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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: Besieged
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“Because I am experienced, sweetheart,” he told her, “and while you may be a passionate creature, you’re no wanton, Fortune.”
“But I don’t want to be a virgin any longer!” she wailed.
“You won’t be in a few days,” he told her.
“Are you being soothed?” she inquired, her hand caressing him, and realizing that she was becoming curious again.
“Aye,” he grinned at her.
“Well, I could use some comfort too, Kieran Devers!” Fortune told him. “Isn’t there a way to pleasure me without spoiling our wedding night? There must be
something
you can do.”
His eyes twinkled. “How brave are you, Fortune?”
“I don’t know,” she told him.
“Lie still and trust me, lambkin,” he said softly. He turned onto his side, and one hand reached out to touch her Venus mont again. He began caressing it with teasing fingers in a provocative manner.
Fortune closed her eyes, half-afraid, but determined to learn exactly what he was about. His touch began to engender ripples of excitement within her. She squirmed slightly, unable to help herself, but forcing herself to concentrate on the sensations he was loosing. A single finger began to stroke at the slit between her nether lips. It pushed between the tender folds of pink flesh, and Fortune tensed.
“It’s all right, sweetheart,” he promised her.
“Trust me.”
Fortune made herself relax, but then she suddenly gasped as he touched her in what was apparently the most sensitive spot on her entire body.
“Kieran!”
she managed to gasp.
“It’s called your love button,” he told her. “Touched in just the right way, it can give you extraordinary pleasure.” His finger flicked back and forth over the swollen nub of flesh. “Do you find it pleasurable, Fortune?”
“Ohhh, yes!”
It was wonderful. Why hadn’t he introduced her to this delight before? A frisson of enjoyment washed over her. This was heavenly. She murmured softly as the pleasure broke over her like a wave, and then gasped once again as the digit, only recently teasing at her, suddenly penetrated her.
“Ohhhh!”
The finger began to move back and forth within her.
“Ohhh! Oh! Oh! Yesss!”
He bent and kissed her just as she peaked. His tongue found hers, stroking it fervently. The kiss deepened, and he thought he might explode with his own desire for her. He would not take her until she was his wife, but dear heaven, it would be difficult!
“I’m not afraid anymore,” Fortune said, pulling her head away, from his. “I don’t want to wait, Kieran.
Please!”
He withdrew his finger from her wet sheath. “No, lambkin, not until we are properly wed will I properly bed you.” He kissed her gently, avoiding the disappointed look in her blue-green eyes.
Fortune rolled away, putting her back to him. “I hate you!” she muttered. “I don’t think I want to marry you at all, Kieran Devers!”
He looked at her delicious little rump, and unable to help himself fondled it. “Having tasted your charms, lambkin, I don’t intend letting you get away now,” he told her. “In just a few more days you and I will be man and wife, and then, my darling, I will satisfy all your naughty little desires, and even some you don’t know about yet.” He gave the tempting rump a little smack.
Fortune rolled back onto her back again, glaring up at him. “I suppose you want me to go back to my own chamber now,” she grumbled.
“I think it might be a good idea. Try not to awaken Rois. She’ll be very shocked, I fear. You understand why I’m doing this, don’t you, Fortune?”
She shook her head in the negative. “Why?”
“ ’Tis an old custom to hang the bloody sheet from the wedding bed out the following morning for all the neighbors to see that the bride was indeed pure. Tomorrow at Mallow Court Lady Jane will proudly display the soiled linen that lay beneath Willy and his bride. ’Tis not a custom she likes, but she knows it is expected, and gossip would surely ensue if that bloody sheet didn’t fly. I want no one, especially my foolish brother, saying that you were not as pure as the vaunted Emily Anne on your wedding day. I don’t want to have to fight my brother, because if I fight him, I will kill him. And I will be forced to it if he ever slanders you again, Fortune.”
Reaching up she drew his head down to her breasts. “I don’t want Willy’s death on my conscience either,” she said. “I would never allow you to be put in such a position, Kieran.
But,
if your little brother slanders me again, I will kill him myself, and my conscience be damned!”
Startled by her tone he sat up, and looked at her. He could see she was most serious.
“I’m an excellent swordswoman,” Fortune explained.
