Faced with his anger, Keely struggled against her laughter and won. “I do apologize,” she said to the countess. “Pranking you was Henry’s idea.”
Heedless of his father’s anger, the young marquess accepted full credit for the disturbance. “We pranked you good,” he told the countess. “’Twas almost too easy to fool you.”
“I haven’t had this much excitement since my own children were young,” the earl’s mother said. “I can hardly wait until Devereux House echoes with the sounds of my own grandchildren’s laughter.” Her remark calmed everyone, including the duke who managed a faint smile.
“I cannot imagine the earl as a boy,” Keely said, gazing sidelong at him. “Can you tell me what he was like?”
“Richard was even more arrogant a boy than he is a man,” his mother told her. “Three older sisters managed to keep him humble.”
“Those three witches are the most incorrigible hoydens I ever met.” Richard winked at the countess. “Shame on you, Mother, for raising such disreputable females.”
“I raised my girls the same as my son,” she said. “You turned out rather nicely.”
Richard grinned. “My brothers-in-law would tell you their wives lack obedience.”
“Piss on obedience,” the dowager countess said. “Life is for living, not obeying.” She looked at her future daughter-in-law. “Do not believe his lies, child. A smidgeon of challenge keeps a man’s interest primed.”
Keely smiled and said, “Please tell me about your daughters.”
“Kathryn lives with her husband in Ireland and has made me a grandmother six times,” the countess replied.
“Three boys and three girls,” Richard said.
“Then there’s Brigette, who lives in Scotland,” the countess went on. “Iain and she have gifted me with four grandchildren.”
“Three boys and one exceedingly spoiled girl,” Uncle Hal added.
“As the saying goes, ‘the leaves do not fall too far from the tree,’” Richard interjected. “I always wished Brigette would be blessed with a daughter who inherited her temperament.”
“Heather married Prince Khalid and lives in Istanbul,” the countess finished. “I have one grandson, two granddaughters, and a baby on the way from them.”
“When Heather sailed to France nine years ago, pirates attacked her ship,” Richard said. “Prince Khalid rescued her. They promptly fell in love and married.” He glanced across the table at his stepfather. “Changing the subject a bit, are you interested in buying a few shares in my Levant Trading Company?”
Uncle Hal nodded and would have spoken, but Louise Devereux said, “Discussing business across the dinner table is terribly ill-mannered, Richard. Leave that dull subject for your study.”
“How can you say that?”
“’Tis dull to me,” the countess said. “I warrant your bride-to-be would much rather speak of other things. Wouldn’t you, my dear?”
“Why not tell us about your childhood?” Morgana said to Keely, then glanced down the table at the dowager countess. “Your future daughter-in-law was born on the wrong side of the blanket. For the earl’s sake, I do hope she hasn’t inherited any bad habits.”
Keely flushed with hot embarrassment. But what could she say? Morgana had spoken with brutal honesty.
“Guard your manners,” Duke Robert warned.
“’Tis the truth,” the blonde defended herself.
“Morgana, darling,” the Countess of Cheshire drawled. “Swallow your tongue.”
“My sentiments exactly,” Richard said, glaring at the blonde.
“What a woman carries inside her heart is more valuable than into which household she was born,” Louise Devereux said. “Though we select our spouses and our friends, choosing our family is beyond our ability. We’re stuck with whatever fate gives us.”
“Isn’t that the God-awful truth,” the Countess of Cheshire agreed.
“Well said, my love,” Duke Robert added.
Keely felt her brother nudging her thigh. Glancing down, she saw him giving her “the fig.” How could she have forgotten that quaint English Samhuinn custom?
“My lady, you defend me so prettily,” Keely said to the earl’s mother. “I must say—” She held her right hand into the air and poked her thumb through her index and middle fingers. Everyone but her brother gasped in horrified surprise. Richard bolted out of his chair, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her out of the room.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Richard snapped as the door closed behind them. “Is that your idea of civilized behavior?”
“Is telling your mother I like her forbidden?” Keely asked, confused by his anger.
