* * * *
The next day when the two maids appeared once more to fill her tub anew with steaming water, Kat was ready to stare down the resentful one and smile at the other.
They both did their duty quickly and left as silently as they had come. But when Geoffrey did not appear soon after, Kat cursed and went in search of him.
She found him in a small room behind the great hall’s dais. He sat at a table where stood one large ledger and two short stacks of silver coins. That was more precious mint than she had seen anyone possess in many years. The thought comforted, even if his absence from her side did not. “Where have you been?” she accused him like a badgering wife. “I need to talk with you.”
Looking up from the ledger, he arched a long ginger eyebrow at her. His eyes were puffed and bloodshot, as if he had worked late into the night. But a smile teased his lips as he raised both hands in surrender. “Very well. You have found me. Begin.”
“You did not come to bed last night. Where were you? Here? Counting your silver?”
“Counting our supporters who arrive by the hour. When I was done greeting them, it was late and I did not want to disturb your slumber.” He tipped his head, his eyes full of molten desire as they rushed over her linen shift and hastily tied gown. “I assume you missed my company.”
She lifted her nose. Of course she had pined for him. “You flatter yourself.”
“Shouldn’t I?” When she scolded him with a sideways glance, he pushed his ledger away. Then his gaze skimmed the bare skin of the tops of her breasts. “What else?”
She wanted him to elaborate on what she had heard him discuss with his two young retainers last night. The more she knew of his plans, the better she could tell about their prospects for success. “How long do we stay here?”
“Until you are able to devour a pigeon pie by yourself.”
He would avoid her with humour? She could play that game while urging him to leave here. She held her head high. “Get me a plump one.”
He examined her head to toe, then, seemingly convinced, he smiled. “I’ll order the cook to prepare one for your supper.”
“I’ll have wine, too. And a horse.”
His eyebrows shot high. “You intend to eat a horse, do you?”
“First, I will gallop with him.” I must determine my own ability to endure a long ride.
“I see,” he said with caution in his tone. “I will have a gelding saddled.”
“Good. Let me know when he is ready.”
“We will both ride out,” he told her, insistent. “Shall I say this afternoon?”
She grabbed up hands full of her skirts, her demeanour gay and light. “You may. I need to be out of here and doing! Make certain you give me a spirited creature and a man’s saddle.”
“You wish others to know that you dare ride astride?”
“If it proves my hardiness, so be it. After all, servants talk. We know not to whom.”
He looked askance. “You have witnessed this?”
“No. But you know such things occur.”
“And?”
“One maid gives me the evil eye, although she has done nothing to provoke me.”
“Dismiss her then to the kitchen.”
“I do not wish to insult the good graces of my Lord Marshall by impugning his servants.”
“But she irritates you. Why?”
Kat bit her lower lip, ashamed of herself for an unfounded jealousy. Had Geoffrey not come to her often and proven his devotion in myriad ways? “I was wrong to intimate. Forgive me.”
“Nonetheless, my Lord Marshall would not want you unhappy. He would wish the maid banned from your presence if she is a nuisance. He demands, as we all do, a loyal service.”
She grimaced. “Where there is no cause for disloyalty, aye. Really, there is none.”
“Good. Come then, be of good cheer,” he assured her with a smile. “We will venture out in the sunshine today and show all what a fine rider you are. In days of old, you were a legend. And a vision on that white gelding of yours.”
“Give me a horse with spirit.”
He bowed, gallantly. “Your wish, my lady, is my command.”
“One more thing.” She picked at the cloth of her tunic. “While you are at it, find me more suitable clothes to ride in than these garments.”
He grinned, a light of humour chasing away his darker countenance. “Men’s hose, mayhap?”
She nodded with a saucy smirk. “A start. We do not want our supporters to think I am some frail dimwit. If they must fight for me, let them see they fight for one who is worthy of their sacrifices.”
“A fine tactic.”
“Besides,” she said with a toss of her head, “I wish to know which man here will give up his hose to a woman.”
“Not many here have such large”—he considered her figure—“hips.”
She snorted. “Thank God. Get me that horse. I must be up and about.” She picked up a silver piece from one of his stacks and rolled it in her fingers. She would bring him down a notch. “After all, I cannot lie abed waiting for you all day long.”
“No, but as long as you continue to miss me all night long, I shall call myself satisfied.”
She threw the coin at his chest.
He caught it and winked. “Call for your bath. I will come to you as soon as I have counted my funds and have new clothes for you.”
“Make haste.”
“Aye, my lady. You in a man’s loincloth. The idea spurs me on without delay.”
* * * *
Hours later, they took the two black geldings down to the river. The spring day was brilliant and a gentle warm breeze wafted over the flowering hillside.
“Think you we can safely stroll beside the water?” Kat ventured as they drew close to the bank, and out of sight of most of the knights camped before the castle fortifications.
“Today, aye, we can.” He scanned the eastern horizon.
She heard caution in his tone and followed the direction of his attention. “You have watchmen stationed out there?”
“A few. In the forest. Along the river.”
