by Sherry Ewing
Marguerite left, her footsteps quickly fading until Katherine felt it was safe to follow. Not until she was back within the Great Hall did she feel she could let out a deep breath of relief. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. Her apprehension quickly returned when she saw Marguerite linger at the table on the raised dais before she made her way up the stairs, Katherine assumed, to her room.
Riorden came to her side, and she shakily took his arm as he led her to the feast that was now ready. She saw her wine had already been poured into a chalice set at her place. Without thinking of what she had just witnessed, she reached for the cup in order to quench her thirst and calm her shattered nerves.
“Nay, Katherine!” She heard Lord Everard’s voice come into her head.
Before her hand even touched the stem, she saw the goblet being tipped over and watched in fascination as the contents spilled onto the white linen, like a slow moving river of blood. Only God above knew for sure what a ghost had just saved her from.
Riorden’s gaze had drifted to her, but she only mumbled an apology over her clumsiness. But the damage was done to her peace of mind. It was hard to try to enjoy the remainder of the celebration, although it was not for lack of trying on Katherine’s part. Riorden took her onto the floor so they could dance to some of the slower tunes that would not overly exert her. He had been most attentive the entire night, even when the men began drinking something heavier than wine and ale.
Before too long, Gavin and Brianna began saying their farewells, much to Katherine’s dismay. A feeling of sudden panic began to consume her, knowing that her only lifeline to her past life was leaving her. Not until Brianna was about to depart to start her own happily-ever-after story did Katherine realize how much she had been relying on her friend for moral support.
Standing in the outer baily with her sister of her heart held close in her arms, Katherine gave the younger girl one last hug before she stepped back and held her at arm’s length. Reaching up, she cupped Brianna’s face and gave her a weak smile. “Be happy, Brie,” she whispered softly, trying to hold up the happy façade she had plastered on her face, and trying her best not to crumble.
“I’ll see you again soon.” Brie assured her.
Katherine could only give her a brief nod before Gavin came and assisted Brianna onto her horse. She had an uncanny premonition that it would be a long time before she saw her friend again. Despair settled around her heart like the darkest demon consuming the human soul. Watching their party leave Warkworth, she kept her gaze focused on the barbican gate, even after the portcullis began to lower, watching her dearest friend ride away with her new husband.
She waved off Riorden’s concern and felt his hand giving her a squeeze. It was almost as if he silently told her everything would be all right. Katherine knew better. Needing to be alone, she excused herself and went up onto one of the battlement walls. It didn’t take long before she saw the dust settle back into place, leaving no trace that Brianna had ever been there.
Not wanting to fight the feeling as exhaustion at last took its toll on her, she decided to lie down and rest. At least within her own chamber walls, she could feel safe and secure. She needed the comfort of finding some sort of solace that had evaded her during the daylight hours. Yet, she would only find her worst nightmare that would return to haunt her this eve. For in her sleep, Katherine shivered with dread as the mists of Time came and took back one of its own...
Chapter 19
Marguerite smirked as she observed Katherine’s absence from the celebration. She was glad for it ’til she overheard one of the ladies who attended Katherine mention the current Countess of Warkworth was with child. With child! Was it just dumb, blind luck that continued to mar her miserable life? Wasn’t it enough that her dead husband tormented her whenever she tried to live some kind of normal existence here at Warkworth? When would something go her way for a change?
Mayhap that time was now, she mused with a smile, noticing how the revelers continued to take cup in hand and be merry. That they did so was not out of the ordinary, since a wedding celebration could go on ’til the early hours of the morn. What made Marguerite extremely pleased was that Riorden had not retired to join his wife.
Seizing the opportunity that presented itself so nicely, Marguerite went to a nearby table, arranged several cups on a tray and poured draughts of whiskey into each of them. Ensuring that she was unobserved, she reached for the vial, pulled out the stopper, and watched as one small drop dripped into one of the cups.
She bit her lip in indecision if this would be enough, for it seemed like such a paltry amount to have the effect she desired. She was about to pour another into the cup she would offer to Riorden when Warin’s words came back to her. Better too little than for Riorden to end up like his father. She would not make the same mistake twice.
Taking the tray in hand, she balanced it carefully with a feeling she had tried this once afore and failed. But she was determined more than ever that the time was right, so she pressed forward towards the large hearth where Riorden stood with several of his guardsmen.
“Something to drink, good sirs?” she murmured with a welcoming smile.
She rotated the tray when eager hands reached for the cups ’til only one remained. She attempted to not appear anxious as Riorden took the intended cup in hand.
“Playing servant, Marguerite?” he jeered with a smothered laugh. “I would think this was beneath you.”
She gave a careless shrug, as if his words did not hurt her feelings. “I was just trying to help.”