“Telling my mother—?” Richard shouted with laughter. “Dearest, this”—he gave her the fig—”means ‘fuck you.’”
“Henry pranked me,” Keely cried, her hands flying to her breast. “Oh, Richard, I told your mother—what will I do?”
Richard pulled her into the circle of his arms “I like the sound of my name on your lips.”
“Hang that,” Keely moaned. “I can never face your mother again.”
“Consider the bright side, dearest. Queen Elizabeth could have been sitting in my mother’s place.”
Keely couldn’t quite suppress the horrified giggle that bubbled up in her throat.
“I’ll make the necessary explanation,” Richard said, taking her hand.
Everyone was awkwardly silent when the couple returned to the dining chamber. They’d heard the earl’s anger and then his peal of laughter.
Richard cleared his throat and, fighting against a smile, announced, “‘Twould appear that Keely has become the butt of a Halloween prank. Henry told her that gesture meant ‘I like you.’”
“I’m sorry,” Keely apologized to the earl’s mother. Sliding into her seat, she promised her brother, “I’m going to strangle you.”
“Give over,” Henry said, wearing the most unrepentant grin. “’Twas a stroke of genius and the best Halloween prank, though roasting Anthony was fun.” He glanced at the earl and threatened, “Wait until you discover what we’ve planned for you.”
Richard cast the boy an unamused look. “Henry, I shall derive the greatest pleasure from holding you down while Keely squeezes the life’s breath from your body.”
“I’ll help,” Morgana piped up.
“And so will I,” the Countess of Cheshire said.
Keely looked at the dowager countess. “Would you care to join our Halloween celebration tonight?”
Louise Devereux smiled, delighted with the ebony-haired beauty. “My dear, I cannot think of anything I'd enjoy more.”
Beside her, Uncle Hal cleared his throat.
“On the other hand, I can think of one activity that’s infinitely more pleasurable,” his wife amended, winking at her future daughter-in-law.
“What could that be?” Keely asked in virginal ignorance. “We could include it in tonight’s celebration.”
Everyone laughed at her expense. Keely blushed, though she couldn’t understand what they found so amusing.
“She was referring to what lovers do,” Richard whispered, leaning close. “What we shall be doing ten nights from now . . .”
Chapter 11
“What lovers do . . .”
Remembering the earl’s whispered words brought a flush to Keely’s cheeks and a melting sensation in the pit of her stomach.
Keely stared with unseeing eyes out her bedchamber window. Again she felt his warm breath tickling her ear, his sensual lips pressed to hers, his strong hands and his heated gaze caressing her naked breasts.
Pulling herself out of the sensual reverie, Keely gave herself a mental shake. The earl was becoming too important to her. Never would she give her heart or her trust to a man, least of all an English noble.
Keely gazed with anticipation at the darkening sky and smiled to herself. Samhuinn dusk shrouded the earth. Her gaze dropped to the section of the duke’s garden near the River
Thames. Odo and Hew had worked hard all afternoon to build a circle of stone for the Samhuinn fire. They’d filled the stone circle with kindling of yew, the sacred tree of eternity. All stood in readiness awaiting the enchanted night.
Dressed completely in black, Keely looked like a stableboy instead of a young woman on the threshold of marriage. She wore tight breeches, baggy shirt, leather jerkin, and scuffed boots. A black woolen cap hid her thick mane of ebony.
“I found a cork,” Henry announced, barging into her chamber. “I do hope Papa prefers his wine breathing.”
Keely turned away from the window. “I’ve selected your clothing for tonight.”
“How can I catch any pretty maids if I’m dressed like a girl?” he grumbled.
“’Tis the ancient Samhuinn custom to disguise yourself as the opposite sex,” she explained. “Besides, you’ll overhear them discussing your prowess and wondering where you are.”
His blue eyes narrowed on her. “Are you pranking me?”
“Would I do that?”
“Yes.”
Keely laughed at his suspicion. “I swear ’tis the truth. Put these on.”
