‘My sweet Kate, come to me my darling, open your mouth for me, let me touch, let me taste, oh my lovely lovely Kate.’
She threw back her head arching instinctively as his mouth feasted on her, first one nipple then the other, so mindless now with need that the intrusion of his hand between her thighs and the gentle exploration of his fingers was simply a natural path to something she knew she needed.
Alex pushed two fingers inside her, rejoicing in the moist heat he found there, but through the red lust of this discovery the reality of how small and tight she was hit him. If she was still intact even the greatest care would not ensure he could take her without pain, though with luck her penchant for riding astride might have removed that barrier. He pushed his hand deeper, seeking confirmation, what he found however was that evidence that most men would demand of a bride’s innocence. For a moment he considered stopping, but her cries and whimpers and the heady scent of her aroused state overwhelmed all thoughts of chivalry and Alex gave himself up to the moment.
Catherine felt his hand between her thighs, felt his fingers push tentatively inside her body and for a brief moment it seemed to be what her heated need was searching for, but it was not enough, not even when he pushed deeper and she felt something reciprocate low in her belly. He seemed to hesitate, then came back with the full force of his lovemaking. Touching, caressing, kisses of fire and suckling deep as his fingers sought that tiny bud she hardly knew existed. Slowly she knew that what she sought was nearing, that all she had to do was get closer to him and she would find it, so she reached for him, running her hands down his chest and instinctively clasping his throbbing maleness in a heated grasp. The effect was cataclysmic, eliciting a groan of pure lust from him as he pushed her thighs wide apart and raised her knees, tilting her pelvis to accommodate him. With an impatient hand he gripped her wrists pulling her away from him lest his control fail and just as the waves of what surely must be her first pleasure dragged incredulous cries from her swollen lips he thrust deep into her. With a superhuman effort he stilled then, assessing the effect of his rough possession, she’d cried out and bucked under him but one look at her flushed and rapturous face reassured him and he began to move within her driving them both to heaven.
It was some time before Alex could speak, he just lay holding her, letting the feeling of complete satiation dominate. It was not until she stirred in his arms turning to nestle closer that he found his voice.
‘Well, well what a pretty little wanton I find in my bed.’
His drawled words were accompanied by soft kisses to the temple but Catherine was horrified by his choice of words. Was that what she was? Mama had always warned her that there was no worse thing a lady could become than wanton. She’d not fully understood what it meant but somehow knew it was abhorrent, shameful. She pulled out of his grasp, horror showing on her face.
‘No, you cannot mean to accuse me so! But I did behave.. Oh Mama was right there can be no hope for me can there?’
Not for the first time Alex cursed the obviously narrow-minded, unhealthy edicts of his mother-in-law. he would never cease to be amazed at the striking difference between contrasting moral codes of country society and the fashionable London society known as ‘the Ton’.
‘Hush, no my sweet Kate, I use the word in jest, I promise you there can be nothing wrong in the eyes of God or of men with a wife who welcomes her husband to her bed with such alacrity. You are a delight my sweet little wife, let me show you again, just how sweet you are.’
Then he quietened her with his kisses until she responded once more.
Chapter 4
Catherine would one day look back on the weeks that followed with longing. Her days were bright and happy as a bride’s should be and her nights, spent in his arms seemed too short. She wrote to Dorothea of her happiness.
Dearest Sister, ...how long it seems since you sat sewing silk for my trousseau while I wept. I think back now and can scarcely credit my childish resistance to my marriage, it seems so natural now to be here, a wife, wedded to my Alex. Each day he shows me how his regard for me grows, each day I find my regard for him increases. Did I ever find him overbearing? How can that be when he is all kindness and compassion? Oh he does not show it easily, preferring in company to seem aloof and even cold, but when we are alone together he is so very different. I could not have a more generous husband, I am showered with gifts and made to feel like a treasure beyond compare. My only regret is that he must be away from home quite often, attending to matters to do with his other estates and holdings. He spends some time each week in the city of Cardiff and I believe even has property in Northern Italy. (Well maybe not my only regret as he forbids me to ride and I miss that).
