The Intended
Page 32
The candles spread about on various tables only managed to deepen the shadows lurking in the chamber.
Catherine pulled aside the covers as the tall, portly man approached the massive bed. Laying back and curling up coyly, she watched him with slow, lingering eyes as he opened the front of his robe. Though it was difficult, she managed her usual look of awe at what she saw beneath.
Coming to her knees as he beckoned to her, she scooted to the edge of the bed. Raising her hands straight up in the air, she smiled as the king pulled her silk chemise over her head. With great satisfaction, she saw his eyes focus on her breasts. She didn’t wait for him to lick his lips; she reached up and drew his mouth to one nipple.
It was always like this. Always the same, she thought. He pushed her back onto the bed—his mouth still latched to her nipple. She used her knee to rub against his manhood. If only she could find some pleasure in what he did to her. He was hard now, but for how long? Spread beneath him—with her hands, legs, and hips going through the motions of what she knew he liked—she stared at the canopy covering the bed and recalled the scene she had walked in on between that wretched Jaime and the Highlander.
She could almost feel the Scot upon her. She could imagine his passion. Malcolm was now suckling her breasts with a firm mouth, a tantalizing play of tongue and teeth. She let her hands travel the back of her lover’s back. She encircled his waist with her legs.
Henry lifted his great bulk and moved from her breast to her neck, nestling his mouth in the soft place beneath her ear. Catherine knew what would come next, and she was prepared when he entered her, sudden and quick. She moaned her customary response and continued to stare at the canopy above.
She could envision Malcolm’s long, muscular legs, his broad, scarred chest, his hands shaping and squeezing her breasts. She could feel his long, thick shaft driving into her. Again and again, driving so deeply into her.
Catherine imagined her hand to be the Highlander’s as she reached between their bodies. She could feel his strong fingers slide between their bodies, and found herself growing more excited with each thrust. She could feel his fingers stroking the source of all pleasure. He was now breathing heavily in her ear, and his relentless pace was pushing her ever higher. With a bearlike growl, he spilled his seed into her, and her own lusty release was only a moment behind.
But seconds later, the scrape of his boarlike whiskers brought back the truth of it all. It was no Highlander nestled between her legs. Henry Tudor sprawled atop her. Catherine turned her face in disgust.
The great bed creaked as the king rolled off of her and onto his back. His hands crossed comfortably on his heaving chest. “If we thought you missed us this much, Cat, that little visit this evening with your cousin would have been postponed.”
“And how did it go, your little chat?”
“Nothing for you to concern yourself with,” he answered shortly. But then rolling himself with some effort, he laid one beefy hand on her breast. Henry squeezed her erect nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “What a tigress you were a moment ago. I’ve never heard you cry out before.”
Hiding her disappointment about his refusal to discuss Jaime, Catherine plastered a smile on her face. Feeling his thumb rub over her nipple, she turned and gazed into his eyes.
“You are just so magnificent,” she replied, letting her fingers graze the skin of his chest and move down over his distended belly. “Such an exciting lover. You know that the mere thought of you drives me wild. I cannot wait to be married, my lusty bear.”
Henry’s laugh rumbled deep in his chest. “Just remember, Cat, after we are wed, I still can’t spend all of my time between your legs.”
“And why not?” she asked, putting a pout on her face in retort. Raising her knee and laying it over his groin, she rested her head in the palm of her hand. “I know many men who would give their lives to take your place.”
The flash of anger in the king’s face shut Catherine’s mouth in an instant.
“Beware, woman, of such talk,” he snapped, turning and shoving her back onto the pillow. “Don’t forget your place.”
Catherine stared as Henry’s face loomed above her.
“Disgrace yourself, and your head will adorn my chamber wall. Do you understand me, Cat?”
Catherine Howard nodded. There was little room to disagree.
Chapter 42
The soft knock at the chamber door drew both women’s eyes to the oaken entry. With a nod in Caddy’s direction, Jaime swung her legs wearily over the edge of the bed and reached for her robe. She had retired but a moment earlier, and she was desperate for rest in both body and mind.
