The Pleasure Garden: Sacred Vows\Perfumed Pleasures\Rites of Passions (4 page)

“That pleases you?” He glanced up at her with a raised brow and an ornery grin.

“Aye, and you are wearing far too many clothes.” She
tugged the gown from each arm and let it pool around her feet.

She watched him take her in as she stood in the moonlight. Cara had never been naked in front of anyone but her ma and her sister. She was unprepared for how deliciously wicked it made her feel to have this man’s heated gaze on her.

She stepped forward and, licking her lips, helped to draw his shirt over his head. She pressed her body to his, hugging him tight, lifting her face for another of his blistering kisses.

“Do not move.” He quickly fluffed up the straw and covered it with the old blanket, then turned and eased his brocs down his muscular legs. He stepped from them and looked at her.

He was beautifully built, his body young, muscular, solid as stone. And his enlarged cock…here in the bright moonlight, she could see it jutting proud from his finely honed body. He held his hand to her and she went willingly, unashamed of their nakedness, taking what he offered in his tender kisses, his whispered words. He held her hand and she lay back on the blanket, looking up at him, her heart full of how Mother Earth had smiled on her tonight. He dropped to his knees, covering her body with his, and Cara melted into him. Fervent sighs, hot wet kisses… Cara grew dizzy, unable to get enough of him. She rolled him to his back and knelt over him. He grinned, capturing her breast with one hand, and with the other found the spot between her legs that nearly left her undone. She looked at him with a fierce need, feeling his velvet tip near her entrance, and held his hardened length, sliding him into her heat until he filled her entirely. Cara pressed her palms to his chest, the gooseflesh of anticipation rising on her bare
skin. The sensation was glorious, freeing, and she cupped his face, kissing him soundly, and then straightened, drawing her arms over her head, delighted yet again in being with him.

“You are more beautiful than any May Queen,” he said, caressing her thighs. His hands guided her hips, moving them forward and then back until she captured the natural gait. Reality blurred. Her throat dry, she looked down at him watching her, and smiled as another tear escaped from her eye.

“My beautiful Cara,” he sighed. His brow crinkled and he closed his eyes, lifting his hips, slowly pushing deep. “My sweet, beautiful Cara.”

Frosty and pale was the moonlight washing over their bodies. Cara did not know what the dawn would bring, only that the gods and goddesses had given them this moment. With a soft cry, her body surrendered to her release, and soon after, Edmund followed.

She lay exhausted across him, hearing the beat of his heart. He stroked her hair, her back, and kissed the top of her head. Neither of them spoke. Finally, Cara rested her arms on his chest and looked into the eyes she swore the universe had fashioned just for her pleasure. She took note of his face up close, the gentle look in his gaze, the scar that creased his brow. She’d never felt this way in her life, so whole, so complete.

“Edmund? Edmund, are you in there?” A loud voice boomed from down below. “There was an old man out here, though for the life of me, I cannot find him now. He described you and said you’d been here, along with a young woman. Well done, Edmund. That is, if you’re not cowering in there alone.” Raucous laughter followed.

Edmund shifted, lifting Cara from him, and began to
put on his clothes. “He’s drunk. I better go to him before he makes a scene and gets us all killed.” He pulled on his brocs. “He can be a bit of an ass, but it’s his nature to be slightly pompous.”

“This is your friend that you came with?” she asked, searching for her other slipper. Edmund reached down and plucked her shoe from the shadows, dangling it from his fingers as he offered it to her. He pulled it back just as she reached for it, and leaned down, placing a tender kiss on her mouth swollen from his kisses.

“Time to go home, my friend. Dawn is not far off and the guards will be changing soon,” Gregory called out quietly.

In haste, Edmund helped to tighten the lacing of Cara’s gown. She sensed his concern. “Do you regret what has happened between us, milord?” she asked, her stomach beginning to knot with worry. Could she have misread the look in his eyes?

“Not one moment.” He turned her to face him, and clamped his hands around hers. “Do you?”

“Nay, Edmund.”

“I like hearing you say my name.” He kissed her again.

She pulled her hands from his. “But in truth, what future do we have? You know as well as I do the English law put in place to keep our people apart.”

“It is a ridiculous law,” Edmund fumed.

