The Pawn

by Aston, Alexa

  Bethany nodded enthusiastically.

  “Play with each of them,” Catherine suggested. “I think you’ll know after you do so which one is right for you.” She moved from the stall and closed the half-door so no kittens followed her.

  “How are you today, Nicholas?” she asked pleasantly.

  He studied her, noting she looked paler than usual and had dark circles beneath her blue eyes. “Better yet, how are you?”

  She shrugged, her eyes revealing for a moment the constant pain she hid from the world. “Some days are better than others. Having this litter of kittens has helped. I come down here and watch them play and it takes my mind off things for a while.”

  “Catherine, I want to speak with you,” he began.

  She laughed. “I thought that’s what we were doing, my lord,” she teased.

  Nicholas liked hearing her laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard her do so. He took her hand and heard her quick intake of breath. Sudden understanding flickered in her eyes.

  “Nicholas, I—”

  “Hear me out, Catherine.” He swallowed, harnessing his courage. He was usually a man of action, not words. “You know I think the world of you and I know how happy you made Favian. Your welfare was on his mind in those last moments. He loved you very, very much.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “As I did him.”

  “Favian asked me to look after you.” Nicholas cleared his throat. “I can think of no better way to offer my protection to you than to have us marry. I have no betrothed. I thought to talk this over with you first. If you agree, then I will speak to my father. We can wed as soon as you wish.” He paused. “If you wish to do so.”

  She closed her eyes a moment and then opened them. “I thank you for such a kind offer, Nicholas, but I don’t know if I’ll ever choose to marry again.”

  He squeezed her hand. “I understand that you loved Favian. That he would be the only man you would ever love. But I do think we would suit, Catherine. I would be the best husband I could be to you.”

  She gave him a gentle smile. “I know you would, Nicholas. And that is why you should wed someone else, a woman who will appreciate all the gifts you have to offer.” She hesitated. “Besides, I am not able to consider your proposal at this time.”

  Her free hand went to her belly, her fingers spreading wide. He understood immediately.

  “You are with child. Favian’s child. I’m so pleased,” he said sincerely. “I promise I would love this babe as much as I did him. ’Twould be an honor to help raise his son. Or daughter.”

  “If I birth a son, he will be the heir to the Ravensgate earldom,” Catherine reminded him. “I owe it to Lord Terald to wait and see if I carry a son. If I do, I would wish to remain at Ravenwood with my boy. If it’s a daughter, though?” She smiled wistfully. “I would consider your offer to wed.”

  “Then we will await the outcome,” Nicholas told her. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers tenderly.

  Chapter Three

  “Bethany, you need to thank Catherine for giving you the kitten,” Nicholas urged as his sister danced around, a gray and white fur ball in her arms.

  She froze and looked at Catherine. “Thank you. For Kit.”

  Catherine smoothed the young girl’s hair. “Is that what you’ve decided to name her? Kit?”

  Bethany’s head bobbed up and down. She brushed her nose against the kitten’s head.

  “That’s a very good name,” Nicholas assured his sister. “But ’tis time we were off.”

  Bethany leaned into Catherine, who gave the girl a brief hug. “Come back whenever you like. Better yet, I may need to come to Northmere soon and see how Kit has settled in,” she suggested.

  Bethany nodded enthusiastically and looked to Nicholas.

  “Catherine and all of the Savills are always welcomed at Northmere,” he said. Nicholas gave Catherine a smile. “Thank you for the gift of the kitten. She will be a good companion for Bethany.”

  He mounted Sunset and gestured for his sister to come closer. Lifting her, he said, “You’d best leave the reins to me on our return home so that you can keep Kit safe.”

  Bethany settled against him, cradling her new friend. Nicholas waved farewell to Catherine and they rode back to Northmere at a much slower pace so as not to jar the kitten unnecessarily. When they arrived, he dropped Bethany at the keep.

  Mary awaited them, sitting at the bottom of the stairs. She rose.

  “Lookit what you have, Lady Bethany,” she exclaimed. “Why, it’s a beautiful little rabbit!”

