But he wasn’t finished.
“Would you like to know how to seduce someone, Lady Catrina?”
Waiting for her nod, he did the one thing he knew she loved. The thing everyone said was rare for him, but which seemed to happen so naturally in Catrina’s presence.
He smiled. A slow, sensual smile that reached his eyes.
Catrina had lost this battle.
When Sara had first suggested she marry Bryce, she’d thought the woman was mad. But if Catrina was being honest…she was in love with Bryce. It made no sense—the man was her captor and wanted to kill her brother. He was as stern as any man she’d ever met, slow to smile and even more unlikely to laugh. The exact opposite of Graeme, the man she had always thought she loved. And she did love him. But not in the way a woman should love her husband.
After the night at the inn, the truth had become clear to her. He was like another one of her brothers. Kind, at least to her, and safe. With him, Catrina had always imagined a “normal” life. A mother, father, children…the things she’d never had. But truly, what was normal? While her mother had abandoned her and her brothers, they’d never really wanted for anything. She’d grown up with love, security—and until she’d insisted on venturing to Bristol—the kind of freedom most women in her station didn’t have.
But Bryce was another matter altogether.
There was nothing brotherly about the way she felt for him. She had admitted as much to the countess, and Sara had whisked her away to her own bedchamber—Catrina was sure it was the size of the entirety of both Bristol and Brockburg’s upper chambers put together—to lay out their plan.
Getting Bryce to admit his feelings was the first step.
Once he did that, Sara insisted, he would reconsider his need for revenge against her family. But they were running out of time. According to Sara, her clan marched toward Kenshire even now. Drastic action was necessary.
Hence the attempt at seduction.
She would hate to tell Sara how miserably she’d failed. Bryce knew exactly what she was doing—even if he didn’t know the real reason for it.
Now, as his lips touched her wrist, she shifted her weight to support her legs, which would surely give out at any moment.
“Well?”
He waited for an answer, but she couldn’t remember the question.
“Would you like to know how to seduce someone properly?”
Oh, aye. What possible answer could she give to that outrageous question?
“First, you must not be so obvious.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t even touch her. But his eyes made it very clear what he intended.
There it was again. That feeling deep in her core, the fluttering she’d felt when he lay beneath her. She remembered the precise moment he had poised himself to wickedly touch his mouth to the most intimate part of her body.
She had that feeling again.
They stood so close she could hear his intake of breath. She breathed deeply, and the smell of hay mixed with the increasingly familiar musky scent that was Bryce made her lightheaded.
“Kiss me.”
Was he serious? She would do no such thing.
“I will not move, Catrina. If you want to turn around and walk away, do it. If you want to stay, then kiss me.”
She disliked being ordered about and would not do it.
True to his word, Bryce simply stood there, staring at her. “Every time we’ve been intimate, I’ve made the first move. How am I to know you want me as badly as I do you?”
He wanted her? Well, of course he did. Isn’t that exactly what Sara said? That, by the way he looked at her, there was no denying Bryce desired her. Their encounters told her as much. And she must use that desire to “bring him to his senses.”
He opened his mouth slightly, as if inviting her toward him. Catrina was strong, but not that strong. She leaned toward him and hesitantly lifted her lips to his.
Bryce didn’t move. He didn’t wrap his arms around her or move his lips over hers. Instead, he stood as still as a statue, looking down at her as if to say, “that was not much of a kiss.” It wasn’t, of course, but she didn’t have much experience in this area. Still, she knew what he had taught her, at least. She leaned in, closed her eyes, and put her lips to his again. But this time she slipped her tongue inside and forced him to part his lips. He gave his own tongue in surrender, and she took advantage of that small movement.
Forcing his mouth to open wider, she swept her tongue over his, willing him to respond.
And he did.
Bryce picked her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist on some nameless instinct. She reached around his neck for support, and after carrying her deep within the stable, he backed her up against a stone wall and gave her full access to every inch of his mouth. He kissed her hungrily, every movement making her more and more sure of her decision.
She couldn’t get enough of him.
Catrina knew there was more. And she wanted that. Wanted Bryce to make her his in every way. Unfortunately, he didn’t know it yet, and his honor would not allow him to take her virginity.
Or would it? How far can he be pushed?
Catrina had seen the sex act before—inadvertently, of course. But in a small castle that afforded little privacy save the lord and his family’s private bedchambers, she’d seen things her brothers wished she had not.
But she didn’t know how to tempt a man enough to make such a thing happen.
It seemed like a good start when Bryce lifted her shirt and slid his hand underneath. Still propped against the wall, Catrina marveled at the ease with which he held her in place with one hand. The other scorched a path from her stomach toward her breast before it finally found its mark. His hand splayed across her breast and squeezed gently. When his thumb circled and teased her nipple, Catrina instinctively pressed herself closer to him.
Kissing her harder, more deeply, Bryce groaned against her mouth. Or was that her? She couldn’t tell. Couldn't think. The wave of passion, the feeling of his large hand caressing her…
Catrina had never felt anything like it before. Well, maybe once or twice—with him.
But she wanted more.
“Make love to me, Bryce.”
The words escaped her lips on their own accord, but she didn’t regret them.
