Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Blaze disliked thunderstorms. She strove to hide her nervousness, relieved to see her husband's return. Edmund was not aware of her fears, for she took great pains to hide what she now considered a childish anxiety. It had been a dry autumn. The rain that had fallen had done so quietly. Today's unnatural heat seemed to have unleashed an aberrant violence in the weather that followed.

The distant thunder grew in intensity as it drew nearer to RiversEdge. The sky beyond the hills bloomed and faded with bursts of an unearthly pearly light. Blaze was subdued throughout the evening meal. Edmund quietly thoughtful, unaware of her edginess. He was in no mood for an evening of kissing and cuddling that would lead him nowhere. Tony's gibes had stung him harder than he was willing to admit. For the first time since his first wife had died he considered tumbling some serving wench, and looking about the room, his eye lit upon the buxom maidservant now adding logs to one of the fireplaces. His sherry-brown eyes narrowed speculatively. God, how Tony would mock him! He needed more time to think before he made a total fool of himself.

"Go to bed, my sweet," he ordered the surprised Blaze.

She arose obediently, and curtsying to him, left the hall on trembling legs. Why had he chosen tonight of all nights to leave her completely alone? It was ridiculous that she have this fear, but she would master it this night if it killed her. Determined, she marched upstairs to her apartments.

"Prepare my tub," she ordered Heartha and her staff.

"Shall I draw the draperies, my lady?" asked the tiring woman.

Blaze hesitated a moment, then said, "Nay, I would watch the progress of the storm."

She bathed amid a fragrant cloud of sweet violets while outside the night grew pitch black but for the shattering lightning, which was always followed by crashes of thunder.

The young maidservants skittered nervously about the room preparing their mistress's bed, setting out her pale pink silk nightrail with its matching beribboned nightcap, carefully banking the fire in the bedchamber fireplace so that a sudden gust of wind would not encourage it to unruliness. Heartha helped Blaze from her tub, quickly drying her off. The silky night garment was slipped over her head, and slithered noiselessly to her ankles. Lovingly the tiring woman brushed her lady's long brown-gold hair as the tub was dragged from the bedchamber by the serving maids into the receiving chamber, where the footmen were waiting to take it away.

Heartha tied the nightcap's ribbons beneath Blaze's chin, and helped her into bed. "Would you like me or one of the other girls to stay with you on the trundle, my lady? The storm is something fierce, and it ain't peaked yet, I'm thinking."

"Nay," said Blaze bravely with a nonchalance she was absolutely not feeling. "The storm bothers me not. Good night, Heartha."

Heartha curtsied, and with a final pat to the down coverlet hurried from the room, saying, "Sleep well, my lady."

Sleep?She was never going to sleep with all that booming and flashing going on outside her windows. She snuggled deeper into the bed, wishing that she had allowed her servants to draw the draperies. Then she would have had only the thunder to contend with. The wind began to moan and keen around the house. A fierce little gust hissed down her chimney, teasing the fire, which leapt at it, sending eerie shadows to mottle the walls of the room. Blaze shivered, suddenly remembering Old Ada's stories of the ghosts and ghoulies that rode upon the roiling back of storms such as this one.

"I will not be afraid," she whispered aloud to herself, and the very sound of her own voice was somehow comforting.

The night seemed to grow blacker, and the storm now began to mount in its intensity until the very house itself seemed caught directly dead center in the midst of the maelstrom. Blaze's good intentions dissolved amid a roar of thunder that actually shook the house to its foundations, which, coupled with a ferocious crack of lightning that struck one of the chimneys upon the roof directly above her, sent a rattle of bricks cascading down and over the slate roof above her windows.

Terrified, she began to scream. Peal after peal of pure, unadulterated terror. Despite the great noise of the storm, her frightened cries sounded throughout the upper floor of the house. Almost immediately the connecting door between her bedchamber and her husband's burst open as the earl dashed into the room.

"Blaze! What is it, my sweet? What has alarmed you so? Is it a nightmare, my darling?" Edmund was at her bedside, gathering her into his arms. The sweet fragrance of her bath oil made his head reel with desire.

"Th-the s-storm! I h-hate th-thunderstorms!" she sobbed piteously into the fine linen of his nightshirt, for he had not taken the time to put on his dressing gown.

"Why did you not ask one of the maids to stay with you then?" he asked practically.

"It ... it's ch-childish to f-fear th-thunderstorms!" she wept wildly, shivering as another boom sounded overhead. "I ... I did not want you to th-think that I was s-so fainthearted as t-to f-fear a little th-thunderstorm!"

Little thunderstorm?He would have laughed, had her terror not been so real. It was a horrendous storm. One of the worst he had ever known. Her warm, wet tears had soaked his nightshirt through at the shoulder where her face was hidden. She was yet trembling. His hand reached out to stroke her honey-colored hair in a soothing gesture as the thunder crashed once more outside the windows.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" he asked her, thinking as he did that she was the sweetest armful of female that he had ever held.