Glancing back again at the door, she saw Caddy arguing softly with whoever stood beyond. A moment passed while Jaime tried to decide whether it would be quicker going and handling this late visitor herself or letting her serving woman do it. Casting a wistful look at her pillow, she knew what she really wanted was simply to get back into bed and fall asleep. But clearly, whoever was calling on them was not taking rejection easily. With a sigh of resignation, Jaime stood up and started for the door.
Before she had crossed half the distance, she saw the door swing open and Malcolm step in. Behind him, Caddy went out of the chamber, closing the door after her.
Her weariness evaporated into the night air as she dashed into his arms. Malcolm held her tight against him, kissing her face, grazing her lips with his own before lifting her into his arms and taking her back to her bed. Without a word, he deposited her gently into the middle and began to pull the bedclothes over her. She fought off the covers.
“You should not have left your bed,” he scolded. “Now stay put and stop fighting me.”
“Nay, bully. You will need to get in here with me and hold me in place,” Jaime whispered with a smile.
“I cannot, lass. I came in here to talk...”
The words were lost on his lips as she slowly undid the belt that held her robe in place. Tossing the outer garment to the side, she smiled at the flash of desire glinting in his eyes. Though her shift was cotton and certainly modest, his eyes surveyed her as if she wore nothing at all. She lay back on the bed and opened her arms.
“You are a witch,” he whispered hoarsely, shaking his head and reaching once again to pull the covers over her. Once the thick blanket separated her body from his, he leaned into her embrace and kissed her with a thoroughness that left her breathless.
When he pulled away, Jaime sighed happily.
“Jaime, my love, we’ve had a sudden change of plans,” Malcolm said seriously, holding her face in his hands.
“You are not going without me!” she said, panicky and unable to keep the note of fear out of her voice. “You have to take me with you, Malcolm. You have to. I am well enough to travel...”
“I will never take a step without you, lass.” Malcolm leaned down and kissed her lips again. This time, as he tried to pull away, she held him tightly and thoroughly kissed him back.
This time he sighed as she broke off the kiss.
“Tell me about this change of plan,” she whispered.
It took Malcolm a moment to gather his thoughts. But then his eyes once again focused on her face. “We had originally planned to leave on Midsummer’s Eve.”
“Aye, Caddy tells me that even though the celebration is three days off, the folk are already gathering from miles around. It may offer a good diversion for our escape.”
“True, but we won’t be waiting till then.”
“Oh?” she said, her voice rising with excitement.
Malcolm smiled as he let his fingers linger caressingly over the soft skin of her face. “Aye. Evan sent word to me tonight.”
“Evan?” she asked in amazement. “That good man is helping us with our escape?”
“He is.” Malcolm nodded. “Well, our ship came in two nights ago, and they’re coming back in tomorrow night, so we are leaving earlier than planned.”
Jaime thrilled at the thou
ght of leaving. “So it is real. We are going home.”
“Aye, lass, we are. Tomorrow morning at first light,” Malcolm answered. “Surrey told me today that the king is planning to ride back to Nonsuch Palace after breakfast. So if we leave at dawn, it could be hours before anyone even notices—with all the commotion surrounding the king’s departure.”
Jaime couldn’t hold back her excitement as she threw her arms about his neck and held him tight. “I’ll put on my clothes and be ready in an instant.”
“Nay, my love.” He placed a kiss on her lips before pushing her back on the pillow. “I want you to get as much rest as you can in the next few hours. I’ll come after you before dawn.”
Jaime paused, a troubled look creeping into her eyes. “Malcolm, I’d like to bring...”
“I am sorry, my sweet. But I’m afraid you will have to leave all your things behind.”
“Nay!” She shook her head with a slight smile. “I meant Caddy. I don’t know how I could leave her.”
Malcolm’s brow knotted for a moment as he gave the matter some thought. “Does she know anything about it?”
