Through The Leaded Glass (14 page)

Fine. Whatever. She just wanted out of here.
Now. “Sure. Fine. Whatever. Now what do we do?”

A muscled ticked in his cheek while he studied
her. Heat still ran through her veins, but she willed, no,
begged
, it to dissipate.

Had they really just done that? Against a
wall?

“
Now we prepare for the feast,” he
said finally.

So it was to be business as usual. Well, what
had she expected? Declarations of undying love?

She might believe in time travel now, but
fairy tales were still off the table.

“
Still on that train of thought,
are you? Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She brushed some
hair off her face, relieved to find her hand steady. “And don’t
think you’re going to get a repeat of
that
.” She gestured
toward the wall.

A wall. It’d be so hot if it hadn’t been,
well…

Yeah, it’d been hot. At least while she’d been
in the moment. Now? It was chilling.

“
Trust me, Kate.” His voice was
annoyingly composed. “
That
is the last thing I
want.”

***

Alex walked away. He wanted to run, but that’d
be too revealing.

He ran a hand through his hair, reminded of
what it’d felt like to have her hands there, gripping the strands
until it’d almost hurt. But then she’d come and her grip had
relaxed.

And then he’d come.

Alex exhaled. He’d lost himself like some
green boy with his first woman—and that hadn’t happened even when
he’d
been
a green boy. What had come over him?

He knew, and wasn’t proud of his behavior. But
she’d questioned his word then threw yesterday’s kiss at him as if
she hadn’t enjoyed it. A man’s pride could only take so
much.

He hadn’t counted on what kissing her again
would do to him. He’d loved Jeanne, but he’d never felt with her
what he felt with Kate—as if touching her was as vital as
breathing.

He couldn’t feel this way about a woman.
This
woman. It opened the door to pain. He lost too much
when he cared: his wife, his son, his mother, a brother.

And now his only child was at risk and all he
could think of was making love to Kate when what he should be doing
was finding the threat to his family, Kate’s window, and someone to
bear his children.

Someone other than Kate.

***

Thank God for the stupid feast. Kate hadn’t
been able to concentrate on much of anything since their little
wall incident
and Alex’s subsequent rejection.

How could he? He’d come; she knew he had. But
what man says “damn” afterwards?

Only the two she’d been with in the last eight
years. Though, she hadn’t really
been
with Alex.

And now she definitely wouldn’t be. Her ego
could only take so much.

She tore off a piece of warm crusty bread and
slathered it in butter while platters of fish and fowl were laid
before the sea of people in the hall. Wine and mead were passed
continuously, the whole festive atmosphere making it easy for her
to ignore Alex.

At least in theory.

One that was shot to hell when he stormed to
his feet beside her.

“
Isobel.”

And called out another woman’s name. Joy. She
was really batting a thousand these days.

Then Kate saw the woman entering the
hall.

Ah. Isobel. And of course, she was
beautiful.

He probably wouldn’t curse when he’d slammed
her
up against a wall.

“
Your
Isobel?” Kate couldn’t
keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

“
Kate, mind your words. She’s not
mine.” Alex’s voice was loud enough for everyone to hear. “Nor have
I asked for her.”

“
But you had that intention, did
you not, Alexander?” The woman in question swept up to them with an
air of regal self-importance, fluttering a fan and looking down her
nose at everyone at the table with slate blue eyes in a perfect
English “peaches and cream” complexion. Her coloring was enhanced
by the beautiful blue dress strung with ropes of pearls and the
matching headdress. She even had a beauty mark by her
mouth.

Definitely not the wall-slamming type. For
that, Kate had to smile. The woman looked way too tightly wound—as
was proven with her clipped speech and impeccable manners. Well, if
you called showing up in a former fiancé’s house unannounced
impeccable.

“
Come, darling.” Isobel extended
her hand to Alex, and Kate could see where that voice might be a
detriment. It grated like swords on a chalkboard. “Let us forget
this nonsense.”

Alex gripped the table. “Lady Marston, may I
present my betrothed, Lady Katherine Lawton.”

Isobel didn’t even glance her way.
“Alexander—”

Alex drew Kate to her feet. “Come, my lady. It
appears our guest wishes a private audience.”

This ought to be interesting.

Alex led them to a corridor beyond the hall.
Isobel smoothed a hand over her headdress, pointedly ignoring Kate.
“Honestly, Alexander, you mustn’t allow a misunderstanding to
disrupt our marriage plans.” She dropped her fan onto a small table
and brushed an invisible speck from her sleeve as if it were the
most important thing in her world and the conversation with Alex
simply a nuisance.

“
Isobel, marriage was never
promised between us.”

Huh? Alex had made it seem like it was a done
deal.

“
Oh, Alexander, come now. Everyone
knows of it. Who else would either one of us marry? You have need
of a wife, I a husband, our lands adjoin… Everyone thinks
so.”

The court of common opinion was a novel way to
get engaged. Though not out of the ordinary; it was the reason Kate
now found herself in that same predicament.

“
Everyone but me perhaps,” Alex
said. “Especially since I am betrothed to Kate.”

“
Oh,
pish
. I’m certain if
you make a large donation to her convent the girl will be allowed
to return. I won’t hold this
rashness
against you.” Isobel
looked up. “But you are a knave for parading this woman about the
village with your ring after you have all but asked me to wed
you.”

Kate tapped her shoe. If she could find the
damn window, she could get out of here before Alex turned the woman
away entirely. Apparently, Isobel did want him enough to be second
best, so who was Kate to wonder why? Alex was a decent catch, if
one liked the whole, I-am-the-master-and-you-will-do-my-bidding
thing.

And, of course, wall episodes.

