Besieged Page 10

  She wasn't India, romantic and headstrong. Not that her sister hadn't been as fussy, for she had. At court young men of good families and old titles had approached their parents with marriage in mind. Both she and India agreed it was their dowries that attracted most. But the Leslies of Glenkirk had always said the choice was up to their daughters in the end. As frustrating as it had been for James Leslie, he had tried to keep his promise to them. India, however, would have driven a saint to perdition. The duke of Glenkirk had finally lost his patience with her, and married her off to the earl of Oxton. That it turned out to be a happy union was another story. And India had made him promise only last summer that he would not do the same thing to Fortune. But could her stepfather, the only father she had ever known, keep that promise? Would Rowan Lindley, the man who sired her, have kept such a promise?

  She had come to Ireland fully intending to wed with William Devers as long as he were not an ugly beast with a bad temper. But he hadn't been. Tall, handsome, charming, he had been eager to have her for his wife, and she felt it was not just her inheritance that had attracted him. But in those few days she had spent getting to know Will she had come to realize she couldn't marry anyone just because it was the practical and sensible thing to do. What had happened to her? She was, it would seem, more like her mother and her sister than she had ever thought she was. It was a disturbing revelation.

  What was more distressing was her fierce growing attraction to Will's older brother, Kieran. He overwhelmed her senses with the kind of sensual thoughts she hadn't thought herself capable of having. She found this complex man far more interesting than his younger brother. She was frankly relieved that the Deverses had gone to England to escape any possible embarrassment that the proposed match between their families, gone sour, might have caused them. Now she had time to be with Kieran, and none to fault her for it. And Papa had seen her attraction for Kieran Devers even before she had realized it! Fortune smiled to herself in the darkness. James Leslie had been a good father to her, and to the rest of them. Her eyes grew heavy. What was going to happen? she wondered.

  She was up early but much to her disappointment it was raining. Looking out over the lough that was filled with heavy fog and mist she wondered if he would come anyway. A little rain never hurt anyone, she reasoned. She dressed for riding, and went down into the hall to eat her oat stir-about and drink her watered wine. James Leslie cast her an amused look seeing her garb.

  "Where is Mama?" she asked, sitting next to him at the high board. She reached for the cottage loaf, and tore herself off a small portion, buttering it generously, and then slicing a bit of cheese from the half-wheel to go on it.

  "Ye know yer mother becomes less interested in rising wi the dawn now that she is getting older," he replied. Then he sipped his wine, reaching for a hard-boiled egg to peel.

  "Do you think he'll come, Papa?" The question slipped out.

  "A wee bit of rain would hae nae kept me from a pretty lass when I was his age, poppet," James replied.

  "I don't even know how old he is," Fortune said.

  "I would say he is yet in his twenties, lassie. A husband should be older than his wife, I believe." He dipped his peeled egg into the salt dish, and took a bite.

  "He is not to be my husband!" Fortune quickly said.

  James Leslie popped the rest of the egg into his mouth, and then he took Fortune's hand in his, looking directly at her when she turned her face to his. "Now listen to me, lassie," he said quietly. "Yer a lot like yer great-grandmother in many ways. Madame Skye did nae in her youth, so I am told, flirt like some court coquette. If a man caught her eye then that was it. I think it will be that way wi ye, poppet.

  "William Devers was a good enough lad, but too soft, too ruled by his family. I could see right away that he was nae the man for ye. His brother, however, is a different matter. He's a real man. Mayhap a bit of a fool to give up Mallow Court, but if he wins ye, he'll hae Erne Rock, and 'twould nae be a bad exchange. So if ye want him, Fortune, then pursue him, and dinna feel shame in it. Happiness is gained, nae conferred upon ye simply because yer a pretty lass wi a grand inheritance."

  "Why, Papa!" Fortune was genuinely surprised by his words. "You were not so generous with India."

