Keely felt like swooning at the sensuous sight of a pagan god sprung to life. She longed to flee the chamber, but it was too late. She raised her gaze to his and was caught by his intense emerald gaze.
"Thank you for coming, my lady," Richard greeted her as his man set a stool next to the bed and left.
"Call me Keely."
"Then you must call me Richard." The warmth of his smile could melt mountain snow.
Keely answered his smile with one of her own, then crossed the chamber and sat on the edge of the bed to inspect his ankles. Holy stones! The man even had beautiful feet.
"There's no swelling," she said. "Which one is it?"
"Both."
Keely looked at him in confusion.
"I sprained the right one," Richard explained. "Then I twisted the left trying to hobble upstairs."
"This mixture will help." Keely poured some of the oil into her hand and passed him the bottle. Lifting his right ankle onto her lap, she began to work the oil into his skin—his beautiful skin. What she needed was a diversion from what she was doing.
"Have you changed your mind about my cousins?" she asked.
"Perhaps."
Keely snapped her head up, saw his smile, and realized he was teasing her. "You stole too," she teased him back. "You kissed me without my permission."
"What I did in the study could hardly be labeled a kiss," Richard told her. "Besides, if every man who stole a kiss from a pretty girl were condemned as a thief, there'd scarcely be an Englishman alive." His gaze narrowed on her. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
Keely remained silent, but the hint of a smile flirted with the corners of her lips.
"If you kiss me with passion now," Richard baited her, "I'll consider your cousins and myself even."
"Extortion is against the law," Keely reminded him.
"Let's begin a life of crime," Richard suggested, leaning forward. "Robbery and extortion could be our specialties."
Keely gave him a withering look.
"Well then, tell me about yourself," he said.
"There's nothing to tell."
"I have three older sisters," Richard told her, thinking she'd reveal more of herself if he did. "Kathryn is the oldest at thirty, followed by Brigette at twenty-eight and Heather at twenty-six."
"I always wished for a big family, especially a sister," Keely admitted. "Tell me about yours."
"My sisters tormented me without mercy and had absolutely no respect for a fledgling earl."
Keely laughed. "Do they also attend the court?"
"Sadly, none of them live in England."
"Tell me how they tormented you."
Richard cocked a copper brow at her. "Might you be looking for ideas?"
Keely smiled and set his right foot on the bed. She lifted his left foot onto her lap and began massaging oil into his ankle.
"Your name is quite unusual," Richard remarked.
"Keely means 'beauty.' "
"Appropriate. Richard means 'powerful ruler.' "
Keely smiled at that. He did possess the arrogance of a king. "How old are you?" she asked.
"I became twenty-five on the sixth day of May."
"We are direct opposites," Keely told him. "You were born a stubborn bull, while I am a deadly scorpion."
"You're too delicate and gentle to be dangerous," Richard disagreed.
"Spoken with all the arrogance of a man." Keely set his foot aside, then removed herself from dangerous temptation by wandering across the chamber to gaze out the window.
Twilight's muted shades of dusky violet, deep indigo, and black velvet washed across the horizon. Dusk was Keely's second favorite time of day.
The fog off the Thames crept closer and closer to the house. The heavy shroud of mist clung to the earth like a lover.
"What do you see?" Richard asked, reclining against the pillows on his bed.
"Beyond the horizon," Keely answered without thinking.
"What excellent eyesight you have." Laughter lurked in his voice.
"Seeing beyond the horizon requires heart, not eyesight."
"The Thames is probably impossible to see through the evening fog."
"I see dragon's breath, not fog," she replied.
"Where's the dragon?"
"Nearer than you think."
Keely turned away from the window and realized with a start that the earl had removed his shirt. Mesmerized by the fiery copper hair covering his chest, Keely wished she had the courage to march across the chamber and run her fingers through it. Would those strands of fire be hot to the touch?
"Do you like what you see?" Richard asked in a husky voice.
His question startled Keely. Her gaze flew to his, while her cheeks pinkened into a becoming blush. Keely tried to think of a jaunty reply, but her mind remained humiliatingly blank.
