by Sarah Hegger
“Roger?” Beatrice raised her head from Garrett’s shoulders. Her eyes were red and swollen.
She ran to him and he held her.
The dead pain inside throbbed, but unlike Bea, the tears to relieve the building pressure would not come. He handed her back to Garrett and went to his father.
Sir Arthur looked like a man broken. Head bowed, he and Lady Mary clung to each other.
Why had Henry done this stupid thing? The need to pound something wrenched through him. They had all told Henry not to go. Not to fight a fool’s war in a strange land. Bloody, bloody, bedamned, accursed Henry.
Roger gripped the mantle so hard his fingers throbbed. The pain felt good. A real connection in a world gone mad.
“We must go to London.” Father ran his hand over his eyes. “They will know more.”
“I will do it.” He had to do something. Anything. Roger wanted to strike out and strike out until blood coated his fist. “You stay here, and take care of mother.”
“I can go.” Garrett glanced up.
“Nay.” This task fell to him. Son and heir, oldest sibling, and the one who needed to hold them all together before they shattered. This was his duty. “Bea needs you.”
“What of Kathryn?”
A good question. He did not even know where his wife slept. He knew that she did not stand beside him. “You will watch her for me?”
“Aye.” Garrett led Bea to her mother and approached him. “I will make sure the rest of the family know. Leave matters here with me and go with God, Roger.” He dropped his voice until only Roger could hear. “If they found no body, there is still hope. Go and see if you can find it. Bring the truth back as fast as you can.”
Roger’s words jammed in his throat. He thumped Garrett on the shoulder.
“As for Lady Rose, I have a plan.” Garrett drew him further away from the others. “I will send Newt about it once he is rested. The lad needs something to keep him busy, and I do not want to leave Bea while she is so close to having her baby.”
Life stopped for nobody. Trouble did not wait to arrive on their doorstep in neat turns. The weight of his responsibilities pressed heavy on his shoulders as he gathered a few things he would need and made his way to the stable.
Even the stables lay quiet, as if the horses somehow sensed the pall that hung over Anglesea. Roger took Beast out and saddled him.
“Roger?” A woman came out of the shadows.
Kathryn! Seeing her walk toward him made the pain unravel enough for him to draw his first clear breath. She drew nearer. He craved the scent of wildflowers that clung to her skin, the way her hands carried the calluses from too much riding and sword wielding, the innate grace, and indomitable strength of her. Inside, he cried out for her. Comfort.
Nay, not Kathryn but Mathilda and looking enough like Kathryn in her nightrail for him to mistake them.
“What are you doing here?” He did not have it in him to watch his words. Disappointment made them even brusquer.
“Cook told me what has happened.” Matty held out her hands to him. “I am so very sorry.”
“You should not be her.” He did not want the touch of her soft, gentle hands. Releasing her grasp, he shrugged and turned back to Beast. He did not want her here. He wanted Matty to change into Kathryn, so he could share his grief over his brother. Henry was missing, believed dead.
“You should not be alone,” she whispered. “Not when you have lost a brother.”
He staggered under the force of the emotion inside him, leaning against Beast to right himself.
Henry, the only brother born flaxen haired. So like their mother that they had teased him about his “girl” face and “pretty” eyes. Roger pressed his forehead into Beast. To never hear the droning lectures on piety and temperance. Never again to see the way Henry’s lips pursed in disapproval. God, how he had railed at those parts of his brother. Now, he would give his sword arm to have them back again.
Beast shifted, nudging his shoulder.
Henry with the light of battle shining from him. Passionate about some wrong he needed to right or slight he felt compelled to avenge. Henry and his blasted, sodding honor. An example to every lesser man around him. All gone.
Matty touched his back. “I will tell Kathryn when she wakes.” Her arms slid around him from behind, and she pressed into him. “I will pray for you and Henry.”
He throbbed for the soft touch of a woman, and Roger stayed like that. Letting the press of her breasts against his back soothe him in some elemental way.
