Hearts Across Time (The Knights of Berwyck: A Quest Through Time Novel ~ Books 1 & 2) (30 page)

“
H
old
!”

Katherine’s steps faltered at the sound of Riorden’s command. She took a deep steady breath to calm her nerves, despite the smell that penetrated her senses. It almost caused her to lose what little was left in her stomach from breakfast. Looking at the floor, it didn’t appear that it would make much of a difference if she added to the decaying mess beneath her feet.

Raising her chin to prove, at the very least to herself, she could handle the situation, she turned. Good Lord above, who was she kidding? She couldn’t handle the situation at all! Her breath left her, as if someone had punched her, while her heart leapt to her throat upon seeing another wrapped in her husband’s comforting embrace. In an automatic reflex, her hand immediately went to her stomach as if to protect his child she carried within her. For whatever reason, Katherine knew her baby would be in danger once Marguerite became aware of her condition. A cold feeling of dread filled her with a premonition of what was to come. It shook her to the very core of her being.

He quickly disentangled himself from the clinging arms firmly wrapped around his neck. Marguerite was far from pleased. She almost appeared appalled that Riorden did not fall to his knees to worship the ground she stood on. Katherine almost smiled, thinking even Riorden would not subject his hose to what would be forever left within the fabric if he were to do so.

“Do not leave, Katherine,” Riorden proclaimed as he came to stand next to her, taking her hand.

“What is the meaning of this, Riorden?” Marguerite screeched.

Katherine felt herself being pulled to his side as he gently raised her hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Riorden!” Marguerite whined loudly.

He ignored the offensive woman, much to Katherine’s delight. “Forgive me,
ma petite
,” he murmured softly in her ear.

“Please tell me that will never happen again, Riorden,” Katherine answered in a hushed tone. “I don’t know if my heart could stand it.”

Marguerite stomped her foot. Katherine was afraid to see what disgusting objects went flying onto their clothes. “Would someone tell me just what is going on here? Riorden, you have much to explain. Who is this woman?”

Katherine gave him a small smile of understanding and watched him turn back to the woman he once proclaimed to love.

“I have been remiss in introductions it seems, although you hardly gave me the chance,” Riorden began. “Marguerite, may I present my wife. This is Katherine.”

“
Wife
?” she screamed.

“Aye, we wed at Berwyck over three fortnights ago.”

“But the king promised me that we would wed,” Marguerite pouted and began wringing her hands. “He gave me his word.”

“’Tis clear His Majesty spoke his intentions afore he was informed of my wedding, but that is of no consequence now,” Riorden said, and Katherine observed Marguerite’s face turn red with rage.

“Of no consequence?” Marguerite gasped.

Katherine listened as Marguerite began sputtering away in Norman French. It was apparent the lady wasn’t pleased, and she supposed, if she were standing in the woman’s shoes, she might have felt the same. Her arguments continued, with Riorden now joining in, as the two verbal combatants began shouting at one another. Katherine’s eyes narrowed, and her brow furrowed when Marguerite began shaking her fist in her direction. This aggressive act was followed by laughter, leaving Katherine wondering what she had said. Based upon Riorden’s reaction, Katherine could only surmise that she had just insulted his wife.

“Enough, Marguerite!” Riorden declared, holding up his hand to silence any further speech. He turned to his brother. “Gavin, please do me the favor of escorting our ladies from the stench of this place and see if the Garrison Hall is in any better shape. I will not allow Katherine to become ill from the filth residing within these walls. ’Til this hall meets my approval that it has been sufficiently cleaned, it remains off limits to Katherine and Brianna.”

Katherine felt slightly miffed that he would be ordering her on what she could or could not do, but if it got her out of this room before she threw up, she was all for it. She tugged on his sleeve to get his attention, and he leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. “I don’t trust her, Riorden.”

She felt his lips as he kissed her forehead. “She is naught but a woman, my dear, and no longer has any hold on my heart. Rest assured.”

“I will not rest assured anything, darling, until you send her on her merry way,” Katherine huffed. “Be careful.”

“There is nothing for you to worry your pretty head about, my sweet.”

