by Gina Black
Her eyes big, her lips pursed, she looked like Montford after eating the fish at the water-works.
Nicholas laughed.
Then Katherine began to laugh too, peals of sweet laughter, until there were tears streaming out of her eyes. She held her sides, gasping for air and making a giggling wheeze.
“You looked at me in such an odd way,” she said when she could, “and it tasted so unusual, not at all like something that would make me want to mate with you.” She blushed. “I would never need oysters,” she added.
“Ah lass, physical attraction can be a powerful spell. You have caught me no less than, it seems, I have caught you.”
“What are we to do?” she whispered.
Nicholas rose and held out his hand to her. “’Tis clear we must ask the innkeeper for a bed.”
* * *
It was a small room with a small fire, mismatched furniture, and a threadbare carpet. But it was clean, and the bed was big, and the rope supports tight. Once the door was latched, Katherine flung herself into the warmth of Nicholas’s arms. Hot joy overwhelmed her. She had this last night with him.
His mouth swooped down, capturing hers, his tongue seeking, plundering.
She fumbled with the buttons of his brocade waistcoat, urgent fingers always so capable, now unable to accomplish such a simple task, until at last she had it open. In hurried jerks, she thrust the garment over his shoulders and down his arms. She yanked his linen shirt up from his breeches and ran her hands along the hot smooth skin of his back, then slid a hand around his waist and brought it to rest on his heart which beat in a hard steady thrum.
He walked her backwards to the bed. Without moving his mouth from hers, or relaxing his hold, he came down with her onto the thin flock mattress, rolling onto his back so she rested on top.
Katherine wrenched her mouth from his, and propped herself up on her arms. “I cannot understand this need. ’Tis like a beast within me. ’Tis frightening to find I cannot stop myself from touching you, from wanting you inside me.” She ran her fingers through his hair, spreading it out in a halo around him.
Nicholas stroked her cheeks, tucking her hair behind her ears. “We must use care tonight, lass. Your newly plucked maidenhead may keep you sore for a bit. I would not wish to hurt you.”
“I do not want to be cautious,” she said fiercely, shaking her head so her hair fell all about them. “All my life I have been cautious. I wish to be incautious. I wish to be heedless, even reckless. To act like there is no tomorrow; there is only now. Here. Only you and me.”
Nicholas groaned, pulled her head down, and kissed her, a soft delicate brush of the lips that sent fire through her. He traced her eyebrows and nose with his fingertips, before returning his mouth to hers for a long, tender joining. They both sighed when the kiss ended.
“Patience, lass. Your nether lips are like flower petals. If we overuse them, they will bruise. We must go slowly, and you must lead, but the pleasure will be just as sweet.”
Nicholas got up and helped her to rise. She watched him divest himself of his clothing while she fumbled with her stays. Frustrated with impatience, she snarled the laces, and Nicholas had to help her with the knot.
As her clothes dropped into a pile on the floor, Katherine could not keep her eyes off Nicholas’s impressive form. He stood at an angle to her, a golden-bronze figure in the firelight, long muscular torso and compact hips above strong well-formed thighs and calves. Even his feet were beautiful. Everything about him was perfect, except for the red puckered place on his arm where he had been shot. She went to him, and kissed that spot, to thank it for bringing them together.
Against her bidding, her eyes drew downward to his man’s part, pointing straight out like a sword. Katherine gasped, but he smiled, a charming Nicholas smile, and she relaxed. He reached his hand to her, and she took it, warm and reassuring in hers.
He pulled her onto the bed. They lay on their sides, facing each other. He stroked her arms and back, leaving trails of heat in spite of the chill air. His hands caressed her breasts. She moaned as her nipples went hard. He teased each in turn before his hands trailed down her stomach, to the curly hairs that covered her woman’s place. He examined her with such intensity, and touched her with such care, that she felt a sob catch in her throat at the loveliness and exquisite pleasure of it.
