The Black Madonna (Roundheads & Cavaliers Book 1)

by Stella Riley

  Releasing her mouth and breathing rather hard, Luciano moved away a little and smiled into her eyes while he tried to reassemble his self-control. Then he loosed the ribbons of her shift until is slithered slowly from her shoulders to lie in a pool at her feet.

  The air evaporated in his lungs.

  Under the moon, her skin glowed translucent as pearl and every inch of her was in perfect, delicate proportion. Luciano looked at her; from the untrammelled copper hair and luminous green eyes to the arches of her slender feet. And finally, he drew a long, stricken breath and said simply, ‘Caterina, tesoro mio … sono abbagliato. I am dazzled.’

  ‘And I,’ replied Kate unevenly, reaching out to him, ‘am alone.’

  He merely smiled and, spreading his hands in a gesture of surrender, stood quite still while she finally unlaced his shirt. Then, when she had done, he pulled it over his head and swiftly shed the rest of his clothing.

  ‘Oh,’ she said helplessly, flames dancing through the pit of her stomach as she gazed at him. His body was one of lean grace, its muscles well-defined and the slight malformation of his left shoulder of no consequence whatsoever. He was beautiful.

  The cobalt eyes had grown suddenly intent and, reaching for her hand, he placed a kiss that was half-humble, half-enticing in her palm. For a moment, he remained quite still. Then, lacing her fingers with his own, he drew her slowly into his arms. Skin met skin and Kate gasped, electrified from head to foot; and when his mouth once more found hers, the world swung on its axis.

  Down on to the scented grass that was to be their bed … down, down into an endless vortex of pleasure. Lightly and without any sign of haste, Luciano traced the lines and curves of her arms and shoulders, waist and hip, treasuring each quiver of response and the sudden arching of her spine when his fingers slid back to her breasts; and Kate, her bones melting and her senses flaring beneath his touch, embarked on her own voyage of discovery as the muscles of his chest, the flat plane of his back and the texture of his skin imprinted themselves on her light, questing fingers.

  ‘Carissima, Caterina … ti desidero.’ His voice coiled round her as potently seductive as his body. ‘Io sono tuo. Sempre.’

  His mouth followed his hands. Wild sensations ripped through her and she moaned, her fingers clutching desperately at his shoulders. Lifting his head and forsaking his native language for a moment, Luciano said softly, ‘Gently now, darling.’

  She looked up at him, her eyes wide and dark.

  He stroked a strand of hair back from her face, his smile giving no hint of the turmoil going on in his own body or his fierce battle to subdue it.‘Trust me.’ And switching smoothly to Italian, murmured, ‘I have loved you for a very long time and more than you can imagine. So this has to be perfect.’

  His hand travelled along the silk of her thigh and, between kisses, his voice continued to caress her. Shaken by pulses and her breathing utterly disrupted, Kate’s fingers tangled in his hair. There was no room for thought. Nothing existed but Luciano and the crescendo of wanting he was creating inside her … and the promise of something more; something that was very nearly within her grasp.

  The warm summer night closed around them, bathing them in its faint music.

  Slowly, lazily, Luciano’s fingers drifted on, setting her skin on fire until, in the depths of a long, languorous kiss, they found the most sensitive and intimate place of all. Kate arched against his hand, sobbing his name. Very, very slowly, he deepened the caress and the sensations inside her changed and intensified. Her hands raced over his back and she stifled her cries against his shoulder. Luciano eased back a little, no longer confident in his own self-control but determined to lead her flawlessly through the labyrinth to the delight that was at its core. And only when he was sure beyond every possible doubt that her hunger matched his own, did he move over her and say simply, ‘Mi dispiace, Caterina.’

  She shook her head and pulled him towards her, feeling him press against her. Every fibre of her being demanded that he fill the aching void inside her. And slowly, with infinite care, he did so.

  Her desire was so great that the moment of burning discomfort barely disturbed her haze of pleasure. The green eyes rested on him with surprise slowly turning to wonder and she said, ‘Luciano … I love you so much.’