Jaime shook her head. “Nay, Malcolm. I haven’t told her.”
“We’ll take her,” Malcolm said matter-of-factly. “We’ll just have to steal an extra horse.”
Jaime brightened again as she ran her fingers through his hair. “There is no need. I could ride on your lap. Remember how you used to take me for rides when I was but a wee thing?”
“You were a child, then, Jaime, but you are a woman, now,” he whispered, resting his brow against hers, smiling into her eyes. “With you sitting on my lap, I fear we’d lose Caddy in no time. In fact, I do not know that we’d ever reach Harwich in a day.”
She coiled her arms tighter about his neck and drew him down onto her. “If you were to get in this bed with me now, perhaps tomorrow you’d have an easier time with me riding in your lap.”
“You think so?” he teased, using his tongue to trace the line of her lips.
Jaime nodded as the soft knock came at the door. They both stiffened.
“‘Tis only Caddy.” He said it like a curse. “On second thought, I think we’ll not be taking her with us.”
Jaime smiled. “Has she been standing guard outside the door?”
“She wanted to stand guard inside, to keep...”
“You from kissing me?” she finished, lifting her face and grazing his lips with her own. “Or perhaps touching me?” She let her hands move over the sinewy musculature of his back. “Or was she afraid of you making love to me?” She lay back and looked at him suggestively.
The Highlander swallowed once. “I believe she was more worried about me than you. I mean, she knows how vulnerable I am, and how demanding you can be.”
She hit him squarely on the chest. “You are a rogue, Malcolm MacLeod.”
“Aye, but I am your rogue, my love. Yours alone.”
The second knock at the door separated the two. After giving her a lingering kiss on the lips, Malcolm stood to leave.
“Until dawn?” she asked.
“Until then, my love.”
Damn Henry, she cursed. No man would tell her what to do. Catherine repeated his words in her mind as she made her way up the stairs. Well, say what he will, she would do as she pleased, and she would accept no master.
And damn Edward, as well, she muttered as she reached the top floor of the palace. If he hadn’t been so cruel, she thought, if he had treated her better, then it would be his bed she’d be going to. Damn him.
Damn them all.
Malcolm sensed her presence as soon as he closed his chamber door.
As he stepped into the room, he felt the anger rise in his chest. The cast-off cloak, thrown carelessly to the floor, told him that his instincts were correct. Catherine was here.
Glancing in the direction of his curtained bed, he saw a candle flickering dimly on a side table, but the woman wasn’t there. Turning his head, though, he quickly found Catherine, sitting quietly in a chair by the window. Her golden brown tresses cascaded over her shoulders...and whatever it was she had wrapped herself in.
“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to return,” she cooed. As she spoke, Catherine stood up slowly, allowing the blanket that she was holding to drop in a pool at her feet. The skin of her naked body glowed in the candlelight. “But then, I knew it would only be a matter of time before you got tired of that silly wench.”
Malcolm remained where he stood, though every impulse in his being cried out to cross the room and break her neck.
“You can’t resist me, and you know it.” She smiled, raising her hands to her breasts, lifting them enticingly. “I have watched you, taking these in with your eyes. Now they are yours...as is the rest.” Catherine swept her hand invitingly downward, caressing her own skin as she did.
Malcolm was not even close to falling prey to Catherine’s charms. He continued to struggle against the violence he felt toward the woman, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“Come to me, Highlander,” she purred, walking slowly toward him. “I was here, you know. I watched you with her. I know what you are capable of. Aye, I saw the way you drove into her, again and again. But she can’t satisfy a man like you, can she? That’s why you’ve come back from her chamber now. You need more of a woman than Jaime is, to see to your pleasure. You need me.”
Catherine’s hand came up and touched his shirt, sliding lower over his hard belly. He caught her wrist with a force that made her cry out in pain.
“You animal,” she laughed, twisting her wrist free. “I am only glad to help you get ready.”
