by inviting the queen and her company to one of his many estates.
Conor cursed himself for his carelessness. He should have paid more
attention, despite the distractions. Now he would have to go back in
his mind to recall every word, every phrase.
He was too deep in thought to realize that Dunstan was studying him
carefully.
Dunstan's words brought Conor out of his reverie. "You .ook a bit
weary this morrow, O'Neil. Was it ale, cards or women?"
Emma gasped while the others laughed.
Conor merely gave him a lazy smile. "I could boast that it was all
three. But in truth, I slept like a babe."
"As did I." The queen's voice was a purr of contentment as she
touched a hand to Conor's in a most suggestive manner.
While the others winked and nodded at the queen's words, Dunstan
steepled his fingers and narrowed his gaze on the man beside her. It
was going to give him such satisfaction to watch this Irishman squirm
when he found himself no longer under the protection of England's
monarch. Oh, it would be sweet vengeance indeed.
"Come. We have tarried long enough." Elizabeth stood and her ladies
formed a circle around her as she walked away. "We have much to
see to before we take our leave of Greenwich on the morrow."
Seeing the smug smile on Dunstan's lips, Conor became even more
determined than ever to watch, to listen, to go over every word he had
overheard last night. If there was the slightest hint of what Dunstan
and Celestine were planning, he had to move quickly. Not only did
Emma's safety depend on it, but possibly the safety of the queen as
well. That could mean an end to all he had worked for. The safety, the
very survival of Ireland, might depend upon what happened in these
next days.
"I have never seen such an uproar," Nola muttered as she gathered up
yet another batch of gowns and cloaks.
"Aye," grumbled another servant. "Now that the queen has moved up
the date of our departure, there's not a moment Jeft to catch my
breath."
Servants scurried from room to room, collecting armloads of clothing
and bed linen. The cooks had been working night and day, baking
breads, roasting meats, to feed the army of men and women who
would accompany the nobles on their journey. The stable lads were
busy preparing dozens of horses for the trek into the countryside.
Many wagons and carts, laden with household goods, had already
been hauled away. Every so often the rumble of wheels would
announce the departure of another.
Through it all Emma worked alongside the other women, preparing
the queen for her public appearances. Though her thoughts often
strayed to Conor, Emma managed to feign interest in the mundane
problems of the queen's wardrobe. When the others admired
Elizabeth's satin cloak lined with ermine, Emma agreed it was the
loveliest she had ever seen. And when the queen asked her opinion on
which riding outfit to choose, Emma boldly suggested the russet
gown and cloak, to compliment Elizabeth's hair.
There were slippers and jewels to be matched to each gown. Coats
and bonnets and ribbons and combs.
At long last, day inched toward darkness, and the queen announced
that she would sup in the privacy of her chambers to preserve her
energy for the morning's journey.
Emma "Was delighted to retreat to her chambers, where Nola was
already preparing a simple supper on a small table set before the fire.
The servant looked up when Emma entered. "Shall I stay and serve
you, my lady?"
Emma shook her head firmly. "You need your rest, Nola. Her
Majesty has declared that we must be prepared to move out at first
light."
"Aye, my lady." Nola fairly flew across the floor.
As she drew open the door, Emma called to her retreating back, "Bid
Meade a fond farewell from me, as well, Nola."
The little maid paused, her cheeks flushed with color. "How did you
guess where I was headed, my lady?"
"It is obvious to anyone who sees you, Nola. Go now. And try to get
at least a little sleep tonight."
"Aye, my lady." With a giggle, she was gone, the door closing firmly
behind her.
Emma was still smiling when she felt arms close around her and a
deep voice whisper in her ear, "I thought she'd never leave."
Conor's voice sent shivers along her spine.
She leaned back against him and gave a sigh of pure pleasure. "How
long have you been here?"
"Not long. I climbed to your balcony just before your servant arrived
with your meal. I thought it best to remain concealed until she was
gone."
"A very wise decision, my lord. Else her shouts would have brought
down the entire palace." She turned and touched a hand to his cheek.
"How long can you stay?"
His smile held a hint of danger. "That depends, my lady. How long
can you stand to have me here?"
"Oh, Conor." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him
with a fervor that made both their heads spin.
He hadn't expected such a rush of passion. It heated his blood,
clouded his vision. With his mouth on hers he backed her up until she
was pressed firmly against the wall.
His words, which only moments earlier had been spoken lightly, were
now rough with urgency. "I've thought of no one but you all day." His
mouth savaged hers. His lips, his hands took her on a wild, dizzying
ride. "All I could think of was you. Of this. Only this."
