“Go you on ahead,” Kit told him, coming to once more stand beside Anne. “We need a few moments to catch our breaths. For this night Mistress Patience can walk back with my man.”
“My thanks, Master Hollier,” the man replied with a salute, departing through the trees with a musical rattling of his strings.
“Have Mistress Patience and Bertie gone already?” Kit asked.
Fearing the truth would cause him to hurry their departure put a swift lie on Anne’s lips. “I think they but stroll.”
“Well, they’d better be quick about it. The caretaker will want to lock the gates in another few moments,” Kit replied, reaching out to take her hand. “Yesterday, you spoke of the La Volta, wanting to try a few steps. Shall we do so while we wait?”
Nay, Anne wanted to scream. Her interest in the La Volta had died with Lady Deyville and dancing was the last thing she wanted to do with Kit. However, I beg your pardon, Master Hollier, but I’d really rather lay with you, hardly seemed an appropriate reply.
“Aye, that would be fine,” Anne heard herself say. “Perhaps, if you but lifted me once and turned? Every time I watch our queen’s majesty do it, I think it must be like flying.”
Dear God, she prattled like some featherhead all because her need to feel his mouth on hers was now urgent. Aye, and growing all the more urgent with each passing moment. Who knew how long Patience would wait before she called to them?
“As you will,” her Kit said with a smile. “Put your hands on my shoulders. You must brace yourself, holding still as I turn.”
Nodding, Anne drew her hands along the strong line of his shoulders as if she were seeking the right spot. Her palms came to life with the feel of him. Warmth throbbed deep in her being. Her breath caught. Then again, perhaps dancing wasn’t wholly a waste of time, after all.
“Are you ready?” There was a new huskiness to Kit’s voice.
He set his hands at her waist. A thrill shot down Anne’s spine. His eyes alive with wanting, Kit’s mouth softened in desire. Desire for her. Anne caught another breath. If she touched her lips to his it wouldn’t be gentle sweetness she found in that melding, but something more substantial.
“Aye,” she whispered.
He lifted her. Beneath her hands Anne felt his muscles tighten as he held her aloft. It was a quick circle he turned. She gasped as her skirt flew. Already half undone, her braid fell open with the movement, her hair spilling free about her.
“It does feel like flying,” she laughed, yet held high in his arms.
His second, even swifter turn caught Anne by surprise. Her hands slipped, and she dropped against him with a cry, latching her arms around his neck as she fell. He caught her close.
All of her was pressed to him. The beat of his heart was hers. Heat tore through her, her need for him so deep she shuddered. Their mouths were close. It would take but the smallest movement of her head to touch her lips to his.
Even as she warned herself that in giving herself to him she could but win her Kit’s hatred, she turned her head and closed the distance between their lips.
“Kit,” she breathed against his mouth.
A low, deep sound rumbled from him. He caught her mouth with his. His lips slashed across hers, demanding her response. Anne’s arms tightened around his neck as she gave him what he wanted and triumphed in what he shared with her. Then his arms relaxed as if to release her. Anne loosed a quiet sound of despair. She tightened her hold on him to pull herself closer still then took his mouth as her own.
A great breath shuddered through him. Kit caught her face in his hands to kiss the corner of her mouth, her cheek, her brow then her ear. She moaned in soft delight, the sensations he made in her every bit as wondrous as she’d dreamed they’d be.
When he kissed a line down her throat she placed her hands against his shirt, smoothing her palms over the masculine swell and fall of his chest. Even with fine cotton between her hands and his skin the feel of him was enough to set her need for him aflame. He loosened her collar. She trembled. When he kissed the spot where her neck met her shoulder Anne gave over caring what he might think of her were he to discover her secret. All that mattered was that he should make himself one with her.
* * *
Never, Kit swore to himself as he loosened the ties on Nan’s collar then kissed her exposed shoulder, had he known pleasure like this. If the months of wanting her had heightened his senses, he was glad for it. Sensation surged in him as he stroked a hand down her side and curled his fingers around the fullness of her breast.