Marguerite left the men standing there ’til one of the guards, Ulrick she thought his name was, raised his goblet in a toast to the bride and groom. From the dim corner, she stood in the shadows watching as, along with the rest of his men, Riorden downed the contents of his cup. She almost clapped her hands in glee but subdued the impulse. Now, all she had to do was wait...
* * *
Riorden passed his hand through his hair, even as he tried to focus on the words Nathaniel and Aiden were discussing. He had not thought he had drunk so much that ’twould cause him to become this inebriated, but he must have been wrong. He needed to make his way to his chamber afore he passed out. If he were to do so in front of his men, he would never hear the end of it.
“I will retire,” he said to his men. He thought they made a joke about him not being able to handle his whiskey, but any thought of returning their pun was ignored as he made his way to the stairs.
His vision began to blur and he stumbled whilst he made his way to his chamber. He felt a hand of support come to wrap around his waist to assist him. Looking down, he saw Marguerite looking at him with soft, doe-like eyes.
“Are you unwell, Riorden?” she whispered gently. “Here, let me help you to your chamber.”
He mumbled some kind of response although his tongue and mouth were dry. His skin felt as if ’twas on fire, and the desire to lie down underneath the cool coverings of his bed was the only thought he had on his mind. His head began to spin as he felt the edge of the bed against the back of his legs.
“Let me help you with your boots, Riorden,” came the silky tone of the woman, who gave him a subtle nudge so he all but fell on the bed. He rubbed his eyes when he gazed down at her hair and saw the black tresses transform into the tawny colored locks of his wife.
“Katherine, my love, come to bed with me,” Riorden slurred, barely noticing her shoulders flinch as she took off one boot and then the other.
“’Tis exactly what I had in mind, my dear husband.”
Her laughter rang sweetly in his ears, even though something seemed out of place that he could not grasp. Pulling his tunic over his head, he felt her helping him with his hose as he at last lay down on the softness of the feather mattress. Moments later, he felt the silky flesh of his naked wife come to lie atop him as he wrapped his arms around the woman, bringing her full length against his warm body.
“Love me, Riorden.”
“
I do, Katherine, for all time will I love only you,” he murmured against her neck.
He heard her laughter again and was unsure what there was to jest about at a time when he was about to make love to her. Any other thoughts he may have had left him abruptly as he felt his eyes begin to roll back into his head. The last thing he remembered with any clarity was hearing a snarl of outrage from the woman at his side.
* * *
Marguerite just could not believe what she was seeing. Asleep! How the bloody hell could he pass out on her just as she was finally about to get everything she wanted? A soft snore passed his lips as he rolled onto his side, followed by him murmuring his wife’s name. Damn Katherine’s soul to hell! How she hated that atrocious woman!
Angrily, she rose from the bed only to stand there with her hands on her hips, staring at the man who had all but consumed her every waking thought. Perchance, she still might salvage something of the situation that she had so carefully arranged.
She began picking up their clothes and neatly folded them. Taking a small sip of wine, she gazed around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. Aye, it appeared as if everything was normal for a couple living together as man and wife. Smiling in satisfaction, she climbed back into bed and snuggled against Riorden’s back. She would ensure that matters between them were set aright come the morn. No doubt, with the rising sun, Riorden would thank her for her cleaver scheming just so they could at last be together.
Chapter 20
She immediately knew that something was terribly wrong when she woke up alone in their bed. Her bare feet practically flew down the passageway until she came to a door that appeared before her. Her heart hammering in her chest, she stared sightlessly at the wooden door blocking her way from the one she sought. She didn’t want to find him here of all places, nor did she want to enter this particular chamber. But she had no choice in the matter and knew she must for her own peace of mind.
She reached for the handle, noticing how her hands were visibly trembling, and yet still she grasped the cool metal with a feeling of dread. With the opening of the door, she began hoping against hope that her premonition would not come to pass.
The chamber was dimly lit with only a few glowing red embers from the hearth giving any kind of light within the room. Shivering, not only from the cold air, but from complete fear, she made her way to the bed and pulled back one of the bed hangings.
She gasped at what her eyes beheld. Her worst nightmare had just become a cold, hard reality. With her arms wrapped around her stomach as if they had the ability of offering her unborn child some form of protection, she tried to calm her raging emotions. She tried to breathe, but found it near impossible, for surely someone had stolen her breath with no plans on giving it back to her anytime soon. She had known she would find them together, but to actually see their limbs entwined in this lovers’ embrace was more than she could bear.
The woman began to move, brushing back her glossy black hair from her face until she realized she and her lover were not alone. As if to prove her position had radically changed, she caressed the chest of the man beneath her, and Katherine watched in dismay as her husband took Marguerite’s hand and placed a loving kiss upon the inside of her wrist. If it was an automatic response, since he performed the same gesture to her on numerous occasions, she could not say, but to be honest, it mattered not. The only thing that was of import was this clear, undeniable fact that he had betrayed her. She had been fooled yet again! She should have known what she had briefly found was too good to be true.
