Proud and unashamed, she went to the bed and turned back the covers, slipping between the cool sheets, knowing as she waited, her body trembling and burning with anticipation, that he would follow. She was not disappointed. Kit rose from the carpet and advanced towards the bed, magnificent and masterful, his eyes boring into hers. He moved a candle closer to see her better, and after removing his clothes he bent over her.
‘You wanton. You witch. You she-devil. You are my undoing,’ he murmured, a husky tone having invaded his voice. He felt the sudden quickening of his desire as he lay and drew her into his arms, feeling her womanliness and the hard peeks of her rounded breasts pressed to his chest as he prepared to hold dear the fullness of her response.
‘Love me, Kit,’ Serena begged with her lips against his cheek, her eyes dark and sultry, ‘and show me how to love you—how to please you.’
‘Have no fear, madam. I have a thing or two to teach you as regards pleasing me. I trust you will be an avid pupil. But it’s a hard thing for me to restrain myself and be tender, when I’m a man starved for so long of feminine pleasure.’
‘Remember that I am not as fragile as you consider me to be. I will remind you that you must please me, too, my lord,’ Serena sighed, her lips finding his as his hands boldly explored and caressed every inch of her.
‘And so I shall, my sweet,’ Kit murmured, looking deep into her eyes. ‘And by all that is holy, I shall love you until I die.’
His mouth became like a living flame as it skimmed over her flesh, his passion gathering in intensity until she was quivering from the pleasure his lips evoked. Serena was enslaved by him, and the heat of his mouth laid bare all her senses as her sanity fled and he covered her naked form with his own, crushing his lips over her proffered mouth, fired by a hungry urgency that would not be denied.
In that dimly lit bedchamber, Serena gave herself willingly to the man with whom she wanted to spend the rest of her life, matching his rhythm with her own, clasping him to her as something wild and primitive built inside her and went racing through her veins, her soft moans of pleasure smothered by lips both masterful and tender. For a time that seemed endless they made love with a savage passion which exploded and made her gasp and cry out and, giving her no respite, Kit would begin again, driven on by unparellelled agonies of desire, and they became forgetful and oblivious of everything but each other and their incomparable joy.
Afterwards, there were no regrets for what they had done. Their pleasures had been willingly shared, but until they were man and wife there would be no more such stolen, exquisite interludes in a house in which family and servants would be scandalised by such behaviour.
It soon became clear to everyone that something important had happened between Kit and Serena. There was a distinct softening in their attitudes towards each other. Serena positively sparkled, and Kit no longer went around with a face like an angry bear. Lady Mary was highly delighted when they told her they were to be married, yet she was not surprised.
‘I cannot marry Kit until my father has been approached for his permission,’ Serena told her.
‘There’s no need for that,’ Kit said.
Both ladies turned and looked at him. Where he lounged indolently in his chair he quirked a casual eyebrow.
‘Oh?’ they said simultaneously.
‘Your father gave his consent in his letter to me,’ he told Serena casually. ‘Well—words to that effect. In fact, I would even stretch my neck out and say it was bordering on an order that I marry you.’
Serena went to him, looking down into his face in stupefaction. ‘Kit!’ she chided, cross that he had kept this information from her. ‘What are you saying? Will you kindly explain?’
‘Of course, my pet,’ he grinned up at her. ‘In my letter to your father I told him of the circumstances of our being thrust together. He expressed his relief that you are safe, but accused me of compromising you by bringing you to Edinburgh alone with me. He wrote insisting that I have a care for your reputation and, since I am the one who carried you off, I must defend your good name until I either make you my wife or return you to his care.’
Serena stared at him in incredulity, not having seen the letter and having no idea that her father had given her over to Kit’s care so completely. She frowned, distrustful of this wily future husband of hers. ‘I would very much like to see this letter, my lord.’
‘I wouldn’t mind seeing it myself,’ retorted Lady Mary. ‘Before any wedding plans are set in motion, I want to make quite certain it will be with Sir Henry’s approval.’
