Samantha James (33 page)

Kathryn went very still inside. A shiver of uneasiness prickled her skin. She had the sinking feeling some terrible spectacle was about to commence.

'That is why I've decided 'tis time I rewarded such loyalty and faithfulness." Across the room, Guy's eyes met those of his startled friend. "Sir Hugh, I hereby grant Ashbury Keep and all its holdings to you." He held his cup high in silent salute. "To health, wealth, and happiness, my friend."

A boisterous cheer broke out. Next to Kathryn, Elizabeth threw her arms around Sir Hugh.

Kathryn was beyond hearing, beyond seeing. Her world was splintering all around her. Guy had just granted Ashbury to Sir Hugh .. . Sir Hugh. She had thought he could hurt her no more than he already had. Dear God, she was wrong, for Guy spared her nothing. Always, she thought helplessly, always he destroyed her dreams... She had just lost all she ever wanted, and to a heart so sorely battered and bruised, it was like a death blow.

There was shouting and laughter all around her. Everyone was frivolous and gay. Someone picked up a lute and began to sing a lilting tune of merriment. She could not stay here amidst such revelry... she would not. She rose and pushed her way forward. Certainly, there was no one to see her if she left. . . no one to care.

"Kathryn!"

She need not look behind her to realize who called her. Her steps began to quicken, one by one, until she was running.

"Kathryn!"

She was nearly at the top of the stairs. Her breath came in sobbing pants. Guy's heart leaped to his throat when she stumbled on the last step and went sprawling on the narrow landing. Hands on her waist, he tried to help her up.

She wrenched from his hold. "Do not touch me!" she hissed.

She backed toward the corridor, her face white with rage. He stretched out a hand toward her but did not touch her. "Kathryn," he said urgently. "Let me explain."

Her eyes glowed in burning hatred. "What is there to explain?" The ragged breath she drew burned her lungs. "Ashbury was my home, mine and Elizabeth's. Not yours. Not Sir Hugh's! Now there is no hope, no hope at all—”

Ashbury! Bitter frustration gnawed at him. It always came first with her—it always would! He clenched his jaw, fighting to hold tight to his temper. Didn't she see there was no malice or spite in passing title to Hugh? This was the only way he could think to end her compulsive desire for Ashbury. Indeed, he had hoped it might pacify her.

"Think," he said tightly. "Kathryn, think! Sir Hugh intends to marry Elizabeth. Ashbury will remain her home, always. Possession will still be in your family—"

She clapped her hands over her ears, her eyes wild. "Why should I believe you? You sought to shame me by bringing me here. You trample on my pride and my dignity! You—you take everything from me and leave me nothing!" She whirled and ran toward her chamber.

Guy's hand fell to his side. This time he did not try to stop her. Her heart was closed against him, as surely as a wall of stone. He could only hope that soon she would see reason. Reluctantly he made his way back to the hall.

He did not see the furtive shadow that slipped from the wall behind Kathryn.

Near her chamber, Kathryn reached to snatch open the door. Behind her, a palm splayed wide above hers, thrusting it closed. She spun about with a shriek of rage.

Roderick caught her by the wrists only an instant before she would have clawed his face. Stunned that it was he and not Guy, she gaped at him.

"Shhh, Kathryn. Do not say a word, just hear me out." His hands slipped to her shoulders. "I know how unhappy you are, love. I know it's all because of that arrogant whoreson de Marche. No one knows better than I how he has wronged you! But you need not feel you have no one to turn to, for I am here." With his thumbs he slowly stroked her collarbone. "You have only to say the word and I will always be here."

Her heart began to slow its frantic throb. "I do not know what you mean," she whispered.

"We planned to run off and be married once, Kathryn. What's to stop us from doing so now?" He threw back his tawny head and laughed. "Think what sweet revenge it would be on de Marche!"

She searched his face, convinced she'd heard wrong. "You would marry me," she said slowly, "even though I carry another man's child?"