  "India was a bit of a flibbertigibbet when she was on the husband hunt," James Leslie replied. "Ye are nae such a featherbrain, but rather her exact opposite. Intelligence is nae a bad thing in a woman, Fortune, but love is nae a matter one should overconsider. If ye find it, lassie, then grab it, and hold on to it tightly, for it may but come once in yer lifetime. 'Twas that way wi yer sire, and it hae been that way wi me. I loved yer mother from the beginning, and I will love her until I die." He patted Fortune's cheek. "Yer a good lass. Follow yer heart if ye've a mind to, and I will nae complain."

  Fortune could feel the tears pricking at her eyelids. She blinked quickly to keep them from escaping. James Leslie had never spoken so candidly, or so lovingly to her as he just did. "Are you sure you are not trying to get rid of me?" she teased him softly.

  He smiled a slow smile. "Aye," he said, "I want ye gone, lassie, but only if it is to a man who will love ye even more than I do." Reaching out he brushed the single tear that had somehow managed to escape down her pale cheek.

  "My lord." Adali appeared in the entrance to the hall. "Master Devers has just arrived. I thought Lady Fortune would want to know."

  "Oh, he did come!" she half-whispered.

  "He would hae been a fool nae to come, but I somehow thought he would," the duke of Glenkirk said, rising from his place at table. "He is every bit as intrigued wi ye as ye are wi him, lassie."

  "Papa, how can you know that?" she said.

  "Did ye nae see the glances he gave ye when he was last here? I saw them, and 'twas then I knew he was already half in love wi ye, lassie. 'Tis fortunate his silly stepmother has whisked her little rooster chick off to England, isn't it?" The duke chuckled richly.

  "Aye," Fortune agreed with a small smile. "It 'tis, Papa."

  "Good morning, Lady Fortune. My lord." Kieran Devers came into the hall, handing his rain-soaked cloak to Adali. "When I began my journey from home the rain was hardly a mist. Now it is falling quite heavily."

  "I will see your garment is properly dried, sir," Adali said. He hurried from the hall.

  "Yer welcome nonetheless, Kieran Devers," the duke said. "Do ye play chess by any chance?"

  "Aye, my lord, I do," was the reply.

  "Then why don't ye and my daughter while away the time until the rains stop in that pursuit? Fortune plays quite well, don't ye, lassie?" He didn't wait for an answer. "I'll hae Adali fetch the chessboard and its pieces, and perhaps some good whiskey to take the chill from yer bones." He walked briskly from the hall.

  "Are ye really a good player?" Kieran asked her.

  "Aye," she responded, "very good. My mother taught me, and she used to play with her father when she was a girl in India."

  "We'll play a game, and then if I find you a worthy opponent," he told her, "we'll wager perhaps, eh?"

  "You won't need to test my mettle, Kieran Devers," Fortune told him. "We'll wager from the start. What would you have of me-if you win?" Her eyes twinkled mischievously, but his answer caused her to gasp.

  "A kiss," he said, his handsome face serious.

  "You're bold," she said, recovering her equilibrium.

  "If you win, what will you have of me?" he asked her.

  "A kiss," she responded, surprising him mightily. "I hope it will be worth it," Fortune finished with a wicked smile.

  He laughed aloud. He couldn't help it. " "Tis you who are bold, I'm thinking, m'lady," he told her.

  "Why?" she demanded. "Because I didn't blush, and demur, and ask you for a bonnie blue ribbon for my hair? I've been playing with boys my whole life, Kieran Devers. Be warned. I play to win, and am no simpering lass."

  The dark green eyes narrowed speculatively as he reassessed her. "No quarter?" he said softly.

&nb
sp; "No quarter," she answered him as softly.

  "The chessboard, my lady," Adali said, coming upon them. He set a pewter dram upon the table where they would play.

  "Damn me, man! You walk on cat's feet," Kieran said.

  "Aye, I do, sir," Adali replied, flashing the young man a wide smile. "I was taught to do so when I served in the harem. I find it a useful trait. I often appear where I am least expected." He set the board up on the small square table before the hall's fire. From a rectangular silver box studded with green malachite he removed the pieces carved from ivory and green malachite, placing them with careful deliberation upon the board. "If you will choose your pieces, sir."

  "I'll play the green," Kieran said, seating himself, and quickly swallowing down his whiskey.

