Raven could feel Heath's eyes on her as she poured a goblet of wine and mixed in some of the powdered yarrow, then she came to the bed and moved between his thighs. She dipped her fingers into the wine and cleansed the long, open cut with the astringent liquid. “This will have to do; actually, your face had far too much beauty for a rough Borderer.” She dipped her fingers in the wine and anointed him again. “Death and damnation, the scar will make you even more attractive.”
She felt the bulge between his legs enlarge and harden against her soft belly, and smiled into his eyes. “I have all night to play nursemaid.”
He slid his hands around her to cup her bottom cheeks and rub her against his erection. “We have all night to play, but it won't be nursemaid, my beauty.”
Her gaze turned imperious. “I rescued you, and claim my rights to play whatever games I wish with you. Only when I have exhausted my imagination will I allow you to choose the games.” She cushioned her breasts upon his chest as she put her lips to his ear. “Let us hope that one of them is Gypsy Prince.”
Heath groaned. “You can read my mind.”
Raven heard the servants behind her empty four more buckets of hot water into the tub, and mischievously stayed where she was between Heath's thighs. She noted with satisfaction that he did not lose his erection. When the men left, however, she got up and closed her bedchamber door, then she returned and knelt down to remove his boots. It was a struggle because his feet were swollen, but finally they came off. Then Heath stripped off his breeches. His cock sprang forth from the confining material, and Raven rolled her eyes playfully. “Gypsy Prince indeed!”
She watched Heath climb into the tub wearing only his phallic god stone, and she experienced his pain as he submerged his legs in the hot water and sat with his eyes closed until the excruciating cramps eased from his muscles. Then she lifted off the red dress and torn petticoat and came to the side of the tub wearing only her busk. When Heath opened his eyes he could not tear his glance away from the fetching little garment that nipped in her waist and thrust her tempting breasts upward and outward.
When Raven threw in a luffa and soap, the luffa floated, but the soap sank. As she groped about for it between his legs, she murmured, “I promise to be a most sensual nursemaid.”
Heath lay back in the water, viewing her through narrowed eyes. “What you once told me is true, Raven. Danger does excite you!”
She trailed her fingers up the inside of his leg. “What excites you, ma braw Scot?” She cupped his cock and balls. “Och, it feels like ye have a set o' bagpipes between yer legs. If ye taught me to blow a tune on it, I warrant that would excite ye!”
The skin at the corners of his eyes crinkled with laughter, and in a fair imitation of Ram's accent, he said, “I warrant ye are enjoyin' havin' yer wanton, wicked way with me!”
“Do ye reckon?” She rested her breasts on the edge of the tub and teased, “How about a pair o' round haggis on a platter, or does only Mr. Burque's haggis excite ye?”
In a flash, Heath's powerful hands gripped her about her waist and he lifted her into the water on top of him. When she screamed, he grinned down at her. “Quiet, or yer screams will excite Mrs. Hall. I dinna want tae have tae pleasure both of ye!”
He unfastened her busk and let it drop from his fingers beside the tub. As her breasts spilled onto his chest, he palmed her bare bum cheeks and slid his fingers into the deep cleft. “Heath! Heath!” she cried, wild with excitement. He covered her mouth with his and tasted his name on her lips.
They clung and kissed until the water grew tepid, then Raven recalled that she had promised to bathe him. She reached for the soap and lathered his body, then he pilfered it from her and returned the favor. When she reached beneath his arms and felt the silken hair, she whispered, “I've done this before, in a dream.” When he looked at her quizzically, she said, “Don't feign innocence; you know you have brought me to your bed many times.”
“We are the masters of our own dreams, Raven. If you had not desired me, you would not have come.”
“Conceited devil,” she murmured happily. “Come, the water grows cool, and I've not finished with you yet.”
“I've not started with you.” He helped her from the water, then stepped from the tub. He dried her first. “I've done this before, and not in a dream.”
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. “I remember … I remember everything you have ever done or said to me, Heath Kennedy.” The towel dropped to the floor, forgotten, as she led him to her bed. She pushed him down and he reached for her. “No, no, I want you to lie back so that I can massage your legs.”
