Gasps resounded throughout the dining hall. Feeling as if she had been hit over the head with a club, Kat raised her dazed gaze to Alex. His eyes held hers in a tight vise that was impossible to escape.
“Kat. To my shame, I failed you. The day we married, I made a sacred vow before God to love, honor, keep and protect you. But in my fear and selfishness, I fled the next day, without thought to what pain my actions might cause you. For that, I am profoundly sorry.”
The hall was deathly quiet, except for the roaring of blood in her ears. Even so, she heard the ring of sincerity in Alex’s voice. It amazed her that Alex, proud and domineering, would debase himself before the court for her. Pain squeezed her chest and her eyes welled with unshed tears. His apology was too late, though. She was not the same girl he left behind; anger had burned away what little of her heart remained after he rejected her. Nothing could replace the emptiness that resided within her heart. Now all she sought was peace.
King Edward slapped Alex on the back. “Well, Sir Alex, that was a most noble apology. What say you, Cousin, shall you accept this repentant rogue’s apology and give him another chance to prove his devotion?”
Kat hesitated. “I accept his apology.” She purposely did not address the last part of Edward’s question.
But the king laughed jovially, missing the significance. “There, Sir Alex. Your lady has spoken and all is forgiven. ’Tis past time you saw to the begetting of your heirs,” he said, turning to smile at Eleanor. “My lady will attest to the joy that children can bring to a marriage.” He held out his hand to Queen Eleanor and she smiled adoringly up at her husband. When she put her hand in his, he raised her to stand beside him while her ladies arranged her skirts.
Eleanor, her smile serene, turned to Kat. “Aye, Lady Katherine, I confess there is no greater reward in this life than giving your husband heirs. Indeed, ’tis a duty most pleasurable.”
The king laughed. Alex smiled good-naturedly. But Kat stood like a poker, her fists clenched, barely holding a smile on her face. Duty was the last reason she would ever give birth to a child. Children should be loved and cherished for their own sake, not begotten for the sole purpose of inheritance, or to acquire more wealth, land, and power.
Alex, his smile firmly in place, reached down and caught Kat’s hand in his and whispered, “Careful, your anger is giving you away. Relax.” Unlike the king, he was not fooled by her grudging acceptance of his apology. She had yet to forgive him and, though she had made a vow to give him a second chance, he knew she would fight him every step of the way.
He unclenched her fist, weaving his fingers through hers. Her hand squeezed tighter at his remark, then relaxed gradually in his grip. Her hand, soft skin and bold strength, felt right in his. He was home at last, and he intended to make Kat see that he was the only man for her. Any other outcome was unthinkable.
The king motioned for the musicians to play and then waved negligently to his court. “Continue on with your merrymaking,” he said and retired with his wife to their private quarters.
After the king and queen departed, lords and ladies left the tables, and servants began clearing off the trestle tables so they could break them down and clear the hall for dancing.
Kat turned to him. “I believe I will retire, also. ’Tis been a long and eventful day. I bid you good eve.”
Alex halted her. His first thought was that Kat was already reneging on her part of the bargain. Then he saw the slight droop in her shoulders and lavender shadows under her eyes.
He was immediately contrite. “Forgive me. You are weary.”
A long black tendril of her hair hung loose from her snood. It grazed her left check enticingly, distracting him. He wanted to wind the silky strand around his finger and tug gently until her lips met his. He contented himself with smoothing it back behind her ear. Grazing the soft skin of her cheek, he felt a subtle tremor.
Alex pulled his gaze back to hers. “Allow me to escort you to our room.”
“Verily, you need not escort me,” she said. “I would prefer to be alone to my thoughts.”
He hesitated, but seeing the fatigue in her eyes he relented. “As you wish.”
Unable to resist, Alex raised her hand to his mouth and kissed the underside of her wrist. He nudged the woolen fabric of her sleeve higher. His tongue darted out, and with a light, teasing stroke he licked the delicate skin he exposed. Her breath hitched. At the slight movement, her full breasts rose up against her tight green bodice, enticing him. Then Kat turned and vanished into the crowd.
