She had known nothing, a fact that Ranulf had never failed to remind her. Despite her best efforts, she had given her husband no pleasure in his home, nor in his bed. Had she fallen ill and died, she doubted if he would have noticed.
‘Why do you fight?’ Ewan asked again, staring as if he could see the answers in her profile.
‘Fighting is something I can do well,’ was her answer. It was the only thing she could do with any sort of expertise, save the embroidery. And even that, she’d only learned because it was necessary when tending wounded men. Blood had never bothered her, and she’d sewn up countless wounds.
After she tied off the thread, she packed the wound with comfrey and crushed garlic that Katherine had left behind. There were no cobwebs to help the wound bind, but with a tight bandage, it might do well enough. She wound his arm firmly with the clean linen. ‘Do you want me to wrap your ribs now?’
Against her desires, she found herself staring at his mouth. The heat of the room grew stifling, and perspiration rose up on her skin.
‘That won’t be necessary.’ His hand reached out to hers, and she grew self-conscious of the rough calluses upon her palm.
‘The cut will be better in a sennight or two,’ she remarked. ‘But try to keep it covered when you fight.’ Taking a step backwards, she drew her hand away and waited for him to leave.
Ewan didn’t take the pointed hint. Instead, he moved in until she was cornered against a wall. ‘Don’t ever take a risk like that again. Beaulais might have harmed you.’ He rested his hand against the wall behind her. Once again, the familiar scent of him seemed to pull at her senses.
Honora tried to keep her breathing steady, to ignore the rapid pulsing of her heart. ‘I could have blocked him, had he tried to strike me.’
‘You take too many chances,’ he argued. ‘And while I am glad you can defend yourself, there’s no reason to seek trouble.’ He cupped her chin. ‘You find it well enough on your own.’
‘Don’t patronise me.’ Her face felt as though it were on fire, and he was far too close. The gentle pressure of his fingertips against her chin made her hands tremble. ‘And don’t touch me.’
He lifted his hands up and stepped away. ‘As you wish. But let there be peace between us, Honora.’
‘Why does it matter?’
‘If I’m going to wed your sister, I would like for us to be friends.’
Friends. Had they ever been just that to one another? She had followed him around far more than was proper. If the truth be known, years ago she’d held a secret admiration of him, wishing that he would fall in love with her.
But he hadn’t. He’d been kind enough, but most times he’d tried to avoid her. Looking back, she understood the reason. It was difficult for any man to love a woman who had attempted to skewer him with a sword.
‘Friends,’ she repeated. ‘I suppose there’s no harm in it.’ She offered him her hand, as though it meant nothing. But the light grip of his hand upon hers sent a wild heat blazing through her. ‘As your friend, I’ll warn you not to do anything foolish again, like you did tonight.’
The corner of his mouth turned up. ‘Why would you say that?’
Tilting her head, she remarked, ‘Fighting a man when you’ve been bleeding for hours, Ewan? Now was that wise?’
‘I won, didn’t I?’
She shook her head. ‘I had to sew you up again afterwards.’
He sent her his most charming smile and released her hand. ‘Just a scratch, Honora.’ Turning serious, he changed the subject. ‘Did you ever learn anything more about your thief?’
‘No. Nothing.’
‘Most of the men speak of Katherine or their own estates. I’ve heard not a single mention of the chest. But at least it was recovered.’
‘It isn’t only the chest,’ she admitted. ‘A cross and a chalice were also stolen.’
‘And were they found?’
She shook her head. ‘Not yet. But that isn’t what bothers me most. Neither were valuable. They were made of wood, not silver. I can’t understand why anyone would want them.’
‘I don’t know. But I’ll try to find out anything I can.’ Ewan raised his bandaged arm. ‘I owe you for this.’
‘It was no trouble.’ Honora forced herself to walk calmly to the door, bidding him goodnight, when what she’d really wanted to do was flee back to her room, hiding her burning cheeks beneath the coverlet.
Friends, he’d said. She didn’t know how that would ever be possible.