It was a novelty for Heath to be pampered, for he had been raised to do everything for himself his entire life. He reclined, folding his arms behind his head, and watched with fascination as Raven, naked, brought the flacon of oil, took out the stopper, and poured some into her palm. The fragrance of almond and something spicy permeated the air. “I smell marjoram,” he said.
“Yes, there is marjoram in the oil, which prevents muscles from cramping; there also is betony to take away the bruising, and all-heal to ease the ache in joints.” She stroked her palms from his ankles to his knees, repeating the long, soothing motion over and over. Then she knelt on the bed and moved her hands up to his thighs. After she had smoothed on the oil, she began to massage and manipulate the hard, knotted muscles with her fingers.
After the pain he had endured in his legs, her ministrations felt heavenly to Heath. “You know as much about herbs as I do, but you have the hands of an angel.” He watched, fascinated, as she bent over him and her hair fell forward to touch and tease his flesh. In the candlelight it looked like ebony silk and fire. “Raven, you are so exquisitely beautiful to me.”
She lifted her eyes to exchange an intimate glance, but her hands never left him. The tantalizing rhythm of her fingers was so seductive, it aroused sensations in both of them that left them breathless with anticipation.
“Higher, the ache is higher.” Fire snaked through his groin, igniting his passionate need to be touched by her.
The corners of her mouth went up playfully, and graceful as a cat she straddled him and sat on his belly with her back to him. Then she carefully positioned herself so that his erect cock lay against her hot cleft. She poured more oil into her cupped palm and stroked down his legs from this new angle. As she moved forward, then back, the friction became a torment that had them both reeling with need.
Heath's hands held her bottom as she moved to and fro. The curve of her back was breathtakingly lovely, and her skin was like cream velvet. Raven was the answer to a lifetime of dreams that he had thought could never be. He loved her with every beat of his heart, and vowed he would cherish her forever. Heath came up from the bed behind her and gathered her in his arms. He shuddered as he weighed her lush, full breasts in his hands, and he felt her shiver as he nuzzled her hair and whispered in her ear, “I love you, Raven.”
He knew that with one driving thrust he could be inside her, unleashing the dark erotic passion she aroused in him, but Heath wanted her facing him, wanted them to look into each other's eyes as he worshipped her with his body. He wanted to drink the sweetness from her mouth and watch her cry out her pleasure. He lay back down and, lifting her, turned her about. He teased her woman's center with his thumb. “Open for me, Raven.”
She knew what he wanted, for she wanted it too. She moved over him on her knees, then slowly, sensually, she took the head of his cock inside her and began to squeeze. The hot, wet pull of her sheath drew him all the way inside her, and she held her breath at the fullness and the pulsing power that made her want to yield not only her body, but her heart and soul to him too.
They both began to move at the same time; he thrust up as she sank down, and their bodies fell into the natural rhythm of the mating dance that had held lovers in thrall since the beginning of time. He whispered intimate endearments: fierce, loving words; soft, tender words; hot, dark, erotic words; promises and vows
that melted her very bones. Raven could not speak, she could only feel. She wanted him buried deep inside her forever.
Raven knew that Heath was a man who would never hurt her, but would cherish her forever. She knew that she could place her life in his hands and he would keep her secure for all time. She yielded everything to him, willingly, generously, showing that she trusted him with her body, especially at this most vulnerable moment when he lay deep inside her. She abandoned herself to him, and was rewarded with a magnificent implosion like a sunburst. They clung to each other as if nothing on earth would ever separate them again, then slowly a delicious languor spread through her and she lay sprawled full upon him savoring the feeling of fulfillment.
They enjoyed the quiet time together, not moving, not talking, yet absorbing each other's essence, as the thirsty earth drinks the rain. Finally he stirred, then rolled until she was beneath him. As a pledge of his love, he took the god stone from around his neck and placed it around hers, so that the phallic symbol lay between her breasts. Then the kissing began. Softly, sweetly, temptingly at first, but soon desire inflamed them as he made love to her mouth with his, just as he had made love to her body. His tongue thrust inside the hot, dark cave in imitation of what he intended to do, if they could ever leave off the clinging and kissing.