After reading her father’s letter confirming what Kit had told her, Serena wondered what Kit had really put in his letter to her father—thinking it better for her peace of mind not to ask.
‘I could not endure the wait,’ Kit told her when they were alone. ‘It could have been months before a reply arrived from your father—when I could make you truly mine and join my starving body with yours. I could not have borne it and would have been forced to break my vow not to touch you and find my way to your chamber for release.’
Serena tipped her head and gazed at him with a coyly flirtatious smile. ‘And I would have welcomed you most willingly. In fact—’ her radiant smile widened, ‘—speaking of release—’
‘No, minx,’ Kit returned on a laugh, reading her mind perfectly and pretending to be shocked by what she was about to suggest, while secretly pleased at her boldness. ‘Have you no shame?’
‘None at all where you are concerned.’
Kit smiled lazily, his eyes glittering. ‘Then I thank God for that. But I intend observing all the betrothal formalities—so don’t tempt me.’
‘I thought you enjoyed my tempting you, my lord.’
‘You are all I ever dreamed of and more, my darling, but I mean what I say.’
‘And when you are my husband,’ she said on a more serious note, ‘will I be able to practise my religion? To go to Mass when possible—and on holy days for the official festivals of the church?’
Kit smiled down at her softly, knowing how important her faith was to her. She had welcomed and taken comfort in the opportunity to celebrate Mass with his mother whilst in Edinburgh. ‘I may be your husband, my love, but our marriage will not be torn asunder by religious differences. I shall have no authority over your soul.’ He gathered her into his arms, gently touching her proffered lips with his own. ‘It will be a hardship waiting to make you mine, but I shall endure it as best I can.’
Which he did, and it was the longest three weeks of his life.
The wedding party was small that collected in St Giles’ High Kirk of Edinburgh one April afternoon to see them married, Ludovick having left for Argyll two weeks earlier.
Melissa didn’t accompany Lady Mary, Kit and Serena, with two maids and Robin, to London when they left Edinburgh the day following the wedding. She went to Perth instead to stay with friends and to become better acquainted with her suitor.
The journey south was long and tedious, although it offered more comforts for Serena than when she had travelled north. Her one regret on leaving Edinburgh was that she had to leave Polly, her faithful mare, but Melissa had promised to take good care of her until she returned.
On reaching London they went to Chelsea, where Ludovick had put his house at their disposal. They were all content to do little for the first few days, Kit and Serena, knowing their time together might be limited, wanting to savour every moment. But their anxieties were building up as the time drew near when Kit would go to Whitehall to see the king.
Lying in bed, Kit breathed deeply of the perfumed heat of Serena’s body, satiated after the deep fulfilment of their lovemaking. He kissed the silken top of her head where she lay in the fold of his arm and snuggled against him, her arm thrown across his waist, her body still glowing and throbbing from his caressing hands. At first he was almost afraid of the pure perfection of her naked body, but his love and his need for her overcame his fear. He was amazed and delighted that s
he returned his passion with equal fervour.
Their lovemaking had an intensity neither of them understood. It was as if each time might be the last. Serena was aware of how much pleasure her body was capable of giving, and how much pleasure Kit was capable of giving her, and they spent many long hours throughout the nights discovering each other—unashamed, greedy and besotted.
Serena tilted her head upwards and looked at Kit, and she could see that his mind had wandered down a different path. For the moment he was not thinking of her. She often found him like this, his expression guarded and unreadable. While his features were in repose she studied the terse lines of his face, seeing shadows round his eyes and the uncompromising lines at the side of his mouth. Wriggling onto her stomach, she looked at him on a sigh, tenderly placing a kiss on his chest.
‘Won’t you share your troubled thoughts with me, Kit? You are concerned about going into the city today, I know.’