She shivered. She’d liked that wall episode,
dammit.

She tugged on Alex’s sleeve. “Maybe you should
listen to her,” she whispered. “You’re still going to have to marry
someone when I leave. Maybe—”

Alex glared at her. “Enough, Kate,” he
whispered. “I can’t make a promise to Isobel when I am promised to
you. If you recall, our betrothal came about to find the
thief—that’s more important than securing her as a wife.” He turned
to Isobel. “Isobel, I never ‘all but asked’ you to wed. You go too
far. I’ll not be threatened by any woman. You’ll do well to
remember that. Nor will I do ‘what everyone knows’ simply because
you desire it.”

“
But… the king. He gave you
dispensation—”

“
To pick a woman of my
choosing.”

Isobel finally looked at Kate. “You… I will
not… This is…” Isobel yanked her fan off the table, fluttering it
like a butterfly gone crazed. “The king shall hear about this. He
desires our lands aligned. To spurn me is to deny his wishes. You
can’t do this, Alexander.”

“
Lower your voice, Isobel. I don’t
care to have my honor questioned before my people. Henry granted me
my choice. Whatever beliefs you have of an arrangement between us
are your own. I chose Kate. I suggest you recognize it, for this
scene is not well done of you.”

“
But if it’s not you, the king will
send me to Wexham.” She stilled her fluttering fan, its stillness
highlighting her concern as clearly as the tears in her
eyes.

And, of course, she looked beautiful all
teary-eyed.

Kate wanted to hate her, but couldn’t. The
woman’s life was dictated by the times in which she lived and, for
that, Kate had to feel sorry for her.

“
I can’t do it, Alexander, I simply
can’t. The man is a fiend. All three wives—
three
—have met
with mishaps. You must honor my wishes in this, for you don’t
understand—”

“
Ah, ‘tis the fair Lady Marston,
come to bless us with drama.” Nick ran into the corridor from the
great hall, stopping when the three of them turned his way. “What
say you, my lady? Haven’t you had enough accolades today? I’d
regale you with more if our earlier conversations aren’t
enough.”

Isobel threw her fan at him. “You, sirrah,
have no permission to speak to me in such a manner.” She waved her
hand, her voice tight. “Begone.”

It sounded like a Shakespearean tragedy. Or
comedy. Kate had a hard time deciding which, but the undercurrents
zinging between the three of them kept her from laughing. As did
the news of this Wexham guy. He and King Richard seemed to get
pretty lucky with “mishaps” for those in their way. And then, of
course, there was the next king to look forward to. Followed by
Bloody Mary.

Yeah, she needed to go home. Everyone would be
better off if she did.

“
Now, now, my lady.” Nick swaggered
toward Isobel with a cocky grin and his hand across his heart. “You
do me irreparable harm when you reject me in such a manner. Come
heal my bruised and battered soul. Let us adjourn so that I may beg
your forgiveness for any offense I have given.”

“
Your very presence offends me,
sir.” She turned her back, only to be spun around to face him when
he reached her.

Nick kept the smile on his face, but Kate
could read the hardness in his eyes from where she
stood.

“
Think, Isobel,” he growled. “If
you wish to leave the hall with even a semblance of pride, take my
offer and I’ll whisk you away from this humiliation.”

Thank goodness intelligence won out. Isobel
dropped her shoulders, looked at Kate, then Alex, one tear tracking
down her cheek, and straightened her shoulders. “Very well, Lord
Caversham, you may make amends.”

A look passed between Nick and Alex as they
passed.

***

“
What’s the story with you and
Nick?”

Alex had to lean toward Kate to hear her
whisper when they were back at the table. He took a long swallow of
his ale. “Story?”

“
Yes. I’d think you marrying the
woman he loves would be motive enough to be your thief.”

Alex choked. “Isobel? Nick?”

“
You didn’t know? God, men can be
so obtuse sometimes,” she muttered. “Yes, Isobel. He’s trailing
after her like a lovesick puppy. And you, his best friend, were
planning to marry her. Makes sense he’d be p-o’d at you. Ergo, he
could be the one.”

Alex gripped his knife and speared a piece of
duck. Nick loved Isobel? Kate had lost her senses—although Nick
had
grown quiet over the last few weeks whenever he’d
mentioned the betrothal.

But Nick wouldn’t steal his ring. They were
friends. Had been for years. No, Kate had to be wrong, for surely
Nick would have said something if he’d wanted Isobel.

Someone stormed through the entrance to the
hall. “Shelton!”

God’s blood. Another mess he did not want to
deal with. He’d have to double the guards on his hall from now
on.

“
Who’s that?” Kate
asked.

“
Farley.”

“
You go too far, Shelton.” Farley
strode to the where he and Kate sat, and planted his hands on the
table. “The king shall learn of this. And then you’ll
pay.”

Alex clenched the hilt of his knife. “I don’t
know what you’re speaking of, Farley, but I’d suggest you leave
these premises with your threats before I give my men permission to
tear you apart.” He speared a poached pear, wishing it were
Farley’s head instead. He should have killed him in the lists so
he’d be free of Farley’s complaints and ever-present
challenges.

“
Your friendship with Henry will
not serve you now.” Farley pulled Alex’s trencher away.

Silence enveloped the room.

Alex stabbed his knife into the table and
stood. “You wish to die, Simon? I know of no other reason for you
to storm my home, threaten me, and steal from my table.” He pulled
the trencher back. “That was not wise. I should have killed you
when I had the chance.”

“
What was not wise, Alex, was to
steal from me.”

“
You accuse me of it at every
match. I won the joust. Accept that and leave my home.” He sat back
in his chair. The man really was a nuisance. Next time he’d kill
him.