Her Lord and Protector (formerly titled On Silent Wings) (23 page)

He desperately
needed her to love him. Perhaps then he could let go of the doubt that plagued
him.

The contraption
had disappeared an impossible distance into Katherine’s mouth. How far would
the doctor insert it?

Finally, the
doctor paused. He peered into the lantern.

Time froze. Alex
didn’t breathe. His fingers went still on Katherine’s damp palm.

The doctor’s
eyes squinted. “Ah.”

Katherine’s
fingers curled over Alex’s and clamped down.

“Ah. Yes. I see
now.” The doctor slowly raised his head, his expression placid. “I will remove
the tube now, Lady Drayton. You have remained most admirably calm.”

The tube came
out much faster than it had gone in. Katherine gasped, swallowed, and then
looked at the doctor with wide, moist eyes.

Millie, standing
a few feet away, wrung her hands.

“Well?” Alex
demanded, feeling ridiculously close to tears.

The doctor
carefully set the lantern on the writing table and then placed an iron cup over
the candle to snuff it out. Somberly, he faced Katherine.

“You shall speak
again, my lady.”

Alex bowed
before the king, who sat on a lush red velvet chair on a dais in an elaborate
room with white columns and hundreds of candles. The queen was not with him;
mayhap she was in her chamber suffering from foul humors.

Charles was
surrounded by courtiers dressed in so many dazzling colors and sparkling
jewelry that Alex thought he might go blind with the unaccustomed brilliance.

Uncharacteristically
self-conscious, Alex reconsidered his plain brown jacket, breeches, and boots.
Perhaps he should have worn his fashionable wedding attire, which had looked
too much like a dress but was more acceptable here.

The king’s
court, with its colorfully dressed, painted nobles who had ulterior motives for
everything they did, wasn’t his life. He couldn’t wait to get back home with
Katherine.

Katherine. Oh,
how his wife’s beautiful face had shown with happiness at the doctor’s declaration
that she would speak! For once, Alex didn’t crush the joy that welled within
him.

“Lord Drayton!”
Charles cried merrily. “How do you do!”

“Majesty,” Alex
replied with a smile as he straightened.

“What brings you
to London?” The king’s smile was wide and friendly under his thin dark
moustache, yet his eyes held a measured glint.

“I have business
in town, Majesty,” Alex answered, hoping the king would be satisfied with that.
“I wished to pay my respects to you while I am here.”

“Ah. Do you plan
to stay long? We would enjoy your company this evening.” He glanced at a few of
the women who milled about. “The ladies do love an unfamiliar face.”

Several of them
were already scrutinizing Alex, boldly raking their gazes over his body. “I
regret that I will leave when my dealings are concluded,” he said, nodding his
apologies.

“Unfortunate.
And not even Rochester here to flirt with them.”

Alex’s hands
stiffened, yet he kept his expression bland. “Is Lord Rochester away?”

The king swung
his head to the left as if to spit in contempt, but apparently thought better
of it and returned his gaze to Alex. “Business? Ha! He left here three days
past to go after Mrs. Mallet. He had his footmen forcibly take her from her
grandfather, Lord Haly, at Charing Cross. Rochester put her into a coach with
six horses and we haven’t seen the two of them since. It’s the Tower for him
when we catch him.”

“And you wish to
reclaim Mrs. Mallet?” Alex asked.

“We most
certainly do. We had an...arrangement.”

Several of the
courtiers glanced around, most likely for Lady Castlemaine, whose jealousy
seemed at times to control England. Alex had always avoided the stunning yet
forceful woman.

“Enough talk of
the earl.” Charles’ mouthed widened, genial yet reserved. “Tell me, how is
Thomas Seymour’s daughter faring?”

“She still
cannot speak.” It was the truth, at least. “I inquired of eligible men for marriage,
and she met a possible suitor.”

Charles’ brows
rose. “When shall she marry?”

Candor would
serve best with his monarch. “I married her, Majesty. ’Tis an honor to have her
as my wife.” Pride laced his voice.

