Page 81 of A Woman of Passion

“Ellen, my children are never a bother to me. Give her to me; I'll soon rock her to sleep.” Bess took her daughter in her arms and walked toward the sanctuary of the rose garden, which was separated by a walk of tall yews. When the baby felt herself pressed against her mother's ample bosom, she tried to suck. Bess laughed. “Oh, no, you don't; I weaned you weeks ago.” She sat down on the edge of the stone fountain, and within a minute the child was asleep. Bess handed her back to her nurse, who gratefully carried her off. Bess closed her eyes with contentment, breathing in the heavenly fragrance of the roses.

George Talbot watched her from the yews. He overheard what she said to the nurse and was astounded that she breast-fed her babies. The thought was unbelievably arousing to him, but then everything about Bess Hardwick aroused him—it always had. Christ, he'd pay a thousand pounds for a glimpse of her suckling a child. It was ridiculous that sparks of animosity should fly between them every time they spoke. Talbot was determined to make a fresh start. He would try to behave himself and win her over. She was the most enticing challenge he'd ever encountered. He closed the distance between them before she opened her eyes.

“Lady Cavendish.”

Bess lifted her lashes and looked up at the extremely tall dark man gazing down at her. “Lord Talbot?” She said his name with a question that implied, What do you want?

“I would like us to be friends. We have known each other for a very long time, but we have not been friends.”

Her brows arched. “And whose fault is that?” she demanded.

“I know the fault is mine, Lady Cavendish, and I wish to repair it.” He hoped he sounded sincere.

Bess looked up at him. No wonder he is arrogant. Not only is he heir to a princedom, he's the handsomest man I've ever seen—in a dark, devilish way, of course. Women must throw themselves at him.

“I was such a callow youth, Lady Cavendish. Your beauty stunned me. I was totally infatuated. I treated you outrageously to make you notice me, but all I succeeded in doing was angering you.”

Bess smiled. “I have a quick temper.”

“I would like to think I have matured since those early days.”

Bess's eyes filled with amusement. “So would I.”

“Am I forgiven?” Christ, did I really call her Mistress Tits?

He hadn't actually apologized, just excused himself, but Bess knew he was not the kind of man who would ever say he was sorry. She decided to be gracious. She stood up, gave him a radiant smile, and reached out her hand.

Talbot didn't take it. Instead, he took the rose that nestled between her breasts.

The smile left her face, and her dark eyes flashed their fury. “The day we met I thought you an arrogant swine. You have not changed one iota—you are still an arrogant swine!”

“Vixen!” he taunted.

“Black devil!” Bess wanted to fly at him and scratch his eyes out. It was difficult to control the emotion he aroused in her, but she spun on her heel and ran from the rose garden before they had an open brawl.

Bess had so many other guests that it didn't take long for her anger to cool. She laughed at her reaction to George Talbot. He'd done nothing, really, except act like a typical male. She should have been flattered.

When the last carriage had left, the children were all put to bed, and the house restored to order, Bess and William ascended the grand staircase hand in hand. “It was a great triumph for you today, Bess. I'm so proud of you.”

She leaned her head against him in an affectionate gesture. “I owe it all to you, William.” When they reached the top of the staircase, Bess turned to survey her magnificent home. “It was absolutely perfect. Today I achieved everything I ever set out to do.” She looked into his eyes. “You made all my dreams come true.”

Cavendish knew she was completely happy tonight. He could not bring himself to destroy one small part of that happiness. Tomorrow would be soon enough. He waited until she was in bed before he gave her the present. She gasped with delight. “It's so precious. … I'll treasure it always.”

William held her in his arms all night, savoring her love, dreading that on the morrow she would hate him.

Early the next morning, when William went into his office, he found all Bess's account books on his desk awaiting his signature of approval. Sick at heart he pushed them away, wishing his treasury accounts were as honest. He massaged the tightness in his chest and called Bess into his office. He made her sit down, then propped himself against the carved desk.

“Bess, I'm in trouble. The queen has ordered an audit of her treasury.”

“That bitch! She is doing this because she hates me! How much time do you have?”

“It is over and done. They have been at it for months, scrutinizing every piece of paper my office has collected in the last thirteen years.”

“You've been keeping this to yourself instead of sharing it with me,” she accused. “No wonder you are so worn out!” She jumped to her feet, but with gentle hands he pressed her back down.

“There was no need to alarm you.”

“But now there is?” The blood drained from her face.

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