A VERY TUDOR CHRISTMAS by Amanda Mccabe Read Free Book Online Page A

amusement
lurking in his voice. “And my kinsman Lord Ellingham. He was the one who led me
here.”
    Beatrice and Ellingham, conspiring together in this prank? Meg
almost laughed. It was so silly, if it wasn’t also so infuriating! What could
Bea possibly be thinking? “Why would they do such a thing? Bea is mischievous,
’tis true, but not cruel.”
    Meg closed her eyes. Nay, Beatrice was not cruel. So whatever
her intent was in this prank, it was because she thought she was being kind. Had
Meg somehow showed her feelings for Robert to her cousin? She had always been so
careful not to speak of him to anyone.
    Yet here they were, together, alone, with nothing but the hurts
of the past lurking between them like a gray ghost. Meg studied his face, so
close yet so far. He was not the beautiful, laughing young man she remembered,
and had cherished so secretly in her memories. He was harsher, darker, with
secrets of his own in his eyes. He drew her to him even stronger than before, in
a way she had never known before.
    “It’s been so very long, Meg,” he said roughly. “I thought
about it, wondered how it would be when we met again at last.”
    He had thought about her, as she had him? Against her will, Meg
found herself intrigued, curious. “Is—is this how you imagined it?”
    He laughed, the rich, deep sound all-enveloping in the small
room. “Not in the least. But you are more beautiful than ever, Margaret. And I
know your tender heart is still in there.”
    Suddenly, in one lithe, swift movement, he was across the room
and at her side.
    With a rough groan, he dragged her against him and covered her
lips with his. As his tongue slid into her mouth, she met him eagerly, longing
for the emotions only he could make her feel.
    No matter how they had come to this strange, unreal moment, no
matter what would come after, she knew she needed him. It had been coming for
such a very long time, and now it was upon them.
    His fine velvet doublet had been unfastened, and she pushed it
off his shoulders. It fell to the floor and she slid her hands under his thin
linen shirt to touch the warmth of his bare skin. She wanted more and more of
him.
    “Meg,” he whispered. “Are you sure?”
    But she didn’t want him to talk. She didn’t want anything to
yet intrude on this dream.
    She nodded, and in answer he kissed her again, roughly, nothing
held back. Her head fell back as his tongue plunged deep into her mouth. She met
him with her own bound-up passion, her arms holding on to him tightly as she dug
her nails into his back through his shirt.
    He picked her up off her feet and whirled her around until they
tumbled together dizzily to the floor. She was vaguely aware that Beatrice and
Lord Ellingham must have left them provisioned, for they didn’t land on a cold,
bare wooden floor. There were soft blankets piled there, and her foot pushed
over a jug of wine with a metallic clatter. But then Robert was over her, above
her, and he was all she knew.
    He tore his shirt off over his head and tossed it away before
he leaned back into her. He kissed her throat, the soft skin swelling above the
pearl trim of her bodice.
    “How have you become even more beautiful?” he whispered.
    Meg longed to believe him, to believe this moment was real. But
she couldn’t hear his words just then. She wanted nothing to mar her dreams.
    “Shh,” she said. Her hand slid along his strong, muscled back,
and skimmed over his hard backside before she traced the band of his breeches
and tugged their laces free. Maiden she might have been but few others at court
were, and she had listened to their chatter about the bedchamber. And she had
imagined just such a moment with Robert for too long.
    His manhood sprang free from the fabric confines, hard as iron.
She traced her fingertips lightly over its hot length, and he groaned deeply.
Bolder, she touched him closer, up and down, fascinated by it. By him.
    “If you don’t stop, fairest Meg,” he said