dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon (3 page)

BOOK: dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon
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Cathryn nodded. She knew that Felix, her father’s trusted bailiff and Hannah’s grandfather, would form part of the retinue. Older than her father by a few years, Felix had served as a trusted employee for as long as Cathryn could remember. He was a man of few words, but he had always had a friendly regard for Cathryn. She knew she would be quite safe traveling the countryside with him, and although most suppliers were familiar with her by now, his presence would also ensure they would treat her with more respect than if she were alone.

“Very well, Father.” Cathryn nodded. “I will start making the necessary arrangements, and trust that your negotiations with the king will be successful.”

“I believe we can come to a suitable arrangement with His Royal Highness,” said Father with a slight smile. He looked at her more closely for a moment before continuing. “Is everything all right between you and Geoffrey? You seemed a little out of sorts when I interrupted you this afternoon.”

“It was nothing, Father,” Cathryn replied with a slight grimace. “It appears we do not share the same sense of humor, nothing more.”

“Well, a good marriage is not dependent on a shared sense of humor,” said Father, returning his attention to his papers.

 

 

Chapter 4 

It was a lovely day, full with the promise of spring. New leaf buds, their color still a delicate green, were exploding on the trees, while blossoms shyly paraded their soft hues for all the world to see. Cathryn, standing just inside the open front door, took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of early morning. The air was still fresh and untouched by the heat of day which would later ripen the smells into a more pungent mélange. She patted her waist, assuring herself that the purse which hung from her belt was in place, before setting out through the door. As she walked she reviewed the list of items she sought, numbering them to aid her memory. It was the midweek market day, which brought with it merchants and craftsmen who traveled from farther afield with their wares. The purchase of kitchen fare was left to the household servants, but Cathryn had a few personal items she wanted to purchase: a hairpin to replace the one that had fallen into the fire grate earlier in the week, a new quill with a delicately curling feather, and ribbons to replace those that had been ruined in the mud a few weeks before. Thought of the ruined ribbons immediately brought to mind the man who had rescued her from the mire, but she resolutely pushed the thought away, turning back to her list. She needed more sheets of paper, and leather thongs to bind them with, and she had heard that one of the merchants had obtained bangles crafted with intricately designed silver filigree, from the Emerald Isle.

It was not far to the town market, and a few minutes later saw Cathryn standing before a table that held a colorful array of ribbons.

“Need more ribbons already, Mistress?” asked the young woman behind the table with a smile. Cathryn was a familiar face to the townspeople, and as she always brought with her a cheerful greeting, and never begrudged a merchant a fair price, she was treated with more affection than some of the other well-born ladies of the town. Cathryn returned the smile as she fingered the bright hanks, mulling over the selection of reds, oranges and yellows.

“I’m afraid the last package was ruined in the mud,” she said. She leaned over the table, examining the bright hues.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” the woman responded. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more green ribbon, but I do have some lovely blue which I will show you.” She scratched around under the table, pulling out a hank of sapphire-blue ribbon.

“I’ll take it,” Cathryn said immediately. 

It took her a few more minutes to complete her selection and pay the young woman before she moved off in the direction of a merchant displaying a selection of quills. She glanced around as she walked, taking note of the crowds of shoppers, when a tall form caught her attention. He was turned away from her, but the red hair, gleaming in the morning sun, gave him away. Cathryn felt the breath catch in her throat as she looked at the man who had haunted her memories, before quickly turning in the opposite direction in a panic. The man roused within her a yearning she had never before experienced, a desire that threatened all she held to be true. She had covered quite a few hurried yards before she forced her pace to slow down, chagrined at her instinctive response to run. Adopting a far more sedate pace, she crossed the last few yards to where the jewelry merchant displayed his wares. Silver glittered in the sunlight, and she stroked the smooth surfaces, her finger tracing the delicate swirls and curves, before choosing one with a pattern of trailing flowers and slipping it onto her wrist. Holding out her hand, she twisted it this way and that, watching the metal sparkle against her fair skin.

“This one, I think.”

