"Aye. I wonder how far they bolted before he managed to pull them up."
She shrugged. "With any luck, not too far. But I doubt he'll find us here. It's off the road, and the storm is pretty fierce."
Will got up and opened the door a tiny fraction. He slammed the portal again and secured the latch tightly as it rattled and almost flew ajar again.
"It's as black as night out there. I doubt our cottagers here will be coming back now."
"We must have missed a village along the way. They're probably visiting some friends."
"True. All Hallow's is a big festival in Ireland, for the Catholics in particular. They all make apple tarts and visit. That's probably where they went, and this was to be their supper."
"Well, until the storm lets up, this is our cottage. So I would suggest that we take off our shoes and have a rest," she said with a small yawn.
"Aye, I'm pretty sleepy after that fine meal."
He knelt and unlaced her boots. From there it seemed the most natural thing in the world to take off her damp stockings, and from there to play with the lace-edged openings of her drawers.
"Oh, this reminds me of the cave," she gasped.
"Me too."
"But do we dare…"
"I latched the door. It'll be all right. I need you, Elizabeth, so very much."
She nodded. "And we've waited so long."
"Too long."
"I love you."
"And I you, my darling wife."
He carefully removed her drawers, and then her green crushed velvet gown, and finally her chemise.
All she wore now were her bracelets, and he kissed the tender inner flesh of her wrists as she moved her hands over his shoulders to take off his frock coat, waistcoat, stock, cravat and shirt.
Their eyes never left each other as they surrendered to the desire held in check for so long. She touched his necklet lightly, and allowed her hand to descend to the waistband of his trousers.
With a bit of help she soon had him completely naked, and then she knelt before him on the bed almost worshipfully and grasped him lightly in her hands. His hard palms came up to caress her breasts.
In an instant they were licking, nuzzling and kissing each other frantically, long devouring kisses and langorous strokes, making time stand still for them both. He yanked the sheets and blankets down to the foot of the bed and laid her down upon the feather tester.
With a warm smile, Will hauled her legs over his shoulders and inhaled her perfume before burying his tongue inside her. One thumb rubbed her rosy little nub, and before she could even protest at his most remarkable kiss, she felt the familiar surge between her thighs and grasped his head.
His hard chin pressed into her as he laved her and teased with his fingers until he was certain she could not be any more ready for him. Her breath was coming in great shuddering gasps, and he slid up toward the pillows and kissed her hard.
Elizabeth received his tongue between her parted lips. Even as she did so the massive head of his manhood was received in turn by her tender quivering flesh. With one hoarse cry echoing in her own throat, he filled her.
She gasped and sobbed at the passion exploding inside her like a rainbow. She hung onto Will for dear life. The storm outside seemed to fill the hut as they writhed, panted and twisted, showering each other with love in a tempestuous coming together which had no beginning and no end.
"Will! Will!" she panted, as the pressure built even higher.
"Elizabeth, my love."
They soared and soared. Their souls took flight in a blaze of golden light, the molten core of their joining sparking with joy and new life.
Chapter Thirty-one
A mild wind whistled over the rustling grasses. The storm had passed at last, leaving everything sparkling and green. In the distance a curlew piped his morning tune.
Off in another field a cow lowed mournfully, waiting to be milked. A few sheep bleated and tinkled their bells, and at last the rooster bestirred himself to give his usual greeting to the dawn.
At the cock's crowing Will and Elizabeth sat bolt upright, clutching the sheets to their bosoms as they scrambled out of bed. Except there were no sheets, and no feather bed.
They stared at each other in horror, for they were both stark naked and lying on a huge triangular stone slab.
"The house?" she gasped.
"Our clothes?"
He swung down off the huge stone altar and found the garments spread out upon the grass, his and hers mingled, their shoes a short distance away. He touched one tentatively, and discovered that despite the dewy morning, they were dry. And despite the season, the weather was warm enough. Or was it the stone?