His hand stilled. It reached around her back and moved to its original destination underneath her buttocks. Supporting her with his hands, he pulled back to look at her. For a moment, she thought he would take her advice. Instead, he lifted her up, the mask of indifference firmly back in place, and set her down.
“Consider yourself schooled in the art of seduction, my lady.”
With that, he walked away.
She stood there for a moment, trying to understand what had just happened.
She should be embarrassed. Mortified, actually, that he’d rebuked her offer. Instead, she took a deep breath, lifted her chin, marched out into the bright sunlight, and watched as Bryce rode through the courtyard.
When he disappeared through the gatehouse entrance, she walked determinedly toward the main keep. The meal was apparently at an end, and the courtyard sprang to life.
Catrina navigated her way through the crowd to find Lady Sara.
“My lady, may I help you find someone?”
She recognized the steward from the previous evening. He was weighed down by three sacks balanced in his arms. “Good day, Peter.”
Catrina managed to surprise him. She rarely forgot a name, and although they hadn’t been formally introduced, she was sure her memory served her well.
He bowed, an odd gesture given the fact that she was technically a captive. But aside from the fact that she was not permitted to leave the castle grounds without an approved companion, Catrina was starting to feel more like a guest even after just one day. And she was surprised by the kind reception she’d received from Kenshire’s staff.
“Good day, Lady Catrina. Are you looking for my lady, perhaps?”
“Aye, do you know where I may find her?” Catrina looked over his shoulder into the arched entranceway that marked the final passage into Kenshire’s main keep.
“I do, but she asked not to be disturbed as she looks over the accounts. Of course, she may make an exception—”
“Nay, please don’t trouble her.”
Peter shifted his weight to accommodate the sacks he carried.
“Here, let me help you.”
Before he could protest, Catrina reached for one of the sacks and positioned it easily in her arms.
“My, lady, I insist—”
“As do I. Now, where do these belong?”
He looked at her strangely, but for St. Peter’s sake, she would not let an aging gentleman burden himself unnecessarily. She was perfectly capable of carrying a sack of…
“What’s in here?” she asked.
With a final glance her way, Peter walked off in the direction of the kitchens. “Wool for the chandler. To make wicks. The poor man’s apprentice up and died, God rest his soul. So until he finds another….”
He never finished, but Catrina understood. In a castle of this size, the chandler must keep busy. She couldn’t imagine the number of candles needed to light so many rooms.
“The poor apprentice. Was he young, then?”
Peter shook his head and opened a door to the same building that housed the kitchens.
Catrina had expected a stench from the animal fat used to make tallow, but the large room—with candles hanging from every available space—was a pleasant one. An old man was bent over a large cauldron, and he didn’t even hear them enter.
Catrina put her sack on a wooden table and moved closer to see what the chandler was doing. She’d assisted the chandler at Brockburg before, so she knew a little about his craft. He dipped wicks into the melted wax repeatedly, forming a tall candle. The shade was slightly different than she was used to. . .
And then she realized. “You’re using beeswax!”
The old man jumped back, as if only then realizing he wasn’t alone.
“My apologies. I didn’t mean to startle you-”
“Alfred, may I introduce Lady Catrina Kerr of Clan Kerr,” Peter nearly shouted.
She understood why immediately. “Lady Catrina Kerr,” she repeated even louder.
In nondescript brown robes tied at the waist with a rope, the man looked more like a monk than a merchant.
“A pleasure,” Alfred answered before turning back to his work.
“May I?” She picked up a wick and held it over the cauldron, waiting for the man’s approval before getting to work.
Although the chandler nodded and worked silently beside her, Peter had a harder time accepting her assistance.
“Lady Catrina, I must ask you return with me. You are a guest at Kenshire Castle. There’s no reason for you—”
She dipped the wick up and down, not bothering to look up. “I’m not a guest, Peter. I’m a captive.” Alfred either didn’t hear or chose to ignore that bit of information. “And Alfred could clearly use my help. Besides, I have nothing better to occupy my time. But thank you for your concern.”
After a few moments, the sound of Peter’s footfalls told her she was alone with the chandler. Catrina didn’t mind the repetitive work. It was only the smell she’d hated while assisting the chandler in Brockburg. She belatedly realized she wore Lady Sara’s clothing. It was a good thing they used beeswax here. She’d only heard of beeswax being used in monasteries and churches. Kenshire must be very wealthy indeed.
And although Alfred didn’t speak, she could tell he appreciated her help. From time to time, he looked at her and smiled. His kindly, wrinkled face made her think of Father Simon. She wasn’t sure why. Alfred was much older and looked nothing like the priest. Maybe it was his smile. It reached the corner of his eyes, which crinkled when he grinned.
She had no idea how much time went by. Thinking of home, her brothers, and her decision to marry Bryce, Catrina couldn’t help but wonder what Toren would do when she told him. If he was reluctant to agree to a betrothal with the chieftain of a neighboring clan, how would he feel about her wedding an Englishman? One who wanted to kill him?
She wasn’t overly concerned. After all, he wouldn’t have a choice. If she could convince Bryce, she and Sara had agreed the wedding would have to take place with or without her brother’s permission. He might be angry…well, he would be furious…but at least he would remain alive. As would her future husband.
