by Lauren Royal
With that, he threw back his head and laughed, a great roar that all but rattled the enormous chandelier overhead.
"She's a gem," he told Jason. Peering over their shoulders, he frowned. "Od's fish, Barbara and Frances are at it again. I'd best be off." And he made his way toward the ballroom, a commanding figure in dark red velvet trimmed with some sort of fur instead of ribbons.
Cait all but collapsed against Jason's chest. "Barbara and Frances?" she asked weakly.
"His two mistresses of the moment." When she looked up at him in shock, he just laughed. "Come along, I think you could do with some wine." He guided her down the hall toward the refreshment room.
"I didn't mean to imply there was love—I mean, that you—that line just popped into my head, and—"
"Think nothing of it."
She halted in her tracks and turned to confront him. "And why didn't you tell me the king might be here? He must've thought I was sodie-heid"—at the look on his face, she translated—"feather-brained, aye?"
"Kendra did say Charles would be in attendance." He led her to a table and picked up a cup. "If you'll remember."
Caithren wracked her brain while he handed her the cup and lifted a gigantic, solid silver ladle that must have weighed ten pounds if it were an ounce. "Aye, that is exactly what she said. Charles would be in attendance. As though he were a personal friend of the family or some such—"
"He is."
She dropped the cup, jumping back as it splashed and rolled under the table.
"We spent years together with him in exile, after the Civil War. In abject poverty, I might add. The Restoration restored more than Charles's throne—he saw our property restored as well. And he settled titles on my two younger brothers, who otherwise would have—"
"How was I supposed to know such a thing, you daftie? The longer I'm around you, the more confused I get." She looked down. "And now I've gone and ruined Lady Kendra's fancy gold shoes."
Jason only smiled. "So I'll buy her another pair or three." He filled a second cup and curled her fingers around it. "Here. Drink."
Served from an enormous silver punch bowl shaped like a swan, the wine was spiced and delicious. She drank two cups of it, danced with Jason, then drank another. Her eyes never strayed too far from King Charles. But he didn't stay long. When he left, she sagged against Jason in something akin to relief, tempered with a healthy dose of awe.
She had actually attended the same ball as King Charles. Cameron wasn't going to believe it.
Jason introduced her to Lady Castlemaine and Lord Arlington and the Duke of Buckingham. Everyone she'd ever heard of seemed to be here.
Everyone but Adam.
She couldn't bring herself to be too sorry, though. Much as she wanted to see Adam and ask him to deed her Leslie, this night was too magical to really wish such mundane matters would intrude.
Jason followed her when she staggered off the dance floor and over to a wall, leaning against the mantel of one of the immense fireplaces that flanked either end of the ballroom. They weren't lit tonight, which was a good thing, because the chamber was overly warm as it was.
A giddy little giggle bubbled out as she looked up at Jason. Surely no one in the room was as handsome as he. He wore a dark green velvet suit that brought out his eyes, and his own glossy black hair skimmed his shoulders. The hair that she'd cut. She'd cut the hair of a marquess.
She giggled again at the memory. "Will you fetch me another cup of wine?"
"I think you're tipsy enough as it is," he responded with a good-natured grin.
Now that he mentioned it, her head was reeling a wee bit—not that she'd admit it. "It's only this glorious night. I will remember it forever, my lord."
"I won't have you start 'my lording' me now. Not after what we've shared between us."
The thought of what they'd shared made her blush. "The wine? Please?"
He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "As you wish. But we'll get you something to eat as well."
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Jason guided Cait back to the refreshment room and handed her a knot biscuit. She nibbled on the braided, anise-flavored bread while he wandered down the buffet table, loading a plate with light fare: asparagus, cubed cheese, an assortment of luscious fruits. Handing her the plate, he filled two more cups with the heady spiced wine.
Cait looked around for two open seats.
"I've another idea." Jason inclined his head toward the door. "Come along." Munching a cube of cheese, he led her back through the ballroom and out into the formal garden.