She smelled wrong.
He did not ache for any women. He ached for his woman.
Roger loosened her arms. “Tell Kathryn where I have gone.”
* * * *
Kathryn had barely fallen asleep before Matty shook her awake. “Kathryn, wake up. You must get up.”
A bright day made her snap her eyes shut again.
Matty shook harder. “Kate, you dare not sleep any longer. Roger has already left without you.”
“Roger has left.” Sleep vanished and she sat up. “Where has Roger gone?”
“Now you ask.” Matty shook her head and put her hands on her hips. “You should have been at your husband’s side, and now it is too late.”
Kathryn dragged her thoughts into order. “Why should I have been at Roger’s side?”
Matty rose, adjusted her skirts—another of Kathryn’s new dresses—and sighed. “Get up and dressed, Kate.”
Kathryn scrambled out of bed, but Matty left, closing the door behind her.
She had no clothes in this room. After snatching up her bed robe, she pelted down the corridor to her and Roger’s chamber. Surely, she had not understood Matty correctly and she would find Roger still abed, or readying himself for the day.
Nurse rose from her seat by the fire.
“Where is Roger?” Kathryn searched the chamber, knowing he was not in there, but hoping all the same.
“There you are.” Nurse straightened her back. As she drew nearer, Nurse’s red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks made Kathryn’s heart stop.
“What is it?”
“I came to bring you some more salve for your bruises.” Nurse shuffled closer with a pot held out. “When I did not find you here, I thought I might wait.”
“What has happened?” Kathryn wanted to wrap the older woman in her arms, but Nurse seemed remote in her strong emotion.
“Why were you not in this chamber?” Nurse uncapped the pot with her gnarled fingers.
Kathryn shed her robe and nightrail. “Roger and I had cross words last night. I slept with Matty.”
“Silly wench.” Nurse rubbed salve onto her bruised ribs. “You should never let your bedchamber become a battleground.”
“Matty said Roger left.” The cold salve caused her breath to hitch.
Nurse moved to her other side. Her voice heavy, she said, “Aye, he rides for London to see if he can discover more.”
“Nurse.” Kathryn caught her hands. “Please tell me what has happened. I woke moments ago to the news Roger has left.”
“And you thought he left you? Not our Roger.” Nurse clucked her tongue, but returned Kathryn’s grip with a squeeze. “We have had some sad news. Faye and Gregory will be arriving soon I would guess, and William and Alice not far behind them. The family gathers.” Tears streamed down Nurse’s cheeks.
“Nurse.” Distance be damned. Kathryn wrapped her arms about Nurse’s stout shoulders. “Tell me.”
“It is my Henry.” Nurse’s voice hitched on a sob. “They say he fell in battle, and now he cannot be found.”
Kathryn burned to ask if he lived, but it did not seem kind, so she waited.
“At best we can hope they will ransom him. At worst…” Nurse eased out of her clasp. She shook her head and sniffed. Using her apron, she wiped her eyes and cheeks. “As long as there is hope, however slim, I will pray for a miracle.”
“
Roger goes to see if there is more news?” Roger had not left her, but she should have been by his side as he received this awful news. Had she not heard him speak of Henry with such love? Along with the rest of the kingdom, she had heard of the conditions captured men on pilgrimage suffered. Seen the scars from horrendous wounds earned both in battle and in prisons. “You said they did not find him?”
“They did not find the body.” Nurse finished with her and recapped her pot.
“Then that could mean he escaped,” Kathryn said.
Nurse straightened her shoulders. “It could mean many things, my girl. Some of them good, some of them awful, but until we know more there is no purpose to making stories in our heads.” She grabbed Kathryn’s chemise and shook it at her. “Come, get dressed and go to the hall. My lady needs all her family about her now.”
Chapter 28
Kathryn slipped into the hall and stood near the door.
