Again (9 page)

Brandi looked over at Eryn, scowl still set.  “God, you’re so skinny.”
 
She looked at her own waist.  “I’m still working on these love handles here.”  She pinched some skin between her fingers.

“You’re kidding, right?”  Eryn asked incredulous.  “If you lose any more weight, you’ll be a poster child for anorexia.”

Brandi dismissed Eryn’s reaction.  “It’s the way of the world, girlfriend.  Gotta do what it takes to get ahead.”

It was hard for Eryn not to worry about Brandi.
 
She was like a sister to her.
 
Over the years she had watched Brandi nearly break in her efforts to bend to the demands of the fickle Hollywood scene.
 
She jumped from man to man, molding herself to be what they wanted, and when they tired of her, Eryn was there to pick up the pieces.

“What are you looking at?”
 
Brandi had lowered her glasses to peer at Eryn.

Eryn hadn’t realized she was staring.  “Nothing.  I was just thinking.  Sorry about that.”  She finished drying off, gathered her towel, lotion, and envelope and headed for the house. “I’ll be here for a bit.  I’ll let you know when I leave.”

“I want a full update on…what’s his name...Troy?
 
See if he’s got a girlfriend, will ya?”

“You got it,” Eryn called over her shoulder. 
 
She smiled.
 
She should set them up.
 
Who knows?
 
They might just be good for each other.

Chapter 8

Catherine woke before the sunrise, feeling hollow-eyed and tired.  The events of last night wore on her even as she slept.
 
She slipped out of the bed, drawing the bedcovers close to her body to ward off the chill lingering in the air.
 
The stones beneath her feet were as cool as the morning air wafting through the window, bathing her face with its crispness.
 
Outside, the grounds were still swaddled in that moment between night and day, when time weighted in the balance, almost undecided as to what to do next.
 
Catherine held her breath and counted the seconds.
 
Reluctantly the night released its grip as the morning light began to unfold, luxuriously stretching its light across the pale hills, reaching towards the sea.
 
She relaxed, letting her breath out slowly in concert with the rising sun.

The evening past had drawn on endlessly as Lord Oakley’s leering stares and inappropriate remarks escalated with each tankard of ale he emptied.
 
Beside her, Galen had endured her father’s guest in strained silence.
 
Though Catherine sat between the two men, she had proved to be a poor buffer, for Lord Oakley took thorough pleasure in baiting Galen.  She could see by the tightening of Galen’s strong jaw, the flexing of his hands, that if Lord Oakley had not been under the roof of her father, Galen would have gladly taken the nobleman apart limb by limb.

On more than one occasion she heard the word
marriage
pass across Lord Oakley’s thin, twisted lips, but much to her relief, her father dismissed the idea.
 
Though his lands bordered their own, and such a union would strengthen their holdings, she knew her father loved her enough not to force her into a marriage with someone as vile as Lord Oakley.

Catherine rubbed her arms vigorously, but could not suppress the cold feeling when she thought about him.
 
So long as he was within the castle walls, she felt the need to escape.
 
In a short time her father and Lord Oakley would be headed towards the open hills, but until then, she would ride to the ocean and stay there until the stench of the man’s presence was gone.

She turned on her heel and crossed her bedchamber, dropping the bedcovers to the floor as she pulled on a red velvet robe.
 
Quietly, she opened her door and stole down the hall to the room where the maidservants slept.
 
Slipping in and closing the door behind her, she crossed over to where Emelie lay sleeping.

Catherine spoke with hushed urgency, gently shaking her shoulder.
 
“Make haste, Emelie. You must rise!”

“Milady! Is something wrong?”
 
She sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“Shh!”
 
Catherine put her finger to her lips.
 
“Ready yourself and then come to my chambers.
 
I wish to ride this morning before the others arise!”
 
Turning to Elizabeth, who was now awake, Catherine said, “Tell Jarrid to ready our horses, and be quick about it.
 
Speak to no one of my plans.”

Elizabeth wasted no time in scrambling to her feet.

Back in her chambers, Catherine felt the urgency grow as the light outside began to spread.
 
Impatiently, she pulled on a burgundy velvet gown with gold-beaded trim above the elbows and waist and gold silk that peeked out from the slashed sleeves and skirt.

Emelie hurried in, lending a hand to tie the laces at the back of the dress and then to tuck Catherine’s hair into a tight braid.

Signaling for her maid to keep quiet, Catherine headed for the stairs leading to the kitchen, preferring to avoid the great hall where many of the guests would lie, having fallen asleep in their drunken stupor.

The cook, a jolly, plump woman, was the only one about, busy preparing breads and meats for Lord Roberts and his guests that morning.
 
Startled by the sudden presence of her mistress, she dropped into a deep curtsy.
 
Catherine waived it away as she hurried out the door to the courtyard.

Catherine focused on the two figures ahead of her, Elizabeth and Jarrid, who obediently stood holding the horses.
 
She could hear Emelie’s panting breath behind her as Catherine’s long strides brought her fast to the stables.
 
Without a word, Catherine took Jarrid’s hand as he assisted her onto her saddle and looked around impatiently, waiting for Emelie to mount her horse.
 
Confident that no one was watching them depart, Catherine urged her horse toward the gates.
 
It was not until their horses were a good distance from the castle walls that Catherine began to relax.
 

Turning her head, she hid a smile.
 
What, Catherine wondered, must Emelie be thinking? One moment she was awoken from sleep, the next moment the poor girl is atop a horse, all before the birds had stirred.
 