"Aye, my lord."

Gently he set her back against the feather pillows, catching her gaze with his. Her eyes were like rain-washed crystal violets, and her mouth was quivering with seductive innocence.

"I cannot guarantee my behavior, Blaze. Do you understand what I am saying? I must be completely candid with you about that, my sweet." His look was a serious one.

She caught at her lower lip in consternation, her small even white teeth worrying the pink flesh. "You would make love to me?" she said low.

A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. "You would quickly forget the storm, I promise you," was his answer. "If you prefer, however, I will leave you, my sweet," he finished.

Again Blaze paused to consider her plight, but another fierce shattering of thunder that rattled the windows sent her hurtling back into her husband's arms again. Desperately she clung to him, her soft breasts pressing against his chest. In that single moment Edmund Wyndham's good intentions dissolved. He was a mortal man, not a high-minded knight from some ancient world of courtly love. Blaze was his wife, and he yearned desperately for her. Tony was right! She was his! By God, he would have her, and no more of this nonsense! With a groan of longing he pulled his nightshirt off, tangled his hands into her hair, tipped her head back, and finding her mouth, he kissed her.

His passion surprised her. They had kissed and cuddled these many weeks past, but he had never kissed her as he was kissing her now. It was a demanding kiss that seared her tender lips, forcing them open that his tongue might pillage within the fragrant cave of her mouth. Their tongues met for the first time, and she shuddered with the sensuousness of the new feeling. Warm velvet stroked warm velvet. Her entire body felt weak with the sensation, yet she strained to answer his hunger.

There were no more words left between them now. Edmund kissed her until she moaned pleadingly at him to cease, and so instead his hot mouth sought a path down her satiny throat. Strong fingers shredded the blossom-pink silk of her night garment, yanking the fabric away that he might gaze upon her innocence lit golden by the pale firelight. With another groan he buried his face deep in the valley between her virgin breasts, branding the flesh above her wildly beating heart with another kiss.

Fingers reached out to tease at the nipple of one breast. His touch was almost a relief, she thought, so charged with tension was her whole body. Yet she was not afraid. Nay! There was no fear of what was to come in her mind, for she loved him. In her budding passion she dared to admit it to herself. She had known it almost from the beginning. She loved her husband! What she knew now was that she wanted him to love her. Raising his head, he then lowered it over the little nipple he had been fingering. Shyly Blaze reached out to stroke his dark brown hair. His mouth tugged hungrily upon her flesh, and she whimpered softly. His teeth scored the nipple gently, sending a thrill of pure longing down to her very toes. Fiercely she kneaded the shapely back of his neck.

His other hand began to smooth itself in seductive circles over the sensitive tight skin of her belly, moving ever downward until it slid across one silken thigh. Blaze murmured with open pleasure. His touch was mesmerizing, and she was frankly enjoying it. Playfully his fingers pushed between her closed legs once, twice, remaining the third time to press lightly against her nether lips, which to Blaze's surprise were moist, and encouraged the invading digits forward between them. She gasped when her thighs fell apart seemingly of their own volition.

Edmund raised his head from her lovely breast. "No, my sweet," he reassured her tenderly. "It's all right."

His dark head dropped to her other breast, drawing on it hard at the very same moment he pushed a single finger into her trembling body. Blaze arched against him, shocked by this invasion of her most secret self. The finger withdrew as easily as it had entered, and he pulled himself level with her once more to taste of her lips again.

"You are not afraid of me anymore, are you?" he murmured against the softness of her mouth. Playfully he nibbled upon her lower lip.

"Nay, I am not fearful," she whispered back breathily, "for I find that I love you, my lord," she finished boldly.

"Do you indeed?" he replied, somewhat startled by her honest admission. Then his fingers trailed tenderly back and forth over her cheekbone. "Do you indeed love me, Blaze Wyndham? Could I be so fortunate a man as to have found love twice in a single lifetime?" He kissed her lingeringly, his lips moving softly over hers. He had never wanted her more than he did at this moment, but the unspoken question shining so nakedly in her eyes needed an answer. "And if I loved you, my sweet, would it make you happy?" he asked her.

"Ohhh!" All her vulnerability was there for him to see in that soft sound. Her perfect heart of a face shone with the joy his words brought her. "You love me?" she asked ingenuously.

"From the moment I saw your adorable face in that miniature your mother gave me," he said, "though I have been loath to admit such feelings even to myself."

"Because of Lady Catherine?"

"Aye. I felt it somehow disloyal, but remembering the sweetness of Catherine's nature, I know she would want me to love again, and by the blessed rood, Blaze, I do love you!"