“Leave, woman.” Malcolm’s eyes blazed as they looked piercingly into Catherine’s. “Leave now.”
She laughed heartily as she shook her head. Placing both her hands on his chest, she gazed up to his face. “I won’t, you see. Not until you’ve repaid the debt you owe me.”
“What debt? I owe you nothing.”
“But you do,” she whispered, once again tracing with her fingers the lines of his stomach. He caught her wrists again, with even more force than before, and pushed her away. She laughed once more. “That night when I found you fucking that wretched Jaime, while I, Catherine Howard, stood there in the corner—naked and ready to come to you, myself—that was the moment when you both incurred your debts to me.”
“You are sick, woman,” Malcolm answered through clenched teeth.
“Nay, foolish man. I made her sick,” she answered. “That was how she has begun to pay. By making her sick, by giving her more than she needed—more, anyway, than that doting old physician intended—I began to collect on her debt. But only began, for I am not yet done with her. She has more to pay yet, much more. But from you, I need...”
With a movement like lightning, Malcolm grasped her hair with one hand and jerked Catherine’s head back. Her eyes flashing with anticipation, she looked up at him, and her lips parted with a knowing smirk.
“Listen carefully,” he growled into her face. “You can take your whore’s tricks elsewhere. They will get you naught, here. And I will tell you something else. You speak of paying debts? This dangerous game you are playing has a price, as well. That price is your life! And I am not speaking of your future husband’s fondness for replacing wives.” Malcolm jerked her head back again, this time making Catherine cry out in pain. “If you even try to get close to Jaime, if you harm her in any way, I will strangle you with my bare hands.”
“You wouldn’t dare to hurt me,” she scoffed haughtily.
Malcolm stared at her for a moment. Then, with a growl, he dragged her to the window with such violence that she lost her footing. Shoving the windows open wide, he pushed her naked body half out of the opening, holding her only by one arm and her hair. Her white skin looked almost blue in the light of the moon, and her other arm flailed about in the empty air.
“I am a Highlander, remember?” he rasped. “No more than a filthy barbarian.”
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The woman’s eyes widened in fear as she gaped at the paving stones far below.
“Use your imagination, wench.” Malcolm shoved her out a bit further. “Your twisted body mashed on the stones there. Can you not see them, the guards all passing by and smirking at your naked limbs? Can you not hear them, telling stories about who’d slept with you the most. And all of them claiming they’d only done it out of pity.” He shook her, loosening his hold on her arm.
“Don’t drop me!” she cried out aloud, waving her hands desperately in the air. “PLEASE!”
“Why not? Why should I let you live?” He pushed her out still further. She hung now with her feet barely touching the edge of the window casing. “After all you’ve done, ‘tis you who must pay the debt, Catherine.”
“I swear. I swear,” she wept. “I’ll never have anything to do with you, nor with Jaime. Don’t let me fall.”
Malcolm again shook her, eliciting sobs from her, as it appeared he clearly meant to let her drop.
“Please!” she choked. “I’ll do anything you want.”
His movement was abrupt as he pulled her with one swift motion back through the window. But her feet hardly had a chance to touch the floor, for Malcolm dragged her quickly across the chamber.
“Aye,” he spat. “You will.” Jerking open the chamber door, the Highlander threw her, naked and weeping, into the corridor.
Catherine crouched, stunned at the rapid turn of events, and gaped at him.
“You will stay out of my life,” Malcolm ordered, shutting the door and leaving her in the darkness of the deserted hallway.
Catherine grimaced as the heavy door closed tightly in her face. Looking up and down the hall, she quickly rose to her feet and ran to the deeper shadows of a nearby alcove.
“Pig! Animal!” She cursed Malcolm under her breath as she ran a hand through her wild tresses, causing her golden hair to fan out over her bare breasts. He wasn’t worth her spit. And that slut Jaime. Let him have her for all she cared. After all, it was Edward whom she wanted to keep from marrying the bitch. She was finished with them both.