Kieran Devers laughed aloud. “You’ll never bore me, lambkin,” he said. “Now, put something on that luscious body of yours, and go back to your own chamber. You did wear something, didn’t you?”
With a mischievous grin Fortune arose from the bed, and walking across the bedchamber opened the door, closing it behind her as she disappeared out into the darkened hallway.
“Jesu!” he swore, and then he laughed all the harder.
Chapter
10
“S
tand still, m’lady,” Rois pleaded with her mistress as she brushed Fortune’s long red-gold hair.
“I don’t see why I must wear my hair all long and flowing,” Fortune grumbled. “Emily Anne certainly didn’t when she married Will.”
“The English don’t follow proper customs,” Rois sniffed.
“I’m partly English,” Fortune reminded her maidservant.
“That may be,” Rois replied quickly, “but you were raised by a Scots father, and he knows what’s right as does your mam. Now stand quiet for a moment longer while I get these last tangles out.”
Fortune remained silent now, letting her eyes wander to the glass to gaze at her reflection. It was her wedding day. Her garb couldn’t have been more fashionable than if she were being married in London at the court. While low, square necklines were still the mode in Ireland, her neckline extended low on the shoulder which Fortune found far more elegant. The gown was a rich golden brown velvet with a creamy draped lace collar. Her sleeves were divided by gold ribbons into two paned puffs, the upper sleeve being decorated with topaz-colored paste buttons that rivaled in quality the semiprecious stones after which they were fashioned. The cuffs of her sleeves were double ruffles of lace, and a gold silk galant tied at the side encircled her waist. The underskirts showed through the opening of the gown, a spiral motif of gold thread on a creamy silk taffeta. The skirt fell in simple folds with its fullness towards the back. Fortune’s stockings were golden-colored silk, and her shoes were decorated with pearls. In her ears she wore pear-shaped pearls that seemed to have a gold tint, and matched the long strand about her neck that fell onto the bosom of her gown.
“There!” Rois’s voice broke into her thoughts. “You surely have the most beautiful hair, m’lady. It seems to have a life of its very own. Are you excited?” Rois’s bright eyes danced with her own anticipation of the wonderful day to come. “He’s a handsome devil, Master Kieran, and”—she lowered her voice—“the lasses who know say he’s a grand lover. All fire and yet tender too. How have you been so patient, m’lady?”
Fortune laughed weakly. “It hasn’t been easy,” she told her servant. “I think I’ve wanted to lie with him since the first moment I saw him even if I couldn’t admit it to myself.” She sighed lustily.
Rois giggled. “You’ll gain your heart’s desire tonight, m’lady, and come the morrow your mam will fly the bedsheet proudly for all to see.” She sniffed audibly. “We’re all so happy for you! You came to Ulster to find your love, and you did! I’ll surely miss you when you’re gone back to England, m’lady,” Rois told her mistress.
Surprised, Fortune turned to look at her servant. “But I want you to come with me,” she said. “I couldn’t do without you, Rois.”
“I cannot leave my Kevin,” the girl answered.
“Then the two of you must be wed, and he shall come too,” Fortune said. “There will be far more opportunity for you both with us in the New World than there is here in Ireland, Rois. Your Kevin is good with the horses, and it is said the part of the Americas to which we are going is a fine place for horses. I intend taking a goodly number of the beasts with us. Kevin shall have charge of them. Isn’t that better than waiting around for Rory Maguire to grow too old? I doubt he ever will,” she chuckled.
Rois’s pretty face was thoughtful. To be able to marry her sweetheart sooner than later was an enticement to be sure. She wasn’t certain she was brave enough to travel all the way to the New World, but if Kevin was by her side she believed her courage would quicken. “I’d have to ask Kevin,” she said slowly. “ ’Tis a fine offer, m’lady.”
The door to the bedchamber opened, and Jasmine entered. “Let me see how you look,” she said. “Ahhh.” Her turquoise eyes filled with sentimental tears. “You are beautiful, poppet,” the duchess of Glenkirk told her youngest daughter. She sat down heavily upon the bed. “I do not know where the years have gone,” she lamented almost to herself. “It seems like only yesterday you were born here at Erne Rock. Rowan would be very proud of you, Fortune. I know it in my heart.”
Fortune half bent, and embraced her mother, her own eyes damp. “I am so happy,” she said softly.
