“I know,” he said softly. “But you cannot go home right now. Will you please let me take you to your chamber so you may rest?”
Kathalin simply nodded and he pulled her along, holding her elbow tightly as he guided her towards keep. They were nearly to the door when a voice came from behind.
“Gates? Where are you going?”
Gates knew the voice before he even turned around. With Kathalin still in his grip, he turned to see Jasper a few feet behind him, his bearded face full of curiosity and confusion. Before Gates could answer, Jasper’s gaze moved to Kathalin, who was wiping tears from her eyes, and his entire expression changed.
“Kathalin?” he murmured incredulously, inspecting her hooded features with the same shock Gates and Alexander had shown upon meeting the woman. Jasper, too, could hardly believe what he was seeing. “Kathalin, is that truly you?”
Gates spoke before Kathalin could. “We looked for you in the hall, my lord,” he said. “But it is full of men and Lady Kathalin has just suffered a distressing experience, so it may be best to allow her to rest first before engaging in any meaningful conversation. May I have permission to take her to her chamber, then?”
Jasper couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter. Ignoring Gates’ question, he moved towards his daughter, reaching out a hand that came near her head. Kathalin visibly flinched, her eyes big at her father, but all Jasper did was peel back the hood of the cloak to get a good look at her. When he did, he sighed.
“God’s Bones,” he said softly, with awe in his voice. “You look just like your mother did as a young woman.”
Kathalin gazed back at her father, reacquainting herself with the man. Truthfully, she didn’t have much memory of him. She had been so young when she had been sent away that all she really remembered of him was dark hair and a booming voice. Essentially, she was looking at a stranger.
“Greetings, my lord,” she said, unsure what more to say.
But Jasper shook his head at her, grasping her by the shoulders and pulling her away from Gates. “My lord, is it?” he said, looking her over in detail. “I am your father. You will kiss me.”
Before Kathalin could protest, Jasper kissed her loudly on both cheeks, insisting she do the same to him. She did, timidly, and he laughed. “It will become easier, with time,” he told her, completely oblivious to her hesitant behavior. “God’s Bones, I cannot get over how beautiful you have become. Isn’t she, Gates?”
Gates was looking at Kathalin with concern, knowing Jasper’s booming voice and loud manner was probably not having a good effect on her. “She is indeed, my lord,” he said quietly.
Jasper simply grinned. “It is good to have you home, Daughter,” he said. “Your mother and I have a grand event planned to celebrate your return. Many houses will be coming to Hyssington to meet you and that means many young men as well. I am sure you will be quite excited by that. All young women love parties, do they not?”
Gates was somewhat chagrinned by what he was hearing. More than that, he was downright opposed to it. A celebration with young men? Men to gaze upon Jasper de Lara’s grown daughter? Damnation, he didn’t like that idea one bit but in the same breath, he knew that such things were beyond his control. What Jasper did wasn’t up to him. He was sworn to the man and therefore sworn to obey any whim or command, including an idiotic party with young men that Kathalin was clearly uncomfortable around. As Gates stood there and held his tongue, Kathalin seemed to have found hers.
“It is kind of you to arrange a celebration, Father,” she said, “but I do not require nor need one. I have come home because you summoned me and I would like to know why I am here. If you would be kind enough to tell me, I would be grateful.”
Jasper, undeterred by her stiff and formal manner with him, waved her off. “There will be plenty of time to discuss such things,” he said, grasping her by the hand and pulling her towards the hall. “Come, Daughter. Allow me to introduce you to Hyssington. Everyone will want to meet you.”
As Jasper pulled, Kathalin turned pleading eyes to Gates, who intervened on her behalf. He found that he had to. He could no longer remain silent.
“My lord,” he said, putting himself in front of Jasper so the man couldn’t move forward. He pointed to Kathalin. “Look at her; she has had an exhausting journey. She endured an attack at St. Milburga’s and snowstorms before arriving here, so it would be my strong recommendation that you allow the woman to rest this night. There will be plenty of time to introduce her to Hyssington in the days to come. At least for tonight, have pity on what she has endured to get here. It has been a very long and trying day.”
