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Authors: My Cherished Enemy

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BOOK: Samantha James
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Elizabeth bobbed a curtsy and fled.

Kathryn stood her ground boldly. When they were alone, those devilishly slanted brows rose slightly. "Mayhap," he murmured with a strange half-smile, "you'd like to accuse me to my face of murdering your uncle."

"You think I will not?" Kathryn drew herself up proudly. Her tone was as fierce as the blaze in her eyes. "You swore by all that is holy that there would be no murder done at Ashbury. But you lied, O mighty lord. You murdered Richard and for that you will rot in hell."

His smile vanished. In its stead was a cold, merciless mask. It was with a great deal of restraint that Guy held fast to his temper. There were few who would have dared to call him a liar without fear of grievous punishment indeed. He would allow Kathryn this transgression.

But this one time only.

He rubbed his chin, the gesture curiously offhand considering the pulsating tension in the room. Those strange silver eyes fixed upon her. "Why," he queried softly, "are you so incensed? I would have thought that you, of all people, would be happy that Richard is gone."

Kathryn inhaled sharply. "I hated him, yes," she said evenly. "But you, milord, you are the one who is glad he is dead!"

She never dreamed that he would turn her words around on her. He merely raised his brows once more and inquired mildly, "And you, dear Kathryn? Can you not say the same?"

Kathryn said nothing. She had oft wished that Richard was gone from their lives—that he had never been born! But she had never wished him dead. And yet, may God take her soul, she could not feel true remorse that Richard was gone.

The earl's laughter grated. "You see? I am right. Furthermore, I do believe I underestimated you, Kathryn. When you told me last eve that you would do anything to be rid of your uncle, I never dreamed you'd be so quick about it. And he was killed with a knife... could it be you were frustrated at being foiled by me and decided your uncle should be the one to taste your handiwork instead?"

Kathryn was at first puzzled; then a flare of white-hot rage spiraled within her. Did the man think she was daft? Oh, she knew his ploy. He sought to transfer the blame from himself to her. And this was what men called honor?

It appeared she was the one who had underestimated him. Sir Hugh had said his lord was fair and just, but the earl was conniving and deceitful, like all men.

"You bastard," she said feelingly. "By God, I'll not listen to this." She spun around and stalked toward the door, determined that he would bait her no more.

But Guy was right behind her. She hadn't gone more than two steps before he grabbed her and pinned her shoulders to the wall.

"Let me pass," she cried bitterly. "I had naught to gain from murdering my uncle."

"Naught but revenge."

'The same could be said of you! All I wanted was my home back—but now Ashbury is yours!"

"And will remain mine." His smile was frigid.

She hated him for reminding her. "How can you be so cold?" she cried in despair. "Have you no shame? No heart? You're no better than Uncle," she accused. "A man who kills but for the sake of killing. Nay, I've no doubt you killed him. You had every reason to want him dead!"

That he did, Guy silently admitted. But he didn't deny her accusation. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to lower her confidence a bit.

Kathryn shoved at his shoulders, but he held her firm. Curiously, no smirk of satisfaction curled those thin lips. His countenance betrayed little evidence of his triumph. Yet his very lack of expression sent a prickle of unease trickling down her spine.

And then he laughed, a sound that sent chills rippling over her skin. "If that's what you believe, milady, perhaps you'd be wise to watch your back as well."

He let her go, making no attempt to veil his contempt. Stunned, Kathryn slumped against the wall and watched him leave, her face stripped of all color. Mother of Christ, she thought numbly. Was she mistaken or—or had he just threatened to kill her?

Guy was furious that someone had managed to get to Richard before he did. In his mind, whoever killed Richard had robbed him of his greatest wish, that Richard die at his hands.

Hugh was just as troubled as he watched his friend seek solace in drink, consuming far more wine than he was normally wont to do. The two of them remained in the hall long after the other knights had sought their pallets.

The night was damp and chill. The heat of the fire had cooled to the faint glow of embers. Hugh tossed another log onto the fire. Hooking his fingers into the tie at his waist, he glanced at his friend. Now, he decided, was the time to pose the question that had been on his mind all day.

"Guy, now that Richard is dead, what comes next, my friend?"

Bleary gray eyes lifted slowly. Hugh moved to sit at the bench across from Guy.

Guy's eyelids felt as if they'd been weighted with stone. He stared into the flickering flames of the fire. "I'm weary of fighting," he said slowly. "If you must know, Hugh, my only wish now is to see Peter again. He is my son and I—I hardly know the boy." A fleeting yearning passed over his granite features.

"So you will return to Sedgewick and settle back into your estates?"

"Aye," Guy replied. "That I will."

Hugh frowned. "And what of Ashbury?"

It was a moment before Guy spoke. "I'm not about to hand over the spoils of victory," he said slowly. "But I need someone here whom I can trust." He raised his head to gaze at his friend directly. "I've a boon to ask, Hugh. I understand why you refused Ramsay, but what if you were to remain here at Ashbury as castellan? I plan to leave some of my troops in place here, and it would please me greatly if you accept."

Hugh's mind veered straight to Elizabeth. He envisioned the golden glory of her hair, the shining depths of the bluest eyes in the kingdom. He loved her sweet, gentle nature, the air of purity and goodness that surrounded her. He had yet to hear her laughter, but in time, he promised himself, he would... and it would be like the tinkling of a waterfall, light and lilting and music to his soul.

Nay, he thought, 'twould be no hardship at all to stay here with Elizabeth. The trace of a smile curved his lips.

"How could I refuse such an offer?"

