Wild Bells to the Wild Sky

by Laurie McBain

  Valentine Whitelaw raised her hand to his lips, and feeling her tremble when his lips touched her flesh, he said, "I would have them become one, Francisca."

  For a moment, Lily stared up at him uncomprehendingly, then her cheeks grew hot with a rosy tint as she understood only too well his meaning. His gaze was traveling slowly and intimately over her body now, leaving her in little doubt of what his wishes were concerning her.

  Lily pulled her hand free of his and picked up her basket, holding it between them. "I must go," she said, panicking, for this conversation was not progressing quite the way she had planned. He had caught her off guard. She needed time to think.

  "Afraid?"

  "No!" she responded, but she glanced around nervously, noting that they stood alone, unseen, in the shade of the trees. Where had everyone gone? she wondered. The midway was unusually empty for this time of day.

  "Has your heart already been given to another?"

  Lily opened her mouth to deny that, but when she stared into his turquoise eyes, she knew she couldn't. She would always love Valentine Whitelaw, despite how he unwittingly hurt her.

  "The man who kissed your cheek and fondled you. He is your lover?" Valentine accused, startling himself by the sudden jealousy that kiss had caused him. Never before had the mere sight of a comely maid caused him to act like some lovesick swain tripping over his own feet.

  "Rom? My lover? No! Of course not. Rom is my friend. He has always been there to help us," Lily said, outraged by such an accusation. "I have come to love him, but as I would a brother."

  Valentine Whitelaw smiled. "I see. I wonder then, who is this gentleman who is so fortunate to possess your love? I vow, he is the fool to allow you to wander beyond his grasp. If you were mine, Francisca, I would never let you leave my side."

  "If I were yours?" Lily said the words softly, disbelievingly.

  "Yes, mine, Francisca," Valentine spoke urgently, his hand lightly clasping her shoulder. She was so frail, he thought, feeling the bones beneath his hand. It could so easily be crushed by the wrong hand, but never his hand. He would never hurt her. Despite the company she kept, she seemed so untouched, so innocent, and yet he knew differently. No woman who was innocent of love could have gazed at him the way she had earlier. He had not mistaken the seductive invitation in her eyes. "Do you not believe me? Come aboard my ship. She rides at anchor in the river, just beyond this bank, where first I saw you."

  Lily's eyes widened in surprise. "You saw me?"

  "Since first gazing across the waters at you, I have been able to think of little else but you," he admitted, his hand sliding from her shoulder and into the tangle of dark red hair. His voice was low and persuasive as he said, "I had never seen such beauty as yours. You enchanted me, little sea maid. Astride a white horse, you raced along the bank, disappearing into the mists, then riding out into the sunlight, your hair catching the fire from the sun. You were so spirited. So free. Can you blame me for wanting to capture you for my own? You were what I had longed for while I was at sea," he said, and while he spoke his fingers moved along the delicate line of her jaw to trace the soft contour of her lips.

  "Please, don't," Lily said weakly, her heart fluttering wildly. If he only knew...

  But Valentine persisted, his words soft and seductive. He would have his way with this maid. He could sense her confusion, and he knew how to tempt her into his embrace. He felt certain her curiosity, like a cat's, would be her undoing. She would not be able to resist. "Have you never sailed the sea, Francisca? Come aboard my ship and we will ride the tide downriver, then sail into the sea. It seems to stretch away forever. Let me show you its magic, free you, for just a short while. You have longed for that, haven't you? I can see it in your eyes. It excites you, doesn't it?

  "You will feel as if you are flying above the waves. We will sail with the winds. Far more swiftly than you did on that white horse of yours. Come, Francisca. Come with me," he urged her. "The Madrigal's hold is still laden with treasure. She is sweet-scented with the richness of spices. It fills the senses. Come aboard the Madrigal and I will wrap you in silk so fine you will think it had been woven by fairy hands. I would honor your beauty, Francisca, with jewels so precious, so full of fire, that you would believe them to be alive. Let me prove to you how enchanted I am. Come, tonight. Come aboard my ship. Feel the movement of her beneath you, and you will never want to leave. And, if you so desire, then on the morrow we will sail."

