Her lips curved. ‘Ash, you are too loyal, he sounded to be a very imperfect Emperor.’
‘He…let us say he had his difficulties.’
Yes, it has been hard for Ash to emerge from this with honour, but he has succeeded. This is a great day for him, and I must not mar it.
He placed his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘I have to admit, it will be a relief to offer my report on Norman troop movements in Apulia to someone who will understand the implications and take action.’
They had come to a stop in front of a wall with a set of double doors in it.
‘Where are we?’
‘Katerina, welcome to my home.’
‘Your home!’ The doors opened and Katerina found herself in a courtyard.
The house had three stories and was framed by tall cypresses; steps led to a columned portico and another set of double doors. Through these doors she glimpsed a tiled floor, an arched arcade, a flight of stairs…
‘It’s a palace!’
‘Hardly.’
She stared at him. ‘I thought you lived in the barracks.’
His expression was enigmatic. ‘Not all of the time. I have made this my home, I am glad you like it.’
‘It is lovely.’ Ash must have built it with prize money he had earned over the years, Katerina realised, prize money and pay. She had known that some of the Varangian Guard were wealthy, but until this moment she had no idea of the riches that could be made by commanding the company.
The entrance hall was wide, the tiles marble. Daylight was coming through an arch in a central courtyard; she could see a slight flickering. It was a moment before she realised what it was. ‘There’s a fountain!’
A servant ran up, and it was then that Katerina noticed a knot of people in one of the doorways. Here were more pleased smiles and, she thought, some curiosity. As she stepped nervously inside, she received the distinct impression that these people had passed the last few hours as anxiously as she had done.
‘Welcome back, Commander.’ The servant—or was he a slave?—took Ash’s helmet and arms with a smile that spoke loudly of his affection for his master.
‘I see the good news has arrived before us,’ Ash said.
‘Yes, sir. I have taken the liberty of laying out your dress uniform upstairs.’
‘Thank you, Manuel.’
Clearly delighted at the night’s outcome, Manuel bowed and carried Ash’s arms up the stairs.
Hrodric came in and went straight to the audience in the doorway. ‘Don’t you have work to do? Hera, is breakfast prepared? There will be extra mouths to feed, two children are arriving here shortly. And you, Michael, get back to the stables, there will be a parade later. The harness needed mending the last time I looked.’
‘Children?’ Katerina touched Ash’s hand. ‘You have sent for Daphne and Paula?’
Ash gave a careless shrug, but he was anything but careless, he was watching for her reaction, skin darkening. ‘Thought there would be no peace unless I did. Come, if we hurry, I may show you around.’ He drew her hand through his arm, so her fingers rested on the sleeve of the tunic showing beneath his mail coat. Outwardly she was calm, inwardly her mind was a seething froth of questions.
Why has he brought me here? And the children? He is a kind man and he has brought the children to please me—on what terms does he expect me to stay?
After giving Katerina a brief glimpse of a well-ordered household, Ash escorted her to a spacious bedchamber at the top of the first flight of stairs. From a corner, a brazier threw out a warm glow. The walls were painted with a frieze of a distinctly masculine nature; there were chariots and—she might have known it!—horses. Black horses, greys, chestnuts—their tails and manes flying as they galloped round the walls. The shutters and window hangings were open, sparrows were chattering in a nearby plane tree, wheels rumbled out in the street.
There is no need for Ash to tell me to whom this chamber belongs.
In the centre of the bed lay the red dress uniform of the Commander of the Varangian Guard; the gold braiding was as elaborate as any she had seen at the Palace. A jewelled cloak fastener winked up at her from a circular cloak.
On a side table, a bronze basin was waiting next to a steaming ewer of water and a neat pile of drying cloths. Katerina set her enamelled casket next to the ewer and went to look out of the window.
‘The mist has almost gone, I can see the Palace quite clearly from here. Ash, those stables alongside the villa, are they yours?’
He came to stand next to her in the window, winding an arm about her waist. ‘Yes.’
