Her Lord and Protector (formerly titled On Silent Wings) (17 page)

“I see,” the
baron replied. He droned on with his witty reflections, closing his eyes at
times as if he were standing in Whitehall all over again.

Katherine
slanted her eyes toward Alex, and then she straightened in her chair and held
her head erect. She wore a quite pleasant and utterly false expression. Alex
noted the slow
tapping of her thumb on her folded hands.

What was she
thinking right now?
Could
she be worried about the marriage arrangement? Surely she’d know that he
wouldn’t pass her off to the first man who would have her, although it seemed
he’d done just that.

Or, her mood
could stem from her lingering disgust over his actions on the battlement, which
she had spurned with disdain. Why had she suddenly broken away from him?

And why, just a
few minutes ago, had she gone limp in his arms, her hands in his hair roving
with sensuous languor, her mouth opening to his? She had returned his kiss with
such enthusiasm. For a moment, he’d known of her passion for him. Or was it
simple loneliness?

Regardless of
the reason for her response, he knew it was temporary. His slip of self-control
would not happen again.

The servants
announced the meal, and as Agnes was still in attendance, Elizabeth invited her
to dine. Alex thought Agnes’ display of hesitation to be almost believable.

During the meal,
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in fascination as Wiltshire continued his colorful
story of Court life. For the first time since Alex could remember, her shyness
vanished. She laughed with recklessness and seemed to come alive under the
baron’s twinkling eyes.

She never
behaved this way with Edward. Alex had the feeling that Robert’s son, so cautious
and slow in his courtship, would be wise to liven his pace if he wanted to keep
her attentions.

Agnes also seemed
enthralled, for once apparently forgetting herself and reacting with delight at
the baron’s lively anecdotes.

Only Katherine
seemed unmoved. She had surely attended regular parties at the palace and
witnessed the courtiers’ tendency for frivolous wantonness. Perhaps she had
engaged in affairs herself, but from her uncultivated response atop the
battlement, Alex had the feeling that her purity was intact.

The thought of
another man possessing her body made something deep in his gut twist into a
jealous knot.

“And then that
obnoxious Duke of Lauderdale,” Wiltshire was saying with a laugh, “invited
himself to a small dining party given for King Charles. To get rid of him,
Charles, after conferring secretly with his host, ordered a double syllabub as
refreshment, and offered one to the duke. The duke drank it down, praising that
no person had such good taste in drink as His Majesty. Well, in due time, the
king cried out, ‘My lord, Lauderdale is sick!’ and they carried him out. And
the king was no longer troubled with the duke inviting himself to private parties.”
With a twinkle in his eyes, the baron grinned at each of them in turn.

“What?”
Elizabeth asked with a wide smile. “What was in the drink?”

“Syllabub, of
course,” Lord Wiltshire replied, “with an ample quantity of horse urine.”

Elizabeth and
Agnes giggled freely into their hands, and Alex, chuckling in spite of himself
at the story, glanced over at Katherine. Normally ramrod straight when she sat,
she was now casually resting against the back of the chair and regarding him
with a thoughtful expression. As she gazed at him, a slow smile lit her features.
A rusted joy surged through Alex.

Oh, if he could
only keep her here with him to harness that joy. If only he could love her, protect
her, and hope that she wouldn’t learn to hate him.

As Mary had.

“Katherine, I am
so happy for you,” Elizabeth said as they sat in the parlor after the meal.
“Lord Wiltshire seems like a good man.”

Indeed he did.
But she didn’t want him.

“Oh, I do agree.
Don’t you, Katherine?” Agnes prodded.

Katherine sighed
her agreement. What else could she do? The prison doors were fast closing on
her

“
My goodness, but
doesn’t Alexander make him seem a withered old goat?”
Agnes asked with
a giggle. Then, she held up her nails to examine them. “I suppose Alexander can
court me now that his year of mourning is over.”

