Sandra Madden (21 page)

"Weel na, ye are most persuasive, Mistress Kate. I should like to steal ye away from Stamford's employ."

A bubble of laughter escaped the young girl, as if Donald had made a jest. But he was serious, as Kate would realize as soon as his questions about her had been answered. Before he left Rose Hall, the Duke of Laird felt certain he would be making Kate a generous offer. She would be good for Anne. The gardener's daughter would bring joy to Downes Castle.

* * * *

Twenty or more guests yet dined or were deep in conversation in the banquet house, a separate dwelling on the grounds of Rose Hall. Robin and Christopher had joined Edmund for a tankard of ale and excited discussion of the outdoor tennis court.

Edmund listened with one ear, keeping his eye on the door, hoping Kate would return and confess she'd been jesting about accepting the position as nurse in Manchester. He caught sight of her as soon as she sailed through the door.

The amber earrings he'd given her at the fair twinkled on her ears. But she was on the arm of Donald Cameron, Duke of Doneval.

Immediately all promises not to meddle in Kate's affairs evaporated.

Quickly excusing himself from his friends, Edmund approached Kate and Doneval with a forced smile.

The duke dipped his head in greeting. "Lord Stamford, how fare ye?"

"Doneval." Edmund reached out and slapped the duke's shoulder in friendly greeting, though he didn't feel friendly at the moment. "What brings you to Rose Hall?"

"I shall not stay long, only a day. The queen has summoned me to Burghley House where she is in progress."

"Lady Cordelia is disappointed that Queen Elizabeth does not plan to stop at Rose Hall," Kate said.

"She may yet. I advised my aunt not to give up hope." Edmund had issued a rather belated invitation. The queen's presence and the hundreds in her retinue would complicate life at Rose Hall.

"Queen Bess is an inspiration to all Englishwomen," Kate told the duke.

"Not quite," Edmund retorted, raising his eyes heavenward, "praise God."

If all English women valued their virginity as much as the queen was purported to, England would be lost.

The gleam of amusement in the duke's deep brown eyes and the quirk of his lips showed he understood well Edmund's meaning. "Indeed," he said.

Edmund could not totally dislike a man who demonstrated a sense of humor. He escorted Donald Cameron to the chair he had recently vacated. Once the duke was settled and served, Edmund ushered Kate to the inner court where the masque had just finished.

"Do you see James Moore?" he asked, searching the crowd. In his heart he hoped the barrister had been seized with flux and been forced to leave the festivities. 'Twas foolish, for James was the best husband Kate could hope for.

Edmund had no right to hold Kate prisoner. Neither, it seemed, could he let her go with any feeling of relief. Having her marry James would be far preferable than seeing her off to Manchester. He could not visit her in Manchester as he might in London.

"There he is!"

Must she sound delighted?
"Where?"

"Mr. Moore is at the far corner of the court. He's speaking with Christopher and another I cannot make out. His back is turned to me."

"I shall escort you to his side." Edmund walked slowly beside Kate, hands clasped behind his back, the safest place for them to be. "It seems you have two suitors. The Duke of Doneval appears smitten with your charms."

"Nay! You jest. Pray, leave off, Edmund."

He would for the time. 'Twas difficult to protect a woman who did not understand she needed protection.

"How soon do you mean to leave for Manchester, Kate?"

"In ten days' time."

"When will you tell my aunt?"

"On the morrow.” She raised troubled eyes to his. “'Twill be difficult."

"Then do not tell her. Do not go."

"You knew from the first I must make my own way. You have always known it."

"Aye, but as my aunt's gentlewoman there is no need for you to leave home. Rose Hall is your home. You cannot deny it."

“ ‘Tis
your
home. I have merely been a... visitor."

"Not so. You have ridden Rose Hall's trails and fished in its stream."

"Thanks to you."

Kate and Edmund were within a few feet of the trio of men when Moore spotted them.

"Kate! Lord Stamford, good eve."

Edmund did not like the lecherous light in the barrister's eyes, nor the way James Moore's gaze fixed on Kate.

Carew grinned his greeting. The third man turned and near swept the ground with his low bow.

Edmund felt Kate's hand grasp his arm. He looked to her in alarm as he felt her weight, heard her soft cry. "What is it?"