A voice, soft and masculine, startled her, as a hand reached around her and lifted another bangle from the dark-colored cloth of the table. Cathryn knew without turning who it was that stood behind her. The voice had pursued her through many dreams, and as his warm breath brushed against her hair, she felt her heart speed up and the blood pound in her ears. For a brief moment she closed her eyes, silently pulling in extra breath, before slowly turning around to face him.

“Sir, er, Drummond, was it?” she said. She glanced up into his face, before quickly looking away again.

“Drake,” he corrected. He looked at her with eyes narrowed. “But you knew that. I saw you rushing across the market in an effort to avoid me. Now why would you do that, I wonder?”

Cathryn raised startled eyes to meet his. “That is a very arrogant assumption. Why would I want to avoid you?”

“Why indeed? Is it because your thoughts have bent towards me more than you care to admit?” He held her gaze for a moment, then glanced down at the bangle in his hand. Intricate lines of silver twisted and curled around each other, in a never-ending pattern that looped around the bangle between bands of silver. Pulling her hand into his, he gently tugged the bangle she still wore off her wrist and replaced it with the one he had chosen.

“There,” he said, “that suits you perfectly. Small and dainty, but with a strong and determined design.” He watched her as she frowned down at the piece of jewelry adorning her wrist, her expression wavering between approval and chagrin. Finally, digging into her purse, she pulled out a few coins and handed them to the merchant before turning away.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

“Thank you?”

“Yes. For finding you the perfect piece to complement your graceful wrist.”

“You are insufferable,” she said, annoyed. Annoyed at him, for making her indebted to him. And even more at herself, for being affected by him.

“How is your betrothed?” he said. “Shouldn’t he be here, attending to you, showing his affection and showering you with gifts?”

She took a deep breath before replying. “My marriage to Geoffrey Beaumont has nothing to do with affection,” she said, lifting her chin as she responded. “It is a business partnership, nothing more. Not,” she added, “that it concerns you in the least.”

“A business partnership,” he mused. “Do you have no feelings for the man?”

“Of course I do,” she retorted. “I admire his business sense and respect his intelligence.”

“Ah. A fine foundation for a successful marriage. Is there no-one that you love, then? One with whom you share mutual affection?”

“No. I have seen love make fools of my friends, and I choose not to go down that road. Nor have I ever been tempted to.”

She carried on for a few more steps, glancing at Favian when he didn’t reply. His face wore an expression of deep consideration, but it cleared as he returned her look.

“Good day, Mistress,” he said with a small bow. “I will leave you to your perusals.”

Cathryn nodded, staring after him as he turned away and strode through the crowd. Clearly her words had made him leave. What was not clear, however, was why she felt so bereft. She was still pondering this when he glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze catching hers for a moment before he turned back and disappeared between the masses.

 

Chapter 5 

Hannah bustled around the room as Cathryn lay in a tub of warm water, the scent of roses rising from the crushed petals that had been strewn into the bath.

“I’m thinking the green gown, Mistress,” said the young woman, “trimmed in silver.”

“Perfect,” Cathryn said, lathering soap over her arms as she answered. She was looking forward to an evening spent at the Bradshaws’. Thomas Bradshaw was a fellow merchant and a great friend of her father’s, while his wife, Elise, was a kind, motherly woman. Twice each year the couple held a great feast, where they offered entertainment in the form of traveling troubadours and musicians. This year, Father had informed her, Elise had even managed to find a bard to end the evening’s entertainment with a tale or two.

A pail of steaming water stood next to the tub, and hefting it Hannah poured the water over Cathryn in a gentle stream. She held out a large linen sheet as Cathryn rose out of the water. Fetching a small bottle of colored glass from the chest of drawers, she rubbed attar of rose over Cathryn’s smooth skin, rubbing in vigorous circles over her shoulders and neck.

“Will a certain gentleman be there this evening?” Hannah asked.

“Geoffrey? I don’t believe so,” Cathryn said. “He does not enjoy this kind of entertainment.” She smiled at Hannah's look of indignation.

“That is not the gentleman I was referring to.”

