Gayle Callen (21 page)

R
eynold stood frozen, wondering how he would fight with Katherine on his shoulder. If he set her down, would she flee to escape detection?

“Yonder ghost!” cried the cracked voice of a man barely grown. “I swear by all that’s holy I do not fear you!”

Reynold clutched Katherine’s legs to his chest and hesitated. Suddenly, Margery darted out in front of him.

“Kind soldier,” she called, moving through the shadows like a white-clad spirit.

Reynold heard a strangled gasp.

“Nay, I live,” she insisted. “Do you not recognize me? I am Margery, sister to your lord.”

“Milady—”

“Have you seen it, kind soldier? My puppy has flown from me and I’m quite distressed. Please, help me find the poor lost thing.”

“But milady—”

Their voices dwindled away and Reynold chuckled as he trudged down the sloping ground while balancing Katherine. When he found the rusted door, partially covered in ivy, he shook his head in disgust at his brother’s stupidity.

“This will take but a moment, Katherine,” he whispered, trying each big iron key on the ring.

Her grumble was faint, and her body hung limply.

When he finally found the key, it took most of his strength to turn it. Once outside on the narrow bank of the cliff, he tossed the keys back inside and closed the door as quietly as possible. He immediately swung Katherine down and caught her as she collapsed.

“Katherine?” He patted her cheek and breathed a sigh of relief as her lashes fluttered. She took in a lungful of air and coughed. “I think compromising you would be better than robbing you of breath.”

She shook her head. “I’d rather die,” she choked out.

Reynold arched a brow. “I’m flattered.”

“It’s still not too late. You can take me back, Reynold, and I will tell no one.”

Shaking his head, he put a supporting arm around her waist. “You will thank me for this, Katherine.”

With an inelegant snort, she pushed away from him and stumbled over her skirt. Reynold caught her arm.

“’Tis a long slide to the river. Hug the castle wall as we walk.”

Katherine stared down into the valley. When she and Reynold had been trapped in the dungeon, the scenery was eerily beautiful and tempting. Now it only seemed dangerous. She followed Reynold, fool that he was. She bit her lip and studied the uneven ground. Perhaps he would lead her close to the gatehouse where she could call for help. Yet she was the true fool. How could she betray Reynold?

He didn’t give her a choice. When they left the dangerous edge of the sloping river, he immediately pulled her into the darkness of the forest. The trees seemed a towering menace by night, no longer a playful respite from the sun.

“We will travel by forest path as much as possible,” Reynold whispered over his shoulder. “The roads are more treacherous than ever as men prepare for war.”

“Is it truly so near?” she asked, forgetting her anger for a moment.

“Katherine, we are close to Nottingham Castle and the king. Scurriers say Henry Tudor has feinted towards London, but he knows the king stands between him and the city. They will meet soon, and it will not be far from here. We must hurry.”

As she tripped over a tree root and clutched Reynold’s arm more tightly, Katherine felt a reluctant sense of purpose. The king deserved to know who he could count on. She did not care for Rey
nold’s methods, and she wouldn’t soon forgive him for what her parents would put her through.

They found a woodcutter’s path soon enough and the footing proved easier. Yet the darkness of night pressed in on her, and the trees seemed to lean over.

“Should we not conserve our strength and sleep?” Katherine asked.

“You wish your betrothed to find us so easily?” Reynold kept his back turned and his voice cold.

“Perhaps I do. Then he would know how much this means to me.”

Reynold’s grip on her hand tightened.

“Where are your robes, Brother Reynold?” The words escaped her lips unthinkingly, but she did not regret them. The anger seemed to build inside her moment by moment, choking her with bitterness. “If you had worn them, perhaps your brother would not wonder at your motives when next we meet.”

Reynold suddenly whirled toward her and brought their bodies together in a crushing embrace. The air escaped her lips in a rush, and her breasts rose and fell against the hard wall of his chest. She moaned softly at the vivid memories etched into her mind and skin.

His mouth but an inch from hers, he whispered, “If I wore those robes, my sweet, our kiss would seem too sinful.”