“Ha! You obviously haven’t heard about the fury of a woman scorned,” she replied sourly. She took one last glance at Riorden before she reluctantly left the hall without him. A feeling of unease overcame her. She had the notion the green eyed monster of jealousy would be rearing its ugly head to taunt her far sooner than she would have expected!

R
iorden took
one last look at his wife whilst she left the Great Hall afore turning back to a woman who was already trying his patience. She was still just as lovely as he remembered her, albeit ten years older. For the most part, the years had been kind to her, and, based on the way she was attired, she still ensured she was dressed in her finest to impress. He wished he could say the same thing about the state of his hall. There was nothing impressive about the filth surrounding him.

As she stood there in the gloomy interior, her eyes began to dart to and fro with worry, and he wondered what was going on inside her head. He didn’t have to wait long but should not have been surprised when she gazed at him yet again as she all but silently implored him to save her from the horror of her life. Her eyes held a look of fright, and he thought mayhap his brother was right when he stated she was going mad.

She reached out her hands to him. “Please...I beg of you Riorden! Take me away from this place where we can be together.”

He ignored her. “Why does my hall smell as if the contents of the garderobe have been dumped here?” Riorden demanded.

Marguerite began yanking at her hair. “’Tis him. He has warned me not to touch a thing.”

“Who would dare such?”

Her tear filled eyes beseeched him to understand. “’Tis your father, Riorden. He never gives me a moment’s peace if I leave my chamber. He said I would pay if I touched the hall. He wants it the way ’twas at his passing.”

Riorden cared not to hear any more of her babbling whilst he looked about at the remnants of the feast that had been laid out many months afore. He took her elbow and began ushering her towards the stairs. “Are the upper chambers in any better condition?” he inquired with hope.

“Just mine,” she whispered. “He only allows one serf to come and see to my needs. The rest are afraid to go against his wishes.”

“What of the kitchen and cellars below? Are we prepared for the coming winter?”

“How am I to know this, Riorden?” she hissed with frustration. “Are you not listening that he has basically made me a prisoner in my own keep?”

“Show me where you rest.” He followed her lead whilst she clung to his arm as if ’twas the only thing that protected her from whatever evil tortured her mind. He opened the door to one of the smaller chambers and ushered her inside. She seemingly grew in confidence and became the old Marguerite he remembered once in the safety of her chamber.

Her eyes were cold as a winter storm when she turned to him. “Get rid of her,” she commanded then turned her back to him and crossed the room.

She went to a nearby table, picked up a brush, and began running it through her hair. ’Twas as if she specifically reminded him of how he had once told her he loved to watch as the brush made its way through the length of her tresses.

“Nay. She is my wife and goes nowhere.”

“Bah! She is a plain little hen who dresses as a man. Any true lady of worth should not display herself so. As you can see, I am far more attractive and know how to dress to keep your attention.”

“She is beautiful to me, and how she dresses herself or anything else concerning her is none of your damn business, Marguerite,” Riorden voiced, trying to calm his anger that rose whilst she insulted his wife.

“You deserve someone with beauty to rival your own rugged handsomeness...you deserve me.”

“Harrumph! I believe I made that mistake once afore, Marguerite. I do not plan to travel down the same road again,” Riorden announced. Did she actually think him so shallow that seeing her lovely face would make him forget their past history and her betrayal?

She put her brush down and came back to him with a hungry look in her eyes. “Put her away somewhere then, Riorden,” she purred, running her fingers up his tunic, “and we can be together, like we should have been years afore.”

As he did earlier, Riorden removed her hands from his chest with a scowl. “’Tis you who will be leaving, Marguerite,” he declared, making his way towards the door. “Prepare yourself to move to your Dower House as soon as it can be arranged.”

“But, Riorden, you do not understand,” she cried out. “He vowed to make my life as miserable as I made his if I dare leave Warkworth or this room.”

He turned and looked her straight in the eye without compassion. “That, Marguerite, is your problem, not mine.”

Riorden left her standing in the middle of her chamber, sputtering words about his demise and damning him to hell.
Merde!
He did not have to worry about how his afterlife would be spent. With Marguerite around, he already was living in perdition!

