A Love for All Time (6 page)

T
he golden-red flames from the great fireplace cast their wild shadows all about the chamber in Greenwood House. Upon the great bed two nude figures were entwined in passionate combat. The big man towered over the woman beneath him, imprisoning her neatly between his muscled thighs, thrusting into his partner’s soft flesh over and over again with increasing rapidity until she suddenly shrieked a high-pitched wailing sound, and a moment later both figures collapsed, the man falling away from the woman.

For a long moment only the crackle of the fire could be heard in the room, and then a husky female voice purred, “Jesu, Conn! Yer the best lover I have ever had! I would venture yer the best lover in the entire world. What a pity this will be our last time together.”

Conn O’Malley was surprised. Usually it was he who ended his affairs, and Lettice Knollys wasn’t even really his mistress. She had never been, but they had been attracted to each other ever since he had come to court two years ago. In that time they had engaged in sweet combat any number of times although it had been done secretly, and discreetly for neither Conn O’Malley nor Lettice Knollys had any intention of endangering their hard-won positions in Elizabeth Tudor’s exciting court. Lettice was the queen’s cousin; a far prettier version of Elizabeth, and the queen had always been jealous of her. As for Conn he owed his place in the Gentlemen Pensioners to her majesty who greatly favored him. Elizabeth enjoyed her Adonis, as she had nicknamed Conn, not only for his physical beauty, but his quick tongue as well. No one could pass as pretty a compliment, nor spin as delightful a tale as Conn O’Malley.

“Ye devastate me, Lettice,” he said in reply to her remark. “Have I done something to offend ye, sweetheart?”

Lettice Knollys propped herself up upon an elbow, and looked down on her lover through narrowed amber-gold eyes. “Don’t tell me ye care, Conn?” she murmured.

He chuckled. “I’m curious. In one breath ye tell me I’m the world’s greatest lover, and in the next ye say ye’ll not see me again. ’Tis puzzling, sweetheart, wouldn’t ye say?”

“So ’tis yer curiosity I’ve pricked, Conn, and not yer vanity. What a man ye are! I envy the lady who’ll be yer wife one day.”

He laughed. “I’ve no intention of marrying soon, Lettice. Women are like sweets, and I’m afraid I’ve got a terrible sweet tooth. I’ll not settle down until I’ve sampled all the tasties I can. Now, tell me why ye’ll not be seeing me again?”

“Because I am getting married,” said Lettice Knollys.

“
Married?
I had not heard.”

“ ’Tis a secret, and ye must swear to me that ye’ll not tell anyone.”

“By anyone ye mean the queen. Don’t ye need her permission to wed, Lettice? Yer family.”

“I am a widow, Conn, not some maid in the first blush of youth. Neither I nor my children will ever be any threat to my cousin’s throne, but ye know how she is, Conn. She’ll refuse me permission just to be spiteful.”

“True,” replied Conn who had no illusions about the queen, although personally he liked her.

“Promise me ye’ll say nothing,” Lettice persisted, and bending down she bit at the lobe of his ear.

Reaching up he crushed one of her white breasts in his big hand. “Tell me who the lucky bridegroom is first.”

“Not until ye promise me yer silence,” Lettice said.

“Lettice, what are ye up to?” Conn O’Malley had a sudden premonition of disaster.

“I am not certain now I either should or want to know,” Conn said.

Her pretty face stared down into his, her red hair tumbling about her shoulders. “Conn, please! Yer not just a good fuck, yer a friend, and frankly the only friend I would trust with this information.
I need to tell someone!
” she finished desperately.

He sighed. He had always had a tendency to be softhearted, and her plea touched him. Nay, it flattered him, if he were to be totally honest with himself. “All right, Lettice, I swear I will not reveal either yer plans or the bridegroom’s identity; but I warn ye that if the queen learns of what ye’ve done, and asks me, I shall deny ye ever told me!”

“Fair enough, Conn.” She paused, and then announced dramatically, “I am marrying Robert Dudley!”