"I feel faint of a sudden."

Kate wasn't the sort of woman to faint.

"Pray excuse us, gentlemen." Edmund said, and quickly guided Kate to the nearest stone bench.

Moore followed. The barrister's handsome brow wrinkled in a frown of concern.

"Moore, fetch Kate a goblet of wine," Edmund ordered.

As soon as Moore hastened away, Kate pulled Edmund down toward her. "I must retire to my chamber at once," she whispered.

"Why?" A knot the size of a beehive had begun to form in the pit of Edmund's stomach. His head buzzed a warning as well. "What ails you, Kate?"

"The man with Christopher. Who is he?"

" 'Tis one of the queen's most trusted advisers, Henry Stanton."

"Master Stanton is the man who has been following me."

Edmund could not fathom any circumstance in which the queen would order an investigation of a gardener's daughter. "You are mistaken."

"Nay. I remember him now from the queen's ball, and I saw him again clearly at the fair. Henry Stanton is built like a bull."

"You are overtired from the—”

"Nay." She shook her head, dislodging several silky strands that Edmund ached to set right. "Why won't you believe me?"

"No one could conceive you a threat—”

Daggers were neither as sharp nor as deadly as the glare Kate shot Edmund. She stood, assuming a stance as stiff as the blade of a two-handed sword. "I wish to retire."

"Are you strong enough?”

"I shall not faint." She turned.

His arm shot out to hers. "Stay."

Kate regarded his hand with the disdain she might have shown a slug had it the temerity to land on her arm. Chagrined, and wondering where and when she had learned such toplofty airs, Edmund withdrew his hand.

She gazed up at him, her amber eyes cold and distant. "Where is Percy?"

"Safely locked in the stable."

"My thanks."

Tilting her chin and straightening her shoulders, Kate stepped away in a fine physical display of defiance and stubborn pride. Edmund strode ahead and blocked her path.

"Reconsider, Kate. I do not disbelieve you. 'Tis a simple mistake. More than likely the man you saw resembled Stanton."

"I do not mistake the matter." Her lips did not move as she spoke in clipped tones. "Jutta warned me not to trust
anyone."

"Your stargazer includes one of the queen's most valued advisers in her warning? This should prove to you that she is a fraud. You must make your own judgments and decisions, Kate."

"Verily," she sniped, inching her head even higher. "I decide to leave."

She advanced on Edmund, brushing by him, forcing him to stand out of her way. With a rustle of skirts and the enticing scent of lavender in her wake, she was gone.

* * * *

The following afternoon Kate strolled through the rose garden. She snapped dead roses and bent to inhale the fragrance of those in bloom. Roses of York and Lancaster, the lovely eglantine, all abounded in brilliant splashes of crimson, cream, and blushing pink. The beauty of a garden always served to calm her. Edmund had been spending time here of late. She hoped he had at last realized the benefits of a rose garden.

'Twas disconcerting to have her mind spinning in circles. Of late, Kate felt like a stable kitten chasing its tail. Her future presented as much of a quandary as her past. Faced with choices she had never expected, her belly churned. Buffeted about on the winds of change, her mind felt near to numb.

Although Kate had just received the Manchester position, she felt tempted to press the Duke of Doneval. Did he truly require her services as a gentlewoman? Scotland lay as far as one could get from London, from Rose Hall... and from Edmund.

Edmund. Unerring. Usually. But in this matter, Kate was uncertain. Could she have mistaken the identity of Stanton as Edmund suggested? Why, indeed, would one of the queen's advisers be interested in her?

Oh, fie! Life had become so complicated.

"Mistress Kate, lovelier than any of the roses in the garden."

"My lord." She dipped in a curtsy to the Scottish Duke.

"Weel na, do ye mind sitting with an old man?"

"You are not old."

"Me bones dinna know that," he said, brown eyes twinkling as he sat upon one of the small stone benches scattered throughout the rose garden. "They tell me differently."

"Did you pass the night well?"

"Aye. Slept like the dead, I did."

" Tis the country air," Kate declared, sinking down beside the kindly, unpretentious duke.

"True. I live in the country and dinna like to leave it. 'Tis glad I am to return to me estate each time."

"I like the country better than London as well."