  Fortune sat opposite, immediately studying the board. Then she made a rather ordinary and common move with one of her pawns.

  Standing near them Adali smiled softly, then left the hall.

  They played at a fairly rapid pace. He was quite pleased by her skill. She was far and away the best player he had ever played with, but nonetheless he was winning. Chuckling he moved one of his two knights. Fortune laughed, and then with a deliberate movement checkmated his king.

  "I belive I win, sir," she said sweetly.

  His jaw dropped. "How the hell…" He looked questioningly at her, surprise all over his handsome face.

  "I'll show you if you like," she said, and when he nodded his head quite vigorously she reconstructed their play to demonstrate.

  "Madame, that is positively devious," he told her. "Set up the board, and we will play again."

  "You owe me my wager," Fortune told him.

  Taking her hand in his he kissed it tenderly.

  "Nay, sir," Fortune cried, jumping to her feet. "If I had lost, would you have accepted such a paltry reward? I want a proper kiss! I have never had one before, but I want one now!" Leaning forward over the table she closed her eyes, and pursed her lips at him.

  God and His Holy Mother help me, he thought. Then Kieran Devers took Fortune Lindley's small chin between his thumb and his forefinger to steady her as his lips brushed her gently, gently. "Is that more satisfactory, m'lady?" he said, releasing her.

  Her heart had jumped when he first touched her. Then it had plummeted as his mouth made contact with hers. Opening her eyes she said, "I want more, sir. 'Twas pleasant, but surely there is more to it than that."

  "If there is," he teased, "you must win again to find out. Now that I have seen your mettle, I shall not be so easy to beat next time. Sit down, Fortune, and let us set the pieces aright again." His heart was hammering in his chest, and to his shock he had felt a distinct tingling in his nether regions as he kissed her. It was impossible to concentrate although he tried his best to do so. She beat him a second time much to his mortification.

  "Pay up, sir," Fortune said, "and this time you will do it properly as I have seen my father and mother kiss. You will put your arms about me, and hold me against you." She stood up, coming around the table.

  "Very well, you clever vixen," he growled in a fierce voice, rising. Then he pulled her against him hard, his arms wrapping tightly about her. His mouth found hers, and he kissed her with passion, feeling his lust rising, his heart exploding within him.

  She soared! The hunger he communicated, aye, hunger! sent her senses reeling. He wanted all of her, she realized, in that kiss. She might be a virgin, but Fortune Lindley knew desire when she faced it. She had seen it in men's eyes often enough. Her arms slipped up around his neck as her lips softened, and she kissed him back with an equal hunger. This was what she had been seeking her entire life. It was delicious!

  Suddenly he pushed her away. He was almost trembling. "No!" he said to her.

  "Yes!" she countered as quickly.

  "You don't know what you are doing to me, sweetheart," he half-whispered.

  "Do you know what you're doing to me?" she asked him.

  "Aye," he told her, "I do."

  "Then why stop, Kieran Devers?" Fortune demanded. She was flushed with her pleasure, and it was all he could do to remain a gentleman.

  "Because if we do not, I shall carry you up to your bedchamber, and ravish your sweetness," he said in a hard voice. "Because I have wanted you from the moment I first saw you. Because I prayed you would not want William so I might have you! Because as much as I love and desire you, Fortune Lindley, I cannot have you, for I have nothing to offer. You're not just some lass I have met. You're a girl from a grand family, with a great inheritance. Nothing about me is worthy of you. My lineage, or my worldly goods, which amount to damned precious little. Do you know how angry that makes me, Fortune?" He backed away from her. "I had best return home to Mallow Court."

  "The rain has stopped, and you came to ride with me," she countered. She was not about to lose him now, Fortune decided to herself, knowing if she let him go like this, she would never see him again. Remembering her stepfather's advice she plunged ahead. "I will be twenty next month," she said honestly. "I have waited my whole life for you, Kieran Devers. I will not let you leave me!

  What do I care if you are a rich man, or a poor man. My wealth is yours for the taking if you will but have me in exchange.