Chapter 8
“Rose? Who is that dancing with your brother?” Kat asked two evenings later, despite her best intentions to remain indifferent.
She could not quell the disturbing emotion that rose in her breast as she watched the beautiful, flame-haired woman sway seductively towards Alex. Their hands touched for several beats as they turned in a circle. The woman smiled up at him in blatant invitation, and slowly pressed her voluptuous breasts against his chest before they parted.
What a brazen slut, Kat thought, trembling.
Only two days had passed since their agreement was sealed and Alex was already making a fool of her. She refused to acknowledge her part in pushing him away. At supper she had rebuffed all his overtures to start a conversation by answering his questions with stilted responses.
Rosalyn Harcourt, Lady Ayleston, wore a drab gray over-tunic, and her beautiful copper hair was completely covered by a wimple and veil—the headdress usually reserved for nuns and older widows. “Her name is Lady Elena Chartres. She is a friend of Rand’s,” Rose responded, her bowed upper lip curled scornfully.
So the redhead was Rand’s latest paramour, one of many in a long line of conquests, Kat mused. Brief, meaningless liaisons he conducted because he could not have the woman he loved. Unfortunately, Rand was so adept at hiding his emotions behind the persona of a charming rogue, that she did not think he was even aware of the depth of his feelings. But Kat knew the truth. She read the longing in Rand’s eyes whenever he stared at Rose when he thought no one was looking.
It was easy to recognize loneliness in others when one felt it so deeply inside themselves.
Kat just prayed Rand would realize how he felt about Rose before it was too late. No one was more deserving of happiness than her cousin and her dear friend.
Kat fanned her warm face, a bead of perspiration rolled down her temple. The combination of numerous lit iron chandeliers, overcrowded hall, and stale body odor doused by aromatic perfume did naught to improve her disposition.
The music ended in a crescendo, and as the dance required, Alex grabbed his partner’s waist and lifted her high in the air. The woman clung to him indecently when he lowered her to the ground. Kat clenched her jaw, and her sharp nails dug into her palms.
At that moment an insidious voice whispered in her ear. “They make a striking couple. Do you not agree, Lady Katherine?”
Kat recognized the weaselly voice before she turned. “Sir Stephen, to what do we owe this pleasure?”
Sir Stephen Harcourt was wiry, blond, and below average in stature, so that Kat looked down at him from her superior height. His small, deep-set eyes and pinched mouth were all that kept him from being handsome.
He sneered at her sarcastic tone, undeterred, and nodded towards Alex, who was escorting Lady Elena off the dance floor. “She is quite a beauty and very generous with her favors. Any man would be hard-pressed to resist her. And it looks as if she has chosen your husband to gift next with her generosity.”
Lady Elena leaned against Alex and outrageously rubbed her ample breast against his arm. Cold rage pumped through Kat’s veins, her face blank of all emotion. Before she could give Sir Stephen a proper set-down, Rose intervened.
“Why don’t you crawl back into whatever hole you slithered from, Stephen,” she said, her heart-shaped face contorted with hate. “Your presence is not wanted here. Or better yet, why do you not join Lady Elena, mayhap her generosity will
rub off on you. Oh, but I forgot, everyone knows she already refused you her abundant favors. It would seem Lady Elena has some standards after all.”
Sir Stephen glared at Rose. Though it was not directed at Kat, it made her shiver. Hatred burned in the dark brown depths. “You speak of standards,” he said, his lip curled in contempt. “Those are strange words, indeed, coming as they do from a killer.”
Rose gasped and turned white as the blood drained from her face. Livid, Kat stepped between Rose and Sir Stephen.
“You little worm, have a care whom you slander,” Kat hissed under her breath. “Everyone knows Bertram died when he fell down the stairs in a drunken stupor.”
“That is a lie,” he said hotly. “Aye, he was drunk, but he was never clumsy. And I know for a fact that Bertram went to his wife’s bed that night. As surely as I stand here, somehow Rosalyn had a hand in my cousin’s death, and I shall not rest until she pays for her crimes.”
Kat straightened to her full height and coldly glared down at the shorter man. “That’s Lady Ayleston to you. And if you dare harm Rose in any way, you are a dead man.”