  "No, pleas, don't say more. You mustn't. You do not understand," Lily pleaded, frightened by his words, by the ardent demand in his eyes. Would he be saying such things to her if he knew...?

  "You're shivering. But not from fear. You desire me as much as I do you. I can see it in your eyes," he said roughly, and taking the basket from her hands, he tossed it aside. "I saw the expression in your eyes when first we met. You did not bother to hide your passion then. You stared at me as if you recognized me. As if we had already been lovers. You cannot deny it, Francisca. I felt your gaze upon me even before I saw you standing there. I felt your eyes caressing me, wanting to know me. Do you think I would chase after every maid I chanced to see and admire? Something astonishing happened when I saw you. Call me planet-struck or perhaps spellbound, but I felt the same strange sense of recognition that I saw cross your face. I knew you. I felt as if I'd known you all of my life. There is something so tantalizingly familiar about you, about those green eyes of yours, and yet I know I have never gazed into eyes that burn through me like yours do. No, don't look away," he told her, his hand holding her face turned to his. "You seem so innocent, and yet you have seduced me as surely as if we had already lain together as lovers."

  "No!" Lily cried, trying to free her hands from his.

  "What game are you playing? You entice me, then deny me. Can you be that cruel and unfeeling? Or is it that you are afraid I will not pay you enough? Perhaps you fear I will be disappointed? Well, here, take it now," he said harshly, throwing his purse into the basket. "Now you owe me. One night, Francisca. Let us see if you are worth it."

  Before she could move, he had pulled her against his chest, his arm tightening around her waist and hip while he held her against him, molding her body to his. She had started to protest, but his mouth closed over hers, the hardening pressure parting her lips beneath the demand of his kiss.

  Lily stood unmoving in his embrace. Never before had a man kissed her mouth in passion. She drew a sharp breath in surprise when she felt his tongue touching hers, moving against its softness as if the taste was pleasing to him. His beard scratched her face when his mouth lifted from hers to leave a trail of fire across her cheek and throat before returning and stealing away her breath, for she was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. And every breath she took was filled with him, with the taste and smell of Valentine Whitelaw.

  A quivering sensation shot through her body when she felt his hand slide down to caress her buttocks and pull her against him. Even through her petticoats she could feel the hardness of him pressing against her. It frightened and excited her at the same time, confusing her with both guilt and pleasure that she should enjoy a man's intimate touching of her body. She was not so innocent that she did not understand what he was seeking. Never before had she completely perceived the reason why, but now, feeling an emptiness that left her aching for something more fulfilling, Lily Christian, tasting of passion for the first time, experienced a newfound awareness of her woman's body.

  Valentine lifted his mouth from hers and stared down into her flushed face. Her breath was coming quickly between her parted lips, her lashes fluttering slightly. He tightened his arms around her, holding her even closer against him until he could feel the fragrant heat of her body warming him. She was so beautiful, he thought, lowering his mouth to taste of hers again.

  Lily felt his mouth moving hungrily against hers, his teeth nibbling her lips, then his breath became hers. Never had she known such pleasure, and she wanted it to continue, she suddenly real
ized, her arms moving for the first time in response, to clasp his strong shoulders, to entwine behind his neck. Her fingers moved through the softness of his black hair, tightening in its thickness so he would not draw away from her again.

  Valentine felt a surge of excitement when he felt her shy response to his kisses become more passionate. Her tongue moved slowly against his, tasting of him now, and he kissed her all the deeper, wanting a more intimate coupling with her as his arms held her closer against him, his hands caressing the curve of her buttocks with slow, deliberate strokes. With one hand he kept her close while his other hand moved to fondle her breast. Through the soft silk of her bodice he could feel the tautness of her flesh, the delicate nipple hardening beneath his thumb as he rubbed it. He pressed her back against the tree trunk, his mouth bruising hers with his increasing passion. Kiss after breathless kiss followed, her mouth opening wider to his, to let him explore her more deeply, her lips clinging to his time and time again.