Though I miss him during these absences, I do have more than enough to keep me occupied as I now have a whole castle to run with all that entails. I cannot tell you sister how much work there is to do to bring this old house into something resembling the light and airy home I have left behind me. Alex is determined though that I am not to tax myself too much and we are restricting the renovations to those rooms we use daily that form the western side of the house. The rest is to be left as it is for the time being, most is I understand used for storage and some of it is even under lock and key.
Though I am growing to love my new home, at first the prospect of making this my home was a daunting one and even frightening in many ways. It is an old house, and the fact that it is known locally as a castle will tell you something of the scale of it, though you will need to visit us to fully appreciate its dark and gothic nature. Set as it is, close against the mountain I must admit first impressions of it must be of gloom and shadow and I was at first nervous upon hearing a cacophony of sounds, moans, creaks, cries in the night, but surely this is what one can expect in such a house as this.
Do not be alarmed sister dear by the dismal picture I paint of my new home, it is not all bad. The parkland that surrounds us is green and lush and the gardens extensive and well appointed. We have our own chapel, a lake and even an orangery. When you visit I will take such pleasure in showing you these treasures.
I am determined and Alex agrees, that once the western wing is to my liking we will be able to entertain and will employ more staff to that end. I look forward to welcoming you and dear Charles to Wales, though I must confess the weather is less convivial here than in Sussex or even Bath I am sure. Do you think Mama and dearest Papa might be prevailed upon to undertake the journey too? I miss them both and would even welcome Mama’s scolding, though she would now find me such a model of wifely virtue that she might be hard pushed to find reason to scold.
I am a so concerned that we parted on such bad terms, and though I have written to Papa to assuage his concerns regarding my opposition to my marriage and the change of heart I have discovered, he has not as yet answered my letters. I do hope to hear from him soon and will, once I have finished this letter to you dear Dorothea, put pen to paper and send Mama such a letter as will make her see that at last she has two daughters happily and advantageously wed.
I will take my leave of you now sister dearest, and with sweet anticipation will wait to hear from you in answer. With all my love, Kate.
Then sealing the note Catherine sat up and rang the bell.
‘You rang milady?’
‘Yes Evans, will you see that this letter is sent immediately please? And can you tell cook that I will see her now, with his lordship due back later today I wish to be certain everything is perfect.’
‘Very good milady.’
Catherine sighed as she watched the old butler leave, her letter on the silver tray in his gnarled old hand. He would never like her, of that she was certain, but Alex refused to retire him and find a younger replacement.
‘No my dear, it will not do to put the old chap out to grass just yet.’ He’d been adamant. ‘I’m happy to engage the new staff you require to run the house as you see fit, but Evans has been here since he was a boy and is loyal to me an
d to the house.’
Catherine had known by his tone not to argue further. It was the same tone he’d used when she’d argued that she wished to ride, and he’d been implacable then too. She would be provided with a mount of his choosing when he was ready and not before and to argue the point was simply proof that she was not yet fully appreciative of her position as his wife and unable to give him the obedience that was his due. She sighed at the recollection, it was undoubtedly her own fault, for it was surely her love of riding that had brought about most of her earlier adventures that were so frowned upon. Alex had insisted that the reason for his edict was that he had not the time to accompany her and that as this was a place where vagabonds and even smugglers roamed it was not safe or appropriate for a lady to ride alone.
This evening might be a good time to try to make him see she was determined to be a good and obedient wife. There was to be a horse sale in the town nearby within the month, she’d overheard the servants discussing it, she determined to ask Alex if he would take her there. With luck it just might prompt him to think of purchasing a suitable mount for her. In the meantime she would continue her walks in the garden that were her panacea, she spent some time every day there, using the paths and steps of the extensive shrubberies to work off her mounting frustration and energy.