“How nice,
Agnes,” Elizabeth said with surprise in her voice. “I wasn’t aware that he
wished to. Alex often hides his feelings.”

Katherine
feigned disinterest, but she grew heated by the memory of being held in his
arms. He hadn’t hid his feelings on the battlement, nor in the corridor outside
his study. His mouth had been warm and tender and demanding, his hands gentle
yet ardent.

Would he kiss
Agnes like that? Would he hold her and make her feel that she was the only
woman on earth? A sudden, hot flash of jealousy made Katherine close her eyes
to wipe out the image.

“Katherine? Are
you ill?” Elizabeth asked.

“Your face is
flushed,” added Agnes.

Gads! It was no
use. She couldn’t conceal her emotions. And Agnes had read her mind, as was
apparent by the narrow-eyed look the woman was bestowing upon her.

Katherine forced
herself to relax, and returned Agnes’ scowl with a fierce smile, as wicked as
any glare.

“You must be
swooning over your baron,” Agnes said. “I am truly sorry you are leaving. I
hardly got the chance to know you. Someday, I hope we shall be friends. When I
am Lady Drayton and you are Lady Wiltshire, we can hold lovely parties and
visit one another. Alexander can take me to London whenever I wish, and perhaps
I will dance with King Charles.” She held her fan over her mouth. Her voice
lowered. “Perhaps, if the king wishes it, I will become his mistress. I have
heard that he has a large—”

Appalled, Katherine
shot up a hand to stop her.

Elizabeth stood,
pink and flustered. “Katherine, you are quite flushed. I will get a damp towel
for your face.” She hobbled out quickly as if grabbing at any excuse to be away
from Agnes.

Despite
Katherine’s sparring with Agnes, she had a rare opportunity to question her
about Lord Drayton’s past. She was almost certain now that he was kind and
gentle behind the walls of his brusque exterior, but Millie had said that Mary
and Agnes had been friends. Agnes would know the details of Mary’s death, and
Katherine’s heart would be settled.

She went to the
writing table and wrote her question.

“Oh, what is
it?” Agnes asked crossly. She took the note. A strange look crossed her face as
she read the words. “Whatever makes you curious about how his wife died? She
fell from her window, ’tis all.” Agnes raised and lowered her bare shoulder and
then fanned herself with rapid strokes.

Relief filled
Katherine like a soothing tonic, and she relaxed in her chair. She would refuse
Lord Wiltshire’s offer of marriage, if he made one. There was time to get to
know Alex, to cut through the armor surrounding his heart.

A glance at
Agnes, however, gave her pause. A measuring glint had lit the woman’s eyes.
“Just what do you know? Did Alexander say anything? Elizabeth?”

Katherine shook
her head.

The paper
disappeared into a pocket of Agnes’ dress. “Well, I do not know what you’ve
heard, so I will tell you what you need to know.” She bent forward and
Katherine became locked into her emerald green eyes. “You know that he was
married to a madwoman. She was my best friend. I tried to help her, truly I
did. She—”

“Here we are.”
Elizabeth limped in with a towel in her hand. “There was still a water pitcher
in the dining room.”

Katherine
dismissed Agnes’ words, only giving heed to the fact that the woman had tried
to help Lady Drayton in her condition. Perhaps Agnes possessed a smidgeon of
compassion.

She didn’t need
the towel now, but rose and took it from Elizabeth with a nod of thanks.
Smiling, she fetched a candle from a table near the door and headed toward
Alex’s study to tell the baron he could go home.

She reached the
study door and knocked, but there was no answer. Voices sounded, though, from
the withdrawing room off the study, and she crept closer.

“...take care of
her.”

“Why would I
not? She is a lovely woman. Truly, I do not understand your sudden reluctance.
Are you wanting her for yourself, Drayton?”

There was no
answer from Lord Drayton. Katherine’s hand was suddenly leaden, and she dropped
it to her side. Would he not champion her?