He kissed her hard, and her arms wrapped themselves about his neck, drawing them into a passionate embrace. From that moment on, the world took on a dreamlike quality for Blaze. His tongue seemed to be everywhere on her. In her mouth fencing with her own tongue, teasing at her nipples, boring into the cleft of her navel. Her hands took on a life of their own, smoothing down his back again and again, fondling the rounded curves of his firm buttocks.

She felt his weight suddenly pressing upon her, his legs, unlike his chest, delicately furred and surprisingly soft against her skin. Then she became aware of something hard, warm, and smooth pressing against the inside of her thigh. Instinctively she knew, and she wanted to touch him there. She wanted to know better the means of her destruction, for certainly once they were joined by that fierce yet fragile bridge, her girlhood would be destroyed even as she reemerged in her new incarnation as a woman.

"Let me know you there," she begged him, and he took her hand to let it touch his manhood, no longer covered by civilized velvet as it had been in their past encounters, but hot and taut in its natural state. Her slender fingers caressed him, sliding with a soft and graceful touch back and forth along the length of him, closing about him finally in bold embrace.

Edmund shuddered and a low groan escaped him. "Ahhhh, my sweet! Ahhhhhh!" God's mercy! He could bear no more of her trifling. Her unschooled but wonderful touch had him near to spilling his seed. As her grip relaxed, he pushed her hand away. "Enough, Blaze!" he said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, my lord, have I not pleased you? I thought you enjoyed it when I touched your manhood." There was genuine distress in her voice.

Pinioning her beneath him, he raised himself so he might look down into her face. "There are times, my sweet wife, when a man's desire for his woman overcomes all else. This is one of those times. I would have you, Blaze, and I would have you now!" he growled.

Beneath him he felt her legs part widely for him. Her beautiful face shone with her love for him. It was almost fierce in its look. "Then have me, my lord, I await you!" she cried out.

In that moment his admiration for her was almost as great as his love. What sons they would breed up together! He waited no longer, thrusting hard into her eager young body. There was but a momentary impediment to her passage, and he saw pain spring into her eyes, but she bravely pushed up against him, and he drove his weapon deeply home.

For a moment Blaze believed that she was to be torn asunder, so fierce was his passionate assault. He had battered against her maidenhead, but to her surprise it had given way fairly easily. Now he lay atop her, allowing her a moment to recover herself, and she felt the bigness of him within her passage throbbing his message of love. Then he began to move upon her, pressing deeply into her, then almost completely withdrawing himself so that she whimpered for his return, twisting beneath him, straining upward to prevent his escape. In her semiconscious state Blaze suddenly realized that here was pleasure heretofore unknown. She understood now why Vanora had been able to gain so much knowledge in their father's stables, for surely this was paradise, this conjunction between a man and a woman.

She was not even aware that her nails raked savagely down her husband's strong back, leaving in their wake bloodied welts. She did not realize that she thrashed wildly beneath Edmund, begging him over and over again to continue this incredible pleasure lest she die. Blaze soared, soared to the stars and beyond, while above her Edmund loosed his pentup torrent in an effort to quell her raging fires, totally amazed to see his virgin bride had galloped the entire course of passion.

He rolled off her finally, and they lay together gasping with their mutual exertion. Reaching out, he caught her hand in his and squeezed it, delighted to feel her squeeze back. In a sudden flash of memory he remembered his wedding night with Catherine, and how she had wept and carried on for hours after he had claimed his husbandly rights. Despite the fact that he had loved her well, and she had tried so hard to give him children, she had never really enjoyed their coming together. She had certainly never responded to him or his lovemaking as Blaze had just done.

Almost fearfully he said, "I did not hurt you, Blaze, did I?"

She sighed lavishly. " 'Twas but momentary, my lord, and quickly forgotten, so sweet was the afterwards. Can we make love again now?"

His laughter had almost a relieved quality to it, though she did not notice. "A man needs more time to recover from love's combat than does a woman, my sweet. Give me but a little time, and we shall indeed make love again."

"Ohh, Edmund, I never knew that anything could be so very wonderful! Do you think we may have conceived a child?"

"It is possible," he said quietly. "Time will tell us that."

"We must not stop making love until we are quite certain," she replied. "I want a large family, my lord. I hope you are prepared for it."

"Madam, I will do my very best to accede to your wishes." He chuckled, amused by the seriousness of her attitude in the matter.

Suddenly he found her leaning over him, and her mouth touched his teasingly. "Are you recovered your strength yet, sir?" Her little pointed tongue snaked across his lips daringly.

To his surprise, he felt hot desire begin to roil within his loins. God's nightshirt! She was making him feel like a stripling of eighteen again!

"Love me, my lord Edmund," she murmured, and he could see the smoky desire filling her eyes.

