The Pawn

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The Pawn Page 9

by Aston, Alexa


  Katelyn hoped she would play no role in his solution. She longed to go to this manor house that was now her property and spend some time in solitude. Though she realized that Landon would take word back to the king regarding the Earl of Northmere’s sudden death, it would take at least a month for him to return and new word to be sent to the far north. Additional time might be required while King Edward decided what was to become of her. Katelyn would relish any time she had alone at her manor house. She resented being used as a pawn by the monarch.

  “Sir Landon, fetch my nephew at once—and not a word about the earl’s death. I will return with Father Gregory. Wife, lock the door and admit no one except us. I do not want the servants to know.” Sir Rafe looked at Katelyn. “My lady, change into what you wore to your wedding.”

  “Why—”

  “Do as I say,” he ordered harshly.

  Katelyn fell quiet after exchanging looks with her brother, waiting for the men to leave. Then she said to Ellyn, “I don’t think I can go back into that room and see my husband like that.” She shuddered. “Please, don’t make me,” she pleaded.

  “I will fetch your clothing.” Ellyn pushed her into a chair and smoothed her hair. “Wait here.”

  Her sister-in-law returned with the requested cotehardie and helped her to dress in it again.

  “Why do you think Sir Rafe wants me to put on my wedding finery?” Katelyn asked as Ellyn pulled the nightgown from her.

  The noblewoman averted her eyes. “Here, let me rebraid your hair. I’ll tell you about the daily routine at Northmere while I do so.”

  Katelyn determined the woman had a good idea as to the answer to the question but chose to let her husband explain. It didn’t matter. Katelyn would absorb any information Ellyn gave her. The more she knew about her surroundings, the better.

  A rap at the door startled them both. Ellyn went to answer it, only cracking the door slightly. When she saw who stood waiting entrance, she admitted four men and placed the latch on the door once more. Bryce looked curiously about the room, while Father Gregory appeared solemn.

  Quickly, Rafe Mandeville explained the situation to the newcomers. The priest gave her a sympathetic glance. Bryce turned aside, covering his mouth, but Katelyn caught the sneer he tried to hide. Once more, she determined not to have any more to do with him. He had shown one face to her on their journey north. Now, he was quite a different man.

  “I’ve decided on the action we should take,” Sir Rafe continued. “The best thing is to stay true to the course that began when the king had Lady Katelyn brought north. King Edward sent his cousin to wed the Earl of Northmere.” He paused. “That is what she will do. Again.”

  “You mean for her to wed the new earl?” Landon asked. “Sir Nicholas?”

  “Aye,” the nobleman confirmed.

  This turn of events surprised her. At least she had the manor house. If she didn’t like this new husband, she would retreat to her property. The Earl of Northmere would still be wed to the king’s cousin. Hopefully, the Scots would be held at bay with this news.

  “I think it best for the riders to bear the news that the Earl of Northmere has married the king’s cousin,” Katelyn said. “Let the Scots hear that and assume what they will. When time has passed, it can be made known which earl.”

  “You speak as if you understand politics, my lady,” Bryce said, his eyes assessing her in a new light.

  She shrugged. “My husband was the earl for many years. The Scots know him and I’m sure they fear him. I know nothing of his son, the new earl, but think it wise to hold back all the facts until a more appropriate time.”

  “Oh, Nicholas is a fierce warrior,” Sir Rafe assured her. “Some might say he is even more clever by half than his father.” He gave her an approving glance. “I do agree with you, though. ’Tis shrewd not to reveal all that we know. Let Nicholas settle into his new role. Then it can be made known he has succeeded his father—and is husband to a member of the king’s family.”

  “Has Sir Nicholas returned?” Katelyn asked. “I overheard Lady Ellyn tell you yesterday that he was called away to help a neighbor with a problem. I noticed several soldiers enter the great hall during the wedding feast and wondered if he might be among them.”