  Bethany shook her head. “Kit. My kitten.”

  “My, that’s a smart name for a kitten, one I won’t be soon forgetting. Come along, my lady. We’ll get a bowl of warm milk for Kit and I’ll show you the little bed I’ve made for it.”

  Bethany’s lip stuck out stubbornly. “Her. Kit’s a her.”

  “Ah,” Mary said wisely, “a little lady for a little lady. Very good. Now, come with me.”

  Nicholas watched them ascend the stairs to the keep, knowing they were blessed to have a servant as kind and patient as Mary. She’d been the girl’s companion the last dozen years and loved her as one of her own.

  He trotted to the stables and rubbed Sunset down then brushed the horse’s dark golden coat. He’d named him for that time of day where the yellow of the sun went gold, mixed with bits of red and orange since it reminded him of the horse’s coat. Where Devil had nipped at anyone who came near, Sunset was by far the friendliest and best-tempered horse he’d ever known.

  Nicholas left the stables and headed toward the training yard, hoping to catch his father. Even though Catherine had put the idea of a wedding between them on hold, he believed he should inform his father of where things stood. Arriving at the training yard, only their captain of the guard stood on the platform.

  Spying him, Uncle Rafe motioned Nicholas over. He joined the knight on the platform and surveyed the exercises. The knight had their soldiers working with maces at the moment. Bryce was nowhere to be seen.

  “I was looking for my father.”

  “Cedric was called back to the keep not long ago,” Rafe said. “A messenger arrived from the king.”

  Nicholas nodded grimly. King Edward had been in constant contact with Northmere, due to its proximity to the Scottish border. He wondered what the king had to say. More than likely, it would be news of further action against the Scots.

  “I think I’ll seek him out and discover what the king had to say.”

  Nicholas excused himself and headed for the keep. He went directly to the solar, knowing his father would want privacy not only to read the missive but to contemplate any reply he sent back to the royal court.

  Knocking at the door, he heard his father’s gruff voice bid him to enter. Nicholas did and found Lord Cedric seated at the table, a parchment unrolled before him.

  “I hear the king has sent word to you.”

  “Aye. I am needed at Windsor.”

  “Do you wish me to accompany you?” Nicholas asked, not wanting to go but responding as a dutiful son. He’d only been to Windsor once and never to London, finding the trappings of the royal court not to his liking.

  “Thank you, but you are needed here more. I trust you to keep Northmere and its people safe while I am gone.”

  “Do you know how long you will be away?”

  “Hopefully, it will be only for a short while. Mayhap I will take Bryce with me, though. ’Twould be good experience for him,” Lord Cedric noted.

  “As you wish, Father.” Nicholas kept his voice neutral but he was delighted that his brother would be gone from Northmere for any period of time. Not only would his absence bring relief to Nicholas but Bethany would enjoy having more freedom. She limited where she went inside the keep and on the castle grounds whenever Bryce was in residence.

  He decided not to broach the topic of wedding Lady Catherine Savill at this point. The widow would not give birth for probab
ly another six months. His father would return long before that, giving them plenty of time to discuss a marriage between the two of them. Nicholas also knew that his father’s mind was already on his upcoming trip to court. While Edward had proved to be a good ruler and kind to his people, Nicholas had witnessed how mercurial the king’s moods could be. Lord Cedric would already be preparing himself for his meeting with the king and wouldn’t be happy about other matters drawing his attention away from his upcoming visit to court.

  “When will you leave?”

  “At daybreak tomorrow. I’ll speak to Rafe and choose a guard to accompany me to Windsor. Would you find Bryce and inform him of my decision to have him come along?”

  “Of course.”

  Nicholas left the solar, having no clue where Bryce might be. He hadn’t been present in the training yard, though he should have been. Nicholas knocked on the door to his brother’s bedchamber, wondering if he might have retired there if unwell.

  Through the heavy door, he heard a muffled giggle.