Reaching up, he caressed a plump young breast, and she whimpered softly. His eyes narrowed speculatively, and then filled with pleasure as he realized that in taking her virginity he had unleashed an incredible pent-up well of passion within his sweet wife. She was like a young mare come into her first season, and he would have to be a strong stallion to satisfy her longings. It was not an unpleasant thought. Rolling her over beneath him, he kissed her almost cruelly, crushing her soft lips with his, yet feeling her respond with a wildness he hadn't even known could exist in a woman. There was no time for niceties, for he found himself hard and eager for her, and as for Blaze, she was as eager, her newly opened passage wet and hungry for him. With an almost pained cry he drove into her!

At various intervals throughout the rest of the night they made fierce and passionate love, until finally in the first pearly light of dawn they slept, tangled together in pure and utter exhaustion. Heartha, entering her mistress's chamber at the usual hour, gaped with wide eyes upon the scene, and then with a broad smile splitting her face, backed from the room to hurry off so she might spread the good news that the young countess was no longer a virgin. That an heir to the earldom was now but a simple matter of time!

In the days that followed, Blaze and Edmund's deepening passion for one another became openly obvious to all. They could not bear to be away from one another for too long a time. They touched constantly, and their languishing looks at one another were, in Heartha's pithy opinion, "like to set the hayricks afire." They spent the long autumn nights behind closed doors, and did not arise until the sun was well past the horizon. If Blaze did not conceive a child immediately, it was not from want of trying.

Family was forgotten in their newly born love, and Lady Dorothy, arriving early one mid-November afternoon to discuss the Christmas celebration at RiversEdge with her brother's wife, was vastly amused, and secretly delighted, to be told that the earl and his wife were "resting" in milady's bedchamber. With a rich chuckle and all the tact of a seasoned diplomat, Lady Dorothy withdrew, leaving a message that she had called and would return on the morrow.

Anthony Wyndham was not so amused, and his irritation with both Blaze and Edmund puzzled him. Why should he care that his uncle and new aunt were in love, were obviously striving to create an heir for Langford? He had never coveted Edmund's holding, believing it but a matter of time before an heir was born. He had been as disappointed as Edmund and Catherine had been when their deeply cherished hopes were dashed time and time again. He had been equally pleased when Edmund had remarried, even if he did not believe Blaze the right bride, for God only knew the earldom of Langford with all its wealth could have brought an heiress, and not this poverty-stricken little girl of English and Welsh heritage with only her fertile mother to recommend her.

Arriving at RiversEdge late one morning, he rode into the stableyard to find it deserted. Undoubtedly the grooms and stablemen were all out exercising the horses. Dismounting, he walked his own sweating animal about for a few minutes to cool him down, and then led him into the semidarkened stables to tether him in an empty stall. As he dumped a small measure of grain into the bin for his horse he heard the distinct sound of a woman's laughter in the rear of the building. It was followed by a man's deeper laughter. Curious, he moved silently toward the sound to catch the servants who would amuse themselves on their master's time. Perhaps he would tumble the guilty wench himself as the price for his silence. He grinned wolfishly as he approached the stall from which distinct sounds of loving combat were now emitting. Perhaps it was that great creature with the big breasts who hefted logs so easily into the fireplaces of the Great Hall. Anthony licked his lips in anticipation, and peeped over the side of the stall.

To his immense shock, he saw not a pair of miscreant servants, but his uncle sprawled over the half-clothed body of his wife, pumping valiantly away upon her. For a moment he stood frozen and staring down at the erotic living tableau. Blaze had long legs for a petite woman, and she wore black knitted stockings gartered with rosettes set just below the tops of her white, white thighs. Her skirts were about her waist, and her bodice was wide open, revealing two plump, round creamy breasts, each topped by a bright cherry of a nipple. Her eyes were closed, the lids almost mauve in color. Her head was thrown back, her mouth open to emit soft moans of obvious pleasure. Her honey-colored hair was totally undone.

"Ahhhhh, sweetheart! Ahhhhh!" groaned Edmund in his ecstasy.

"Ohhh, my darling, yes! Yes! Yes!" Blaze cried in return.

Galvanized by the sound of their voices, Anthony recovered himself and slipped shaken from the stables. For the briefest of moments he had, as he watched the couple, imagined himself in Edmund's place. Thought of what it would be like to plunge himself deep into Blaze's eager sweetness. For the tiniest heartbeat he had envied Edmund, and he wanted to yank him off the writhing woman beneath him and take his place. With that admission came the horrifying realization that he desired his uncle's wife. He wanted Blaze for his own!

Anthony Wyndham closed his eyes, anguished. Was he in love with Blaze, or had the blatant sensuousness of the scene merely aroused his own lusts so that they fastened upon Edmund's bride? He did not honestly know. I have got to take a wife of my own, he thought desperately. If I do not find myself a bride and settle down to the business of having my own family, I shall never really be happy. Automatically he walked toward the house and was admitted entry.