  “Nay, my nephew stayed behind at Ravenwood,” Sir Rafe informed her. “Lord Terald fell ill. Nicholas is close with the baron. One of the soldiers told me that Nicholas would return sometime today.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “I can’t guarantee when he will arrive at Northmere and do not wish for a delay. Father Gregory will marry you and Nicholas now, by proxy. Bryce can stand in for his brother.”

  “That . . . can be done?” she asked, bewildered that she could wed and the groom be missing from the ceremony. “We will truly be wed in the eyes of the Church?”

  “Aye,” Father Gregory assured her. “It happens often within royal families when a pair finds themselves apart and the situation calls for a quick joining together of bride and groom.”

  “Let’s begin, Father,” Sir Rafe urged. “Bryce, come stand next to your future sister-in-law.”

  Katelyn glanced to Landon, who nodded in approval. If she had to wed again, at least it would be to a man much closer to her age this time. Bryce was quite handsome and she hoped his brother, the new earl, might prove pleasing to her eye. Still, anyone had to be better than Lord Cedric. If Nicholas Mandeville would merely show her kindness and be gentle on their wedding night, she would be relieved.

  “Wait,” Landon said. “Katelyn, remove your ring and give it to me.”

  She slipped the silver band from her finger and passed it to her brother. Once more, Katelyn uttered the same vows she had spoken less than a day ago, thinking how odd it was to have married a father and then his son—and to have the other son be the one repeating the vows on his brother’s behalf. She wondered how her new husband might feel when he arrived home, only to find out he was now the Earl of Northmere.

  And a married man.

  *

  Nicholas listened to Lord Terald’s labored breathing as dawn approached. He’d sent Catherine to bed hours ago, promising he would send for her if the earl worsened. He decided now was that time. Leaving the bedchamber, he found the Ravenwood priest and a servant sitting in the solar.

  “Bring Lady Catherine,” he told the servant, who left immediately. To the priest, Nicholas said, “It’s time, Father.”

  Nicholas remained where he was and allowed the priest to go in and hear the earl’s final confession. After a short while, Catherine arrived, her golden hair hanging loose about her shoulders, dark circles under her eyes.

  “Is he . . . oh, I cannot say the words, Nicholas. To lose Favian and now his father so closely together.” She began weeping softly.

  He embraced her, enjoying the feel of her against him, though he knew she would not commit to him until after the birth of her child. Nicholas led her to a seat and entwined his fingers with hers, hoping that would be of some comfort to her.

  Eventually, the priest returned and motioned for them to enter the bedchamber. They did so, each standing on one side of the bed and taking Lord Terald’s hands in theirs. They remained that way until his breathing slowed and then finally stopped. Catherine lifted the old man’s hand and kissed his knuckles tenderly. Nicholas did the same. This nobleman had been more a father to him than his own. He would miss the earl a great deal.

  “I will delay morning mass for a few hours,” the priest said. “I’ll send servants up to ready the body and have the people of Ravenwood informed of their liege lord’s death. That way, all can gather for the funeral mass.”

  Once he left, Nicholas raised the bedclothes over the old man’s face and led Catherine from the room.

  “Why don’t you rest for a few hours?”

  She frowned. “I don’t think I could.”

  “Then I’ll send a servant up with something to break your fast. You need to keep up your strength.”

  Rubbing her belly, s
he said, “This babe is even more important now. I pray every day and night for it to be a boy. I had wanted to present a grandson to Lord Terald, one that resembled Favian.” A tear cascaded down her cheek. “This child could be the heir to Ravensgate.”

  “I know. Come, let’s return to your chamber.”

  Nicholas took her back and had her lie down. As he left, he passed three servants in the corridor. They entered the solar and he supposed they were the ones who would prepare Lord Terald for burial. He went to the kitchen and asked the cook to have something sent up to Lady Catherine. The woman wiped tears from her face, apologizing.

  “No apologies are needed,” he said gently. “Lord Terald was beloved by all his people.”

  Three hours later, Nicholas entered the chapel, Catherine leaning heavily upon him. The building was filled to the brim with workers, servants, and soldiers. He prayed for all of the people of Ravenwood to find solace despite their sorrow and for Catherine to deliver a healthy son come the new year.

