by Pam Roller
Then, Lord Drayton stood beside her, and somehow his towering nearness calmed her. “May I present Lady Katherine Seymour,” he said, frowning at Edward. “She will be staying here for a fortnight or so.”
Katherine tried to maintain her smile. Only a fortnight, and then tossed to another destination. Would she ever find a home?
Alex wished to hell Edward would hurry up and ask his cousin’s hand in marriage. The man’s eyes did not leave Elizabeth as she seated the Cookes around the parlor after they finished their rude stares at Katherine.
Sarah Cooke settled her round self, leaned toward Katherine, and shouted, “Did you meet with much rain on your journey here?”
“She is mute and dimwitted, Madam, not deaf,” said Robert as he plucked a goblet of wine from a servant’s tray. “You can ask, but she will not answer.”
Sarah sat back and touched her fingers to her lips as if self-conscious. Her gaze flitted to Agnes, who raised her brows and gave a bored shrug.
Alex watched Katherine’s aggravated, rhythmic tap of her fingers on her slate, and wondered why anyone, including himself, had assumed she’d be daft. She seemed perfectly attuned to the activity around her. The slight smirk on her face as she examined everyone’s clothing confirmed his initial suspicion of her arrogance; a product of London nobility she was. Had she been even haughtier before the fire? Was she a bit more humbled now by the new knowledge of her past?
His mind snapped to attention when she lifted the chalk to write, and he involuntarily tensed and clenched his jaw. “’Tis an annoyance to hear that sound.”
Brows furrowing with indignation, she waved him off with a quick flick of her hand. Alex glared at her, but knew her reaction was justified. The slate was her only means of communication.
Beside him, Robert’s angular features creased into a smile. “Your acquisition seems lively. And she is not old after all, is she?”
Alex grunted under his breath and drew a scowl. “Not old. But a burden nonetheless.” No need to tell Robert how she affected him.
The statement had been meant for Robert’s ears only, but Agnes caught it and giggled. “Lord Drayton, you mustn’t be cruel to poor Lady Katherine. She may be a burden, as you said, but she certainly admires your drapes.”
Across the room, Katherine glowered at Agnes, then turned darkened eyes, etched with hurt, on him.
Alex hid both his annoyance at Agnes and regret at his words. She had just caused him the need to apologize to Katherine.
“A highwayman lurks along the woodland path to Chiswick,” Sarah said. “My maid told me she heard he attacked a lone rider last week and left him for dead.”
“He is a coward,” Robert said. “He hides in the woods, and only shows himself when there’s one rider.”
“I would be afraid to go to town without at least two footmen,” Elizabeth said with a shiver.
Edward sent his easy smile toward Elizabeth. “Just stay on the main road away from the forest, and you should be fine. ’Tis what I’d do.”
“That’s you, Ed,” Robert growled. “You’d steer clear of him. Agnes now, if she were a man, she’d run the rogue down and run a sword through him before he got a chance to yelp.”
Agnes flipped open her white fan and began a swift flutter, her eyes on Alex above the lacy edge. “But I am a lady, Father. Not a man.”
“Must’ve been a mistake,” Robert said.
The usual gleam of Agnes’ eyes faded. Edward, perhaps used to such talk, sent a dispassionate glance toward his father.
Alex silently acknowledged a brief empathy toward Robert’s children, and then returned his attention to Katherine. Had any doctor inspected her throat? He dismissed the question. The king had no reason not to have aided Katherine as her father’s traitorous trunk had only been discovered in the past month. Not only that, but she was a noblewoman formerly betrothed to a man holding the prestigious position of gentleman of the king’s bedchamber. Surely even a worm like Lord Rochester would pay the best doctors in London to heal her before he grew tired of waiting and shook her from his pudgy, bejeweled hands.
The best doctors. And in London, too. Before he could crush it, a ghost of an idea took shape in Alex’s mind.
“And the dog leaps, I tell you, leaps as high as my head to catch the dried sheep dung that the groomsman’s children throw,” Edward was telling them, his eyes now bright with amazement. “I watched it myself this morning.”
