Benches overturned as others rose to their feet, raising their cups in toasts, each bawdier than the last.
Time to get the people dancing before a fight broke out. On his way back to his seat, Ralph paused by the musicians’ platform. “Start the caroles.”
As the first notes rang out, there was a ripple of movement around the hall as people rose, and servants hurried to move the trestle tables and benches to the sides of the hall. Once the lower end of the hall was cleared, dancers formed a circle at the far end of the room.
Ralph slipped back into his seat and smiled to see Katherine tapping her fingers against her wine cup.
“I’m tempted to issue a command.”
“I’m not in the mood for obedience. Anyway, I don’t know the steps.”
Another puzzle. “It’s simple. Just dance around in a circle.” Who didn’t know how to dance a carole?
“I’d prefer to watch.”
And that seemed to be the truth. She leaned forward, watching the dancers with an intense concentration that reminded him of a monk he had once observed, copying out the scriptures, so intent on his task that he’d been deaf to all around him. Katherine was drinking in the scene as though trying to impress every detail on her memory.
“You act as though you’ve never seen a carole.” It wasn’t a question. He waited to see how she would respond.
“I’ve seen pictures, but it’s not the same.”
He shook his head, trying to form a statement from the myriad questions crowding his mind. “You must come from a strange place.” It was the best he could manage.
She gave a small smile. Secretive. “It feels like another country.”
An odd reply, which provoked more questions. Whether it was the wine, the music, or her beguiling presence he couldn’t tell, but he couldn’t think of a way to frame them as statements. Stealing a glance at her, it hit him how much he was enjoying her company as well as her beauty. She presented a challenge. And he always enjoyed a challenge.
Yet again she was tapping her fingers in time with the music. Acting on impulse, he rose.
“I believe you’ve had enough time to study the steps.” He gestured towards the dancers. “Come with me.”
At first she hesitated, as though contemplating refusal. Ralph was almost looking forward to the battle. However, a slow smile spread across her face, lighting it with a beauty that made him catch his breath. She rose and lifted the hem of her gown. “I hope you won’t regret it when I trip all the dancers into a tangled heap.”
“It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”
He took her arm and steered her to a circle of dancers who wheeled just below the dais. The dancers formed a space for them, and soon they were dancing the simple steps and joining in with the refrain. Every time he glanced Katherine’s way, he saw her laughing and smiling, her skirts swishing around her legs, allowing him an occasional enticing glimpse of shapely ankles. Her leaf green gown, with its decoration of seed pearls around the sleeves, neckline, and girdle, perfectly matched the mistletoe suspended from the rafters above them.
All too soon the music ended. Katherine turned to him, breathless and glowing from the dance. “I don’t want to stop. I was just getting it right!”
As if in response, the musicians started another tune. This one was slower, with a plaintive refrain and a rhythm that stirred the blood.
His mother approached and held out her hand to Katherine. “Stand with me.” Eleanor took her hand and led her to form a ring with the other women. Ralph joined the men inside the women’s circle, facing them.
The dance began, the men turning one way, the women the other. As he moved around the room, a blur of candlelight and the swirling skirts of the women filled his vision. Every so often the carolers would stop turning and dance on the spot. When that happened, each man was supposed to look into the eyes of the woman opposite. Each time the circling stopped and he saw a woman who was not Katherine, he felt a growing frustration. No matter how he tried to hold the gaze of the woman before him, he couldn’t resist seeking out Katherine.
Then, as the dance came to a close, he stopped in front of her. Their eyes locked. He couldn’t have moved even had he wanted to. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled, the remains of her animated smile still curving her lips. He had to stop himself from taking her in his arms and tasting those lips for himself.
His desire must be blazing in his eyes, knew by the rapid rise and fall of her chest that she had seen it. She groped for her missing pendant and lowered her eyelids. But not soon enough to mask her own longing.
