Her Lord and Protector (formerly titled On Silent Wings) (12 page)

Alex felt his
jaw grow slack.

Yes. Her eyes
would be half closed in desire, her lips parted in her charming smile. Her
arms, folded leisurely above her head, would lift and reach out for him.

The image of the
rest of her supple curves fogged his mind, and he swallowed twice and rubbed
damp hands on his hips.

What was he
looking for?

“Alex?”

“The marriage
contract.” Alex gave up on the table and turned back to his desk. He hadn’t
checked the drawers. “’Tisn’t as if she possesses a complicated dowry,” he muttered,
yanking open the first one. “The old toad probably just cannot remember the details.”

Sam moved each
document methodically from one side of the table to the other. “What were you
thinking just now?”

“Nothing.” Only
her smile, her ability to say so much with her eyes and hands. Her loveliness
and grace. Even that endearing, defiant way she raised her chin. “He will be
fortunate to have her,” he murmured.

“As would you,
lad.”

Alex scoffed.
“Not me.”

“What’s this?”
Sam lifted a folded piece of paper to his nose. “Smells like a woman.”

“Let me see it.”
Alex took the paper, unfolded it, and read it silently. A sinking sensation weighted
his heart. “’Tis from Katherine,” he said, keeping his voice casual. This was
the reason she had been in his study. “She wishes for another guardian.”

“Oh. Does she
say why?”

“She says my
treatment of her is intolerable. It seems I have frightened her with punishment
and banned her to her bedchamber to eat.”

“Well, that you
have,” Sam said with a frown. “You say you want to keep her safe, and then you
threaten to whip her. No wonder she is frightened of you.”

Alex shrugged.
“I never meant anything by it. And you saw those two merchants. They were
trying to stare through her gown.”

“Then you need
to tell her you meant nothing. What else did she write?”

Alex glanced
over the last words and gave a derisive snort. “She wants to choose her own
husband. Now
that
will not happen. She will want to wait until she falls
in love with one of them, and I will never be rid of her.”

“Since you will
be honoring her request for a new guardian, you will not have to worry about
being rid of her,” Sam said.

Alex folded the
note with clenched jaw. Sam always had a way of bringing the point home. On the
night Roundheads attacked and took the castle, Sam had hidden him deep among
the maze of passageways under the fortress. Alex had cried out for his parents
and tried to run back outside to where their bodies lay.
They
’
re
dead, lad
, Sam had whispered fiercely, his hand clamped over Alex’s mouth.
Dead.
Now be quiet, or you
’
ll be dead, too.

Feeling a bit
sobered by Sam’s statement, Alex opened the third drawer, and there it was. The
contract faced him with its written proof of his declaration to Katherine on
the day she’d arrived.

He sat back,
pushing aside the strange reluctance that crept over him. “I found it.”

“You are sure of
your intentions?”

Alex snatched up
the contract and stood. “I said I’d find her a husband, and I have. No more to
be said.” He trudged out, ignoring Sam’s skepticism.

Katherine held
her hand to her chest in an attempt to calm her racing heart. Lord Drayton had
seen her. Any second now, he’d pound on her door. But the minutes ticked by and
he didn’t appear.

She parted the
curtains a little and opened the window, relishing the warm breeze wafting into
her bedchamber.

His kindness
toward the boy and his mother entranced her. No one, not even her own father,
would have treated his workers with such generosity. How could this
compassionate man have assisted his deranged wife out the window to her death?

“Greetings,
m’lady!”

The source of
the high, thin voice belonged to the dark-eyed boy who’d cried and trembled in
Lord Drayton’s study. Now he looked up at Katherine with a wide grin on his
dirty face. He stood with his thin right arm stretched taut, his small hands
clutching the reins of a calm but mighty gray stallion.

Charmed,
Katherine smiled and waved to the child. With a bath and a haircut, he could be
quite a handsome boy.

Then, Lord
Drayton strode into her line of vision. He pivoted, seemingly immobilized, and
stared up at her with eyes transformed to sapphires in the slanting late afternoon
sun.

The look of
horror on his face made her own eyes widen.

“Get away from
the window, Katherine!”

She cocked her head
and turned up her palms at the strange request.

He spoke with
controlled calm, yet it seemed his entire body, tense and hard, lambasted her.
“Now.”

Shaken, she drew
back and watched him visibly relax. But of course he would be nervous seeing
her in the window from where his wife had fallen—assuming he’d had no hand in
the matter. Otherwise, it was guilt that haunted him.

She peeked back
out and saw him tuck a folded document into his front breast pocket. Her
letter, perhaps? Yes, he’d found it, and in his impatience to get her out of
his house, was rushing off to make the necessary arrangements with a new guardian.

Katherine
clutched the damask drapes. She hadn’t thought he would act so promptly on her
request.

Truly, she had
assumed he wouldn’t act on it at all.

Long after dark,
the drum of hooves reached Katherine’s ears. Heart in her throat, she leaped
out of bed to peek from her window. Lord Drayton came into view and then rode
on around the corner of the castle. Would she be gone by morning?

He said nothing
to her at breakfast—didn’t even look at her, in fact. Elizabeth, also quiet,
darted occasional anxious glances toward him.

At one point,
Katherine scribbled a short note on the paper near her and then slid it over to
him. He seemed blind to it as he sat hunched over his plate wolfing down bread
slathered with almond butter.

Lips pressed
together in irritation, Katherine picked up her pewter spoon and struck her
plate with it three times, in rapid succession.

It worked. She
had his attention. Lord Drayton froze in the act of gulping down a cup of
watered ale. His gaze slid to her, and his brows rose as if he considered her
no better than a speck of dust. “Yes?”

