Gayle Callen (14 page)

J
ames paced before the hearth in the great hall, a tankard of ale in one fist. The girl couldn’t be Katherine. Her face was a grimy mess and her hair all tangles. And that peasant dress hung on her like a sack! No, he was being a fool. She was merely a serf looking for a few days of amusement and good food. And when he looked into her face and was sure it wasn’t Katherine, he’d give her all the amusement she wanted. Provided she was half decent. He thought he had glimpsed white teeth, a rarity among his villagers. She might have quite a kissable little mouth.

He looked up and saw her descending the stairs, wearing the gown of a much smaller woman. She came towards him, eyes downcast, damp golden ringlets of hair falling over her shoulders. She blushed as she stopped before him, but he could not keep his gaze from wandering down her body in frank admiration. The dress was too tight, hugging her bountiful breasts almost indecently. Her
waist was elegantly trim, her wrists and hands delicate, her exposed ankles tiny.

“My lord Bolton,” she murmured.

She finally raised her gaze, and James was struck mute. Those vivid, storm-blue eyes. The one thing memorable about her. He looked down her body again. But not the only thing memorable any more. Perhaps this marriage would prove interesting.

“My lady,” he said, and brought her hand to his lips.

Katherine was so relieved she could have melted into the floor. “You believe me,” she breathed, watching his dark head bent over her hand.

He looked up and grinned. Katherine tried to relive the excitement of their first meeting, how dashing he was, with his proud face and blue eyes. But five years had passed, five years of a young girl’s life as she waited daily for her future husband. The joy she thought she’d feel when she saw him was gone, leaving only nervousness.

On the other side of Lord Bolton, a group of servants were gathered, whispering and pointing. Katherine would have paid them scant attention, but then she was struck by a familiar pair of amethyst eyes, cold as the gems they reminded her of. He towered above the servants, a dark, impassive mountain of a man, his head smothered in that ridiculous hood and hat. She shivered with the remembered sensations of what his hands had done, of how she had touched him.
Please, Reynold
, she thought,
please keep quiet and let me help you in
my own way
. If she could keep James’s attention solely on her, perhaps he wouldn’t inquire too much about how she came to be here.

“Lady Katherine, you have blossomed into a true beauty,” James said.

She tried to give him a ladylike blush, but inwardly she rejected his meaningless words. She was no beauty, and he could have seen for himself if he’d have visited more than three times in five years.

Katherine sighed. Where did such rebellious thoughts come from? Even a week ago she would have been grateful for any crumb of his attention. But that was before she had been rescued by a man who gave everything he had for her and her cause. A man who cared.

“Lady Katherine?”

She was startled out of her reverie. “I’m sorry, my lord, my thoughts are wandering from the stress of all that’s happened to me in the last week.” She winced at her coy words.

“It must have been quite trying. I apologize that my soldiers and I didn’t believe your story. Perhaps you could tell me everything.”

He took her left elbow to guide her to a cushioned chair before the hearth. Katherine’s instinctive reaction was to draw her arm away and hold it close to her body, but she fought her old habits. She seated herself and wondered just where to begin. Would he believe her news of treason?

Katherine looked up and saw the servants dispersing, leaving Reynold no choice but to follow.
Don’t leave me
! her mind cried, but she knew she had to move on with her life, and he could not be a part of it. Her father had a contract with Bolton to marry her, and Reynold had to return to the monastery. But her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of never seeing him again.

“Lord Bolton,” she began.

“Call me James.”

His voice was low and pleasant, his manner courtly, his looks as handsome as she remembered. And yet—

She managed a smile. “James. If it wouldn’t be too much trouble, could I have a morsel to eat? I have had nothing since the previous night’s meal.”

His face was full of concern. “Of course, my dear! You should have said something before your bath.”

You’d have laughed in my face
, she thought wryly.

A hunch-shouldered serving woman wearing a stained apron brought Katherine a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread, and a spoon. She ate as sedately as possible, knowing James watched her. Was he still unconvinced?

