Gayle Callen (20 page)

Although she struggled against it, Reynold’s face, dark with shadows, swam before her closed eyes. She shivered in wonder at the emotions that arose to squeeze her throat. Restlessly, she moved
her legs against the sheets. Although his face once inspired fear, now his narrowed eyes and stern lips spoke of passion held tightly under control, always simmering, waiting to burst forth and submerge her in wave upon wave of desire too long hidden.

Katherine groaned and wrapped her arms around the pillow. Her wedding day loomed, yet all she could think of was her soon-to-be brother by marriage. She would be happy with James’s devotion if she had never met Reynold. She would also probably be dead.

She squeezed her eyes shut and a single tear fell from her lashes. She could not change the past. She must bury her guilt and live a pure life to atone for her sins. She should confess—but no. She could not tell James’s priest, who would know her voice. She could only confide in God.

Katherine slipped from the bed and knelt down on the stone floor. She folded her hands and bowed her head, prepared to promise her Lord anything if He would ease her conscience.

The door suddenly opened and Katherine’s head jerked up in shock. Reynold squeezed his large body through the smallest opening possible, then quietly shut the door behind him. He leaned back against the portal and simply looked at her.

Katherine could only gape at him, feeling as if words would never pass her stunned lips again. Then panic set in. With a gasp, she gathered the skirt of her bedclothes around her and jumped to
her feet. She pointed wildly at the door while backing away.

“G-get out!” she cried in a voice barely above a whisper, her body shaking. She stumbled backwards against her trunk of clothes, and fell hard into a sitting position atop the lid. Reynold seemed to rise above her, like a seductive demon in his black robes.

K
atherine tried to rally the revulsion she once felt upon seeing Reynold. But now excitement and danger throbbed through her veins, her breathing came in gasps, and her hands shook. She twisted them into her skirts.

“Reynold, this is the eve of my wedding!” Her voice cracked once and she cleared her throat. “If my parents discover you here—”

“Dress quickly, and no one need know.”

“Dress—”

He sank to his knees before her. Katherine pushed backward as his face neared hers, and almost fell off the trunk, but he caught her arms.

“Release me!”

He did as she asked, but still he loomed too near.

“Reynold, what insanity prompted you to risk exposure?”

“Not insanity, my lady. I feared for your peace of mind should you find out that my brother does
not believe your story of the traitors to King Richard.”

Katherine’s wariness faded slightly. “But—I was there when he sent his men to warn the king. He promised—”

“He only made his promise to soothe you, Katherine. He does not believe a mere woman could have useful information for the king.”

“He thinks I have lied?” she demanded, attempting to stand.

Reynold pushed her hips onto the trunk, and Katherine was too upset to protest.

“He does not believe you a liar. He just thinks the information would be easily discovered by the king without your help.”

“But how could a man, even a king, believe his own friends would turn against him?”

He put a finger to her lips and the shock jolted through Katherine’s body. She knocked his hand away and looked anywhere but into his face.

“I agree with you,” he said. “It is still vital that we take your message to the king.”

“Reynold, you will do this for me?” she asked, searching his face.

“I cannot do it alone.”

“Surely, one of your sister’s men—”

“I need you, Katherine.”

His hoarse voice made her shiver and she hugged her arms across her chest. The crescent moon faded away as a cloud came between it and the earth. Reynold’s dark face grew murkier, and she could no longer tell if he was staring at her
with those intense, strange-colored eyes.

“Tomorrow I marry your brother,” she answered flatly, willing him to accept that and leave.

“I am not talking about that! You are the dead queen’s cousin. Do you think King Richard will believe me, a monk from a ruinous monastery, or his own relative?”

“Reynold, you must convince him! I cannot—”

“You can,” he said, dragging her to her feet and squeezing her wrists when she tried to flee. “I will not let your cause die. I will not allow you to hate yourself some day because you were too cowardly to finish the mission you started.”

“Cowardly!” She strained against his grip until her arms ached, then kicked him in the shin. Reynold grunted and pulled her against his body.

She fought the lure of his muscles enveloping her, tempting her to shut out the world and think only of sweet desire. “I will not disappoint our families, Reynold! I must marry tomorrow and you shall go to the king.”

“Not without you.” With one hand he held her face still. “I saw your kidnapper tonight.”

Katherine drew a ragged breath of alarm, then struggled harder.

“Do you not understand?” Reynold continued. “He will not rest until you are silenced, whether you stay here or not.”

“James will protect me,” she whispered.

“James is a strong man, but sometimes a fool. He does not see the threat.”

“I shall make him see! We’ll have that man ar
rested while you search out the king.”