She arched into his caress, offering herself to him. Heat tumbled through him. He brushed his thumb against her breast’s peak. Even through her shirt’s fabric he felt her nipple tauten. Wanting to place his lips where his fingers touched drove him beyond any other consideration. He tugged her shirt open then drew a shaken breath. Her breasts were exposed, his to see, to feel, to taste.
Rather than cry in shock Nan arched again, her hips pressing to his in eloquent invitation. Kit lowered his head and brushed his tongue against her nipple. She moaned softly, her fingers threading in his hair, urging him to caress her so again. He did her bidding, closing his mouth upon the peak of one breast and cupping his hand about the other.
Her breath came in panting gasps. The sound of her passion sent Kit’s own need spiraling. When she traced the curl of his ear with her finger waves of pleasure flowed over him, teasing him into suckling like a babe. She cried out and moved her hips against his, then lowered a hand to the top of his breeches.
Even as Kit felt her fingers working at that garment’s ties, he knew what they did was wrong. He had to stop. They had to stop. To continue was to doom her to torment in her marriage.
Kit swore he meant to lift his head from her breast and tell her to cease. Instead, he kissed and suckled, savoring the taste of her as his breeches slid down his legs and she reached beneath his shirt to find his shaft. He gasped against her breast as she trailed her fingers down its hard length, then gasped again when she closed her hand around him to play this game in earnest.
With a growl of need gone too deep to care about right, wrong or potential witnesses, Kit came upright with a start. Kicking aside his breeches, he yanked at the ties to her bodice. He wanted all of her against him.
Nan released him and stepped back. Kit’s cry of disappointment blossomed into a breath of awe as in one lithe motion she shed bodice, skirt, and shirt. She stood clothed in naught but her stockings, gartered above her knees, and her unbound hair. Desire, nay love for him, softened her face and glowed in her dark eyes.
Dear God, but she was lovely. Evening’s silvered light gleamed against her pale skin and turned her brown hair into ebony. He marked the dark strands as they clung to the curve of her cheek, trailed down the slender line of her neck to spill across the swell of her breasts. His gaze descended, following those tresses to where they curled around the generous turn of her hips.
As his attention came to rest upon the dark hair that cloaked her most private place, a sliver of sanity cooled what boiled in him. He had no right to her.
Anger shot through him. If not him then who? He was the one she’d chosen that first day in the Presence Chamber. Still, his conscience nagged.
“Nan, we cannot do this,” he said, his voice hoarse as
he put the only barrier left to him between them. “Bertie and his bride might return at any instant.”
She gave the smallest shake of her head. “They won’t. They await us beyond the garden walls.” In the next instant she sighed as if her heart were breaking. Tears glistened in her eyes. “Do you love me, Kit?”
“Aye Nan, I do.” Her pain wrested these words from him, even as he yet strove to resist what they meant.
“Then, love me now,” she begged softly.
All resistance died with her plea. He tore off his shirt. By the time it had fallen from his fingers, she’d shed her shoes and stockings. She gave him time enough to remove his own leg wear th
en closed the distance between them.
Laying her hands against his chest, she stroked her palms downward. He groaned against her caress, no longer wanting touches from her. Kit caught her by the hips and pulled her against him. Her skin was like silk against his. When she breathed, he could feel the movement of her breasts against his chest.
Boldly she laid her arms over his shoulders and drew herself up onto her toes. Kit shivered as his shaft pressed against her womanhood. With a quiet moan of pleasure, she buried her head into the turn of his neck and moved against him in elegant parody of what they both craved.
Taking her chin in his hand, he raised her face to his. He touched his mouth to hers, his kiss a declaration of his need. Again, her hips moved against his, and the promise of pleasure turned his inner heat into an inferno. He drew her down onto the soft grass until she lay upon her back beneath him. Settling on his side next to her, he braced himself above her.