M
arguerite’s eyes
narrowed as she watched Riorden leave without a backwards glance. She plopped herself down on her bed in a huff. By the Blessed Virgin Mary, the man was even more handsome than she remembered. Afore he was still young at heart with the foolish notion that love would make all aright. But now...now he had gained the maturity of a man full grown and in command of all around him. She would do all in her path to have him once more.

She felt a cold chill pass through her, as if her late husband were displeased with her thoughts. If she had known what her life would now entail, she would not have played such a role in her husband’s early demise.

A low moan filled her chamber that was not her own, and she rushed to the bed, throwing the covers over her head in protection. She knew not how, but she had to leave Warkworth, and soon. If she stayed much longer, she was not sure if her sanity would remain intact, or if she would have much left of her mind.

K
atherine and Brianna
made their way through the postern gate with their guards walking several paces both in front and behind them. Wildflowers in their hands, they shared a whispered secret between themselves about the handsome men who had accompanied them today. Their laughter rang out, and they quickly covered their mouths to hide their merriment when two of the knights looked to see what amused them so.

The morning had started out lovely, and, with the rising sun, Katherine had felt the need to put their bed chamber in order. Used to modern day nick knacks, the room seemed barren, and she had wanted to find something to brighten up the place. Still trying to adjust to the time period she would now be living in, she had found Riorden and asked if it would be all right for her and Brianna to walk the grounds outside the castle walls. She should not have been surprised when he assigned her a half dozen knights to ensure their safety. This need for constant protection still took some getting used to.

Espying young Mary, she motioned to the girl and asked her to find two vases for their flowers. The young girl quickly scampered off to do her bidding. Taking their blanket they had brought with them, Katherine spread it out on the grass in the inner bailey. Sitting down, she crossed her legs and gazed around her, enjoying the view. It wasn’t until a soft clearing of one of the guard’s throat broke into her musing that she realized he awaited her notice.

“I’m sorry,” Katherine spoke in embarrassment, having forgotten all about her guard and now trying desperately to remember his name. “Did I forget something?”

He gave her a short bow. “Will there be anything else I may do for you, Countess de Deveraux, afore I return to my regular duties?”

“Please, call me Katherine,” she urged.

Aghast, it took him a moment to compose himself before he could answer her. “I would never dare such a liberty, my lady,” he at last mumbled. “Will there be anything else?”

She tried not to laugh while she listened to him speaking so politely to her. “Oh, I think Brianna and I will be secure enough, now that you’ve returned us to the safety of the castle.”

“Then I will take my leave of you,” he replied.

“What’s your name?” Katherine inquired, halting his progress to leave their side. He seemed taken aback that she would worry about knowing the name of one of her guardsmen.

“’Tis Caldwell, my lady, and I am ever at your service.”

“Thank you so much, Sir Caldwell, for everything you do for us here at Warkworth. I know what a great sacrifice it is to serve another at the cost of your own life. I am in your debt for guarding us today and every day,” Katherine murmured sincerely.

Katherine saw he was again surprised at her words, since she could clearly see the shocked expression written all over his face. It was evident he had never been thanked for doing his duty.

“The honor is mine, my lady.” With another quick bow, Caldwell left them to enjoy the remainder of their day.

Brianna’s muffled laugh caused Katherine to turn her questioning gaze on her friend.

“What’s so funny?” Katherine asked.

“Did you see his face?” Brianna giggled again. “He really was out of his element, but you did your mother proud by thanking him for his service. You could really tell he wasn’t used to receiving a compliment for just doing his job.”

“No matter the time, he’s still our military and a soldier of war. I think these knights deserve our thanks when you think about the hand to hand combat they have to train for just to keep us safe.” Katherine gave a shudder. “I suppose war is war, and there’s always a price to pay for the cost of someone’s freedom.”

“Let’s not think about war. It’s too depressing. Did you ever ask Riorden about the painting you found of him at Bamburgh,” Brie asked, conveniently changing the subject.”