She had thought, after the night they had spent together, that there
was nothing new he could show her. But this was no slow, sweet
journey of love. This was passion. Raw. Wild. Unleashed.
With.every touch of those strong fingers, with every taste of those
clever lips, he drove her higher, giving her no chance to recover her
senses. With each sigh and moan of pleasure, she soared higher, then
higher still, until, desperate for selease, with his name torn from her
lips, she felt herself slipping over the edge of a cliff. And falling.
Falling.
She was wonderful to watch. All her feelings were mirrored in her
expressive eyes. Her excitement fueled his own, driving him beyond
all limits. When she reached the crest, he covered her mouth with his
and took her with a fierceness that bordered on madness. And left
them both shattered.
Drained beyond belief, they dropped to their knees. Conor gathered
her into his arms and felt her breathing slowly return to normal.
"I can't quite believe this," she managed over a throat still clogged
with passion.
"Nor I." He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks. And then, with laughter
rumbling in his chest he muttered, ' 'Do you realize that we have
never yet enjoyed the comfort of a bed?"
She joined his laughter. "Perhaps, after we sup, we could try it?"
He surprised her by lifting her in his arms and carrying her across the
room. He settled her gently in the bed, then lay beside her.
Against her mouth he muttered, "It seems a shame to waste time with
food. Don't
you agree?"
"Aye. I do indeed."
It was the last word she managed before his mouth claimed hers
again.
With soft sighs and heated touches, they came together once more,
shutting out the world around them. But this time it was a slow,
patient journey of two lovers who had all the time in the world.
"Tell me what to expect on the first day of the queen's progress."
Emma lifted the goblet of wine to her lips and drank, then offered it to
Conor. Though the hour was so late that all in the palace were asleep,
they found themselves wide awake after hours of loving. The remains
of their supper rested on a tray between them."It will not be difficult."
He held a biscuit dipped in honey to her mouth and watched as she
took a bite. Then he bent to taste the sweetness that lingered on her
lips. "Warwick is but a day's journey from here."
"Then why must we leave at dawn?"
He polished off the rest of the biscuit, then sipped more wine before
handing the goblet back to her. "The village elders will wish to greet
their queen with long, boring speeches and many gifts of gold and
precious jewels. And then there will be the formal supper with all the
nobles from nearby villages and shires. Elizabeth enjoys these
spectacles. But she also knows that it will be very late before she can
retire to her bed. The sooner we start, the sooner the celebration will
end. And then she can enjoy several days at Blystone's estate, doing
as she pleases."
"Such as?" Emma removed the tray and filled their goblet from a
crystal decanter.
"There will be a hunt, of course, for Elizabeth dearly loves to hunt."
As she climbed back into bed Conor paused and lifted his arm,
drawing her close against his chest. When she held the goblet to his
lips he sipped. "And a grand ball. As you've noticed, our queen loves
to dance."
"Aye. She especially loves to dance with her charming rogue."
He winced as she offered him a sip of her wine. "Do you know how
much I detest that name?'
"I don't know why." Emma fought to keep the laughter from her tone.
"After all, you are charming. And, as everyone knows, you are quite a
rogue."
"And you are a most annoying wench." He took the goblet from her
hand and set it on the table beside the bed. Then he turned and
dragged her into his arms, kissing her until she had to struggle for
breath.
"I hope that will remind you to find a new name for me. I'll no longer
answer to the queen's title."
"Aye. Enough, Conor." Laughing, she pushed free of his arms. As
soon as he released her she added teasingly, "My charming..."
Before she could scamper from the bed he caught her by the ankle
and began to tickle her foot.
"Come here, wench," he growled in mock anger. "It's time you were
taught some manners."
Amid squeals of laughter she managed to ask, "By the queen's
charming...?"
"That does it." He knelt up and, holding her foot firmly in both hands,
began raining kisses along the sole of her foot until she was writhing
and giggling.
"Stop. Oh, Conor, stop. I can't bear it." She giggled again. But, as his
lips began a slow, torturous journey up her calf to the back of her
knee, her laughter suddenly faded.
By the time his lips were moving along her inner thigh, she was
sighing. And then, as he brought his mouth higher still, she gave a
gasp of surprise that soon turned into a little moan of unbearable
delight.
She hadn't thought it possible to experience anything this intense.
Pleasure bordering on pain. A feeling so exquisite, she felt lost in
rapture.
"Conor. Conor." As if in a haze she whispered his name as he brought
his mouth up her body, further exciting her, until he claimed her lips.
With a savageness that stunned them both, he took her.
