Skye O'Malley: A Love For All Time Part 12

Conn slid easily from his horse, and closing the stable door behind him led his animal to its own stall. "So, madame, ye don't care where I take ye as long as I finish what I start? Is that it?"

"Aye!" She glared at him furiously.

"Come here!"

"What?"

"Come here!" he repeated.

In the dimness of the stable she could see his eyes glittering in what she thought was a rather dangerous fas.h.i.+on. She moved closer to her horse as if for protection, and he laughed softly. "Open the door," she said nervously.

"And let the entire household see me making love to my wife? I think not, Aidan, sweeting."

"Ye would make love to me in a stable?"

Reaching into the stall he pulled her out, and picking her up dumped her most unceremoniously into a pile of hay. "I understand that yer in a hurry, sweeting, and thinking back I realize that yer perfectly right. I'm a d.a.m.ned fool to have ceased so sweet an activity simply to be more comfortable." His hands slipped into her s.h.i.+rt. "We never did b.u.t.ton ye up, did we?" He caressed her pa.s.sionately, his fingers kneading at her flesh until she thought she would scream. He pushed the fabric back, tearing the silk in his impatience, and then his head was lowered and he took a nipple between his lips to suck upon it hungrily. Daintily he nibbled upon it with tiny sharp bites of his teeth, and she moaned with surprise for he had never been rough with her, yet what he did was pleasant for he was not cruel.

"My sweet wife with her outrageously beautiful body," he murmured against her. "I want to bury myself within ye, Aidan! I want to spend a lifetime making love to ye. I adore ye, wench! Do ye understand that? I love ye!" He raised his head and looked into her eyes. "I've never said that to a woman before, Aidan. I've never told any woman until ye that I loved her. Love is too precious a commodity to make light of, my darling." He reached out, and caressed her again.

"d.a.m.n ye, Conn," she said weakly, and with not a great deal of conviction. "I will be treated with respect. I am not one of yer light o' loves, my lord, but G.o.d help me I love ye, too." She pulled his head back down to her so they could kiss again, and as their lips touched in a sweetly searing caress he entered her, filling her with his pa.s.sion. For a moment he rested upon her thighs enjoying the embrace, and then he began to move upon her, slowly at first, then faster in tempo. His heart was pounding with his excitement, and he thought that if he died in that very moment he should count himself fortunate.

How could he do this to her? Aidan's mind blurrily questioned. How could this marvelous man to whom she was married make her feel so incredibly wonderful? Her feelings were a jumble of confusion. She wanted him to go on forever, and yet at the same time the pa.s.sion he aroused in her made her want to bite and claw him. She ran her nails lightly down his long, hard back, and he growled with pleasure in her ear, "Sweet! Sweet!"

She could feel herself losing control as she was swept away into a sea of blinding desire. She soared higher and higher like a hawk riding the whorls of the wind. Deeper and deeper he thrust into her, and all she felt was the rapture he offered her, not the rough straws that mottled her bottom with little scratch marks. Then came the explosion, and she could feel her body letting down its libation of sweetness, crowning the throbbing ruby head of his great manhood, and drawing from it an answering tribute. The horses in the stable s.h.i.+fted nervously as both Conn and Aidan cried out their pleasure, and he fell slowly upon her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with a final groan.

They lay that way upon the pile of hay for several delicious minutes, and then Aidan said, "Conn, get off me! 'Tis well past dawn now, and the stablemen will be coming from the kitchens to attend to their duties ere long. Would ye have them see their master playing the rutting stallion to their mistress' mare in season?"

He chuckled with a contented sound. "Nay, sweeting. 'Tis difficult to keep order amongst the servants if they suspect yer as human as they themselves." He rolled off her, and pulled her skirts down, next seeing to his own dishabille. "Is that how ye see yerself, Aidan? A mare in season?"

She sat up, and relacing her chemise, b.u.t.toned her s.h.i.+rt back up. "I must be," she answered, "for I am certainly shamelessly hot to be possessed by ye, my husband."