Jasper, now in doubt of his plans for his daughter, looked at Kathalin to see that she did, indeed, appear weary. She seemed pale and her eyes were red-rimmed. Disappointed he would not have the chance to sup with her, he sighed greatly. Not normally a selfless man, it was difficult for him to think of another’s needs before his own, but he managed it.
“Very well,” he said reluctantly. “Her mother has ordered the big chamber on the second floor prepared for her use. Take her there and make sure she has all that she needs, Gates, and when you are finished, I will see you in the hall. I want to hear what happened on this journey to St. Milburga’s that has you both so weary that you cannot stand to sup with me.”
Gates didn’t want to get into a verbal confrontation with a man who was clearly being rather petulant about the situation. Therefore, he simply nodded and took Kathalin away from Jasper, quickly leading her towards the box-shaped keep. The structure had a big iron grate as an entry door, a grate that was always kept locked, so he called to the majordomo inside, the Tender of the Keep, who happened to be a woman. The old servant appeared from her room near the entry door and unlocked it.
The sound of the iron grate locking behind them made it sound as if they were in a prison. Hollow sounds of iron reverberated off the stone walls. That uneasiness was evident in Kathalin’s expression as Gates took her up the narrow spiral stairs to the floor above where there was one large chamber and two smaller chambers. Servants slept in the smaller chambers but the larger one was used for guests, and it was into this spacious bower that Gates took her.
The chamber door was a very heavy oak panel, reinforced with iron, and made creaking sounds as it was opened. Kathalin stepped into the chamber and was immediately hit by the smell of fresh rushes, no doubt cut from the tree that very day. But as the smell filled her nostrils, she was caught off-guard by what she saw; an enormous bed was in the center of the chamber, facing the hearth, and there were furs and pillows and resplendent luxury all around it on a colossal scale.
Shocked, Kathalin looked further into the room. There was a lounge of some kind beneath a lancet window, something cushioned and long and without arms on it, and there was also a separate area with a small, painted table and two matching chairs, all made from pale wood, that was evidently an eating or refreshment area of some kind. A long, slender table nearby held a precious glass carafe half-filled with deep red wine and two small glasses. It was clear that someone had gone through a great deal of trouble to make this room very luxurious and comfortable.
Gates didn’t seem to notice any of the decadence as Kathalin stood there and gaped. He moved into the chamber as if it all meant absolutely nothing to him, which it didn’t, and went to the hearth, pulling forth peat and wood in order to begin a fire. Kathalin managed to close her mouth and wander into the chamber after him. Her initial surprise was turning to awe at the finery she was witnessing. From the austere halls of St. Milburga’s to the wealth of the de Lara’s, it was as if she had opened the door and stepped foot into heaven.
The first example of wealth was the floor – since stepping into the room, she hadn’t walked on the floor once – there were cow’s hides and sheep’s skins covering most of it. The next example was the bed – she was almost afraid to touch it. It had a silk coverlet that was finely embroidered with hummingbirds and flowers, and there were several pil
lows on the bed that had also been exquisitely embroidered. In fact, the entire bed was the most beautiful thing Kathalin had ever seen and she inspected it with great care.
“I have never, in all of my life, seen such a bed,” she said, timidly putting her hand on it to feel the softness. “It looks as if angels sleep here.”
Down on one knee in front of the hearth, Gates had the peat and wood neatly stacked and was in the process of striking the flint. In spite of the fact that he had declared to Kathalin back at the farmer’s hut that he did not start fires, he did indeed start them and he could do it very well.
“Your mother is responsible for the finery,” he said. “She sews things of such beauty, you cannot even imagine.”