“What if the kidnapper finds you first?”

Katherine shook her head wildly.

“Foolish hopes, my sweet. You are coming with me.”

Although she kicked and fought, Reynold dragged her towards the door, then bent to pick up his magic sack. He dropped her to the bed, where he emptied his sack of its contents.

“Your gown, my lady.”

Katherine turned her face away. “I thought they had burned it.”

“I saved it for you. Now get dressed.”

“I will not! The next gown I wear will be for my marriage to James.”

Reynold cursed softly, then turned her facedown onto the bed. “Then I shall dress you myself.”

Katherine gasped. He skimmed her legs with his fingers as he lifted her nightclothes, suspending time for a heart-stopping moment. She could feel herself falling under the spell his hands wove, succumbing to the magic of desire.

She arched away from him and whispered, “I’ll do it myself! I swear!”

He instantly moved away. Katherine pushed herself off the bed with the wariness of an animal. She felt trapped, afraid of her own longings for this man. But she wouldn’t go with him. She’d lull him into security, then flee at the first opportunity.

With dismay, Katherine realized her enemy the moon had shown himself again. How would she dress? As she hesitated, Reynold lifted the robes
over his head and dropped them to the floor. He stood naked before her, obviously unashamed of his desire for her. Katherine’s mouth dropped open and she stood frozen, staring at him. She felt torn apart by her own sinful desires, and frightened that he might seduce her the night before her wedding.

Instead he turned away and donned his braies and tunic. The breath left Katherine’s lungs as she sank back against the bed, burying her face in the rough wool of her disguise. Thank God she did not have to choose between fighting him or relinquishing herself. The sinful part of her sighed in disappointment, and she buried it quickly. Turning her back, Katherine dropped her nightclothes and donned the smock and sleeveless gown.

When Reynold appeared beside her to fill his sack, Katherine shrank away from him.

“Do not fear me,” he whispered. His fingers stilled and he bowed his head. “I could not bear it.”

Katherine almost confessed that it was herself she feared, the traitorous part of her that even now longed to spread herself on the bed and invite him inside her.
Run
, a voice urged within. Reynold turned towards the door before she could make her weak limbs move.

“Come, Katherine.”

She followed, holding onto the knowledge that she would flee—where? To her parents, who would look at her peasant clothes as proof of her sin? To James, who would know of her betrayal?
Reynold took her hand and led her into the quiet hall. Katherine held back, gazing wildly at all the closed doors, afraid to run, afraid to be alone with him.

Reynold felt Katherine’s hesitation, saw her look down the deserted hallway. If she screamed now—he bent and tossed her over his shoulder. He heard a squeak as the air was forced from Katherine’s lungs, but she thankfully made no other sound. She was not foolish enough to wish to be caught in such a compromising situation.

She began to pound on his back and claw with her nails. Reynold bore it, chuckling softly to himself. She was beautiful and brave, if only she would believe it. When her feet kicked at his groin, Reynold stopped smiling and held those lethal weapons in a firm grip.

As he descended the stairs into the great hall, Reynold swatted Katherine’s backside to warn her. She responded by smacking his as hard as she could. All around them on the floor lay their families’ retainers, servants and soldiers. To avoid picking through sleeping bodies, Reynold veered sharply into the first corridor.

The darkness swallowed them quickly. He tried to think of nothing but Katherine’s weight on his shoulder and the smoky odor of torches that had burned all the previous day. He could not dwell on how his brother would view this. Would he let Reynold explain why Katherine had to talk to the king? Or would James realize what had happened between his brother and his betrothed?

Reynold hesitated then, his steps slowing. Would Katherine’s parents think she had gone willingly with him? Perhaps he should leave a message of explanation. He imagined them all preparing for a wedding and finding no bride. He admitted to himself that he felt little guilt for delaying Katherine’s marriage. He did not want to watch, did not want to pretend it could be him standing beside her at the church door.

He picked up his pace, following the corridor by feel alone. When he hesitated at a turn, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching them quickly. Katherine gasped and clutched his tunic. He knew how frightened she was to be caught like this by her parents. Holding his breath, Reynold tried to listen above his heartbeat. If only it were a guard, or a kitchen boy or—

“Reynold!”

The whisper of a woman’s voice floated down the dark corridor. Katherine stiffened. He suddenly recognized the voice.

“Margery?”

Katherine’s body seemed to wilt as Reynold peered into the darkness. He first smelled the scent of his sister’s perfume a moment before she stopped before him.

“I heard you upstairs, Reynold. What is going on?”

