Laughing, James replied, "Nay, love, that rumor was settled before my birth." He held out his hand. Forced, she came to him. Her leaf-green eyes were blazing furiously. James laughed softly again. Oh, now she was going to fight him with her stubborn mind. Her body, however, would yield eventually. There was plenty of time, and he intended to go easily with her tonight.
"Remove the gown," he said quietly, and was pleased when she obeyed him without question.
Standing back, he viewed her with pleasure. She had a wide, well-padded chest that moved downward into the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen, lovely ivory globes with large dark-pink nipples. Her waist was slender and long, her full hips nicely rounded, her legs long and shapely. Her tawny hair fell to her hips. He could feel desire beginning to pound.
"God's bones, cousin! Yer beautiful!"
To his surprise she blushed pink, and James was frankly delighted. It was true then. She really had never known another man except Patrick. She really was the most virtuous woman at court. He would see she was rewarded by making her a lady of his wife's bedchamber. She would be an excellent influence.
Taking her hand again, he led her across the room to their bed. Picking her up, he placed her on it. The tempting triangle between her legs was plucked and pink, as befitted a lady, and at the top of the cleft sat a little black mole. "The mark of Venus," he murmured, touching it. He bent over and kissed the mole.
A great shudder ran through her, and James smiled to himself. He was going to take her quickly, for once the deed was done her foolish resistance would crumble. Gently but firmly, he parted her trembling thighs. Her eyes widened, and she gasped in surprise when he gently pushed into her. Like most male Stewarts, James was overly endowed. The suddenness of his attack made it impossible for Cat to struggle, so she decided to lie quietly while he satisfied his lust.
James, however, was too skilled a lover to allow passivity from his partner. Teasingly, voluptuously, he moved within her, deliberately rousing Cat's passion and making it nearly impossible for her to resist him. Only a supreme effort on Cat's part helped her to lie still beneath him. Her hands were balled into fists by her sides. By concentrating on the sharpness of her nails digging into her palms, she could blot out enough of what he was doing to her to remain a nonparticipant.
Discovering this, the king said, "Oh, no, my love," and, laughing, drew her arms up over her head. He held them there with one hand. Now his sensuous mouth found her fragrant but unresponsive lips. His insistent tongue forced first those lips and then her teeth apart, thrusting with skill. She sobbed, and another shudder shook her. She was close to yielding, for he had breached her defenses. Her lovely body, used to regular lovemaking, was simply not conditioned to resist pleasure. He increased the tempo of his movement. "Yield to me, love!" he whispered insistently.
"Never." But her voice was shaking.
"The deed is done, my love. Yield, and take yer pleasure of me as I take my pleasure of ye."
She would not answer him, but he could feel her fighting down the movement in her hips. Then it occurred to him what he must do. Loosing his hold on her hands, he said, "Put yer arms around me, my love." And he looked down into her leaf-green eyes. They were glistening with tears. "If Patrick walked into this room right now, Cat, and found me planted in ye, he'd nae stop to ask if ye were resisting me, or enjoying me. Dinna fight me any longer, my love. Yer beautiful body aches for me! Nothing can change the fact that I already possess ye! Yield!"
She still said nothing to him, but her eyes closed, and hot tears rolled silently down the sides of her face. Then her arms tightened around him, and her hips arched to meet his every thrust. Victorious, James Stewart lost himself in the deliciousness of her surrender.
Afterwards, propped on one elbow, he looked down on her, but she closed her eyes and would not look back at him. "This is how I've always imagined ye," he said to her, his voice low. "Yer eyelids purple wi exhaustion, the lashes wet on yer cheeks, yer body weak from love, and yer mouth bruised wi my kisses." He bent and kissed the nipples of her breasts.
Her eyes flew open. "I'll nae forgie ye this, Jamie Stewart!"
He smiled charmingly at her. "Why, of course ye will, my sweet love. Of course ye will!" Cradling her in the curve of one arm, he began to fondle her soft breasts. She tried to squirm away.
"Please, sire! Ye've had yer pleasure wi me. Now, find yer own bed!"
"Why, Cat, sweet." His voice held genuine surprise. "Surely ye dinna think that one taste was all I wanted? Nay, my darling! We hae the whole night ahead of us."