Kathalin looked at him. “Truly?” she said, wonder in her voice. “I can sew very well but I never learned to embroider such as this. Mother Benedicta considered it a foolish waste of time.”
“Why?”
“Because embroidery serves no purpose other than to flatter vain women.”
The peat was beginning to catch fire and Gates blew on it to spark it up. “It seems to me that Mother Benedicta had very strong views of the world and those in it,” he said. “She convinced you that anything other than brown woolen clothing was vain and sinful, yet you are wearing fine clothing this night and I do not think it is sinful in the least.”
Kathalin smiled faintly, looking at the cloak she was wearing. “It is warm and comfortable, as you said it would be,” she said, her gaze returning to the bed. “And, if you wish to know a secret, it has not turned my skin red. For that alone, I am thankful that I am wearing it.”
Gates glanced up from the hearth, envisioning her resplendent beauty. Strong words of admiration came to mind but he chased them away. It hurt his heart in a way he did not understand to be unable to say such things to her.
“It suits you,” he said simply. As the fire in the hearth began to blaze more strongly, he stood up and brushed off his hands. “You will be safe here while I go and retrieve your possessions. I will also have food sent to you, as I can imagine you must be hungry. Is there anything else you require?”
Kathalin shook her head, still running her hand over the coverlet. “Do you know who I will be sharing this bed with?”
He looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”
Kathalin shrugged, pointing to the bed. “I mean am I to share this with someone?” she asked. “This is such a big bed. Mayhap I will share it with my mother’s maid? Or a servant?”
Gates shook his head. “You do not seem to understand that all of this is for you,” he said. “You will not share the bed with anyone. It is yours.”
Kathalin’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “But it is so big!”
He gave her a half-grin. “You are the daughter of an earl,” he said as he moved to the chamber door. “You must become accustomed to the fact that big chambers and fine clothing are your lot in life.”
Bewildered, Kathalin’s attention was drawn to the bed once more but she realized that Gates was leaving, so she hastened after him.
“Wait,” she said, catching up to him. “You… you will return, will you not?”
He stood with his hand on the iron door latch. “I told you I would,” he said. “I am going back to the bailey to retrieve the basket with your possessions in it.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment. It seemed that there was something on her mind but she wasn’t sure how to voice it so Gates lifted the latch and opened the door, preparing to leave, but Kathalin stopped him again.
“After this,” she said, struggling to find the correct words. “After tonight, I mean. Will… will you remain here? That is to say, will I see you? You are not leaving Hyssington?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he said. “I am not leaving Hyssington. Why do you ask?”
Kathalin wasn’t sure why she had asked; all she knew was that the thought of him leaving her alone in a castle full of strangers terrified her. Rescuer… great protector… he had been all of these things to her since leaving St. Milburga’s. But there was more to it and she knew it. It wasn’t simply the fact that she didn’t want to be left with strangers.
She didn’t want him to leave her at all.
“Because…,” she stammered. “Because I do not know anyone here and… what I mean is that I know you and you are the only person I do know, so I am hoping you will stay with me as I become accustomed to Hyssington. I do not want you to leave me.”
I do not want you to leave me. Gates could have read a great deal into that statement and it was difficult not to do so. He didn’t want to leave her, either, his protective instincts very strong when it came to her, but he, too, knew it was more than that. Something much more, something that frightened him. That fear caused his manner to harden somewhat in a purely self-defensive posture.
“Unless Lord de Lara sends me away, I will remain at Hyssington,” he said formally. “I will be here. You need not fear. I am at your service, my lady.”
Somehow, that wasn’t what Kathalin wanted to hear. She wasn’t exactly sure what she wanted to hear, but a generic statement of service hadn’t been it. She felt a bit saddened by his stiff reply and a bit disappointed. There had been no warmth in his words at all and that was what she had been hoping for, in hindsight.
Warmth from his eyes again.
Warmth from him.
“Thank you,” she simply said, putting her hand on the door because he was already halfway through it. “I will bolt this door after you leave. I will not feel safe otherwise.”