She let out a
long impatient breath and pointed to the note.

He ran his eyes
over her two questions. “Yes. I read your letter. No. I will not procure a new
guardian for you.”

He must have
seen her relief because something changed in his eyes, something subtle and
melting. In the next instant, derision replaced the softer look. “You do not
need a guardian,” he said. “You need a husband, and I have chosen one for you.”

Katherine waved
her hands in short, jerky movements. She took up her quill and wrote,
Who is
he?

“A baron,” Lord
Drayton answered. “Thomas Bliss, Lord Wiltshire. Your future will be secure,
and I can go on with my life.” He slid back his chair. “Who knows, mayhap you
will fall in love with his lordship.”

Katherine, her
temper flaring, glared at him, then scribbled two words on another sheet of paper.

“But Lord
Wiltshire is...” began Elizabeth, then stopped as bright color rose to her
cheeks.

Lord Drayton
apparently picked up on her meaning. “Yes, he is. But he desires—”

Katherine thrust
her paper toward him.
Pompous ass!

A slight flaring
of Lord Drayton’s nostrils gave evidence of his growing irritation. “To whom
are you referring, my lady? Lord Wiltshire or myself?”

She’d leave that
up to him.

He returned his
attention to Elizabeth. “Lord Wiltshire desires a wife, and has agreed to marry
Katherine—if he approves of her. I have assured him that although she cannot
speak, she is not dimwitted as first thought.”

Katherine
crossed her arms in exasperation at having no say in the matter. Instead of relief
at knowing what her future held, her stomach clenched with tension. The marriage
arrangement had taken place so quickly.

Gnawing at her
top lip, she glanced at Elizabeth, who sat studying the contents of her coffee
cup as if there were something fascinating floating in it. Lord Wiltshire
was...what? Thick? Pockmarked? Covered with warts? She grimaced, unsure she
even wanted to speculate.

And what good
was meeting him if it was just to see if he wanted her? What if she didn’t want
him
?

“Katherine.”

She met Lord
Drayton’ icy stare.

“When he
arrives, you
will
be courteous.” He jabbed a finger on her words. “And
if you show any defiance, or offend him as you have just insulted me....” He
drew in breath between tight lips.

Beneath his
glower, she detected a gleam of frustration in his eyes. He was clearly anxious
to be rid of her.

She swallowed
the sudden thickness in her throat and wondered at the ache in her chest. She
looked away from him and nodded.

“What are your
plans today, Elizabeth?” Lord Drayton asked briskly as he rose and walked
toward the door. “I can accompany you to town if you wish to go.”

Elizabeth said,
“I do need to go to market with the cook. And Alex, I—I would like to show
Katherine the keep later today. If that will be all right.”

Lord Drayton was
already through the door. “I will be leaving shortly,” he called back.

Katherine raised
her head. Enthusiasm trickled through her at the prospect of touring the ancient
keep.

Unexpectedly,
Lord Drayton reappeared in the doorway.

“You say you are
taking Katherine to the keep?”

“Well...yes, I
would like to.” Elizabeth replied.

“No. I do not
want you to do that.”

“As you wish,”
Elizabeth said without hesitation. Her chin trembled.

Katherine closed
her eyes and shook her head. Would he allow her no amusement? Or was he
implying that since she would be leaving, there was no use in exploring the
castle? She slanted a narrowed glance at him and picked up the quill, but his
next words, although gruff, stayed her hand.

“Elizabeth, you
know better. Those stones are loose and some of the stairs are treacherous. You
could easily fall.”

He studied
Katherine. The concern in his eyes startled her.

“I can imagine
something happening to Elizabeth, and your becoming lost and unable to voice
your distress.” He shook his head. “I cannot allow the two of you to go.”

“That is well,”
Elizabeth said. “I am sorry, Lady Katherine, to disappoint you.”

He was right,
Katherine thought, but then realized his true intentions. If something happened,
she’d be unable to present herself at her best for her prospective suitor, and
Lord Drayton would have to house her for a longer period. This was the main
reason he wanted her kept safe.

“I know you wish
to see the keep,” he continued, and the blue of his eyes seemed to darken as he
gazed at her. “When I return from town, I will take you through it myself. But you
will need to don a simpler gown. That one looks too cumbersome.” He hesitated
then, seeming to grope for words. “Although... ’tis becoming on you.”

Katherine took a
quick breath of astonishment, and then wondered at her foolishness in feeling
so gratified at his small compliment. He had implied only that he wanted her to
look pretty so the baron would approve of her. He himself cared not at all.

Later in the
morning, dressed simply in a loose yellow morning gown, Katherine waited for
Lord Drayton in the dim parlor. She sat bent forward over her needlework,
peering closely at the linen to get the stitches straight.

When her neck
began to ache and she couldn’t keep the threads from twisting, she flung the
linen to the floor, stood, and turned to the window. Lord Drayton wasn’t here.
What was the harm in opening the drapes for just a while so she would not go
blind or permanently bent? His rule was so very ridiculous!

She glanced
behind her at Millie sitting in a chair against the wall bowed over some mending,
and then stole to the windows and grasped the panels of the dark drapes. She
ignored the memory of fear in Elizabeth’s eyes, and flung the drapes open one
by one until light spilled through all three tall windows. Turning to survey
the room, she saw Millie standing with her mending clutched in her hands. She
spun to survey the room as Millie sprang up.

The maid
clutched her mending. “You mustn’t” she said, her voice high and tense. “Lord
Drayton, he....” She trailed off as she looked around the room.

Yes—the room!
Katherine’s heart soared with sudden gladness. In the radiant light, the parlor
gleamed.