He reached over, and pulled several wisps of straw from her glorious hair. Then leaning down he picked up her green silk riband which had come undone in their tussle, and handed it to her. "I find, madame, that I am equally hot to possess ye," he said with a smile, and then standing he drew her up with him. Turning her to face him he kissed her slowly and lingeringly, his mouth working gently and carefully across the sensuousness of her lips.

With a soft sigh she slid her arms about his neck. The tip of her velvety tongue insinuated itself into his mouth, seeking out his tongue. Finding it she stroked it with her own, sending a stab of desire through him once again. Something wonderful had happened, he thought. By the admission of their love for one another all barriers had fallen between them. He had never known her so wonderfully compliant although she had never denied him. Still, it was different now, and he liked it. Their kisses became deeper, more pa.s.sionate, and suddenly by a supreme effort Conn broke off the embrace.

Aidan pouted. "My lord!" she protested.

"I hear the stablemen," he said with a groan, "but did I not, Aidan, my wife, I should tumble ye right back in that pile of hay again."

"Rather ye should think to the sight of yer condition, my lord," she teased him and reaching out stroked the bulge beneath his trunk hose which despite the contours of his clothing was most visible.

"d.a.m.n!" he grumbled, and she giggled as she slipped back into her horse's stall, and pretended she was brus.h.i.+ng down the animal as the stable doors opened, and several stablemen noisily entered.

"M'lady!" They stopped.

"Good morning, Haig," Aidan said to the head stableman, and she nodded pleasantly to the others. "My lord and I have just come in, and finding no one about unsaddled our mounts ourselves. We'll leave the animals to ye now. I wish them given a ration of oats in honor of May Day." Then with a gracious smile Aidan took her husband's arm, and swept from the stables.

They were halfway across the stableyard when a giggle escaped her, and Conn began to laugh himself. "What a courtier ye would make, sweeting."

"I intend to go back to court," she surprised him.

"Ye do?"

"At least once," she said mischievously, "when I am first with child so I may preen and lord it over all those females who so delighted in chasing ye. Would ye mind?"

"Nay." He grinned at her. "I will enjoy showing ye off in proper court clothing, with yer pretty t.i.tties showing, just daring enough to make the gentlemen realize what they lost by losing ye."

"Hah! Ye never noticed me yerself, Conn St. Michael," she huffed.

"Ah, but I did, sweeting. On Twelfth Night when I kissed ye that first time, and yer lips were so incredibly sweet. For a moment I couldn't imagine what a girl like ye was doing at court."

"But in the next minute yer mind strayed to one of those jades ye were forever prodding with yer lance," she accused.

"True," he admitted blandly, and ducked the blow she aimed at him with a laugh. "Yer jealous!" he exulted.

"Of every woman ye've ever known," she admitted ruefully.

They had reached the house, but before they entered he caught her to him, and hugged her. "I'll never stray from yer side, sweeting. That I promise ye. Ours, I believe, is a love for all time." Then he kissed her softly. "Now, sweeting, I'm ravenous for food first, and then yer sweet self once again! Shall we spend the day abed?"

But when Conn and Aidan reached the house, they discovered a visitor waiting. Beal hurried forward to greet them. "There's a gentleman waiting in the Great Hall, m'lord," he said. "He claims to be m'lady's cousin."

Aidan looked confused. "I don't have any cousins," she said. "My father was an only child."

"But yer mother wasn't," said Conn.

"A cousin from Ireland? But I don't even know my mother's family."

"The gentleman does have the lilt of Ireland in his voice, m'lady," Beal volunteered.

They hurried into the house, and seeing them coming toward him Cavan FitzGerald arose from his seat by the fireplace, but before he might speak Conn said, "I am Lord Bliss, and ye are?" Conn's eyes swept over the man who was as tall as he but a trifle thicker set. He did not like the look of him though he knew not why. Perhaps it was his light blue eyes that never quite met his gaze.

"Cavan FitzGerald, my lord," came the reply, and then Cavan swiftly turned to Aidan. "And ye'll be little Aidan, my darling Bevin's child. I bring ye greetings from yer grandlather, Rogan FitzGerald, Aidan."

"Is my grandsire still alive?" she replied. "We heard nothing after my mother's death."

