by Gina Black
“Someone ought to protect ye from yerself, Nicky.”
Nicholas gritted his teeth and strode to the tavern, leaving the older man to follow. On top of all else, he could now look forward to a lecture from Henry!
A portly innkeeper greeted him with deference. Nicholas waved aside use of a private room and sat down at a solid oak table.
All morning they had traversed narrow country lanes and major highways to the east of Devizes. If Nicholas had been able to leave Henry behind he’d have made better progress. But without knowing the direction Katherine and the boy had taken, he had no assurance that his search would lead him back to the inn. So Henry had, of necessity, come. And Nicholas had, of necessity, slowed the pace so the older man could keep up. He had not wanted to stop to eat now, but he could see his old friend needed sustenance and rest.
Henry fastened a bloodshot eye on him. “I am not truly settled in me own mind about Mistress Welles,” he began. “We have not spoke on it, and ’tis not for me to express myself…” He trailed off as the potboy brought them two bowls of stew and a warm loaf of bread.
The innkeeper followed behind with two tankards, ale for Henry, and cider for Nicholas, who put a few bits of meat into the wicker basket, then set it on the ground.
“I know’d ye since ye was born. Ye’ve a good heart beatin’ in your chest.” Henry paused to take a draught of his ale. “So I cannot understand what you are doing with the woman.”
“’Tis very simple. She’s the heiress to my estate.”
Henry closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples. “I know’d I should not have gone along with you playing at the Raven. I thought one or two such pranks would be a harmless diversion, and it should have been, until ye went off without me.” He opened his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “But this is different. Kidnapping heiresses is a capital offense here in England. ’Tis not a lawless country like many ye have been to. And ’twill not serve your purpose with the King.”
Nicholas put on his most innocent face. “Kidnap? I simply accompany her to London.”
Henry’s eyebrows rose to a point over his nose. “Ye can say that to yourself, and the magistrate when he asks you, but do not say that to me. ’Tis plain she would not have left her home had it not been for ye. And if anything happens to her or the boy, ’twill be yer fault.”
“Which is why I mean to find them and keep them from harm,” said Nicholas.
“But once found, will ye be taking them back where they belong?”
Nicholas grimaced. “Katherine does not ‘belong’ at Ashfield. Her father is forcing her into a marriage she does not want. And in truth I cannot blame her.”
Henry shook his head and burped. “Finch is a bad’un, to be sure. A crueler lad I’ve never met, and always wanting what is not his. But, Nicky, ’tis not your problem.”
A commotion at the doorway announced the arrival of newcomers. Nicholas looked up as three plumed cavaliers spilled into the room. He’d last seen them at court and recognized them immediately. Hugh Chiverton, the popinjay of the group, gave voluble instructions to the innkeeper, punctuating each sentence with a tap of his cane. Peter Langley stood beside him brushing the sleeves of his scarlet brocade waistcoat, his usual bored expression topped by a white periwig. The last of the three, George Talbot, slouched behind them, yawning into the ruffle of his shirtsleeve.
Nicholas looked down at his own attire. Rumpled from sleep, his shirt hung in disarray. He’d been in such a hurry to be off this morning, he’d not laced his doublet or put on a cravat. He certainly presented a different vision from when they’d last seen him at court.
“Ashton!”
Chiverton spied him before the others. Nicholas put on a smile as the three made their way to his table. Though impatient to find Katherine, he was none-the-less aware of the opportunity they provided to deliver him from Henry’s sermon. He greeted them warmly and agreed to join them in a private room, leaving Henry to finish his meal alone. Perhaps the older man could rest a few moments before they were on the road again.
The innkeeper brought them to a stuffy chamber dominated by a large table. The portly proprietor scurried about arranging benches and stools and throwing open the wooden shutters.
Talbot plopped down in a chair and was asleep in moments.
Chiverton spoke first. “What are you doing in this fine town? Could it be that you’ve received word of Talbot’s grand fête and, like us, are on your way to his estate?”
