Read Online Love Wild and Fair by Bertrice Small - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Bertrice Small
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sweep her up in his arms and carry her to their bedroom Swiftly, without preliminaries, he tore his clothing off, shoved her down on the bed, pushed her nightgown up, and thrust into her. Cat was outraged.
Satisfied for the moment, he sat up against the pillows and pulled her back against him. He had always loved her breasts, and now he fondled them hungrily. Beginning to swell with her pregnancy, they were sore, and his touch irritated her. He further annoyed her by chuckling, “I think these sweet little titties of mine are growing bigger, Cat.” He squeezed them playfully. “A man’s loving care can work wonders, eh, love?”
He should have been warned by the ominous silence, but his mind was on other things, and his body was hungry for her again. He took her once more. Then, pushing her from their bed, he patted her buttock and asked for his dinner.
She descended to the kitchen. Ellen was long since in her bed, so Cat loaded a tray with half a roasted bird, a small cold game pie from the larder, bread, butter, a honeycomb, and a foaming pitcher of brown ale, to which she added a pinch of dried herbs. The earl was going to have an excellent night’s sleep.
She served him sweetly, and almost felt guilty when he said, “You are going to be the most beautiful countess Glenkirk’s ever had. Lord, sweetheart! How I love you!” The drugged ale was beginning to work on him. Climbing into their bed, he fell asleep.
From childhood Cat Hay had been able to wake herself on command. It was still dark when she rose and dressed herself in riding pants and a linen shirt. She packed a small bundle and, picking up Glenkirk’s warm cloak, slipped out of the room and down the stairs. It was fully three hours till dawn. Cat crept softly into the stable. Above, in the loft, Ellen was snoring. Conall, she knew, was sleeping with his mistress of the moment, about half a mile away. Quietly she saddled Dearg. Putting a lead rein on Conall’s Fyne, she led both horses from the stable.
She walked them a good quarter-mile from the house. Then, mounting Dearg and leading Fyne, she galloped off in the direction of Greyhaven. She planned to get there before even the servants were awake. Once in the house she would gather a few more clothes, her jewelry, and some gold from her father’s cache.
Achieving her objective, she headed for the high road, but not before first releasing Fyne with a swat on his rump. He’d go straight to his stables at Glenkirk. Munching oatcakes, she rode along, chuckling to herself. She had outwitted Patrick! He had been so kind and loving in the last weeks that she had almost believed he accepted her as an equal. Last night, however, had told her the truth of the matter. It was as he had said. She was his possession, something for him to breed sons on. Well, she would soon teach him the folly of taking her for granted. She was nobody’s slave.
She kicked Dearg into a gallop. Had Patrick really believed that by taking Bana from her she couldn’t escape? If he had taken the time to learn as much about Catriona Hay the woman as he had taken learning about Catriona Hay’s body, he would have known that there wasn’t a horse bred she couldn’t ride. It would have given her great pleasure to know that, at that very moment, Patrick Leslie was learning just that.
He had awakened with a headache and a funny taste in his mouth. Reaching out he discovered that Cat was gone. A frantic knocking on the door tortured his head. “Come in, damnit!” he shouted. Both Ellen and Conall tumbled into the room, talking at once. “Silence!” he roared. “One of ye at a time. Ellen, you first.”
“She’s gone, my lord. Mistress Catriona has gone. She’s taken both horses, and run away.”
“When?”
“Sometime in the night I am sorry, my lord. I sleep like the dead till six each morning. I never heard a thing.”
“Where were ye?” said the earl, turning to Conall. “Nay. Dinna tell me. Ye were off sticking it
Satisfied for the moment, he sat up against the pillows and pulled her back against him. He had always loved her breasts, and now he fondled them hungrily. Beginning to swell with her pregnancy, they were sore, and his touch irritated her. He further annoyed her by chuckling, “I think these sweet little titties of mine are growing bigger, Cat.” He squeezed them playfully. “A man’s loving care can work wonders, eh, love?”
He should have been warned by the ominous silence, but his mind was on other things, and his body was hungry for her again. He took her once more. Then, pushing her from their bed, he patted her buttock and asked for his dinner.
She descended to the kitchen. Ellen was long since in her bed, so Cat loaded a tray with half a roasted bird, a small cold game pie from the larder, bread, butter, a honeycomb, and a foaming pitcher of brown ale, to which she added a pinch of dried herbs. The earl was going to have an excellent night’s sleep.
She served him sweetly, and almost felt guilty when he said, “You are going to be the most beautiful countess Glenkirk’s ever had. Lord, sweetheart! How I love you!” The drugged ale was beginning to work on him. Climbing into their bed, he fell asleep.
From childhood Cat Hay had been able to wake herself on command. It was still dark when she rose and dressed herself in riding pants and a linen shirt. She packed a small bundle and, picking up Glenkirk’s warm cloak, slipped out of the room and down the stairs. It was fully three hours till dawn. Cat crept softly into the stable. Above, in the loft, Ellen was snoring. Conall, she knew, was sleeping with his mistress of the moment, about half a mile away. Quietly she saddled Dearg. Putting a lead rein on Conall’s Fyne, she led both horses from the stable.
She walked them a good quarter-mile from the house. Then, mounting Dearg and leading Fyne, she galloped off in the direction of Greyhaven. She planned to get there before even the servants were awake. Once in the house she would gather a few more clothes, her jewelry, and some gold from her father’s cache.
Achieving her objective, she headed for the high road, but not before first releasing Fyne with a swat on his rump. He’d go straight to his stables at Glenkirk. Munching oatcakes, she rode along, chuckling to herself. She had outwitted Patrick! He had been so kind and loving in the last weeks that she had almost believed he accepted her as an equal. Last night, however, had told her the truth of the matter. It was as he had said. She was his possession, something for him to breed sons on. Well, she would soon teach him the folly of taking her for granted. She was nobody’s slave.
She kicked Dearg into a gallop. Had Patrick really believed that by taking Bana from her she couldn’t escape? If he had taken the time to learn as much about Catriona Hay the woman as he had taken learning about Catriona Hay’s body, he would have known that there wasn’t a horse bred she couldn’t ride. It would have given her great pleasure to know that, at that very moment, Patrick Leslie was learning just that.
He had awakened with a headache and a funny taste in his mouth. Reaching out he discovered that Cat was gone. A frantic knocking on the door tortured his head. “Come in, damnit!” he shouted. Both Ellen and Conall tumbled into the room, talking at once. “Silence!” he roared. “One of ye at a time. Ellen, you first.”
“She’s gone, my lord. Mistress Catriona has gone. She’s taken both horses, and run away.”
“When?”
“Sometime in the night I am sorry, my lord. I sleep like the dead till six each morning. I never heard a thing.”
“Where were ye?” said the earl, turning to Conall. “Nay. Dinna tell me. Ye were off sticking it
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