Something hard crossed his handsome features. "You don't love him, Kathryn. I know you don't."

But she did not love him either! Feeling torn and confused, she did not stop him when he pulled her close and smothered her mouth with his. Kathryn submitted passively and let him part her lips, feeling curiously unaffected by the kiss. She felt neither pleasure nor displeasure.

Roderick did not seem to notice. He raised his head and gave a triumphant laugh. "You see, Kathryn? Nothing has changed between us. You cannot refuse to marry me now!"

Kathryn neither agreed nor disagreed. "This is so sudden," she said slowly. "Roderick, so much has happened. I must have time to think on this."

His smile vanished, replaced by an ugly sneer. "Judging from the look of you, I'd say time is short. In only a few months your babe will be born a bastard—"

She cried out sharply. "No! Do not say that! My babe is not a bastard!"

"He will be if you don't marry—and quickly. I'll raise the child as my own, I swear." His eyes gleamed. "Kathryn, you must marry me now. Tonight. The monastery is not far. We can leave now and marry there as we once planned."

'Tonight?" A hint of uncertainty dwelled in her tone. "Roderick, that is so soon."

He made a sound of impatience. 'It must be tonight. If you do not give the gossip time to die down, it will forever stain your child. Is that what you want?"

Oh, God, she thought starkly. He was right. If she did not act soon, this one single folly would taint the rest of her life—and the life of her child! Guy would never marry her. He hated her too much to bind himself to her for the rest of his life. Unbidden, unwanted, the memory of these past few days crowded her heart. The shame and humiliation, the pity and condemnation—it was more than she could endure. The prospect of bearing her child outside of wedlock made her shudder. She would be forever shunned, forever disgraced.

And her child would have naught but a legacy of shame and degradation.

Roderick was right. She could do little to change her circumstances, but she could not destroy the innocent life within her. At least the child would have a name.

She swallowed. "I will marry you, Roderick." Her voice was very low.

He claimed her lips with another long unbroken kiss, then gave her a gentle shove toward her chamber. "Pack a fitting gown," he ordered. "I'll meet you in the stables."

Within minutes they were riding through the gates.

Chapter 15

It was early yet when Guy excused himself and made his way up the stairs. In the hall, both ale and conversation continued to flow freely. He had rejoined the celebration out of duty and consideration for Hugh. He had even laughed and joked, but it was merely a performance. In truth, after his confrontation with Kathryn, he was scarcely in the mood for festivities.

His footsteps slowed as he neared her door. His gaze bored into the dark oak panel. Within, all was quiet. He wondered if she slept, if her temper had cooled. Did he dare hope she might listen to him now? With a silent sigh, he moved further down the passage.

It seemed he was not in the mood for battle either.

In his chamber, he caught his breath in surprise. The candle in the wall sconce flared brighter, casting flickering shadows on the figure curled beneath the furs. The figure shifted and he caught the rounded flare of a feminine hip, the fleeting glimpse of white limbs.

The breath rushed from his lungs. He drew it in slowly, aware of a drumming pulse beating deep inside him. A slow smile crept across his lips as he moved noiselessly to the bedside. As Kathryn was so often wont to do, this time it appeared he had been the one to judge too hastily.

Long dark hair spilled across his pillow. He reached for a trailing strand. Already he could feel it, smooth as silk, clinging to his fingers with a life of its own...

Coarse brittle curls chafed his skin. He dropped the hank of hair as if he'd been burned just as the figure in the bed turned and sat up. The sheet fell away, exposing naked, jutting breasts. Helga smiled up at him.

Guy was not amused. "What are you about?" he demanded.

She wet her lips. "My lord," she murmured, "you've spent these many nights alone. I seek merely to ease your needs." She arched her back, displaying her breasts in what she perceived to be a seductive endeavor. After Kathryn's small but exquisitely rounded fullness, Helga looked immense and grotesque.