Lady Mary, dressed and outwardly composed, sat by the fire, her needlework on her lap, and stared at the fire. Sir Arthur sat beside her and murmured to her, his hand clasped about hers.
Opposite them, Beatrice huddled with her head on Garrett’s shoulder and listened to Sir Arthur.
Despite what Nurse said, Kathryn hated to intrude on their grief. She hesitated, not sure of her place.
“Lady Kathryn.” A tall, broad, flaxen-haired man approached her. “I am Tom. Ivy and I came as soon as we received word. We attended your wedding.”
Kathryn nodded and took his outstretched hand. She did not remember the man, or the Ivy of whom he spoke, but then her wedding day still blurred in her mind.
A beautiful woman with dark hair pressed a mug of something into Lady Mary’s hand.
Lady Mary smiled her thanks and placed the mug against her armrest.
“That is Ivy,” Tom said. “She is doing what she can.”
Lady Mary caught sight of her, and held out her hand. “Kathryn. Dear girl, come and join us.”
Pale as parchment, Lady Mary remained as serene as ever. She smiled as Kathryn walked toward her, but her smile stopped short of her grieving eyes.
Obeying her instinct, Kathryn hugged her. Lady Mary felt fragile in her arms. “I am so sorry.”
“We retain our hope.” Sir Arthur rose and kissed her cheek. The ravages of grief were much clearer on him.
Beatrice stood. “I must see to the children.”
“Let me go.” Kathryn jumped at the chance to do something. “You stay here with your mother and father. I can take them out to play, if you would like.”
Garrett gave her a grateful smile. “Our thanks. That is very kind.”
Kathryn found the boys upstairs. Edward, the youngest, slept, so she left him and led the two older boys out of the grim, silent keep. Even young Adam stayed quiet in her arms.
Richard took her hand and walked beside her. He stared at her. “Is it true? Is my Uncle Henry gone?”
Kathryn had little to no experience with children. She opted for the truth. “So, they say.” Hand-in-hand they crossed the bailey to the postern gate. “They are not sure…where he has gone, and they fear for him.”
Richard nodded, and slipped through the postern gate.
Briny air brushed their cheeks as they followed the path from the postern gate to the shore below.
“I don’t remember Henry very well,” Richard said. He kicked at pebbles in his path and sent them skittering along the beach. “I do remember he makes good dragon noises.”
Adam stirred to get down, and Kathryn placed him on his feet beside his brother.
“I do not know how to make dragon noises, but perhaps we can build a tower from these stones.” The sea spread out in a calm, deep blue, breaking over the beach in a languid soothing swish and suck. She steered the boys back from the water’s edge and showed them a good flat stone to start their tower.
Richard took control, instructing Adam on finding the right sort of stones. Adam chattered away, his piping voice cutting through the sibilant wash of the tide.
A man called, “Lady Kathryn.”
She turned.
Digory picked across the pebbled ground toward her.
What the hell could he want from her? She had naught to say to the cur.
“Who is that?” Richard shaded his eyes, and Adam copied him.
“A man.” And one she did not want to see today, if ever.
Digory stopped out of sword reach from her. “I heard the news in the village. People have been called to prayers for your brother by marriage.”
Kathryn nodded, not trusting her voice. So much grief for a man she had never met, and yet he felt real to her through the people about her. “What do you want, Digory?”
“I wanted to speak with you.” He shoved his hands into his belt. “I did not want to disturb the keep.”
“Go away.” She turned her back on him. How dare he approach her now, with the keep reeling under bad tidings.
Richard and Adam stopped stacking rocks and moved further along the rocky shore. They squatted beside a small tidal pool.
“Allow me just a moment of your time.” Digory clambered crablike over the rocks to her side. “I shall not keep you long.”
Alone, Kathryn might have given her anger free rein, but the boys could hear them. She crouched beside Richard and Adam. “What do you see?”
“Mussels.” Richard pointed out a cluster of black, shiny shells clinging to the sides of the pool. “They make good eating.”
