by Sarah Hegger
“I swear it.” Digory placed his hand on his heart. “I did not touch her.”
Roger believed the stupid fool.
“Then.” Matty smirked and wriggled on the bench beside Digory. “You did not touch me then.”
“Oh, dear God.” Kathryn drained the tankard in three huge swallows. “My father will kill him.”
Mathilda went deathly pale. “He cannot know.” She leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You must not tell him, Kathryn. You cannot.”
“I came looking for you,” Roger said. “How do I explain this?”
“Tell them you could not find me.” Mathilda wrapped her arms around Digory’s. “Tell them you looked but I had disappeared.”
“You mean I should lie?” It sat ill with him to lie. If one of his sisters went missing, he would want to know where she was, and with whom she kept company. No matter how unsuitable. God’s bones, none of them had celebrated the appearance of Garrett in Beatrice’s life, but rather him than not knowing what had happened to her. “Your mother will be worried.”
Digory’s throat worked as he swallowed.
“You cannot tell her.” Mathilda flushed, her eyes fever bright. “If she knows, it is only a matter of time before my father gets it out of her.”
“She is right about that.” Kathryn chewed her lip and frowned. “You could come back with us, Matty.”
“I am afraid it is too late for that.” Digory flushed scarlet. “Matters have proceeded apace. There might be…consequences.”
“Nay, nobody knows yet, and…oh!” Kathryn’s color rivaled Digory’s.
“Please, Kathryn.” Mathilda grabbed Kathryn’s free hand. “I beg of you. Go away and pretend you never saw us. I love Digory.” Tears welled and trickled down her cheeks. “He is my world, and I would rather die than see us ripped asunder. Please, Kathryn.”
“I—”
“If you love me, then you will want to see me happy.”
Kathryn’s grip tightened on his, and Roger returned the pressure.
“I do love you, but Matty you have done a mad thing here,” Kathryn said. “What made you think you could run away and marry where you pleased? You knew father had plans for your marriage.”
“That you should say this to me.” Mathilda reared back, and tossed her head. “You, who always do as you please, when you please. Why is it fine for you to choose your own fate, but I must meekly marry where father says?”
“You know I would have made sure you were married well,” Kathryn said.
“Married well by your choice.” Mathilda laid her head on Digory’s shoulder. “Married the man you judged right for me.”
“Aye, well.” Kathryn squeezed his hand as if to comfort him. Had they been alone, Roger would have told her he needed no such consideration. “I chose well for you. Roger is the very best sort of man. He would have kept you safe, protected you, taken care of you.”
“I did not want Roger.”
Good thing he possessed an impenetrable conceit. “I am sitting right here.”
“I beg your pardon.” Matty flushed and wriggled closer to a pale Digory.
Kathryn, the evil heifer, threw him a wicked grin. “I said you were the best of men.”
“I am beyond flattered.” How did a man resist a smile like that? Buggered if he knew. “I am unmanned by your praise, but we now have this situation to deal with.”
“You marry him.” Mathilda perked up. “You said yourself he was the very best of men. You marry him and both of you forget you ever saw me. Father will be happy, because he has the alliance he wants.”
Kathryn gaped at her sister. A choked laugh escaped her. “You cannot be serious. I will never marry. I am going to make my way by the sword.”
Mathilda snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, Kate. Nobody ever believed that. Not even you.”
* * * *
“She married a farmer,” Kathryn said it for what must be the hundredth time, and still she battled to believe it.
Roger rode ahead of her. He shrugged like he had done the other hundred times she had said it. “You are supposed to be forgetting you found her.”
“I cannot believe it.”
“You had best believe it.” He glanced over his shoulder at her. “Because you agreed to this lunacy.”
“I know.” They had left Matty arm-in-arm with her new husband, weeping with gratitude. “My father really will kill him if he ever finds out.”
“And your sister?” Roger stared forward. “What would he do to her?”