"My lord and my lady are out riding," said the majordomo. "They are expected back soon, Master Anthony, if you would care to await them."

He nodded blindly, and was led into the library, where a warm apple-wood fire burned. Throwing himself into a chair, he accepted the goblet of Rhenish that the attending footman handed him before leaving him to his thoughts. God's foot! She was so lovely! So damnably lovely! Even now the reminiscence left him burning with desire, and he was ashamed. Blaze was a respectable woman who had never offered him the slightest encouragement. She was in love with her husband, who was not just his uncle, but the best friend he had in all the world. What kind of a man coveted his best friend's wife? The very thought made him almost physically ill.

Abruptly he stood up. He had to leave. He had to go before they even knew that he was here. How could he face them, having seen what he had seen in the darkened stable, and feeling as he now did? Before he could stop himself, the memory slammed into him again. The shaft of sunlight filled with dancing dust, the golden beam grazing her bare knee only to bury itself in the straw upon which she lay. The rustle of that straw. The groans of pleasure from Edmund, coupled with the little cries of rapture that issued forth from Blaze's straining throat.

"Tony!" Edmund had entered his library unheard or unseen by his nephew. "By the rood, you are deep in thought, man! What brings you to RiversEdge?"

For a moment Anthony could not focus his eyes, but when he did he felt almost a sense of physical pain, for his uncle's face shone with such happiness that the younger man's guilt assailed him sorely.

"Tony? Is anything amiss?" Edmund had noticed his nephew's discomfort.

Quickly Anthony regained control of himself, and said, "Nay, Edmund, nothing is wrong. Mother sent me over because she would invite you to my birthday celebration on the thirtieth. Will you and Blaze come?"

"November the thirtieth? Good Lord, Tony!" the earl exploded. "That is Blaze's birthday too! She will be sixteen. Had you not reminded me, I should have forgotten all about it. My mind is otherwise occupied these days. Nay, we will not come to Riverside. It is you who must come here. I must plan a surprise fete for my bride! What can I give her? I know! I shall send for some of her sisters to come! Is that not a wonderful idea? She misses her family greatly, you know."

"Aye, 'twould be a fine gift, Edmund," Anthony answered low.

"Give you a chance to look over Blaze's sisters and consider whether one of them might not make you a suitable wife. You're past thirty, nephew! I'm but four years your senior, and I'm already on my second wife, while you've had none," teased Edmund. "Believe me, Tony, a pretty young wife is a wonderful thing! I've never been happier!"

"So," Anthony said in what he hoped was his formerly mocking banter, "you have at long last breached your bride's maiden defenses. It took you long enough, uncle."

"Ahhhh," chortled Edmund, "but she was well worth the wait, nephew! Catherine, may God assoil her sweet soul, was never enthusiastic about our coupling, though she did it gladly enough to gain us children. Blaze, however, is a different story. Never have I known such passion in a woman! The little witch is nigh to wearing me out, Tony! No wonder Lord Morgan spawned himself nine children. These things are inherited, and certainly the mother is as passionate as the daughter. You would not do badly to take one of Blaze's sisters for your own. Your nights would be spent in paradise, I assure you!"

"I shall certainly consider it," replied Anthony dryly, "and I shall pass your message on to my mother about surprising my aunt."

Anthony returned to his own home to find his mother thoroughly approved her brother's idea of surprising his bride with a fete on her sixteenth birthday.

"Blaze's birthday is more important than yours," she told her startled son. Then she smiled archly. "I like the idea of Edmund's asking his sisters-in-law to come. It will give us an opportunity to look them over to see which one would be a suitable wife for you, Tony."

"I do not think Edmund will ask all of the Morgan sisters this time. Besides, only two or three of them are old enough to marry. Have you considered the possibility, Mother, that none will suit me?" Anthony teased his parent.

"Nonsense," bristled Lady Wyndham. "They are bound to be pretty, which is an advantage. They all have respectable dowries, thanks to Edmund, and other than that, all you want is a healthy, strong young breeder, my lad. You need only pick the one who is most amiable to you. It is quite simple."

"Nay, Mother, it is not. I would have love both from and for my wife," he answered her.

"God's foot, Tony! You sound like a moonstruck virgin," snapped his mother, "and that I know you are not!"

"Do you not love my father?" he demanded.

"Of course I love your father, but it is a love that came and grew after our marriage. You know that Edmund and I have different mothers. Mine, God assoil her, was as plain as a pikestaff, and so am I! Your grandfather was not a man to waste gold needlessly, and he quickly saw that not even a great dowry would gain me a great marriage. On the other hand, his younger brother's heir was willing to have me for what your grandfather considered a more reasonable dowry. So I was wed to your father, who is a kind and good man whom I have grown to love and respect over the years.

