by Aston, Alexa
Reaching the corner, she turned it and continued, doing the same again until she reached the back of the house. In the shadows, she made out two horses.
“Lady Katelyn?” a voice whispered.
“I’m here, Henfrey,” she reassured him as he approached.
“Dawn will be here soon,” he said, “though I smell rain in the air.”
“Help me into the saddle. We’ll walk our horses until we are a good distance from the manor.”
“Are you sure—”
“I am. And I will go with or without you.”
“Then I am with you,” he said resolutely. “Two men are to our right but they are engaged in conversation. We’ll head directly away from the manor and then curve around to stay out of their sight.”
They walked their horses until the manor house was a good distance away and then Katelyn motioned to Henfrey to pick up the pace. As light began to creep above the horizon and thunder echoed in the skies, they broke into a canter. Once they could see better, she would have them gallop.
A whizzing noise pierced the air and Henfrey grunted. He fell from his horse. Katelyn pulled up on her reins and threw herself to the ground. She ran to where he lay and saw an arrow protruded from his shoulder.
“Henfrey!”
His pain-filled eyes met hers. “Run.”
Katelyn jumped to her feet and lifted her skirts, hoping she could reach Ebony in time to escape. As she ran, she heard horses galloping toward her. She managed to get her foot into the stirrup as two horses were upon her. Before Katelyn could cry out, one of the riders leaned down and scooped her up, tossing her face down in front of him. She couldn’t catch her breath to scream as she bumped along.
They rode for a few minutes as the heavens opened and rain came pouring down. Then the horse below her came to a halt. Hands gripped her waist, bringing her to the ground and spinning her about. A red-bearded man grinned as she gasped for air.
“Bind the lass, Alec. Quickly,” the stranger said. “Our waiting has finally paid off.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Nicholas awoke and stretched lazily, a feeling of satisfaction blanketing him. His tongue felt thick, as if he’d imbibed too much strong drink the night before. At least the constant pressure no longer held in head in a vise. No pounding remained. He almost felt like his old self.
He’d dreamed of Kate. Not just dreamed of her—but dreamed he’d finally had her. His fingers remembered stroking the smooth, rounded buttocks and silky hair. He licked his lips and almost tasted her. He inhaled deeply.
Vanilla.
The scent seemed to surround him. He turned his face toward the pillow and smelled it. Pressed his fingers to his nose and took a deep breath.
She had been here. It hadn’t been a dream.
Nicholas remembered thrusting into her, over and over.
“Nay!” he cried aloud.
Throwing back the bedclothes, he jumped from the bed and froze. Light came through the small slit in the wall.
Light!
He stumbled, reaching out to the table next to the bed to locate a candle. His fingers grasped one and he forced himself to tread slowly toward the fireplace, where he could see embers smoldering. Pushing the wick into them, the candle lit and flickered. Nicholas held it up, entranced by the fire’s beauty.
“I can see,” he said reverently, knowing he would never take his sight for granted again.
He held a hand out in front of him, counting all five fingers. Turning, he looked about the solar and saw furniture. Nicholas fell to his knees and offered a prayer of Thanksgiving to the Virgin. No longer would he be helpless. Dependent on others.
Had his joining with Kate turned the tide?
Oh, she was a wicked one, sliding into his bed in the wee hours and coupling with him. For a moment, disappointment flooded him as only bits and pieces came to him. It was if their love play had occurred in a fog. He could only remember parts of it. Nicholas had wanted their first time together to be special. He’d wanted to gaze into her eyes as he entered her, their fingers entwined, and see how she reacted.
He told himself it didn’t matter. There would be no annulment. He had no reason for one now that he was whole again. And Kate had told him that she loved him. He would make it up to her. Something told him he’d coupled with her quickly and selfishly last night. The next time, he would take hours to explore her body. He would bring her to the edge of madness over and over before letting her fall into the abyss. Their love play would last all night and into the next morning.