Over his own clothing, Henry donned a threadbare violet wool skirt and linen blouse. Last came a hooded black cloak.
“Keep your head covered,” Keely told him, “or no one will believe ’tis me.”
“I need a couple of muskmelons.” Henry smiled. “I cannot be a girl unless I have a pair of titties. I want big ones, too. On the other hand, two gooseberries will do, since I’m supposed to be you.”
“Very funny.” Keely slapped his arm playfully and stepped back a couple of paces to inspect. “You do look like a girl.”
“Turn around,” Henry said. “You look exactly like a stableboy.”
Clutching the wine cork and her brother’s dagger, Keely headed for the hearth. She stuck one end of the cork onto the dagger and held the other end to the flame until it charred. Then she blew on the cork to cool it.
“Stand still.” Using the charred end of the cork, Keely blackened her brother’s face. “Evil spirits cannot recognize us and follow us home if we blacken our faces.
“I wish we had a full moon tonight,” Henry said as she streaked his face.
“Celebrating Samhuinn during the dark moon is best,” Keely informed him. “Seeing beyond the horizon into the Other World requires our mortal sight be obscured.”
“At times, sister, you say the strangest things.” Lifting the charred cork out of her hand, Henry smudged her face with black and even dotted the tip of her nose.
Grabbing the yew sprigs, brother and sister headed for the door. Henry opened it a crack and peered outside. No one was about. Gesturing to her, Henry led the way down the shadowed corridor to the top of the stairs.
From below drifted the muffled voices of several retainers who were loitering in the foyer. Henry and Keely wanted no one to see their disguises before the celebration began.
“Should we wait until they leave?” Henry whispered.
“Let’s make a run for the door,” Keely answered. “If we’re fast enough, they won’t recognize us.”
Henry nodded. “One, two, three—go!”
Keely and Henry raced down the stairs and darted past the startled retainers in the foyer. Without breaking stride, Henry yanked the door open, and they flew into the courtyard.
Henry kept running down the path that led to the gardens, but Keely paused. With a soft smile touching her lips, she inhaled dying October's crisp twilight air and felt anticipation surging through her body.
The night had been created for magic. A rising tide of energy charged the hushed air with expectancy, while the muted colors of dusk slashed across the sky’s oceanic horizon from east to west. No moon would shine from the sky that night, and an eerie splendor permeated the atmosphere.
“Soon, Megan,” she whispered, “we will be together again.”
Keely could hardly wait for the secular celebration to end. When the English skeptics sought their beds, she would commune with her mother.
Keely followed her brother down the path to the section of the gardens near the Thames River. Odo and Hew awaited her there. With her cousins stood May and June, who gaped in surprise at their future Countess of Basildon disguised as a stableboy.
“Please light the Samhuinn fire,” Keely bade her cousins.
“I’ll do it,” Odo said.
“You lit last year’s,” Hew protested.
“And I’ll do it again,” Odo insisted.
“Leave him alone,” May defended Hew.
“Do you dare to order Odo?” June cried in outrage.
“Keep out of this,” May snapped, reaching to pinch her sister.
The Lloyd brothers stepped between the bickering twins. Odo rolled his eyes heavenward, and Hew answered him with a shrug.
“Together then?” Odo asked.
Hew grinned and nodded.
While the two couples were arguing, Keely and Henry had completed the task. They stepped back a few paces to stare at the crackling blaze. Soon, bright flames in the twilight drew the Talbot and Devereux retainers.
Carrying sprigs of yew, Keely and Henry went their separate ways and circulated through the gathering crowd. Both offered their yew sprigs to one and all.
Keely scanned the growing crowd for the earl, but he hadn't made an appearance yet. She did spy the duke and the countess and hurried in their direction.
“Sprig of yew?” Keely offered, sidling up to him.
Duke Robert accepted the yew. “Be certain you wash your face tonight, Henry.”
“I’m Keely,” she corrected him, and giggled.
Duke Robert and Lady Dawn stared in surprise at her.
