Until You Read Free Page A

kiss him hungrily. She shuddered as their mouths met that first time. Or was it for the first time?
    Finally he drew away, saying as he did, “I am hardly a young man, madame.”
    “I know,” she replied.
    “I have seen a half century,” he answered. “I could be your father.”
    “But you are not my father, my lord,” Rosamund told him. “You are older than Owein Meredith, but younger than Hugh Cabot. We are drawn to each other, although I do not know why or how this is. I know that you feel it, too, for I have seen it in your eyes.” She reached out and gently caressed his cheek. “So here we are, my lord earl, and what are we to do?”
    “Will you believe me when I tell you that I have never before felt with a woman as I do with you, madame?”
    “My name is Rosamund,” she told him, nodding. “And like you, I have never felt quite this way before, my lord.”
    “My name is Patrick,” he answered.
    “Are we bewitched, Patrick?” she asked him.
    “By whom or what?” he wondered aloud.
    She shook her head. “I do not know. I am new here and know few.”
    “As am I,” he replied. “I have not been to court since I returned to Scotland from San Lorenzo many years ago.”
    “San Lorenzo?” She looked puzzled.
    “It is a small duchy on the Mediterranean Sea. I was sent as the king’s first ambassador to set up a friendly port where our trading vessels might find safety, water, and supplies,” the earl explained.
    “Then you have traveled, Patrick. I have never wanted to travel, for I love my home. I always hated going to court. But now, suddenly, I am ripe for adventure.” She smiled mischievously, and his heart contracted almost painfully.
    He reached out again and enfolded her in his embrace. “I want to make love to you,” he said softly. He kissed her slowly, his mouth demanding yet gentle. “I cannot believe I would be so damned bold with someone I have only just met, and yet I feel as if we have known each other forever. And you feel it, too, Rosamund. I saw the surprise of recognition in your eyes earlier. I do not understand it, and yet it is happening.”
    “I know,” she agreed. “I do not know what to do. Do you? Should we follow our instincts? Or should we decide this is some madness, and part from each other? You must decide for us, Patrick, for I am much too afraid to do so, and I have never before been a coward when facing life.”
    “Neither have I,” he said. “So despite what common sense would tell us, my fair Rosamund, let us follow our instincts and see where they will lead us.” He kissed her again. “Are you ready for the journey?”
    “My family’s motto is Tracez Votre Chemin —Make Your Own Path. If we are to follow our instincts, my lord, then that is exactly what I shall do,” she told him, looking up into his handsome face. He did not look to her as if he had lived a half century, even if there were small lines about his eyes. And looking into those eyes she once again felt an overwhelming sensation of giddy excitement.
    “So, dear cousin, this is where you have gotten to,” a familiar voice broke into her thoughts, into the privacy of their new world. “And who, dear Rosamund, is this gentleman who would drag you out into the cold night? God’s foot! I am frozen just seeking you, dear girl.”
    She laughed as his voice brought her back to reality. “This, my lord of Glenkirk, is my cousin Thomas Bolton, Lord Cambridge. He escorted me from Friarsgate, and is, he assures me, enjoying himself immensely, having never believed the Scots could be so civilized, he says.”
    Patrick knew immediately what Thomas Bolton was, and the irritating jealously he had felt at the arrival of the other man drained away. He smiled and held out his big hand to shake that of Rosamund’s cousin. “I saw her well protected before I brought her out, my lord. The sky above, however, is well worth it.” The earl drew up Rosamund’s hood again in a tender gesture. “We