AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Splendor of God, it's time I put my brand on you!” He dragged her into his arms and crushed her mouth with his.
Bess bit down on his lip and had the satisfaction of hearing him utter a filthy curse. He did not allow her to free herself from his embrace, however.
“You led those men on to make shameful advances today!”
“There is nothing shameful about them. Their intentions are perfectly honorable. Both have marriage in mind; they are that kind of men.”
“Iam that kind of man!”
Bess knew he was consumed with jealousy. It was the closest he had come to promising her marriage, and she reveled in the feeling of power it gave her.
“I have marked you for mine, and I won't allow other men to fondle you.” This time his mouth was so possessive and demanding, Bess opened her lips with a pleasurable little sigh and allowed his tongue to ravish her.
His hot mouth trailed down her throat, and his lips traced the curves of her breasts where they swelled from her gown. Then suddenly he had her breasts bared, cradling them in the palms of his big hands as his tongue curled about a taut nipple and drew it into his mouth like a cherry.
Bess cried out at the unbelievable sensations he was arousing in her. Her blood was on fire and she went wild, offering him her other breast to feast upon.
“Have you any idea what you do to me?” His deep voice was hoarse and ragged.
“Tell me,” she invited huskily.
“Rather, I'll show you.” He took her fingers and drew them to his swollen groin. He was too big to cup in one hand, and Bess eagerly brought up her other hand to cover his hardness. The moment she touched him, his phallus thrust forward. He lifted her skirt and slid his hand boldly up her leg. When he touched the bare flesh on the inside of her thigh where her stocking ended, Bess shuddered involuntarily.
“Don't, William! I'm still virgin.”
“What the devil are you talking about?” he growled.
“My husband was only a boy, William; I'm not sure the marriage was consummated properly. In any case I still feel virgin.”
“Bess, you never cease to amaze me!” William was momentarily stunned, then he became skeptical. “Are you sure this isn't just the wine talking?”
Bess wished she hadn't mentioned her virginity. “I confess I've had far too much to drink, and it has made me behave shamelessly. Fortunately, I know you won't take advantage of me.”
The carriage jolted to a stop, and William withdrew his hand as a liveried Suffolk House footman opened the carriage door. Cavendish blocked the servant's view to give Bess a chance to pull her bodice up over her naked breasts, then he climbed out and turned to lift Bess to the ground.
The Greys' coach pulled up beside them, and Henry climbed out. “Bess, my dear, would you help me with Frances? She's a little unsteady.”
“I'm not unsteady; I'm randy as a nanny goat. Weddings always have that effect on me! How about you two?” Frances winked owlishly at Bess and William.
As the footman stood at attention, pretending to be both blind and deaf, the humor of the situation struck them and they began to laugh. “She's right,” William whispered in Bess's ear. “I'm randy as a billy goat. I'd better sleep at Court tonight.”
“Henry, I need a good bedding, and Bess, I need you to get me out of these bloody corsets!” Frances declared at the top of her lungs.
The winter season proved to be the busiest in years. November 1546 did not have enough nights to accommodate all the masques, balls, and entertainments in which the nobility wished to indulge.
Cavendish had to journey to Canterbury before winter made the roads impassable. His prime occupation was ferreting out the wealth of the religious orders, which they were adept at hiding. In his absence Bess had many would-be suitors, who vied with each other to partner her when she attended masques thrown by the Dudleys or the Herberts. Yet none of them captured her heart or had the physically devastating effect on her that Cavendish wrought, and by the time he returned in early December, Bess was counting the days.
When Cavendish arrived at Suffolk House, Frances invited him to dine and asked him to join them at Hertford House in Cannon Row. “Edward Seymour and his delightful countess are giving a play tonight to honor the king and queen. I wouldn't miss it; I need a good laugh.”
“I don't believe it's a comedy, my dear,” Henry ventured.
“Don't be obtuse, Henry, it isn't the play that will amuse me but the maneuvering of that rabid bitch, Ann!”
“I thank you for dinner, Frances, but I believe I will forego the play.” He had just come from an interview with His Majesty. Cavendish sat across from Bess, devouring her with his eyes. He could have been eating roast dog for all the attention he paid to his food.
Bess was gowned in pale lavender velvet slashed with silver. She wore the amethysts he had given her, and she knew it pleased him. Bess watched his eyes linger on her half-exposed breasts, then rise hungrily to her mouth. As she watched him she sensed that he wanted to tell her something in private. Suddenly, she didn't want to attend the play she had been looking forward to all week. When dinner was over Bess pressed her fingers to her temples. “I have the headache; perhaps I shouldn't attend the play either.”
Lady Frances stood and shook out her voluminous midnight-blue skirts. “Of course you shouldn't, darling.” Frances lifted an arched brow at Cavendish. “Rogue has an infallible cure for the headache—something about putting your head between your legs, or was it putting his head between your legs—anyway, it's something delightfully ingenious.”