"The old man cannot write," said Cavan. "He used to have my father do it for him, and then when he died he recruited the new priest."

"Ye will forgive me, Master FitzGerald, but I know little of my mother's family, and I cannot place ye at all."

Cavan FitzGerald smiled broadly but the smile did not light his eyes, Conn noted. "Of course, yer confused, little Aidan, and I don't blame ye. Doubtless yer English father preferred ye forget yer Irish relations."

"Not at all, sir," said Aidan frostily. " 'Twas rather a case of my Irish relations not seeming to want anything to do with my mother once she wed with my father. They were happy enough to have him take a dowryless girl, but in all the years my parents were wed though my mother wrote her father faithfully, he wrote her but twice, and both times to ask for money."

Cavan recovered his error in judgment quickly. "Aye, little Aidan, they can be hard people, the FitzGeralds, but Ireland is a harsh land. Ye ask my place within the family, and so I shall tell ye. Yer grandfather had a brother many years his junior. His name was Barra, and he was a priest. I am his b.a.s.t.a.r.d, the child of his hearthmate who died shortly after my birth. I was raised by yer grandmother, Ceara, of the sainted memory. I grew up in my uncle's house, and have spent all of my life there."

"What brings ye to England then?" demanded Conn.

"Uncle Rogan's steward is soon to be retired to his cottage. He's almost as old as Rogan FitzGerald himself. I am to replace him. I have been trained all my life to take his place, but my uncle fears if he dies before I can, his eldest son, my cousin Eamon, will not give me my living. I've come to England to see how yer estates are run here. Perhaps, my lord, ye'd be so kind as to allow yer own steward to show me about."

"Of course," said Conn coolly.

"And he should see Queen's Malvern, too," chimed in Aidan, "and perhaps he can go down to Devon and see Robin's home also. We could arrange that, couldn't we, Conn?"

"I wouldn't want to be an imposition, my lord," Cavan said quickly seeing Conn about to refuse, and cleverly preventing it.

"I would never consider any member of Aidan's mother's family an imposition," Conn replied dryly, "but do ye want to go as far south as Devon, Master FitzGerald?"

"Anything I can learn that will help me to aid and modernize my Uncle Rogan's estates will be all to the good. I owe him a great debt for taking me in, and raising me. All Irishmen are not as lucky as ye are, my lord."

"Aye," said Aidan innocently, "Conn has marvelous luck," then seeing her husband's frown she continued, "but how I prattle on, cousin. I must see Erwina about feeding ye for I've not a doubt yer hungry. Ye must see the rest of Pearroc Royal, and then in a few days we'll visit Conn's sister's home."

"She lives nearby?" Cavan FitzGerald asked.

"Just a few miles across the fields. 'Tis called Queen's Malvern, and 'tis Lady de Marisco's son, the Earl of Lynmouth's estate that ye'll visit in Devon."

"Lady de Marisco?"

"Conn's sister."

"She has a son who is an English earl?"

"Oh yes! Robin's family stands very high with her majesty. His father was a great favorite of the queen, and young Robin is her favorite page, although he will soon be going to France to the university. That is something he wants very much, and his older brothers have both gone. They are a very close family."

Cavan FitzGerald digested this piece of information with interest. He didn't like the idea of Aidan being so attached to Conn's family. He was beginning to realize that although he might be able to carry out part of the Spanish plot, he might not be able to succeed completely. If, however, he was to gain Aidan's riches for himself, he would have to destroy Conn, and his O'Malley brothers. The sister with her highly placed English son might not be so easy, and was, he decided, not worth the trouble. She would be unable to save her brothers for she certainly would have no influence being a woman, and there would be no one to take revenge upon Cavan FitzGerald, or indeed even uncover the plot. Little Aidan was pretty enough although he had seen prettier, and Bevin had certainly been a great beauty; but in the dark a warm c.u.n.t was a warm c.u.n.t no matter the face.

He smiled at the woman he intended to make his wife. "Ye remind me of yer mother," he said warmly.

"I do? How strange as I favor my father," she said.

She was no fool, he quickly realized. He would have to be far more subtle with her. "Not in features," he quickly amended, "but rather in yer mannerisms, the way ye use yer hands, the tilt of yer pretty red head. I was barely breeked when Bevin sailed across the seas to marry the Englishman."