She cupped his cheek and sighed, all aquiver at the closeness of their bodies. “Oh, Heath, I forgot the honey. It will keep your wound from leaving a scar.” She reached over the side of the bed and dipped her finger in the honey, but as she brought it to his cheek, he took possession of her finger and slid it into his mouth, sucking off the sweetness.
“I can think of better things to do with honey.” He dipped his own finger into the pot, then anointed her lips and the tips of her breasts, and proceeded to lick off the heather-flavored delicacy with his rough tongue. Their love games went on into the night, as if they would never have enough of each other.
Even in sleep, Raven and Heath touched. They lay curled up spoon-fashion, with his long body curving about her and her dark head tucked beneath his chin. Tonight they had no need for dreams.
In the morning, Raven slipped on a bed robe and went down to the kitchen to prepare them breakfast, then she brought it upstairs and climbed back into the big bed. They fed each other between kisses, laughing like two children who had no cares in the world. Raven brought him one of her father's linen shirts and watched avidly as he dressed. Simply looking at him gave her pleasure.
As Heath pulled on his boots, he said, “I will go and saddle Sully while you pack your bag.”
Raven went still. Then she found her voice, and chose her words carefully. “Heath, I can't go running off.”
“What do you mean?” He looked at her blankly, not comprehending.
“I can't run away with you. I've already done that once to my parents. I have to stay and explain my reasons for not marrying Christopher Dacre.”
“To lowest hell with Christopher Dacre and with explanations! I'm taking you to Eskdale so we can have the priest finish marrying us.”
“Heath, please try to understand. When I ran away from Carlisle, I left a bridegroom standing at the altar. I owe my parents an explanation.”
His eyes narrowed. “Leaving bridegrooms standing at the altar is becoming a bloody habit with you, Raven. I assumed you wanted to wed me.” He stiffened with pride.
“Heath, I didn't say I wouldn't marry you!”
“No, but you didn't say you would either, did you, Raven?” Heath was no stranger to rejection; his earliest memories were laced with it, and it mauled his pride that the woman he had chosen to be his wife might not think him good enough to become her husband. Unable to hide his anger, he laughed bitterly. “It's my own bloody fault for laying my heart at the feet of a fickle female. I deserve my fate!”
“Heath, stop it! I intend to tell my parents all about you. I want them to give us their blessing. I know I can persuade them to accept you, when I explain to them how I feel about you.”
“Persuade them to accept me, a Scots-born Gypsy, for their precious daughter? You are deluding yourself, Raven! I already had a confrontation with Sir Lancelot at the Border Wardens' Court. Do you think I'd give him the chance to look down his English nose at me again?”
“My father isn't like that,” Raven flared. “He is the most understanding, gentle man in the whole world!”
“Ah, now we come to the crux of the matter; he's a gentleman and I am not. They will never in a million years put their blessing on our union. Come with me now, Raven!”
“Why are you being so stubborn and pigheaded about this? Why can't you put yourself in my place and understand that I cannot come with you now? My parents love me and want only what is best for me. I am honor bound to await their homecoming, to let them know that I am safe, and to explain why I want to marry you instead of Christopher Dacre.”
When he heard her say the name of his enemy again, Heath was more than furious, he was livid. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was the most exasperating female he had ever met. “I will never again ask you to marry me, Raven. You have turned me down flatly twice; I will never, ever, give you the chance to turn me down a third time.” His eyes glittered with rage as he drew himself up to his full height. “When you discover that you have made the mistake of a lifetime, and come running after me, it is you who will have to do the wooing, you who will have to do the proposing, aye, and on bended knee!” He bowed stiffly. “I bid you good day, Mistress Carleton.”
CHAPTER 26
When the Revenge dropped anchor in Kirkcudbright, Ram Douglas cautioned Donal Kennedy. “Remember, yer family is in fer a shock. They buried ye last week.”
