Margo Maguire (9 page)

“Aye. ’Twas said Cecily did not care to wed.”

“The truth was that she did not care to wed a Saxon.”

“But she came and they married…”

“Lady Cecily was…unhappy here,” said Lora. “I did not know her character before her marriage, but in the past year she was demanding, overbearing, and disagreeable.”

Kathryn recalled Cecily’s petulant expression every time she’d seen her at the abbey and realized the girl had never been lighthearted or happy. It never occurred to her that Cecily had been merely mean-spirited. “So she did not endear herself to anyone here.”

“To say the least,” Lora said offhandedly. “’Twill take some time for our people to accept you, but soon they will. They’ll see that you are nothing like the lord’s late wife.”

Kathryn doubted that Lord Edric’s attitude would ever change. Nor would that of the priest and steward. Their hatred for their Norman conquerors was too strong.

Kathryn gave a slight shake of her head. “No. I must go.”

“Do you think they will accept you at Evesham Bridge?”

Kathryn felt her face heat. Usually, ’twas only the widows and daughters of well-to-do men who were able to afford entry to a nunnery. She hoped to gain admission on the mere promise of her dowry. Eventually, she would have to notify her family that she’d survived the Scots’ attack and had taken herself to Evesham Bridge to avoid the derision of her peers.

“Under the circumstances, I…believe they will have mercy and take me in.”

Lora’s expression made it clear that she did not accept Kathryn’s assertion.

“Please, Lora. I cannot say more. Believe me when I say I cannot return home. The nunnery is my only choice.”

“Look at Aidan,” the midwife argued. “He needs you.”

Emotion tore at Kathryn’s throat and she shut her eyes against the tears that had begun to form. She closed her heart against a surge of motherly love, aware that she must distance herself from him. She lifted the bairn and handed him to Lora. “Take him. I—”

She fell silent when Edric strode into the chamber. Lora stood. “My lord…has it been an hour?”

“You betrayed me!” Kathryn whispered when she realized they’d been sitting in the designated southwest solar. Lora knew how she felt about the proposed lesson, yet she’d brought her here.

“No—I acted as a friend,” Lora replied quietly. “’Tis best that you learn what Edric can teach you.”

“Take Aidan,” Edric said. “The Norman will find you when we’re finished here.”

“My lord,” said Kathryn, feeling cornered once again, “I assure you this is not necessary.”

Lora quit the room while Edric circled ’round Kathryn. She stood before the settee, as anxious
now as she was the time she’d stared down the boar in the woods. Edric had come to her rescue then, but he seemed the dangerous predator now.

Edric came directly to the point. “When the Scots stole you from Rushton, what happened?”

Kathryn’s breath caught at the memory of that horrible night. “I do not wish to speak of it.”

“You
will
speak of it, so that I can show you how you might have avoided capture.”

He wore a plain tunic that matched the deep blue of his eyes. His leggings were black, but the dense muscles of his legs were clearly delineated through the wool. With his hands on his hips, his shoulders seemed even broader, his arms thicker. Kathryn rubbed her damp hands together and turned toward the window.

“Two men singled me out,” she said. “They chased me and trapped me in a storage building.”

“What did you do?”

She glanced back to look at him. “I—I don’t remember.”

“Of course you do,” he said, dropping his hands to his sides and taking a step toward her. “They split up, did they not?”

She nodded.

“Did you run?”

“Aye. But first I threw a wooden box at one of them.”

“Did it help?”

“No. It had no effect. They came at me and knocked me down.” Emotion welled in her throat as the memories of that horrible night flooded her mind. “They tore my clothes and I thought…I thought…”

“That they would rape you.”

“Aye,” she whispered.

E
dric’s blood burned with anger as she told of the attack, of how the Ferguson men had hurt and abused her. No woman should have to endure such treatment, not even a disagreeable wench like Cecily. But surely not gentle, delicate Kate, who looked at Aidan with such motherly affection. Her bruises were fading and there was only a hint of the cut on her lip, but that did not diminish the brutality of the attack upon her.