"How old were ye?"

"Just six, but she had been around me all my life. She was like a sister to me, and I cried for days alter she left for it was all so quick, the betrothal arid the wedding coming within a month. There was barely time for the banns to be posted in Ballycoille so the marriage might be celebrated by proxy in Ireland allowing her family to see her marry."

"She was married here in England when she arrived," said Aidan. "The Earl and Countess of Lincoln, she is Elizabeth FitzGerald, our distant cousin, arranged the match, and they came, I am told, to the wedding, the earl giving the bride away himself. It was a great honor."

"Aidan, Erwina will need time to prepare a meal for our guest," Conn reminded his wife, and then as she gave the two men a quick smile and hurried from the room, Conn turned to speak to their guest. "The FitzGeralds live in the south to my memory. Where did ye sail from that brings ye here to the middle of England?"

"I had estate business in Dublin, my lord, and so I sailed from there to Liverpool. I bought a horse there, and since yer on my way to London, I promised my dear uncle I would stop and see little Aidan. He remembers her with great fondness."

"He never laid eyes on her," Conn remarked.

"But the letters his daughter sent to him were so vivid that it was as if he had," was the smooth reply.

"And how are things in Ireland?" Conn asked.

"The same. The English continue to plantation the land with their own people thus displacing us. Nothing has changed."

"There are no plantations in Connaught," said Conn.

"Nay," agreed Cavan FitzGerald. "Yer people have learned how to cooperate with the English. Mine prefer to remain free."

Conn shrugged the insult aside. "One Ireland needs one king, not a hundred, and as long as there are a hundred kings Ireland will remain enslaved. Ye don't understand that, however, do ye? Ye think I'm a traitor to my country because I live here, but in Ireland I was Dubhdara O'Malley's youngest child, landless and worthless. My existence was an aimless one. Here in England I am useful. I have made my fortune."

"By marrying my cousin," said Cavan FitzGerald.

"Nay! I was a rich man before I ever met Aidan, but that is not yer business. I welcome ye to Pearroc Royal as family. See that ye do not abuse the privileges of yer status, Master FitzGerald. If ye do, ye'll have me to settle with. I'm still a Celtic warrior for all the veneer of the English gentleman ye see. Be warned."

Cavan FitzGerald was no fool. What had seemed an easy task when he had first been approached by the Spanish did not seem so simple now.

During the next few days as he wandered about the vast estate he was amazed by Conn's knowledge as Lord Bliss discussed with him rotation o! crops, the details involved in the sale of garden produce, the breeding of stock, the replenishment of the gardens, the household accounts, all of which Aidan had turned over to her husband when they had married. Conn had obviously learned quickly enough so that he had already appointed himself an a.s.sistant, young Beal, the butler and the housekeeper's eldest son, to be his steward. Young Beal was a man in his late thirties, and he had in turn appointed his younger brother, Harry, as gamekeeper.

All the servants were very loyal to their master and their mistress, and the more Cavan FitzGerald saw, the more he realized that like Conn, he would prefer living here in England, in the lap of luxury. Why should he return to Ireland? His uncle wouldn't live much longer, and once his cousins came into their inheritance they would toss him from his precarious perch. His grudging acceptance into the family was only good as long as Rogan FitzGerald lived. Cavan realized now that he was going to have to make his own way in this world.

He would aid the Spanish in the quest to destroy the O'Malleys, or at least the O'Malley brothers. Then he would, after a suitable time, court the grieving widow for he could see that Aidan would mourn greatly. There was no doubt in Cavan FitzGerald's mind that Aidan and Conn were lovers in every sense of the word; but he would make her like him while he remained with them, and then she would be ripe fruit for the plucking when he was ready. He already knew that Conn disliked him, was suspicious of him and of what he was doing in England. Only the fact that he had actually told the truth when he said he had been trained as a steward had saved him.