“Jesu Christus!” Pushing her away he sat bolt upright in the bed. “I did not hear ye, woman! D’ye understand? I do not hear ye! God in his heaven, Lettice, are ye totally mad? The Earl of Leicester? The queen’s very own beloved? Do ye have a death wish then? Bess will not bring a swordsman in from France to sever yer head from yer shoulders, she’ll wield the bloody ax herself!”

“I love him!” Lettice cried dramatically.

“If ye love him then why are ye here in
my
bed?
Love Dudley
? Only Bess can see anything lovable in that snake! Whether ye’ll admit to it or not, Lettice, yer marrying the queen’s passion in order to spite her!”

“He wants children!”

“Then he’d have been wise not to murder his first wife, but poor Amy Robstart had to be disposed of in order that Dudley might marry the queen. Fortunately for England the man lacks finesse, and caused such a scandal with the deed that even Bess didn’t dare defy the world to wed with him.”

“It was never proven that Robert killed his first wife!” said Lettice Knollys angrily. “He wasn’t even at their home that day, and hadn’t seen her for weeks. She was dying of a canker in the breast, and killed herself rather than suffer any longer.”

“Whatever the truth of the matter is, Lettice, Robert Dudley is Elizabeth Tudor’s personal and private property. If ye marry him ye risk both of yer lives. Bess may not be able to wed him herself, but she doesn’t want him to wed with anyone else either.”

“We’re being married tomorrow, Conn. Robert wants an heir. An heir I am already carrying!”

“He’s got two by Lady Douglas Sheffield if he’d but acknowledge their marriage which she claims took place several years ago.”

“Robert doesn’t love Douglas Sheffield,” Lettice Knollys said smugly. “He loves me! Loves me enough to defy that dragon on the throne to wed with me! Besides, he swears to me that he did not wed Douglas Sheffield.”

“He’s hardly defying Bess if she doesn’t know about it,” Conn observed wryly, “but then Dudley was never one for doing anything straight out in the open.”

“Yer opinion is formed by yer sister Skye,” said Lettice. “She never forgave Robert for casting her aside.”

“Lettice, if ye believe that then yer a bigger fool than I think ye are for even considering to marry the Earl of Leicester. Yer husband-to-be raped my sister while she yet mourned her third husband. The queen knew it, and allowed him to get away with it in order to keep him happy because she yet believed then that she might wed with him herself.”

“I’ll not stay here and hear my betrothed insulted, ye upstart of an Irishman!” Lettice shouted at him indignantly.

“Nay,” said Conn with a wicked smile upon his face, “but ye’ll stay because no one, ye ginger-haired vixen, makes love to ye like I can, and yer right! This is the last night we’ll spend together unless yer widowed quickly. I’ll not fuck Dudley’s leavings, but it delights me that he’ll never know he’ll be fucking mine!”

“Whoreson!” Lettice screamed, and hit him across the face as hard as she could.

He smacked her back, and grabbing at her they wrestled violently across the great bed. “Bitch!” he hissed at her. “Yer nothing more than a bitch in heat, Lettice!”

“And ye, Conn O’Malley, are a bastard with an unquenchable itch! I hope ye never find a woman to satisfy that itch!” She clawed down his broad back.

She was right, he thought, and damn her for it! He adored women, adored making love to them, adored giving them pleasure, and although he never failed to gain a physical release in his lovemaking, he had never yet met a woman who really satisfied him. He had never yet met a woman he could love. Angrily he jammed his knee between her soft, white thighs forcing them to part for him. Brutally he drove himself into her pushing himself as deeply as he could go, ramming into her over and over and over again; wanting to hurt her as her astute knowledge of him had pained him.

Instead Lettice urged him on with moans of white-hot desire. “Ahhh, God’s cock, Conn! Yes! Yes! Yessssss!” She writhed lewdly beneath him encouraging him to give totally of himself. “Fill me full, my wild Irish lover! Stuff me till I burst! Ahhh! God, Conn! ’Tis not enough! Don’t stop!
Don’t!
” She thrust her hips up at him in a rapid rhythm, never ceasing her lustful litany. “Do it to me, Conn. Use me! Ahhhhh! Ohhhhh! Yes! Yes! Yesssssss!” This last word moaned in a pitch that rose in intensity until it was almost a scream, and then Lettice stiffened for a brief second, and he felt her passion break as his own poured into her hot body in fierce staccato bursts that left him momentarily defeated.