Kathryn shuddered. Her father’s rage would rip through them all for days and days. Mostly it would find a target in her mother, and Kathryn would not allow that. Mother did not have many beatings left in her to take. “It is for the best.”
Roger drew rein. He gestured between them. “Have you thought what you will say about this?”
“He does not know I am with you. Nobody knows.”
Roger raised a brow. “And you do not think us arriving back at Anglesea together will give the game away?”
“We will not arrive—”
“Do not even think I will let you travel alone.”
“But—”
“Not.”
“Only when we draw close enough—”
“Not.”
Kathryn bit back a growl. Roger could be the stubbornest man in Christendom. He conveniently forgot that she had followed him, without detection or mishap, for three days. However, the incident at the inn did not strengthen her argument. He wore that look now, the one that said he would tie her to his horse before he gave ground. “I told them that I was going to the Abbey to pray before our marriage,” she said. “We could say that you stopped by the Abbey, saw me there, and escorted me home.”
He glared.
“The Abbey is not even half a day’s ride from Anglesea. It might be a little unexpected but nobody could suspect you of…that…in the middle of the day.”
“What you know about that, I could write on the head of a nail.” Roger shook his head at her and clucked his horse forward. “We will discuss this later.”
Kathryn saw nothing to discuss. She had come up with a rather neat solution.
“We should reach Calder Castle by sunset.” Roger squinted over the tops of a heavy stand of trees. “My sister and her husband reside there. They will provide us a bed for the night, and we can talk this through at a decent meal.”
“But—”
He raised an imperious brow at her. It galled her, it really did but it also shut her up.
Chapter 15
Roger led them west toward Calder Castle. It would cost them perhaps a day extra, but it would be worth it to persuade Kathryn to his plan before they reached Anglesea. From the stubborn set of her jaw as she rode beside him, he might need to stretch one day into two.
He could not fail in this. Before they left Calder, she would agree to be his wife. The tattered remnants of her reputation might still be salvaged, and after a few years of respectable marriage, nobody would even remember how Roger obtained his bride. Not to mention Sir Royce, and his now forever missing youngest daughter. Their best hope of keeping Mathilda’s secret lay in giving Royce what the man wanted. Him.
Dagger darted back and forth as they left open farmland and entered the forest. Roger coveted the woodlands they rode through to reach the castle. So much wealth grew in these great stands of hardwoods. His nephew, Simon, already a young earl under Sir Gregory’s guardianship, would grow into a wealthy man.
Anglesea had trees but nothing like this. Their coastal soils would not support the massive root systems that underpinned Calder’s wealth. Last Christmas Gregory had spoken of rotating the tree harvesting, planting new saplings before they felled the grand old sentinels. Roger could not imagine Calder ever running thin on wood. These forests would stand forever.
Upper Mere bustled with the everyday business of a prosperous town. A few voices called
out to him in greeting. Roger stopped a moment to chat with the midwife, Bess, as he caught her between house visits.
Dagger sat like a gentleman beside Bess and allowed his head to be patted.
“On your way to the castle?” Bess smiled at him and hefted her basket onto her hip. “Our lady will be pleased to see you.”
“Aye.” Roger made to dismount but Bess waved him to stay.
Adjusting her spotless wimple, she said, “Do not be clambering off that great beastie. I have but two breaths between young Gilbert sticking a bean up his nose and Black Peter’s wife delivering.”
The death of the former Earl of Calder had seen a change in Upper Mere. As if a fog had lifted, the town seemed lighter somehow. Townsfolk went about their business with bouncier steps and friendlier greetings.
“And who is this?” Bess cocked her head and stared at Kathryn.
“Bess, allow me to introduce Lady Kathryn of Mandeville.”
Bess glanced from him to Kathryn. “Nice to meet you, Lady Kate.”
“Lady Kathryn,” Roger said. “Nobody calls her Lady Kate.”
“Is that so?” Bess raised her brows. “And why is that?”
“I do not care for it,” Kathryn said.
“Is your husband not with you, Lady Kathryn?”
Kathryn flushed to her hairline. “I do not have a husband.”