“I asked him about it and if it was somewhere here at Warkworth. He seemed confused given the description I gave him and told me he knew of no such portrait,” Katherine answered.

“Oh what a shame. It was such an awesome picture of him,” Brie replied with a heavenly sigh.

“Yes it was, wasn’t it? Maybe his father had it done after their falling out, and it’s in hiding somewhere,” Katherine guessed. “We’ll just have to look for it once we’re allowed back into the keep. I love that picture, and we just have to find it.”

“Considering its size, it can’t be that hard to locate,” Brie surmised.

They both became lost in thought again and enjoyed the warmth of the late autumn sun. It was the sound of the keep door creaking open that drew their attention, causing Katherine to inwardly curse. Was it just her, or did Brianna flinch, as well.

“Ugh! Her Majesty is about to grace us with her almighty presence,” Brianna declared, giving voice to Katherine’s own troubled thoughts as far as Marguerite was concerned.

Katherine’s eyes squinted in the bright sunlight as she watched the woman who once held Riorden’s heart. With her head held high, she practically floated across the grounds with a confident air of one who was used to drawing the attention of every single man in sight from her looks alone. Marguerite was no different than those other high maintenance women from Bamburgh who had looked down their aristocratic noses, making Katherine feel inferior. She began to doubt she would ever fit in here.

Katherine gave a weary sigh. She had only just recently met the woman, and already she hated her, knowing from their first glance that the feeling was mutual. Katherine knew Marguerite’s type. She’d seen it a hundred times before. Marguerite would stop at nothing until she claimed Riorden again as her own. It made no difference that the man was already married.

As if to confirm her worst fears, Marguerite made her way to Riorden, who was in a conversation with John the mason. Before she interrupted them, their heads had been bent over a table while discussing the plans that Katherine knew were for renovations on stabilizing the castle walls. Although she couldn’t hear whatever it was she was demanding, Riorden was obviously not buying into Marguerite’s request. She stomped her foot, but Riorden only went back to work, ignoring any further protests.

Katherine had a brief moment of relief that Marguerite’s pleas fell on deaf ears until the woman’s eyes leveled on her from across the yard. Another cold chill went through her, and she watched in dismay as Marguerite began to make her way to the inner bailey.

“Good Lord, here she comes,” Katherine stated while a feeling of doom hung over her like a terrible thunderstorm about to ravage the ground around them.

“Well...it
was
a pleasant day,” Brianna murmured.

“I just know it’s going to take everything in me not to want to pull her hair out by the roots!”

“She’ll be gone soon, sis,” Brianna replied. “Buck up now. Don’t let her get under your skin.”

Katherine leaned back on her elbow and portrayed a completely relaxed demeanor when Marguerite came to stand in front of them. She watched the woman’s eyes narrow to mere slits while she maintained her lounging position. Katherine supposed it was the ultimate insult that she didn’t stand to meet her rival on even ground.

“Did you need something, Marguerite?” Katherine asked with a slight smile on her face. She took one of the flowers and brought it up to her nose, inhaling the delicate fragrance, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Outwardly, she hoped she appeared calm, but inside, her heart was rapidly beating in her chest, like a loud, big brass band. Raising her chin a notch, she would not give Marguerite the satisfaction of knowing how much she feared her past relationship with her husband.

“Do you have no sense about you woman that you would not rise when one of your betters stands afore you,” Marguerite sneered.

A strange garbled sound escaped Brianna, making it evident she was insulted by the remark. “Oh, you did
not
just speak to her like that!”

Brianna made to rise, but Katherine put a steady hand on her friend’s arm to restrain any further outbreak. “Brie, I’ve got this.”

They exchanged a silent look until Brianna resumed her relaxed position. Katherine returned her attention to the older woman, standing there with her fists clenched at her sides. She looked her up and down but stayed where she was. Marguerite’s face began to turn purple with rage.

“You will stand in my presence!” Marguerite shouted, pointing her finger in Katherine’s direction. “I am the Countess of Warkworth, and I demand your respect.”