He hurriedly drew his tunic over his head. “I will think of a way to make this work, Cara. Until then, promise me that you will wait for my return.”

She looked at his pleading eyes. “Edmund.”

He held her face, kissing her and then drawing her so close she could scarcely breathe.

“There is no question now. I will speak to my father. I
will make him understand. Things have changed, Cara. They will have to listen to me. I am a man now. I can make my own choices.”

She knew what it would be like in her family were she to her approach her father in a similar fashion. There would be no discussions, no compromises. Was his father any different?

“We will make an oath, one to another. If you feel as I do, Cara, then let this be our private handfasting.”

She knew that he wanted things to be different, but the truth was that he would have to leave her on this side of the barricade, leave her here in the private world they’d created. Edmund rested his cheek on the top of her head. “You’ll wait for me then? By your oath?”

He did not pause for her answer. “Come, I want you to meet the one man who will have no quarrel about us being together.” He tugged on her hand.

She held her ground, pulling her hand from his. “I have not given you my word, Edmund. Besides, what is he talking about? What does he mean about the guards?”

Edmund turned back, clamping his hands on her shoulders. “There is nothing fret over. It’s only a few villagers placed along the barricade. They nap most of the time.”

“Perhaps it is not wise that your friend know we’ve been together—at least for now.”

Edmund grinned. “Gregory can be trusted. I want you to meet him. He is my dearest friend.” He grabbed her hand, pressing his lips to her palm. “If you can see past his drunken state, he is a good man.”

She followed him out of the tower to the garden gate. When he yanked it open the mask rocked precariously on its narrow peg.

His friend, Gregory, stood on the other side, dangling
a wineskin over his face, aiming for his mouth. The red liquid ran in rivulets down his chin. With a bleary-eyed start, he lowered the skin and wiped his jaw with his sleeve. He gave them a slobbery grin.

“So it is true. There you are, with your lady fair, Sir Edmund. I trust the two of you have been discussing politics?” His eyes roamed over Cara, visually feasting on her from head to toe. Edmund drew her protectively to his side.

“It is true we should be getting back, but if Ed mund…”

Gregory reached out, brushing his hand over Cara’s arm. “I might be persuaded to find time for one more frivolous rite before taking our leave. The name is Gregory, milady.” He bowed, stumbling awkwardly toward them. Edmund caught his shoulder and righted him, with a gentle nudge pushing him away from Cara. Gregory eyed the two, his mouth lifting in a smug grin.

“Perhaps, Edmund, we should let the lady decide what she prefers?”

“Now you’ve gone too far, Gregory.” Edmund lowered his head and drove it into his best friend’s gut with full force, knocking them both to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

Cara watched in horror as the two men flailed their fists blindly at one another, now and again making contact with a loud smack. “Stop it, please, before one of you gets hurt.” She grabbed Edmund’s tunic, tugging with all her might. Finally, he pushed to his feet, bringing a weary Gregory with him, then took one last swipe across Gregory’s jaw, sending him to his backside.

“Have you gone mad?” the man shouted angrily, rubbing his jaw.

Edmund grabbed Cara’s hand and dragged her through
the trees to the open glen. The labyrinth was covered in a fine morning mist; the silvery gray dawn was beginning to light the sky. He pulled her close, wrapping her in a warm embrace. She wanted to tend to his wounds, to check his eye, which was beginning to swell now from contact with Gregory’s fist. He shook his head as she ran her fingers delicately over his face.

“I must take my leave. But I promise you this—I will return.”

He cupped her cheek, kissing her with such certainty that she almost believed him. She fisted his shirt in her hands, memorizing his taste, his scent.

“Come on, then,” a voice stated. It was Gregory, a sullen expression on his bruised face. Blood trickled from his nose. Cara backed away from Edmund, hugging herself, averting her eyes from Gregory’s dark, piercing gaze. He made her uncomfortable despite what Edmund wanted her to believe. She glanced at Edmund, finding him studying her, the struggle between leaving and staying evident in his stormy eyes.

“You’d best be on your way, then. My father will be looking for me and my sister soon.”

“There’s another one like you at home? Younger or older?” Gregory asked with a cocky grin that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Soon to be married,” she answered quickly.

Edmund stepped forward, taking her hands in his. “You remember what I said?”