She rubbed his chest, marveling at the hard strength in him. As she traced his nipples, his muscles tensed, and his breathing grew rough.
“Although we must go slowly, I find I cannot wait. I want you now,” he almost groaned the words out. “But ’twill go better for you if you are on top of me.”
“I-I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“Shhh,” Nicholas soothed. “I shall show you.” He ran his hands over her breasts, to her hips, coaxing her onto him. “You must put me inside you, and then ride me, like I am a horse.”
Katherine took in a deep breath as the image of the stallion and the mare came back to her. This time the thought flickered through her mind that perhaps the mare did not scream from pain, but from lust.
She rose above him, awkward at first, but then gained courage as he smiled at her. He parted her nether lips, and she positioned herself over him, gasping at the feeling of fullness as she eased herself down his hard erection. Her tenderness urged her to move slowly as he slid deeper and deeper. His face wore an expression of concentration. He traced his fingers along her stomach, over her breasts, and down her sides, and she started laughing because it tickled. It felt so odd to laugh with him inside her, her muscles clenching his hard length.
He closed his eyes and groaned.
Katherine sobered. “Are you alright? Have I hurt you?”
Nicholas shook his head. “Nay, but your laughter squeezes me so. ’Tis a good feeling, lass. A very good feeling.”
Their eyes locked. Her breath caught as he took a fistful of her hair in each hand. Wrapping it around his wrists, he drew her face down to his and kissed her rough and thorough, his tongue teasing hers until she relaxed and became accustomed to the feel of him inside her. He tasted of coffee, and she knew she would never smell that particular drink without thinking of him. He ran his hands to her hips and back along her buttocks, urging her to accept more of him.
As he began to move in slow easy motions, a rush of heat surged through her. She braced her arms on either side of him, and found the angle made his motions feel even more exquisite than before. Her breasts hung before him. He took one in each hand, squeezing them and teasing her nipples. Katherine breathed in short little puffs, unable to take a full breath. Her body began to throb, as a pulsing pleasure built within her.
Going up on one arm, Nicholas took a breast in his mouth, alternately teasing the nipple with his teeth, and sucking hard.
She moaned her pleasure.
He lay back, ran a hand to the apex of her thighs, and began stroking in time with her movement.
Tight heat began to build inside her. Nicholas clenched his teeth, and he groaned. He put an arm around her, and rolled her onto her back. She wrapped her legs around him as he thrust, hard, deep, and quick. Katherine writhed, reaching to meet him, consumed by the power of their joining. A profound tension built inside her and then it exploded. She shrieked, and Nicholas cried out his release.
He went down onto his side, bringing her with him, holding her close. She trembled.
He brushed the hair from her mouth, where it stuck, hot from the heat of their passion.
“Why do you cry, lass?” He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Did I hurt you? I had meant to go slow.”
“No. I…I do not know,” she whispered. “That is, I did not know I was crying.” She shuddered, overwhelmed by a rush of emotion she did not understand. The tears came in earnest.
He wrapped her into his arms and held her tight until she stopped.
“’Tis so wonderful,” she said. “I could never imagine anything so pleasing. I do not know why I cry when I am so happy
.”
He took the end of the sheet beneath them and wiped at her face, then kissed where the tears had been.
“’I am greatly relieved,” he said, eyes twinkling. “But I wish to know, if you cry when you are happy, do you laugh when you are sad? Mayhap instead of trying to make you laugh all these days, I should have been trying to make you cry.”
Katherine giggled.
“Ah lass, when you laugh I come undone.” He found her hand, raised it to his lips, and sucked on the end of each finger, one by one. “You taste of orange.”
“Mmmmm,” Katherine moaned softly. Her body still hummed. She wanted his hands all over her and him inside her again. Her breasts swelled and she throbbed. Katherine did not think she could possibly sleep. From the ends of her toes to the tips of her fingers, she quivered with life. She ran a finger along the cleft on his chin, and kissed him there. She wanted this night to go on forever—so that she could remember it forever.