"Aha! I've seen that expression a time or two before! You're smitten, my friend." Guy chuckled. He propped his elbows on the rough wooden table and leaned forward. "So tell me, which do you favor? The raven or the dove?"

Hugh gave a hearty burst of laughter. "I much prefer the gentle cooing of a dove to the strident cry of a raven. Alas, I've a feeling 'twould take a falcon to be a match for the likes of the Lady Kathryn," he joked.

Guy said nothing.

"Indeed," Hugh went on, "a man like you, I'd say."

But Guy wasn't laughing. His smile was gone. He rose to stare broodingly out the window. Something in his features made Hugh eye him more closely.

"You've told me your plans for Ashbury," he murmured. "But what of the Lady Kathryn?"

Guy's jaw tightened. "If she thinks Ashbury is within her grasp, she's sadly mistaken," he said harshly. "She's selfish and stubborn—all she wants is Ashbury. And she's as cunning, calculating, and treacherous as her uncle."

Hugh cast a doubtful glance at his lord. "Oh, come now, Guy. She's but a woman—"

"A woman who tried her damnedest to see an end to me!" His voice grim, Guy told his friend how Kathryn had revealed her plans to marry Roderick and then wrest Ashbury from her uncle's grasp, how she'd then tried to barter her body with him—and how, at his flat refusal, she had sought to turn her knife on him!

"She also said she'd do anything to be rid of her uncle," Guy finished. "And she may have done exactly that!"

Hugh was startled. "You can't believe she murdered Richard," he protested. "Surely, if that had been her intent she'd have seen him dead long ago!"

"That's the only thing that stops me from being certain she did it," Guy admitted. "But I still don't trust her, Hugh. If I let her stay at Ashbury, she and her lover Roderick may well succeed in gaining Ashbury for themselves after all."

By now Hugh was growing alarmed. He recognized the unyielding intent reflected in Guy's features. He suspected that Guy did Kathryn a grave injustice in judging her so harshly. Yet he wasn't totally convinced Guy was wrong, either. But she was a woman, after all, and so he was inclined to leniency.

"You can't throw her in the dungeon, man. Despite everything, she's gently born—"

"Not gently bred, take my word for it!" Guy's laugh was brittle.

Hugh surveyed Guy uneasily. "So what will you do with her then?"

Guy's smile crept back, but it was a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. Hugh was suddenly very sure that smile did not bode well for the lady in question...

"When I leave," he said flatly, "the lady goes with me."

 

 

The keep was ahum with activity the following morning. Yesterday's fog had given way to blue skies and sunshine. From her chamber window Kathryn watched a half-dozen grooms scurrying to and from the stables. The earl's soldiers were everywhere.

Alice, one of the household maids, was hurrying down the corridor when Kathryn stepped from her chamber. "Alice," she said, "the bailey is filled with the earl's soldiers. Do you know what's happening?"

"Aye, milady." Alice bobbed a small curtsy. " 'Tis the new lord. He leaves Ashbury this very morn for his home in Somerset." Alice dropped another curtsy and hastened on.

Kathryn longed to clap her hands with glee. Her first thought on seeing all the activity was that the earl was leaving, but she hadn't dared to hope it was true.

Near the stairs she passed Helga. The girl said nothing, merely cast a rather smug sidelong glance at her mistress. Even that wasn't enough to dim Kathryn's soaring spirits. She smiled all the way down to the great hall.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder. Elizabeth was only a dozen steps behind her. "Good morning, sister!" Kathryn sang out. " 'Tis a grand day indeed, is it not?"

Her fine golden brows lifting, Elizabeth joined her on the step. " 'Tis a fine mood you're in, to be sure," she said, peering at her closely. 'Though I fail to understand why today is any different from yesterday."

Kathryn merely laughed. She snagged Elizabeth's arm and led her outside.

In the bailey, her eyes immediately fell upon the earl and Hugh. They both stood near the center well. The devil and his disciple, she decided scathingly.

It was Hugh who spotted them first. He raised a hand in greeting and began to approach, his features alight with pleasure.

"Lady Kathryn. Lady Elizabeth." He took both their hands in turn, bowing low over each.

The earl, slower to join them, displayed no such courtesy. He acknowledged their presence with an upward hike of one black brow.

"Ladies," he murmured. "You are just in time."

Kathryn swept him her best curtsy. "Good morning, my lord," she said sweetly. "As you can see, we've come to bid you a safe journey back to your home."

His gaze, cool and assessing, took in her agreeable demeanor. Aha, Guy thought. Now that she thinks she's well rid of me, she's prepared to be gracious.

It gave him immense pleasure to know that she was wrong.

Kathryn watched his slow-growing smile with mounting trepidation. It betrayed vast amusement, though for the life of her, she didn't understand what he found so entertaining.

A few of his troops had departed yesterday. From the corner of her eye, she noticed that another thirty or so appeared to be ready and waiting.

She stepped back. "Well," she said crisply, "the hour grows late. I'm sure you're anxious to take your leave. Why, Somerset must be several days' ride from here."

"Four," he corrected. "Which reminds me, Lady Kathryn, I think you should know that I'm leaving Sir Hugh in charge here, as well as a number of my knights."

Kathryn held fast to her temper. Meanwhile, the earl's disturbing smile widened further.

Beside her, Elizabeth grew increasingly uneasy.

His manner was wreaking havoc with Kathryn's nerves. Damn him anyway, why didn't he just leave! She was about to say something—anything!—to speed him on his way. But she'd barely opened her mouth when she spied her small palfrey being led from the stable.

BOOK: Samantha James
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