A knock at the door heralded the arrival of Mrs. Morgan the cook, interrupting her train of thoughts.
‘Do come in cook, be seated and we will examine the menu for this evening. His lordship will be returning this afternoon and you know how he will be looking forward to celebrating his return with his favourite dishes.’
‘Oh indeed milady and I think we have just the menu here to please. I thought we could begin with a consommé of beef, then for the fish, turbot in a sauce of wine and shallots. Then I thought I would do my own recipe for lamb roasted with rosemary and lemons, we are so lucky to have our own lemons. And to finish, his lordship likes some nice cheeses, his taste doesn’t run to sweet as you know milady.’
‘As always I know I can rely on you Mrs. Morgan to find just the right menu to please, but can I just ask if you would include that syllabub of strawberries I enjoyed so much? I do have a sweet tooth I’m afraid.’
‘Yes indeed milady, the fruit is just coming into its own now, I will see to it.’
‘Well that will be all I think, can you ask Evans to chose the wine, I’m sure he’ll do a better job of it than me. And inform him too that I’m intending to take my walk now.’
‘Very good milady, you wrap up warm now, it may be summer but it’s damp outside today and looks like the rain will be upon us before the end of the day.’
As Mrs. Morgan left, Catherine made her way up to her chamber, donned a light coat and bonnet to keep out the impending rain and headed out of the house with a sigh of relief. It was tiring work running such a house, and it was complicated at the moment by the extra work she was having done and by Alex’ regular absences. She was determined to make a home more to her own taste and that meant removing the dreary old furniture, the dark heavy old carpets and drapes and replacing them with items in the modern style. Alex was all indulgence, and deferred to her in most of these changes though Evans didn’t approve she knew, preferring to keep the old house as it was. She also knew he was storing everything she had removed, somewhere in the unused part of the house she assumed. Well it would be some time before she would be turning her attention to more than the western wing of the house, so no matter.
It was indeed a dreary day, so Catherine decided to take the path though the gardens around the orangery, the trees were more open there, letting in more light. Rounding the side of the house she stood for a moment admiring the view, which even on this dismal day was of a well planted and tended garden. The terrace opened above a wide sweep of steps, which led the eye to the path through the shrubbery. Wide and curving, the flight was bound by a low wall and on the left hand side against each step was a little brass ornament in the shape of an insect. A cricket, a fly, a spider and many more, at the bottom was a dear little beetle, the only one she liked, the rest were a little disturbing. In today’s gloom they seemed to glow eerily, and Catherine moved on with a shudder. It was no better along the path, the day seemed to darken as she made her way through the trees, and past the ruin of the old chapel. She would see to getting that removed, what was the use of keeping it when the new church stood within the grounds? Not that the servants used that, preferring to worship still in the tiny chapel perched half way up the steep mountainside. Hardly visible from the gardens, she knew there was a stepped path to it somewhere from the back of the shrubbery, though how Evans with his rheumatism made his way up such a steep climb she couldn’t imagine.
Upon reaching the orangery she made for the eastern entrance, it would be pleasant to wander inside the elegant building for a while, cheating the fine drizzling rain that was beginning to fall. Inside she felt he spirits lift as she made her way through the long narrow building. Its classical architecture and the pleasant citrus perfume, such a contrast to the dismal day outside. Oranges, lemons, even limes, though the trees in their classical urns bore fruit now, they were still small and green, and would not be ready to pick until late autumn. Their perfume was delightful and Catherine breathed the heavenly scent, it invigorated her lifting her spirits so that by the time she left the building by the western entrance her mood was much improved.
“What a ninny I am to let a drop of mist and rain dull my spirits. Alex will be home today, and maybe a letter will come from Papa. He must write soon with his forgiveness for my silly notions and opposition to marriage, he can never stay angry with me for long.”