Nicholas must have looked at him blankly because he continued, “No. I ‘spose not. Ah well. I hear there will be sport of all kinds there.” He cocked a wicked eyebrow. “Talbot’s invited us all to celebrate the completion of his new waterworks.”
“He’s quite excited to unveil his new fountain.” Langley spoke with his usual deliberate elocution. Waving in the direction of the sleeping man he added, “I’m sure if he could rouse himself he’d give you a personal invitation.”
Chiverton laughed. “I understand our liege will be arriving tonight. Just a brief stop on his way to Bath. The Queen has gone for a cure,” he added as an aside while fingering his laced cravat. “With the entertainment we have planned, I’ve no doubt our lusty King hisself will have need of Bath’s restorative waters when he joins the Queen.”
The landlord bustled in, followed by the potboy, both bearing trays of food and drink. They spread the contents on the table with great formality, but Talbot’s loud snoring ruined the fine ceremony.
“What news from court?” Nicholas asked when they’d left.
Chiverton answered. “The Queen has been ill, delirious in fact. Rumor has it she believed herself to have given birth. Charles, in a touching display of husbandly affection, comforted her by telling her she had delivered two fine sons and a daughter. But ’twas a lie.” He took a draught of his ale. “’Tis a pity that the king can beget bastards but not heirs.”
Langley speared a piece of cheese with his knife, and raised it to his mouth. Fixing an eye on Nicholas he said, “Speaking of the King, I understand Charles is none too pleased with you.”
“Oh?”
“He mentioned on at least one occasion his displeasure that”—Langley’s voice lowered several notes—“his dear friend Nicholas had quit London without so much as a by your leave.”
Nicholas cursed silently. He had waited two long months after petitioning the King for the return of his birthright, but Charles, in his characteristic fashion, had been in no hurry to adjudicate the matter. Nor was Nicholas the only noble to petition the King after returning to England to discover his lands belonged to someone else.
Nicholas did not like to wait. So, he’d left the court, only meaning to be gone a few days, just long enough to see Ashfield and discover if it held up to his childhood memories. One thing had lead to another, and now he would have to make it right with the King. He would apologize for his absence and hope no one ever connected the short career of a highwayman named the Raven with Nicholas, the Earl of Ashton. And why would they? No one knew but Henry and Katherine.
Katherine.
Nicholas scowled. He would feel better if she were safe with him. It was time to retrieve Henry and take to the road while there were several hours of good daylight left. And if they did not find her by sundown, they would keep hunting through the night.
Nicholas came out of his thoughts to find himself the subject of discussion. Chiverton spoke to Langley. “Well I think his distraction, along with his state of dishevelment, points to the strong possibility that a new light-o’-love awaits him down the hall.”
Nicholas made a shrug that neither confirmed nor denied his friend’s suppositions. “As you say,” he smiled and rose. “I must be off.”
“Well, join us if you can. You might wish to take advantage of this informal occasion to put your face before Charles,” said Chiverton. “I expect the night’s entertainment will have a mollifying effect on his heart, and he will be all the readier to forgive you.”
Langley
grinned. “And you could always bring your latest light-skirt with you.”
Nicholas restrained the urge to wipe the look off Langley’s face with a well-aimed blow. Without saying whether he would come to the fête, he left the men and rejoined Henry in the common room, impatient to be gone from this place.
* * *
The nightmare played out again, with Katherine as powerless to wake, as she had been powerless to stop the accident when it happened. Frozen in horror, she watched the tragedy unfold with the alarm and dread of someone who knows what is to come.
Lazy clouds floated in a bright blue sky. Birds chirped in the trees. Edward rode the horse he’d just received for his fifteenth birthday.
Her heart swelled at the sight of him, so dashing.
Turning in his seat, he waved to her. He was going to jump the hedgerow. Horse and rider sprang up and hung aloft.
A cry caught in her throat. Her mind screamed ‘no!’