Marguerite leaned up on her elbow to stare at her rival with the complete confidence of someone who had gotten what she had desired. “He has always been mine, and as you can plainly see, he is mine yet again!” She hissed and gave an evil grin as she lay back down, putting her head to rest on Riorden’s chest.
That his arm brought the woman closer to her side was the last straw of what remained of Katherine’s self-control. Her tortured soul could stand no more and, with tears coursing down her cheeks, she fled.
Yes, she fled! She was a complete coward, for she would not wait to see the look in his eyes when he found out that she knew. Nor would she give him or Marguerite the satisfaction of knowing how much they had hurt her. She had come so far just to be with him. To have him betray what God and Time had given them was more than she could comprehend.
So, she fled the keep into the bright sunlight and ran to the stables, saddling her mare with more efficiency than she thought possible with her heart broken as it was. Her call to open the gate went unanswered until she threatened the guard, and they reluctantly obliged her. She fled the grounds with her horse’s hooves thundering beneath her until she heard someone yelling from behind.
She turned back only once to see three men dressed all in black with sinister grins set upon their faces. Their horses drew closer and were almost within reach when her mare unexpectedly reared, its front hooves frantically pawing the air, as Katherine pulled on the reins in an attempt to keep control. She felt herself falling and instinctively curled herself into a ball as her body impacted the hard ground. Tumbling and rolling down the river embankment, she at last came to halt, bruised but otherwise unharmed. Watching in horror, she tried to gather her wits about her and to quickly figure out what she should do next. It was clear she didn’t have much time to consider her options as the miscreants leapt from their mounts. One began running toward her, so she quickly managed to clumsily get to her feet.
“There she be, men!” he called out, quickening his stride to reach her. “’Twas easier than we thought as she practically has fallen into our laps!”
Remembering the street sense she lived with in the future, she knew it was better to die trying to get away than to die at the hands of an assailant. With no other avenue of safety in sight and no one to come to her rescue, Katherine took one last look at Warkworth Castle before jumping into the churning, freezing river.
Her arms flayed wildly about while she tried to ride the swift flowing channel. The undercurrent was stronger than she thought it would be, and she was not much of a swimmer. She tried to catch her breath and keep her head above the waterline but only managed to swallow great gulps of water. Choking and gasping for air, she felt her gown becoming heavier by the second until its weight pulled her down into her watery grave...
* * *
Katherine clawed at the wet sludge of the riverbank as she attempted to pull herself up out of the churning current. Turning her head, she vomited huge amounts of water that she had swallowed during her escape from those she knew would have easily killed her.
Having awakened from her dream, she had had no other recourse than to prove to herself that it was only a nightmare. How she wished it had been.
Espying a tree root sticking out from the mud, she used the last of her energy to loop her arm around it so she wouldn’t float away or sink back into a watery grave. With all hope lost, exhaustion overtook her, and she remembered no more.
* * *
Riorden began to rouse himself from his troubled sleep and rub his eyes, as if that would clear his head. His thoughts were fuzzy at best whilst he tried to remember why his body felt as if he had been through the rigorous, daily training that Dristan demanded. He swore his form felt like it had been pummeled and bruised to the point of sheer exhaustion. The nightmare he had been having did not help matters.
Scenes inside his head began to replay, but he could make no sense of the jumbled mess of images that were tormenting him. One terrifying picture was of Marguerite playing the part of a dutiful wife whilst she lay down in the bed beside him, as if they were indeed husband and wife. But ’twas the vision of his beautiful Katherine finding himself and Marguerite in bed together, fleeing the castle, and drowning in the river that had Riorden feeling thankful that everything he had envisioned had only been a bad dream. After all, he could feel every inch of Katherine’s body whilst he held her close to his side.
But something was amiss...
although he knew not what seemed out of place. He began to open his eyes, but the sharp, piercing morning light caused him to close them once more. ’Twas a clear reminder why he generally did not overindulge in spirits more potent than ale or wine. The next day’s after effects were just not worth it.
At least Katherine was here with him as he felt her snuggle into his chest. He would need to offer her an apology for falling asleep on her last night. He had never done such afore and could not comprehend how he had become so inebriated from such a small amount of spirits.
She began to stir, and he felt her movements as she leaned up to skim his neck with her lips. He felt another part of him rising with her efforts, and he could not think of a better way to begin their day together. She rose slightly, and he wondered where she was going when he had other things in mind.
Opening his eyes, he turned to admire her beauty, but blinked with disbelief instead. Surely, he must still be living a waking nightmare, for what he beheld was unfathomable. He flickered his eyelids yet again with the hope that he would awake from the hellish scene afore him. But, no! ’Twas not to be, for the vision did not change. Bloody Hell! What had he done?
“Glad tidings, my lover,” Marguerite purred, leaning over to kiss his lips.