Ewan waited near the stables, the mid-morning sun casting beams amid the clouds. His brother Bevan had left at dawn to visit with his father-in-law, the Earl of Longford. No doubt the Earl would pressure Bevan to return to Erin, to be at Genevieve’s side for the new birth. Ewan hoped he could convince Katherine to wed him sooner and thereby grant Bevan his wish.
In the meantime, he’d been given a chance to spend time with Katherine. None of the other suitors had done so, to his knowledge, and it boded well for his chances of winning her hand.
Katherine had done her best to tend his wounds last night, though she couldn’t have endured sewing up the gash, the way her sister had. Honora didn’t cringe at the sight of blood or injuries, having sewn up a fair number of them over the years. He could easily see her doing the same for half-a-dozen sons, were she fortunate to bear children.
The thought pricked him. Honora didn’t want to wed, and though he suspected part of it was her reluctance to let a man hold dominion over her, he sensed a shadow from her former marriage. Something had happened, something she would never admit. It bothered him, to think of Honora falling victim to a man, even her husband.
At that moment, Katherine arrived. Her emerald bliaud contrasted against her fair skin and white veil, making her blue eyes appear more vivid.
‘Ewan,’ she greeted him with a smile. Behind her stood Honora, holding a basket. He recalled that Katherine had asked her to accompany them. Once again, Honora appeared desperately uncomfortable, and Ewan hardly blamed her.
‘I hope you are feeling better after yesterday,’ Katherine continued. She drew closer, studying the cut upon his lip.
In truth, his arm still ached, but Ewan said nothing about it. ‘I am, yes.’
‘Good. Then let us ride out. I am weary of these walls.’
Within a few minutes, they were mounted and travelling outside the castle gates. Katherine led the way, while Ewan followed. Honora remained behind at first, but a few moments later, she brought her horse alongside his. She wore a serviceable grey bliaud, her hair hidden by a veil. Only a slim golden girdle around her waist gave any colour. Ill at ease, she offered, ‘I tried to convince her to go alone.’
Her comment was an apology, but he appreciated the effort nonetheless. He shrugged. ‘There are worse places to be than in the company of two beautiful women.’
‘I am not beautiful, and both of us know it. Don’t mock me.’ The words were spoken calmly, not in anger, but by a woman who believed them. Urging her horse forward, Honora joined her sister.
Not beautiful? Did she truly think that? No, she didn’t have the soft beauty of her sister. But the wildness of her and the shorn hair gave Honora an exotic appearance, one that most men did not perceive from the veil she wore.
She had changed, more than he’d realised. Though Honora had always had an intensity to her demeanour, fighting hard and arguing harder, never had he said anything against her looks. Who had convinced her that she was unattractive? Her husband? If that were true, then it was a good thing the bastard was dead.
Katherine drew her mare to a stop near an open clearing. Honora joined her and took the two horses to let them graze. In the distance, shadowed mountains stretched up, covered with green trees. Grey skies dotted with heavy clouds foretold an afternoon rain.
Ewan dismounted, and Honora took the animal from him without asking. By tending the horses, she avoided both of them, giving him and Katherine time to speak alone.
Katherine chose a
large rock to sit upon, green grass spearing up amid the dead growth from last winter. Honora remained closer to the hillside, and she rubbed one of the horses down while studying their surroundings. The wind blew against her veil, revealing a hint of dark hair against her slender neck.
She looked pensive, worry creasing her face. He didn’t know what troubled her, but he suspected it was more than the thief. Her reluctance to confide in him made it seem far worse.
She lifted her eyes to his, and he tried to reassure her without words. Shaking her head, Honora turned away in silent rebuke.
She was right. He had no business interfering in her life, and it wasn’t any of his concern.
‘Ewan, could you help me with this?’
Katherine struggled to lift down a basket of food. His stomach was raging, though it was not nearly time for a meal. He offered a friendly smile and asked, ‘What did you bring with you?’
‘I thought we could enjoy our noon meal out of doors.’
Praise be to the saints. Ewan sent her a hopeful look. ‘Must we truly wait that long?’