Disgust soured his stomach. "If I wanted a woman in my bed," he said flatly, "she'd be there at my invitation. And as I have no recollection of such an event, kindly remove yourself from my chamber." He grabbed the pile of clothes on the bench behind him and flung them at her.

Helga caught them with a little gasp of rage. "And who would you have? The virtuous Kathryn?" she scoffed. "Why, she'll soon be fat as a sow and then you'll be wishing you had a woman like me to warm your bed."

"I think not." His smile was frigid.

She flounced from the bed. 'Think you're too good for me, eh? Well, I've news for you, my fine, fancy lord." She jerked her kirtle over her head.

"She obviously likes the sport she finds in Roderick's bed far better than yours!"

His smile withered. "What do you imply?" he asked roughly.

"I imply nothing. The lady's actions speak for themselves, for she has run off with Sir Roderick!"

"Run off," he repeated. "You mean she is gone?"

"Aye, milord!"

His gut felt as if he'd been rammed broadside with a sword. "How do you know this?" When she said nothing, he grabbed her arm. 'Tell me!"

" 'Tis lucky for you I overhead them plotting. They left for the monastery, where they plan to be married."

Guy whirled and grabbed his scabbard from the corner. "This monastery. It is the one outside the village?"

Helga shrugged. "Mayhap you're not so lucky after all," she taunted with a smile. "Why, they're probably wedded and bedded by now!"

If Guy heard, he gave no sign of it. Moments later, the tower watchman scratched his head as yet another horse and rider raced through the gates.

The night was damp and cold and eerily silent. A full moon spilled down in shining splendor, lending an eerie glow to the dense layer of fog that clung to the ground. His mind ran apace with his destrier's flashing hooves. Christ, was Helga right? Did Kathryn truly prefer Roderick over him? He swore a violent oath. If only Henry hadn't demanded his every waking moment! He would be the one to whom she'd be wedded and bedded—not Roderick.

A horrible idea clutched at him. He had not considered that Kathryn might not want the child. One thought led to another .. . The possibility she might not want his child disturbed him still more.

He spurred his horse faster.

The destrier's sides were heaving and lathered when Guy reined up outside the gray stone walls of the monastery. He quickly tethered his mount and strode through the ivy-drenched archway that marked the entrance. He grabbed the bell pull and tugged insistently, not once but five times. Hollow clanging resounded within the darkened interior.

Guy blew out a breath of frosty air and tried again, this time punctuating the sound with a furious pounding on the door. A restless impatience marked his steps as he paced the muddied cobblestones. Finally a narrow panel on the inside of the door slid back. An owlish countenance framed by a deep cowl peered through the grilled opening. "Tell me, my son," said the monk, "what do you seek?"

"God's mercy and yours—and Father, I need it badly, for I come in search of a woman, Kathryn of Ashbury, who was brought here by the knight Sir Roderick."

The monk stared at him long and hard, as if to take his measure. Then, apparently satisfied with what he saw, he said slowly, "They have been given rooms for the night. Their marriage vows will be spoken in the morning."

He wasn't too late! He exhaled with vast relief and went on swiftly, "Father, I am Lord Guy de Marche, Earl of Sedgewick. I pledge a generous boon if you can help me. Kathryn is with child—my child, not Sir Roderick's. There has been a grave misunderstanding, a misunderstanding which I intend to rectify."

The monk ushered him down a narrow passage where he pointed out Roderick's room and passed him the rushlight. "Lady Kathryn's is there at the end, milord." The monk quietly retreated.

The room was small and stark, void of any decoration except a wooden crucifix above the narrow bed. A stub of a candle revealed Roderick stretched out there.

His eyes widened as Guy stepped inside. Guy gave him no chance to speak. A fist on the front of his tunic, he hauled him to his feet.

"Mother of Christ!" the other man gasped. "How did you—"

He got no further. "If you value your life," Guy warned flatly, "I suggest you make haste back to Ashbury now—else you will make me forget we are in the house of the Lord."

Roderick grabbed his boots and fled.