A sudden crash outside in the hallway made them both jump. Nicholas leaped from the bed. His pistol materialized in his hand. He faced the door. A loud voice cursed just outside, and Nicholas relaxed.
“’Tis but a drunkard who cannot find his room,” he said, putting down the gun and joining her on the bed. “There are many villains in London. One must be ever on the alert.”
“I noted your sword at the ready,” Katherine smiled.
“My sword?”
Katherine nodded and looked pointedly at his erection.
Nicholas laughed. “My sword likes to be ever alert, but as to whether it would protect you or ravish you, I think ‘twould be the latter.”
Katherine smiled. Then she shivered. She felt safe in this room, but somewhere outside was Richard Finch. She had no doubt he already searched for them.
“Do you think he has tracked us to London?” she said, unwilling to say Finch’s name. “In my mind, I see him behind me, ready to grab me. Or I sense him hiding somewhere near. I know he isn’t there, but ’tis unnerving.”
Nicholas put his arms around her and held her tight. “Ah, lass. He cannot be here. I think it most likely he has slinked off to his home, hiding behind each tree and bush all the way.” Nicholas chuckled, and she felt it rumble in his chest. “’Twould be hard for him to follow us here so quickly without his coach or his clothing.”
Katherine chewed on the inside of her lip.
Nicholas continued. “I do not think we have seen the last of him. But I think we are safe from having to view his arrogant face for many days.” He pulled a sheet over them, and tucked her into the curve of his arm.
“Tonight you may sleep without fear, lass. Should any further commotion threaten our peace and security, my sword and I will protect you.”
Then he kissed her again.
* * *
They had made love once more. This time without haste, prolonging each moment, in a slow deliberate joining of body and soul that wrung exquisite, exhausted pleasure.
Nicholas had quickly fallen into a sound sleep, but Katherine could not. She lay tucked into his embrace, his hand cupping her breast, and her head resting on his arm. For what must have been hours, she found herself in that strange place between waking and sleeping, where one did not precisely dream, nor completely lose awareness of their surroundings. Nicholas’s rhythmic breathing in one ear, and the steady sound of his pulse in the other, disconcerted and soothed her. Just as his presence had always alarmed and charmed her.
A month ago, entrenched in the daily grind of Ashfield, she would never have imagined lying naked beside a man.
A month ago, she had not known Nicholas.
He had turned her life upside down. Or perhaps he had made it right-side up.
The night watchman called out, “Past two of the clock and a cold windy morning.” Katherine sighed and wiggled her toes. Even at night, the noise of London persisted—the sign rattled outside, drunkards yelled in the street below, dogs barked. The floor outside their door creaked as guests passed by. She could hear their conversations, and wondered if anyone outside had been able to hear their lovemaking. With an embarrassed sigh, she snuggled into Nicholas’s protective form, and he gave her a squeeze.
In the wee morning hours, as the sky lightened, she wondered how she would ever manage at Cousin Alicia’s when she had such need of Nicholas’s touch, his smile, his humor. He had turned her drab, gray world into one that had color, sound, and movement. He had shown her passion and tenderness. How was she to give that up? Her growing need for him had already changed her. If she was not careful, she would beg him to keep her.
Katherine shifted on the thin mattress and let out a long heaving sigh.
He had said naught of the future but that he would show her the ocean. It was the kind of remark tossed out in conversation. An empty promise. Not a promise on which to build a lifetime.
A new day would dawn on the morrow, bringing with it clarity, reason, and hopefully her usual good sense.
She edged away from Nicholas’s warm body.
He made a light snore, and settled her back close to him.
* * *
Nicholas awoke refreshed and with a plan. It had come to him during the night. In the clear light of morning, he rejoiced at its simplicity.
Katherine slept soundly, tucked into his warmth. Her head lay a heavy weight on his arm. She snored light puffs of air. He craned his neck to look at her. Tears stained her face. Had she cried during the night?