“As am I...or have you forgotten something of such significance,” Katherine replied sarcastically, before she continued. “Have you never heard the saying that respect is earned, Marguerite? So far in our very short association, you haven’t bothered to show me much, so I really don’t feel the need or desire to extend the courtesy.”

“How dare you talk to me as if you are above me? Just you wait. You shall be leaving these grounds and going back to wherever you came from. You might as well begin your packing. You are not wanted here.”

“I beg to differ with you, Marguerite,” Katherine said and finally rose to stand toe to toe with the woman. “You had better get used to the idea that
I
am now the mistress of Warkworth, and I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere.”

“How dare you speak to me that way, you insignificant piece of fodder?”

“If you think to get a rise out of me by calling me names, you’re wasting your time. I have better things to do than listen to someone with no class,” Katherine said and sat back down, turning her attention back to Brianna. “Now, what were we talking about, Brie, before we were so rudely interrupted?”

“Just wait ’til I tell Riorden how you are treating me!” Marguerite huffed.

Katherine couldn’t hide the smirk that suddenly plastered itself onto her face. “Well, turn around, dearie, because here’s your chance.”

R
iorden’s stride
could only be described as determined as he quickly made his way across the baily to reach Katherine’s side. He could not believe the audacity that Marguerite would dare confront his wife at her own castle.
Merde
! He could not get rid of his father’s widow soon enough. She was trouble in the making, and the sooner she left the keep, the better everyone would be.

Whatever words Katherine had just said to Marguerite caused the woman to scream out in outrage. As he came up behind Marguerite, he reached out, grabbing the arm she had raised to slap his wife. He yanked hard until she spun around and all but threw herself into his arms then began sobbing...again. Was there no end to this woman’s ploys?

“Enough, Marguerite,” he snarled, pulling the suddenly distraught woman away from him.

“Oh, Riorden, thank goodness you are here!” she cried out. “You have no idea how insulting your wife is, and how she has treated me. Me! Your father’s widow. How much more agony am I supposed to endure?”

Taking Katherine’s hand, he pulled her up from the ground and brought it lovingly up to his lips. Smiling into her eyes, he wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close. He nodded briefly towards Brianna then he turned his steady gaze back to Marguerite.

“In case I did not make myself clear, or you misunderstood my words, this is my wife, Marguerite, and her lady friend,” he said through clenched teeth. “If you so much as ever raise a hand to either of them, I will dispatch you to Dunhaven Manor whether ’tis ready for your arrival or not. Do you have any doubt of my words?”

“But Riorden, she─”

“I have had enough of your tantrums this day and care not to suffer your presence any longer than necessary. I am sure you can find something to occupy your time inside the keep.”

He dared her to voice her objections with a raised brow, but, for once, the woman clamped her lips shut tight. Her skirts swirled in her haste to leave them, and Riorden finally felt as though he could draw a breath of fresh air.

“Goodness, how does anyone stand that obnoxious woman?” Brianna complained with a toss of her head. “I mean really, has she always acted in such a vile manner and been so callus?”

Riorden took a lock of Katherine’s hair that had fallen across her brow and pushed it behind her ear. Kissing her cheek, he looked behind him to ensure Marguerite did indeed return to the keep. “I personally cannot account for her behavior, ladies. I am most distressed to subject you both to her outbursts. I can only pray that your interaction with her will be at a minimum ’til she departs.”

“We’ll be fine, Riorden. Don’t worry about us,” Katherine replied softly.

He observed her for a few moments, and he could tell she was forcing a smile for his benefit. She was troubled. Of that he had no doubt, and he could hardly blame her. ’Twas not the best situation in which he would have wanted to introduce his wife to her new home, but they would need to make the best of it.

He took both her checks in the palms of his hand. Leaning down, he kissed her gently, not caring if anyone saw their display of affection. “I love you, Katherine,” he whispered, “just in case you forgot.”

This time her smile lit her eyes. “Sweetheart, how could I ever forget something as wonderful as that?” she said laughingly. “I love you, too.”

Giving them a bow, he left them to return to his duties although his gaze returned to her numerous times as he watched her from afar. She was a beautiful distraction, and he was thankful she belonged to him.