"Oh, no, Jamie! Please no!" She began to struggle against him.
He held her fast, and said regretfully, "My dear, I had hoped ye would see reason now that our preliminary bout is over. It will make no difference to Patrick whether I hae ye once or a dozen times. The simple fact that I've fucked ye will be enough. I know yer no wanton, my love, but ye canna deny yer body responds to mine. Why do ye insist on fighting me? I am gentle wi ye, and I know I am a good lover. Why do ye continue to resist?"
"Oh, Jamie," she said softly. "I really believe ye dinna understand. I hae never known any man but Patrick. Before we were wed, I resisted him, but I loved him. Of course my body responds to ye. He taught it to respond. But now ye come and claim the droit du seigneur of me. In bed my mind and body have always worked as one because I lay wi the man I love. But I dinna love ye, my lord. I cannot help but resist ye."
"Yer very fortunate, my lovely cousin," said James Stewart. "I hae never loved anyone. I dinna ken what it really means. I was raised by those who fed, clothed, disciplined, and educated me. I canna remember a kind word or a caress when I was a child. The only person who ever showed me any tenderness was my old nurse."
"Then I'm truely sorry for ye, Jamie, for to really love is to live life to its fullest. Yer problem is that ye've never had anyone of yer own. When the little queen comes home to Scotland, she will be yers alone. And when the bairns come-why, Jamie! Before ye know it ye'll hae a whole big family to love, and be loved by."
"Thank ye, Cat. Ye gie me hope." He smiled at her. "Ye really do belong at court, my love. Ye know what to say to yer king. I do look forward to the arrival of my queen, but now…" Gently he pushed Cat back against the pillows and, finding her mouth, kissed her with a practiced skill. Her first reaction was to struggle from his clutches. Then suddenly she realized the king was right. If Patrick arrived home now his reaction to her predicament, whether she resisted or cooperated, would be the same. Anger at her!
Her body was in real pain from resisting. I dinna love this man, she thought, but I can stand no more of this!
He stopped kissing her, and was looking down at her. Her eyes met his. "I'll never love ye, Jamie, and I am ashamed of what ye are making me do, but I yield to ye, my liege."
"Until the queen comes," he countered quickly.
"My lord! Ye'll destroy my marriage! Ye canna hide from Patrick the fact that yer laying wi me."
"I can if he isna here. No man in his right mind could taste of yer sweetness and stay but one night. I will send Patrick to Denmark wi a group of nobles to escort the queen home. Our liaison will be kept secret from the court. Yer reputation will remain intact. Yer husband's pride willna suffer."
She knew she must be satisfied with that. She could argue no more with him. "Thank ye, my lord," she whispered.
In answer the king bent his head and began kissing her quivering body, starting with the pounding pulse in her slender throat. He moved his lips to her chest, her taut breasts with their sharp, pointed tips, her rounded belly, the mole at the top of her cleft. Suddenly, he turned her over and took her in a way that Patrick Leslie never had. She gasped in shock and heard the king mutter thickly, "Here's one place Glenkirk's nae been before me." His hands cruelly crushed her breasts. To her amazement he brought them to a quick climax. They lay quietly side by side as their breathing returned to normal.
"I hope," said James Stewart, "that the queen does nae a
rrive too quickly. My love! Ye are magnificent! No wonder Patrick hasna strayed all these years!"
Her voice was trembling. "Patrick never did what ye just did tome."
"I know," he said. "Ye were a virgin there, but ye liked it, didn't ye, Cat?"
"No!"
He laughed. "Aye! Ye did! Glenkirk's used ye gently, my love. I'll teach ye many things, including how to please me." He rose and poured them each a goblet of wine, and added more wood to the fire. "Soon yer Patrick should return from Melrose Abbey. Within the week he'll be on his way with some others to meet my bride and escort her home. Dinna look so sad, my love. We hae a lovely month or two ahead of us."
Chapter 15
THE Countess of Glenkirk sat quietly before her mirror while Ellen brushed her thick honey-colored hair. She wore only her white silk petticoat and a low-necked underblouse. Cat Leslie was frightened, and she did not know what to do. Patrick was, she knew, within the palace giving his report to the king. When he finally came to their apartment, would he notice anything different? She prayed he wouldn't.