  ‘Caterina … luce della mia vita,’ came the whispered reply.

  Amber and gold, flame and silk, poetry and counterpoint; time frozen in a crystal. And then the magic was in them and of them and around them … and the garden exploded, taking them with it.

  It was a long time before Luciano stirred and, propping himself on one elbow, looked down on Kate’s face. Her breathing was still light and rapid and her lashes lay motionless on her cheeks, but there was no doubt that she was smiling. Then her eyes opened full on his … and he knew. The course which, in his madness, he had thought he could follow was not possible and never had been. Because she was who she was – because of what had just passed between them – he could not simply rise up and go, leaving them both with this one jewelled memory. It was too late.

  Reality returned with a vengeance. The only fitting end to this interlude was to do what he wanted … and what Richard had wanted. But now, more than ever, that was to place her in jeopardy. His self-imposed mission of revenge had already killed Richard – as yet he dared not contemplate how directly; and, after being careful for so long, he was not about to expose Caterina to similar danger. Therefore he had to obey the same constraints as before, only with different methods.

  Kate smiled up at him and then nestled closer, her face buried against his chest. She said softly, ‘Master of every art. I might have known.’

  ‘Quite. But there was also,’ he replied, responding to the faint note of laughter, ‘some natural talent involved. On both sides.’

  Her body was still bathed in delicious languor and his hand was once more moving lightly over her hip, but she managed to take up her cue with creditable pertness.

  ‘A compliment after all these years? I can’t believe it.’

  ‘You can’t have been attending either – if you think that’s the first,’ he retorted. And felt rather than heard the tiny gurgle that rippled through her.

  Her fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest, she said, ‘Those things you said earlier, in Italian? What did they mean?’

  ‘This and that. I don’t recall exactly – though I believe I may have called you beautiful at some point,’ replied Luciano evasively. ‘I thought Giacomo had been giving you instruction.’

  ‘He did. But he didn’t cover the phrases you used.’

  ‘A fact for which he may be duly grateful.’

  Kate fell silent again. After a time, her voice muffled against his shoulder, she said diffidently, ‘I know I probably shouldn’t ask … but is it always like that?’

  ‘No.’ Warning bells rang in his head and he thought, And that’s enough of that. Stop her before she has you admitting that, in all the vast experience she thinks you’ve got, it’s never been like that. Or even come close. He said carefully, ‘Caterina … it will be dawn soon and you need to get back to your room before the house begins to stir. But first, if you can bear it, we should talk. And I suspect we’ll do it more successfully with some clothes on.’

  She sighed and twined her arms about his neck.

  ‘Oh. Must we?’

  ‘Yes.’ Unable to resist the lure, he held her close for one last, lingering kiss and then, gently disengaging himself, reached out and handed her her shift. ‘Put it on. Or how do you expect me to concentrate? And this is important.’

  Something in his tone permeated Kate’s lassitude and, reluctantly, she sat up. Pulling the shift over her head and wriggling back into her petticoats, she slid back into her stays but left them undone. Then she waited quietly while Luciano threw on his own clothes with rather more haste than care.

  His shirt still unfastened and his face slightly grim, he dropped down beside her again and started loosely re-lacin
g her corset. Then, keeping his eyes on his hands, he said abruptly, ‘Have you realised yet that you and I have just done something almost monumentally stupid?’

  Her breath caught and the last of her languor promptly evaporated.

  ‘You wish we hadn’t?’

  ‘No. I haven’t that much sense. But you might.’

  ‘Don’t worry.’ Relaxing again, Kate smiled at him. ‘You’re wondering how to take your leave – and if I’ll let you go without a struggle. But you’ve no need to concern yourself. It … it was just this one night. I understand that. It was all I asked for and all you were offering. You made that perfectly clear.’

  ‘And you didn’t pray to be saved from the lunatic?’

  ‘Should I have done?’