“You are beautiful,” he said as he drew his fingers down along the outline of her breast.
She smiled, her eyes closing against his play. Her hips shifted, as if to draw his taunting fingers in their direction. He couldn’t resist.
Placing kisses against her ear, his fingers found their way down below her waist until he touched the folds of her netherlips. She trembled and arched beneath him, then opened her legs to offer him what he most desired. His breath caught. Shifting atop her, he settled between her legs, his shaft poised at the entrance to her womb.
“Stop me,” he told her even as his need for her ate him alive.
Her eyes opened. She reached up to lace her fingers behind his neck. “I won’t,” she breathed, then sighed. “Only remember that you love me.” Her voice was soft and almost frightened.
Before he could react to her strange plea, she thrust up against him, taking all of him within her in one bold stroke. Kit gasped, the pleasure she gave him with her movement too great to allow for surprise. Instead he simply thrust again.
Anne cried out in tangled need and joy. Heightened by months of longing for his touch, Kit’s entry into her only sent waves of sensation glorious washing over her. She threaded her fingers into his hair and forced his mouth to hers. Now that he was within her, she wanted more of this.
With a quiet groan, Kit lowered himself to lie full atop her. His mouth slashed across her, his kiss burning with his passion for her. Again, she lifted her hips and arched beneath him. They didn’t have long and she wanted ecstasy of him.
He tore his mouth from hers, panting. “Cease, love,” he growled, “else I’ll spill my seed this instant. Let me please you as I will.”
Anne gloried in his words. He now knew her secret, yet he called her his love. She relaxed beneath him to give him his way with her.
Touching his lips to hers in small and taunting kisses, Kit teased her with slow and steady thrusts until Anne’s need for him had her quaking beneath him. His breathing grew ragged and shallow. His movements quickened. Knowing full well where he went, Anne caught her arms around him to follow him, meeting his thrusts with her own.
Pleasure grew in Anne, until in one final instant it shattered, showering her with sensations so intense she couldn’t breathe. And, still he moved. Beyond thought or care, Anne lost herself upon a wondrous sea of joy.
Although she knew it was only an instant, it seemed like a glorious forever before she found herself once more. They lay together, his arms about her, her head caught into the bend of his throat. Panting, Kit relaxed atop her. Rather than feel crushed by his weight atop her, Anne’s pleasure ebbed into something deeper.
Until this moment it seemed she’d been but half a person. Now, as she held Kit close she felt whole for the first time in her life. Pain tore at her happiness. And, in another half hour she would lose him for ever after.
Kit shivered then his trembling evolved into a steady shaking of his shoulders.
“Kit?” she asked, “what is it?”
He lifted himself above her on his elbows. “For shame my love. You were no maid.”
His words cut through Anne. Of course. Now that his passion for her was sated he was angry that she’d duped him, making him think her a maid when she wasn’t.
Only he was grinning at her. Startled, Anne stared at him. His smile was wide and carefree. His shoulder shook as another muffled sound slipped from him. Only then did Anne recognize his laughter.
Of all the reactions she’d expected from him, this wasn’t one of them. His odd behavior teased from her words of explanation she hadn’t meant to offer.
“I was but ten and four, and Owls House is so isolated that, well, we, he and I--” She stopped, wrapped what little pride she had left about her and continued. “It just happened. My mother sent him away and I learned my lesson and sinned no more. And, that’s all I’ll say about it,” she finished in warning.
Still smiling, he rolled onto his side, taking her with him as he went until they lay face-to-face. Shaking his head, he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Love, I care nothing for your past sins.”
“You can love me despite what I have done?” she cried, unable to believe what she heard in his voice and saw in his face.
He winked. “Indeed, I think I prize you all the more because of it.”
Kit still loved her. So certain had Anne been of scorn and so great her relief when she didn’t find it that tears started to her eyes. She tried to stop them, but they wouldn’t be halted. Kit loved her still. She turned her head into his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him.