Rose shifted to stand beside her. “You need not defend me, Kat. I can take care of myself. Besides, Sir Stephen’s accusations are not unknown to me. Despite the fact that the coroner’s inquest ruled my husband died by misadventure and a jury concurred, Sir Stephen has never been able to accept the truth. I do believe you have become unhinged in your grief for Bertram, Cousin.”
Sir Stephen stepped toward Rose, raised his arm threateningly, and snarled, “You little bitch. You will regret—”
Fright flaring in her eyes, Rose recoiled.
Kat, her hand reaching for her dagger, stopped in mid-motion at the male voice that interceded.
“Sir Stephen, do forgive me, but ’tis not fair that you should have a complete monopoly on the two loveliest ladies at court. Ladies,” Sir Luc said, nodding to them in greeting, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
Kat turned to Sir Luc in surprise at his timely interruption. He looked very handsome in a wine silk tunic, his long, curly mane shimmering like gold in the candlelight. “Nay, Luc, you are not interrupting. As a matter of fact, Sir Stephen was just telling us he is feeling unwell. He regrets he must leave us and retire early,” she said, not hiding her contempt.
Sir Stephen glared at Kat, but made a short, stiff bow. Then he turned and marched off, rudely jostling Sir Luc’s arm.
Righting himself, Sir Luc said, “What an unpleasant man. What was he saying that made you so upset, Kat? The look on your face was quite fierce.” His own face was filled with concern.
“Naught worth repeating. Sir Stephen has always been a sniveling coward, and I have no desire to discuss him further.”
“As you say, my dear.”
Rose stiffened beside her. “To what do we owe this pleasure, Sir Luc?” she asked.
Her sarcastic question echoed Kat’s own words to Sir Stephen earlier. Kat did not understand why Rose disliked Luc. Now that Alex was back, it was understandable that she might be uncomfortable with his presence. But Rose had disliked Luc from the moment they met. Not that her aversion was unique. Rose had a general antipathy of men not of her own family.
“Actually, I was hoping to speak with Kat. In private, if I may?” Luc added, his question directed to Kat. His eyes glowed with appeal, but his smile appeared sad and resigned.
“Absolutely not,” Rose blurted.
“Of course,” Kat said simultaneously.
Rose looked at her with disbelief. “Kat, you know you do not dare speak to Sir Luc alone. Alex will be furious,” she said, ignoring Sir Luc.
“I’m not afraid of Alex. I can do as I please,” Kat said, indignant.
“Then at least have a care with your reputation. It will not do to be indiscreet.”
“I would never do anything to destroy Kat’s reputation, Lady Ayleston,” Luc assured her. “I simply wish to speak with her for a moment.” He turned to Kat and pointed to the left. “The alcove is in full view of company, yet my words will not be overheard.”
“Very well. Why do you not go ahead and await me there. I will meet you anon.”
Luc nodded in obvious relief. Raising Kat’s hand, he bowed over it and departed.
Kat turned back to her friend and frowned her displeasure. “I don’t understand your animosity towards Luc, Rose. He is the injured party in this whole debacle. Would you have me deny him such a small request?”
Rose snorted. “Obviously you will do as you please, Kat. You have ever been stubborn. But remember, I warned you.” Her ominous tone rang in Kat’s ears as Rose disappeared into the throng.
Kat turned the opposite direction and headed for the alcove. She had no idea what she would say to Sir Luc.
After the initial shock of discovering Alex alive, euphoria had filled her, and Luc had been forgotten. In that brief moment, she easily tossed him aside like refuse from a chamber pot. Naught mattered except that Alex was alive, and he returned to her. But her elation had quickly flickered and died, to be consumed by the conflagration of betrayal’s flames.
Never forget, never forgive. Her family’s motto was emblazoned on her conscience. Nay, she did not forget, nor forgive.
She could not begin to imagine what Luc must be feeling.
Inside, guilt was tearing her apart. Since Alex’s return she had been avoiding Luc. There was naught she could say to him to make the situation easier to bear. She’d made a pact with the devil—a marriage bargain that in order for it to succeed had to remain secret. Therefore, until she was free to marry Sir Luc, she dared not give him hope for a future with her.
