“There are many who would see Geordie knocked from his place of honor,” Geordie’s mother said. “Out of sheer greed, for personal gain, for jealousy. However, one in particular may stand to be considered first: Robert, my husband’s nephew. He is next in line for the barony and would do anything to inherit.”
“Even murder?” Cat prompted.
Lady Strafford narrowed her eyes in a manner that suggested how she felt about the former heir to the barony. “Especially murder.”
Geordie had once thought his apartments within the castle were quite large, especially in comparison to his previous cohabitational stay at court. Now though, as he paced the narrow floor so many times, he’d lost count and it seemed as though the room was becoming smaller with each step.
He’d been locked within them for a full day and night, and it felt like an eternity. The door opened and Geordie rushed to open it, hopeful for any news he could glean, whether the visitor be a servant bringing food, or a guard checking in on him.
It was Sir John’s towering frame that entered and locked the door behind him.
Better still to have one of his brother knights see to him. “Sir John.” Geordie came to attention as any good knight would in the face of so high a ranking knight. “Tell me, if you would please, how does Lady Catriona fare?”
“She does well enough.” Sir John went to the small table and poured two cups of wine.
“I am aware of how the people of court treat those whose secrets have been bared.” Geordie followed Sir John to the table. “Tell me the truth of it.”
“She has loyal friends who see to her,” Sir John said. “Tristan stays by her side despite her obvious lack of interest in wedding him, as do her father’s soldiers, and your mother.” He held a cup in offering to Geordie.
His mother. He accepted the wine. With all the worrying he had done over Cat, he had scarcely thought of his mother. Granted, their relationship was new, only just healing the bond broken between mother and son. But, aye, he would imagine his incarceration would leave her distressed.
“You might have more of a care for yourself, though.” Sir John took a sip of wine. “Everyone says you did it. They all heard you at the feast or learned of what you’d said at the feast. When you slipped away from Lady Catriona’s chambers, it was too coincidental. It happened exactly when the soldiers were attacked, and Sir Gawain was killed. Did you know that?”
Geordie took a sip of his own wine, grateful for the splash of it in his empty stomach. He had not realized the timing had been perfect.
“Lady Strafford is here to see you.” Sir John took another sip of wine. “If you will accept the visit from her.”
Geordie nodded, still too dumbfounded from the blow of news to properly reply.
Sir John put a hand to Geordie’s shoulder. “You are the bravest knight in battle I’ve ever seen. I imagine that will garner loyalty in some. I pray it is enough.” He set his empty cup next to the flagon on the table. “I’ll let your mother in now.”
“Thank you, Sir John.”
The knight clapped him on the arm; thankfully not the one that was still healing after the attack on the trail to London.
Had that truly been only days ago? It felt as though a lifetime had passed since then: one filled with lofty highs and degrading lows. A child had been discovered and claimed in that time, a love declared, promises made for marriage, a mother reunited with her son and now the possibility of a death sentence. How could less than a fortnight carry such impact?
Lady Strafford entered the room and rushed to him with enough haste to send the veil over her dark hair billowing out behind her. When she got to Geordie, she reached out to him, then paused as her hands fluttered with apparent uncertainty as to whether she intended to touch him or not.
In the end, she clasped her fingers together and drew them over her heart. “Are you being well-treated?”
“Aye, Mother.” He set aside his wine and put a hand over her clasped ones. She was icy cold beneath his warm palm. “Thank you for caring for Cat.”
At the subtle touch between them, his mother collapsed against him with a sob. He settled his arms around her, embracing her for the first time he could remember.
Her slender body quaked in his hold, as though all of her was fraught with a chill. He led her toward the large wooden chairs near the fire, but she did not sit.
She drew in a shuddering breath and leaned close. “We are seeking the person who killed Sir Gawain,” she whispered. “We suspect it may have been Robert, your cousin who was to inherit the barony before you were discovered alive and named heir. But it is so hard to find evidence against him. We are asking—”
“Do not.” Geordie released her with a shock of alarm. “Do not place yourself in danger or put the lives of Cat or our child at risk.”
“It was her idea.” Lady Strafford’s face softened. “Oh, my son, she loves you beyond measure. I could not have selected a more perfect woman for you if I had tried.”
“It is not worth the risk.”
“Not worth the risk?” She gaped at him in horror. “We cannot lose you. I think you do not understand how much is heaped against you.”
Geordie ran his hand through his hair and scrubbed the back of his head. “I am well aware.”
“Then you know we must do this.” His mother braced herself on the back of one of the chairs and met his gaze. “For your unborn child and for the woman who will be your wife in only a matter of hours.”
Geordie stilled. “Do you mean the king will indeed allow me to wed Lady Catriona?” The king had said he would, but Geordie had heard nothing more of it. With the trial approaching with such haste, he had begun to lose hope. But now…
“Aye, my son.” His mother beamed up at him. “Within the next several hours.” The joy on her face dimmed. “Your father will be arriving shortly, as well. I do not know that he will make it in time for the wedding, but he will be there for the trial for certes.”
