A nobleman, obviously. Kate thinned her lips, out of humour with nobles. But he wasn’t like Lord Stanley or his son. She saw nothing overbearing or self important about him. He was confident yet quiet, dignified. His face was very fair, fine-boned, like ivory, with dark soft eyes: black brows and lashes, the irises crystalline grey. His thick dark hair shone in the sun.
He looked like someone who would not be easy to befriend. His eyes managed to be gentle and remote at the same time. But he appeared captivated by her, or at least mystified. She found this oddly pleasing.
“Who are you?” he asked. “Apart from an enchantress of animals.”
“Kate.”
“That doesn’t tell me much. I’m Richard.” Hesitantly he took and kissed her hand. “I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t mean to startle you, but I had to…”
He waved a hand at the fallen graylix. In curiosity she went to the creature and stroked the fur of the strange half-lion, half-human face. In death it still looked defiant.
When she rose, he was regarding her in even greater astonishment.
“It’s probably the only chance I’ll have to touch one,” she explained. “It’s a shame you had to kill it, but you saved the pard’s life, and that of my mare, and probably mine as well. Thank you, Sir Richard.”
He gave a diffident smile. “You’re welcome, my lady. You seem very calm.”
“I’m not, I assure you.” She laughed, placing a hand over her bodice. Feeling the gold-thread device of lilies under her fingers, she remembered that it was coming unpicked and needed repair, yet again. She became aware that her hair was loose and wild, her sapphire velvet covered in horsehair. Did she look like an enchantress, or merely a bizarre mess?
“I’ve a flask of wine,” he said. He caught his horse and tied up the glossy beast a safe distance from Mab, who looked tiny in comparison. Fortunately, the bay seemed of calm temperament, and Mab was not in heat.
Kate returned to her oak tree and Richard came to her, offering a leather flask.
She drank gratefully. The wine was delicious, tasting of elderflowers.
“Thank you, sir. My mouth was dry.”
“You should rest for a while.”
“Yes, if you’ll sit with me.”
“Gladly,” he said, and they sat together on the warm, smooth roots of the oak. They passed the wine back and forth, taking sips, an exchange that seemed unnervingly intimate. His hands were beautiful; long and well-shaped, despite being calloused from fighting. “Are you alone?”
“Obviously,” she said. “It’s my mother’s demesne. I always come here alone.”
“I think I’m lost,” he said. “I thought I knew where I was, but this all looks different. Er… I should be on my way, my lady, but I don’t like to leave you.”
A small, thrilling pang; she didn’t want him to leave. “And I don’t want to keep you from your destination, but if you can stay a little while, I’d be grateful.”
“I was only exercising my horse,” he said quickly. “Good for clearing the thoughts. I’ve nowhere to go.”
“Nor I.” She sat with her hands resting on her raised knees, on the folds of her skirt. Leaning her head back, she felt her hair sliding over her shoulders, and was aware of him watching her. His gaze felt delicious, like being stroked. “Such a beautiful afternoon. I’ve never had anyone to share it with before. Let’s hope nothing else disturbs us.”
“No wolves or wild boars.” He passed her the flask again. The wine went to her head.
His eyes were serious and watchful. Wounded eyes; she saw guarded intelligence there and something else, unreadable. Her mother had taught her well how to read people but this man was elusive, as if there were a veil over him. He unnerved her. Never in her life had she felt so powerfully, physically drawn to someone. She wanted to sit closer. It would have seemed natural to touch him. The thought shocked and excited her.
He frowned suddenly. “Have we met before?”
“I don’t think so,” she said. “I would have remembered.”
A smile flickered. “So would I. Still, you remind me of someone, my lady, but I don’t know who, or why…”
“You may call me Kate.”
“Katherine, after the saint? It means ‘pure’.”
“I doubt my mother was thinking of saints when she named me. And Richard, that means ‘hard rule’, does it not?”