Since the twentieth of August-a week ago-James Stewart had been sleeping with her. God knew she hadn't encouraged him! In fact, after the first night, she had fled the palace for her townhouse. He had quietly but firmly ordered her return. Desperate, she had confided in her favorite brother-in-law. Adam Leslie listened. Shaking his head, he said, "There's no help for it, Cat. What the king wants, he takes, and he happens to want ye."
"If I went home to Glenkirk, Adam? Surely he wouldn't pursue me there."
Adam Leslie was truly sorry for Cat. She was willful and stubborn, but she loved Patrick. The agony she was enduring was unfair. Nevertheless, there was no help for it. "Ye canna leave court wi'out Jamie's permission, Cat. Ye know that."
For a brief moment she looked defiant, and Adam spoke cruelly. "Ye canna endanger the Leslies, Cat, because it doesna suit ye to be the king's mistress. He's chosen ye, and he's even been kind enough to agree to keep yer liaison secret. If ye defy him, he'll ruin us! God, woman! Yer no virgin, bargaining a good price for yer maidenhead! What Jamie wants has already been well used by Glenkirk!"
Briefly Cat hated Adam. "Ye'll not tell Patrick?"
"Nay, Cat. Dinna fear," he said more kindly. He hesitated. "Cat, thank ye for confiding in me. I'm truly sorry, lass, that I canna help ye, but I'm here should ye need to talk again."
She nodded. "Does anyone else know?"
"Only Ellen," she answered him.
Faithful Ellen vacillated between her mistress's agony and her own pride that Cat was exquisite enough to attract the king. "If ye dinna put a smile on yer face, he will wonder what's wrong," the woman said sharply.
Cat jumped. "Oh God, Ellie! I feel so dirty!"
Ellen put down the brush. Kneeling before her lady, she looked up and spoke. "What is done is done, ma-dame. Stop being so selfish! Yer thinking only of yerself. Think of the earl instead, my baby. Think of the family. Of yer own bairns. If ye want peace in yer life, this episode must be secret. And unless ye pull yerself together it won't be!"
Two tears slipped down the countess' face. Ellen reached up and brushed them away. "The king may touch yer body, my lady, but he can nae touch yer soul," she said quietly.
"How did ye get so wise?" Cat asked. But before Ellen could answer the door burst open and Patrick Leslie entered. Cat leaped to her feet and flung herself into his arms. Ellen discreetly withdrew as the earl found his wife's mouth. Kissing her deeply, his arms tightened about her until she cried out, "Patrick! I canna breathe!" He swept her up and deposited her on the bed.
She watched as he drew off his boots and outer clothing, and then stretched out next to her on their bed. He pulled her into his arms, pushed her blouse down, and kissed her lovely breasts. "I missed ye terribly, sweetheart," he murmured from the warmth of her. She cradled him against her, grateful he was back, and hoping he might save her from the further attentions of the king.
He raised his head up. "What were ye dressing for?" he asked.
"Another damned masque in honor of the Danish match," she answered.
"I think, considering I've been away, that Jamie might not miss us." He pushed her petticoats up past her thighs.
A smile lit her face, and she held out her arms to him.
But James Stewart did miss them. "I dinna see Glenkirk and his wife," he said casually to his cousin the Earl of Bothwell. "He came back from Melrose today."
"I'm nae surprised, Jamie," said Bothwell. "I imagine that Glenkirk has taken his wife to bed. If she were mine, and I had been away from her a week, that's what I would do." He grinned wickedly at the king. "The most virtuous woman at court! A pity, eh, majesty?"
"Considering the morals of most of the women at this court," said the king sharply, "I think Lady Leslie is refreshing. I intend making her a lady of my wife's bedchamber."
Oh ho, thought Bothwell. Cousin Jamie is interested in our beautiful countess. But he hides his lust nicely. I'll wager that only I, who know him so well, have spotted it.
The earl chuckled to himself. Because James was affectionate with those about him, and these were mostly males, he was thought to be homosexual. The plain truth of the matter was that the king, having been surrounded by men since his infancy, gave his affections where he could. Stewarts were loving creatures. Until recently there had been no suitable women for the king to fix his attentions on.
