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She did not know how long he had been kissing her or how far he had walked until he set her down and pushed her against a tree. His breeches went down around his knees and her skirts went up around her waist. Lifting her up, he braced her back against the trunk and drove hard into her. Jordan cried out and he immediately stopped.

“My God, Jordan, I have hurt you,” he breathed. “I should have been mindful that…,”

She put her fingers over his mouth. “Nay, love, ye dinna hurt me,” she murmured. “ ’Twas my passion answering yers.”

He studied her face hesitantly as if he did not believe her until she smiled and began to kiss him as she had never kissed him before.

He pounded into her, scraping her back against the tree bark but she did not feel it. Even if she was a bit sore, she was consumed with the scalding friction he was creating, the erotic sensations he was causing to happen within her. She clung to him, the sweetness of him filling her, his power overwhelming.

She was so aroused that her passion peaked quickly and when he felt her throbbing begin, he could not help but answer with his own. His hands were squeezing her buttocks, pulling her against him, driving in as far as he could go as he released his seed deep into her womb with a grunt of satisfaction.

His face was buried in her neck and her arms were tight about his head. They stayed in that position for a small eternity as birds sang overhead and wind softly whistled in the trees, heart rates slowing and the feeling of bliss covering them like a blanket.

Jordan was completely content. She wished they could remain as they were forever, with no earl, no Northwood, no England and no Scotland. She didn’t want to share him with anyone or anything. She had found her life and her love and knew she would not be content to settle for anything less. She wondered in the years ahead how strong her sense of duty would be to prevent her from casting everything aside and running away with him.

Her legs were cramping and she shifted a little. William pulled his face from her neck, his gaze devouring her. She smiled and ran her hands along his stubbled jaw.

“God, you drive me insane with desire,” he said huskily. “I should not have taken you so roughly.”

She flashed her white teeth. “I dinna mind, English.”

It didn’t matter that she was completely new to the world of intercourse; all she knew was that she liked it. She liked the way he made her feel.

He kissed her once, twice, and let her gently slide to the ground. He fastened his breeches quickly and helped her with her dress, picking pieces of bark off her back.

“We must go back lest someone comes looking for us,” William said regretfully.

He took her arm and they began to walk back toward the road. As soon as they broke through the trees they were met by several peasants preparing to go into the woods and do some hunting. William said a silent prayer at their sense of timing, passing Jordan a glance that reflected her very thoughts.

There was more traffic on the road in and out of Northwood than there had been earlier and Jordan curiously observed the people, the comings and the goings. Whereas Langton fairly remained closed most of the time, Northwood kept her gates open and did a good deal of business. She was intrigued.

“With Jemma gone, I will not have a lady-in-waiting,” she broached their previous subject, hoping that if she pleaded enough he would approach the earl on her behalf. She truly wanted her cousin at her side, now more than ever.

“The earl is sending to London for a lady from the queen,” he told her. “Since you are to become an English countess, he feels that a court lady will be able to help you with the intricacies of such a life. Jemma would be no help to you there.”

Jordan looked surprised. “I dunna want a court lady,” she said insistently. “Those pasty-faced wenches with their stiff dresses and their kissing diseases. I want them nowhere near me.”

He almost choked with laughter but one look at her face told him she was serious. “Kissing diseases? Where did you hear such information?”

She frowned. “Pah, English, everyone knows that the queen’s ladies are nothing but high-bred whores. Is that the type of woman you would have for my companion?”

“High-bred whores?” he repeated to himself, amused, then spoke louder. “In spite of your opinion, I am sure the queen will select a proper mentor. If I feel she is not, then I will send her back.”

“What of the earl?” she questioned.

William shrugged. “He will listen to me.”

The opening she was looking for. “Then ask him not to send Jemma home. I need her, English.”

He looked at her and knew she had trapped him. He sighed low in frustration. “Mayhap tonight. I will see how his mood rides,” he said. “But it is not just him; it is Analiese.”

“I saw how she looks at ye, English,” Jordan said with a bit of jealousy. “If ye were to throw a pretty look in her direction she would most likely relent. Oh, please, wunna ye try for me?”

He made a wry face at her. “Jordan, you have no idea what you are asking,” he said flatly. “Analiese has been…well, she’s been sorely trying my patience for years. To put it bluntly, she wishes my favors. If I were to show her the least bit of kindness, there would be no end to it.”

“As much as that thought distresses me, I will beg ye again,” she said. “Please, English? For me?”

He glanced down into her wide green eyes. He would move the sun and the stars for her without as much as a blink of an eye. The battle for him was lost the moment she asked him to begin with and the rest of the conversation was a futile attempt to not seem so devoted to her will.