  His breath coming raggedly, Valentine lifted his mouth from hers and stared down into her green eyes glowing with passion. "Now? Come with me now. Come aboard the Madrigal. Francisca, don't deny me," he said, his hands caressing the delicate contours of her face. His fingers touched the slightly dampened curls that clung to her flushed cheek and brow. "Forgive me for my anger. But I was desperate to have you in my arms. To touch you."

  Her scent clung to him. The sweet smell from her woman's body, warm with the pungency of healthy perspiration and spicy perfume, had aroused him so that had they indeed been aboard his ship, nothing on this earth could have stopped him from taking her.

  "I-I must tell you. Please, this is wrong. I did not mean for this to happen. You don't know. I-"

  "No, it is not wrong. It can never be wrong when two people feel as we do. Francisca, listen to me," Valentine began quickly, unwilling to allow her to leave him, to deny both of them the pleasure he knew they could share as lovers.

  "Captain, there you are," someone spoke from beyond the trees. "You have to hurry. You have meeting with friend. Remember?" Mustafa reminded his captain, his dark eyes glancing away in embarrassment when he realized his captain was with a woman.

  Slowly Valentine drew his gaze away from Lily's face. He stared at Mustafa as if he were the crazed man and not himself. "A meeting? Damn! That engagement. The Devil, I remember now," Valentine swore, glancing back at Lily, who was leaning against him, her head turned away as if embarrassed by what had happened while held in his arms.

  Turning his face to her, he met her gaze and it shocked him, for there were tears in her eyes. He pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. "I must go. I will come back, Francisca. I promise you this is not over yet. I will come for you. Have your things packed, for I will not leave this camp without you," he warned.

  "No, please. You mustn't come into the camp. They are suspicious of strangers. It would not be wise," Lily told him, thinking to set up a meeting tomorrow. She would know what to do by then. "Tomorrow."

  "No. This evening. Agree to meet me or I will come for you and drag you out of that camp," Valentine told her, not to be denied. "Meet me on the bank, where I saw you riding yesterday. I will come in the evening, before it grows dark. My ship is anchored near there. I'll row ashore and no one will see us. I will not let you out of my life now. I do not understand what you've done to me, but I promise you I will know you as no lover of yours has before. This evening, Francisca. I will return for you in the evening," Valentine promised, reluctantly freeing her from his embrace as he stepped away from her and out into the bright sunshine.

  He started to walk away from her, then turned around with a boyish-looking smile on his handsome face. "You never asked what my name was," he said, seeking her figure where she stood in the shade of the tree, leaning against the trunk for support. "Or, perhaps, you already know it? 'Tis Valentine Whitelaw. Tonight, Francisca. Don't forget," he said, turning away.

  The Turk continued to stand where he was, just beyond the trees, his gaze narrowed thoughtfully as he stared beneath them at the shadowy figure standing there so quietly. He could see the woman's face, the eyes staring at him so strangely, but the shadows masked their color and the true shade of her hair. Where had he seen her before? he wondered. With a shrug and a shake of his turbaned head, he followed his captain from the fair.

  "I know your name, Valentine Whitelaw," Lily said shakily, a scalding tear falling form her eye as she watched his tall figure stride away. "I'll never forget you or what you have done to me."

  What kind of man was he that he could stand here and make love to her when he had a fiancée waiting for him? His casually spoken words struck her once again. His engagement. He had forgotten his engagement? How would Cordelia feel about being dismissed so easily? Lily speculated bitterly. The devil, he had said. He was certainly that, Lily decided, feeling his sweat drying on her body. She would never feel the same. Her mouth tasted of him. Her body smelled of him. He had touched her intimately, as no man had ever dared to do before.

  But more than that, he had made her feel a stranger to herself, and for that she would never forgive him. He had cheated her. He had made her feel emotions she'd never experienced before. He had stolen from her something precious-her love. She had given her love to a man who could never love her. A man who didn't even know who she was.

  With shaking hands, Lily tried to brush back her hair, but the long strands were tangled, and some of the flowers she'd woven into them had fallen to the ground, where they had been crushed beneath his feet. Lily felt her lips, wincing when she touched their bruised tenderness. In her dreams, she had dreamed of Valentine Whitelaw, of his kisses, and yet the reality of it had been far different from her innocent imaginings. She sighed, trying to straighten her bodice. She felt hot and uncomfortable and longed to wash herself clean of his touch, but when she smoothed the silk covering her breasts, the flesh tender now from his touch, she knew a deep longing to be held in his arms again.