He nodded, sensing something gloomy and moody to her manner all of a sudden. She had been open and wistful only moments early, but now she was seemingly saddened. He was curious about her swift change in mood but he wouldn’t dwell on it nor would he ask her why. It was probably safer if he didn’t. He didn’t want to give himself any false notions to feed his attraction to her.
God help him if she was attracted to him, too.
“Of course,” he said. “I do not blame you for your fears. In fact, it would be wise not to open this door for anyone but me. I will bring food to you myself.”
“No one?”
“Not a soul. Not even your father.”
She fought off a grin. “Especially my father,” she said. “He seems to want to put me in the middle of everyone you are trying to protect me from. I… am grateful, Gates.”
Gates. His name never sounded so sweet, spoken in her gentle voice. Not one to give in to giddiness or the thrills of attraction, he nonetheless found himself feeling somewhat flighty as he gazed into her eyes. Foolish, even.
Dear God, he had to get out of there!
“It is my pleasure, my lady,” he said, resisting the urge to call her by her name. Kathalin. It was such a beautiful name. “I will return.”
Kathalin simply nodded and Gates had no more reason to stay. Quickly, he quit the room, listening to the door shut softly behind him and hearing the bolt thrown, as he made his way down the spiral stairway. The old woman guarding the grate door down at the entry unlocked the iron grate and allowed him to pass into the bailey beyond.
Even as Gates made his way across the muddy, half-frozen bailey, his thoughts continued to linger on Kathalin. It wasn’t good for him to think on her beyond what was required for him to carry out his duties, but the fact of the matter was that he did think about her. He’d been thinking about her fairly steadily since last night, since he’d spent the entire night outside of her chamber door in the tiny inn, guarding it against any danger. That beautiful, fine, and pure woman was increasingly on his mind and as much as he tried to push her aside, he couldn’t seem to do it.
Something was stirring within him, something unfamiliar, and it scared him to death.
When he finally tried to sleep that night, he found that he couldn’t, for his thoughts and dreams centered around one thing…
Kathalin.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“I will not be kept from my
own daughter, Gates,” Jasper said sternly. “I have ordered you to bring her down to the hall. Since when do you refuse an order?”
It was early in the morning the day following Kathalin’s arrival at Hyssington. The clouds were heavy this morning, pewter in the sky, threatening another dump of freezing white particles, and the castle grounds were just becoming alive with men going about their duties.
In the great hall, however, there was a potentially explosive situation happening as Jasper, demanding his daughter’s presence, had been denied by Gates. Denied. Jasper was having great difficulty comprehending his knight’s refusal to produce his own flesh and blood.
“My lord,” Gates said patiently. “May I speak candidly?”
“You had better.”
Gates, who had hardly slept all night, lifted a displeased eyebrow. “You must understand something about your daughter,” he said. “She has lived most of her life in a convent where there were no men about. Men make her extremely uncomfortable. I told you last night that she had been molested the moment she reached Hyssington and for that reason alone, she is terrified to come out of her chamber. She has been living a spartan, quiet life at St. Milburga’s. It is the only life she has ever known, one imposed upon her by you no less. You cannot suddenly demand the woman place herself in the midst of parties and feasting and the scrutiny of men because she does not know any of this. It would upset her greatly. You must allow her time to become accustomed it.”
Jasper was listening seriously, understanding what the man was saying but unwilling to agree. “She is going to have to become used to her surroundings eventually,” he said. “There is no better time than the present to start. Bring her to me, Gates.”
Gates was growing increasingly frustrated with Jasper’s lack of compassion. Under normal circumstances he would not have cared in the least, but after a sleepless night, he was coming to realize that he cared a great deal whether or not he wanted to. God, I’m such a fool, he thought. More than that, his feelings towards Kathalin were about to get him into trouble with her father.
Dark Destroyer (De Wolfe Pack Book 6) Page 15