  "As for your lineage, if such things mattered to me, and they don't, yours is a proud lineage. Your father's family descend from the Debhers, the water-finders of the Celtic tribes. They were of high caste, Kieran. Your mother's family, the Maguires, have been the princes of Fermanagh for centuries. There is O' Neil on both sides of your family tree. There is naught wrong with your lineage. You have, I fear, been influenced by your English stepmother, and her disdain for all things Irish."

  "How do you know this?" he asked her, amazed.

  "I asked Rory Maguire," she said simply. "Do you know that the men of Fermanagh have always been considered the worst swordsmen in all of Ireland?"

  "No," he replied with a small smile.

  "Well, they have. Fermanagh has been the most peaceful region in all of Ireland. None of the great princes ever considered the men of Fermanagh a threat, for the great families of this region were made up of poets and bards; physicians and lawyers," Fortune told him. "Rory Maguire, being a member of the old ruling family here, knows all the history of the area, and was happy to enlighten me."

  "I would not have thought Maguire a historian," Kieran said.

  "Because he warned you to mind your manners with me as I am a noble virgin, and not to be taken lightly?" she teased.

  He laughed now, for it was exactly what Maguire had said to him earlier when he had arrived, and stabled his horse. "Let us ride if the rain has stopped, or was that just a way to hold me here longer?"

  "Both," she said honestly.

  "There is no future in any of this," he insisted. "We're mad to even consider that there is."

  "Is that not our decision to make, Kieran?" She put her hand upon his arm, and looked up into his handsome, but troubled face.

  "Is it?" he wondered aloud, drowning in her green-blue gaze. He was in love, he thought to his amazement. It had happened so quickly, so suddenly. He had never expected to be in love, and the whole thing was utterly impossible. They would never let him have her.

  "I want us to wed before your family returns from England in the autumn," Fortune said frankly.

  "I haven't asked you to marry me," he replied.

  "Don't you want to?" she demanded.

  "Of course I do, but your family will not allow it, sweetheart. Don't you understand? Poor men, even of noble family, do not marry wealthy heiresses. You could have a prince, a duke, or a marquess, Fortune. Your family can certainly seek for a better match than I am."

  "Kieran, the choice is mine. It always has been. I choose you. Do you really love me? Even on such short acquaintance?" she asked.

  "Aye," he replied softly. "From the first moment we came face to face upon that hill, and you so proud and haughty."

  "I was dreadfully rude," she admitted, "
but you were as arrogant as I, Kieran Devers. I think my heart knew then even if my mind did not, but I was angry to have you spoil my perfect plans." He had yet to take his arms from about her, and she snuggled against him.

  He dropped a kiss upon her fiery head, feeling her young body soft and yielding against his hardness. He wanted her greatly. He wanted to wake up in the morning and find her next to him. He wanted to give her children. Why had he been such a fool to defy his father? Why had he never considered that there might be a moment like this one? Or a girl like Lady Fortune Mary Lindley?

  "I was baptized a Catholic by Father Cullen," she said to him, seeming to sense his thoughts. "That means we can be wed in his church. You do not have to give up anything for me, Kieran."

  "It still does not overcome the problem of my poverty," he told Fortune quietly, gently pushing her away from him.

  "Let us ride while we discuss this further," Fortune suggested.

  "I am not a suitable match for you, sweetheart," he replied implacably.

  "Adali!" she suddenly called, and the majordomo appeared from the shadows of the hall. "Fetch Papa, Adali. Tell him I need to speak with him immediately."

  "At once, my lady," Adali replied, seeing the startled and nervous look upon Kieran Devers's face. He moved quickly from the hall, chuckling to himself as he went. The young man hadn't a chance of escaping Lady Fortune. She had always been a determined child who wanted what she wanted when she wanted it. Since she was not particularly demanding even as a little one, this attitude always came as a surprise to her family when she exhibited it. He found the duke in Maguire's small office going over the breeding schedule. "Lady Fortune would like to see you in the hall, my lord," Adali said.

  "Tell her I will be there shortly," the duke responded.

  "I think you had best come now, my lord," Adali persisted. "Lady Fortune has told Master Devers that they are to marry, but he demurs, believing he is not good enough for her since he has no wealth."

  "God's boots!" the duke swore.