Donal nodded his understanding, and the two men made their way down the gangplank. The men who were putting the finishing touches on the new wool sheds they had built suddenly stopped what they were doing and began to cheer. Donal waved to them, then he entered the tower castle and began to climb to the first floor. His wife, Meggie, who had just begun to descend the stone stairs, gave a little scream, then flung herself down the rest of the steps, never doubting that Donal would catch her in his arms. He lifted her in a bear hug, high against his heart, and whispered her name.
Meggie immediately buried her face in his neck and began to sob. In spite of his bulk and barrel chest, Donal was ever gentle with his little wife. He stroked her hair tenderly. “Dinna cry, lass, dinna cry … yer tears break my heart, Meggie.” He carried her back upstairs, and Ram Douglas followed on his heels.
When Elizabeth Kennedy saw her son, one hand flew to her throat, the other to her heart. She stood rooted to the spot, hardly daring to believe that her prayers had been answered. Donal set Meggie down, but kept hold of her hand as he walked over to his mother and bent to kiss her cheek. She touched Donal's face to make sure he was real, then she looked over at Ram Douglas with genuine gratitude in her eyes. Elizabeth had never liked the Douglas family and usually avoided them at all costs; now, however, she felt ashamed of her past behavior. “Lord Douglas … Ramsay … I thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
“Nay, Lady Kennedy, all I did was bring him home. Ye have Heath Kennedy tae thank fer Donal's deliverance.”
“He's right, Mother. I was a prisoner in Carlisle Castle—Heath took my place on condition they free me.”
Rob Kennedy, standing quietly in the doorway, heard what Donal said and was humbled by his son Heath's selflessness. He didn't deserve such good fortune. He had been an indifferent, even negligent father to his firstborn, yet his son had always shown him love and respect. Rob intended to make up for the past of course; he had already sent to Ayr for his lawyer so that he could change his will and set things right. Only one thing remained for him to do. Once the family had celebrated Donal's return, Rob Kennedy, Lord of Galloway, would tell them that Heath was his rightful heir.
Duncan, aboard the new ship when the Revenge arrived, came to hear if the Kennedy claim for damages had been accepted at the Border Wardens'
Court. When he walked in and saw that his brother Donal had been resurrected, he felt as if he had received a blow to his solar plexus. He stood mute as he examined his true feelings. Finally he admitted to himself that though he was truly pleased that Donal was alive, nevertheless he was sorely disappointed that he was no longer heir to the Lordship of Galloway.
“Donal, I don't understand why you didn't demand to see Lord Thomas Dacre when you were taken to Carlisle. He was a dear friend of my family before I married your father.”
Everyone in the room looked at her in utter amazement. “Lizzie, it was Lord bloody Dacre who ordered the raid on Kirkcudbright; it was on Dacre's orders that Donal was seized. It was Dacre who ordered my ship an' the Kennedy wool burned. Ye have the daft idea that because he's English, he's a gentleman. Once an' fer all, will ye get it through yer head that he is our enemy?” Rob, purple in the face, was in danger of another seizure.
Elizabeth looked at her husband thoughtfully. “Then I think perhaps you were right in forbidding me to betroth Beth to his son, Christopher. You have a shrewd head on your shoulders, Rob.”
Her husband rolled his eyes at her naïveté, yet he was secretly pleased that she had given him a compliment.
“Join us for dinner, my lord,” Elizabeth invited graciously.
“Nay, I shall take the welcome news about Donal tae Valentina as soon as I give Lord Kennedy a report on the Wardens' Court. Castle Douglas is only a stone's throw up the River Dee, Lady Kennedy; don't be a stranger tae Tina and the twins.”
Ram advised Rob to make out a full claim for all the Kennedy losses and to submit it to the Crown of England. “If ye send the claim directly tae Cardinal Wolsey, the king's paymaster, he'll most likely settle it. King Henry Tudor wants tae preserve the illusion that he desires peace between our two countries.”