"I really should be leaving," she said.
Richard nodded but fixed a pitiful expression onto his face and asked, "Before you leave, could you rub a little more oil into my ankles?"
Keely hesitated for a fraction of a second, then gifted him with a beguiling smile and returned to sit on the bed. She poured a bit of oil into her hand and began massaging his right ankle.
"Sunset is my favorite time of day," Richard said conversationally.
Keely looked at him in surprise. "Sunrise is mine. Dawn fills my heart with hope."
"Are you awake that early?"
Keely nodded. "I love to greet the dawn."
"Do you know that every sunset is different?"
"As is every sunrise."
Sitting so close that their bodies were merely a hairbreadth apart, Richard gazed at her upturned face. "Your eyes are the most startling shade of violet," he told her. "A man could lose himself in their mysterious depths."
Keely blushed and dropped her gaze. "Thank you for the flowers."
Richard gently tilted her chin up and waited until she raised her gaze to his. "You do remind me of a princess," he whispered.
Keely stared at him unwaveringly as his face slowly inched its way to hers. The sight of his sensual lips descending to claim hers made her heart flutter with anticipation.
Her eyes closed. Their lips met. His mouth felt warm and gently insistent on hers.
"So sweet," he murmured, his breath mingling with hers.
The intoxicating feel of his mouth and the husky sound of his voice made Keely melt. Strong arms encircled and drew her against the solidness of his body as her arms entwined his neck.
Keely reveled in these new and exciting feelings and returned his kiss in kind.
Encouraged by her ardent response, Richard deepened the kiss. His tongue flicked across her lips, which parted for him like a flower blossoming in the heat of the sun. In an instant, his tongue invaded the sweetness of her mouth—probing, exploring, tasting.
Keely shivered in his embrace as she surrendered to his masterful possession. Losing herself in his drugging kiss, she stroked his tongue with her own.
Ever so gently, Richard pulled her down on the bed. His lips left hers and rained feathery light kisses on her temples, eyelids, and throat. When his mouth returned to hers, his kiss was all-consuming.
Swept away on wings of unfamiliar yearning, Keely never felt him pushing her blouse and chemise down, baring her pink-tipped breasts to his heated gaze. Richard flicked his tongue lightly across one of her nipples and suckled gently, igniting the essence of her womanhood into a blazing inferno, sending flames of molten sensation coursing through her body.
Keely burned with white-hot desire. As if from a distance, she heard a woman's moan of pleasure. Her own. Beyond reason, she molded her young body to his....
As Keely succumbed to the earl's seduction, the Countess of Cheshire donned her cloak and left Talbot House. She strolled leisurely down the path to the stables, but before she reached the stableyard, she began to run.
"Tally, where are you?" Lady Dawn called. "Here!" The voice sounded from inside one of the stables
.
Lady Dawn rushed inside. Duke Robert, Odo, and Hew were inspecting the hooves of one of his horses. This was even better than she had planned.
"I found this in Keely's chamber," the countess said, waving a piece of parchment in the air. "You'll be interested in reading it."
"Later, Chessy," the duke snapped without looking up. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
The countess curled her lip at his back. " 'Tis important."
"I'm listening. Read it."
"Very well," Lady Dawn said sweetly. She opened the parchment and began in a sultry voice, " 'My dearest beauty.' "
The three men stopped what they were doing and looked at her.
Pleased that she had an attentive audience, the countess read with feeling: " 'Losing my temper was unforgivable, but can you fault me for wanting you in my bed forever? What we shared the other day was paradise. Come to me, my darling. I long to feel your silken—' "
"Where is she?" the duke demanded.
Lady Dawn fixed a frightened expression onto her face. "V-v-visiting the earl."
Duke Robert dashed out of the stable, with Odo and Hew hard on his heels. A smile of satisfaction appeared on Lady Dawn's face, and then she hurried after them. She wouldn't miss this for all the diamonds in England.