  ‘Yes. Oh yes.’ He gave the merest ghost of a laugh as he tied her laces into a neat bow and sat back. Then, sternly repressing the impulse to touch her, he said austerely, ‘It won’t do, Caterina. And if you were less remarkable than you are, you would know it.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement. ‘I’m sorry – but I haven’t the remotest idea what you’re getting at.’

  ‘Then let me put it plainly.’ His fingers gripped each other hard around his upraised knee and he drew a long, steadying breath. ‘I am not looking for a gracious exit line because there can be no such thing. Quite simply, the notion that this night could somehow exist in beautiful isolation was insane … but there is a way to mend it. I want you to marry me.’

  It was the very last thing Kate had expected to hear him say and sheer incredulity slammed through her. For a long, airless minute, she was completely incapable of speech; then she said, ‘I think you had better tell me why.’

  ‘Isn’t it obvious? For one thing, there may be a child.’

  ‘And then again, there may not. What else?’

  ‘I’m not in the habit of seducing virgins.’

  ‘And you didn’t seduce this one.’ Some very peculiar sensations were taking place behind her ribs but she managed to say calmly, ‘In case you’ve forgotten, it was I who came out here to you. And I didn’t do it in order to put a chain round your neck.’

  ‘I know that. But --’

  ‘Then you’ll also know that I’d be happy to marry you if it was for the right reasons – but not otherwise.’ She paused and met his eyes with wry candour. ‘You gave me tonight when I needed it most, Luciano – and I’m not about to let you sacrifice yourself because of it. There’s no need … and, if I did, you’d hate me for it one day.’

  Luciano could feel the ground being cut rapidly from beneath his feet and was, for once, powerless to stop it. He could remark that while she was refusing to sacrifice him, she was forcing him to sacrifice her – but that wouldn’t help. Or he could tell her the simple truth; that there was no question of sacrifice between them because she was his soul, his life-blood, the other half of him. But that would create more problems than it cured; for once she knew that, there would be no way in which he could relegate her to the safe edges of his life while he sorted out the mess he had made of it. So, at length, he opened his mouth on the one thing he could think of that might possibly work and said, ‘Since you’re so busy setting me free, martyrdom hardly comes into it, does it? However. If you want a reason for marrying me, I suppose I’d better give you one.’

  She said nothing but merely eyed him warily and waited for him to continue. And finally he said crisply, ‘The idea is not new, Caterina – and neither is it a bad one. In short, though I doubt if he’d be happy with the way it has come about, it’s what your father hoped for.’

  Kate discovered that she felt slightly faint. She said feebly, ‘He – he said so to you?’

  ‘Yes. A long time ago when you were loosely tied to Mr Clifford. You know how little Richard liked the situation – and that was one of the reasons I felt I had to end it; but what you may not know is that, rightly or wrongly, he also considered me a … a suitable replacement.’ He paused, watching her carefully. ‘Of course, I can’t prove it.’

  Kate’s mind slid back to an afternoon ride almost two years ago.

  You might find my views on a suitable match something of a revelation, Father had said.

  Shivering a little, she said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘What?’ he asked, mildly taken aback.

  ‘I – I think I can believe that Father may have suggested such a thing – but it’s obvious you didn’t agree or something would have been said before now. So how did you answer him?’

  ‘I told him more or less the same thing I told you last March; that my personal circumstances make marriage impossible.’

  ‘And that’s changed in the last four months?’

  ‘Not very much. I’m fairly confident that I’ll be able to repay my uncle when the time comes. But the rest of my life is no less chaotic - though I’m trying to mend that.’ He stopped and, taking her hand, laced her fingers with his own. ‘The timing is still far from ideal. So I’m offering you – if not a marriage – at least a marriage-ring. It’s not much, I know. But if you will be patient and can bring yourself to bear with me, I hope to do better in time.’