****
Kat’s heart sped up, competing with the drum-beat. She couldn’t drag her gaze from Ralph. The lamplight sparkled in his eyes, highlighting flecks of amber in their depths. It was getting difficult to drag air into her lungs. It must be the hundreds of candles, burning up all the oxygen in the room. Nothing to do with how Ralph dominated her vision. Invaded her thoughts.
The tempo of the music changed, and the dancers circled again, sweeping her with them. Bloody hell, what were these people on? If she didn’t stop for breath soon, she’d pass out. It didn’t help that every time she looked at Ralph her body became disconnected from her brain, and she couldn’t seem to work out what to do with her arms and legs.
The circling stopped. Yet again she was opposite Ralph; their eyes met with a jolt. She rocked on her toes as though an invisible force pulled her toward him.
Someone crashed into her side. Tearing her gaze from Ralph, she noticed the other dancers performing intricate skipping steps to the left and right. Face burning with mortification, she tried to copy them but went the wrong way and bumped into the woman to her left. “Sorry!” she gasped.
Then the circling resumed, and she was forced to disentangle herself and do a skipping run to keep up. If she didn’t escape soon, there would be carnage. It was all Ralph’s fault. If he didn’t keep distracting her with that smoldering gaze, she wouldn’t be having this problem.
Seeing that the dance had brought her close to the high table, she took her chance and broke free from the circle. She stumbled to her seat, tripping over her hem and bumping against people in her haste. Once there, she picked up her wine cup, her hands trembling so much she had to grasp it with both hands, and took several gulps, the spices burning her throat.
Where was Ralph? He hadn’t followed her. Not that she was disappointed. That stab in her gut was simply to do with swallowing her drink too quickly. It didn’t take long to spot him. He was impossible to miss, the way the light seemed to concentrate in a glow around him. He’d also left the dance and stood at one of the lower tables, talking to the man she had seen him with earlier.
As she watched, Ralph took a small bundle from the man and tucked it into a pouch at his belt. Then he strode around the hall, stopping every now and again to exchange greetings with his people, not only the more richly dressed men and women occupying places close to the dais, but those who were clearly of a lower rank. He certainly seemed popular. Everyone leaned forward eagerly to gain his attention, and Ralph appeared genuinely interested in each person. Everyone also looked well fed and healthy. Not something she’d expected considering the state of medieval health care. Then again, Whitwell had a reliable, clean water supply: the Whitwell spring was renowned for its purity and had made her family’s fortune. The bottling plant set up by her great-grandfather had enabled them to retain their manor when other old families were forced to sell their ancestral homes. If she was going to be stuck in the twelfth century, this was the place she would choose.
But then there was Ralph. She glanced across the hall, picking him out with ease from the group clustered around him. Her insides knotted. The way he made her feel…it was too soon. This wasn’t how she had planned her reintroduction to relationships. With Rob, they had started as friends. It had been years before their relationship had evolved from that of childhood friends to sweethearts. When they had finally made love, the summer before
going to university, it had felt like a homecoming. Rob made her feel cherished. Safe.
But this…whatever she felt when Ralph was near…it wasn’t safe. It was wild, a deep, primal urge. She burned with a heat that surely couldn’t last. And when it went out, what then? She’d be lost again. Alone again.
A light touch to the hand made her jump. She looked round to see Ralph standing at her shoulder, regarding her with the same intense gaze that seemed to see into her soul. Heat flooded her cheeks. What if he could read her thoughts? See the sensual images his presence provoked?
“I’ve got something for you.” I bet you have.
His hand went to his belt. The belt slung low on lean hips. The belt Kat’s fingers itched to unbuckle.
She tore her gaze away. “Do you always creep up on people like that?” Sodding hell! There she went again—snapping at whoever got too close. Why be embarrassed about her attraction? It was obvious he felt the same way, so he was hardly likely to be offended.
It wasn’t as if she planned to do anything about it.
