Bound to a Spy

by Sharon Cullen

  It was not as easy to get her out of her gown but they made short work of it. Will, it seemed, was very adept at undressing a woman but Rose was grateful for she was suddenly free and it felt wonderful.

  She knew that she should be embarrassed, standing before a man completely naked, but she wasn’t.

  “You are beautiful,” he said, placing his hands on her hips and running them up her sides to cup her breasts. She shivered, not from the cold, although the room was that, but from a great need and the feel of his rough palms sliding up her bare skin.

  She drank in the sight of him. She had brothers. She’d seen them naked. But it was nothing compared to this. They had been boys at the time, all hard angles and pointy knees and elbows. Will was all man. Wide, rounded shoulders, large muscular chest tapering to a slim waist and even slimmer hips.

  His erection jutted out, heavy and full, from a nest of dark hair. Below hung his sacs, tucked up tight against his body.

  “If you keep looking at me like that,” he said. “I’ll lose it right here.”

  “I have that much control over you?” The thought overly excited her.

  “You have no idea.”

  “I would do anything for you.”

  “I want to make love to you, Rose. I want it so badly that I can taste it and I am this close to taking you right here and now. But I can’t. I can’t do that to you.”

  “What if I ask you to?”

  “I still wouldn’t do it.”

  “What if I begged you?”

  He hesitated and she could see him wavering, but he shook his head and her heart sank.

  “I want you to, Will. More than anything in the world I want to feel you inside of me.”

  “You say that now but you will regret it.”

  “Never,” she said fiercely.

  “Ah, Rose.” He touched her cheek, a soft, sad look in his eyes. “You will regret it. You want to go to your husband untouched.”

  “You’ve touched me in so many ways that I am only innocent of the one final act.”

  He closed his eyes. “You want to go to your husband a virgin.”

  “I want you to take my virginity.”

  “Rose.” His voice was strangled and he swallowed. “I can’t do it.”

  “You’re a man of morals.”

  “Not usually.”

  “So why now?”

  “Because I can’t do that to you. I won’t.”

  He kissed her softly this time, stepping close until his erection was pressing against her belly. She loved the feel of his skin, soft with wiry hair. He was so masculine that it was intoxicating. She doubted she’d ever meet anyone that was more of a man than Will Sheffield.

  She pulled away to gulp in air, feeling as if she were drowning in her emotions for him.

  He led her to the couch they’d lain on before, where he’d licked her and suckled her and made her touch the stars and the moon, and he laid her down on it, covering her body with his as if he were her blanket. They kissed and touched until they were both mad with longing and need.

  “Please,” she begged, beyond caring for her pride at this point.

  He kissed her again and inserted a finger in her, making her hips come off the cushion. She rubbed against his hand, the sensation coming upon her too quickly.

  “Will,” she sobbed. “I can’t…I need you inside of me.”

  “Ah, Rose. I am powerless against you. It will hurt.”

  “I don’t care.”

  “You will regret this.”

  She took his hips in her hands and guided him toward her. With a growl he entered her slowly at first, stretching her where she’d never been stretched before. She gritted her teeth. He was right. It was painful, but it was a good sort of pain. He was inside of her. They were one. And that was all that mattered.

  Then he forced himself all of the way in and she cried out, feeling as if she was being rent in two. Once he was fully seated inside of her he paused and looked down at her.

  She smiled up at him, feeling radiant and finally complete, and he smiled back and kissed her forehead before moving inside of her. Her hips seemed to know what to do for they took up their rhythm and the pain was gone and she was racing toward her completion.

  “Not yet,” she wanted to cry out. “Please not yet.” But her body was too excited. She arched her back, clenched her teeth and bore down on his cock and her release took her higher than she’d ever been before.

  It only took a few more strokes before he was shouting her name, his manhood contracting before warm liquid spurted into her.

  He sighed and collapsed onto her.

  It was long minutes before either of them spoke and their breaths evened out and their hearts stopped pounding.

  “Do you despise me?” he asked.

  “Why would I despise you?”

  “Because I was not strong enough to resist you.”

  “I was begging you. This was more my decision than yours.”

  He choked out a laugh. “I feel…”

  She clenched her eyes closed. Please don’t say you regret it. Please don’t say you feel as if we should not have done that.

  “I know I should be angry at myself for not resisting,” he said. “But I can’t bring myself to feel angry. Someday you may regret this but I never will, Rose.”

  She sighed and snuggled into him and closed her eyes.

  “I will never, ever regret making love to you, Will.”

  She could stay like this forever but the chilled room was becoming uncomfortable as their bodies cooled and she began to shiver.

  Will pushed himself off her. “We should get back before you are missed and I told Darnley that I would sit with him tonight. He’s becoming more morose and paranoid.”

  Rose didn’t want to leave but knew they couldn’t stay here forever, no matter how much she wanted to. There was an entire palace full of people not far from them and Margaret would miss her although she would also suspect where Rose had gone to.

  They helped each other dress and kissed softly before Will pulled the door open. Rose had a strange feeling that this was the last time they would see this room. For a moment she panicked that this might be the last time she would be alone with Will.