When she was finished, she pushed the bowl aside and met his intense gaze. She tilted her head and studied him for a moment. He seemed suddenly more familiar to her. Her memories of his brief visits must be returning.

James sat back in his chair. “You mentioned something about being kidnapped. Was that merely to capture my attention?”

“No, my lo—James,” she said, folding her hands
in her lap to hide their trembling. “I was kidnapped because I have information about houses which are secretly turning against our king.”

James’s brows shot up. “That is a serious accusation.”

She smiled. “Which is why they had me kidnapped.”

“‘They’?”

“I’m not sure which nobleman paid the thieves.”

“Did these men bring you here?”

“After a two-day journey from my father’s home, I was held prisoner at Saint Anthony’s Priory.”

James spat ale back into his tankard. “A monastery? Surely you must be mistaken.”

“No, my lord.”

“James.”

“James,” she repeated, smiling. She felt as if her lips must be visibly twitching with nervousness.

“How long were you there?”

“A few hours only. I was rescued.” Her gaze slid from him to her lap, a mistake, she knew. It only made her look guilty.

“Your family discovered your whereabouts?”

“No, one of the monastery’s laborers. He saw me dragged in at night. He guided me this far.” Katherine took a deep breath, waiting for his reaction to her story.

James slowly set his tankard on the trestle table. “You were alone with a strange man for the entire journey?” he asked with no emotion.

Katherine raised her chin. “It was either that, or
remain a prisoner in a filthy, deserted undercroft, waiting for my jailers to return.” She knew many men would prefer that fate to their women being unchaperoned. She bitterly waited for his censure.

“This stranger wanted nothing from you in return for his help?”

“Nothing, James,” she answered honestly. Reynold had asked for nothing. She had given everything.

“Where is this hero now?”

She thought she heard sarcasm in his voice, but pretended not to. “When you brought me out of the dungeon, he was still there.”

James’s dark gaze sharpened. “You were even in the dungeon together?”

“Your men wanted to put him in the second pit, with the man who accused us of thievery. But I—my lord, I couldn’t be alone in that dark hole! I heard things moving down there. I—” She broke off, trying hard to recapture her initial fears of the place. But Reynold’s memory was now entwined with the darkness.

“I understand, my dear,” he said, awkwardly patting her hand.

He probably didn’t, but at least he was willing to accept her tale. James looked to his sergeant-at-arms, who came forward.

“Milord, the man’s gone.”

Katherine gasped on cue. “But I didn’t have a chance to thank him!”

“Gone?” James demanded. “How did he escape the pit?”

The blond man lowered his gaze. “After the girl—Lady Katherine—come up, no one pulled up the rope.”

“And the other man?”

“Still there, milord.”

“His accusations were obviously lies. Punish him as you see fit.”

“Yes, milord.”

Katherine’s relief was so great she could have wept. Reynold was free to leave without pursuit. She spoke quickly before James could remember him. “I have a favor to ask of you. I need your help to warn the king.”

He smiled. “I think His Grace can take care of himself, Katherine. It was very noble of you to want to help.”

“But you don’t understand! These men were of the nobility. Richard’s own councilors. He will not be expecting their betrayal.”

James sipped his ale, looking at her over the rim. “Who are these men?”

“Lord Stanley, along with the Duke of Suffolk, and the Earl of Northumberland.”

“God’s teeth,” he murmured, his face sobering as he stared at her.

“You must see why I need your help. Can you send a message to the king?”

“I’ll not only send a message, but also a detachment of soldiers as escort.”

“Thank you, James,” Katherine whispered, sinking back in her chair. She felt drained, exhausted,
and very relieved that the burden of the secret was off her shoulders.

“You look tired,” he said. “Would you care to rest for a few hours?”

“Yes, thank you.” She stood up and he followed.

“I’m sure my dungeon is hardly a comfortable place for a lady. Forgive our disbelief.”

Katherine nodded quickly, unable to meet his eyes. His dungeon was not a subject she wanted to converse about.

“Would you like me to send a maid to keep you company? You’ll feel safer with her sleeping at your door.”

“No, James, but thank you.”