She leaned against him and pulled a face. ‘I thought Caesar was your only horse.’
‘Actually—’ he kissed the side of her head ‘—I have several.’
‘Several!’ She glanced at the frieze and shuddered.
‘I like to race.’
‘Didn’t you say that was how you injured your leg? Hasn’t it put you off?’
‘Not a bit of it, I love horses.’
‘I cannot like them.’
‘Katerina…’ Ash stared at her profile, at the long lashes framing those beautiful eyes. He knew, beyond shadow of a doubt, that she still had her secrets, and he wanted—no, he needed her to reveal them. Her lack of trust was more than merely galling, it had become a chill in his chest, a cold dread in his guts. Would she never trust him? If she could not learn to trust him, they had no future together. If that was the case, he must accept it and move on. The thought made him sick at heart. ‘Tell me your thoughts.’
She laughed and avoided his gaze. ‘I was thinking how different we are, in so many ways. I shall never like horses.’
‘I promised you riding lessons,’ he murmured, maintaining a neutral expression to cover a shocking and not altogether welcome realisation. I love her! He cleared his throat. ‘I am certain if you learned to ride, your confidence would grow and you would come to love horses as I do.’
‘You promised a Princess riding lessons,’ she said, in a small voice. ‘I am not a Princess. In any case, I doubt that even you will be able to help me overcome my fears.’
Ash found himself wondering what they were really talking about. Tread warily, Ash, or you may lose her. ‘I want to try. Won’t you let me help you? Katerina?’
Ash pulled her round to face him. A small hand came to rest on his chest, he enfolded it in his. Desperate need was clawing at his insides, but he must conceal it from her, she must not feel coerced in any way. She was so tiny, she barely reached his shoulder. Take care, Ash, take care. Lord, I love her. I cannot let her go!
‘Ashfirth, I must thank you for sending for the children.’
‘It is my pleasure.’
She glanced frowningly at the horses racing along the frieze, completely unaware that at some point during their journey from the Treasury, her veil had slipped. Beneath it her hair was unwinding in glossy silken tangles. She had a smudge on her chin, a tear in her gown and…she had never looked more beautiful.
His heart constricted. I want her. For ever. I cannot let her go. I will find a way to keep her.
Smoothing a strand of hair from her brow, he took a steadying breath. Sometimes, when she looked at him…he was not altogether certain that the real prize was beyond his reach. Never consider defeat…
‘Katerina, there is something I would ask of you.’
She gazed up at him, eyes shadowed. ‘Yes?’
‘I have asked it before, you will have to forgive me, but I but I must ask again. Will you marry me?’
She jerked her head to stare fixedly out of the window, gently he brought it round to face him—he had to see the slightest shift in her expression.
Her eyes were glassy with tears. ‘I cannot.’
‘You are married?’
‘No.’
‘Will you not tell me why you will not marry me?’
‘I…I…it would not be fitting.’
Ash didn’t understand. Not fitting? ‘Is
your refusal in some way connected to the Princess? Are you protecting her?’
‘It does not concern the Princess. Please, Ash, I cannot marry you.’
‘You are decided on that?’
‘It would not be…fitting.’
‘Very well, I shall accept that answer, for now. But this I will ask.’ He gripped her hands. ‘This is my home, and if you are prepared to consider a less…orthodox arrangement, I was hoping you might care to share it with me.’
A tear slipped out and rolled down her cheek. Carefully, he wiped it away.
‘As…as your lover?’ Her mouth trembled.
‘If you please. The barracks are not the best place when a man and a woman—’ Ash pressed his body more firmly against hers and searched for the green flecks in her eyes ‘—have a…warm liking for each other.’
She sniffed.
He hid a grin. It was a most unladylike sniff, but she was considering his proposal. Her brows were drawn, but, yes, she was considering it.
‘A warm liking, Ash?’ she murmured.
His smile wavered. ‘You don’t agree?’
She shook her head, her veil slipped a little further and her lips began to curve. ‘Not a warm liking, Ash. A hot one.’ Her words were bold, but the eyes looking up from under those lashes were disarmingly shy. She lifted her mouth to his.