A little sword-thrust, to show her knowledge was equal to his. His smile thinned. “I was named for my father. If he had ruled, I suppose he would have been hard, but certainly fair. There must be something in names.”
His remark about his father sounded off-hand, so she was unsure what to read into it.
“So you’re hard, and I’m pure,” she said, then laughed, her cheeks heating with embarrassment.
He laughed with her. His gaze dropped under long eyelashes, then met hers again.
“I thought I was dreaming when I saw you,” he said. “Do you always ride about on your own?”
“All the time. I go wherever I wish.”
“But it’s not safe, Kate.”
“Usually it is. I’ve never seen a graylix or a pard here before, and I doubt I ever will again.”
“There may be boars in the woods, horned toads…”
“A horned toad lives in our garden,” she smiled. “I treat it as a pet.”
“A witch’s pet. They’re poisonous!”
“Only if threatened. You were riding alone too. Is it less dangerous for you?”
“I have a sword.”
“And know how to use it, clearly.”
His laugh had a sour edge. “As I was taught by the greatest master in England, I should hope so.”
“And you defended me well, Richard, but all my life these woods and their inhabitants have been my dear friends. One incident won’t stop me going where I please.”
“But friends can turn on you,” he flashed back. His eyes went dark and remote. “The dearest and best will betray you. You can know and love a wolfhound all your life, but there’s no guarantee it won’t turn and savage you.”
Katherine drew back from his outburst. She waited. He rested his elbows on his knees, and stared at the stream.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Someone has hurt you.”
“Ah, well. Not me, but my brother, which is the same as betraying me. Someone who was dearer to us than our own father… If I talk about this, you’ll know who I am.”
“Will that matter?” Kate placed her hand along his arm, just below the shoulder. He didn’t shake her off, but moved closer.
“I don’t know. It’s pleasant to talk with someone who has no ideas about me, and doesn’t want me to petition the king for them…”
“You’re obviously no shepherd, Richard,” she said. “Tell me anything, or not, as you wish. I won’t tell a soul.”
“And you won’t treat me any differently?”
“No,” she said firmly. “Not in my demesne.”
“The man who betrayed us, he’s the most powerful in the land after the king. I grew up in his household. He helped my brother to achieve his high estate, but now he’s turned against us and sided with our enemies. He tried to persuade me to join him! So I had to choose between two men I worship with my life. If I’m distracted and poor company, Kate, that’s why. I must take up arms against a man I loved like a father.”
“You are not poor company.” Kate felt a flare of pain. It had been easier not to know who he was. Anonymous, he’d been hers alone; but now he had a weight of responsibilities, a whole life that was nothing to do with her. Battles to fight. “I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. Tomorrow I’ll be angry about it. Today I’m riding alone to exorcise the sadness and memories.”
“You’re talking of the Earl of Warwick? And King Edward?”
“I suppose it was obvious.”
“We hear rumours, even here.” She touched the white boar pin on his shoulder. Haunting excitement went through her; the last
response he wanted, no doubt. “You’re the king’s brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester? Or that could be a story you tell unsuspecting maidens.”
“Yes.” He looked at her with warmth. “That’s all it is.”
“I won’t tell. Why did they quarrel?”
His expression hardened, making him look older. “They’re two highly ambitious men who are never content. Edward is king, but Warwick still only the Kingmaker and he can’t manipulate Edward as he thought. He’s a great man, Kate, but driven. It was mostly over Edward’s choice of wife; you must have heard?”
“Of course.”
“Edward embarrassed Warwick horribly. Warwick went to immense trouble to negotiate an important foreign union for him, only for Edward to say, ‘Oh, did I forget to mention that I’m already married to this Lancastrian widow?’ I don’t blame Warwick for his anger. They’re as bad as each other, in some respects. But I know where my loyalty lies.”
“With Edward.”