“Then I cannot imagine to whom you could be referring,” said Cathryn. “Thinking of any man other than my betrothed would be most improper.”

“Very well,” Hannah said. “I will not press you any further.”

An hour had sped past by the time Cathryn emerged from her bedchamber, a silk cloak thrown over her dark green gown. The hair around her face had been braided with silver ribbons, while the rest hung loose over her shoulders and flowed down her back. On her wrist she wore the filigree bangle that Favian had selected for her, the pattern curving in an intricate design that caught the light. Silver slippers covered her feet, peeking from beneath her gown as she quickly made her way down the stairs to where her father was awaiting her.

“Ready?” said Father, holding out his arm when she nodded her agreement.

The Bradshaw family lived only a few streets away, and Cathryn and Father were soon ambling down the street in that direction, forgoing the carriage and instead traveling on foot. It was a lovely evening, the waxing moon shining brightly in the night sky. When they arrived at the house they were quickly ushered into the hall. The room was long, running the length of the house, with a high, beamed ceiling that soared above them. Rush torches were interspersed at regular intervals along the walls, creating light that danced and shimmied in the moving air. A huge fire roared in a hearth set in one of the long walls, while at the far end of the hall was a raised dais on which stood a covered table that ran the width of the room. There was a screen behind the table, half hiding the musicians seated behind it, some of whom strummed on lutes and citoles, while others accompanied them on timbrels. More tables flanked with benches ran along the length of the hall, stopping a few yards short of the dais.

As Cathryn and her father entered the room, they were greeted by Thomas and Elise Bradshaw. Within moments, Thomas and Father were deep in conversation about the upcoming delegation to the king, while Cathryn and Elise shared an amused smile.

“Come in, Cathryn,” said Elise, waving her into the room. “Most of the younger people are over there,” she said, gesturing to a crowd of people at the far end of the hall. “Why don’t you go and join them.”

“Thank you,” Cathryn said with a smile. The group of people were laughing, and as Cathryn approached she saw that most of the crowd were familiar to her. A tall, willowy woman, strikingly dressed in a crimson gown, glanced over her shoulder; observing Cathryn’s approach, she walked over and hooked her arm through her friend’s.

“Peggy,” Cathryn said by way of a greeting.

“You have to come meet this most interesting man,” Peggy said softly, pulling Cathryn into the circle. “He has just returned from travels abroad, and has been entertaining us with some stories.” The bustle of Cathryn’s arrival in the group attracted the attention of the man seated in the center, and he paused to glance up at the newcomer. As Cathryn turned to look at the stranger, dark blue eyes met hers, sparkling with amusement; she felt her eyes widen in surprise.

“Cathryn, this is Favian Drake,” announced Peggy. “Master Drake,” she said, turning to Favian, “this is Mistress Cathryn Forrester.” Cathryn stared at the man sitting before her, the color rushing to her cheeks as Favian’s mouth stretched into a slow smile. Pushing himself to his feet, he made a small bow in Cathryn’s direction before turning to the people around him.

“Mistress Cathryn and I are already acquainted,” he announced to the circle. “In fact,” he added mischievously, casting a quick glance in Cathryn’s direction, “we became quite well acquainted when I rescued her, uh, derriere, from becoming too familiar with the mud!”

There was a ripple of laughter through the group as Cathryn fought the blush that rose to her cheeks.

“Really?” Peggy said, laughing. “You didn’t tell me, Cathryn!”

“There wasn’t really anything to tell,” Cathryn said with an airy wave of her hand. “The incident was barely worth remembering. My packages were quite ruined, so everything else was forgotten.”

Turning to Favian, she gave him a sly look. “So it was you who was my rescuer, Master, er, Drake? My apologies, I had quite forgotten.” She grinned as Favian gave a mocking salute of defeat. “Now if you will excuse me, I am in desperate need of some libation.” Turning on her heel, Cathryn walked away, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to calm her chaotic thoughts. Behind her she could hear her friends laughing, while someone chaffed Favian at his put-down.

BOOK: dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon
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