The duchess patted her daughter, and then said, “Rois, go and tell them down in the hall that we will come shortly. You remain, child. There is no need for you to come back upstairs again.”
“Yes, my lady,” Rois said, curtsying, then closing the door behind her as she departed. She was no fool, and wondered what it was the duchess wanted to impart privately to her daughter. They had already spoken on a wife’s marital duties, Rois knew.
“Why did you send Rois away?” Fortune asked.
“Because what I have to say is for you alone,” her mother replied. “For over a month now Rohana has, each morning, been bringing you a cup of what she has called her strengthening posset. The liquid you have drunk has nothing to do with strength, Fortune. It is a recipe, given to your great-grandmother, Skye O’Malley, by her sister, Eibhlin, the physician nun. It is to prevent the conception of children. I did not want you going to the altar today with a secret in your belly.”
Fortune blushed beet red, her fair white skin growing mottled with her embarrassment “We didn’t . . .” she began.
Jasmine laughed. “I know,” she said. “He is a very stubborn young man, isn’t he? And honorable as well. Still, a wee bit of precaution didn’t hurt,” she told her daughter. “Now you are to marry Kieran Devers. I know you will both want children, Fortune, but if you will accept my advice, do not have them until you have left Ireland far behind. I do not trust the Deverses, for Sir Shane, poor man, desires peace at any price. William still believes himself in love with you which makes him a dangerous enemy despite his marriage. Lady Jane will yet covet Maguire’s Ford despite the fact I have given it to my two youngest sons. I wrote to your brother, the duke of Lundy, a month ago to speak to the king regarding Maguire’s Ford, and to have him confirm Adam and Duncan Leslie’s rights to it.
“Only yesterday I received a missive from him saying the king had agreed, and that the new patent was being drawn up, but it will probably not be here before the spring. Until such time as I can publicly display that document, I believe the Deverses, mother and son, will use our lack of legal proof as an excuse to harry us, and cause difficulty because of your marriage to the Catholic Kieran. We must protect Maguire’s Ford, and all its people, both Protestant and Catholic, from the fanatics, Fortune. Your father was murdered by one such, and they have not changed in the years since. Fanatics never change. I should send you and Kieran to England now, but I am selfish. I want you by my side a bit longer. When you depart for the New World, it is unlikely we shall ever meet again, my daughter. Besides, the autumnal winds have begun to blow from the north, and crossing to England or Scotland would be dangerous now,” she reasoned.
“I would stay with you as long as I can, Mama,” Fortune replied, “and I agree with you that now is not a good time for me to have a child. Kieran, of course, shall not know. I suspect Papa never did, and ’tis better that way, isn’t it?” She smiled mischievously at her mother.
Jasmine nodded. “You were ever my practical child,” she said fondly with a small smile. She hugged Fortune warmly. Then she arose. “Let us go downstairs, poppet. Father Cullen is waiting to marry you in private before your most public marriage ceremony, which is to be performed by the Reverend Steen. Rohana will continue to bring you your posset each morning, and when the time comes for you to leave us, she will give you the recipe, and the ingredients. You must decide if Rois should eventually know, or not.”
“Why did you cease taking the potion, Mama?” Fortune asked.
Jasmine placed her palms over her large belly, and smiled. “I thought I was past babies growing in my womb,” she said with a chuckle. “My Jemmie and I have enjoyed a generous and bountiful bedsport for two years now without any restraints. Bride Murphy tells me, however, that this can happen to a woman at my time of life. I shall be more careful in the future, I promise you. I had forgotten how hard it is to carry a child the nearer one gets to its birthing. This last sibling of yours is an active creature.”
Mother and daughter descended the narrow stairs to the main floor of the castle. There in a small room off the hall Fortune Mary Lindley and Kieran Sean Devers were married in the rites of the Holy Mother Church. Father Cullen then absolved Kieran of the sin he was about to commit by being publicly married again, this time by the very Protestant Samuel Steen, in the little stone church that served the village’s non-Catholic population, fast becoming the majority in Maguire’s Ford. All the Catholics who would be attending the ceremony had been previously absolved, and Cullen Butler, his priestly vestments put aside, joined his cousin, Jasmine, and her family, for the happy occasion, dressed in a very fashionable black velvet suit.