Burning torches were set about. Cait breathed deep of the night air, refreshingly cool compared to inside. Here and there a couple strolled the garden paths, but mostly it was quiet and serene.
She followed him out beyond the bright light of the torches, where he sat himself on a low brick wall. Handing her a cup, he took the plate from her and set it down.
"We cannot see out here," she complained, seating herself on the other side of the plate.
"Ah, but we cannot be seen, either." He plucked a raspberry from a small pile and popped it into his mouth. "Your eyes will adjust."
"They're adjusting already," she said, feeling lightheaded. The hand holding her cup was trembling a little, but she raised it and took a sip.
He selected another raspberry and brought it to her lips, running it back and forth across her mouth before he slipped it inside. Sweetness burst on her tongue as she bit into it. He watched her swallow, then leaned across the plate to take her lips in a gentle kiss.
He pulled away an inch. "Shall we move back near the torches?"
"Nay." She leaned closer, bringing her mouth to his again. With a satisfied chuckle, he brushed her lips, and his tongue flicked out to taste them.
He sat back and sipped from his cup.
An asparagus spear made its way toward her mouth. She opened, and he fed it to her slowly. "Lovely night, is it not?"
"Mmm." Anything more intelligible was beyond her at the moment.
"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go back inside?"
She shook her head. "Mmm-mmm."
When the asparagus was gone, he leaned to kiss her again, taking her chin in one hand, plundering her mouth till she was breathless. He tasted of fruit and spiced wine, lust and man. A most heady combination.
"I cannot go back inside," she whispered. "I don't think my legs would carry me."
"Are you cold?"
"Nay." But she was shivering. "Aye. I don't know."
He took her hand and drew her off the wall. "Come here, then. I'll keep you warm." And spreading his knees, he eased her to stand between them.
With him still seated, their mouths were on a level. It wasn't surprising when they met, hot and urgent. His hands wandered to her back, pressing her closer between his legs. She could feel the hardness of him beneath his breeches and her layers of skirts, and also an ache, a throbbing, low in her own belly.
"I'm not cold now," she murmured against his mouth.
He drew back and sipped from his cup, then tilted it to her lips so she could sip, too. Reaching for the plate, he selected a ripe strawberry, bit into it, and fed her the rest. Then another one, but this time he bit off a piece and covered her mouth with his, transferring it to her with a flick of his supple tongue.
Never had a strawberry tasted so delicious.
"Hmm…" He watched her, holding up the half-eaten berry. Though his eyes looked gray in the half-light, she didn't miss the speculative gleam.
He set down the berry, and his fingers moved to her stomacher, detaching the tabs at the top.
She licked her lips, tasting strawberry and Jason. "What are you—"
"Hush." He bent down on the stiff stomacher, and something snapped.
"Jase!" It hung drunkenly away from her chest, folded in half and dangling.
"Kendra's seamstress can make another." Working to loosen the laces beneath, he bent to kiss the swell of her breasts.
His mouth, warm a
nd damp, made her heart lurch—she was certain he could feel it pounding. Something melted inside her. Her hands tangled in his hair.
He pulled away, lowering the delicate chemise that shielded her breasts from his view. "Christ," he bit out, watching her chest heave. A tense moment passed, the only sounds those of their harsh breathing.
Then he lifted the half-eaten berry and rubbed it over one taut nipple.
Immediately his mouth moved to cover it, suckling off the sticky sweetness with a low groan that made heat curl in Caithren's middle. Lest her other nipple feel neglected, he doused it and fed off it, too, his teeth nipping the hard bud until a little moan escaped her lips. Then his mouth was on hers, wild and demanding, and his arms went around her, tugging her against his hard body.
The blood rushed through her veins and straight to her head, and she was dizzy, but he was holding her up. One hand groped back to find the berry, and it was in their mouths, first hers, then his, until the pulp was gone and only a tart-sweetness was left on their fencing tongues.
A woman's high-pitched laugh startled Cait as a couple meandered close. She jerked away and held the stomacher up to her chest, panting.