Bryce, a husband. Was that really what she wanted?
Yes, it was.
Falling in love with Bryce, she decided, was quite like being a woolen wick on its way to becoming a candle. One moment the hot vat of wax threatened to burn you alive. The next you were yanked back out, allowed to cool, and eventually you became a thing of beauty.
Now how to get Bryce to realize he felt the same way? At least, Sara was convinced he did. Catrina wasn’t so sure. He may desire her. But love?
“What in God’s name do you think you're doing?
There was no mistaking that voice, and he did not sound like a man in love. Quite the opposite.
Not for the first time, Bryce was furious with her.
19
After he left Catrina in the stables, Bryce couldn’t seem to accomplish any task. He was even knocked to the ground during his workout. A rarity unless Geoffrey or Thomas served as his sparring partner. Visions of his “lesson” with Lady Catrina had forced their way into his thoughts, distracting him.
When the field roared at his mistake, he congratulated the elated knight who’d knocked him down. Abandoning his workout, he’d headed back to the hall for a meeting with Geoffrey and his captain of the guard.
Make love to me. The words kept repeating themselves in his mind.
Setting her down and walking away was excruciatingly difficult. But she was clever enough to understand the consequences of such an act, and Catrina had made it clear how much she wanted to marry her Scot and have a family. He would not jeopardize that.
Though he couldn’t imagine why she was so smitten with the man. If he truly wanted to marry her, then he should have brought Toren Kerr to heel. Or to hell with his permission.
Bryce pushed the thought of Catrina with another man out of his mind, but somewhere on his way to the hall, he changed his destination. The meeting could be delayed. Catrina deserved an apology.
Bryce had assumed residing at Kenshire would make his job of avoiding Lady Catrina easier, but he found himself seeking her out at nearly every turn.
Only he couldn’t find her anywhere.
After his search turned up nothing, he looked in Lady Sara’s solar. Sara, Faye, and Emma all claimed not to have seen her. He finally learned Catrina had walked through the courtyard hours earlier, but no one could tell him where she’d gone.
His strides became longer and more deliberate after he left the hall. He spoke with men at the guardhouse and even those in the east tower since Catrina obviously knew of the sea gate. He’d heard about her pre-dawn visit with Lady Sara, and one could only imagine what the two women had discussed given Catrina’s seduction attempt in the stables.
Anger and anxiety and, little though he wished to acknowledge it, fear thrummed through him. Could she be hiding somewhere on the grounds?
“My lord?” Peter laid a hand on his shoulder from behind. “I’ve been told you’re looking for Lady Catrina?”
Bryce turned. “Aye, do you know where she is?”
Bryce could tell by his expression he did. “Where is Catrina?”
“The lady is with Alfred,” Peter’s greying eyebrows drew together. “Are you quite all right, my lord?”
No. “Fine, Peter, my thanks. What is she doing with the chandler?” But he was already walking toward the building where the candlemaker worked, too impatient to wait for an answer. “Never mind. I have a feeling I already know.”
He’d never met a woman in his life, or man for tha
t matter, who knew so many things. A lady of her stature had no business brewing ale or, if his suspicions were correct, assisting the chandler. Most would never know how to do such things. At first he’d assumed Brockburg had a small staff and utilized its lady out of necessity. But he had come to realize Catrina was not just an extraordinarily quick learner. She also enjoyed working with her hands. Staying busy.
Her confinement must have nearly killed her.
He had mistreated her in so many ways. And though she looked like an angel stooped over the pot of wax, her cheeks reddened from the heat, he found himself raising his voice at her. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?”
He regretted his tone, but she’d worried him, dammit. He’d begun to think something had happened to her. Or that she’d somehow managed to escape.
Catrina turned, calm and untroubled by his question.
“One would think that was obvious, my lord. I’m making candles. You know, the sticks of wax used to—”
“I am well aware of the purpose of a candle, Lady Catrina. But Alfred is a more than capable chandler, are you not, sir?”
Belatedly he remembered the man couldn’t hear two broadswords clanging in battle.
“He is quite capable,” Catrina cut in, “but lacking a staff. Were you aware his apprentice was killed in a wagon accident? And that the man’s replacement ran off with the blacksmith’s daughter?”
It didn’t surprise him that Catrina would know such things. She was incredibly intelligent, yes, but she was also kind. Although she was undeniably a Kerr, she was a good person. A wonderful one.
“Nay, I was not. May I speak to you, Lady Catrina? In private?”
She looked startled. Had he been that harsh with her? Enough for any semblance of kindness to be met with apprehension?
She hung the perfectly formed candle to dry and brushed past him to step outside. Before he could follow her, a frail voice beckoned him.
“My lord?”
He moved closer to the man Catrina had spent the afternoon assisting.
“Yes, Alfred?”
“I am capable. I’ve been supplyin’ candles for Kenshire my whole life, and Lady Sara is findin’ a replacement to assist me. But it was mighty kind of Lady Catrina to help an old man this afternoon.”
The Lord's Captive (Border Series Book 2) Page 18