‘Aye,’ he murmured, knowing he would be going to the Palace of Whitehall to seek an audience with the king on the pain of death. ‘It’s worrying but it must be faced if I’m to shed this cloud that is smothering our lives. I wish to God this whole damned business was behind us. I rue the day I heard the name of Robert Catesby and became embroiled in this wretched business.’
‘It was a shameful and savage work,’ Serena whispered. ‘The work of Satan and no less.’
‘Satan in the guise of Salisbury. Of late I am not alone in thinking that the Gunpowder Plot has its roots elsewhere, that certain members of the king’s council have spun a web to embroil the Catholics.’
‘And you believe Salisbury to be behind it?’
‘It’s highly probable.’
‘But it was a Catholic conspiracy spurred on by resentment of the king’s broken promises, surely. Why would Salisbury devise such a wicked plot?’
‘A number of reasons that I can think of. His own advancement, for one, to deliberately damn the Catholics for ever is another—or to demonstrate his service to the king by first contriving a plot and then uncovering it. The more odious the plot, the greater the service and the more the king would depend on him in the future—just one of his subtle ways of manipulating His Majesty.’
Serena sighed, resting her cheek on her husband’s broad chest. ‘You speak in riddles, Kit. I’m baffled. What you say is all so strange.’
‘Before Queen Elizabeth’s death, when she was reluctant to name her successor, Salisbury, knowing King James was the prime candidate for the English throne, set up a correspondence with him. One thing I learned about the king during the time I spent at his court in Scotland was that he had an inability to resist love when it was offered—be it in the female form or his own gender.
‘Deprived of both his parents during childhood—his father murdered and his mother Mary, the queen, imprisoned and then executed—he was starved of affection, so it is easy to see why, with his sights set on the English throne, he allowed himself to be influenced by Salisbury—which was the beginning of Salisbury’s rise to power.’
‘But don’t you think it all sounds too far-fetched, Kit?’
‘Not at all. The evidence against me—that I kept the company of some of the leading conspirators—could also be applied to Salisbury. Thomas Percy was frequently seen coming out of Salisbury’s house in the early hours.’
‘Percy! But wasn’t he killed along with Catesby at Holbeach House?’
‘He was,’ Kit replied drily. ‘Their deaths were convenient—maybe deliberately brought about, to stop their mouths. It would not have suited Salisbury for them to have been taken alive and put to the torture. It’s possible he was afraid they might incriminate him. If Salisbury did instigate the plot, using Catesby and his cohorts as his agents, he has covered his tracks well. It is no secret that Salisbury, with his wide intelligence service, had foreknowledge of an impending stir. He even showed the king a mysterious letter warning of the plot, which had been delivered to him several days prior to the explosives being discovered beneath Parliament House.’
‘But all this is conjecture, isn’t it, Kit?’
He sighed, absently curling a long silken tress of her hair round his finger. ‘Perhaps it is only a theory and we will never know the truth of it. There are many varied intricacies going far back to Queen Elizabeth—and other plots which have been hatched against King James which, I believe, are all connected to the Gunpowder Plot. They are so chequered with agents and counter-agents that the truth of them is almost impossible to unravel. But whatever the truth behind the plot—which was without doubt cleverly contrived and may remain hidden forever—I must go to the king without Salisbury’s knowledge.’
‘But he is not your enemy, Kit.’
‘Not openly. But according to Ludovick, it was not the king who ordered my arrest when the conspiracy was uncovered, but Salisbury. He will thwart me before I speak to the king if he can. When he discovers I am in London, in secret he will have me arrested and thrown into the Tower and swiftly disposed of before word can reach the king.’
‘How will you reach the king? Because of his constant fear of assassination he is closely guarded, and Salisbury is never far away.’
‘I do have friends at Court I can trust—one who is a Gentleman of the King’s Bedchamber. My mother is also seeking an audience with the queen. She frequently attended services at the chapel in Scotland when the queen converted to Catholicism, and for this Her Majesty bore her a great personal fondness. I may manage to slip into Whitehall when some entertainment is being held and find my way into the king’s presence.’
