Virginia Henley by Insatiable Page A

call the gamekeeper and have you arrested.” The wild-looking devil was gawking at her clothes as if he had never seen a lady in a fine gown before. “How does a violent ruffian such as you know my name?” she demanded.
    Patrick’s black eyes narrowed as he assessed the delicate female who stood before him. He had known she would be exquisite, but she was far smaller than he had expected and vain beyond belief. She thought her ethereal beauty made her so special that the opposite sex should fawn upon her and grovel at her dainty feet. “I know far more about you than your name, wench.”
    “Wench?” she cried in outrage. “You will address me as Lady Catherine, you rude, repulsive brute.” Her glance traveled from the bulging muscles of his bare arms to his unshaven jaw, and she shuddered at his unkempt appearance.
    “I will address you as Hellcat, you spoiled little bitch!”
    “Spoiled?”
    “Spoiled, selfish and brainless to boot,” he added with relish.
    “ Brainless ?” she gasped, offended to her core.
    “Only an imbecile would wear a gossamer gown and ruff into the woods. You care naught for the man who provided the money for it, and even less for the poor drudge who must clean and repair it.”
    “You offensive swine! You are so ignorant you do not realize you owe me an abject apology for the attack of your wolfhound.”
    “Wolfhound? These happen to be Scottish deerhounds, the finest, most prized hunting dogs on earth, Hellcat !”
    “You’re a Scot,” she said with loathing. “That explains everything. I have been told what uncouth, uncivilized brutes Scots men are. You and your savage beasts had better begone before you are arrested for trespassing in these private woods.”
    Without another word, Patrick Hepburn picked her up and set her down upon her white horse, clenching his jaw in anger when he saw her recoil at his touch. “You are the one who is leaving. Get the hell home where you belong before I tan your arse.” He slapped her palfrey’s rump and watched with satisfaction as the dainty little horse kicked up its heels and fled.
    He stood staring after her long after she had gone, his dark brows drawn together in consternation. Then, all at once, he threw back his head and his laughter came rolling out in a torrent of pure male glee. He had finally met the female of his visions. Her name was Cat and that was the reason she’d had the saucy creature tattooed on her bottom. “Before I’m done with you, little Hellcat, I intend to tame you. The day will come when you won’t disdain my touch. You’ll purr when I stroke you,” he vowed.
    Robert Carey silently blessed Patrick Hepburn for his omniscience in leaving him alone with the divine widow. He would never have a better opportunity than this to begin an overture. A year ago in Carlisle, he had managed a few furtive fumbles in various alcoves, but the place had been overrun with northern troops who patrolled the Borders, and the degree of privacy necessary for complete intimacy had been nonexistent.
    “My sister Philadelphia must have a crystal ball. Until a week ago I had no notion that I would be coming south.”
    Liz laughed. “Philadelphia is a determined matchmaker, and she did promise I’d have my pick of potential husbands if I came to Court, but I assure you, Robert, she did not have you in mind.”
    “Then Providence has sent me so you don’t make a drastic mistake.” He closed the distance between them and slipped an arm around her. “Welcome to Richmond, Liz. Let me give you a tour of Hunsdon Hall.” With a firm hand at her back he guided her to the main staircase, determined to begin their exploration upstairs.
    Liz did not demur; rather, she aided and abetted Robert’s plan. “You are just the man I need. Would you help me with something?”
    As she entered her chamber and walked to the window, she glanced back over her shoulder, using the age-old gesture to lure a man to his destiny. She placed her hands