LIBERTINE in the Tudor Court: One Night in Paradise / A Most Unseemly Summer. Juliet Landon

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СКАЧАТЬ for them.’ She walked on, smiling until the doors closed quietly behind her.

      Sir Nicholas placed a hand on the small of her back, continuing from where he had left off. ‘No,’ he replied to her facetious question. ‘Anyone who can converse so clearly with the Sovereign after as much neat wine as you’ve had needs no instructions from me. Even if it was nonsense.’

      ‘It was not nonsense, sir, it was…’

      ‘Yes, it was. You are ready for a man.’

      ‘Now who’s talking nonsense? You know as much about that, sir, as you know about fishing. Nothing at all. I bid you goodnight.’ She kissed several friends on the way to the door, as was usual, but Sir Nicholas was not one of them. Indeed, she was relieved to find herself at last in the peace of the tiring-room where only Maybelle and a handsome young man were having a quiet conversation in a dimly lit corner. The clothes were all in order, and her own garments had been laid out ready for her. The young man bowed courteously and left. ‘Is he waiting for you, Belle?’ Adorna asked.

      ‘Yes, mistress.’

      ‘Then just help me out of this thing and into my kirtle and chemise. If I throw that cloak around me I’ll not look any different in the dark. Get your young man to go home with you and take my other things at the same time. I’ll slip through the palace garden as soon as I’ve gathered my wits together.’

      ‘Didn’t you enjoy it, then, after all? Lift your arms.’

      ‘Slip it downwards, Belle. No, I didn’t. And my head’s reeling. I need to sit still a moment.’

      ‘Too much wine?’

      ‘Too much everything.’ Her tongue’s usual agility had begun to fail her, suddenly. ‘Hurry up. No, leave my loos and shippers.’

      ‘Stockings and slippers?’

      ‘Tha’s what I said. Now, get me into my…there, that’ll do.’

      ‘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 СКАЧАТЬ