She caught apprehension in his words. “But you need more, don’t you?”
“We do. I have not every approach to the outer village manned. As soon as de la Poer and Dunwick arrive, we shall be better prepared.”
“Do we have enough money?” She paused, remembering his pile of silver. “To be more precise, do you have enough to fund this stand against John? These men who come to fight will need food and wish for some show of thanks for their service.”
“I think so, aye.”
“That sets me at ease. Though I wonder if we bankrupt you.”
“I fear it not.”
She smiled at him. “Your silver is full-valued, not John’s clipped coins of lesser value. You are, my dearest Geoffrey, a rich man. And thrifty.”
“I never speak of it.”
“Others do tell of your generosity, though. You are a legend in that. How you have aided de la Poer and Dunwick in their quest for justice for their wives and for themselves. How you treat your serfs with care and a gentle hand.”
“I am glad such news met your ears.”
She grinned at him. “I may have put out that I hated you, but I am a woman and I do listen to the latest news.”
He laughed.
A slice of fear cut into her joy in their ride. How could she see this conflict ended without bloodshed? Without Geoffrey’s disgrace or impoverishment? Was there a way?
She dismounted, leading her horse along by a tether. Geoffrey did the same and walked beside her.
Picking up a stone to throw and skip along the river rocks, she asked him, “Have you ever wondered why John is so covetous that he would strip his coffers and force his knights to fight for small and bitter causes?”
Geoffrey crossed his arms and sighed. “Men’s character is a mystery to me. His most of all.”
“John’s father was not like that.
Or so I am told.”
“I have heard those tales, as well. His mother was a wise owl, too. I was in her company a few occasions. She commanded the room with her logic and wit, outshining Richard and John. Would that our King had inherited more from Henry and Eleanor than their cunning.”
She examined the circling ripples of the water. “I am not young nor a virgin. Why would he want me so badly as to risk battles, deaths and political conflicts with his barons?”
“John does not anticipate consequences. He merely takes what he wants and calls it his right. But, more important, you challenged him.”
“I am not the first woman to do that.”
“Perhaps not. But as it seems that he harboured such a passion for you for years, then you have sorely tested his manhood.”
“He is not desirable. Unless you like the thick-headed, brutish type.”
Geoffrey threw back his head and laughed up at the sky. “Ho! He cares not what others think of him. He knows what they should think. And that includes any woman who appeals to his particular tastes.”
“How can I appeal to him? I am not one to charm a man. I do not play at conquests. I never wished his attentions and remained a demure woman in his presence.”
“He would like a woman of right virtue.”
She stared at Geoffrey. “I am not that.”
He narrowed his gaze on her. “You are.”
“I lay with you often years ago. As I do now.”
He shook his head. “Yes, but—”
“That is not virtuous. You and I always enjoyed ourselves. I allowed you to bare my breasts and suckle me. I let you pet me, make me wet and want—”
He put up a hand. “You do yourself a disservice, Kat. We did not couple, save for that one time.”
“One time, aye. When I took your seed and carried Matthew to term. No one knew he was yours. Not my father or mother. I lied so easily. Even to my husband.”
“‘Twas a good lie you told. Rumour said he beat you even for the smallest slight.”
“He did until I learnt how to escape his temper. I became an even better liar. I was flippant to him, demeaning to him in public and more so when he had been cruel to me. I was shrewd. That is no virtuous woman, Geoffrey. That is a woman who—”
“A woman who did what she must to avoid bruises and broken bones. Much evil comes from a man’s harsh hand to a woman. She can begin to think as cruelly or, worse, devalue her own worth.”
She looked towards the rolling green horizon, recalling the years she had avoided her husband’s anger. “My trouble was I valued myself very highly.”
“My lord!” A cry came upon the gentle winds.
The sound of horses’ hooves churning the earth had Kat and Geoff turning towards the castle. The sight of the messenger sent blood rushing to Kat’s head. She swayed, her mouth working at impossible words.
“Who is this?” she asked as the young man rode nearer and she recognised him as the ghost who had accompanied Geoffrey into the main hall the night before then dissolved into the background. He had seemed familiar then. His height, his breadth. His voice a familiar timbre.
“My newest knight, my dear.”
Now as the youth rode closer, Kat stared at him, her lips parting, her jaw dropping.
“My lord, come quickly!” The man, breathless in his haste, drew up to them and controlled his panting mount. “We have visitors.”
“Who are they?” Geoffrey asked.
The messenger was a striking young man. And she knew him. In her heart, she recognised him.
Matthew! The auburn hair, the forest green eyes, the square jaw, the flashing and endearing smile.
“Geoffrey,” she asked him on a whisper, “who is this?”
Geoff took her arm.
“My lady.” The knight greeted her with a generous smile and swept her a courteous bow from his saddle.
“Matthew, oh, Matthew!”
He dismounted, gentled his horse and strode to her to wrap her in his arms. His embrace was fierce but brief. “My lord,” he addressed Geoffrey, “forgive me for this.”
“No forgiveness is needed, Matthew.”