  Kate could feel herself trembling. She wanted to ask him if he loved her but she’d promised not to make him say it. And so, instead, she said remotely, ‘I think, in fairness, you must tell me one other thing. Would you be offering me anything at all if we hadn’t made love just now?’

  ‘Eventually – but not yet.’ Releasing her hand, Luciano stood up. ‘Cuore mio, it’s getting light and we’ve argued enough. Will you marry me or not?’

  Her vision blurred. It sounded like an endearment. Why wouldn’t he say it in English? She said helplessly ‘I don’t know! I want to say yes, but --’

  ‘Then you will.’ His voice altering subtly, he ruthlessly employed his last weapon. ‘Caterina … if you say no, I can’t come here again. Surely you can see that? What happened tonight can’t be repeated – and neither can it simply be forgotten. Things have changed between us. And we must either adapt or part.’

  For a long time, Kate merely stared back at him out of wide, stark eyes. Then, with a small crooked smile, she said wryly, ‘And that, of course, is the one argument I can’t fight. I’d willingly settle for half a loaf because I never expected any more … but I can’t afford to lose you completely. And you know it perfectly well.’

  The dark gaze remained hooded and unreadable, giving no sign of the turmoil within.

  ‘So?’

  She rose to face him, her nerves vibrating like plucked wires.

  ‘So I’ll marry you – if you’re sure that’s what you want.’

  ‘It is.’

  There was a small glow of warmth somewhere in the turbulence of his mind, as though a glimmer of light had appeared at the end of a very long tunnel. He knew he shouldn’t risk her getting caught up in his affairs but, if she would accept the half-measure he had in mind, he ought to be able to protect her. And then, once he’d found and dealt with the bastard who had arranged his father’s death and also possibly murdered Richard, he would be able to say all the things he dared not say to her now; and she would find she had a whole loaf after all – and always had done. But that was for the future. The present moment still required caution.

  ‘So. For the time being – and for reasons I don’t intend to give you – I’d like our understanding to remain private. Tell your family, but no one else – and don’t have the banns read. I’ll leave for London today and return after the harvest.’ He paused, taking her hands again. ‘If I could stay, I would. But --’

  ‘I know you can’t. Your work --’

  ‘It’s not that. Gino is capable of handling all but the most exacting commissions and Giacomo is used to dealing with the financial side of things. If it were just that, I’d stay for a time to help you. But other considerations make it … inadvisable.’

  Kate looked him squarely in the eye.

  ‘In particular, the consideration that sends you flying abou
t the country and that I’m not supposed to ask about?’

  ‘Yes. It’s just become a priority.’ Luciano hesitated again. ‘Since I can’t stay myself, I’m going to leave Tobias here with you – at least until we’re married – because you’ll need him. How does all that sound?’

  ‘Efficient,’ replied Kate acidly. ‘And peculiar. Typical of you, in fact.’

  He smiled at her then with all his customary, devastating effect and drew her into a light, comforting embrace.

  ‘I know. Some things never change, do they? But cheer up. Better the devil you know, after all. And at least you can’t say you didn’t know what you were getting.’

  ~ * * ~ * * ~

  FOUR

  Toby and Tabitha received the news of Kate’s forthcoming nuptials with a remarkable absence of surprise and a certain circumspect pleasure. Dorothy, on the other hand, was finally shocked out of her long apathy.

  ‘You’re going to do what?’

  Kate stared at her, praying that this time the key would turn.

  ‘Marry Luciano del Santi. I love him. I always have.’

  Dorothy stood up and the unopened book on her knee slid unheeded to the floor.

  ‘Kate – you can’t! You don’t know him. He hasn’t even told you his real name – let alone what dangerous games he’s playing.’

  The green eyes grew thoughtful.

  ‘His name is Falcieri. What dangerous games?’

  ‘Haven’t you guessed? Or do you honestly think he’s only hiding his true identity because his father was hanged for treason?’

  ‘No.’ Kate drew a long breath and then loosed it. ‘I think he’s done it because he believes his father was innocent. And he’s trying to prove it.’