“No husband.” Hand on her hip, Bess glared at him. “What be you thinking, Sir Roger?”
“Oh, it was not his fault.” Kathryn threw him an apologetic look. “He did not invite me on this journey. I invited myself.”
“Invited yourself?”
“Aye.” Kathryn nodded. “We have had quite the adventure.”
Roger could have rescued her, but with Bess making his argument for him, he felt less inclined to do so.
“I feel sure you have.” Bess tweaked her pristine apron. “All alone?”
“At first,” Kathryn said. “But now we have Dagger with us. We rescued him.”
“Indeed.” Bess gave him a smug grin. “Fancy that.” She patted her basket against her side. “Well, I best be getting on. Babies have a nasty habit of appearing when you least expect them.” She tapped Roger’s knee. “I am sure Lady Faye will be wanting a word with you, my lord.”
* * * *
Kathryn tried not to stare, she really did, but she had never seen a lovelier woman than Lady Faye. Hair the color of ripe wheat, eyes deeper blue than the sky above them and a complexion so creamy Kathryn’s fingers itched to touch.
She had heard the ballads sung to Lady Faye, all of them, but who could guess that they would fail to do justice to the real woman. Of course, the furor over her marriage had transformed Lady Faye into a walking legend.
Sir Gregory, her grave and handsome husband, stood beside Lady Faye and provided a perfect dark foil to her bright beauty.
“Roger.” Lady Faye stepped forward with a sun-bright smile. “We did not expect you.”
Roger dismounted and hauled his sister off her feet in a huge hug. He put her down with a grimace. “Lord, Faye, what do they feed you.”
Faye swatted him and turned to her. “Good day.”
Kathryn scrambled from Striker’s back, all too conscious of her chausses and stained tunic. She made an attempt to smooth her hair. “Good day to you.”
Roger greeted Sir Gregory with a hearty handshake and a clap on the back that would have sent a smaller man to his knees.
“Welcome to Calder.” Faye held her flawless white hand out to Kathryn. “I am Faye.”
Kathryn winced at her filthy hand. “Forgive me, I am covered in travel dirt.”
“I have two boys.” Faye clasped her hand anyway. “I am no stranger to a bit of dirt.”
“Faye.” Roger strode to Kathryn side, and she immediately felt bolstered. “I would like to make Lady Kathryn of Mandeville known to you.”
“My pleasure.” Kathryn made her curtsy, and flushed at how ungainly her chausses made her appear.
“Mandeville?” Frowning, Faye turned to Roger. “Is that not the name of…?”
“He was to marry my sister,” Kathryn blurted out.
Faye stared.
Roger shifted.
“Welcome.” Sir Gregory filled the silence with his rich, dark voice. “Welcome to Calder. I am sure you will want to refresh yourself.”
A dunk in a horse trough might befit her appearance more, but Kathryn managed to return his smile.
“Ruth will show you to a chamber.” Faye motioned a serving girl closer.
Ruth bobbed her head, and Kathryn dragged another rude stare away. A series of scars about Ruth’s eyes and mouth marred what might once have been a pretty face.
“I will have a bath sent up.” Faye thrust her arm through Roger’s. “Take your time whilst I catch up with what my brother has been up to.”
* * * *
“Explain yourself.”
Roger winced at the strident note in Faye’s voice. His oldest sister very rarely allowed her temper to show, but it flew like a scarlet war banner now.
“Lady Kathryn is the sister to Lady Mathilda, to whom I was to be betrothed.”
“You are betrothed to Lady Kathryn?” Gregory exhaled and smiled.
“Nay.” Roger pushed a hand through his hair. He wanted a long soak himself, but first he had some explanations to wade through. He had known Faye and Gregory would have strong opinions about his appearance with Kathryn. He could not fault them their outrage. “I was almost betrothed to Lady Mathilda. Her father offered Lady Kathryn, but I refused.”
Gregory squared off, his expression dark. “Best you explain then.”