Ralph’s brows drew together, but he replied in mild tones. “Only when they don’t hear me call their name. Several times.”
“Ah. Sorry. I was in a daydream.” Please don’t ask what it was about.
A speculative gleam lit his eyes, and he drew a breath.
No! She couldn’t do this. She shoved back her chair and rose. “Excuse me. I…need some air.”
Heart hammering, she stumbled from the dais, lowering her head to avoid his gaze. She aimed for the courtyard doors. At least, she thought she did. When she looked up she found she’d ended up in one of the shadowy recesses at the far end of the hall. Great. She’d have to walk back past the dais to reach the doors.
She leaned against a pillar, swallowing to clear the sudden ache in her throat. What on earth had possessed her to throw that damned coin into the mere? At least before she’d been alone in the comfort of her own home. Now she was lost in a strange place, assailed by powerful feelings, with no way to escape.
“Are you ill?” Ralph stepped from behind one of the garlanded columns.
She closed her eyes briefly. Of course he would follow her.
She managed to force her lips into a smile, but she couldn’t summon the energy for any more biting retorts. “I’m fine. I said I needed some air.” In this dark, claustrophobic alcove.
“You left before I could give you this.” He held out his hand, and Kat saw a soft leather bag in his palm, closed with a drawstring.
A gift? For her? She had to press her fingers to her lips, which suddenly trembled. No one had given her anything other than a P45 in nearly two years.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see.”
“You didn’t have to—”
“I know. Open it.”
She took the bag and untied the cord. After a quick glance at Ralph, whose face gave nothing away, she tipped the contents into her hand. There was a flash of silver and a tangle of brown leather. She stared, uncomprehending, long enough for the chain of dancers to perform a complete circle. Finally she picked up the silver disc and held it up to the candlelight. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel the blood beating in her fingertips.
“It’s my penny.” Her lips were so stiff from shock she could hardly form the words. “Where did you find it?” Had he fished it out of the lake after she had thrown it in?
“It’s not the one you lost.” Ralph leaned over her, his breath brushing her cheek. “It’s one I already had. Gave it to my armorer and asked him to punch a hole in it. There wasn’t time to make a chain, so he just threaded a leather thong through it.”
She turned the penny this way and that between her finger and thumb, her hands trembling so much she fumbled, and it slipped from her fingers.
Before she could react, Ralph’s hand shot out and caught it. He pressed it back into her hand, his fingers skimming her palm. She sucked in a breath as jolts of pleasure shot down her spine. The alarm bells that had caused her to flee before were fading. This time she gave in to her impulse and leaned against his shoulder.
She really needed air now. No matter how she struggled to draw breath, nothing eased the sudden tightness in her chest. She dared to raise her eyes to his face. A wave of dizziness washed over her when their eyes met. She clutched his forearm to regain her balance. Not the brightest idea she’d ever had: the feel of steely muscle through his fine woolen sleeve only made her heart beat faster.
“Thank you.” Her voice was strained. Husky. She cleared her throat. “It’s perfect.” Tearing her gaze away, she traced the raised cross on the coin’s reverse. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
How could she? There was no way to explain to him that this was the exact same coin she had thrown into the mere, just one night ago and over eight hundred years in the future. It wasn’t simply that the coin held the same design. The irregular notch to one side of the hole, the dent above the king’s eye and the deep groove through one of the arms of the short cross on the reverse…there was no doubt that this coin and hers were one and the same.
Chapter Seven
The back of her neck prickled, and this time it was nothing to do with the stir of desire caused by Ralph’s nearness. She couldn’t shake off the feeling that some higher power was trying to send her a message. For a moment she felt dizzy, as though she stood on the edge of a precipice.
“Let me put it on for you.”
Ralph plucked the coin from her hand and moved to stand behind her. With the lightest of touches, he pulled aside her veil and the thick braid beneath, then his fingertips brushed her throat. She closed her eyes, a shudder of longing surging through her body. She didn’t understand how it was possible to feel this way, but she no longer cared. All she knew was she craved his touch, and if the universe had conspired to bring them together, who was she to argue?