For a moment, she thought they might clear the hurdle, but they had leapt too soon. The horse balked. In a terrifying crash, horse, bush, and rider came together. The heavy body of the horse fell back onto the hard earth, rolling over Edward, crushing the life out of her dearest brother.
They lay, a snarl of bodies, arms and legs at odd angles. The screams of the injured horse and Katherine’s cries combined into a great keening wail that grew louder and louder.
Katherine tried to wrench herself back to consciousness. To escape from the torment of the disaster that had broken her heart and changed her life forever. To wake from the vision of Edward’s shattered body, and the finality of his death. But, instead of ending at this point as the nightmare usually did, her dream continued.
She ran to him, to his twisted body and broken limbs. If she was gentle enough, careful enough, maybe she could put him right, and he would be healed. Life would flow in his veins again. Gazing into his sweet face, she was suddenly afraid. Would he fade away if she touched him, just as the edges of the dream were already fading?
He opened his eyes and smiled at her.
At the shock of their connection, a piercing joy filled her. Like a flower in sunlight, Katherine’s heart opened.
“Edward, my dearest brother. You are not gone!” Tears of happiness ran down her cheeks.
“I am gone,” he answered. “But I have come to speak with you now.”
“Oh, Edward, I have missed you so.”
“I am here, dearest sister, to tell you how sorry I am to have left you alone to deal with our father, and to beg your forgiveness for taking our mother. I have ever been a selfish boy.”
“’Twas not your fault our mother died.”
“I did call to her until she finally came. Nay, Katherine, do not try to minimize my faults. I wish to tell you, I have missed you well, and I love you so very much. I did not tell you that before I died. There was not time.”
“I love you too, Edward. As I always have.”
Tears still streaming, Katherine searched his face. “I do not blame you for leaving me, Edward. Yet, there is a great emptiness now that I have not been able to fill. There is none to care about my lessons, or cheer me up when I am sad.”
Edward smiled. “There is Jeremy.”
Katherine nodded. Edward’s image was already dimming. She reached out to touch him, but he was gone.
She woke to find herself caressing Nicholas’s wool coat. Her heart pounded and her cheeks were wet. Even though it had been a dream, her tears had been real.
Katherine dried her face on the sleeve of her gown and sat up, taking a deep breath of the cool afternoon air. The sun was making its descent. It would be night in just a few short hours. They needed to get on the road soon. She flexed a stiff foot. Sore muscles protested all the way up her leg.
There is Jeremy.
Looking over at her companion, she examined him as if for the first time. His honey-colored hair hung straight to his shoulders, not much different in hue from hers, yet with enough color from the sun to make it appear almost golden.
In sleep, she could see his long, full eyelashes. His skin, although streaked with dust from the road, glowed a creamy peach. She could not imagine he had ever seen a day’s growth of beard. His cheeks were well formed, his jaw firm.
Leaving Devizes, she had told him to come with her as friend or not at all. She had not had a friend since Edward died, and she dearly needed one now.
“Jeremy?”
He rolled onto his back. Shielding his eyes from the setting sun he looked over at her. “Yes, mistress?”
“Are you awake?”
“I am now.”
Katherine felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.
“I think ’tis time you called me Katherine.”
“All right, Mistress Katherine.”
Katherine’s smile broadened. That wasn’t what she had meant, but it was better.
“I should like very much,” she said somewhat shyly, “for us to be friends.”
“I should like that very much too, mistress, uh, Katherine.” He beamed.
“Good.” Katherine’s heart warmed. “I would ask your counsel, friend. What do you think we should now do? And, since you are my friend, you must know that to even suggest one more time we return to Ashfield would make me cross.”
“As your friend, I would not think of it.” Jeremy smiled. “But, I would suggest we find our supper. From the road, I did spot church spires in the distance. If we walk toward them we will find a town or village. The coins you found in the pocket will purchase our dinner.”
“’Tis good advice,” Katherine agreed. Then a thought came to her. “I have known you long, Jeremy Haywood, yet I know little about you. Here we sit together, far from our home. I do not even know if you have a family you leave behind in another village unknown to me.”