His father. The thought soured Geordie’s stomach as much as it elated his mother. He shoved it aside, however. If he was to wed Cat, he would not let the thought of Lord Strafford sully the moment.
“You must promise me you will stop trying to seek out whoever killed Sir Gawain,” Geordie said to his mother.
At his request, she braced her small feet wide and set her shoulders with the determination of a soldier. “Geordie Strafford,” she said in a voice used by a mother to scold a naughty child. “I was not given a choice when you were taken from me all those years ago. I spent a lifetime under the burden of regret, wondering what I might have done to save you, what I could have done to stop your father. I wondered if I might have gone to Lord Werrick myself, rather than trust your father’s flimsy word.”
She folded her arms across her chest. “If there is any chance to sway the trial and prove your innocence, I will find it. I will not sit idly by and wait for the fates to decide your future. I will not lose you, not again.”
Her tone brokered no room for argument, even though he had many.
“I do not want you getting hurt,” he said. “What you are doing is dangerous.”
“And living in a life of heartbreak is misery.” She relaxed her stance and patted his cheek with her small, cold hand. “I love you, my son. I would do anything for you.”
“Take care of Cat and our child.”
“You will do it better yourself.” She smiled at him with all the love he thought he’d never have. “Now, prepare yourself. You’ll be a groom in only a few hours.” After another embrace from her, she left him alone to prepare for the wedding.
A bath was brought up for him and the king, ever generous, gifted him with a fine blue tunic sewn with gilt thread. But that was not the king’s only gift. Geordie was informed he would be allowed to spend the entire night with Cat, following the private ceremony.
With the trial set for the next afternoon and a stack of evidence against him, it could possibly be Geordie’s last night aliv
e.
25
The armed guard on either side of Geordie was unnecessary. But if being paraded through the castle under escort of two of his fellow knights was what was required for Geordie to wed Cat, so be it.
They made their way through the corridors, past countless courtiers who gawped open-mouthed, like fish sold on market day. Their gossip met his ears, but he did not allow himself to listen. He was to marry Cat, and that was the only thing that mattered to him.
Two additional guards stood on either side of the door to the chapel and opened it as he approached with his unwanted retinue. The priest rushed toward them, waving his hands. “Stop.” The word rang out on the stone walls. “Do not enter this house of God with your weapons.”
Sir John protested, but Geordie did not hear anything that was said after that moment. For there, standing at the altar in a kirtle of blue silk with her hair falling around her shoulders like a cape of gold, was Cat. His Cat.
She took an uncertain step toward him, but he shook his head. He would not have her be surrounded by weapons and war. Not on this day. Instead, he strode forward to her.
A hand pushed against his chest to stop him. Geordie met the withered face of the priest, the same man who had attended him that afternoon to take his confession prior to the marriage.
“Swear by the blood of Christ that you will not try to escape,” the priest demanded. “Or these marauders will fracture the sanctity of this holy place.”
“I swear on everything in this world and in heaven above I will not escape.” Geordie regarded Cat over the priest’s shoulder. “I want only to marry the woman I love.”
Lady Strafford stood beside Cat and covered her mouth with her hand as a little sob emerged from her throat.
Geordie’s mother was not the only person in attendance. Tristan was there, as well as Eldon, Durham and Freya, each of them wearing their finest clothing.
Lord Strafford, for Geordie refused to think of him as “his father,” had apparently not yet arrived. For that, Geordie was grateful. On his wedding of all days, he did not wish to see Lord Strafford.
The priest removed his hand from Geordie’s chest and allowed him to walk to the altar where Cat waited for him. Once he arrived, she threw her arms around him. “I’ve missed you so,” she whispered.
Geordie embraced her slender body. He put his nose to the top of her head and breathed in the sweet scent of roses, savoring her smell and the sheer wonderful feeling of having her in his arms. “I’ve missed you as well, my Cat.”
Someone cleared their throat and they pulled apart. The priest stood at the altar once more, regarding them with a cocked brow. The armed knights were nowhere to be seen, though Geordie suspected they waited just outside the door.
“Thank you all for coming.” Geordie nodded his gratitude to the small wedding party.
Cat put her hand on Geordie’s. Delicate white flowers had been embroidered on the hem of her sleeves, ones that reminded him of those they picked as children at Werrick Castle. The sapphire ring sparkled on her finger. He ran his thumb over the stone, his heart heavy that the gift he’d meant to mean so much more had become this mess.
The priest began the ceremony. It was a swift affair, absent pomp or ceremony. Not that Geordie minded. All he truly cared about were the words forever binding their souls; words that made Cat his wife. There was no feast following the most joyous event of Geordie’s life. Instead, they received the well wishes of their intimate wedding party and were sent out to the armed guards, and marched back to Geordie’s rooms.
Through it all, Cat firmly clasped her hand in his, her head lifted with all the nobility of an earl’s daughter. Together, they ignored the stares and whispers until they were delivered to the door of Geordie’s apartments and finally left alone. They didn’t speak until the key clicked in the lock, then Cat rushed into Geordie’s arms.
“My husband,” she breathed.
He smoothed her hair reverently from her face. “My wife.”