‘Scorching,’ he muttered.
And then he was kissing her, pressing his lips to hers. He wanted to taste her, he must taste her…it was a struggle not to devour her because she was pushing that slight body against his, and then at last she was opening her mouth so their tongues might begin their slow, seductive dance.
Relief raced through him, mixed with the most intense rush of lust Ash had ever felt. With the scent of musk and roses filling his head, and the taste of her on his tongue, it was hard to stay standing. He gave her lower lip a last soft bite and raised his head. ‘We are agreed, then—you will stay here as my lover?’
‘For a time.’
For a time—what the hell does that mean? Before Ash could demand an explanation, she was speaking again.
‘Ash, there is one condition…’
‘Oh?’
‘The horses will have to go.’
‘The horses?’ He drew his head back. ‘You can’t mean—not Caesar!’
She was shaking, and for a heart-stopping moment Ash thought he had lost her. Then he heard a smothered laugh; she was pointing at the frieze running round the bedchamber.
‘The frieze?’ He relaxed. ‘That can easily be changed. You may have flowers, vines, whatever you wish.’ He slid his hand round her neck and pulled her close, so he could rest his forehead against hers and look deep into her eyes. ‘Lord, I thought I was in real trouble, I thought you meant Caesar must go.’
‘Would I dare? But I would like that wall painting reworked, I do not find it restful.’
The green flecks in her eyes were very bright, her pupils were black as night, and if Ash had not delayed too much already—his negotiations with General Alexios were imminent!—he would tear off her clothes. He wanted to seal their agreement in bed. Later he would persuade her to become his wife. Never consider defeat.
‘Your expression was priceless, Ash, priceless.’
He kissed her nose. ‘As are you to me. My love, you are a woman above price.’
Her eyes slid away.
Now what have I said? Just as I begin to make headway, she is shying away. What is the problem? It concerned her dark past, and whatever it was, he must get it out of her before she decided her time with him had come to an end. It would be proof of her trust in him and if he could not win her trust, he would have the devil of a job getting her to marry him.
Pushing her veil aside, he nuzzled her ear and cupped a perfect breast with his palm. He groaned. In the meantime there was this…this heat between them. If only he had more than a few moments. His blood was hot, he ached to lose himself inside her. The thought of those small limbs wrapping themselves around him, clinging to him… Damnation! How does one woo a woman when you are in chainmail and you have run out of time?
He was manoeuvring her towards the bed before he realised what he was doing.
General Alexios!
Lord, how was a man to think with Katerina in his arms?
‘Ash?’
‘Mmm?’
‘Did you see anything of Lady Anna or William?’
He lifted his head, determined to quell the desire pulsing through him. ‘Not since I saw them by the Milion. I have made enquiries, but there has been no trace of them.’ He hesitated to say more, he did not want to worry her.
‘Ash, what is it?’ Importunate fingers tugged at his sleeve.
‘It is possible the Frank has run away.’
‘Oh, no.’ Her voice was confident. ‘That will not have happened.’
‘You think not? If I were in his shoes, I would use the chance to escape.’
‘William won’t do that, he will keep Anna safe.’
Shaking his head, Ash finally managed to tear himself from her. Unbuckling his sword belt, he dropped it on to the bed.
‘Help me off with my chainmail, will you? I have to change quickly. Unless you would rather I called for Hrodric?’
‘No, I should like to try.’
Ash bent almost double and stretched out his arms. ‘It is rather awkward, but if you take hold of the mail by the shoulders and yank like fury, we should manage it.’
She grunted and heaved, and Ash backed away, and between them the chainmail clattered onto the floor. ‘Saints, that’s heavy!’ she said.
Shrugging out of his leather gambeson and tunic, Ash moved to the ewer, poured some water and began to wash.
She followed him, and out of the corner of his eye he saw her frowning at her jewel box. ‘Ash…I would like to go to the slave market again. When everything is back to normal, will you accompany me?’