Why wait?
Right now, he needed her. She slept across the hall. He could creep into her bed and surprise her as she had done to him.
Nicholas put the candle down and went to the solar’s door. He peered out. Seeing no one, he hurried across the hall and quickly opened her bedchamber door and closed it.
Kate wasn’t there.
Though it was early, she must have already gone downstairs. He would dress. Find her. And bring her back for a morning they never would forget.
Eagerly, he rushed back to the solar. Where had he put his clothes? He hadn’t ventured far from the bed when he’d undressed. Then he remembered folding them up and placing them under one of the pillows. Nicholas pushed a knee against the bed and as he reached for his pants, he stopped. Quickly, he grabbed for the candle and held it above the bedclothes.
Blood.
He frowned. Had Kate’s courses been flowing?
Then he recalled when he’d entered her. He hadn’t fully comprehended at the time, in whatever haze lingered over him, but everything became crystal clear to him now.
Kate came to him as a virgin. This was her blood spilled last night from their time together.
That meant her marriage to his father had never been consummated. It made no sense. Someone, Rafe most likely, would have checked the next morning. Had his father been embarrassed at his inability to couple with Kate and cut himself, smearing blood upon the sheets?
Wait. His father had died sometime during the night. Had Kate been responsible for his death?
Nay, it couldn’t be. Nicholas put himself in her place. Cedric Mandeville had been old. Mayhap, he couldn’t perform his husbandly duty. His heart had given out. Kate, young and far from home, would have been in limbo, wed to the earl and yet not truly his widow. Nicholas believed she had pretended the wedding night occurred as it should have, placing blood against the sheets.
Why then had she not told him? Especially when he let it be known that he waited a month to ensure she was not with child by her first husband.
He would find her and demand the truth.
Nicholas dressed hurriedly and made his way downstairs. He heard noises coming from the kitchen and assumed Lucy and possibly Dorinda were already at work. The great hall was empty. Had Kate gone outside? She’d shared with him her fondness for chickens. Mayhap she gathered eggs.
He went to the door to leave and found Albert pushing himself to his feet. The knight brought his hands to his head and rubbed it, frowning. It was unlike the knight to fall asleep on duty. Nicholas had known the man far too long and trusted him implicitly. Then he recalled how he had felt when he’d awakened and knew in his heart that Kate was somehow responsible. Again, why? It wasn’t as if Albert would have kept them from their love play. Why drug the knight?
“Have you seen Lady Katelyn?” he demanded.
“Nay, my lord. How are you feeling?”
“Grumpy,” he replied and flung the door open.
A soldier stood guard outside the manor. He, too, had not seen Kate. Nicholas ventured to the rear of the manor house and looked at the group of horses standing there. Immediately, he spied Ebony was missing.
Where had Kate gone? And why?
He doubted she ventured to Northmere. Not after what Rafe had said yesterday. Neither he nor Kate would trust the knight again. If not Northmere, where?
Ravenwood.
Kate and Catherine had enjoyed one another�
��s company immensely. If Kate found herself in trouble, Nicholas suspected she would turn to Catherine Savill. Guilt filled him as he remembered how he’d spoken to her yesterday. He’d threatened to remove her from Northmere and return her to a nunnery if she didn’t agree to an annulment. The idea must have repelled her—and frightened her. Mayhap Kate sought Catherine’s protection from him.
Yet, she’d come to him last night. Given her virginity, despite his harsh words. Women had always been somewhat of a mystery to Nicholas. Kate’s actions only confirmed how little he knew about them, even his own wife.
Sunset stood munching hay. Dawn had broken but storm clouds hovered above. The horse nickered when he saw his master and Nicholas remembered that he had no saddle. It didn’t matter. He would ride bareback. He quickly put on Sunset’s bridle and mounted the horse as Gerald rode up from his rounds with two other soldiers.
“My lord. ’Tis good to see you up and about.”