  Nicholas rapped again. “Bryce, I must speak with you at once.” He didn’t bother to disguise his impatience.

  Raising his hand to knock a third time, the door suddenly swung open. Bryce stood there, not a stitch on, no shame on his face.

  “You have need of me, Brother?” he drawled.

  Nicholas brushed past him and said, “Get rid of the wench.”

  A woman he recognized as one of their groomsmen’s wives sat up, her hands covering her bare breasts and her eyes wide.

  Reaching for the smock on the floor, he tossed it to her. “Dress and leave.” Nicholas turned his back and faced Bryce once again, disgusted by his brother.

  The woman scurried by him, scooping up her shoes as she went. She brushed by Bryce without looking at him but he grabbed her arm and jerked her back. He kissed her hard and then shoved her away, patting her rear as she fled the room.

  Nicholas contained his anger. He knew Bryce enjoyed seeing him riled and refused to rise to the bait.

  His brother strolled to the bed and sat, not bothering to clothe himself. Nicholas gritted his teeth and sat in a chair.

  “You need to prepare yourself to leave at dawn. You will accompany Father to Windsor Castle.”

  Bryce’s eyes lit with interest. “Why does Father go to dance attendance upon the king?”

  Nicholas wanted to slap his brother for being insolent. “Refrain from speaking in that manner when you are around Father—and especially when you arrive at court. Whether you realize it or not, spies are everywhere. Show that lack of respect and you might find yourself stretched upon the rack in a dank dungeon.”

  His brother shuddered. “I meant no harm.”

  “Whether you did or not, take heed, Bryce. We all are at the mercy of the king. Edward has been good to our family and very supportive during these trying times involving the Scots. Do nothing that might make him turn away from us. Watch your speech and actions every minute. Anything you say or do reflects not only on you but on Father and the Mandeville name.”

  “Will you go with us?”

  “Nay. Father asked for you to be his companion.”

  Bryce leaned back, a cocky grin on his face. “Mayhap I will find a rich bride while we are at Windsor. Or a pretty widow to—”

  “Enough!” Nicholas roared. “You are to remain by Father’s side at all times. Say nothing. Instead, learn from what goes on around you and stop thinking with your cock.” He rose. “’Tis a privilege for you to accompany Father. Take advantage of this opportunity.”

  Nicholas left his brother’s presence. He could only pray that Bryce did nothing foolish to embarrass the Mandeville name or anger the king or one of his advisers. Though a score and three, Bryce acted more like ten and three. Sometimes, Nicholas thought Bethany possessed more sense than his brother.

  To calm himself, he went to Bethany’s bedchamber and tapped on the door. Mary answered right away and ushered him in.

  “She’s a happy one, my lord, especially now that Kit’s here,” Mary confided. “I’ve never seen Lady Bethany have more fun. ’Twas a smart thing you did, bringing Kit home for her.”

  Nicholas went and sat on the ground where Bethany played with the kitten. He reached inside his gypon and pulled out a length of yarn that Catherine had given him.

  “I brought a present for Kit,” he said.

  Bethany cocked her head, staring at the yarn. “What?”

  “You let Kit chase after it,” Nicholas explained. “Like this.”

  He uncurled the string and dragged it across the floor twice. Kit froze, watching the yarn slide across the floor. Then she pounced on it.

  “You pull on it gently,” Nicholas said as he tugged it.

  Kit placed her paw atop it, only to see it slide from under her. She trapped it with her paw again, only to have Nicholas pull it away. He waved it several times, allowing her to chase it, then raised it in the air and let it tease Kit. The kitten danced under the swaying string, slapping it with her paw, then jumping and biting it.

  “I do!” cried Bethany.

  He relinquished the yarn to her care and watched as she played with her new pet. He didn’t know who showed more delight, his sister or Kit, as they worked the yarn between them. Slowly, the tension that had built within him from his meeting with Bryce dissipated.

  Bethany gave the yarn to Kit and scooted close to him. She threw her arms around his neck.

  “Love you.”

  He enfolded her. “I love you, too, Bethany.”