“I love your sister.” Digory panted closer, slipping on the slick stone. “I would never hurt her.”
He went too far. Kathryn closed the distance between them. “I am minding the children. I have nothing to say to you. Now, go away.”
“One moment.” Digory stood his ground. “One short moment of your time.”
Wind ruffled his brown hair, his gaze held hers, calm and steady. His chin stuck out at a determined angle
She had not the strength to fight him. One of the last things Roger had asked of her was to speak with Digory. “One moment.” She turned to keep watch on the boys. “But I doubt anything you say could change my mind.”
“Thank you.” Digory moved closer to her and lowered his voice. “You know Matty better than I do. You know she was not raised to work on a farm.”
Kathryn shrugged. No Matty had not been raised to be farmer’s wife. Their father had groomed Matty, his pride and joy, to take her place beside the most powerful men in the kingdom. Not some ham-handed lout.
“She was not happy on the farm,” Digory said.
Adam had a stick and poked it into the pool.
“Be careful,” Kathryn called. “You do not want to hurt something.”
With a gasp, Adam dropped his stick.
Richard tugged on his tunic and led his brother to another tide pool.
“Do not go too near.” Kathryn trailed them.
Richard crossed his arms, strongly resembling his father in the stubborn tautness of his shoulders. “I know how to swim.”
“Does Adam?”
“Aye.” Richard scuffed the rock. “A little.”
Kathryn let the matter rest there, and Richard returned to tormenting sea creatures.
“Matty did not like the work on the farm. The animals, the land, the house. She did not know how to do any of it.” Digory stayed his course. She would give him that much. “I tried to teach her but she missed her needlework, and most days, she sat by the window.”
“Matty hates needlework.” Kathryn glared at Digory. He need not think to lie to her.
He shrugged. “I only know what she told me.”
“You should never have married her.” They drew closer to the boys and Kathryn lowered her voice. “You had no right to marry her and carry her away to your farm.”
“You are right.” Digory rubbed the back of her neck. “She is as far above me as the angels.”
If he spouted poetry now, K
athryn could not keep her silent promise to Roger. “Get on with it.”
Digory reddened. “Aye, well, she is, and I should not have thought to take her away from her life. But I loved her. I love her.” He cleared his throat. “And when she told me how matters were, at the keep, with your father. I wanted to save my angel.”
“What did Matty tell you?” The idea of Digory knowing of her shame sickened her.
Digory averted his gaze and cleared his throat. “That he beat her. Sometimes so badly she could not rise from her bed.”
Father seldom raised a hand to Matty. Not since she had shown signs of blossoming into her current beauty anyway. Nay, he saved his blows for her and mother. But Digory did not deserve to know that, so she clamped her mouth shut.
“I believed she would be safer with me. I still believe that.”
“I saw the marks on her.” Kathryn fisted her hands. With the boys playing nearby, perhaps it was fortunate she had left her sword in the keep.
Richard and Adam worked on a new tower just to her left. This one higher than the one before.
“I did not put them there.” Digory spread his hands in front of him. “May God strike me down if I lie. I did not put them there. She fell while milking Dewdrop.”
Kathryn snorted. A likely story.
Digory took a deep breath and launched into a tale of Matty and a cow. She wanted to ignore him, but the more he spoke, the more difficult it became. She could picture Matty refusing to milk the cow. And Matty would object to tying its legs together. Even the words he used sounded like they came straight from Matty’s mouth.
“I raised my voice to her.” Digory dug his fingers into his scalp. “I wish I had not because she is too fragile, and too delicate for a man to speak so to her. But I raised my voice, and then left her. When I came back, she was gone.”
Adam tottered over and tugged at her skirts. He raised chubby arms to be lifted.
“Your moment is done.” Kathryn scooped the boy up.
“We are hungry.” Richard joined her.
“I will wait in the village,” Digory said. “For as long as it takes. I will swear before a priest if you want me to. I never harmed your sister. She is my wife. I love her and I want her back.”