“Ride with me, Gerald,” Nicholas commanded and wheeled Sunset. He glanced around and saw fresh tracks leading away from the group of hobbled horses and decided to follow them, thinking they might belong to Ebony. Nicholas pointed to them so the knight knew the direction to follow. It puzzled him that two horses had followed this path, making him more determined to get to the bottom of this situation.
Gerald fell in next to him and the two men rode in silence. The tracks led away from the manor house and then arced around and moved in a direct line toward Ravenwood. After some minutes, the threat of rain became a reality. They rode in a downpour, soon losing the tracks. Nicholas followed what his gut told him and kept to the notion that Kate traveled to Ravenwood.
“Up ahead, my lord,” Gerald said, pointing to the right.
Nicholas saw two horses in the distance as buckets of rain fell and spurred Sunset on. They reached the pair and saw a rider lying on the ground. As he dismounted, Nicholas recognized Henfrey, an arrow embedded in his shoulder. He’d been shot from behind.
Nicholas quickly inspected the wound and lifted his squire to a sitting position. “What happened?”
Henfrey grimaced, coming to. “I was escorting Lady Katelyn to Ravenwood when we were attacked.”
“Who attacked? How many?” He tried to quell his panic. He needed to squeeze every bit of information that he could from Henfrey.
“I don’t know, my lord. I was hit from behind and knocked from the saddle. I could hear other horses approach. Two. Mayhap three. I told Lady Katelyn to run.” His voice broke. I’m sorry. They must have taken her.”
“Up you go.” He brought the boy to a standing position. “Can you ride?”
Henfrey nodded, though he looked unsteady on his feet.
“Return to Northmere and have Elewys take care of you.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Nicholas assisted Henfrey into his saddle. “I’m tying Ebony to your horse. Take your time. The arrow should remain in place. I’ve seen men hit in a similar manner before. It will bleed very little until it’s removed.” He paused. “Henfrey, did Lady Katelyn explain why you were headed toward Ravenwood?”
“Only that she had to speak to Lady Catherine in person on a matter of grave importance. I offered to take a missive but she refused. The countess insisted no one know where she went.”
He patted Henfrey’s thigh. “Then we should keep her secret. Mention this to no one.”
“Even if we didn’t reach Ravenwood?”
“I’m sure Lady Katelyn had her reasons. Say nothing other than you were returning to Northmere and a stray arrow struck you.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Nicholas attached Ebony to the boy’s horse and motioned him to ride off. Turning to Gerald, he said, “The rain is too hard to see which direction Lady Katelyn might have been taken but I’m betting ’tis north.”
“You think the Scots have her.”
“I do. Few highwaymen roam these parts, knowing how frequently Northmere soldiers patrol the roads. It has to be Scots who’ve taken her.”
He tried to tamp down the panic that raced through him. If Kate immediately told her captors who she was, he foresaw no problems. As the Countess of Northmere and cousin to King Edward, she would be treated quite well by them. Then he realized that only a handful of people had witnessed their marriage. No one beyond his uncle, aunt, and Bryce had been present. If Kate claimed to be Nicholas Mandeville’s wife, she might not be believed. Still, her family connection to the king should keep her safe.
Unless she refused to tell her kidnappers who she truly was.
That thought chilled him to the bone. If they thought Kate an ordinary woman, they would use her.
Badly.
Would she understand the severity of the situation? She had such little experience in the outside world, having been caged in the convent most of her life. The thought of her being savaged by her kidnappers terrified him.
“Return to the manor house, Gerald. Leave one man to guard it and the two servants. Lead the rest to the border’s edge, where we last crossed in the spring. I’m returning to Northmere for my weapons and more soldiers.”
“As you wish.” Nicholas saw the grave look in Gerald’s eyes. The knight added, “We’ll get her back, my lord.”
“We have to.”
Nicholas took off in the rain toward Northmere, a fervent prayer on his lips.
