speed. But why? What was Dunstan's plan?

  The words Conor had overheard last night began to play through his

  mind. At the time he'd been determined to learn what Dunstan had in

  store for him. When he'd learned that Dunstan intended to harm

  Emma, all else had vanished :rom his mind. But now he struggled to

  recall what else had been said. How could Dunstan benefit from the

  queen's visit to his rival's estate? It made no sense. If anything,

  Dunstan should have wanted to show off his own wealth and power