A Woman of Passion Read Online Free PDF Page A

how can you say such things?”
    “Because I know for a fact Henry has propositioned her! She confided it to her sister, in strictest secrecy. Naturally her sister couldn't wait to tell me.”
    “Oh, poor Catherine.”
    “Don't feel too sorry for her, Margaret. She's been married to two rich, old husbands and knows to perfection how to manage men. She's learned how to suck more than persimmons. Catholic too,” sniffed Frances, who was staunchly Protestant.
    “But if she loves Thomas Seymour—”
    “God's balls, Margaret, love pales into insignificance when pitted against ambition. Why settle for the king's brother-in-law, when the king himself waggles his weapon?”
    “You think she has aspirations to be queen?”
    “I do. What does she have to lose besides her head?” Frances slapped her plump thigh with mirth, and Bess bit her lips to keep from laughing at such shocking irreverence.
    “But if he is having his way with her, he has no need to wed her,” Margaret pointed out.
    “I didn't say he was having his way with her; I said he had propositioned her. Catherine is wise enough to let him dip his dickie once, then cut him off. Cockteasing is still the surest method of trapping a husband.”
    Bess sat listening, absorbing the noblewomen's lessons about men. She felt disappointed when Lady Margaret'sdaughters came running into the salon and interrupted the conversation.
    “May we please go to the stables with Lady Jane, Mother? She has a new white palfrey.”
    “Bess will go with you, but you must promise to be careful.”
    Frances assured her friend, “There are dozens of grooms, Margaret; your young ladies will be perfectly safe.” She smiled at Bess. “You must select a mount for yourself while you're down there; we are having a hunt tomorrow.”
    Bess's spirits soared.
    “Oh, I don't think we will join you, Frances. I haven't ridden since I was in Derbyshire last year,” Margaret demurred.
    Bess's spirits plummeted.
    “Lud, Margaret, if I can cram my bulk into a saddle, you can make the effort. No one shall be excused; everyone rides, children and all. Let the bloody grooms earn their pay.”
    Inside the vast stables the girls discovered a litter of kittens nesting in the hay. They swooped them up in their arms with cries of delight and carried them outside. So that the mother cat would not be distressed, Bess picked her up and began to stroke her with murmured endearments. The black and white feline, unused to such gentle attention, nestled in the crook of her arm and began to purr. “Sweet puss, do you like to be stroked?”
    Bess jumped as a shadow loomed above her. The cat took such alarm, it left a long scratch on her thumb as it leapt to safety.
    “Sweet puss,” Cavendish murmured, pleased to see her the moment he rode in and dismounted.
    Bess gasped at the pain in her thumb and at his closeness.
    “Did you come to meet me?” he teased.
    “You have a fine conceit of yourself, sir.” She waved her thumb. “This is the second time you've wounded me.”
    He took her hand and saw the blood upon her creamy skin. For one erotic moment he pictured drops of blood across a creamy thigh, and the urge rose up in him to take her right there in the hay. Instead, he removed his riding glove and stroked her thumb with his, brushing the blood away. He stroked again. “Do you purr?”
    She looked him directly in the eye. “I have claws.”
    “Sheathe them,” he murmured huskily. Sheathe me! he invited silently.
    Bess lowered her lashes, knowing they were long and dark and pretty. “We shouldn't be alone.” With cool deliberation she pulled her hand from his.
    “If I hadn't thought we could be alone together, I wouldn't have come. Besides, we're not alone; we're in a stable filled with grooms and children.” Cavendish turned and spoke to his manservant, who hovered at a discreet distance. “Take my bags up, James. I'll follow shortly.”
    Bess stepped away and spoke to him over her shoulder.