"A marriage, Tony, must be worked at to succeed. You choose a good girl from a good family with a decent portion with whom you can get on, and then you strive to make your happiness. That is the way it has always been. What is this foolishness you prattle about love? Love will come if you seek it, but it comes after a match, certainly not before!"

He did not argue with her, for it would have done him no good. How could he explain to his mother that he was already in love? In love with Edmund's wife. Or was it love? Perhaps his mother was right after all. Perhaps love came after a marriage, and not before. Certainly it had been that way with Edmund and Blaze. He would keep from RiversEdge until the thirtieth, for it would give his emotions time to cool. Then with a clear mind and conscience he would attend Blaze's birthday fete prepared to choose one of her sisters for his wife.

He was surprised, however, to discover some ten days later that life did not always go as smoothly as one planned. Arriving at RiversEdge with his parents, he found that he was not the only eligible male invited to the feast. Owen FitzHugh, the Earl of Marwood, was already there. So was Lord Nicholas Kingsley of Kirkwood. Bliss, Blythe, and Delight Morgan had already arrived to surprise their eldest sister.

Lady Dorothy hummed her approval beneath her breath. "As pretty a trio of pigeons as I've ever seen," she said with a smile at both her husband and her son. "Any one of the three will do, my lad, but you had best move quickly. Nick Kingsley and Owen FitzHugh will not stand tongue-tied and idle with such quarry about, and both are wife hunting I am told."

"Which one would you prefer, Mother?" he teased her.

"The older the better for breeding purposes," she returned, not one whit put out by his sarcasm.

Her husband chuckled. "He may not have the choice, my love," noted Lord Richard. "See how one of the twins stalks poor Marwood, and the other, Kingsley is clearly smitten with her. I think Lord Morgan will soon find himself short several daughters."

Lord Wyndham of Riverside was a perceptive man, as his wife well knew, and looking more closely, she was distressed. Bliss Morgan had clearly set her sights upon Owen FitzHugh, and was flirting with him in a most charmingly outrageous manner. The Earl of Marwood, who spent most of his time at the king's court, was both amused and enchanted by her, for although she was bold, her innocence was clearly apparent.

Her identical twin was obviously the opposite side of the coin, and where Bliss was forward, Blythe was shyer. This character trait was evidently most appealing to Nicholas Kingsley, who had a bemused and besotted look upon his face as he hovered about Blythe like a moth about a candle.

"Doro! Richard! Nephew! Welcome to my wife's birthday fete," said Edmund Wyndham, coming forward with Blaze. They were both smiling, and Anthony felt a momentary pain in his chest.

Blaze curtsied prettily to the gentlemen, but then caught at her sister-in-law's hand to draw her forward. "Come and meet my sisters, Doro! Edmund has brought them to RiversEdge to surprise me! Was that not the most wonderful birthday gift?!"

"Surely he has given you something else as well," the good lady commented with a twinkle in her eye.

"Ohh, yes! My lord is the most generous of husbands, and you shall see his generosity tonight. Sapphires, Doro! The most beautiful necklace and earbobs of blue sapphires with just the merest hint of violet in them. Edmund says they reminded him of my eyes."

"My brother waxes poetic these days," chuckled Lady Dorothy.

The earl flushed at his elder sister's words, much to her great amusement. "Do not tease me, Doro," he said pleadingly. "I cannot help it if I am in love with this minx."

Dorothy Wyndham reached out with her free hand and gently touched her brother's cheek. "You deserve to be happy, dearest," she said quietly before she was drawn off by Blaze, who hurried her away across the room to meet her siblings.

The elder Lady Wyndham openly assessed the trio presented to her. The twins, who had turned fifteen earlier in the month, were both exquisite beauties. Though identical, she quickly found that the key to identifying them correctly was in their countenances. The indomitable Bliss had a sharpness of expression that was missing in the sweeter look of gentle Blythe. No honey-tongued miss, this one, thought Lady Dorothy. It was well she had set her sights upon Owen FitzHugh, for Bliss would be at constant sword's point with Anthony, his mother could easily see. As for the other twin, Lady Dorothy could see she was too soft a creature for Tony. He would be bored within a week.

Her glance turned to the youngest of the trio. "And who, my dear Blaze, is this pretty wench?" she demanded with a toothy smile.

"This is Delight," replied Blaze with a smile. "She is my parents' fourth-born."

Lady Dorothy assessed Delight openly, and decided that she was a pretty girl with her dark brown curls, and her deep blue eyes. "And how old are you, my child?" she asked Delight.

"I will be fourteen June seventh next," came the pert reply. "My womanhood is upon me, and I am ready to wed."

"Delight!" shrieked her scandalized elder sisters.

" 'Pon my soul!" laughed Lady Dorothy. "You are most frank, child."

"I think Master Anthony is the handsomest man in the whole world," sighed Delight.