He caught up her hand for another kiss to her fingers. She darted a glance to the stairs, impatient to be alone, to sleep and not have to think any more.

James watched the sway of Katherine’s hips as she ascended the stone staircase. He didn’t think he was going to be a very patient bridegroom. He had dreaded the wedding for so long, and now his reversal of feelings was rather overwhelming. Though no rare beauty, Katherine was a stunning young woman, and he regretted not marrying her years before. He called for his secretary to write a missive to Lord Durham. The old man deserved to know that his daughter was safe, and ready to be wed. James’s plans couldn’t have worked out better. Except for the mystery of her rescuer…

Katherine slept the afternoon away, came downstairs for a quick evening meal, and bid James an early goodnight. He seemed disappointed, and she knew she should be thrilled that he wanted to spend time with her, but all she could feel was unease. It was hard to look him in the eyes. Did her guilt show?

Now that her duty to King Richard had been lifted from her thoughts, all she could think about was Reynold. She had lain with a man not her husband—not merely one uncontrolled time, but twice! How could she possibly enter a marriage based on a lie? James thought he was marrying a virginal, sheltered girl. Instead she was a wanton who could not control her own body. What kind of woman did that make her?

Just as Katherine reached her room, she heard James calling her from the stairway. She turned and saw him enter the corridor. Every step he took made Katherine’s heart pound faster. What could he want, beyond what had already been said?

He stopped before her and took both her hands in his. “I was not a very proper bridegroom tonight.”

She smiled nervously. “James, you are very kind to me.”

“But kind is not all I want to be.”

He leaned towards her and pressed his lips to her cheek. Katherine held her breath, controlling her instinctive urge to push him away.

“Do not be frightened,” he murmured. “I won’t hurt you.”

Katherine was trapped. She could not very well refuse her betrothed a kiss goodnight. But his arms around her produced none of the sensations she experienced with Reynold. When his mouth touched hers, she panicked and turned her face away.

“James, please!” she cried, pushing at his chest. “We are not yet married.”

He let her go and grinned. “Forgive me, my dear. I forget you are yet an innocent.”

He leaned forward once more and she allowed a kiss to her cheek.

“Goodnight, Katherine.”

Giving him a forced smile, she opened her door and closed it quickly behind her. With a sigh of relief, she slumped against it, eyes closed. That was much too close. She could not continue to hold him off without raising his suspicions. She shouldn’t be resisting him at all! Hadn’t she dreamed of his kisses at night? But she couldn’t remember her girlhood dreams anymore; there was only Reynold.

She opened her eyes and stood still in surprise. Someone had been here while she was gone, leaving bed curtains to keep out the chill, and rugs to warm her feet. Across the bed, a new gown lay, one obviously not borrowed from a servant. A single cushioned chair had been placed near the fire. Katherine sank down on it and covered her eyes.

She was so confused. At supper she had kept her eyes downcast, fearing that she would see Reynold and give his identity away. Yet in one mo
ment of bravery, she had looked and never saw his face. Was he already gone?

She knew his calling was important to him, but wasn’t she? After what they’d shared, he couldn’t just escape with no word. She was suddenly flooded with the image of Reynold kneeling in agony on the floor of the hut. Perhaps she had finally hurt him too much.

Would he come tonight, when the others had gone to sleep? Katherine stole a glance at the bed, then angrily berated herself. No, she would not give in to the urges of her body. She was contracted to marry a man, and she had already dishonored herself.

She paced the room as hour after hour slipped by. The noises of the castle quieted then disappeared. Outside her shuttered window, the moon began its rise. Reynold did not come.

Finally Katherine undressed to her linen smock and got into bed. She left the bed curtains open, drew the coverlet up to her chin, and waited.

Katherine jerked awake and winced as her neck protested the abrupt movement. She rubbed it for a moment, then sighed as she realized it was dawn, and Reynold had not come.

He’s gone
, she thought, as her eyes stung and her throat seemed to choke her. She wanted to protect him; she should be happy that he had escaped. Instead she felt more alone than she ever had in her life.