Before she could frame a response, his mouth took hers in sweet possession, demanding and arousing. Her body responded without her mind’s
permission, her arms about his neck, one thigh sliding between his. She had missed his touch, missed the way his body could arouse such passion in hers. The knowledge that she could easily allow him to take her here on the forest floor finally brought her senses back. Pushing at his shoulders, she turned her head away.

“No, Reynold, please!”

He pressed his mouth to her cheek, her hair. “I cannot go back to the monastery, my sweet. That life is not for me.”

“Your vows!” she cried, aghast.

“You knew I was a novice, Katherine. My final vows had not been spoken. And now I see the wait had a purpose.”

“But Reynold, your family—what will they say?” A sick flash of guilt twisted her insides. Yet hadn’t she seen this coming, hadn’t she herself helped Reynold deal with Edmund’s death?

Reynold captured Katherine’s face in his hands, and looked into her wild, frightened eyes. He knew she was not ready to face what he meant to do. She still clung to her denials.

“I will solve everything,” he said.

“But James will—”

Reynold covered her mouth with his hand. “Do not speak his name, my sweet. My brother will learn he cannot have everything he wants.”

She shook away his hand. “Where will you go, Reynold? You will be so alone if your family disowns you.”

“Not alone, Katherine,” was all he would tell
her. He tried to kiss her again, but she resisted.

“You are being foolish to court such disaster,” she said. “Your brother might insist your lands remain part of Margery’s dowry.”

“I will talk to James later. For now all that matters is warning the king.”

James awoke at dawn to the blast of horns and the clatter of men in armor. He pulled on his clothes and met up with Margery in the hall, her hair wild about her shoulders and back, her face white.

“James, what is it?”

“If Katherine doesn’t awaken, do not disturb her. This might be nothing—or it could be a summons from the king.”

“It is about to begin then?”

He nodded and swept on by her. As he descended the stairs, the hall opened up before him. Katherine’s father, Lord Durham, awaited him before the hearth. James recognized the dust-covered man beside him. Sir Arthur Watley, normally a cheerful man, presented only a grim countenance.

“My lord Bolton, His Majesty requests the presence of you and your retainers. Henry Tudor will soon be upon us.”

The hall had gone quiet as servants and soldiers alike stood still. James sighed and looked to Katherine’s father. “My lord, you, too, are summoned?”

Theobald Berkeley’s joviality had disappeared. Though older, the knight who had fought so long
ago with King Edward IV had obviously not forgotten his skills.

“James, I have sent out messages to my knights to join us at Leicester. The rest of my men can be ready within the hour.” His forced smile looked more like a grimace. “My daughter will not be pleased that the wedding must be delayed. She has waited long for this day.”

James shrugged. “You have raised her well. She will understand. After I have called my knights in from their outlying manors, we can be mounted by noon. If you prefer not to wait…”

“I can spare a few hours,” the earl said. “Perhaps you wish the marriage to take place this morning?”

James thought about leaving a bride without a wedding night—then remembered he would be taking Katherine’s money to battle, where new weapons were sorely needed. He felt a little sick at the necessity of her dowry. “Perhaps your idea is best for Katherine. Let me speak to my sergeant-at-arms, then I’ll go to her.”

Durham squinted as he gazed up the staircase. “Can’t imagine what’s keeping the girl, with all this commotion. She’s usually an early riser.”

“Much has happened to Katherine in the last week. She needs her rest.”

After speaking to Galway, James turned to see Margery descending the stairs in a hurried manner quite unlike her usual cool grace. When she looked up and saw them all watching her, she dropped
her skirts and smoothed them, crossing the rush-covered floor sedately.

“James, will you be leaving soon?”

“Lord Durham and I depart with the sun’s zenith.”

As James watched her pale face, something deep inside him stirred with uneasiness. “Break your fast, Margery. We might be needing your help. I will awaken Katherine and tell the poor girl we must leave.”

Margery seemed to hesitate, but she merely bowed her head in submission. That in itself alerted James that something was wrong. He took the stairs two at a time and followed the corridor to Katherine’s room. When she didn’t answer his knock, he opened the door softly.