Still, Catherine had not offered her any explanation, for her reasons to leave the castle this morning were her own.
 
Lord Oakley would be staying with them for a few days and Catherine had no desire to feel the lecherous eyes of Lord Oakley dirty her any more than she was required to.
 
She turned her horse for the port, determined to put as much distance between them as possible.

≈

Galen had awoken early that morning, still sorely agitated from Lord Oakley’s goading.
 
He felt helpless at not being able to strike back at Lord Oakley for his words, his lewd expressions toward Catherine, and the smug looks that Lord Oakley directed his way.
 
Under the table Galen had found Catherine’s hands, clenched in tight fists, and held them in his, trying to protect her as well as he could.
 
Loathsome or not, Lord Oakley was Lord Roberts’ guest, and by Lord Roberts’ law, all guests were to be treated with respect.

He put his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Today would be a hard day of training, Galen thought, sharpening his skills as well as the squires’.
 
He would fashion a post and hay in the likeness of Lord Oakley, and shred it to ribbons.
 
Though it would bring immense satisfaction to him, it would do little to ease Catherine’s mind.
 
She spoke little last night, but he knew only too well the contempt she held for Lord Oakley.

It was no secret that Lord Oakley had an interest in Catherine.
 
It was apparent that Lord Roberts had no intention of entertaining Lord Oakley’s repeated requests for Catherine’s hand in marriage, but that did little to put Galen at ease.
 
Lord Oakley was a constant thorn in his side.

Catherine is mine, Galen thought fiercely, and always will be.

Unable to lie still any longer, he got up and crossed his chamber to the chair where his clothes lay.
 
As he passed the window, movement at the gate caught his eye.
 
His brow furrowed as he watched Catherine’s and Emelie’s horses race away from the castle.

Chapter 9

“Ok, Eryn.  I guess we can stop now.”  Troy began unhooking the gear he had strapped to his waist. “I’m sure you have plenty of shots I can use.”

Eryn rolled her neck to loosen up the muscles.  The past three hours had been a new and welcome experience for her, having never before explored the sports side of photography.
 
She was actually excited about the pictures she’d gotten.
 
The strain of gripping the rock, his arms and legs pushing his body upwards, showed off the contour of Troy’s lean, hard muscles.  Definitely not a difficult subject to look at through the lens, she thought.

He was roguishly handsome, even more so than Eryn remembered from the party.  He was definitely not a suit man.  Outdoors was his element, among the water, the cliffs, and the sun.

She couldn’t deny he was attractive and that he had a certain amount of charisma, but there was also something about him that bothered her, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
 
His smile was smooth and persuasive, his eyes cool and calculating with a hint of malice.
 
With his good looks and endless charm, though, she had no doubt he could seduce a woman into instant submission if given the chance.

“Oh, I think you’ll like what I got.”  Eryn turned and began packing up her flashes and stands.  “You’re a natural.”

“You just bring out the best in me.”  He was suddenly behind her, giving her little room to move between him and her camera case. 

Startled, she turned quickly and lost her footing in the soft sand.
 
She cursed softly, struggling to maintain her balance.

He caught her around her waist.  “Gotcha.”

For the longest moment they stood inches apart, his hands firmly on her hips, holding her steady.  She felt the smoldering heat from his eyes as they traveled down the length of her neck, pausing when he spotted her wildly beating pulse in the soft hollow of her throat.  A satisfied smile played upon his mouth.  Suddenly, she
did
feel like the prey.
 
Oh, he was good.

“Yes.  I think I definitely need to hire you again,” he murmured.  “Maybe a family portrait.”

So, he is married after all, she thought with relief.  Eryn gently grasped his wrists and took his hands off of her while carefully stepping sideways.
 
Somebody had to keep this professional.
 
She guessed that would be her.

“Sure.
 
Anytime.  How many children to you have?”

“One, if you can count my dog as a kid.”  His eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a knee-weakening grin.

She wondered if he practiced that or if it came naturally.
 
That smile probably got him everything he wanted.

“Sometimes that’s all a couple needs,” Eryn said.
 
“A dog, I mean.”

“Couple?  No, it’s just me and Duke, living the bachelor life.”

“So you’re not married?”  She realized that came out with a little too much enthusiasm.

“Why, are you interested?” he teased.

“No,” she said quickly, not wanting him to get the wrong impression.  “I have a friend.  She was at the party last night.”

“I’m pretty sure I checked out all the women there.  You were by far the most attractive.”

He’s relentless, she thought, shaking her head.
 
She squatted down to put her lenses in the case and then snapped the case closed.  Standing up, she faced him.  “And very married.”

“That doesn’t make you any less attractive to me.”  His attention drifted over her shoulder to something behind her.  “Hey, Bryce.  Here to watch your wife in action?”  He winked at her.

Eryn spun around, feeling a cold sweat pop out of every pore on her body.
 
She should have known Bryce couldn’t stay away, but his timing could not have been worse.

Tension throbbed in Bryce’s clenched jaw.
 
“How’s it going, Troy?”

Troy turned and walked to his gear.  “You’ve got quite a wife there, Bryce.  She’s a real professional.”  He stuffed the ropes and other gear into his bags and slung them over his shoulder.
 
“Call me when you have those ready,” he said to Eryn. “I’d like to look them over with you.”

He’s tormenting Bryce on purpose, Eryn thought, flashing Troy a warning glare.
 
She could almost
hear
Bryce’s muscles tighten up.