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. This was really kissing! Surprisingly, it seemed to come quite naturally to her even if she had no real prior experience before today. The pressure on her mouth increased, and her lips seemed to part almost of their own volition. She felt the tip of his tongue encircling her lips. It was a delicious sensation. Boldly she reached out with her own tongue to touch his. It was as if she had been struck by lightning!

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."

"Oh." Her voice was very small. She was wise enough to know precisely what he meant. She drew the halves of her chemise together herself, and laced the ribbons. Then her silk blouse. Finally she did up the buttons upon her doublet. "They can be dangerous games, Kieran, can't they?" she half-whispered.

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.

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. She had absolutely no idea what she was saying, he realized. Laughing again he struggled to his feet, and quickly caught the horses who had been grazing peacefully nearby. " 'Tis past time, sweetheart, that we rode home. Your parents will wonder where we have gotten to, and Maguire will set the dogs on me, I fear, if he thinks I have dishonored you in any manner." He helped her to mount, refraining from caressing her temptingly round bottom as she climbed into her saddle.

They rode home slowly even though the clouds were now beginning to scud quickly across the skies. A small rumble of thunder caused them to hurry the horses, and they reached the courtyard of Erne Rock just as the rain began to fall. There wasn't a stable lad in sight, and so they rode their mounts directly into the stables, dismounting there, and leading their beasts to their stalls. Efficiently they removed the animals' saddles and bridles. Fortune took up Thunder's own brushes, and began to curry him. He snuffled and danced gently as she worked. Kieran watched her, smiling. Then making himself useful he poured a measure of oats into the horses' individual troughs.

When Fortune had finished grooming her gelding she hung up the brushes and came out of his stall, closing the door carefully behind her. "I don't know where Michael has gotten to," she said. "Perhaps he went to the kitchens to be fed." She looked out of the open stable doors. The rain was coming down in sheets. "I suppose we must remain here until this shower ceases, or at least eases." She looked at him coyly. "What shall we do to while away the time?"

He chuckled wickedly. "You are really quite shameless, lass," he told her, backing her against the wall of the stable. His body not quite touching hers he reached around her, and cupped her buttocks in his big hands, fondling them teasingly. "What would you like to do, sweetheart?" he leered at her.

She was mesmerized by him. By the dark green eyes that devoured her face. By the strong fingers kneading her bottom. By the almost uncontrollable urge she was having to be made love to by him. She heard herself giving voice to her very thoughts. "I want you inside of me, Kieran Devers. I want you hard, and hot, and hungry for me."

"Jesu!" The word exploded from his mouth.

"I shock you because I am a virgin, and virgins shouldn't know such things, should they? But I have a mother who had a prince for a lover. I have a stepfather who is not shy about showing his passion for my mother. I have an elder sister who lived almost a year in a harem. And, Kieran Devers, I have eyes to see, and ears to hear. I know what happens between a man and a woman. I want that to happen between us. I am bold. Aye, I am, but I'm mad for you, and I want to be your wife," Fortune told him, her cheeks flushed with her daring.

He kissed her. He didn't know what else to do with her in the face of such frankness. She hadn't said anything to him that he hadn't been thinking himself. She wanted no more of him than he wanted of her. His hands moved to take her face between his two palms. His mouth moved over her soft skin hungrily, touching her lips, her nose, her eyes, her forehead, her cheekbones. She smelled of horse and heather. The nearness of her sent his senses reeling. He wanted the moment to go on forever. It didn't.

Rory Maguire's voice cut into their reverie. "Yer mam sent me to see where you were, m'lady Fortune."

Her eyes opened, and she smiled up at Kieran Devers as his hands released their hold upon her heart-shaped face. She looked past Maguire through the open stable door. "Ah, the rain has stopped," she noted. "We were waiting for it to cease, Rory."

"And well occupied you were, I could see, while you waited," he said dryly. Then his gaze fixed itself upon Kieran. "Her ladyship wants you to remain at Erne Rock for the interim, Kieran. Do you think you can behave yerself if you do? Frankly I think this is the best place for you-where we can keep our eye on you at all times."

"I'm not a maid of sixteen, Rory," Fortune said sharply.

"Nay, yer not, which means you should know better than to be making love in the open where every servant and gossip can see," he replied as pithily. "Next time, lass, try and be a bit more discreet. Word of your indiscretions with the handsome rogue will be distorted enough when they finally reach Lisnaskea. And you may believe me when I tell you that they'll be repeated in salacious detail to Lady Devers upon her return. She will not be happy to hear them, particularly as you will probably be wed to her stepson by then, having first spurned her lad. Her immediate thoughts, good Christian woman that she is, will be upon revenge."

"Mama should let us wed now," Fortune snapped. "Then there would be no cause for gossip."

"Yer mam is wise. Where's the harm in waiting if you truly love one another?" he demanded of her.

Fortune tossed her head in a gesture that was oddly familiar to him. "The harm may be in my belly if Mama makes me wait too long!" Then she dashed from the stables, heading for the castle steps.

Kieran Devers held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I will not seduce her," he promised the older man.

"Nay, but she'll do her best to seduce you," Maguire said with a shake of his head. "I had a younger sister, Aoife, who was just as headstrong as the lady Fortune. You had best be on yer guard, Kieran Devers. You could find yerself on yer back being ridden hard by that young vixen. A virgin she may be, but she's also an impudent wench."

The two men parted, Kieran Devers going into the castle. Rory, however, left the stables, and walked to the small gatehouse that Jasmine had given him years ago. He had not lived in it until she returned to Erne Rock, but it had long ago been furnished with family heirlooms dear to his heart; and Bride Duffy had seen that it was kept clean and aired should he ever need it again. Entering the house, and seeing his things, he was overcome with nostalgia. He climbled to a little attic beneath the pointed roof. There in a trunk was a rectangular box made of ashwood, its corners banded in silver. Removing the box he brought it down into the main room on the first floor of the gatehouse that served as his day room. A servant had already lit a peat fire against the damp.

Setting the box down on a table near the fireside chair, Rory poured himself a small dram of smoky whiskey. Then sitting down he sipped it appreciatively for several long moments before setting the tumbler aside, and reaching for the box. He had not seen, or opened this particular box in years. It contained individual miniatures of his family. Looking on them gave rise to a deep sadness, for Rory Maguire remembered that time long ago when his family had been in possession of Erne Rock, and Maguire's Ford. They had held their modest holding for several hundred years for their more powerful Maguire kin.