“This is not like you.” However upset, Faye was always the gracious hostess and she settled him beside the hearth with a goblet of Anglesea’s finest, and a platter of small pastries and cheese. “I would expect something like this from William, but not you.”
“I did not plan it.” Roger cursed the peevish note in his voice. “Lady Mathilda and her family came to Anglesea. She did not care for my wooing and ran away before I could ask.”
“She ran away?” Faye dropped onto the seat opposite him, and gaped. “From you?”
“Aye.” Roger’s grin surprised him. “I managed to send a gentle maiden running to the hills to escape marriage to me.”
Gregory chuckled and sipped his wine.
Faye looked murderous. “There is naught wrong with you. Why, the silly girl would be lucky to have you.”
“Thank you, dear sister.” Roger saluted her with his goblet. “But it has all turned out for the best.”
Gregory grumbled and shifted in his seat.
“Let me make this short.” Roger drained his goblet and accepted a refill. “On Kathryn’s suggestion, I went after Mathilda. Only Kathryn followed me, and I did not know she was there until three days into my journey.”
“She followed you?”
“You did not detect her for three days?”
Gregory and Faye spoke at once, then both sat back and stared at him in disbelief.
“She is something of a…” How to explain Kathryn to them? “She is a lady of singular resourcefulness.”
“Indeed?” Faye rested her chin on her palm. Her eyes sparkled with interest.
“She rides better than a man,” he said. “She wields a sword like a knight, can track me without me being aware of her, and cares nothing for being a woman.”
“Roger.” Faye snorted. “I feel sure that cannot be right. She is lovely.”
“But she does not care for it.” A smile came unbidden. “She has sworn never to marry and become a shield-maiden.”
Gregory choked on a mouthful of wine. “Did you tell her it was a forgotten occupation?”
“She does not care.” Roger laughed with Gregory. “She intends to recreate it, and my wager would be on her to get it right.”
“I have no idea what a shield-maiden was or is.” Fa
ye tapped her slippered foot.
“A shield-maiden was a warrior from the north. North women owned land, could command armies—”
“I do not care.” Faye prodded him with her foot. “What I want to know is why an unmarried maiden is journeying alone with a man who is not her family.”
“I am getting to that.” Roger should not still enjoy irking his sister, but once a brother, always a brother. “After I discovered her following me, she bribed me into letting her come along.”
“Bribed?” Gregory raised a brow. “With what?”
“That is what I want to know.” Faye’s crossed her arms.
“She knew where her sister was, and I didn’t.” Roger leaned forward. “I have not touched her, Faye. On my honor I have not.”
Faye sat back in her seat. “Does she not appeal to you?”
He laughed at that. “Aye, she appeals to me. More than I can say, but there are some walls that you storm and other gates that you coax open.”
“A keep that surrenders willingly makes for a warm home.” Gregory nodded.
“Roger.” Faye cocked her head. “Are you in love with this girl?”
His smile would not be denied. “I may very well be.”
Chapter 16
Kathryn gave her lilac-scented arm an appreciative sniff. She smelled like a girl again, from her clean toes all the way up to her freshly washed hair. Matty would scoff at the notion, but Kathryn had her moments of girlish enjoyment. Beneath her bare feet, the fur rug all but dared her to wiggle her toes in it.
A knocked sounded. “Kathryn, it is Faye, may I come in.”
“Aye.” Kathryn clutched the drying cloth around her breasts. It ended mid-thigh and exposed most of her legs. Never mind she liked her legs and thought it rather a pity she could not display them more.
Faye floated into the room like she rested on her own cloud. “Feel better?”
“Aye. My thanks. Ruth was most…helpful.” She could not lie outright.
Faye’s expression grew pensive. “Ruth has been with me for a while.”
Kathryn itched to ask about the scars Ruth bore, and the cold manner she had, but she did not know Faye well enough for that. In another woman, Kathryn might have judged Ruth’s manner as sullen, but it didn’t sit right. Ruth seemed to bear inner scars as noticeable as the ones on her face.