He was in no great hurry to travel on to London to meet with Miguel de Guaras who was already there, smuggled into England on the deserted Cornish coast. De Guaras' mother had been French, and he would pa.s.s himself off as a Frenchman. Cavan, however, bided his time with Conn and Aidan, attempting to win over his cousin with a mixture of Irish charm and wit. Aidan, delighted to have a blood relative of her own at long last, blossomed with his attentions. She might be a happily married woman, but she was not impervious, she found, to a handsome man, and Cavan FitzGerald was attractive. Not as beautiful as her husband, she thought with pride, but still a handsome fellow with his light blue eyes, and hair which was not coppery like hers, but russet.

She and Conn took him to Queen's Malvern.

"This is my cousin, Master Cavan FitzGerald," Aidan said proudly as she presented him to Conn's family. "And this, cousin, is my sister-in-law, Skye, and her husband, Adam de Marisco." Aidan had her arm through Cavan's and she was obviously pleased to have a relation to present to them.

Skye and Adam had the same reaction to Cavan FitzGerald as had Conn. Instinctively they did not trust him, but they kept silent knowing how important this cousin was to sweet Aidan.

Alone with Skye later that day Aidan had confided to her, "I barely remember my sisters for it has been so long since they died, and they were only babies, after all. Mama's family was never real to me until Cavan came. He tells me stories of all my relations, both living and dead, past and present. I can actually see my mother as a little girl through his eyes! Mama died so long ago, and but for my father I never really had a family. I'm not certain I like my Irish relations for they have never bothered with me, but at least I know them now through Cavan. It's as if I really do have a family thanks to him. I know Conn doesn't like him, but he is so kind to me, and patient that I can't help but be grateful to him. Surely ye understand that, Skye?"

Lady de Marisco nodded, and hugged Aidan rea.s.suringly. "Of course I do, my dear sister, and your cousin is most welcome to bide with us too should he desire."

The smile Aidan gave Skye in return for her generous words touched the older woman. She knew her instincts regarding Cavan FitzGerald were correct, but although she disliked the smooth-talking Irishman, she did not believe he could harm sweet Aidan, and so she held her peace for her sister-in-law's sake.

Cavan spent several days with the de Marisco's steward and realized how rich a country England was just in her land alone. He would be happy here, he decided, and if he could get a son on Aidan quick enough he might even match him with the little de Marisco heiress, and then all of this estate and Aidan's would belong to the FitzGeralds. His family. The dynasty he intended founding!

June came, and Cavan FitzGerald knew he could no longer delay his departure to London. To his surprise Conn and Aidan said they would travel with him, for they had written to Lord Burghley their desire to see the queen, and had only just received permission to come to London. Cavan had suspected long since that Conn eagerly awaited his going, but the timing was perfect. It meant that Conn would be in London as he went about the business of impersonating him. There would be no way in which Lord Bliss could avoid the trap about to be sprung upon him.

"Having ye with me as I travel will make the trip all the more pleasant," he said smiling broadly.

"Ye must stay with us in London, too," said Aidan generously. "We don't have our own home there, but we stay at Skye's house, Greenwood, at Chiswick, on the river just outside the city itself."

Before Conn might protest, however, Caven FitzGerald was declining graciously. "Nay, little Aidan, 'tis most generous of ye to offer, but my plans are already made, and since it is likely to be the only time in me life I ever get to see yer Londontown, I should prefer to stay in its very heart at some bustling inn. I know ye understand, cousin."

Conn almost groaned aloud when Aidan pressed Cavan. "Yer sure, Cavan? I hate to think of ye in some uncomfortable place when ye could be so wonderfully comfortable with us."

"Aidan, staying with ye has been a rare treat for me for although yer grandsire is landed, his home, most of the homes in Ireland, have nothing like the comforts I've seen here at Pearroc Royal, and Queen's Malvern. 'Tis been a rare treat, but the sooner I get back to reality, the better." He laughed lightly. "Yer grandsire will not believe the half of it, little Aidan, and all these years he fretted that he had sent his Bevin into a cold exile."

"I understand just what Cavan is saying," added Conn. "Don't forget, sweeting, that ye've never been to Ireland, and like yer cousin, I grew up there."

"I've never been anywhere until last year when I went to court," chuckled Aidan. "The queen liked to call me her country mouse."