She moved with him, driven by incredible strength. Conor watched
her, loving the way she lost herself in him. In the pleasure. In the
passion. And then he found himself drowning in her. In her voice
calling his name. In this tide that was so compelling, he felt himself
tossed and buffeted and finally, shattered.
Spent, they lay in each other's arms and drifted slowly back.
Still locked in an embrace, they slept.
* * *
Dunstan stood very still, listening outside Emma's door. So, it was as
he'd suspected. Emma Vaughn and Conor O'Neil were lovers. But,
had the girl merely followed orders and seduced the Irishman for the
sake of her loved ones? If so, that would have to mean she didn't yet
know that her father and sister had escaped Celestine's clutches.
Or had she lost her heart to O'Neil?
No matter. The fact was, she wasn't as sweet and innocent as she'd
pretended. Whether it was duty or love that sent her to O'Neil's bed,
one fact remained. The queen's lady-in-waiting had betrayed her
monarch with the hated Irishman.
Dunstan walked away, a sly smile touching the corners of his lips.
What sweet revenge he would enjoy. For Emma Vaughn and Conor
O'Neil had just given him a powerful weapon to use against them.
Chapter Twenty
Where are you going?" Emma awoke to find Conor already dressed.
"It's almost dawn, love. Your maid will be here soon. You wouldn't
want Nola to find me in your chambers." He crossed to the bed and
gave her a soft, lingering kiss. "This may have to hold us for days,
until we find a moment alone."
"Oh, Conor." She knelt up in the bed and wrapped her arms around
his neck, returning his kiss with a passion that was nearly his
undoing. "I wish you didn't have to go. I miss you already."
He moaned and took the kiss deeper, resenting the time and
circumstances that conspired to keep them apart. "It will only be a
day or two. I'll come to you, love, even if I have to slay a few dragons
to do it."
She shivered at the deep timbre of his voice. "Don't say that. Even in
jest."
He couldn't help teasing her. "I'll wager you wouldn't be so concerned
for Heaven's Avenger."
"Nay. But he's a fighter, and you're a lover. My lover."
He gave her a heart-stopping grin and kissed her one lasttime, then
forced himself to step back. Unless he left right this minute, he'd
never make it out of here.
He crossed to the balcony, grasped the rope, then disappeared over
the railing. By the time Emma raced across the room and looked for
him, her man of mystery had been swallowed up by the swirling mist.
"There, Majesty." Conor, astride his horse, pointed to the turrets in
the distance. "There is the earl's estate at Warwick."
"At last." The queen, weary after hours in her carriage, brightened.
The procession had been slowed considerably by the throngs of
people who lined the roads. Young boys waved from the high
branches of trees. Women stood on tiptoe, for a glimpse of their
monarch. Fathers held shrieking children on their shoulders to salute
their queen.
Elizabeth fanned herself.
"I have been greatly cheered by the warmth
and adulation of the crowd. But now I want nothing more than a
refreshing basin of water to bathe away the dust of the journey, and a
glass of ale for my parched throat."
"Then you shall have them, Majesty." Conor gave the order to a
servant, who took off toward the manor house in a flurry of
hoofbeats.
Within minutes their procession had entered the grounds and began
winding its way along a curving ribbon of road toward-the turreted
house beyond.
When they arrived the servants were lined up in the courtyard behind
their master, as he waited to receive his regal guest. The Earl of
Blystone's voice was warm with affection as he presented his
household staff to their queen. He watched with pride as the men
doffed their hats and bowed and the women curtsied.
Then, while the other guests were being helped from their carriages,
the queen gratefully entered the privacy of the earl's home. She was
taken at once to her sumptuous quarters, where she could refresh
herself after the long journey.
Emma, who had been forced to ride with the queen, stood to one side
in the sunshine, watching as trunks were unlashed and dropped to
waiting servants, who carried them inside. Amid all the bustle, she
saw Conor walking toward her. At once her weariness vanished as he
greeted her with a smile.
"How did you fare, my lady?"
"It was not a difficult journey. And the queen's servants saw to our
every comfort."
"I'm happy to hear that." He leaned close. "I wish I could touch you.
Just for a moment."
"Then you shall." She placed her hand on his arm and began to walk
beside him.
As they stepped through the arched doorway, Conor managed to pull
her close. His lips brushed hers. A mere whisper of mouth to mouth,
but they both felt the heat and were warmed by it.
"If only we could slip away to a distant meadow, my lady, so I could
show you just how much you were missed."
Emma heard the frustration in his tone. It mirrored her own. "Perhaps
later we can find a moment. But I fear the welcoming festivities will