It was raining heavily now so she set off back towards the house by the shortest path through the darkening shrubbery. Clasping her bonnet with one hand and leaning forward almost battling the weather now she kept her eyes on the path for fear of tripping. If not for that she thought afterwards, she would have missed it, missed the tiny shoe of softest leather, soaked but intact even to the velvet ribbon that decorated it. Catherine stopped in her tracks and picked the object up, bemused for a moment, who could have lost it, there were no children in the house. None of the servants had as far as she knew, brought a child to the house. Looking at the tiny item it was expensive, soft leather, rich ribbon, no servant had lost this, though the nanny in charge of the child must surely have missed it. Tucking it into a pocket she hurried home, she would ask Evans to find out, he would make enquiries and the owner of the shoe would be found so it could be returned.
On reaching the house she found it all in turmoil, Alex was returned early and Catherine in her haste to be with him after more than two days separation forgot the little shoe in the pocket of her coat.
‘Where is his lordship Evans?’
Catherine pulled the bonnet from her head as she spoke and shrugged the coat off in haste, a maid who was nearby picked the discarded items up, preparing to take them to be dried, ready for her mistresses next foray into the garden. She’d never met anyone who could waste a whole morning wandering in among the trees and bushes, like the mistress.
‘The master is in the drawing room milady, he asked after you with some impatience upon arriving home.’
She didn’t miss the note of censure in the old man’s voice but choosing to ignore it made her way with a light heart to find Alex.
She had barely opened the drawing room door, entering with haste needing to be with Alex, full of joy at his return, when a stifled cry stopped her in her tracks.
Catherine turned at the sound in time to see Evans usher an ashen faced maid below stairs, the wet coat and bonnet in one hand and the little blue shoe clutched in the other. But before she could ask what was amiss the girl was gone leaving Evans to assure his mistress that there was nothing to worry about.
‘Just a silly notion the girl has got into her head milady, nothing for you to be bothered with.’
‘Oh very well Evans, if you’re sure.’
Kat
e turned to resume her way into the drawing room, but through the happiness she felt at her husband’s return something prickled in the recesses of her mind, some indefinable shadow.
Chapter 5
Alex turned at the sound of her voice and Kate could see how tired he was. His dear face was leaner than when last she saw him, and darkened by the day’s stubble he had a at first glance a grim countenance. Then he caught sight of her smile and returned it, at once her own Alex was before her and she hurried into his arms. Grey eyes raked her upturned face before he lowered his head and kissed her, drinking like a man with an unquenchable thirst.
‘Oh I’ve missed these sweet kisses my lady.’
‘Well then why chose to stay away so long and so often sir? Surely there is someone else you could send.’
‘Soon Kate, I’ll send someone else once I’m sure everything is as it should be. Now come, sit and tell me what has been occupying your time while I’ve been away.’
An hour later Kate left her husband talking business to his steward as she hurried to change for dinner, having brought him up to date with the events of the last week.
Anwen was already laying out her gown for dinner, a pretty lilac muslin she was rather fond of, trimmed with deep violet ribbons that matched her eyes. Alex liked this dress too, she knew by the way his eyes deepened to the colour of slate and turned her legs to jelly by their intensity when she wore it. Something tingled deep in her belly at that thought, and she longed for the evening to be over.
“Oh can this be right, I can hardly wait to be in his bed, touching him, kissing him, having him kiss and touch me, Mama would say I’m beyond redemption, a wanton.”
‘Oh milady, don’t fret, Sally is a silly girl and pays too much attention to servants gossip and other nonsense.’
Catherine realized that Anwen had completely misread her worried look, and was afraid the incident with the maid had worried her. Though in fact she’d been so engrossed in having Alex to herself for a while she’d not given it another thought. But there must have been more said in the servant’s hall for Anwen still to be thinking of it.
Vengeful Lord, Defiant Lady. Page 6