“When you kicked him, did you aim for any particular spot?” he asked.

A familiar crease appeared above her brow. “N-no. Why?”

He came close enough to see the gold flecks in her eyes and the thick, black lashes that framed them. “Do you know a man’s most vulnerable part?”

He saw her throat move as she swallowed. “His nose?”

Edric laughed. “Lower.”

She blushed and it was Edric’s turn to swallow. He’d done his best to ignore the womanly curves she’d inadvertently shown him, but it was no use. He should never have come up here, should have ridden out with Oswin as he’d planned.

Kate’s features tightened in annoyance, and when she started to walk ’round him toward the door, Edric blocked her path. “Use your knees or elbows—strike him where it hurts and he will be immobilized for a few moments, mayhap long enough for you to run.”

Crossing her arms, she nodded. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll do that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m sure Lora has other—”

“I want you to try it.”

“Try it?”

“Aye. I’m going to grab you. Try to do me some damage and get away.”

“’Tis not necessary. I’ll remember what you told me.”

“You’re too small to overpower a man who would attack you. You must use your wits. Be unpredictable. Do the thing he would least expect.” She started to go ’round him again, but he slid his arm across her waist and pulled her against him.

She stiffened and clawed at his arm.

“No—try to turn so you can—”

She kicked his shin and started to struggle, blindly lashing out at him. She used all four of her limbs to fight him, and soon Edric had no choice but to lift her and hold her against him. He heard her whimpers and realized she was not simply trying to get away from him.

She was frightened. Truly afraid. And it occurred to him that she might be feeling the same kind of terror as when the Scots had abducted her. He knew of seasoned warriors who relived battles in their dreams…

“Kate, stop.”

She flailed against him, her legs kicking ineffectually, her arms swinging wildly with no target.

“’Tis only me. You are safe.”

He shifted his weight and leveraged her to the floor between the settee and the fire, taking hold
of her wrists and quieting her kicking with his own legs. Her breath came out in rapid, shuddering bursts and her eyes were fixed on some point beyond him. Edric was certain she did not realize where she was.

He immobilized her legs with his own, but let go of her wrists to take her head in his hands. “Look at me! There isn’t a Scotsman within fifty miles.”

Her struggles diminished slightly, but he could see that she was still deep in the throes of her recent memories. “Kate. Easy, now.” Edric continued to speak soothing words, but he didn’t know if she heard or understood him.

When she finally focused her gaze upon him, she stilled, but confusion clouded her eyes. She trembled and took a few whimpering breaths.
“Mon Dieu…Je m’excuse. Je ne sais pas ce que j’ai…”
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. “I don’t know what happened to me. I…”

Edric barely heard her. Not while he lay half on top of her, fully aroused by Kate’s feminine body beneath him and her beautiful, puzzled eyes that sought an explanation for what had just happened. Her lips were full, moist, and inviting. He could feel her heart beating in her chest, beneath those soft breasts that his son so favored. He placed his
palm against the center of her chest. Gently, tantalizingly close to heaven, he felt her pulse racing.

“Kate.” He heard himself say her name again as her body seemed to swell and soften beneath him. Her gaze touched upon his eyes, then his mouth.

He slid his hand down to her waist and caressed her there, then moved to her hip and leg, pulling her closer, slipping one of his legs between hers. He closed his eyes and savored the fierce arousal he felt. Stifling a groan of pleasure, he lowered his head and touched his lips to hers, restraining his urge to plunder her mouth, wary of frightening her again.

He felt her tremble, and then her eyes drifted closed once again. Raw sensation rippled through him, like the sun’s heat on a warm day. He deepened the kiss and she responded to him, her lips soft and welcoming. When he folded her into his arms, her breath quickened, then her hand touched his shoulder and rose to the nape of his neck. She arrowed her fingers into his hair and he leaned into the caress. He parted her lips and slid inside.

She was utterly feminine. He tasted sweet cider on her tongue, and sucked it into his mouth. He feasted on her, like a man who couldn’t recall his last meal. She shifted beneath him and Edric moved to cup her breast.