  She put a staying hand on his arm, causing him to turn and look at her with a raised brow.

  “I just…I want to thank you for…” She was suddenly reluctant to say, “making love to me.”

  He smiled softly and brushed his fingers through her hair. “Thank you, Rose.”

  She tapped his chest over his heart. “You’re a good man.”

  “Some would say differently.”

  “And they would be wrong.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips and reached for the door handle.

  “Wait,” she said.

  He quirked a brow.

  “I love you, Will Sheffield.” His amused expression slid into shock. “You don’t have to say it back. You don’t have to acknowledge it. You don’t even have to love me back. I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I love you and I will always love you.”

  Chapter 24

  Rose had never been this close to Queen Mary and she was very intimidated by the tall, regal queen.

  She approached slowly, trying to calm her erratic breathing. Mary was conversing with someone else and it gave Rose time to study her. She’d been in the same room with the queen many times but had never approached her nor spoken to her. Mary was much taller than most women and even taller than a lot of men. She loved the outdoors, though Rose guessed not nearly as much as Rose loved the outdoors, and she especially loved riding. All activities that kept the queen’s figure slim.

  Her regal head was tilted down as she listened to the man standing beside her. She nodded occasionally, and Rose could tell that she was really paying attention to what he had to say. Rose stopped far enough away so that she couldn’t overhear what the two were conversing about and she looked around. She’d never been admit
ted into Mary’s inner chambers. This was where she slept and where she conducted a lot of her business and Rose was intrigued. The bed was large and imposing with high posters and sumptuous hangings. The walls were dark paneled with paintings hanging from ceiling to floor.

  Two men were speaking quietly in the far corner and Rose was discomfited to think that they might be present when she spoke to the queen. She’d hoped that their meeting would be private but that had been naïve. Nothing Mary did was private.

  The small man left the room and Mary focused her piercing, dark eyes on Rose.

  “Come here, chère.”

  Rose swallowed nervously and curtsied so low that she feared she would fall over.

  “What can I do for you?” the queen asked, her voice husky and appealing. She was known to bewitch men and Rose could see why. Her smile was only for Rose, her attention only on Rose. Today she was wearing a gown of Highland green and blue plaid, something other than her normal black and white. Rose guessed that the queen wanted to fully represent Scotland to the guests in the palace.

  Rose glanced nervously at the two men in the corner.

  “Ignore them,” Mary said. “They will not bother us.”

  Rose bit her lip, nervous and apprehensive. Was she doing the right thing? Should she have kept quiet? No. To keep quiet would make her complicit and she did not want to be complicit in anyone’s murder. Even Darnley’s.

  Mary touched her lightly on the arm, bringing her attention back to the moment, and Rose saw that the queen was smiling at her.

  “I…” She did not even know where to start. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say all last evening and this morning before she’d been hurriedly summoned, but everything fled her mind.

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty,” she said, sounding a bit breathless. “I find I’m tongue-tied.”

  “Let us walk. Maybe it will ease your nerves.”

  Rose walked beside Mary as they made their way to the windows that overlooked the gardens beneath. To her mortification, Rose saw that the windows in the queen’s private rooms looked down on the hothouse where she and Will had…She could feel her face heat and she hurriedly looked away, turning toward the queen and throwing an anxious glance at the two men on the other side of the room.

  “I overheard a conversation,” Rose began. “Between some nobles of your court.”

  “Oh?” Mary’s tone was carefully neutral, her expression bland.

  Rose swallowed again. “I heard them discussing a plot to…harm Lord Darnley.”

  Rose had not known what to expect of Mary’s reaction to this news but there was nothing. Not even a flicker of an eyelid or a small intake of shocked breath from the queen.

  “I see. And what did these men say?”

  “They talked about you divorcing Lord Darnley and how that would not be possible because of the prince. And they said that there was only one other alternative.”

  She could not say it. Not in front of the queen. She didn’t know why, but she found the words stuck in her throat. However, she could see in the queen’s eyes that she was aware of what Rose meant.

  “When did you overhear this?” she asked.

  Rose was instantly on alert. She did not want to tell the queen that she’d known about this for some time but she had no choice. “A fortnight or so ago,” she said softly, ashamed that it had taken her this long to approach the queen with the information.

  Mary nodded, her gaze moving to the window to stare out. Several moments passed in which Rose listened to the rise and fall of the male voices on the other side of the room and tried to control her erratic breathing. She had a strange feeling of dread and wished she’d never said anything. This wasn’t going as she thought it would. She’d thought the queen would be more shocked, more…interested. But then she was a queen for a reason and showing her emotions would not be beneficial to her.

  “Who were these gentlemen that you speak of?” she asked.

  Rose hesitated. “I’m unsure as I did not see them. I only heard their voices. I believe one was Lord Lysle and possibly Lord Maitland and Lord Moray. There was another, but I could not place his voice.”

  “That was very brave of you to stay and listen to such a dastardly conversation.”

  Panic was beating at Rose’s chest. Something was not right about this.