‘Do you think he will grant you an audience?’
‘I believe so. The king has a canny reserve and an ability to keep his own counsel and form his own judgement. In the past I was fortunate to be called his friend, and when he lacked money to rule and govern his realm in Scotland, both myself and my father before that dug deep into our coffers to fund the Royal Treasury of Scotland. Loans were given and remain unpaid to this day. My father’s family down the ages have paid dearly both in coin and blood in their steadfast loyalty to the monarchy.’
‘And will you remind him of this?’
‘I hope I am too much of a gentleman to do anything so base. But I know the king has not forgotten. As for the rest—never fear, my love,’ he murmured when he saw the anxiety in her lovely eyes.
‘But I do fear, Kit. How I wish I could go with you.’
‘Thank you, my love,’ he said, lightly kissing the tip of her nose. ‘I appreciate your concern for me. But you are forgetting the danger to yourself. When I leave I must know that you are safe, at least.’
‘And what of Thomas Blackwell? Will you see him?’ Serena asked. It had come to their ears that he was in London with Dorothea.
‘No. I doubt anything can be accomplished, only further strife, which I wish to avoid.’
‘But it can’t be concealed how Sir Thomas has maliciously tried to connect you to the Gunpowder Plot.’
A smile lifted Kit’s mouth when he looked down at his wife’s angry little face upturned to his. ‘Try not to worry, my love. Ludovick informed me that since Blackwell encountered the point of my sword, his health has been considerably weakened.’
‘All the more reason for him to want to cause you further harm.’ Serena scowled. ‘I have a good mind to visit Dorothea.’
Kit’s face hardened and his voice lost its warmth. ‘It would be most unwise to go anywhere near your cousin until this business is done with. I absolutely forbid it.’ There was an imperious edge to her husband’s voice which warned Serena that he would not tolerate any disobedience.
‘But as his wife she may—’
‘No, Serena,’ Kit said sharply, gripping her shoulders and forcing her to meet his hard gaze. When she continued to scowl at him, he struggled to control his exasperation. ‘For once in your life you will do exactly as you are told. You will go nowhere near your cousin whilst my mother and I are away from the house. And don’t give me that in
jured look. You are far too stubborn for your own good, and I can see I’m going to have to take a firm stance with you. It’s time you learned submission to your husband and master,’ he said, softening a little, aware of her closeness.
Serena felt her indignation rising. ‘Why, you impudent oaf! Master, indeed! Why, you—’ but she broke off when she saw the glitter in her husband’s eyes, recognising the signs of his awakening desire.
Chapter Fifteen
Ludovick had taken the house in Chelsea close to the river for its sweet air and amenities, but also for quick access by boat to the Palace of Whitehall, which was the method Kit and Lady Mary, accompanied by Robin, used in an attempt not to draw undue attention to themselves. They entered the palace by the water gate, unaware as they did so of the still figure watching them from one of the windows overlooking the river.
Confidently Kit and Lady Mary moved through the colourful, jostling throng of courtiers. Some of the ladies stared in open admiration at Kit’s handsome, tall physique, whilst others who recognised him failed to conceal their disbelief that he dare be so bold or so reckless as to appear at Whitehall, where he was certain to be arrested by the king’s guard.
As soon as Kit gleaned the information that Salisbury was at Parliament House, he did not hesitate in going towards the king’s apartments. Lady Mary left him to reacquaint herself with Queen Anne, urging her son to be guarded and ready to flee if need be.
King James had always liked Kit Brodie, even though Salisbury did not. In the beginning James had listened to accusations against Kit, who was one of his most trusted and loyal courtiers, in disbelief, feeling betrayed and angered beyond words that Kit might have been involved in the evil conspiracy against him. But his anger had been brief, mostly due to Ludovick Lamont having come to plead his cause.
Granting him an audience, James stared at Kit when he entered, at the resplendent man whom Salisbury had insisted had plotted against him.
‘Ah, Kit,’ he said thickly.
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