Kate broke the kiss and drew in a deep, shuddering breath. “Edric…”

He loosened the laces of her bodice and shoved the cloth aside. “Beautiful.” Full mounds were tipped by nipples the color and texture of a ripe peach. Kate arched her back when Edric circled one with his tongue. Sighing, she took his head in her hands and held him in place.

With his free hand, he moved her skirts aside and ventured into that feminine territory above her stockinged legs. He moved tentatively, touching the responsive indentation behind her knee, then sliding up the smooth flesh of her thigh.

Gently, he touched the juncture with his knuckles and she closed her legs against him. “Open, sweeting.” He drew her other nipple into his mouth and teased it with his tongue; her legs dropped apart again.

Edric was as hard as a lance and aching for her touch, but his exploration of her feminine attributes was nearly as pleasurable. Using his thumb, he traced a circle ’round the nether passage he so yearned to explore. He slipped one finger inside her while he fondled the sensitive nub at the apex.

A feather-light sound came from the back of Kate’s throat, and Edric kissed her mouth as he imitated with his fingers the act he craved. She moved against him, opening for him, greeting his
foray with innocent abandon. Her breath quickened and her breasts rose against his chest. When she shuddered and tightened, he knew she’d found the essential fulfillment he also sought.

“Aye,” he whispered, loosening his belt. “’Tis nearly perfect, is it not? The only thing missing is me. Inside you.”

Oblivious to the muted sound of voices outside, Edric pushed aside his braies, took one of her hands and placed it upon his cock. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and dazed, but she encircled him with her fingers and instinctually guided him toward her portal.

The door of the chamber crashed open and the vague, distant voices became louder.

“Damnable Norman giglet!”

“Father Algar!” ’Twas Lora’s voice now, but Edric did not waste time listening to their argument. With more haste than he’d ever thought possible, he drew Kate’s skirts down her legs and righted his own clothes before Father Algar could get ’round the settee and see just how far they’d gone. Fortunately, Lora impeded the priest’s passage into the room.

Edric pushed up from the floor and helped Kate to a sitting position. “What business have you to barge into a man’s private quarters?” he demanded.

He felt Kate trembling under his hand, and knew she was fumbling with the laces of her bodice.

“’Tis an offense against nature—Saxon and Norman mix with ruinous result,” Father Algar cautioned. “Disasters will follow you, Edric of Braxton Fell!”

Kathryn did not dare look at Edric, standing with his hands upon his hips as he faced Father Algar. What the Saxon lord had done to her was more astonishing than anything she could ever have imagined. As much as she’d hoped, she hadn’t known that a man could give such pleasure to a woman. She wondered if he’d felt the same.

“Send her away!” cried the priest. “We were well rid of pestilent Normans but you brought yet another into our midst!”

“Take care, priest. The Norman you are ‘rid’ of was my wife.”

“But your
wife
brought naught but—”

“’Twas not your concern while she was alive, and it is not your concern now!” Edric spoke the words low and dangerously. “State your business and take your leave!”

The priest clasped his hands behind his back and turned ’round. “Your brother refuses the Last Sacrament.”

The priest’s words gave Kathryn a queasy
feeling in the pit of her stomach. All of Braxton Fell believed Bryce’s injury was her fault, and should he die without the Sacrament, he would spend eternity in hell.

Because of her.

“Come, Kate,” said Lora. She took Kathryn’s arm and drew her toward the door. “Let Lord Edric deal with Father Algar.”

In her confused state, Kathryn was glad to leave the two men. She barely understood what had just happened with Edric, and needed time to clear her head. Lora took the lead and drew her down the corridor to the nursery where she found Gwen watching over Aidan. They collected Kathryn’s shawl and a blanket for the bairn.

“Are you all right?” Lora asked when Gwen had gone.

Kathryn remained silent, but nodded her head.

“’Tis a pleasant day…A walk outdoors will be good for…for Aidan.”

“If only we’d done so before,” Kathryn muttered, her legs still weak from the experience she’d just shared with Edric. “Why did you take me to that room, knowing I preferred not to meet with Lord Edric? You betrayed me.”