“I suppose your
silence means no. I will take her off your hands tomorrow, then.”

The scrape of a
chair made Katherine falter backwards until her shoulders touched the opposite
wall. Quickly she turned and fled.

The meeting had
ended and the details worked out. Now, she needed the cool dampness of the
towel on her brow.

Soon she would
be far from this dark, anguished castle.

And far from the
man who made it so.

****

“Wait,
Wiltshire,” Alex said. “Sit back down.”

“What now? I
have told you that I will be kind to her, that she will want for nothing.
You’ve informed me of her fear of small spaces. What else do you want? Gadzoks,
Drayton, you’d think the woman was your own daughter!” Wiltshire plunked his
body back onto the plush, high-backed wing chair that flanked the round table.

What did he
want? Alex knew Katherine dearly wanted to leave. What woman wouldn’t who had
been kissed and held and then told that it all meant nothing?

But it meant a
great deal to him, especially when, on the battlement, he realized that he no
longer held her from worry over her near demise, but for another reason
altogether. When a year’s worth of stout refusal to let go of his emotions had
culminated in a blazing kiss.

But had she not
pushed him away in disgust, he might have taken her right there on the windswept
stone.

The marriage
contract lay on the table between them, awaiting his signature. For some
reason, he could not make his hand pick up the quill. He groped for words to
delay the moment.

Wiltshire
glowered. “Well? Did you bring me from Kensington just to give me excuses?”

“A doctor,” Alex
declared suddenly. “Yes. I have a doctor coming to look at her throat. He will
be here within a fortnight.”

Wiltshire
shrugged. “Fine. Send him on over to my home to look at her. But I rather enjoy
her silence.”

Alex wanted to
wrap his hands around the man’s plump throat. “I cannot.”

Wiltshire raised
thick graying brows. “Because?”

“He is coming in
secrecy. No one can know.”

Wiltshire rolled
his eyes and puckered his lips in impatience. “What are you talking about?”

Alex lifted his
tankard of ale, grasping at thoughts while he gulped the cool, pungent liquid.
Then, he set the mug down. “He is a Jew.”

A stunned
silence ensued, marked only by the crackling of oak logs in the fireplace. At
length, Wiltshire cried out, “Are you daft? Those people are the devil’s
spawn!”

“They are
healthy. They rarely have the diseases we have. And I have heard that their
doctors are among the most learned in the world.”

“They are not
part of us, Drayton,” Wiltshire sputtered, his face reddening. He pounded the
chair’s carved arm with his fist. “They’ve been sneaking into England for
years. I do not care if the king protects them. By God, I will not let one defile
my wife with his filthy hands!”

Alex glanced at
the blank signature line on the contract. “She is not your wife, Wiltshire. You
have no hold on her.”

“Did you not
tell me that the king’s own physician examined her throat and proclaimed that
she would never speak again? Why are you asking an inferior doctor to look at
her?”

For Alex to
admit his belief that Jewish doctors might be more knowledgeable that those of
the king would be treasonous. “I shall search out all cures before giving up on
her voice.”

“Bah! Piss on
her voice!” Wiltshire’s face bulged with rage. “I will enjoy her body and teach
her to pleasure me. That is
all
that matters.”

Alex shot to his
feet, as did Wiltshire, who thrust out his wobbling chins and stared up at him.
He could snap the baron’s neck in a single twist, or shake him like a rag doll.

Instead, with
deliberate calm, Alex picked up the contract and held it in front of Wiltshire’s
indignant face.

“No,” he said.
“That is not all that matters. And I have changed my mind.” He flung the contract
into the fire. “Lady Katherine shall not become your wife.”

No light filled
the room when Katherine ran her hands down her naked body. Powerful, sizzling
desire made her gasp and tremble.

She waited for
him, her nipples hard and tingling, her inner thighs hot and slick with wetness.
She touched herself and writhed in pleasure.