Cara’s gaze slammed into Gregory’s dark orbs just beyond Edmund’s shoulder. His moody friend stormed past them, heading in the direction of the woods. “I hope your friend is not angry.”

“Not to worry, my love. We’ve had other scuffles, far
worse. It will pass. It always does.” He leaned down, leaving a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. “Wait for me, Cara,” he whispered. “It may take some time to convince them, but I will.”

She smiled at him, wishing she could remember where she’d left her shawl, for she felt a sudden chill that seeped deep into her bones.

3

“YOU TOLD HER WHAT?” GREGORY RUBBED his jaw and stared at Edmund in disbelief. “Have you gone mad? Take my word for it, Edmund. Stop thinking with your cock and start thinking with your brain, unless perhaps they are one and the same.” He continued to walk, reaching down to yank a shaft of long grass to chew on. Safe now across the barricade that separated them from the Gaels, they walked a little slower toward home.

Edmund looked at the pinkish hue of the sun creeping over the hillside. The world suddenly looked different. He saw things with greater clarity.

“Regardless of what you think, I am going to go back for her. I cannot help the feelings I have for her. Feelings that well may be love, Gregory.” Edmund smiled, hearing the words aloud.

“As your friend, it is my duty to remind you that you would be throwing your life away on that girl. It goes against the king’s edict even to be uttering such ideas out loud,” Gregory stated, pointing an emphatic finger at him. “Your family, I’m quite certain, will not favor this idea. Your life is set, Edmund. You leave for Rome in a few
days. Did you forget?” Edmund followed slowly behind, pondering Gregory’s words. He could not refute the truth of them, and yet part of him wondered if his friend’s lack of support stemmed from honor to the crown or jealousy. Gregory had never before been a model for keeping rules.

“This is because she would not give in to your wishes, isn’t it?” He hurried to Gregory’s side, slamming his hand down on his shoulder.

The friend he’d known since childhood whirled to face him, his eyes ablaze with a fiery hatred. Edmund stared at him in shock. He’d never seen him so angry.

“You think I care about bedding your Gaelic wench? I had my fill, Edmund—more than enough, thank you—and I assure you none of them was any less special than your Cara. What makes you think she is any different? How many others were there before you? Did you bother to ask?”

“I did not have to ask,” he retorted without thinking.

Gregory’s expression went from anger to puzzlement, then to shock. “She was a virgin? Good God, Edmund! What have you done?”

Edmund stormed ahead, entirely uncomfortable talking with Gregory about this any longer. His stomach roiled with the potential consequences of his actions. “Swear on our friendship you will not breathe a word to anyone of this.” He tossed his friend a side glance, and when Gregory gave no response, Edmund grabbed his arm, stopping him again.

Gregory stared at Edmund’s grasp, and then pried loose his fingers, shoving his hand aside. “Very well, if you promise me that you will go on with your life, Edmund. Do what you are destined to do. You owe your allegiance
to your family, your country and your king.” Gregory’s eyes bored into his, waiting for his answer.

Edmund’s heart raced, thrumming hard in his chest, caught in a stranglehold between what he wanted and what was right. He squeezed shut his eyes and nodded. “I will consider all sides before I make a decision. Until then, swear to me that you will speak to no one.”

Gregory turned away, and for a moment Edmund was not sure he would agree to his request. “Swear on our friendship, Gregory.” He punched his shoulder.

Those dark eyes turned back to him slowly. “Do not ask me to lie, Edmund. You think only of yourself, but you forget that you place me in danger as well for harboring your secret.”

Edmund stared at his childhood friend. “Were you not the one who suggested we sneak into the festival?”

“I could as easily admit that I was going with you to keep an eye on you.”

“Bollocks. No one in their right mind would believe that,” Edmund responded, curious why Gregory would be so stubborn about this. Was it the fight? Had he been humiliated in front of Cara? “You’re the one with the reputation for misconduct. Your own father knows it.”

“Even so, it is you making claims that you’re going back for a Gaelic woman. What did you intend, Edmund? Marriage? You and your family could be hanged for treason to the king. Hers, too. The truth, while I feel it may be distasteful to you, my friend, is that I have little choice in this matter, and my troth to stay silent or not will have little bearing on the outcome, only perhaps its expediency.”