Jason sat straight and calmly fed her another spear of asparagus. She didn't think she could chew and swallow, but somehow she managed, and he handed her a cup of wine to wash it down. Hers, his…it didn't matter. He drained the other cup himself.
Music tinkled from a distance then abruptly ceased, telling them a door had opened and closed, and the couple had reentered the ballroom. Jason unbuttoned his surcoat and spread the sides to envelop her, and Caithren dropped the stomacher and leaned in, pressing her breasts against his chest. She wedged her hands between them to loosen his cravat and work at the laces it hid, frantic to get to the warm skin beneath.
The slap and scrape of shoes told them more people were approaching.
"Bloody hell." Jason pulled away and hopped down from the wall. Straightening his disheveled clothing, he took the plate in one hand and Caithren's hand in the other. Holding the stomacher up to cover her bosom, she teetered on Kendra's high shoes while he drew her through two small formal gardens and into a long, arched arbor, the lattice entwined with flowers and climbing vines.
Halfway through, he stopped and fed her a raspberry. And another. Laughing, holding the dress up with both hands, she chewed and swallowed. Some juice ran down her chin, and he leaned to lick it off. The plate between them, he nuzzled her neck, and a warm shiver rippled through her body. He ran his tongue up to her ear. "You're delicious," he whispered there.
"You're very sleekit," she returned.
"I'm what?" His lips grazed her forehead.
"Very…charming."
He pulled back and fed her another raspberry. "I thought I was exasperating and unimaginative. Black and white."
"Exasperating, aye. But unimaginative…" She leaned forward to tongue one more raspberry from his hand. "You're causing me to reevaluate. You seem to be changing. Or perhaps I was wrong."
"You? Wrong?" His laughter rang through the fragrant tunnel. He selected a few raspberries for himself and tossed them into his mouth. "Besides," he said around them, "the Gypsy woman said that you were supposed to be the creative lover. And beguiling, if I recall aright." He waggled his eyebrows at her.
"It was my lover she was talking of, not me. And will you never let that go? I told you, she misjudged me."
"I think not." Before she could disagree, he pushed the last raspberry between her lips. "You're beguiling as hell, Caithren Leslie."
Her hands and the plate were all caught between them when he yanked her against him and sealed his mouth to hers. He was a new man tonight, she thought blissfully. Something had changed him. And if that something was her…could he love her? Because she knew in her heart she loved him, no matter that he'd deceived her, and although she'd been unable to admit it, even to herself.
Until now.
Her senses careened at the thought, and his kiss, and the intoxicating fragrance of the flowers overhead blended with his distinctive scent. Just when she thought her knees would give out, yet another couple came sauntering down the arbor.
Jason pulled back with a muttered oath. "What are all these people doing out here?"
"I imagine they're wondering the same thing." Clutching the stomacher with one hand, Cait used the other to rub the spot where the plate had pushed into her abdomen. "Why don't you put that down?"
"This?" An astonished look on his face, he held up the plate. "There are still three strawberries left."
"You can get more inside."
"Ah, but I want them outside." His eyes glittered suggestively while a fingertip lightly traced her lips.
"Please, Jase." She shivered, but not from the cold. "I don't think I can stand up any longer. Not…not when you do that."
"Hmm." Looking over her head, he craned his neck to see the back of the garden. "I spy a solution. Come along." And once more she found herself hurrying after him, holding both his hand and the top of her disheveled dress.
Through the arbor, a white wooden summerhouse shone in the moonlight. The only opening was in the back, so he walked her around, pulled her inside, and they were alone. Crickets chirped beyond the latticed walls, but other than that, the only sounds they heard were their own uneven breaths.
"Sit," Jason said, waving her to the bench that ran along the circular structure's walls. "Better?"
"Much. I was…feeling weak there, for a minute."
"Good." He set the plate aside and sat close by her. "I hope to have you feeling weaker still in a minute more." And he lifted her and sat her straddling his legs, facing him.