  Picking up her basket, Lily walked from under the trees, her steps carrying her unseeingly through the fair and the mass of people crowding close around her. She stared without a flicker of recognition into the oddly colored eyes of a well-dressed gentleman walking by, never seeing the smile that crossed his handsome face as she passed. She stumbled slightly when she neared their cart, and glancing down, she noticed the small leather purse of money Valentine Whitelaw had paid her with. A glint of anger flared in her eyes as she thought of the insult. Had she been worth the price? she wondered, remembering how his mouth had devoured hers. Tonight, he had said. He would come for her this evening. He had told her to be there. He would not let her forget him. It was not over yet, he had promised. Indeed it was not.

  Lily smiled in anticipation of that meeting. She would be there, all right. But Valentine Whitelaw was in for a surprise, especially when she threw his money in his face for humiliating her. Lily's smile faded when she thought about how angry he would be when he discovered that she was Lily Francisca Christian. He would be disbelieving, then full of rage, then mortified to remember how he had held her and kissed her and admitted his desire for her. Oh, yes, Lily vowed with a glint in her eye, she would be there tonight. It was an assignation she would not miss if her life depended on it.

  For the moment, Lily put the anticipated meeting form her mind, for ahead, she could see Tristram and Dulcie, sitting in the shade, with plates balanced precariously on their laps while they ate. Raphael sat beside his young mistress, towering over her and her plate, watchfully. Every few minutes, his big paw landed on her lap, reminding Dulcie that he too was hungry. But when he saw Lily approaching, he stood up, eyeing her suspiciously until he recognized her, then his tail started its dangerous wagging, nearly sending Tristram's plate flying form his lap.

  "Oh, Mistress Lily," Tillie said, trying to rise from her seat in the back of the cart, where she sat beside Farley, Fairfax having stretched out beneath the shade of a large oak nearby. "I'll get ye some supper. Ye look tried to
death."

  "Stay seated, Tillie," Lily said, and Raphael barked and sat back down, returning his attention to Dulcie's supper.

  "Why, ye've sold almost all of the posies," she exclaimed. "Oh, but Mistress Lily, ye do look flustered something awful. Did someone hit ye in the mouth? Looks kinda swollen. I'll get some salve fer it," she said, starting to rise again.

  "I'll get it, Tillie dear," Farley offered kindly, unable to watch her trying to rise yet again. It was making him nervous.

  " 'Tis all right, please don't bother. It just stings a little," Lily said, placing the basket in the back of the cart, the purse of gold coins tucked beneath her waistband.

  "Did you get in the fight, Lily?" Tristram demanded, nearly choking on a mouthful of food as he eyed his sister’s disheveled appearance. "Sure looks as if you did."

  "What fight?"

  "You don't know, Lily?" Tristram asked, staring at her incredulously. "Where have you been for the last hour?"

  "I've been busy. But what is this about a fight?" she said glancing around. "Where is Rom?"

  "He's in town, with the constable and them officials, trying to make peace. There was a big fight t'other end of the fair, nearly ended up in the town, over that boy who stole the gentleman's purse. Seems the lad got beaten up pretty bad by one of the man's servants. Pretty ugly scene. Everyone got involved in it, even some of the townspeople. Surly bunch of louts. Lot of broken bones with all of the fists flying."

  "Rom wasn't hurt, was he?" Lily demanded.

  "No, that one knows how to take care of himself, though I reckon some of those he fought with can't say the same. I wouldn't save any food fer him, 'cause I reckon when he finishes there, he'll go to the council meeting. The elders called it early to discuss the fight and to decide if we are to be sent packin'," Farley said worriedly. "Been thinkin', Mistress Lily, what with that, and with winter comin' on in a few months and Tillie about ready to have the wee one, that we oughta find somewhere else to stay. Been all right, travelin' like we have, sleepin' 'neath the stars, but what happens when it starts to snow? Ain't goin' to be very good fer any o' us, especially the young 'uns, mistress."