He reached out to touch her, just as Margery did the same. Their hands met and clasped tightly. Katherine jerked on his shoulder, then moaned.

“Reynold!” Margery said with a gasp. “Are you carrying…a woman?”

“’Tis Katherine. Follow me outside and I will explain everything.”

Reynold took Margery’s hand and began to pull before she asked any more questions. He hoped no one else saw them. He’d have much explaining to do—a monk carrying one woman and dragging another. His hand finally encountered an iron door. He wasted a precious moment searching his pouch for the keys he had earlier pilfered from James. He pulled them out from beneath Katherine’s legs and earned himself a quick kick.

“Reynold?” Margery whispered.

“Shhh!” He found the key, forced the lock, and stepped outside. He descended the narrow stairs built into the wall beside the overgrown lady’s garden, which was barely visible in the sliver of moonlight. He turned to face his sister, hoping the shadow of the trees sheltered them from any passing guards.

Margery ignored him as she bent down to see Katherine’s face. “Are you all right?”

“Tell him I’m about to become ill all over his stockings.”

Reynold swung her to her feet, only to watch her stagger and fall to her knees with a pitiful groan.

“Katherine!” he whispered, reaching to help her stand.

She slapped his hands away and held her stom
ach. “I need a moment to breathe. Margery, please, this isn’t what it appears.”

“I will make the explanations,” Reynold said. “My sister will believe us.”

“He kidnapped me!” Katherine cried, then covered her mouth and stared over her shoulder into the shadows.

Margery’s hands landed on her hips as she faced Reynold. “Brother, dear, you had better have an interesting explanation for this.”

“Of course I do.” He told her all about the traitors and James’s disbelief. “I cannot allow Katherine to feel guilty if King Richard is not warned. He will not believe me, but a relative of his dead wife—”

“I am to be married in a few hours!” Katherine said, climbing unsteadily to her feet. “What will James think?”

Reynold folded his arms across his chest. “Margery can explain everything.”

“Explain what?” Margery countered. “What this looks like, or what you say it is?”

“It is one and the same,” Katherine said. “A kidnapping. Your brother forced me from my bed, dressed me in this hateful gown—”

“Dressed you?” Margery interrupted, a smile quirking her lips.

“Forced me to dress! And when I tried to resist, he carried me like a sack of grain.” She staggered again and clutched her stomach. “I doubt I’ll be capable of eating for days.”

Reynold ignored her. “Margery, meeting you is
much better than leaving a message. You can explain to James that I am not stealing his bride.”

“Aren’t you?”

Reynold refused to think about that just yet. “We cannot waste a moment. Even now, Henry Tudor may be preparing for battle.”

Margery rested her chin in her hand, head down, her tapping toe softly rustling her gown. Reynold tried to wait patiently, but when Katherine took a step backwards, he grasped her arm and brought her closer.

“Going somewhere, my lady?”

Before Katherine could answer, Margery nodded. “I’ll do it. I’ll explain why you have taken her, and that Katherine is unwilling. Katherine, this will protect you, but Reynold—James will not be pleased.”

“I shall risk it. What can he do—send me to a monastery?” Reynold asked.

Margery touched his arm. “Be careful, brother. Perhaps you act too soon in this matter.”

Reynold stepped away and without warning, swung Katherine over his shoulder. She moaned and halfheartedly slapped at his backside. “I am sorry, Katherine. If we are discovered, this will protect you.”

“How do you mean to escape?” Margery asked.

Reynold shrugged. “I shall distract the guards as best I am able.”

“Didn’t James ever tell you about the door he cut into the curtain wall?”

“A door?” Reynold demanded, aghast. “He
breached his own defenses so foolishly?”

“No one has besieged us in two hundred years, Reynold.”

“But if a war befalls us—”

Margery laughed softly. “He regrets it now. Yet he was intrigued with having an escape route if unwelcome company came to call.”

“Just tell me where the fool cut his own walls and we shall leave.”

She pointed past the lady’s garden, where the land sloped downward. “In the opposite corner to the dungeon. I’ve heard you’re familiar with that area.”

He looked askance at his sister. “I have James’s ring of keys. When we are through, I shall leave them beside the door. If James tries to follow us, delay him as long as you can. Tell him the kidnapper is still here—he is a red-haired stranger lurking about. He has a propensity to wiggle his tongue between his missing teeth. You should easily recognize him. Do your best to make James see that I will protect Katherine with my life.”

Margery placed a kiss upon his cheek. “Good luck, my brother. Lady Katherine, forgive his methods, if you can.”

Katherine grumbled something into his back as Reynold strode forward. He halted at the rattle of a sword leaving its scabbard.