“Katherine, my dear? I’m sorry to awaken you but—” He broke off and squinted into the gloom. “Katherine?”

She was gone. He found her nightdress on the floor and her bed made up. Had she attended early mass with her mother? James pulled the door shut behind him, listening with satisfaction as the slam echoed through the bare corridor.

“Margery!” he bellowed.

She appeared at the top of the stairs before he could take a step. “Have you helped Katherine in some scheme? Don’t you two foolish females realize we are at war?”

Margery’s mouth opened, but she didn’t seem to know which question to answer first.

“Is Katherine nervous about the wedding?
Surely she realizes I will do whatever…” His voice trailed off as Margery’s face flushed red.

James swore. “Where is my brother when he is needed? Surely the horn should have dragged him from his knees.”

“He could not have heard the horn,” Margery said in a soft voice, her fingers absently toying with her girdle. “He has gone to do his part for King Richard.”

“God’s teeth! Margery, what the devil are you talking about? Richard has enough priests.”

“He did not go as a monk, but as a loyal subject. You would not believe Katherine’s message was important, but they do.”

“They—” James closed his eyes in sudden understanding. “Katherine went, too.”

“She did not go willingly, James,” Margery said, reaching out to touch his hand.

He pulled away.

“Reynold knew she was related by blood to the king, who would be more likely to believe her than a stranger. I swear Katherine did not want to upset you or her parents.”

“Reynold abducted my betrothed?” James said, still in disbelief.

“He merely—borrowed her. They’ll be back as soon as their mission is complete. Reynold was also worried because he saw the kidnapper about. He said for you to alert the watch.”

James eyed her coldly. “You knew they were leaving and did not tell me.”

“Reynold is my brother, too! I could not betray his confidences.”

“So you betrayed mine instead.”

“James—”

“You must not speak of this to the earl.”

Margery gasped. “You want us to lie to Katherine’s father? Why must we?”

“Suffice it to say, Katherine does not want him to know the true reason she was originally kidnapped.”

“But—”

“Not now, Margery. We are protecting Lord Durham. Leave the matter to me.”

When James broke the news to Katherine’s parents, stunned silence greeted him. Then Lord Durham surged to his feet.

“Have my horse saddled.”

The countess came to stand beside her husband. “What can your brother be thinking, to take Katherine on the day of her wedding? And he, so recently confined to a monastery. Perhaps his mind is not right.”

James gritted his teeth. “I will deal with my brother. I think he felt he was protecting Katherine from her kidnapper. When I discover why he did not trust me—” He broke off. “They cannot be far. I will go after them. It is unsafe for Katherine to be unprotected in so dangerous a time.”

“Reynold is protecting her,” Margery said.

“Enough! Lord Durham, my men and I will meet you in the king’s camp. It should not take
long for me to find my errant brother. Galway can track a squirrel through the forest.”

The earl clenched his fists. “I will demand an explanation from him. Why should he take her from a fortified castle—”

“My brother does not think as you and I, my lord. But he is an honorable man.” James had to grind out the words to placate Durham, but his own suspicions clouded his mind. “I have yet to have a full explanation for how this kidnapper escaped my men. They had best find him now, or they shall feel my wrath.”

And they were not the only ones who would feel his anger.

Reynold and Katherine reached Nottingham Castle at dusk, only to discover from travelers that the king had departed for Leicester. Out on the road once more, Katherine looked back over her shoulder at the dark castle perched high up on its rock. The wind whistled about them, blowing away the last of the day’s warmth. She shivered.

“Can we not shelter at the castle?”

“That has been our pattern, so we will change it. We do not want your kidnapper to find us too easily.”

“Perhaps James caught him.”

“We cannot assume so. The kidnapper seems to take our capture as his personal mission. Come, Katherine, the woods are warm tonight.” His voice deepened as he spoke, ending on a husky note.

He took her arm and drew her forward, though
Katherine followed most reluctantly. She longed for the castle with its protection and crowds. But Reynold led her away, into the dark of the forest, and they would sleep alone.