“Pish, Ed,” Robert said, holding out his goblet for a servant to refill. “You spend too much time on your poems and herb potions to discipline the workers. They should be putting the shit in bags instead of throwing it around. Those brats need a stick to their backs.”
“Well,” Edward finished, his smile fading, “I thought it rather funny.”
Curious, Alex watched Katherine stiffen over Robert’s comment. Betrothed to a man like the earl, and doubtless a regular at Court, she should be used to such vulgar talk.
A servant announced the meal. Alex rose without further thought and performed his customary duties whenever the Cookes came to dinner. He approached Agnes, who rose regally and placed her hand on his offered forearm.
Robert and Sarah would take their places behind himself and Agnes, followed by Edward and Elizabeth.
But now there was Katherine to consider. She rose and stood with clasped hands. Although she held her head high, from the look on her face, Alex knew she fought humiliation over having no escort.
Blast it all. He couldn’t make her walk alone to the dining room. And she would be a quiet diversion from Agnes’ aimless chatter. “Excuse me, Agnes,” he said pleasantly, and extracted her hand from his arm while noting the slight narrowing of her eyes. Approaching Katherine, he asked, “May I also escort you to dinner, my lady?”
She regarded him doubtfully and must have considered his act one of forced politeness, but walked with him toward the parlor door.
A delicate lavender scent wafted from her smooth, soft looking skin. Deep warmth from her hand on his arm caused a wild thump of his heart. What was she doing to him?
With effort, he raised his other arm so that Agnes could lay her hand on it. That arm remained cool. How strange.
As they left the parlor, Alex had an overwhelming urge to stop and grasp Katherine’s entire body against his to see just how warm the rest of her felt. As quickly as he repressed the thought, perspiration beaded his forehead. He would draw attention to his reaction if he released either woman’s arm to wipe it off.
What the devil was wrong with him?
Chapter Four
Katherine carried her slate curled in her left arm, determined to use it despite Lord Drayton’s admonishment. He had no idea of the painful agony she’d endured in the sudden loss of her voice. Although the slate was a poor substitute, it was her lifeline in expression.
While those walking behind them spoke quietly among themselves, Agnes’ tongue ran on wheels, maintaining a strident prattle that echoed through the Hall. Although Lord Drayton responded in polite tones, he didn’t elaborate on her words. Once, he glanced down at Katherine, who had just noticed a sheen of moisture on his forehead.
The moment Agnes stopped talking long enough to take a breath, he said quietly, “Lady Katherine, I apologize for my comment about your being a burden. I know you cannot help your circumstances.”
Agnes gave an annoyed click of her tongue.
Lord Drayton continued, his tone a curious mixture of hope and reluctance. “Doctors examined your throat, did they not?”
Katherine nodded. What did Lord Drayton care about her throat?
“’Tis odd that they couldn’t diagnose the cause of your silence.”
What was odd was the heat that sizzled from his forearm. If they didn’t reach the table soon, her hand would catch fire. Once, his elbow—unintentionally, she was sure—grazed the side of her breast as they walked. A shiver rippled through her. She swallowed against the ridiculous drumming of her heart and struggled to m
aintain even breaths.
“You have a competitive spirit, Agnes,” Lord Drayton said, and Katherine’s attention was immediately drawn to his baritone voice as quickly as it had dismissed Agnes’ high-pitched tone. “Edward and Elizabeth won the last game of cribbage. We shall play tonight, if you wish. Or, I could read from Paradise Lost, the book I received the other day.”
Lord Drayton read books the likes of Paradise Lost?
To her chagrin, he caught her amused reaction. “Even country dwellers such as I enjoy reading,” he said with a smile that complemented the unexpected twinkle in his eyes.
Then, Agnes resumed her blathering, and Katherine shut her out.
They passed a long table that would easily seat twenty-five people. Directly beyond, they turned left and entered a dining room that held a round oak table surrounded by red-cushioned chairs, their backs carved in intricate patterns. Although the windows in here were also draped, the late afternoon sun stole around the edges of the cloth, and a large iron candelabrum lit the room.
