'You're wrong, Fortune. Your mother understands all too well.' He stroked her hair. 'You've been so sheltered, and so wonderfully spoiled, sweetheart. 'Tis you who don't understand, or perhaps you want your way so badly that you don't want to understand.'
Fortune sniffled, and put her head against his broad shoulder.
'I am a Catholic, Fortune. I made that decision long ago, and I find no reason to change my thinking on the matter now. Still, I will be neither martyr nor bigot regarding religion. That is the one thing the church was never able to drum into my head. I worship as a Catholic because I am comfortable doing so. You worship as a member of England's Anglican church because you are content that way. Each of our faiths has enemies who would destroy the other. It would seem in order to live in peace we must choose one, or the other. Your mother offers us the possibility of a place where we may each be able to worship as we choose, and not how someone else tells us we must worship.'
'Such a place does not exist now,' Fortune said sadly.
'If Sir George Calvert could found a colony where such a way of life was possible, would you not want to live there, sweetheart? Perhaps it is that place each of us has been seeking all our lives.'
'But where would such a place be?' she asked him.
He shrugged. 'I am not certain, but I think, perhaps, in the New World across the ocean. Let us spend the summer here in Ireland, falling more and more in love with each other, Fortune. Then come the autumn we will go to England with your parents. We will meet Sir George, and see what he has to say to us about this wonderful world he wants to make where we may worship freely as we choose.'
'But when will we wed?' she persisted.
'Hopefully before we leave for England,' he replied. 'Your parents are not against us, sweetheart. They simply want to make certain that we truly love one another. I am willing to be patient, and so must you. Now, here is Michael with our horses. Come, my love, and let us ride out over the hills where we first met.'
They rode out together, slowly through the village, then racing across the meadows, the sheep scattering before them. Fortune laughed, the sound echoing on the wind. Finally they topped the hill where they had first met. Below them the lough spread itself blue, melting into the blue-green hills hovering mistily towards the west. They dismounted, and stood looking out over the land.
'It is beautiful,' she said, 'but 'tis not home.' Removing her cloak, she spread it on the grass, and sat down.
'Nay,' he agreed, sitting next to her. 'I've looked out over these hills all my life, and never felt the kinship with it that I should.' Putting his arm about her he drew her down, and then leaning over her he kissed her, tenderly at first, and then with more passion.
How odd, Fortune thought, her mind hazy, I have absolutely no desire to hit him. She slipped her arms about his neck, drawing him closer, feeling her breasts give way beneath the hardness of his chest.
Raising his dark head Kieran smiled a slow smile at her. He rolled onto his back, and stared up at the sky. His male member was quivering with rising excitement. She really had no idea what was happening to either him or to her. How far, he wondered, would she allow him to go? He turned back to her, lying on his side, propped up by a single elbow. Then with his other hand he reached out and unbuttoned the silver buttons on her doublet.
She watched him through half-closed eyes, her heart beating a bit faster as the last button slipped through its buttonhole. His hand reached out to very, very gently caress the soft swell of her bosom. She drew an audible breath, her blue-green eyes widening at the burst of excitement that rippled through her body. How far would he dare to go? she considered nervously. Was she willing to allow him greater liberties? Would he stop if she asked him to?
His fingers played with the lacing on her silk shirt. Swiftly he loosened it. The ribbons of her chemise lay within reach of those fingers. His eyes met hers, silently asking permission to proceed further. He bent a moment, and lightly kissed her mouth.
Her whole body felt leaden. She couldn't move. She couldn't say no to him. She wanted him to open her chemise. She wanted him to touch her breasts. Once when she was small she had seen her mother's lover, Prince Henry Stuart, caress Jasmine's bare breasts. The look of pleasure upon both their faces and her mother's heartfelt sigh of delight had remained in Fortune's memory her entire life. She wanted to know that same joy. Sighing, she closed her eyes.
She had spoken not a word, and yet she had given her consent to him to proceed further. His fingers practically tore the ribbons from the delicate fabric which he spread open to reveal Fortune's bosom. He almost whimpered with sheer gratification for she was so beautiful, absolutely perfect in form. Her breasts were small, and fully round with delightful little nipples that looked like tiny fruits atop a bowl of fresh cream. His hand was unable to help itself, and tenderly cupped one of those small breasts.
Fortune's eyes flew open, and she stared down at the hand. A small sound squeaked from her throat. Her eyes grew wide again.
Kieran smiled at her again. She was such a fierce creature, but she was also far more innocent than either of them had anticipated. Still, he could not help himself for she was simply too tempting. He laid his cheek against her breast, and heard the frantic beating of her heart beneath his ear. 'Forgive me, sweetheart,' he said low, 'but I cannot help myself. You are so lovely, Fortune. So damned lovely!'
She touched his dark head with her hand, gently ruffling his thick hair. There was something so natural about this even if she was a little frightened. Kieran loved her. He would not harm her. Passion, her mother had always warned her, was a powerful thing. She was only just beginning to understand at last what her mother had meant. 'I love you, Kieran Devers,' she told him.
He raised his head from her bosom. 'And I love you, lambkin,' he replied. There was something in his look she did not understand.
'What is it?' she asked him.
'I am not used to playing love games, Fortune,' he answered her honestly. 'I am burning with my desire for you.'
In reply he took her hand, and placed it upon his breeches. 'Aye,' he agreed, 'they can, sweetheart.'
Beneath her fingers she felt a hard length that simply radiated heat, and almost seemed to throb at her touch. She looked at him wonderingly. 'Your manhood is a fine thing,' Fortune told him. 'You will give me great pleasure one day.'
He laughed, the tension suddenly broken between them. It was such an outrageous remark from a virgin, yet he would have expected no less from Fortune. 'Aye,' he agreed with her. 'I will give you a great deal of pleasure, lambkin. Now, take your wicked little hand away from me before I burst with my lust for you.'
Giving him a teasing pat she said, 'I did not place my hand upon you of my own volition, sir. 'Twas you who wished to boast.' Then she moved her hand away from him. 'Next time I would see it unclothed as you viewed my breasts today. Turnabout is considered fair play.'
Laughing he took the hand that had touched him, and kissed it, both upon its back, and upon the palm. 'Must I beat you to make you behave, sweetheart? You are a most naughty lass, I fear.'
'You may beat me if it gives us pleasure,' she shot back.