  “Moray and Maitland are very close to me,” Mary said. “And Lysle is a powerful lord himself.”

  Rose nodded, again tongue-tied. In fact, Moray was Mary’s half brother. Did the queen feel more deceived because her brother was in on the plot?

  The queen remained quiet for some time and Rose did not know what to do. She couldn’t leave without being dismissed, and yet she felt like an intruder at the same time. So, she stood there awkwardly, trying not to stare at the queen and not to gawk at the sumptuous surroundings. She trained her eyes on a spot a few feet from the hem of her gown, clasped her hands in front of her and waited.

  Suddenly the queen shifted, drawing Rose’s gaze back to her. Mary’s expression revealed nothing, leaving Rose on edge.

  “I thank you for bringing this to my attention, Miss Turner. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision to make.”

  “On the contrary,” Rose said, vaguely thinking that she should not be contradicting a queen. “It was rather easy to decide to come to you. Lord Darnley is your husband and the father of your child. You should know when someone is threatening that, Your Majesty. I’m certain you would not want anything to happen to Lord Darnley.”

  Something flashed in Mary’s dark eyes, something cold that chilled Rose. “Yes. You’re right, of course. And you have done your duty well.” She smiled and it chased some of the coldness from her expression. “Are you enjoying the festivities?”

  “Oh, yes,” Rose said with a lack of conviction. She was feeling confused and on edge and found the sudden change in topic disconcerting. The queen had just been told someone was plotting to murder her husband and she wanted to know if Rose was having fun?

  “There is certainly more to come,” Mary was saying. “And of course, the baptism.”

  “Of course,” Rose said weakly.

  One of the men from the other side of the room approached and cleared his throat. Mary nodded to him and Rose knew that was her cue to leave.

  “Thank you for allowing this audience, Your Majesty.” She curtsied and backed out of the room.

  When the doors shut behind her she stood in the outer room and shivered, rubbing her arms where gooseflesh was forming.

  —

  “Alice said that you were summoned to meet with the queen.”

  Margaret wasted no time in asking Rose about it when Rose returned to their chambers. She was still unsettled about the meeting so she was only half listening to Margaret.

  “Rose!” Margaret said sharply, bringing Rose’s mind back to the present. “Why did you meet with the queen?”

  “I wanted to ask her if I could return home to visit my parents.”

  “Now? You want to return home now? Before the baptism?”

  “Of course not. But afterward I would like to see my parents and my brothers.” This was not a lie. She was sometimes so homesick for the simpler life and the comfort of her family that she thought she would weep with it. But also the thought of leaving Will made her want to weep too.

  “What did she say?”

  “Hmmm?”

  Margaret rolled her eyes. “The queen. Queen Mary. What did she say to your request?”

  “Oh. She said that would be fine.” Rose desperately wanted to tell Margaret everything. Margaret would pick apart the queen’s words with her to find the hidden meaning.

  “Well I will sorely miss you when you leave. I hope you intend to return.”

  Rose’s heart softened. “Will you miss me? Truly?”

  “Of course, you big numpty. We’re friends after all.”

  “Yes, we are. And of course, I will return. My mother would have it no other way.” She smiled, wa
rmed by Margaret’s outward show of friendship.

  “Tonight is the masquerade,” her friend was saying. “What will you wear?”

  “I haven’t thought about it.”

  “You’re the only lass I know who doesn’t give two figs for her clothing.”

  Margaret went to Rose’s wardrobe and, mumbling, started sorting through her gowns, pulling out and discarding several.

  Rose longed to see Will but no doubt he was holed up with Darnley. She wanted to talk to him, to tell him about her meeting with the queen and the queen’s strange reaction to her announcement of the plot. Or rather, the queen’s strange non-reaction.

  All day Rose felt a soreness between her legs, a delicious ache every time she moved that reminded her of making love to Will. She held the thought to her like a gift. At times she found herself smiling like a fool thinking of it.

  Making love did not change anything between them but it had shifted something fundamental inside of Rose and she treasured it.

  By now almost all of Rose’s gowns were in a pile on Margaret’s bed. Apparently, Margaret had not found the perfect one for the masquerade that Rose had no desire to attend.

  “We’ll have to figure this out later,” Margaret said, hands on hips as she surveyed the rainbow-colored pile of Rose’s gowns. “Right now we are to meet Emma and the others to create our masks for the ball.”

  “You go without me.”

  Margaret’s hands slid from her hips and she stared at Rose as if she’d sprouted a third eyeball in the middle of her forehead. “You have to go. You need a mask for the masquerade.”

  “I will follow shortly. I promise,” she added at Margaret’s disbelieving look.

  “Very well but you had better be there or I will come looking for you.” She stopped and considered Rose thoughtfully. “Do you have a rendezvous planned with Lord Sheffield?”

  “No.” Rose waved her friend’s concern away even though she wished she had a rendezvous planned with Will.

  No, she just needed some time alone. Her head was beginning to throb and honestly, the thought of spending any time with the girls that congregated around Emma and Margaret made her nauseous.