“Henry and I switched identities for the celebration,” Keely said, insinuating herself between them. “Chaos does reign supreme, and the person with whom you speak during the next three days of no-time may not even be mortal.”
“Oh, Tally, I have the shivery creeps,” Lady Dawn said. “Is it safe to be outside?” ’
“Don’t worry, lovey. I’ll protect you,” Duke Robert promised.
“Is everything ready inside?” Keely asked.
“As you wished, child,” Duke Robert answered. “The fire blazes in the hearth, the apples bob in tubs of water, and the chestnuts await their roasting.”
“Even Morgana is cooperating,” the countess added. “She’s retired to her chamber for the evening.”
“What about the special feast?”
“My best wine and fare sit at the place of honor at the high table,” the duke answered.“
“A terrible waste of good food,” Lady Dawn remarked.
“Custom requires we offer a meal of honor to those who have gone before us.” Keely gazed at her father’s profile and added in a soft voice, “When skeptics sleep, our departed loved ones will return to impart their infinite wisdom and special knowledge.”
An eerie dreamy quality in her voice made Duke Robert snap his head around.
“What do you mean, child?”
Keely cast him an ambiguous smile but said nothing.
* * *
Drawn by the flames in the night and the sounds of laughter emanating from the duke’s garden, Richard walked down the path that led to the Talbot estate. Emerging from between the rows of shrubbery, he smiled when he saw the revelers and sauntered across the manicured lawn toward them. His sharp gaze scanned the crowd for his betrothed.
And then Richard saw her. Weaving her way through the throng, Keely appeared a fey creature of the mysterious night. Her black cloak swirled around her legs, and its hood shrouded her head.
Surprisingly, no welcoming smile graced the lips of her blackened face as she walked forward and then past him. Richard snaked his hand out and grabbed her upper arm. He whirled her around and yanked her up against his unyielding masculine frame.
“Dearest, I want my Halloween treat.” He leaned down to capture her mouth.
“Yuck.” T
he voice belonged to Henry Talbot. “Basildon, you’re disgusting.”
Richard leaped back as if scorched by fire, and his face reddened with angry embarrassment. What trick was this? His future brother-in-law disguised as his betrothed? “Where the hell—?”
“Sprig of yew, m’lord?”
Richard whirled around to see a dirty-faced stableboy. He dropped his gaze to the hand holding the sprig of yew. Gleaming in the light cast by the fire, his betrothal ring winked at him from the urchin’s finger.
Pretending he didn’t recognize her, Richard smiled lazily. “I’ll take the sprig, boy.” He reached for the yew, but his hand closed around her wrist and yanked her against him. With his free hand, Richard pulled the cap off her head and tossed it over his shoulder, then watched as her ebony mane cascaded to her waist.
“About that kiss, dearest?” Richard whispered.
Keely blushed beneath the grime on her face. “With all these people watching us?”
“Come with me.” Taking her by the hand, Richard led Keely to a secluded section of the garden where several oak trees offered them privacy. Here, the heavy mist off the Thames crept over the land and swirled around their legs.
Keely leaned against the comforting solidness of one oak and then regretted it. With his hands resting against the trunk on either side of her head, the earl trapped her there.
“Do you like our Samhuinn celebration?” Keely asked, trying to mask her nervousness.
“Samhuinn?” Richard arched a copper brow at her. “I thought ’twas Halloween.” Captivated by the earl’s handsome face coming closer and closer, Keely was unable to reply. She snapped her eyes shut at the last possible moment. His lips covered hers, sending a shiver down her spine.
Richard flicked his tongue across her lips, which parted for him. His tongue ravished her mouth, exploring and tasting of its incredible sweetness.
Keely moaned and surrendered to the unfamiliar feelings. She entwined her arms around his neck and pressed herself against his masculine frame.
Richard broke the kiss and smiled at her dazed expression. She was as sensual as she was sweet. What joy awaited him in his marriage bed when he initiated her into the ways of carnal flesh.
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