“Always.” He pushed a hand through his hair. “He’s the king, for God’s sake! But Warwick will use anybody the slightest bit vain or malleable to further his ambitions, and George…” His eyes were flint. “My stupid brother George is jealous of Edward. I’m sure Warwick has seduced him with some ludicrous promise of putting him on the throne. Warwick wants his daughter Isabel to marry George; Edward won’t permit it, because the marriage would make Warwick even more powerful. He’s done nothing but cause trouble this past year. I don’t know that it’s entirely the queen’s fault, but it all went wrong when Edward met her.”
“What’s she like?” Kate asked, fascinated.
Richard’s face hardly moved, but poisonous hatred flickered over his face like lighting across water. “She’s the fairest woman in the land, Elizabeth Woodville, sometimes called Dame Grey,” he said diplomatically. “If only Edward had married just her, and not her entire family! It’s insufferable for the old nobility to see a great clan of Lancastrian commoners awarded high positions and marriages they don’t deserve. Warwick has a right to be angry; but not to commit treason, not that. I can’t forgive him. He promised me the Earth to go with him. He couldn’t believe it when I said no, but I know what loyalty is and no reward under heaven would induce me to betray Edward. And I’m sick of thinking about it all.”
Where her hand rested on him, she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Don’t, then. Forget everything a while. That’s why we met.”
He smiled at her. “And you? Your face was like a storm when I first saw you. Shall we comfort each other?”
She drew a breath. Strong instinct warned her not to spill her own troubles. “Nothing. A quarrel with my mother. I have no identity for you to guess.”
“Good. As long as your name isn’t Woodville. The queen has dozens of sisters, and they lie in wait everywhere.”
“It isn’t, I promise,” Kate answered, amused.
His hand slid up and closed around hers. Her breathing grew quicker and deeper. The sun-warmed velvet of his doublet smelled delicious, fragrant like cedarwood. The scent was on his skin. Beneath the doublet, his linen shirt was white and crisp, like may-blossom.
“I’m glad I met you, Kate. You’re so pretty.”
He kissed her, his lips light and sweet on hers. His arms went around her and she pressed against him, certain he must feel her heartbeat shaking her whole body. Then she knew that her fear of marriage was not a fear of men. In the space of a day she’d discovered the difference between a man who repulsed her, and one who drew her like a bee to nectar.
Kate hadn’t planned it, but she saw a new path in all its shining glory and ruin. A way to ensure that no marriage would be forced upon her. Drastic and wild, but that was the action she must take.
She felt him exhale. “I ought to go,” he said, reluctantly. “This isn’t right. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, Kate.” She felt him trembling, his young body taut against hers. There were too many layers of clothes between them. Her own hunger startled her, a sensation of dissolving heat. “I’ll ride with you back to your house.”
He spoke without conviction, but he gave her a choice. He was a gentleman, a chivalrous knight. If she said, yes, escort me home, he would do so without argument. Her choice. She stood poised on the fork of the path and her heart was pounding.
There was only this cocoon of time, suspended on the fringe of the hidden world. Nothing else existed. The world breathed around them, rich and iridescent.
“No, don’t go,” she said, laying her hand along his cheek.
He stared at her with intense eyes, torn. “Kate, if we stay here…”
“I know.”
“It isn’t right.”
“Yes, it is,” she breathed, her mouth almost touching his. “It is.”
“But I may never see you again.”
“Yes, that’s it!” She kissed his neck, and he gasped. “We are never going to see each other again. This is our only chance.”
“Oh, Kate.” He groaned, surrendering.
She expected to be frightened, but she wasn’t. It was easy. Awkward, for they both suffered the clumsiness of inexperience. If he’d done this before, she was sure it wasn’t many times, if at all. They laughed at their ineptness, and then it didn’t matter. There was only slight pain, nothing she couldn’t bear, and soon the discomfort eased into a richer sensation. Yes, the easiest thing in the world. Coupling wasn’t terrible but sweet, as her mother had told her it could be, ineffably delicious, gentle and transporting, a flight through the mysteries of the hidden world.