Fortune walked through the village on her stepfather’s arm. Her mother followed in a pony cart along with the priest; Rory Maguire, and Bride Duffy, in her best gown, strode proudly along behind their godchild. The church was filled to overflowing. Sir Shane, his daughter, Lady Colleen Kelly and her husband were in a front pew. Behind him sat Molly Fitzgerald, and her two daughters, Maeve and Aine. If any thought it odd, those thoughts were kept to themselves.
The bride was led up the aisle by the duke. One slender hand rested upon his arm. In the other she carried a small bouquet of creamy, late roses tied with golden ribbons. The Reverend Samuel Steen smiled upon the young couple. There was, after all these years, hope for Kieran Devers. His bride, schooled properly by her parents, would lead him safely into the right church at long last. He would be saved from the wicked and sinful ways of the papists. Love could indeed move mountains. Inspired by this happy turn of events, his rich voice intoned the words of the Anglican marriage rite, the elegant language rising to fill the church. Well-schooled, the bridegroom spoke his part in a calm, clear voice. Even the beautiful bride’s voice was heard quite distinctly throughout the church.
Finally they were pronounced man and wife. Kieran Devers took his wife into his strong arms, and kissed her heartily. The church erupted into cheers. Samuel Steen smiled, well pleased by today’s turn of events as he watched the happy couple hurry back down the aisle, followed by the duke and duchess, Sir Shane, Lady Colleen, and the others, even that wanton Fitzgerald woman, who despite her licentious behavior seemed to have raised two decent daughters, for all they were Catholics.
The day had been unusually fair, and the sun shone brightly upon the newlyweds. The village had been invited to the wedding feast in the hall. Archery butts were set up in the castle courtyard as well as bowls. In a small field outside on the lake, a group of young men began a rugged game of wind ball, using the inflated bladder of a sheep for their ball.
In the hall tables and benches had been set up below the high board which sat upon a raised dais. The smell of roasting beef and lamb filled the hall. Platters of salmon, trout, ducks, and geese were passed. There were fresh trenchers of bread at every place as well as polished wooden spoons. Game pies, steaming hot and rich with winey gravy, were offered. Roasted capons stuffed with fruit, and broiled rabbit were set out. There were bowls of carrots, peas, and braised lettuces. Sweet butter and fine cheeses were on all the tables. Those at the high board drank rich wine from Archambault. The other guests were well pleased with the casks of brown October ale and cider.
The old bard who had come into Erne Rock’s hall some months prior had remained. His days of wandering were over, and he now had a permanent home. He entertained the guests with his songs and tales of an Ireland past that had been filled with giants, fairies, glorious deeds of honor, and great battles. He played upon his well-worn harp, and when he tired, a piper took up a tune. Soon all were well fed, and many pleasantly drunk. Toast after toast was raised to the happy couple. The tables were pushed back against the walls, the piper joined by musicians who played upon flute, cornet, and drums; and the dancing began. Because the guests were mostly country folk, the dances were those most familiar to them: the rounder, the jig, and the somewhat slow and melancholy dump. Many of the women were eager to dance with the bridegroom, but the bride did not lack for partners.
The sun set early, it being October. The fires in the hall burned high. The bride and her groom were suddenly gone. The guests, well-fed and filled with good ale, slowly staggered out, thanking the duke and his wife for a fine time. The family sat by the fire talking together. Lady Colleen had not seen her half-sisters in many years. Now she regretted having been put in the difficult position of having to choose between them and her stepmother. These two younger women were her blood kin, and that had meant something once in Ireland.
“It’s too dark now for you to return home,” the duke noted to Sir Shane. “You’ll stay the night, of course.”
Sir Shane nodded. “Aye. Jane will not fret as I’ve stayed away before, and she thinks Colleen gone home to Dublin with Hugh, but my son-in-law is every bit the rebel Colleen is, aren’t you, Hugh?”
Hugh Kelly grinned cheerfully. “Aye, Da,” he agreed. “Nonetheless, we’ll be on the road to Dublin tomorrow, and ’twill be awhile before we’re back. I can only imagine how put out Lady Jane will be when she learns of this rather unique gathering to celebrate the marriage between Kieran and Fortune.” He chuckled. “You’ll be taking the brunt of her anger, I fear, Da.”

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