Ralph’s hands moved to the nape of her neck, then he moved back. Kat choked back a cry of disappointment at the loss of contact. She turned, and he placed his hands upon her waist, heat radiating from the two points of contact.
She raised her hand to her throat and smiled when it encountered the familiar feel of the penny. “Thank you for giving it back to me.”
She leaned closer, breathing in his scent of leather and spices. She couldn’t resist any longer. Raising herself on tiptoe, she braced her hands on his forearms and pressed her mouth to his.
For a brief instant she froze with shock at the unfamiliar feel of a mouth other than Rob’s. Then he gave a groan and pulled her flush against his body, so close she couldn’t tell if the frantic heartbeat belonged to him or her. She opened her lips, sliding her tongue against his. Every inch of her flesh was sensitized, aware of the rub of fabric, his hands tracing circles upon the small of her back, the friction of his stubble against her cheek, a pleasing contrast to the silk of his mouth. The blood roared in her ears. As he trailed kisses down her throat, she wove her fingers through his hair, urging him lower.
This was nothing like kissing Rob.
Rob!
She pressed her hands to Ralph’s chest and pushed him back. “Stop. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
She backed away and put her hands to her veil, fumbling to straighten it. She shot a glance into the hall. Thank goodness no one was looking their way. “What if someone saw us?” She was no expert on twelfth-century behavior. Would they be expected to marry if they were seen kissing?
Ralph nodded. “Forgive me.” Although the lopsided smile made him look anything but sorry. He reached up and tugged her veil into place. His fingers brushed her jaw, sending shivers through her flesh. How could he look so unconcerned when she felt like she would burn to a crisp? It was a sure sign she’d been right to end the kiss.
She had to escape. Get away from Ralph. Not because she didn’t want his embrace, but because she yearned for him with a hunger that terrified her.
Muttering her excuses, she fled the hall.
****
He wouldn’t look at Katherine. He would concentrate on the Mass.
Ralph’s resolution lasted until the priest chanted the opening lines of the Gloria, then his attention drifted to Katherine, who stood on the other side of his mother. She gazed ahead, although she seemed more interested in the painted wall behind the altar than the priest. Her profile was as serene as one of the angel faces carved into the roof corbels. There was no trace of the passionate, impulsive woman who had initiated yesterday’s kiss.
That kiss. Heat flooded his body as he recalled the feel of her in his arms, the softness of her lips, her intoxicating taste, sweeter than honeyed wine.
He wrenched his gaze away and focused on a painting of a leper, his body covered with sores. Weeping sores. The face twisted in agony. Anything to quell this sudden wave of arousal, and a stern reminder of the suffering his soul would merit if he allowed his passions to overcome his good sense and failed to do his duty. And his duty was to maintain his father’s achievements, not allow all his good work to be undone.
If word reached Lord Hywel that he’d been seen tangled with another woman in the great hall, he’d never allow his daughter to marry him. Without that alliance, Whitwell would fall.
Thoughts of duty battled with memories of Katherine’s kiss throughout Mass. It was a relief when the service came to an end. He marched for the door, the congregation parting to make way for him. A day’s hunting with his knights would work off this…restlessness.
He came to an abrupt halt when the heavy door swung open. Thick snow fell into the courtyard so hard it blotted out the buildings on the other side.
A soft cry sounded beside him, and his body awoke to Katherine’s presence. “I wanted to go to the mere.”
“Absolutely not. It’s not safe.” His voice came out harsher than intended, but he couldn’t understand her fascination with the mere. Or perhaps it was the way she seemed to associate it with her way home. He didn’t know why the thought of her leaving should irritate him; after the kiss, her presence made his alliance with Lord Hywel all the more precarious. “You’re to stay inside.”
The Gift of Time Page 5