"You can't go up there," Jennings insisted, blocking the stairway as the three gigantic men tried to rush past him.
As if he were no bigger than a gnat, Duke Robert lifted the man and tossed him across the foyer. With the duke in the lead, the avenging horde of three flew up the stairs.
"Devereux!" Duke Robert shouted, barging into the earl's bedchamber.
"No!" Keely cried as her father and cousins crashed into the room.
Richard leaped off the bed and protectively blocked her from view, giving Keely a chance to cover her bared breasts. Though courageous by nature, Richard possessed a healthy instinct for survival, which made him step back a pace. He'd expected only the duke to discover him in this untenable position. Was three-against-one Cheshire's idea of a joke?
The angry intruders advanced on Richard. Three fists aimed for his handsome face. Duke Robert's fist reached it first, hitting the earl's right cheekbone, sending him whirling to the left. Odo's fist met the earl's left cheekbone there, and Richard whirled back to the right. Hew's fist caught his face dead center, sending him sprawling to the floor.
"Richard!" Keely dropped to her knees beside him. She gently cradled his head against her chest and glared at her rescuers. "I'll never forgive you for hurting him."
Too dazed to move, Richard grinned stupidly at her and murmured, "Hello, Beauty."
"Prepare yourself for a wedding, Devereux," Duke Robert growled. "I'll be speaking with the queen in the morning."
"I can't marry him!" Keely cried.
"You'll marry Devereux," her father threatened, "or I'll be forced to kill him."
The Countess of Cheshire arrived at that moment. She wrapped her cloak around Keely's shoulders and helped her rise.
Duke Robert lifted his future son-in-law to his feet and warned, "Report to the queen in the morning, or I'll brave the Tower by shackling and dragging you to the altar." With that, the duke gestured to the countess and the Welshmen, then followed them out of the room.
"Please, I don't want to marry," Keely pleaded as the countess led her down the corridor to the stairs. She looked back to see Richard following them. Even in the corridor's dim light, his face appeared battered, but his step was spritely.
No limp, registered in Keely's mind. Nothing wrong with his blasted ankle.
A defeated sob escaped Keely. The earl had purposely stolen her virtue in order to force her to the altar. If only her father and her cousins hadn't discovered her in that untenable position, she could have denied losing her innocence. Oh, why had the Mother Goddess forsaken her? Would she ever find happiness or a place where she could belong? Or would she always be an outsider?
"If Devereux doesn't make you happy," Duke Robert promised in a poor attempt to offer comfort, "I'll cut his heart out with a dull blade."
His words brought tears to Keely's eyes. She didn't want a husband who made her unhappy. Nor, for some strange reason, did she want Richard hurt for ruining her life.
"Devereux is richer than the pope," the countess told her, offering her own special brand of comfort as they started down the stairs. "Consider the jewels and the gowns that will be yours."
"I don't want jewels and gowns," Keely sobbed.
"Swallow your tongue," the countess snapped. "What is it you want?"
"I want only love."
The heart-wrenching sound of her sobs drifted to the top of the stairs where Richard stood. He smiled in spite of the pain it caused his swelling face. He wanted the exotic beauty in his bed and a tour of duty in Ireland. The Duke of Ludlow was about to gift him with what he desired.
"Jennings, I need you!" Richard shouted, holding the palms of his hands to his throbbing face.
"Coming, my lord," the majordomo called. "As soon as I lift myself off the floor."
Chapter 7
Autumn wore its most serene expression early the following morning. Clear blue skies kissed the distant horizon, and gentle breezes caressed the land, promising an incomparable day of rare perfection.
Oblivious to the paradise around her, Keely worried her full bottom lip with her teeth as she sat between Duke Robert and Lady Dawn. Their canopied barge wended its way down the Thames River toward Hampton Court, situated twelve miles southwest of London.
Keely would have enjoyed her first excursion on the river, but nervous apprehension blinded her to the idyllic passing scenery. She could hardly believe she was floating down the Thames to meet the English queen and beg permission to wed the conniving earl.