“My God.” Kat clung to her son. “How handsome you are, my darling.”
“Thank you, madam.” Her son peered down at her with tears in his eyes. “I am honoured.”
Kat could not get enough of looking at her child, her fingers digging into his forearms, her heart so full with love for his remarkable appearance here.
Geoffrey waved a hand and tossed off a smile, his expression tightening with tension. “Tell me, boy, what goes?”
“A party of men, my lord.” Matthew circled an arm around Kat’s waist and hugged her closer.
“How many?” Geoffrey asked.
“Ten. Fifteen at most. We cannot be certain until they draw closer.”
“Who are they?”
“We think they bear banners of red with white stripes along the distaff. Mayhap the symbol of a white boar as well.”
Katherine took these details in as if in a haze. To find Matthew here, and so suddenly, had infused her with hope and joy, more than she had known possible ever again.
Geoffrey frowned. “It sounds like Ferrer.”
Kat nodded. “It is. Those are his colours.” The threat of Ferrer here snapped her mind to clarity about the dangers they faced. On the heels of fear, she had a hundred questions about Matthew. She faced Geoffrey in awe and gratitude. “Matthew has been here and you did not tell me?”
“You were weak, muddled. I did not wish to confuse you more.”
She turned to absorb more of the sight of her boy, now a man. He was a handsome, dashing creature who resembled his father so exactly that Kat was taken back two decades to the hours when she had looked upon his charming father and learnt the meaning of love.
She examined this stunning replica of his father at the age of nineteen. “You are healthy?”
“And happy. I am my lord St Claire’s man.”
“In many ways,” she acknowledged.
“I am his son, I know,” her boy declared with ease. “He told me years ago when first I came to his service.”
Geoffrey came to stand beside her. “One look at him and I knew I was his sire.”
She yearned to run her fingers through Matthew’s burnished hair. “Aye. Never could anyone mistake you. Then or now.”
“I have raised him as my own, Kat. Yet never proclaimed him as such, lest the news travel and your husband learn it.”
“And did you ever wait table?” she asked of her boy who smiled broadly at her.
“Nay, madam. Never in my father’s house.”
“That was a tale we told abroad,” said Geoffrey, “to protect him from gossip and trickery. I sent him to Simon de la Poer in the north when he was fifteen. The older he became, the more striking the resemblance. For his protection and yours, he left. We declared he went to serve de la Poer. In fact, Matthew perfected his knightly skills with sword and dagger.”
“Did John ever notice the likeness?” she pressed for an answer.
“Aye, he told me so after he visited the north country last year. Quite by accident, he saw Matthew at a joust. He confronted me. Sneered at me. I did not take it lightly. He resented it. And I fear my reaction spurred John to act more viciously towards you, Kat.”
Tears stung her eyes. “I am so sorry for the years we spent apart.”
“Mother, none of that was your fault.”
“I’d say it was.”
“What’s done is done.”
She squeezed her son’s hand. “A tangle of problems.”
“But we are at an end of them, Mother.”
She swept her tears away, hoping he was right. “We solve today’s challenges. But soon I wish to hear more of your life with your father.”
“At supper. For now, Matthew, return,” Geoffrey declared and Matthew parted from her to mount his horse. “Do not keep our unexpected guests waiting. Lower the drawbridge. Invite th
em in. But man the murder holes. And after you close the portcullis behind them, tell Reginald to strip them of their arms. They will not walk through Chepstow armed to their teeth with pikes and arrows.”
Matthew nodded.
“Make them wait in the bailey until I call for you. I will receive them in the main hall.”
“Wait!” Kat grabbed Matthew’s reins. “Check their boots.”
He tipped his head in question.
“Ferrer and his men like to carry Italian daggers in their boots.”
Matthew scowled. “Is that how they subdued you, Mother?”
With the painful memory, she said, “Aye.”
“Well, then,” Geoffrey said, “do as your mother says, Matthew. I would like to own a collection of stiletti.”
* * * *
“I count twelve in chain mail,” Kat told Geoffrey as they stood on the dais in the main hall and peered out at the men who approached them. Lining the walls stood Geoffrey’s knights complemented by twenty or more from his friends’ retinues. Ferrer filled the entrance, clad in green velvet under chain mail. He was slim, balding, sharp chin up, dark eyebrows arched in haughty demeanour. Behind him, his men assembled in a phalanx, blinking, glancing to and fro, sceptical of what fate might hold here in this room.
Geoffrey snorted. “He seems a peacock.”
She nodded, rejoicing in Ferrer’s predicament and this chance to see him brought low. “True. Like so many, he has won his place in our King’s heart by his slavering and bowing. His serfs hate him for his greed. His poor wife was forever with child, losing each one, and finally losing her own life in the process.”
“A blessing that the children did not live to learn their sire’s ways.”
“Aye, a father should be an upright model for his sons and his daughters.” She briefly admired the sire of her own firstborn. “As you have been for Matthew.”
“You nurtured him well with your love.”
With Her Kiss (Swords of Passion) Page 9