" 'Tis good to know." The duke hunched forward, clasping his hands on his knees. "Lass, I have a friend who lives in the country. She is in ill health, and her companion is old. I seek another, younger companion for Anne."

"My lord—"

He cocked his head and raised a hand. "Hear me out. I know a Scot asking a bonny English lass to serve him is rare. But Anne is English, too, ye see. Ye won't be serving me. Think on it. Would ye be interested in living in beautiful Scotland and never wanting for anything your heart desires?"

"My lord, you tempt me. But I have just received notice of a long-awaited position in Manchester. I shall be nurse to three young boys."

The creases of the duke's brow deepened to furrows. "Lass, I will double whatever ye have been offered. Me Anne would benefit from yer company. Ye would bring sunshine into her life."

Kate felt flattered and grateful for the duke's confidence. She liked him. She knew him—unlike the family in Manchester. And she had experience serving as companion to an older woman.

Thrown into an unexpected dilemma, she weighed her options. To go to Manchester or Scotland? Which would serve her needs better? Both places would put distance between her and Edmund. Both places would provide fresh searching ground for information about her ring.

"I shall think on it." She would pay a visit to Jutta this very day.

"Thank ye, lass. Ye'll never have reason for regret. I feel it in me bones. Ye'll be happy with me Anne."

Kate twisted her ring. "I have no doubt, my lord."

The duke glanced down at her ring. "Weel na, is that the ring ye mentioned?”

Percy barked.

Kate started and jumped up from the stone bench.

The bloodhound's bark came from nearby.

She looked toward the entrance to the garden. Edmund stood beneath the arbor holding Percy by the collar. The Earl of Stamford glowered at Kate and the duke.

The trembling began in her knees and swept her body. She did not know what had provoked Edmund's obvious ill humor, but if he unleashed his hound upon her, she would scurry behind Doneval.

She forced a smile. "Good day, Lord Stamford."

He strode toward them. Percy strained to leap forward and pounce upon her. Instead of looking at the beast she feared, Kate chose to keep her eyes on Edmund.

Even with the shimmer of anger rising from his shoulders, he appeared the most dashing of men. Tall and broad, his noble bearing marked him as a man of principle, with the strength of stone and mortar. Like a courageous knight of old, the lustiest of men, Edmund held Kate mesmerized. She fell deeper under his spell with each step he took toward her.

His deep, evergreen eyes locked on hers, sending wave after wave of searing heat throughout her body. In a disturbing state of light-mindedness, Kate became oblivious to Percy. She blocked the kindly duke from her vision.

A melting, tingling sensation consumed her. Only Edmund existed. The soft morning breeze feathered his raven hair, which fell in thick, sleek waves to his shoulders. The deep slash of his linen shirt revealed a delicious glimpse of crisp ebony chest curls. A curious burning began within her. Kate was seized by a sudden, fierce longing to meet Edmund's lips with hers, to feel his sensuous mouth against hers. She dared not move. She could hardly speak for the desire swirling through her.

"Good day," she rasped.

Edmund gave her a curt nod before turning his attention to the Doneval. "Did you pass a comfortable eve?"

"Aye. I couldna feel more at home. I thank ye, Stamford."

Edmund nodded his head brusquely. He appeared angry with the duke for some reason.

She could not conceive that Edmund was one of those Englishmen who despised the Scots for naught. Perhaps the earl's anger was reserved for her.

Oh, fie! She could not think what she might have done now.

Kate dropped her glance, slyly making certain Edmund kept Percy at bay.

The giant, hairy creature sat on its haunches, drooling. Percy's tongue lolled from the side of his mouth, but his gaze never strayed
from
Kate.

"I shall be leaving early on the morrow," the duke said to Edmund.

Edmund did not protest. "As you must."

Donald Cameron would expect Kate's answer before leaving. She had hoped for more time to mull over her choices. Forty-eight hours ago she had no prospects of employment other than as gentlewoman to Lady Cordelia. 'Twas a position she could not keep and hope to avoid Edmund. And avoid him Kate must if she were to keep her increasing desire for the dark-haired, green-eyed earl contained.

It was not the weather that had Kate fanning herself.

Each offer of employment was tempting in its own way. But she could not make up her mind without a visit to Jutta. Lost in her own thoughts, she had heard little of the men's conversation.