All of a sudden, a tall knight in black collided with Kat. Catching her from falling, his scabbard got tangled between her legs in the voluminous folds of her dark red skirts. He tugged on his sword, blushing, but merely succeeded in lifting her skirts to reveal her calves. Kat grabbed her skirts and yanked them free. The knight murmured an embarrassed apology and then retreated hastily.
Kat continued around the edge of the room. Up ahead, she spotted Luc. Torchlight shown on his golden head—his regal features drawn and his sensual lips twisted in sorrow. All of a sudden, Alex cut in front of her and she jolted to a stop.
Alex stared at Kat, helpless not to admire how beautiful his wife looked. She wore a wine velvet tunic, embroidered with gold leaves around the neckline and wide cuffs. The deep color contrasted vividly with her coal black, waist-length hair. A ruby-studded girdle draped her waist, emphasizing her tall statuesque body. A barbette and fillet headdress crowned her head.
Which she tilted now at a defiant angle, as proudly as any queen. Alex kissed her hand in a blatant gesture that declared her his possession.
“Kat, I have been looking for you.” Alex kept her hand in his.
Kat nodded, her body rigid. “Well, look no more. You have found me. How clever you are.”
At his wife’s sarcastic wit, Alex smiled, albeit a stiff smile that promised retribution. His gaze alighted on Sir Luc standing in the alcove behind him, and then returned to Kat. A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I am afraid I must interrupt you, my dear. I have a compelling desire to dance with my wife,” he said in an even tone, although he was far from calm.
Placing his hand on her lower back, he guided Kat into the heart of the crowd. Despite the barrier of her clothing, heat seeped into his palm and stimulated other regions.
“Would you not rather dance with Lady Elena?” she snapped.
Startled, Alex looked down at her. “Tell me you are not jealous of Lady Elena?” He smiled, pleased at the notion. “She is a shameless flirt and Rand’s lady. I have absolutely no interest in her.” Several courtiers noted their passage, their necks craning, no doubt trying to gauge every bodily nuance and facial expression.
“I’m not jealous. Dance with whomever you please.”
He smiled, unrepentant. “Good, because it pleases me to dance with my wife. You are adorable when you are j
ealous, you know.”
“And you are insufferable.” She frowned, vexed.
“And you are frowning. Smile, my love. We are being watched.”
After a slight pause, her lips lifted in a grudging smile. “For the sake of appearances, I shall smile and be all that is agreeable. But do not let it go to your head. ’Tis but an act to keep the bloodthirsty hounds at bay.”
Alex threw back his head and laughed at her witticism. Several ladies, startled by his spontaneous gesture, turned and smiled as he passed. Kat merely looked at him as if he had lost his senses, along with four years of his life. Funny, but this made him chuckle again.
“I fear the excitement of your escape and ultimate return has finally caught up with you, Alex. Perhaps you should retire early tonight. After what you have been through, no one would blame you.”
“Do I hear a note of concern in your voice, darling?”
“As much as I would be concerned for a lame horse that needs to be put out to pasture, darling.” She smiled sweetly.
“Ah, Kat, I have missed your wit,” he said, and pulled up at the edge of the open area designated for dancing. “Bloodthirsty hounds, indeed.” Alex inclined his head towards the curious eyes directed their way. Several courtiers who danced past craned their heads and stared back at them.
“Shall we let the ‘hounds’ get a whiff of the scent? I would be honored if you granted me a dance. Or would you rather turn tail and take refuge in the garden for a moment’s respite?”
The music slowly ended.
“How crass.”
“’Twas your analogy. I merely took it up and expounded upon it. Well? Which is it?”
“I’m no coward to turn and run. I accept your gracious offer to dance.” Kat held out her hand, feeling trapped already. But the alternative was unacceptable. She did not want to be alone with Alex in a dark, secluded garden. She did not trust herself. His heat, his magnetism radiated through layers of material where his hand pressed her lower back. How would she be able to resist him if he kissed her again?
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