‘But you can’t go home only half-dressed.’
‘’Course I can. Who’s to see me? There, you go and take these with you.’ She bundled the heavy skirt, bodice and stays, sleeves and ruff into the maid’s arms. ‘Don’t be late back, Belle. Who is he?’
‘His name is David, only he says it Daveed. He’s French.’
‘One of the French mission to the Queen?’
‘Yes, mistress. You be all right alone? You sure?’
‘Better than I’ve been all evening, Belle. Go.’
Alone, she pulled her cloak closer around her shoulders, sitting down suddenly on a clothes-chest as the room swayed dangerously. Fresh air was what she needed, and sleep.
The door opened, disturbing the beginning of a dream. Her heart sent drumming beats into her throat, but she was immediately defensive. ‘What?’ she said. ‘Advice on how to dress?’
‘Come,’ said Sir Nicholas, holding the door. ‘I’ll see you home.’
‘Why? You think I may have an assignation with Faster Mowler? Fowler. If so, you may well be correct.’
‘There is no assignation and you should be in bed.’
‘Whose?’
‘Can you walk, or shall I carry you?’
She stood up, hearing her words take on a boisterous life of their own. ‘Neither, I thank you. I can carry myself home.’
‘Yes, I’m sure you can. Sooner or later.’ He lifted her heavy hand and pulled gently, and Adorna saw a flicker of surprise as her cloak fell open to show that her full overgown was missing.
Wearily, she pulled the cloak back into place, snapping at his helping hand. ‘No more than you’ve seen already, and no different from all the others.’ Walking without legs was something new to her, although she placed the experience together with all the others of that unforgettable evening. The shock of the cool night air reeled like gunpowder through her head, making her clutch at the door-frame as they passed from the Queen’s Apartments into the covered walkway surrounding the royal garden.
She felt his arm go around her, supporting, and the events of the evening fell about like skittles in her mind while her body responded in the only way it knew how, instinctively and uncontrolled. Blindly, she turned to him, reaching up with her hands to search him in the darkness, understanding the reason for his hesitation but knowing that here she could taunt him and take his response in private without the act she had been forced to adopt before the Court. Here, she could fight him with knives unsheathed and be damned to the consequences.
Holding his head only a whisper away from hers, she whipped him with her scorn, oblivious to the danger. ‘So what was all that about the lungeing-rein, Sir Nicholas? You think you can school every filly, do you? Well, sir, I believe you might have bitten off more than you can chew this time, because I don’t stand around waiting for—’
His hesitation was shorter than she had predicted before his mouth closed over hers, the scathing words she had just delivered wiped from her memory in a ravenous avalanche of kisses that buried them for ever. She was never able to recall what she had said to provoke him, only that it might have seemed that he was waiting for just such a provocation.
The loss of her words was nothing to her gains in other respects for, despite her taunts that she was equal to his experience, she had no idea what she was talking about except kisses and mild caresses of the kind she and her gossip-friends had giggled over. Going to bed with a man, according to their information, was what some unmarried women did, but exactly what this entailed was still something of a mystery, and the sex acts they had witnessed between animals could surely bear little relation to humans.
But now her body burst into flame at his touch, urging her to press herself against him while revelling in the hard restraint of his arm across her back, the width of his shoulders, all those details she had unwillingly watched this evening while hating his strength, his mastery, his arrogance.
In the enclosing darkness, she was only dimly aware of being lifted into his arms and laid upon the pine bench that lined the walls, their cloaks beneath them. His weight lay half over her, his legs heavy upon her own sending new shockwaves upwards through her body as the imprint of every contour made its way through the soft linen of her kirtle. His mouth came again to hold hers captive while his hand moved carefully over her embroidered chemise, coming to rest, at last, over her breast.
‘No!’ She pulled her head aside, breaking his kiss and expecting the amazing sensation to stop. ‘No,’ she gasped, when it did not.
His lips stayed in contact with hers, just short of a kiss, just close enough for her to expect it at any moment. ‘Steady…steady,’ he whispered. ‘It’s all right…steady!’ Moving his hand over the full roundness, he kept her lips waiting and her awareness flitting between hand and mouth. Then, as she stilled, he slipped his hand beneath the fabric while claiming her mouth just as a gasp filled her lungs, ready to protest again. The shock turned to a moan of ecstasy and the hand that had grabbed at his wrist slackened its hold, allowing him to explore, softly, slowly, tenderly raking her nipple as his lips nibbled hers. She gave a cry, unaware of its precise meaning. ‘That’s good,’ he whispered. ‘Very good. Now, what else are you going to teach me, eh? About this…?’
Her breathing quailed under his hand that plotted the next unfamiliar warm voyage across the skin of her ribs and stomach, sliding over her hips and making her cry out again with the unbearable suspense of it. ‘No,’ she whispered, meaning yes. Reaching up with her free arm, she slipped her fingers into his hair and pulled his head down to meet hers, her words and needs no longer in unison. His dizzying kiss made her moan with desire, but she heard it only from a distance, like the denials she had voiced since their first meeting, fading at his command.
‘More?’ he said. ‘This is but the beginning.’ His lips moved downwards on a different course over her neck and breast, straying across to her other side to torment her nipple with his tongue and teeth, taking her hand and holding it firmly away as she writhed and arched, pinning her down. ‘Now, my beauty,’ he said, kissing the taut skin, ‘is there something else you wanted to show me? What was it you had in mind, back there, that I haven’t a ghost of a chance of getting? Eh?’ His deep voice vibrated across her lips.
But a slow and exquisite ache that began somewhere in her thighs had now centred in a mysterious place, telling her that things were happening that she could never have dreamed of, that she had started something of which she had never been in control from the start, that he had the power to mould her with his touch. As to what she had meant by her riposte, her mind was a blank as she shook with the impact of her own body’s responses. She was silent and trembling as his teasing hand made a slow and inexorable progress over her breast and stomach, reaching down until it came to rest on the soft mound between her legs. By which time he had claimed her lips once more with a kiss that was intended to make protests difficult, but not impossible.
However, he was more aware than Adorna that some kind of protest was necessary, for although he intended that she should remember this first chastening lesson, there would be far better times and places to continue it when her senses would be clear instead of dulled by wine. Her contrariness had served his purpose well, but she would blame herself as much as him for this memorable episode before she would be tempted to return for more.
‘Well?’ he said, caressing. ‘Have you remembered?’ When she made no answer, he understood that she was already on the verge of surrender and so, to provoke her, he tightened his grip on her wrist and shifted his weight.
‘No…no! Please…don’t!’ Her voice shook itself into a whisper, full of the premonition that, whatever his next move was to be, it was up to her to make him understand that no matter whether this was what he did with other women, he could not do it with her. She could not have said why, having no experience to go on, but the certainty was there.
Instantly, he withdrew