And forbidden. She could not possibly be doing this with someone she had met barely an hour ago, a stranger… but she was and exaltation filled her. They laughed together. The green world trembled.
###
Kate went to refill the empty flask with water from a nearby spring and brought it to him. He unsaddled his horse; she watched the care with which he tended the animal. Then they quenched their thirst, twined their bodies together joyfully, naked now, and made love again. Dusk fell. The world turned blue and the denizens of the hidden world whispered around them. Kate saw their firefly eyes over her lover’s shoulder, and smiled.
Eventually, forgetting themselves, they slept.
Kate woke suddenly to a cold, dewy dawn and found herself looking at a stranger.
They’d pulled their clothes back on for warmth and the night had not been cold, but now, without his arms around her, she was freezing. Her dress was soaked. Richard was kneeling, dishevelled and trying to lace his shirt with shaking hands. As she rose, he regarded her with a wary look, bordering on accusation. All enchantment had gone.
Kate sat up in sharp dread. “Oh, dear Iesu, my mother will be going out of her mind.”
He said nothing. He looked very young, grim and almost frightened.
“Richard?” She tried to shift her dress to fall properly, shaking out the damp underskirts. “Are you well? You’re looking at me as if I were a ghost.”
He took a deep breath. He was as white as the dawn. “I’ve remembered where I saw you before.”
“Oh? Where?”
“I think you know.”
“Really, I don’t.”
He rose, fastening his doublet and making a poor job of it. When she went to help him, he stepped back.
“What have I done?” she said, frowning.
“I should have realised.” His face took on the hardness she’d seen when he spoke of Earl of Warwick. “It’s obvious you’re a witch. I shouldn’t have been taken in.”
“Taken in?”
“I recognise this… otherworld. I’ve been here before. Yesterday was too beautiful to be real, and there were spectres all around us, demons in my dreams all night…”
Kate’s face gave her away. What he said was true, at least in part.
“It’s not what you think.”
“You don’t deny it, then? No doubt you thought I was under your spell. Do you lie in wait to ensorcell any unsuspecting knight who happens
to pass?”
“Ensorcell you? Don’t flatter yourself! Great Goddess, you make me sound like Morgana lying in wait for King Arthur! Richard, don’t be angry. It wasn’t that at all.”
“I thought this was beautiful and innocent. All deceit. They warn us against demonesses who lie in wait to tempt men into sin. I should have known. Iesu’s blood, what have I done?”
He went to saddle his horse. She followed him. “I suppose your priests tell you the otherworld is evil. They know nothing.”
“And I know too much,” he said. “It’s profane, outside the realm of God, full of horrors – and deceitful enchantments. The world is a battleground of light and dark and I won’t be dragged into the dark!”
Kate stood hugging herself against the cold. She was hurt and offended. To her the hidden world was a place of wonder. Yet she couldn’t summon the strength to argue. If this was what Richard believed, she was unlikely to change his mind. The shock of what they’d done was setting in.
Suddenly she wished he had been a lad like Tom, after all, and not this guarded, difficult nobleman.
She couldn’t argue with Richard, because he was right. She’d asked Auset for a sign, and he’d appeared; but Auset had still given her a choice. Kate had drawn him into the hidden world and enchanted him.
Other men might have been grateful.
“You should know, I don’t make a habit of it,” she said tightly. “It was my first time.”
He stopped buckling straps, and gazed at her across the bay’s saddle. His eyes were like ice. She began to hate him for looking at her like that.
She added, “You must have realised.”
The flicker in his eyes was guilt. Of course he realised. “How could you do that? Just – give yourself to a stranger?” he exclaimed.
Kate arched her eyebrows. “How could you, gentle knight?”
He was almost speechless. She imagined that, when he grew older, his severity would be frightening. “That’s different. That’s utterly different!”
The Court of the Midnight King: A Dream of Richard III Page 8