Then suddenly Lettice said, “God, I’m going to miss ye, ye randy bastard! Dudley fancies himself a great lover, but Conn, he doesn’t know the half of it!” She laughed throatily down into his face and unable to help himself Conn laughed, too.

“What a hot bitch ye are, Lettice,” he gasped. “Thank God ’tis Elizabeth Tudor who’s queen and not ye!” Rolling off her he slid off the bed, and walking across the bedchamber to a sideboard poured them each a goblet of dark, sweet red wine. He returned to the bed, and handed her one of the two goblets.

“What time is the wedding?” he demanded.

“Just before dawn in my family’s chapel,” she said.

He laughed again. “Yer going from my bed to yer wedding with another man? Have ye no conscience, woman?”

“Of course I do,” she said indignantly, “but what I do before my marriage to Robert is not his business, Conn.”

“I hope ye have reliable witnesses,” he remarked. “Don’t forget that Douglas Sheffield claimed marriage to Dudley, yet the priest could not be found when she sought to have her first child legitimatized.”

“My father, the Earl of Warwick, the Earl of Lincoln, and Lord North are witnessing the marriage which will be performed by our own family chaplain,” Lettice Knollys said smugly. “They are all sworn to secrecy. There will be no doubt as to the honesty of
my
marriage lines, or the legitimacy of
my
children, Conn.”

“I should not have underestimated yer determination, sweetheart,” he answered her.

“What I am determined to, Conn darling, is to have ye at least half a dozen times this night,” she murmured seductively placing her goblet upon the bedside table, and lying back against the pillows.

“Ahh, Lettice love, ye’ve always been overgreedy for the finer things that life has to offer, haven’t ye? I’m not sure we have all that time as much as it saddens me to disillusion a lady.” His finger teasingly encircled one of her nipples.

“ ’Tis just past midnight,” she said, “and it is not necessary that I leave ye till five.” Then she pulled his head down so she might kiss him.

He chuckled deep in his throat. “Lettice, I can but try. It would grieve me deeply to disappoint such a worthy opponent,” and then he gave himself up to her greedy lips.

One minute blended into another as the night progressed, and Conn didn’t even remember falling asleep, but suddenly he found himself waking with a start, and he was alone. The place where she had lain next to him was still faintly warm so she was not long gone. He pulled the coverlet up, and over his big frame, and snuggled down into the warmth. Good Fortune, Lettice, he thought sleepily. Yer going to need it, especially when Bess learns of what ye have done. She’ll not hold her precious Lord Robert responsible, my pet, but rather ’tis ye who will bear the entire blame of this episode. Then he fell back asleep.

When he opened his eyes again Cluny, his body servant, was drawing back the draperies of the bedchamber. “Good morning, m’lord Conn. God grant ye had a good night, and from the looks of ye, ye did.” Cluny’s brown eyes twinkled in his wrinkled face. He had the look of the little people about him.

“How many times have I told ye that I’m no milord, Cluny?”

“Well, ye will be in time, I’m certain.” Cluny always had the same answer for Conn, and Conn usually laughed.

This morning, however, he didn’t feel like laughing. His mouth was dry. His whole body in fact had been wrung dry by his greedy partner of the night before. “Get me some wine,” he groaned. “That vixen nigh killed me.”

Cluny cackled knowingly, and did his master’s bidding, but as he handed him the goblet he gently scolded him. “Ye can’t go on like this forever, wasting yer youth, exhausting yerself on white English thighs, m’lord. ’Tis past time ye were married. Look at yer brothers. They’re all married.”

“Cluny!”
The sharpness of his own voice made him wince. “Dammit, man, don’t be holding up the fine example of Brian, Shane, and Shamus to me. Have ye looked at their women? None of them are much past twenty, and already they’re worn out and faded. Thank ye, no!”