The irony of being doomed to failure long before he’d ever signed that damned contract was almost more than Kit could bear. What tickled him most was the thought of so many men and one woman all chasing after what no longer existed. It wasn’t until Kit felt the warmth of Nan’s tears against his skin that he realized what he found humorous must have terrified her.
Pulling her closer still, he stroked her hair. “Ah my poor love, how this must have weighed on you,” he murmured.
“You cannot know,” she cried against his throat. “When my grandfather came to fetch me, saying he had me a court position, I thought I’d die. I didn’t dare tell him.”
“I expect not.” The words left his mouth on a bitter breath. “Somehow I cannot envision old Amyas forgiving you this.”
Nay, more likely Amyas would have murdered her, for no other reason than the shame her sin had done his name. Kit marveled at how much Nan trusted him. It was her life she’d laid into his hands as she revealed her secret to him.
She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. “I was trapped no matter where I turned.”
Kit dared a tiny laugh. “So you were. God knows Elizabeth would never forgive you the deception were she to learn of it. And, then there is Deyville.”
As he spoke new fear for her tore through him. “Christ, but he will kill you for this! May God damn me I nearly helped him do it.”
“What do you mean,” she asked with a final hiccough. “You haven’t helped him.”
“Have I not?” Kit laughed, the sound harsh with anger at himself. “These past two months all that stood between you and what we’ve done this night was the knowledge that you were intended for Deyville. Rather than find some way to rescue you from that godforsaken union I stood idly by, telling myself that if I left you untouched you’d be protected against his abuse.”
Silence followed his words. A moment later she lifted herself on an elbow. Her mouth bent slowly into a crooked smile. “Oh, so that explains it.”
“Explains what?” he asked.
“You. You cannot know how hard I’ve worked.” Her smile filled with wicked amusement as her brows lifted. “Think you a woman’s shirt opens of its own accord?”
Her words brought with them the memory of their first dance in the barn. Kit’s eyes widened. “Why, you little imp. You were trying to seduce me.”
“Aye, so I was, much to my despair,” she c
hided, sounding much aggrieved over her failure. “Do you have any idea how my esteem has suffered these last months?”
By God, but he did, indeed. With a laugh Kit caught her close and again claimed her mouth with his. He let his kiss fill with all the heat she inspired, then rolled onto his back, dragging her atop him.
Anne gasped against his lips then shifted to lie just where they both wanted her to be. When the kiss was done, she crossed her arms on his chest to brace her chin upon them and gaze into his face. “How I love you,” she told him with a sigh.
“Why me?” It was a lover’s demand. Kit ached to know why she found him special above all others.
She didn’t deny him. “If I must list the reasons, then I’ll start from the first. You are kind. That I knew the moment I laid eyes on you. Where every other man at my presentation looked at me and saw only the heiress with her fields and houses, you saw a friendless stranger. You offered me pity against their greed, wishing to make me feel at least a little welcomed.”
He smiled. And, her interest in him had awakened the very lust that even now simmered in his gut. Raising a hand, he drew his fingers down the curve of her cheek. “It wasn’t all welcome.”
With a smile, she shifted her hips, drawing a quiet gasp from him. “Nay, it wasn’t, and I’ll not beg your pardon for desiring you,” she retorted with a smile.
“Did I ask for it?” He raised his hands in protest. “Nay not me. So it was my kindness that set you to seducing me, eh?”
“Nay.” The amusement faded from her face. “To know from whence that sprang I’d best tell you the whole truth. My grandsire wants a titled man for my husband, a man of great pomp and prominence. I, however, need me a man who will accept my mother as she is. Your brother is crippled. Once I heard from your own lips that you loved him despite his infirmity I knew you were the one.”
She paused, a touch of shame showing in the twist of her mouth. “Then I learned you were sworn not to wed. What choice had I save to set myself to seducing you, hoping to make you break that vow?”
Lady in Waiting Page 22