  Afterward, he saw her back to the keep.

  “I am reluctant to leave you,” he began.

  “You must, Nicholas,” she said. “You successfully led our men yesterday but your own home has need of you, especially with Lord Cedric and Bryce gone.”

  His kissed her fingers. “I will ride over tomorrow and see how you fare.”

  “All right. If you insist,” she said, her mouth turning up in a small smile.

  Nicholas went to the stables and saddled Sunset. It was already past the noon hour. He took a shortcut through the woods and then galloped across the meadow toward the castle. Waving to the gatekeeper, he gained admittance and took his horse to the stables. He preferred rubbing down his mount rather than leaving it for a stable hand to do. He gave Sunset more than his usual amount of oats and left the stall.

  As he walked toward the entrance, he paused. A woman stood in front of the stall that housed his father’s horse, one he’d never seen before. Her cotehardie was of the finest silk, something that he might have seen worn by a lady at the royal court. She had hair as black as night and a tall, willowy figure that included small, rounded breasts and a tiny waist. Nicholas approached her and she dropped her hand from the horse’s neck and turned.

  He halted in his tracks. The woman was young, probably under a score, and the most beautiful female he’d laid eyes upon. She had startling green eyes and milky white skin. Her rosebud mouth tempted him more than he cared to admit.

  “Are you Sir Nicholas Mandeville?” she asked, curiosity written across her delicate features.

  “I am, my lady, but you have me at a disadvantage for I know not who you might be,” he replied.

  She worried her full, bottom lip a moment and a wave of lust rushed through him. He longed to sink his teeth into it.

  The woman sighed. “I must inform you that your father is dead, my lord. You are the new Earl of Northmere.

  “And I am your wife.”

  Chapter Nine

  Nicholas’ jaw dropped. He was too stunned to speak.

  “I am sorry to break such news to you. I know Lord Cedric’s death was unexpected.”

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  She gave him a sympathetic look. “I am sorry for your loss, my lord.” She looked around and pointed. “There’s an empty stall down the way. I sat in it thinking for a long time just now. It would give us privacy for me to tell you everything that has occurred in recent days.” Pausing, she added, “I would rather you hear this from my lips. I am finding that others have their own way of viewing events and interpret them differently than I might. Let me share with you what I know and my role in matters before you speak to your uncle or anyone else.”

  Whoever this noblewoman was, she was savvy.

  “I agree,” he told her and started for the vacant stall.

  When he realized she didn’t follow, Nicholas turned and saw her stroke the nose of his Father’s horse. It surprised him since it was common knowledge that Lord Cedric’s mounts were known for being disagreeable in general. This stranger must have been around Midnight enough to win him over. That made Nicholas believe that she had met his father at Windsor and they’d traveled north together.

  Softly, she said, “I know you will be sad about your master’s fate, Midnight, but Lord Nicholas will find a new man to ride you. He will treat you well and you will come to trust him.”

  The young woman kissed the horse then, a sweet gesture that touched Nicholas’ heart. Turning away, she caught up to him and led him to the stall she spoke of. They entered and she bent to sit in the hay. He took her elbow and grasped her hand in order to ease her to the ground.

  Something occurred from the moment he touched her. Nicholas could see she, too, was affected by it, a puzzled look in her eyes. He glanced down at their joined hands and sensed it was right in a way he couldn’t understand. Warmth filled him, along with a feeling that he wished to protect this woman.

  Lowering her to the hay, he sat next to her and waited for her to speak.

  “I am Katelyn de Blays, my lord, daughter of Lord Adelard de Blays, former Earl of Blackwell.”

  Her words confused him. “How could your father be a former earl? Unless . . .” His voice trailed off in understanding.

  “Aye. My father was accused of treason though I cannot see how. To me and my brother, Landon, he was always good and kind. He placed me in the saddle in front of him before I could walk and we would ride Blackwell together and visit with our tenants. I was only five when he was seized and executed but my heart tells me the full story will never be known.”