James had, in a burst of romanticism, willed himself half in love with his blond bride. But Bothwell knew that the king needed someone right now. If that someone was the Countess of Glenkirk, then well and good. She was neither ambitious nor a schemer. However, the earl did not think the king stood a chance. The lady seemed quite content with her dull but loving lord. A pity, really. Cat Leslie was a gorgeous creature, obviously made for love. Bothwell couldn't help but wonder if Glenkirk had awakened her completely.
James endured the evening. When he could leave without causing undue comment he did so. and suffered himself to be put ceremoniously to bed. He then called his chamberboy to him. The lad was invaluable, being mute but not deaf. His name was Barra, and he was privy to all the king's secrets.
"I'll be in the secret passageway," said the king. "I am locking the bedroom door from my side. Have ye yer key?"
Barra held his up.
"Good," said the king. "Dinna let anyone disturb me. If there's an emergency, you come after me alone."
The boy nodded wisely, and left the room to keep watch outside James' door.
Locking the door from inside, James walked to the fireplace and touched a small carving on its side. He took a lighted candle from the mantel sconce, counted off six paces, pushed the wall, and walked through the opening into the passage. He waited until the door had swung shut behind him and then moved quickly through the secret passageway until he came to his destination. He placed his candle in a holder high on the wall. Lifting a small flap, he peered into the room beyond.
Patrick Leslie stood naked by the table pouring out two goblets of wine. God, thought James, he is handsome, and well hung too-though not quite as well as I am.
The king watched as the earl moved back to the rumpled bed. Cat lay naked. Lazily she reached up for the goblet. Patrick sprawled next to her.
"Jesu, sweetheart, I hate being away from ye," the earl said.
"Then let's go home, Patrick! Ye were right when ye said we should nae involve ourselves wi the Stewarts."
"Why, hinny, I thought ye were enjoying yerself."
"I was, but these people who live at court and feed off it frighten me. I want to go home wi ye now!"
"We canna, sweetheart. I didna tell ye because I didna want our reunion spoiled, but Jamie has asked me to go to Denmark wi a group of nobles to escort the little queen home. I could nae refuse him, and we leave in a week."
Cat swore. She knew the king had planned to send her husband off, but she had not expected him to act so quickly and had hoped she could foil the royal plans. "Yer sendin
g me home, Patrick, aren't ye?"
"I wanted to, hinny, but the king has asked that ye remain at court. He wants ye to be a lady of his wife's bedchamber. He has a high regard for ye, sweetheart."
Trapped! She was again trapped by James Stewart! The earl put down his goblet and, pulling Cat under him, kissed her hungrily. "I hae only a few days, ma-dame," he said, "before I must leave ye. It will be two months or more before we see each other again." His big hands caressed her breasts, her hips, her thighs.
Cat needed no encouragement. She yielded eagerly to her husband, unaware that the king himself was watching them.
James could not tear his eyes away from the scene below him. When the figures reached their simultaneous climax James felt the hardness in his own groin break, and the sticky fluid spurt down his leg.
I'll nae put up wi this for a week, he thought. The delegation to Denmark will leave as soon as I can arrange it.
Using the pose of an eager bridegroom, James waved his nobles off three days later. Cat knew why her husband had been torn from her early and was furious. The Eral of Bothwell suspected, and laughed to himself over the king's eagerness.
Suspecting that she would be angry with him, James stayed away from his reluctant mistress for two days. On the third day, however, Barra shyly pressed a rose on the countess' tiring woman. It was the signal for James to come that night. Ellen told her mistress.
"I'll nae receive him!" shouted Cat furiously.
"Be silent!" Ellen snapped. "Do ye want the whole world to know?"
Cat began to weep uncontrollably, and Ellen, sensing disaster, sent a Leslie servant running to fetch Adam. By the time he arrived, Ellen had already poured several drams of whisky into her mistress to calm her down.
"I am going to kill myself," the countess announced dramatically.
"Fine," said Adam Leslie. " 'Twill be far less of a scandal than if ye openly refuse the king's attentions."
"Ye'd let me do it, wouldn't ye, Adam? Have ye no feelings for Patrick, who loves ye?"
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