"Do you indeed?" His mother smiled. "Well, I shall tell you a secret, Delight. I think Anthony is the handsomest man in the world too. He does not take after me a bit, thank heaven! He is all Wyndham."

"Why is he not wed then?" was Delight's query, much to her sisters' chagrin.

"He has not found the right girl yet," was the reply.

"Delight, there is a smudge of dirt upon your left cheek, and your hair is now in disarray because of your romp with the puppies. Go and repair your coiffure and wash your face," ordered Blaze. "Mother would be so shocked."

With a quick curtsy to her sister and Lady Dorothy, the young girl hurried off.

"You must forgive her," said Blaze. "It is her first time away from home, and she has always had the habit of saying exactly what comes into her head."

"A most embarrassing habit," said Bliss tartly, and Lady Dorothy decided for good and all that Bliss Morgan would be a most unsuitable daughter-in-law.

"Delight did not mean to be rude, madam," said Blythe. "I believe she harbors a secret tenderness for Lord Anthony. She is but nearly come to womanhood, and like most girls in her state, apt to be overly romantic."

"I find her a charming child, as are you, my dear," replied Lady Dorothy, deliberately leaving out Bliss, who, though wise to the slight done her, was obviously not in the least put out by it.

That evening Lady Dorothy could see most clearly how the wind blew with regard to her matchmaking. A marvelous feast was held in the Great Hall of RiversEdge. All the gentry within the region had been invited to celebrate the young countess's sixteenth birthday. Many eligible young men crowded about the Morgan sisters, who were gowned and bejeweled to befit their natural beauty.

Blaze wore a gown of violet-colored velvet, its heavily embroidered underskirt encrusted with gold, pearls, and crystal beads. The square neckline of the gown was low, and her lovely round breasts swelled dangerously above the fabric. The bell-like sleeves were sewn with gold threads and pearls. She wore her birthday gift from her husband—a magnificent necklace and matching earbobs of violet-blue sapphires set in rich gold. Lady Dorothy was pleased to see, despite a coterie of admirers, that Blaze had eyes only for her husband, who could not resist reaching out occasionally and touching his bride's pretty curls.

The twins were garbed in a rich-looking midnight-blue velvet whose lighter blue underskirts were embroidered in silver threads and seed pearls. When the sisters had been invited to RiversEdge they had been told that new wardrobes awaited them so they need bring nothing but themselves. In their wildest imaginations they had not dreamed that such luxuries as Edmund Wyndham provided for them could exist. Bliss and Blythe's lovely yellow-blond hair was held back with silver ribbons, and about their necks were strands of fine pearls interspersed with pink crystal beads.

As for Delight Morgan, she could barely contain her excitement, for her very grown-up gown was a deep ruby-red velvet whose red silk underskirt was embroidered in black silk threads. Red velvet ribbons contained her luxuriant dark chestnut curls, and about her slender little neck and in her ears sparkled garnets of the first quality. Though the twins teased her about her lack of a bosom, her happiness could not be deflated. Her blue eyes followed Anthony Wyndham wherever he went, although the gentleman knew it not. Nor could he know of her innocent prayers to the Blessed Mother that he fall in love with her. She would have been heartbroken to know that he thought of her only as a charming child.

After the feasting was over, the tables in the Great Hall were pushed aside, and there was dancing. The other gentlemen soon found themselves cut out with regard to the twins by milords FitzHugh and Kingsley. Soon, however, in the general merriment and drinking that went on, no one even noticed that Bliss and Blythe were absent from the company. Blythe, her small hand tucked through Lord Kingsley's arm, walked quietly with him in the picture gallery of RiversEdge. Their low conversation could not be overheard by anyone, but had there been anyone there to view the scene, Nicholas Kingsley's open and complete adoration of the girl with whom he walked was easily discernible upon his homely face. Blythe did not seem in the least distressed by her companion's plain features. Rather she seemed to hang upon his every word.

As for Bliss, she found herself suddenly in a rather deserted alcove at one end of the Great Hall, where, though she could easily hear the sound of gaiety from her eldest sister's birthday celebration, neither she nor her companion could be seen. Owen FitzHugh towered over her, a wolfish look upon his very handsome, somewhat sharp features. He grinned down at her, and Bliss, looking back up at him, had to force herself not to shiver.

"Well, puss, here we are," the Earl of Marwood said quietly.

"Indeed, sir, and why are we here?" she countered bravely.

"So I might kiss you, pretty puss. You have the most adorable mouth, but then that is obvious, and you have undoubtedly been told it a hundred times or more," he said.

"Nay, sir, I have not," Bliss answered him. "My sisters and I lead quiet, indeed almost solitary lives at Ashby." Her look was cool, but her heart was hammering with excitement. So this was flirting!

"You have not been courted before?" His look was disbelieving.

"Are you then courting me, sir?" Her sapphire-blue eyes feigned surprise.