*
Escape would prove impossible if she allowed herself to be bound with the rope the man Alec pulled out.
“Gag her, too,” the stout kidnapper added.
“What need is there to restrain me?” she boldly asked. “We are in the middle of nowhere. I have no one to cry out to for help. If I managed to get away, I wouldn’t make it but a few feet. My skirts are sodden and too heavy to run in. You would easily catch me. I see no point.” She crossed her arms in front of her, daring them to contradict her.
“The lass does have a point, Muir.” Alec gave her an admiring glance. “She’ll be easier to handle if she has use of her limbs. Binding her makes her harder to maneuver, even more so in this downpour.”
“Verra well,” Muir said, his brogue thick.
The red-bearded one caught her elbows, lowering his face to within inches of hers, his sour breath giving her pause. “Take care, lass. Do nothing foolish. Especially if ye favor yer head attached to yer neck.”
Katelyn stood her ground, staring back at him, though his words chilled her and his touch repelled her. She wondered if they knew exactly who she was. They seemed to. She recalled one of them saying that their waiting had paid off. That meant she had been who they wanted and could only assume it was ransom they sought, as Albert had explained to her.
Desperate men could act recklessly. She would give them no reason to harm her. At least they’d taken her suggestion and left her free from restraints. She would now look for any opportunity to escape their custody.
Alec swung back into his saddle. Katelyn threw off Muir’s hold on her and went to the other man, who seemed more sympathetic toward her. Alec lifted her into the saddle in front of him and pulled her tightly against him.
“Behave, lass,” he said in her ear. “No harm’ll come to you if you do.”
Katelyn didn’t acknowledge his words.
Muir mounted and they took off again. Though the tail end of summer, the air was chilly, especially with the hard rain added in. She watched carefully where they rode, glad they hadn’t blindfolded her, hoping she would soon be able to retrace the same path in the opposite direction. As the rain began to let up, Katelyn saw a city in the distance to the right of them. It must be Berwick-upon-Tweed, which stood east of Northmere and was situated a mere two and a half miles from the border.
They continued to ride north and passed a few scattered cottages. Twice, she saw men working outside but refrained from crying out for help. It would be useless. They were in Scotland now and strangers would not venture to help an English captive. She would only be able to depend upon herself. They rode throu
gh a small village and then later a larger one. Again, Katelyn saw a few other people and noticed they averted their eyes as the two horses passed.
Once they reached the outskirts of the second village, they veered to the west. Minutes later, they arrived at a structure similar in size to her manor house. She assumed it to be their destination as the horses slowed. The riders guided their mounts to a small building and handed them off to a young man. Muir took her roughly by the arm and marched her to the house.
Entering, she counted four men sitting about a fire. The gawked at her as if she were a three-headed dragon.
“Get him,” Muir ordered.
“He’s upstairs. Take her there,” one said, his eyes raking over her.
“Move,” Muir said, dragging her up a staircase as Alec followed closely behind.
They went down a dimly lit corridor and stopped in front of a door. Muir rapped twice and Katelyn heard a deep voice bid, “Come.”
Her captor opened the door and pulled her through. Katelyn glanced about and saw most of the room was in darkness. The only light came from the fireplace, where a man sat. He beckoned them over. As they reached him, she saw he was about two score and stout, with a dark beard and eyes that bored into her.
“She’s not bound?” he asked.
“I saw no need,” Katelyn quickly responded. “I am but a woman. They are men and twice my size. What Scotsman would bother to help me if I called out for help or tried to escape?”
“You’ve a quick tongue, Lady Katelyn,” the man observed. He glanced at his men. “Leave.”
Waiting until they left, he said, “Have a seat,” and indicated one near him.
“I’d rather stand. How should I address you?”
“I am Errol Cummins, Laird of Dunbar. You won’t need to address me. I’ll speak for the both of us or give you permission to speak.”