The rising steam from a platter of savory roasted meat on the sideboard was no rival against the smolder of Katherine’s hand on Lord Drayton’s arm.
Alex’s arm grew cold after Katherine removed her hand to stand behind her chair for prayer. Afterwards he helped Elizabeth with the carving, serving his guests the choice pieces of meat. When he sat, he tried to focus on what Agnes was saying, but found himself drawn to the silent messages Katherine sent his way.
She was forming opinions of him, of his house, and had stolen glances at him during their walk to the dining room. For some foolish reason, Alex cared about what she thought.
“Even so, I do hope Lord and Lady Allerton’s Ball in June will be well-attended by London gentry,” Agnes was saying. “Will you be going, Lord Drayton?”
“Perhaps,” he replied.
How did a mute woman keep up with conversation at a social gathering? She’d have to be constantly writing with that squeaky chalk, and the discussion would slow to a crawl in order to include her. How exasperating for all.
They ate and talked, and Katherine ate and listened. She reacted to the topic at hand with some facial gesture—raised brow, nod, charming smile. Several times she leaned forward or lifted her hand as if to respond. Frustration creased her brow during those moments. Alex mused once again on his unorthodox idea, one that could anger the king and his Anglican physicians.
“I’d like to discuss the London fire with her if she is not too softheaded,” Robert said to Alex.
“Then do so,” Alex replied with a touch of irritation.
Katherine sent an alert, expectant look Robert’s way, as if she were ready and able to discuss the fire. However, Robert spoke to everyone but her. Alex’s opinion of his blunt neighbor began to sour.
“I heard the strong east wind made the flames jump houses like a leaping horse,” Robert said. “’Tis amazing that so many buildings were lost in just a few days.”
“And all those churches,” Edward put in. He turned to Katherine, and Alex was glad to see it. “Is the fire how you lost your voice? I do hope you can understand my words.”
Of course she understood, Alex thought, watching her lift the slate from her lap. She would have plenty to say about the tragedy that had changed her life, especially now that her father’s treason had been exposed.
Alex couldn’t hide his frown thinking she knew all along about it. At that moment, their eyes met. Her face reflecting uneasy annoyance, she lowered the slate.
Gadzoks. He was a toad, no better than Robert.
Sarah, cutting her meat, said quietly, “Edward, perhaps ’tis best not to speak to the simpleton. You will only confuse her.”
Katherine bent her head. Her hand trembled as she took a knife and spread honeyed butter on her bread. She blinked as if fighting tears.
Something hot and pulsing and fiercely protective within Alex roared to life and kicked him hard in his gut.
“Try her, Edward,” he said, keeping his voice pleasant but yearning to shout. “I think you will find her quite astute. And I will provide you with pen and ink, Lady Katherine.” He gave the orders to a servant, wondering why he hadn’t thought of that simple solution already.
She peered at him—as did Agnes beside her—clearly gauging his intent. Katherine’s moist brown eyes indicated disbelief, whereas Agnes’ green ones gleamed with suspicion.
“Lady Cooke,” murmured Elizabeth to her plate, “I doubt that she is a simpleton. She cannot speak, that is all.”
Surprised, Alex turned his attention to his timid cousin.
“Well then, that’s that,” said Edward with a cheerful pat on Elizabeth’s hand.
“My apologies, Lady Katherine,” said Sarah, her angry eyes on Robert. “My husband evidently misunderstood his information when he told me you were dead from the neck up.” She thrust a forkful of beef into her mouth and scraped the pewter prong between her front teeth as she drew it out.
Alex winced. Sarah only made that sound with her fork when she was upset with Robert, which was quite often. More than once, their quarrels at his table had extended to the parlor after the meal and into their carriage when they left. It was one more reason to never take another wife.
“I did not misunderstand,” Robert said in clipped tones. “We assumed the fire had taken her mind as well as her voice.”
“Then you must learn your facts before you cause my embarrassment and Lady Katherine’s discomfort,” Sarah shot back. Bits of brown food flew from her lips and added visual impact to her heated words.