He blew into her ear.
She brushed at the place he had blown and made a gentle snort. This time he kissed her there, and began to suckle on the lobe.
Katherine moaned and opened an eye.
“Good morn,” he said.
She yawned and closed her eyes again.
“You must get up. ’Twill be a big day for us.” He gave her a jiggle. “Arise, Lady Katherine. Today we shall be wed.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
KATHERINE’S EYES popped open.
She could not have heard him correctly. Marry? Today?
How could that be?
She lurched up, holding the bedclothes to her chest. “What did you say?”
Nicholas beamed at her. “Today you will be my bride.” He plucked her fingers from the sheet and brought them to his lips, planting a tender kiss on her knuckles. “I have compromised your honor, so I shall marry you. You shall be safe from Finch and your father. And my heir will be protected if you carry him.”
Katherine swallowed. She would be safe, a babe would be safe. It was a show of his good honor that he wished to marry her. Yet, she felt a great disappointment at his words, as though she’d received a drenching of cold water. She wanted more from him than duty.
She wanted love.
Avoiding his eyes, she began to finger-comb and plait the tangled mess of her hair. He had once said he would require passion in a mate.
But passion was not love.
And he had not asked her if she would be his wife. Nay, he had told her they would marry. Yet, had he asked her, how could she say ‘no’ when she loved him so?
For she did. God help her she did.
She looked up, and their eyes locked.
“Have you naught to say?” Nicholas asked.
“You have taken me by surprise,” she said. “I could not speak at first. Truly, Nicholas, I thank you for your wish to save my honor and protect me. ’Tis very good of you, and I am very grateful. Yet, I would hope there is more to such a request as this?”
He sat up and looked at her oddly. “No, I do not marry you just to save your honor.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Katherine, I often act on my instincts. It is my way.” He took her hand and drew slow circles on her palm with his forefinger. “I know ’tis not romantic to say so, but my instinct is to marry you. It is the right thing for both of us.” He smiled. “I find myself wanting to take care of you. You already take good care of me in so many ways. You inflame me, Katherine.”
His voice had gone husky. He le
aned to her and put his lips on hers. Their tongues met in a deep, passionate kiss that sent a hot thrill through her. When they broke apart, they both were breathing hard.
“What say you, dearest Katherine?”
Katherine smiled. “Yes, Nicholas, though you have not actually asked me, I say ‘yes I will marry you,’ and without my father’s consent. But however can we do it today?”
“One can do anything in London, even find a clergyman who will marry an impatient groom and bride without a special license, banns, or questions.” He got out of bed and began to dress. “You bide here while I make the arrangements. I will have your breakfast and have the cat sent up in the meantime.”
Katherine slowly plaited her hair and watched Nicholas dress, admiring the long lines and flexing muscles of his hard body.
“You will have to get up, lass, to lock the door after me,” he said when he was done.
Still holding the night rail to cover herself, Katherine rose and followed him. He captured her in his arms, raising her chin for a deep kiss.
“I will be back as soon as I am able.” His eyes smiled into hers. “Ah, Katherine, you look so tired.” He gave her a squeeze then raised his hands to her shoulders. “But do not go back to sleep. Be ready when I return?” He raised an eyebrow.
Katherine nodded, and gave him an uncertain smile as he departed.
Standing alone in the quiet room, Katherine did not know whether to laugh or cry.
Marry Nicholas?
Become a Baron’s wife?
Plain Katherine would be Lady Katherine. The thought brought a giggle to her lips, but then she sobered as her disappointment returned.
It had not mattered that John Perkins did not love her, because she did not love him. But she did love Nicholas. A declaration of love on his part would have filled her heart with joy.
She dropped the sheet and began to dress. Struggling with her stays, she chided herself for being fanciful. Then she looked at her black dress and pursed her lips. Black did not bode well for a marriage. But there was naught she could do about it.