Richard Devereux was the last man in the world Keely would choose for a husband. His handsome face and courtly manner did attract her, but he was too arrogant, too smooth, and much too English for her peace of mind.
Keely would refuse to become trapped in a loveless marriage. She'd already suffered a near loveless childhood. There had to be a way to prevent this fiasco. How could she survive in the land of her enemy if she were married to a man who didn't love her?
"Accompanying you to court is unnecessary," Keely ventured in a small voice, glancing sidelong at her father, "as is marriage with the earl."
"I told you several times, the queen may wish to meet you before agreeing to the union," Duke Robert replied, clearly irritated. "My mind is set. I will debate the point no further."
Oh, why wouldn't he listen to reason? Keely thought, aggravated. She'd always yearned for a father but had never realized how overbearing one could be.
"You absented yourself from my life for eighteen years," Keely reminded him in an accusing voice. "How do you dare drop into it now and order me about?"
"You dropped into his life," Lady Dawn defended the duke. "English children obey their parents."
"I'm Welsh," Keely snapped.
" 'Tis enough," Duke Robert ordered, his voice rising with his annoyance. To Keely, he added, "Your cousins agree with my decision."
"I apologize to both of you," Keely said, hanging her head in shame. "Fear incites me to disrespect and unkindness."
"There's naught to fear," the countess assured her, reaching out to pat her hand.
Duke Robert put an arm around his daughter and drew her protectively close. "Chessy will explain all that a bride needs to know so you needn't be nervous."
"I don't belong here," Keely cried, looking at him through eyes brimming with tears. "Everyone will laugh at me. The earl will grow to hate me. I'm nobody."
"Marrying the Earl of Basildon will gain you instant acceptance," Lady Dawn told her. "Why, the most popular courtiers will be seeking your company."
"Here we are," Duke Robert said as their barge stopped beside the quay.
Keely looked up. On what seemed like acres of manicured lawns stood Hampton Court, with its endless roof-line of
turrets, pinnacles, and chimney stacks. Trees, hedges, and shrubs grew as far as the eye could see.
"This has more the appearance of heaven than an earthly residence," Keely murmured, awed by the spectacular sight.
Duke Robert chuckled. "Old King Henry loved to impress. Hampton Court is his monument to himself." The palace was a beehive of activity. Horses clattered continuously through the courtyard. Tradesmen with carts of foodstuffs, purveyors of finery and jewelry, and noblemen with their families arrived and departed with hope in their eyes or disappointment etched across their faces.
Keely stared in wide-eyed wonder at the perpetual movement swirling around her. Hampton Court was a city unto itself, and its constant motion was dizzying.
"No one lives comfortably here," Duke Robert admitted.
"The nobles come for power," Lady Dawn said.
"Or its illusion," the duke added.
Walking between them, Keely looked from her father to the countess. This is their world, she thought. Megan could never have belonged here. And neither did her daughter.
"People come to court for wealth," the countess told her.
"Or the promise of it," the duke qualified.
"They come for advancement and fame."
"And often leave in disgrace because of the notoriety they achieve."
Entering the palace proper, Duke Robert ushered his ladies through a maze of corridors and long galleries. Servants, dressed in blue livery, carried trays of food. A squadron of grooms, their arms laden with firewood, scurried to deliver their loads to the yeomen who waited to lay fires in the hearths.
As Duke Robert escorted Keely and Lady Dawn through the labyrinth of Hampton Court, highborn men and their ladies called out friendly greetings to them and paused to stare at the young beauty who accompanied the duke and the countess. The courtiers' curiosity about her identity was apparent in their expression.
Fascinated by the noblemen and their ladies, Keely returned their stares. The women wore stiffened farthingales beneath their daringly low-cut gowns, and as many jewels as they could put upon their person. The men wore tight, knee-length breeches and brocaded doublets trimmed with lace and buttoned with jewels. Bright silk stockings, garters fringed with gold spangles, and leather shoes adorned with stylish rosettes accessorized their outfits. Some men even wore earrings and rouged their cheeks.
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