Jeremy blinked at her. “What do you mean?”
Katherine smiled. “A mother? Father? Sisters? Brothers? Or are you an orphan?”
“Nay, mistress.” Jeremy looked away and picked leaves off the wool cloak while he spoke. “I am not an orphan. I lived with my mother until she died, and then I came to be groom at Ashfield. I have been on my own since then.” He glanced at her. “Except for your good help, and that of your mother, when I was ill, or needed an injury tended.”
“I am glad to know you do not leave loved ones behind. ‘Twould not make me a good friend to take you from them.” Katherine nodded. “I feel much recovered from the morning. You were right. I was tired and hungry.”
“Aye,” he smiled. “We will find London, and if your cousin is not there, or will not see you, I will take care of you, mistress, and see you do not come to harm.”
Katherine smiled. Gentle relief filled her. It was good to have someone who would help her and not because they would get something in return. It was good to be able to trust someone. She reached over and squeezed his hand.
“I am happy to have you for my friend, Jeremy.”
He smiled, and stood up, pulling her with him. “Shall we continue on, Katherine?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
AS NIGHT ENCROACHED, clouds disappeared into the darkening sky. A chill wind whipped at Katherine’s braid until she tucked it into Nicholas’s cloak. Hunger gripped her belly and set it rumbling in cadence with each step. As they got closer to the church spires, a signpost announced they had found the market town of Marlborough.
The broad avenue offered a choice of eating establishments. Katherine’s mouth watered at a sign displaying a roasted goose. Standing in indecision, she and Jeremy were jostled more than once. Each time her grip tightened on the pocket holding the precious coins. She looked up again at the sign.
“Shall we sup here?” she asked Jeremy.
“Aye,” he smiled. “I do not think I could go another step. We cannot tell out here whether the food be good, so we shall just have to find out.”
Katherine pulled the latch, and they walked inside. The stench of unwashed bodies rose up to greet he
r, turning her stomach. She raised a hand to cover her nose. This tavern was not at all the class of those that they’d been to with Nicholas. She pulled the cloak tightly about her and cast a worried glance over her shoulder at her companion.
“I do not like this place.” She spoke in a hushed tone.
“Nor I,” he admitted quietly, “but eat we must, and our money will go farther than somewhere more grand.” His gaze flitted over the crowded room. “We should draw little notice here.”
Katherine nodded, her sense of practicality assuaging her doubt.
Resting a hand on her shoulder, Jeremy steered her through the boisterous crowd to an empty bench at a rough-hewn table.
Katherine sat down across from a couple locked in embrace. A hot flush ran up her neck to her cheeks, and she wrenched her gaze away. She handed Jeremy their coins.
He gave her hand a squeeze and walked off to purchase their meal.
A gap-toothed man grinned at her from the next table.
She shrugged deeper into Nicholas’s cloak and looked down at her lap. A shiver of apprehension ran down her spine. Without Jeremy by her side, she felt vulnerable and defenseless. They would eat quickly, then leave just as fast.
Fortunately, it was not long before he returned. A dirty serving-maid trailed behind him, bearing meat pies and tankards of ale.
To Katherine’s surprise, the food tasted good, and, for a change, it was venison instead of mutton. Grateful she had not seen the conditions under which it had been prepared, she savored each bite, ignoring the crowd and noise around her.
Jeremy ate without conversing.
Soon, Katherine’s mind drifted off, settling on thoughts of Nicholas. Of the feel of his hands as he reached for her. The way his eyes had searched hers as he drew her into his embrace. The resonant timbre of his voice when he spoke.
The most pleasant thing a man and woman can do together.
Had that been just the night before?
Pulling herself forcefully from memories that were no safer than her surroundings, Katherine looked about. The couple across the table had untangled themselves. The woman giggled shyly and clutched her belly, heavy with child. Uncaring who watched, the man pulled the woman’s breast from her bodice and rubbed her nipple. The woman moaned and smiled.