‘Not if you are hungry now.’ A laugh escaped her, and she opened the basket. While he helped himself to a cold leg of roasted chicken, Honora was still lagging behind.
‘Are you going to join us?’ he asked.
‘What?’ Honora glanced up and saw the food. ‘No, I’m not hungry.’
He sat with Katherine, wondering what to say to her. This was his first opportunity to demonstrate that he would be an excellent husband for her. And yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing to say, beyond a simple thanks for the food.
Katherine stared down at her hands, but she didn’t attempt a conversation either. Honora was walking through the long grasses, her hand shielding her eyes in the sunlight.
‘Do you think she’ll marry?’ he asked Katherine, nodding towards her sister. The topic of Honora’s future was a safe one.
‘I hope so.’ Katherine studied a piece of cheese as if she intended to hold it, rather than eat it. ‘She deserves to be happy, after what she endured at Ceredys.’
‘And what was that?’
Katherine rubbed her arms, as though it had grown cold. ‘She won’t tell me. But I know she’s angry about what happened there. She doesn’t sleep well at night.’ Lowering her voice, she added, ‘Also, someone has been searching her belongings. I don’t know why, but I’ve found her gowns spread out, as though they were looking for something.’
The thief again. Ewan frowned, for Honora had never mentioned a threat to herself.
‘Does she know about it?’
Katherine shrugged. ‘I’ve tried to keep it from her. She has enough worries. But I’ve alerted Father’s soldiers to keep our chamber guarded at all times.’
‘Good.’
She ventured a conspiratorial smile at him, and Ewan reached out to take her hand. The smooth skin was cool, completely unlike Honora’s roughened palm. Katherine allowed him to hold her hand for a few moments, but when his thumb grazed her palm, she pulled her hand back.
‘What is the matter?’ he asked.
She gripped her hands together, staring off into the distance. ‘It’s my foolishness. And I’m feeling angry at myself for what happened last night. I was weak, when I should have tended the cut on your arm.’
It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. ‘It’s all right.’
‘No, it wasn’t. My sister helped you, when it should have been me.’ Katherine lowered her gaze, as though ashamed of herself. And when she stared at Honora, there was envy in her eyes.
He understood what it meant to compare herself to a sibling. All his life, he’d lived in the shadow of his brothers. But now, he was finally seizing control of his fate. With Katherine as his bride, he could at last be master of his own lands.
To lighten her mood, Ewan suggested, ‘If I slice my arm open again, I’ll call upon you to sew it up.’
Her lips tilted. ‘And as soon as you start to bleed, I’ll likely faint. You’d be better off with a healer.’ She shook her head and sighed. ‘Honora has far more courage than I.’
He didn’t deny it, but neither did he expect Katherine to be the same as her sister. To change the subject, he asked, ‘Is there anyone she might wed?’
‘Sir Ademar asked her to consider him,’ Katherine admitted. Her colour deepened, though Ewan didn’t understand why. ‘He told me last night.’
He’d known that Honora had given Ademar a token, a ribbon. Yet she’d said nothing about him as a possible husband.
Ewan reached into the basket and tore another chicken leg off the roasted fowl. No. Sir Ademar was not at all suitable for Honora. Off the battlefield, the man was far too quiet. Honora would run over him, dominating every aspect of their marriage. She could only live with a man who had the personality to equal her own.
‘Will she accept him as her husband, do you think?’ He kept his question casual, as though he weren’t interested in whether or not Honora intended to marry.
‘Perhaps.’ Katherine broke off another piece of cheese and leaned closer to him. ‘He has been kind to her.’ Raising up the food, she looked directly into his eyes. ‘He’s handsome, too.’
When she placed the cheese in his mouth, Ewan captured her fingertips, kissing them. It was expected of him. But her fingers felt cold beneath his mouth. Katherine’s face turned scarlet, but she did not pull away.
Before he could pursue things further, a noise interrupted them. Horses were approaching at a steady speed.
Ewan broke away and unsheathed his sword. From this distance, he could not see the men, but he would take no chances with their safety. Katherine made a small sound, and he pushed her behind him. From his periphery, he spied Honora clenching her dagger, poised in a fighting stance.