Katherine’s round-eyed gaze flew from Robert to Sarah.
“’Tis true we were mistaken,” Alex said through the tight muscles clenching his jaw. “The king informed me only of her entrapment in the fire and her father’s death, as well as her broken engagement to the Earl of Rochester. We assumed the rest, as Robert has said.”
No longer looking as if tears threatened, Katherine sipped her wine and regarded him, as he did her. How would her voice sound? Low and musical, he mused. Full of elegance as was her walk, yet with a vibrancy like the glossy curls that graced her shoulders.
“I did assume the rest,” Robert muttered. “How was I supposed to know she can think? Why in damnation would anyone care—”
“Fie, Robert, do hush!” Sarah said. “Your words tonight are deplorable.”
“Silence, woman!” Robert snapped. “Would that your voice could—”
“Enough.” Alex’s voice, low but hard, silenced the Cookes. There would be no games or reading after the meal. Inviting his nearest neighbors to dinner so Katherine could meet them had been a terrible mistake.
Robert turned to Alex with a pained, set smile. “We apologize, Drayton.”
Alex nodded, resisting the urge to order them all to leave right now. “We all misunderstood Lady Katherine’s difficulty.”
As if relieved, Katherine closed her eyes.
Robert tipped up his wine goblet and drank, and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I suppose it will be harder now to convince the king as to why you didn’t pursue his suggestion.”
Katherine’s eyes flew open.
Agnes’ sharp eyes speared her father. “I am certain Lord Drayton will succeed.”
Puzzlement filled Katherine’s features. She arched her brows at Alex, clearly expecting an explanation.
“’Tis not important,” Alex said to her, and watched her eyes narrow.
She raised her slate to the table.
“’Twas nothing, Lady Katherine.” Damn Robert! The man couldn’t keep a straight head when he drank. And it was too late now to tell him the king’s suggestion of marriage was a ruse. He’d built the lie to avoid telling Robert the real reason she was here, that her father had been Cromwell’s spy.
As she neared her chalk toward the surface, Alex felt his throat constrict. He did not need further association with this woman. “’Twas only a suggestion. I shall discuss it with you in private.”
<
br /> Elizabeth said, “Shall we return to the parlor for—”
Katherine slammed chalk to slate. Each swift, screeching stroke of letters drove needled pain into Alex’s ears. Then, she swung the slate around. You will tell me now.
Alex swore under his breath and slapped a hand on the table. “Fine. Anything to stop that sound. The king suggested I take you to wife.”
Katherine’s jaw dropped. Her slate clattered to the table. She stared at him in wide-eyed shock, and shook her head.
“You needn’t concern yourself, however,” Alex continued. Why did she grimace so? “As we discussed yesterday, I will—”
Katherine rose, her back stiff and straight.
“I did not excuse you,” Alex said.
The command gave her pause, but only for a moment. She raised her chin and arched a haughty brow at him before turning heel and sailing out of the room.
Alex maintained a vigilantly stern countenance. He should be satisfied that she objected to the marriage suggestion. Instead, a band of iron seemed to tighten around his neck and a strange, sinking distress over her reaction weighted his heart.
Did she, too, think him the fiend that his wife had?
Agnes lay a hand over her deep cleavage. “I am shocked at her willful behavior, my lord,” she gasped. “I would never think to do such a thing.”
Alex dragged his gaze from the empty doorway to Agnes. To his knowledge, she had never raised debate over anything he said, but was drearily agreeable with him. “I am sure you would not.” He forced a smile that felt like a grimace, and Agnes cocked her head in that annoying manner that reminded him of a bird listening for a worm in the ground.
Robert dipped his fingers into the small bowl of water set before him and then wiped them dry on the tablecloth. “I’d say a beating is in order for that vixen.”
Alex turned to Robert and held no check on his displeasure. “I’d say you will not give your opinion of how to handle a willful woman in my household.”
“I’d offer to do the job myself, but I know you will put her in her place.” Robert leaned back in his chair and lifted his cup to his host.