He pinioned her gently against the stone wall of the alcove, saying as he did, "Mayhap, so give me a kiss then, puss," but Bliss managed to duck away from his faulty aim.

"Sir!" Her tone was one of outrage. "Our parents have warned us of such lechery as yours. My kisses are saved for he who weds me, and are not to be given lightly or carelessly to any who ask! Release me this instant!"

"Are you telling me that you have never been kissed, Mistress Morgan?" His dark eyes searched her beautiful face for the truth. She was the most exquisite creature he had ever beheld, and he knew even as he trifled with her that he must have her for his own. He would have to spend the rest of his life guarding her virtue from others, lest he find himself cuckolded. Such beauty as Bliss Morgan's led only to trouble, yet even acknowledging this truth, he could never let another man have her.

"Nay, my lord earl," said Bliss sweetly, sensing her victory, "I have never been kissed by any man but my father. You seek my kisses, do you not? What value do you place upon them, then?" The prey had become the predator.

Owen FitzHugh was not so easily led by his lust, however. He grinned wickedly at her and drawled, "I must sample your wares, Mistress Morgan, before I can place a price upon them."

"Innocence once given, sir, cannot be restored," she replied. "Do you take me for a fool that I should allow you to have for naught that which is my greatest treasure?"

"It is not your virginity I seek at this moment, pretty puss, just a kiss," he mocked her.

"My first kiss," Bliss said pridefully, blushing at his bold words.

"A first kiss is sweet for its innocence, and honors the recipient," he told her bluntly, "but as kisses go, a maiden's first efforts are usually childish, and 'tis somewhat like kissing a mackerel with its lack of passion."

"Ohhhhhhh!" Both Bliss's look and tone were of pure outrage, and furiously she hit at Owen FitzHugh with closed fists.

It was exactly the opportunity he sought. Catching her wrists in his strong grasp he forced her arms to her sides while pressing her body with his against the dark stone wall of the alcove. There was no way in which she could escape him, and there at his leisure he took her first kiss, moving his mouth sensuously over hers until with a helpless little moan Bliss's lips parted beneath his.

"Now, puss," he murmured against her quivering mouth, "that's over and done with, and I will teach you how to really kiss. You had best learn to please me, Bliss, for know now that you'll never kiss another as long as I have breath in my body!"

Bliss felt wild exultation pouring through her. She had never ever suspected that passion could be so wonderfully exciting as it was proving to be. The moment he had first looked at her earlier today she had known that he was the man for her, and now, her mouth dry with longing, Bliss looked up at Owen FitzHugh, and said but two words. "Teach me!" But before he might comply, a warning voice interrupted them.

"I cannot allow you to compromise my young sister-in-law, Owen," said Edmund Wyndham.

Releasing Bliss, the Earl of Marwood turned to face his host. "I intend escorting Bliss home to ask her father's permission for her hand in marriage, Edmund."

The Earl of Langford nodded. "You will have company then in Nick Kingsley, who it seems has fallen under the spell of Mistress Blythe, and intends a similar mission."

"Ohh, how wonderful!" cried Bliss, clapping her hands together with joy. "It would have been so awful if Blythe and I did not find happiness together. I could not have left her alone, but now she will have a husband also! Ohh, come, my lord! Hurry! I would be the first to wish my twin happy!" Catching at his hand, she dragged him impatiently from their rendezvous back down the hall.

"Blythe will want to be the first to wish us happy as well!" she finished, while behind her Edmund chuckled.

"Does that mean what I think it means?" said Dorothy Wyndham coming up to stand beside her brother. "Is Marwood offering for her?"

"Aye," he answered her. "And Kingsley has declared himself for Blythe."

"God's foot!" swore Dorothy Wyndham. "I had hoped to have one of them for Tony."

"Neither would have suited Tony," replied her brother.

She nodded. "You are right, but yet with all of Blaze's sisters there must be one that would suit my son. I suppose we must settle for Delight."

"Delight is naught but a child, Doro!" the earl exclaimed.

"She says her womanhood is upon her, and can I doubt her word? Besides she already adores Tony, which is all to the good."

"Whatever Delight may say, she is not yet a woman. The child has no breasts, Doro, and is yet tiny. Were she a woman her bosom would be swelling and she would gain height. She is near, but not yet ready for marriage. Tony will have to seek elsewhere for a wife, I fear."

"Every eligible girl for miles is either wed, or betrothed, or too young," complained his sister. "There is not even an available widow! Tony's lack of interest in finding a wife to date is now hampering him. I do not know what we can do, Edmund. Perhaps he should go to court to seek a wife."

"The court is no place right now to find a respectable wife, but mayhap he will meet someone with a sister or daughter who needs a husband. Aye, Doro. Send him to court after Twelfth Night. His future could possibly be awaiting him there. God only knows there is nothing here for him."