Lora’s expression was one of sisterly concern. “I hope you do not truly believe that. A woman
needs to learn all she can to protect herself, and Edric is best qualified to teach you.”

“I’d rather he just gave me a weapon,” Kathryn muttered. “If I had a knife, no man would ever assault me again.”

Lora reached under her skirt and took out a blade with a dark handle. “I keep this strapped to my leg. You might do the same.” She handed the dagger to Kathryn, who took it gingerly.

“I…I cannot take your—”

“I have another. We’ll have to fashion a strap for you. For now, just keep it in your garter.”

“Is there no end to your abilities, Lora?”

The woman grinned and headed for the door. ’Twas certain Kathryn could not lose her head again as she’d done earlier. If she were attacked again, she would need to keep her wits about her. Later, in the privacy of the nursery, she would fashion a strap to hold the knife, and practice reaching for it.

And she would think about the suggestions Edric had given her…before he’d ravished her with just a kiss and a touch of his hand.

Wrapping herself and Aidan snugly, Kathryn followed the other woman down the stairs and out of the hall. They took the main path toward the church, but Lora and Kathryn turned south and walked across a grassy courtyard.

Lora gestured to the tall building ahead, smaller than Edric’s keep, but larger than any cottage. ’Twas a structure made of timber with a high tower that had long, shuttered windows on its three sides. “’Tis the old keep, where Edric and Bryce were born and raised.”

“Might we go inside?”

“I don’t see why not.”

Kathryn tucked Aidan into the blanket for the walk across the courtyard.

“What did Edric teach you?” Lora asked.

Kathryn nearly choked at the question, but quickly realized Lora was asking about the lesson in defense. She cleared her throat. “’Twas odd…I don’t know what happened to me. One minute we were talking, and suddenly I felt as if I were reliving the raid at…er, Rushton. I fought him. I couldn’t think, but only tried to get away.”

“Well, that must be a good thing. No doubt he intended to teach you to get away. Did he show you where to kick? Or how to shove your knuckles into a man’s nose to break it?”

“Break his nose?” Kathryn’s stomach turned at the thought of it.

“No? Well, mayhap next time.”

Feeling overwhelmed by what had happened in the solar, Kathryn wondered if she should ask Lora about the things Edric had made her feel,
and whether he’d felt the same. Lora was a midwife, and she’d once had a husband. She would have knowledge of these things.

“I’m sure it’s perfectly natural to experience the same fright you felt at Rushton,” Lora said. “It hasn’t been so long since you were attacked, has it?”

Kathryn shook her head. “Seems like weeks.”

“I’m sure it does.” Lora pushed open the door and stepped inside. Kathryn followed and watched as Lora went to each window of the great hall and pulled open the shutters. ’Twas dark and dusty inside, with old wall hangings and furniture shrouded in shadows. The hall was smaller, more intimate than the one Edric now used, with space for only one large table on a dais in the center.

“My father was huscarl here,” said Lora, “before Drogan.”

Kathryn walked the length of the hall. “He spoke of you before, when Bryce was wounded.”

Lora smiled. “He fancies me.”

Kathryn had suspected as much. Drogan’s blushes were hard to miss, and she’d noticed the softening of his voice when he spoke of her. He kept Lora in his sights whenever she was near.

“My husband was his closest friend.”

“Did you love him very much?” Kathryn felt compelled to ask.

“Aye. Every woman should love and be loved as we did.”

Kathryn wondered if husbands and wives often engaged in the kind of intimate behavior she’d just shared with Edric, and wished there’d been a man at Kettwyck as besotted with her as Drogan was with Lora, a man who would not have minded that she’d been taken by the Fergusons. Then, mayhap she’d have been able to return to him, and all would be well.

Such things were beyond her grasp now.

Kathryn cuddled Aidan in her arms. “Why is the new keep so cold and bare?”

“Lord Edric thought his Norman bride would furnish it to her liking.”

“But she did not?”

“Cecily wanted only to return to Lichford, her father’s holding,” Lora replied. “She cared naught for her new home, nor her husband.”