  Sympathy for Lady Katelyn filled him. A traitor got off easily, quickly losing his life. It was the family which remained behind that usually suffered the consequences.

  “What happened to you and your brother?” he asked, observing the noblewoman had a sense of calm about her.

  “Landon was six when he was taken to London with my father. He was mistreated by the king and rescued by Prince Edward, who now wears the crown. Landon has been with the king all these years and is a member of his royal guard.”

  Nicholas nodded. “I have heard of Landon de Blays and how his battlefield heroics earned him his knighthood at a tender age.”

  “My brother searched for me for years and found me recently at the Convent of the Charitable Sisters.”

  He found himself dumbfounded. “You were a nun?”

  She laughed. “I am as far from a nun as you will find, my lord. I am tolerant and kind to others. I enjoy being with people and think laughter is good for the soul.” She grew quiet a moment. “I am grateful my brother rescued me.”

  “The nuns were unkind to you?” Nicholas asked.

  “If you call beating and starving me unkind, then I would agree they were.”

  His heart ached for this beautiful creature being treated so cruelly.

  “Oh, I see pity in your eyes, Lord Nicholas. I don’t deserve it. What happened to me only made me stronger.”

  “Where did your brother take you once he discovered your whereabouts?”

  “To Windsor Castle. I was there a week in the queen’s household as everyone surrounding me tried their best to turn me into a proper lady.”

  He heard the humor laced in her voice. “And did they succeed, Lady Katelyn?”

  “We’ll have to see, won’t we, my lord?” she countered.

  Nicholas enjoyed the way her eyes sparkled. They practically danced with mischief now. In fact, he was enjoying this unusual encounter more than any other he’d had.

  “The king sent me north,” she continued. “I was to wed the Earl of Northmere when we arrived. I did so yesterday. After our wedding night, I awoke this morning to find my husband had passed on during the night.”

  Without thinking, he took her hand. “I am so sorry,” he murmured. “But you would not be my wife, Lady Katelyn, merely because I am the new earl. You are now the dowager countess.” He thought a moment. “If you would like, you could stay at a mano
r house at Northmere in order to have time to grieve your loss.”

  She pulled her hand from his and, for a moment, Nicholas felt bereft.

  “That manor house belongs to me, my lord. ’Twas part of the marriage contract. As far as grief? I’d barely spoken to your father. I have no plans to grieve for a stranger.”

  “I see.”

  Nicholas wondered why she thought she was now married to him. Obviously, the good sisters hadn’t instructed her on social customs if she thought she was still a countess, only now wed to the new earl. He needed to tell this woman that he couldn’t marry her but it would be hard to do. Already, he was taken by her beauty and sweet disposition. She also possessed an air that spoke to the inner strength she’d referred to. He couldn’t imagine the childhood she’d gone through at the nunnery, losing her family at such a young age and then suffering at the hands of the nuns.

  “I am afraid you did not become my wife merely because I am the new earl.” He paused. “I cannot marry you, Lady Katelyn, though you seem to possess many good qualities.”

  She frowned. “You are already betrothed?”

  “Nay, my betrothed died several years ago. I do have someone I have offered marriage to, though.”

  Lady Katelyn gave him a sad look. “Do you love this woman?” she asked softly.

  Nicholas shook his head. “We are friends. I like her a great deal. Mayhap when we wed, we might grow to love one another someday.”

  She crossed her arms, hugging herself tightly. “I am so sorry, my lord. You’ll have to tell this sweetheart that you cannot marry her. Your uncle has already made the decision for you. Riders were sent out this morning, spreading the news that the Earl of Northmere had married the king’s cousin and that King Edward had sent an influx of new troops to Northmere to bolster the castle’s defense against the Scots.”

  Of course, his uncle would have wanted such word to get out as quickly as possible. Lady Katelyn revealing that she was a cousin to the king would make a firm statement of the king’s support of his northern lands.

 

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