  “And Kit,” his sister added.

  Nicholas chuckled. “And Kit,” he seconded.

  The kitten scampered over, the yarn in her mouth, and dropped it in front of them. They took turns teasing the kitten with it. The fur ball never seemed to tire of the game.

  A warm feeling enveloped Nicholas. Someday, Catherine might be here with them, playing with Bethany and Kit.

  And their children.

  He meant what he’d told Catherine. He would love any babe she birthed because it would give him a bit of Favian back. Nicholas understood now why his friend had been so taken with his wife. Catherine was intelligent and kind, not to mention her tremendous beauty. The oval face, penetrating blue eyes, and golden curls proved very pleasing to his eye. If she agreed to wed him, he looked forward to bedding her. She would make a winsome companion and excellent mother. Northmere needed a woman’s touch, especially since his mother had been gone so long.

  Nicholas hoped Catherine Savill would be that woman.

  Chapter Four

  Essex countryside

  Katelyn stretched her aching muscles, walking around the camp as the half-dozen soldiers accompanying Landon busied themselves. Already, two men had collected wood and started a fire while another two hunted for food. The remaining soldiers cared for the horses, watering them at a brook and removing their saddles. She found herself drawn to the horses, inhaling deeply and enjoying the combined scents of leather saddles and horseflesh. The men hobbled the horses, one giving her a brief nod as she passed.

  They had traveled all day with only a single stop to relieve themselves and move about. Katelyn knew she would be sore in places tomorrow that she hadn’t known existed but any discomfort was worth the price of freedom. No more convent, with its judgmental nuns and oppressive rules. Years ago, she had separated the woman she remembered as her mother from the convent’s abbess. In her heart, Katelyn knew she wouldn’t miss the tyrannical nun who ruled the Convent of the Charitable Sisters with an iron fist for she had no love for that person. The faint memories of Lady Sybil de Blays had been supplanted by Mother Acelina. The convent’s leader meant nothing to her. As far as Katelyn was concerned, from now on Mother Acelina was as dead to her as Lady Sybil.

  Especially after learning the woman had planned to barter Katelyn for what she truly wanted.

  She circled around a final time and watched Landon for a moment. He studied a map of the area. Her brother had grown tall, his body
lean yet muscular. He possessed the same jet black hair and vivid green eyes as she did. Katelyn only knew this from the one time she’d had access to a mirror. One of the oblates had brought it with her. Katelyn helped the young girl unpack her meager belongings and came across it. She’d stared at her image in wonder, seeing herself for the first and only time. It triggered memories of her father’s eyes, which she remembered from when he held her on his lap and told her stories. The ever-vigilant Sister Martha had come along and ripped the hand mirror from Katelyn’s fingers, throwing it across the room. The fragile glass had hit the stone wall and shattered into pieces. The nun berated Katelyn for her vanity as she collected every fragment and took them away.

  Still, it had finally given Katelyn an idea what she looked like to others. And now, seeing Landon, she realized how closely they resembled one another.

  They hadn’t been able to speak as they rode west toward London. That was the only information Landon imparted before he drew her up into the saddle. She was curious about what had happened to him in the years they’d been apart. Obviously, he had done well. His armor gleamed in the sunlight and fit him well, as if it had been tailored to his body. He possessed an air of confidence. The men seemed relaxed around him yet looked to him attentively as he’d given orders.

  Determined to learn more, she marched toward him.

  “Do you have time to sit and speak with me, Landon?”

  He folded the map and set it aside. Giving her a winning smile, he led her to a fallen log and they sat.

  “What would you like to know?”

  “Everything. Start with that night the king’s men came.”

  Her brother’s rich laugh triggered other memories.

  “I can see you holding up a large fish, smiling and laughing as you do now.”

  Landon nodded. “I recall that day. That was the last time I fished.” He frowned. “It seems a long time ago.”

  “Talk to me. What have you been doing since I last saw you? Is it true that we go to court and the king really wants to see me? That we are related to him? What is his name?”