She gave a little start of surprise, then looked around, although she knew they were alone. "This feels wicked."
"Mmm." He gave her one slow kiss. "That's the idea."
It was wicked but good. It gave her access to his face, which she covered with little kisses. And her hands were free to roam his body, although he was entirely too clothed to make her happy.
He laughed at her frustration, then tilted her head back. His mouth played in the sensitive hollows beneath her chin and along her throat. She reached under his surcoat to pull the shirt from his breeches. His skin beneath felt warm and taut, his back smooth and muscled.
When his hand sneaked below her skirts and played along one thigh, her own hands stilled on his body. "Is something wrong?" he asked, bending his head to draw the tip of his tongue along her bared breasts.
"I—not here—you cannot…oooh," she said when he lifted her skirts and rearranged them, drawing her closer so she could feel him straining against his breeches. "This is very wicked."
"You think so?" He eased his hand from beneath her skirts and started loosening his laces.
"Jason, you cannot—"
"Watch me." His hands moved to her waist, lifted her, brought her back down slowly, slowly…and she felt him sliding inside her.
At the same time he pierced her with his body, he pierced her eyes with his, holding her gaze as tightly as his hands held her steady. With a moan she couldn't quite believe came from her own throat, she felt herself opening, welcoming his warmth into hers.
She licked her lips, closed her eyes, threw back her head. "Oooh, this is very, very wicked."
Laughing low, he licked a shivery line up her throat to her mouth, then settled a soft kiss on her lips. Pulling away, she looked down. He'd arranged her skirts carefully around them.
"No one can see," he whispered. "Even should they stumble upon us. Can you move?"
She did, slowly, feeling him slip out and then back in. "By all the saints." Had anything ever felt so good?
"Excellent. Now stop." He held her hips in place with his hands. "I've a craving for a strawberry."
"What?" She tried to wiggle, but he wouldn't permit it.
"Hold still."
"I cannot!"
"Yes, you can." He lifted a berry, licked it slowly, bit off half. When he offered he
r the other half, she shook her head. With a shrug, he finished it, then brought his mouth to hers, kissing her long and deep until all the strawberry flavor was gone and her whole world tasted like Jason.
Involuntarily she shifted her hips, but he stopped her and deprived her of his mouth.
"Not yet. Two left."
Feeling an incredible urgency where his body met hers, she let out a wee bleat of frustration. He took up the second strawberry.
She lurched forward and took it in one bite.
"Tsk, sweet." He eased her back down on him, grinning when she moaned at the forbidden friction—a grin so lethal, she wondered it wasn't illegal. "Now we'll have to make the final one last that much longer."
He drew the scratchy tip of the berry over her cheeks, her chin. Down into the valley of her cleavage. Around her bared shoulders to her back, where he traced a tickly pattern.
"What am I writing?" When she whimpered her impatience, his face hardened in a mock frown. "Concentrate."
Around, up, down…"Caithren!" she breathed with relief.
"Um-hmm."
A curve, up, down, a squiggle…"Jason?"
"Excellent. Now…"
A big, swooping line that enclosed all he'd written. Could it be…"A heart?"
"Brilliant. I shall have to reward you."
But their names in a heart were reward enough. Could it mean—
He bit into the berry then and smeared its juice across her chest and up her neck, his tongue following the sweet path all the way to her mouth. "Now," he murmured against her lips. His hands tightened on her hips and lifted—
And another couple stumbled into the summerhouse, mouth to mouth, locked in a torrid embrace.
With a groan Caithren's head dropped to Jason's shoulder. It was all she could do to keep tears from springing to her eyes. Jason stifled a strangled laugh. The couple didn't notice. They fell to the grass in the center and started tearing at each other's clothing.
"How could they?" Cait whispered. "Don't they see us?"
"I suspect they're in no condition to care." A pained look came over his face. "I expect you don't feel the same?"
Doubtless her shocked look told him all he needed to know. "I was afraid of that," he whispered dryly, lifting her with a mighty heave and setting her on her feet.