“I have been trying to find proof against Robert, but I—”
He shook his head, cutting her off. “I do not want you endangering yourself or our child. Please, Cat.”
She said nothing and instead simply looked away. Which was all the answer he knew he would get.
“Cat, it’s dangerous.”
She turned back to him, her gaze fierce. “I can handle myself, Geordie.” Her features softened. “Let us not speak of it now. We have this one night…”
She did not say the rest of the words, but she didn’t need to. They had this one night, which might be the only one they shared ever again.
Geordie rested his finger against her lips and shook his head. He didn’t want her to say aloud what they both knew in their hearts. What he did want was this night with her, beautiful and wonderful. The two of them together, sealing the love that had spent a lifetime growing between them.
Without saying anything else, he set about undoing the laces at the back of her kirtle, slowly pulling them free. She watched him as he did so, her gaze roaming over his face as though committing every detail to memory. He did the same, though it was unnecessary. He knew every curve and line of her, from the delicate slope of her nose to the sensual dip at the top of her upper lip.
She had a freckle just beside her collarbone, dotting her smooth shoulder. He had discovered it in the evening when they lay together. He bent and kissed it indulgently. He would do this to her entire body, memorize it as he had her face.
For though they had this night, he knew he had to make it last a lifetime.
However short that might prove to be.
Cat tried to swallow down the knot of emotion lodged in the back of her throat. Geordie’s mouth moved in a slow, gentle caress over her skin as he pulled free the ties of her kirtle and pushed it to her feet. The fading sunlight of the day streamed into the room and melted into the glow of the small fire in the hearth.
Cat drew the hem of her sark up and over her head, standing before him now wearing only her stockings and shoes. This time she was not self-conscious for Geordie to see her naked. Not when he had shown her how beautiful he found her last time.
Geordie knelt before her and helped ease the slippers from her feet first, then untied her stockings and rolled them off her legs. As he did this, he used his body to brace her balance to ensure she did not fall. When he was done, and she stood before him without a stitch upon her body, he bowed his head toward her stomach and whispered something she could not hear. He pressed a kiss just above her navel with such tender affection, it made that stubborn knot of emotion clench even tighter.
His gaze slid up to hers as he got to his feet and let his hands travel up her body in a slow, teasing stroke.
“What did you say?” she asked. “To my stomach.”
“That wasn’t meant for you to hear.” He rested his hand on the swollen bump of her belly. “That is between a father and his child.”
“Then you can tell him or her when they’re born.” Cat hadn’t meant to bring up the future at all, but how could she not? Especially when speaking of it made the reality of a future feel more likely.
“Cat.” Geordie’s voice cut off and his eyes filled with tears. “My God, I love you.”
Cracks splintered through her heart. She shook her head “Don’t.”
Rather than offer a protest, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his lips over hers. She opened her mouth and deepened the kiss with a sweep of his tongue. Pleasure tingled over her skin and made the ache in her heart hum.
She murmured his name as they kissed, and her fingers went to the hem of his fine tunic. Careful of his shoulder, she lifted it off him. He wore nothing beneath, and she let her hands roam over the heat of his powerful body. If she failed at uncovering evidence against Robert, Geordie would die.
His beauty, his spirit, his nearness, all of it would be gone. Forever.
She hadn’t even realized she’d started crying until he brushed a thumb
over her cheek. “Don’t.” He mirrored her wording for the same reason: don’t focus beyond the night. Not on the trial, or the future. Think only of now, of being in one another’s arms and the intensity of the love they shared.
He swept her into his arms and carried her easily across the room to the bed, where he set her gently upon the soft mattress.
“I am going to enjoy this night with you, my Cat.” He worked on the ties of his hose and pushed them down his legs. His erection rose proud and hard, proof of his ardent desire for her.
“I’m going to explore every part of your body.” He crawled onto the bed toward her, his movements lithe and purposeful, like a panther. “Every swell.” He skimmed his fingertips over her breasts.
His touch grazed her nipples and left them standing hard with delight.
“Every valley.” His hand swept lower, past her navel and to the apex of her thighs.
Cat’s gave a shuddering gasp. She widened her legs, desperate for his sensual caresses.
“Every crevice.” A finger dipped inside her.
The subtle pulse of desire leapt to a steady pounding of need. She whimpered and arched her hips against his hand.
“But not only with my hands.” His finger ran over her inner thighs, tempting them further apart with the promise of bliss. “With my mouth and tongue.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he lowered himself to the mattress with his face near her sex. He kept his attention fixed on her and slowly, sensually slid his tongue over her most intimate place.
Cat gripped the blanket beneath her with two tight fists, as though it might keep her grounded even as she seemed to float on a cloud of pleasure. Geordie moved over her with his mouth again, his tongue gliding over her, probing and flicking until she was crying out for release. He grinned up at her, wickedly pleased with himself.
His tongue circled the top of her sex, flexing mercilessly against the most sensitive part of her until her lusty cries turned to a sharp scream and stars danced before her eyes. He continued to lave between her legs until the final waves of her crises calmed and she sank deep into the soft mattress.
Catriona’s Secret Page 20