‘If you wish.’ He splashed water on his face, she handed him a towel.
‘Ash, do you own slaves?’
‘No.’
Her face relaxed. No, it was more than that, she looked like someone from whom a great weight had been lifted.
Slaves, her secret shame is in some way connected with slavery.
Just then, she slid her hand down his arm—it was a caress, a definite caress. A caress which prompted a heartening thought. Katerina is not a girl who gives her caresses lightly. Ash felt a tightening in his groin. In truth, this was the first gesture of affection he could recall that she had initiated.
Progress.
When she leaned towards him and kissed his biceps, blood flooded to his loins. Her veil tickled his chest. ‘That is as it should be,’ she murmured.
Gripping the towel, Ash stared down at her. He had gone hard as a rock. Her nearness, the scent of roses, that tentative gesture, the warmth in her dark eyes—the effect was all too inevitable. Lust was clouding his senses, but beneath the confusion there was a glimmer of understanding…
Slaves. Katerina is…there is some connection with slavery.
The world seemed to tilt.
Could it be that she was once a slave? Princess Theodora’s slave?
Katerina was once a slave! As he looked at her, he realised that at last he knew her secret. She had been a slave.
‘I wonder how many slaves this will free?’ she was saying. Opening the casket, she drew out a golden collar adorned with lapis lazuli. ‘Ash, how much do you think this collar will fetch?’
He covered her hand with his, and the collar rattled back into the casket as her fingers twined with his. ‘You are an extraordinary woman, do you know that?’
‘What, for wishing to help slaves? I suppose you think I am ridiculous.’ She attempted to pull free, but he tightened his grip.
‘Not at all, love, on the contrary.’
Perhaps she still is a slave! Think, Ash, think. You first saw her in a convent for fallen women. Is she a fallen woman? She had certainly been no innocent
when he had bedded her among those mulberry sheets.
‘Katerina, does the Princess own you?’
Katerina choked—his soft question had turned her blood to ice.
He knows!
His thumb was slowly moving across the centre of her palm and he raised an eyebrow, looking at her through turquoise eyes that pierced her to her core.
‘I think you heard me, my love, your cheeks have gone white as bone. Does the Princess own you? Are you a slave?’
His smile was understanding. Katerina’s heart began to hammer. She had begun to shake her head, but something in his quiet watchfulness gave her pause. It made her watchful, too; it helped her to see him with new eyes.
Ash seemed startled by his realisation, but he didn’t look the least bit shocked. Nor did he look revolted. The idea that he had set a slave up as mistress of his household did not appear to appal him, his thumb had not stopped calmly caressing her palm.
She had come to know his expressions and his expression at this moment was…enquiring. Slightly surprised. Full of compassion. She looked down at their linked hands, at the slow and easy movement of his thumb on her skin. His hands…so gentle…always gentle.
Ash looked as though he was interested in her response—behind that there was something else, something Katerina dared not identify, something that she hoped she had not misunderstood.
I have found a man I might trust. Holy Virgin, do not let my resolve fail.
‘I was a slave.’ She stared at the floor, her lips so stiff, she had to push out the words. ‘Princess Theodora bought me.’ Suddenly, it was as though a great barrier had fallen and the words poured out. ‘I was a child when my father sold me. Some years into my slavery, Princess Theodora bought me. She freed me at once, and trained me as her maidservant.’
Strong fingers gripped like a vice. ‘Your father sold you?’
Now he did sound appalled. She lifted her gaze to his. His brow was deeply furrowed, he was white about the mouth.
Taking her by the waist, he dragged her to him. ‘Your father, Katerina?’
‘Yes.’ Ash is angry, but not with me, he is angry with Father…!
Heart lifting, she put her hands on his shoulders. She was absurdly conscious of the strong muscles in his arms and chest, of the sprinkling of dark hair arrowing downwards. She could smell his scent, the masculine scent that was Ash was mixed with the scent of rosemary in the soap.
Bound to the Barbarian Page 24