It was three men, armed, but carrying no shields. Ewan at last recognised two of the suitors, Sir Ademar and Beaulais. The third man he hadn’t seen before.
Honora had gone white. She moved beside him, and her fear unnerved him. Nothing and no one had ever frightened Honora.
But this man did.
Chapter Six
Ewan moved beside Honora, keeping Katherine behind them. ‘Who is he?’
‘John St Leger of Ceredys. My husband’s son and the new Baron.’ There was no tremble in her voice, but Honora looked as though she were about to be sick.
Ewan sheathed his sword, but rested his hand upon the hilt. The men drew their horses to a stop, but did not immediately dismount. He wasn’t surprised; it allowed them the physical height advantage.
Katherine stepped forwards to greet them, but Ewan halted her. ‘Wait.’
‘Why are they here?’ she murmured. She glanced at her sister, whose face was the colour of snow.
Honora did not move. Her hands locked around her waist, as though she craved a sword and scabbard. In a low whisper so her sister couldn’t hear, she murmured, ‘Keep him away from me, Ewan.’
He almost wondered if he’d imagined the words. What had this man done to her? But he gave a slight nod, letting her know he’d heard.
Lord Beaulais was the first to dismount, and he sent a false smile towards Katherine. Ewan’s grip tightened on the sword hilt. If Beaulais dared to offend the women, he’d find himself with a few missing limbs.
‘We saw you leaving with the women, MacEgan.’ The nobleman smirked and added, ‘You didn’t think we’d let you have both of them all to yourself, now did you?’
Ewan folded his arms and regarded Beaulais. ‘I don’t recall Lady Katherine inviting any of you.’
‘Her father invited all of us,’ Beaulais corrected.
Sir Ademar cast a fleeting glance at Katherine. He didn’t speak to her, nor smile, but something provoked Ewan’s suspicions. There was an uneasiness in the knight’s demeanour, as though he had come to prevent the other two from an attack.
But right now, his greater concern was Honora. Ewan took a step closer to her, even as Sir Ademar dismounted.
Th
e knight approached them, though his gaze flickered back to the men. ‘I am glad to see you this morn, m-my Lady Honora. You look…’ he struggled to find the right words ‘…very fine. That is, I mean…your face is like a…’
‘A diamond. A pearl. Just choose a damned jewel and be done with it,’ Beaulais shot back.
Katherine glared at the nobleman, and nodded for Ademar to continue. The knight knelt before them, his face crimson. Ewan almost pitied the man.
Certainly Honora did, for she accepted the knight’s hand and nodded for him to rise. ‘Thank you for your kindness, Sir Ademar.’
The softness on her face caught Ewan by surprise. He was accustomed to seeing her in fierce concentration, as though she were facing an enemy. But at this moment, she became gentle, reminding him that she was female and desirable.
Ewan didn’t like the way she was looking at the knight, even if the man’s intentions were honourable. Honora smiled at Ademar, and Ewan wanted to tear her hand away from his. It was an irrational thought, for what did it matter if she chose to wed the knight? It was one less suitor competing for Katherine’s hand. But it bothered him more than it should have.
A moment later, after she drew back, he felt the soft touch of Honora’s hand upon his spine. What was she doing? He nearly jerked away, so startled was he to feel her hand upon him. She moved her palm towards the dagger sheathed at his side.
She had her own weapon…why the need for a second blade? Then again, he didn’t trust Beaulais not to start a fight.
Katherine exchanged a glance with Sir Ademar and offered an excuse. ‘We were about to return to Ardennes, weren’t we? If you’d like to accompany us back—’
‘I fear we interrupted your meal.’ Beaulais gestured to the basket of provisions with a rueful smile. ‘There’s no need to return so soon.’
To her credit, Katherine did not invite the men to join them. ‘I’m afraid there isn’t really enough.’ She offered an apologetic smile. ‘I had packed provisions for only three of us. If we return to the castle, I would be pleased to offer a more fitting meal there, for you and the others. You must allow me to do so, as your hostess.’
Taming Her Irish Warrior Page 7