“An honor?” A
strong, feminine voice carried through the room, and the crowd swept aside. “An
honor
?”

Wishing he could
say a quick farewell and escape, Alex smiled as Barbara Villiers Palmer,
Countess of Castlemaine, sauntered toward him with a confident pout on her red
lips.

Light on her
feet despite having given birth to five children—the youngest only two years
old—she was the most sensuous woman Alex had ever seen. Her deep brown eyes
sparkled with intelligence and her shapely breasts bulged from the low bodice
of her dress.

Alex utterly
disliked the king’s mistress. Holding his tight smile with effort, he bowed to
her. “’Tis good to see you, my Lady Castlemaine.”

Raising painted
brows, she raked her gaze over him, giving a weighted pause at his thighs.
“Your clothing leaves little to the imagination, my lord.”

The tittering
from the other courtiers caused further embarrassment for Alex. He stood still,
and waited.

Lady Castlemaine
turned toward the king with a smile. “Lord Drayton believes to honor himself by
marrying a traitor’s daughter.”

“So he said.”
Charles scrutinized Alex, his face unreadable.

Slanting her
eyes back toward Alex, Lady Castlemaine’s pretty lips turn downward in a scowl.
“You surprise me, Lord Drayton. After what her father did, I would think that
you’d grind her until you tired of her, and then bring her back to London and
leave her on the street to beg and whore until she starved to death.”

Alex’s jaw
clenched. If the countess were a man, he would run her through with his sword.
“Majesty, Katherine knows nothing of her father’s deeds. No one told her why
she was sent to me. She thinks only that you were kind enough to provide for
her.”

“You are aware
that her father wanted her to spy for him?” Charles asked.

“Yes,” Alex
said, “but I do not believe she knew it.”

Charles regarded
him for a moment, then rose to his feet. Every man and woman present turned to
him and bowed or curtsied.

“Walk with me,”
he ordered. Leaving Lady Castlemaine behind, he led Alex through the vast room,
between two massive marble columns, and outside to a sumptuous walled garden.

They were alone
save for two guards who stood at alert attention a few yards away near a bronze
sundial. In the warmth of the sun, Alex faced King Charles—his equal in
stature.

“I did hate to
make the decision to give her over to you. She is a lovely young woman.” His
voice hardened. “But we demand loyalty, Drayton. Someone has to pay for
Seymour’s crimes, and she is the only one left of her family. Her two brothers
and mother died of the Plague. When we found his trunk full of the proof of his
treason, we decided to allow
you
the satisfaction of exacting payment.”

“Yes, Majesty, I
understand that,” Alex said, and his throat tightened with distress. The wrong
words could jeopardize Katherine’s safety. “But I have no doubt of her
innocence. She knows nothing. Please, do not command me to hurt her.”

Charles’ dark
eyes shone with a surprisingly amused glint. “I would never command that a woman
be hurt. ’Twas not my intention that you punish her at all, Drayton. Of course,
my Lady Castlemaine wondered why I went along so easily with her plans.”

Relief welled
within Alex, but the discussion wasn’t finished. “Yet she is to pay, somehow,
for her father’s crimes.”

“Therein lies my
dilemma. I cannot simply forget it happened.”

Alex, sensing a
solution, didn’t flinch from his sovereign’s gaze. “Perhaps knowing the
whereabouts of Mrs. Mallet would help to settle the score.”

Charles’
expression remained unchanged. Yet Alex, knowing Ellis Potts had run off with a
woman the king wanted in his bed, noted a slight forward movement his head and
an increased intensity in his stance. Between the king’s legs hung England’s masculine
pride.

“That may help,”
Charles quipped. He turned and commenced a leisurely, long-legged stroll
through the pebbled garden path. “And what of our exquisite Katherine? Shall I
trust you to rectify Lord Seymour’s treachery?

Alex, keeping
stride with ease, said, “You shall, Majesty. Katherine’s misery will be punishment
enough for her when she learns the truth. She believes her father was a staunch
Royalist.”

“And you?”
Charles asked, sliding his long fingers along a tree’s tender white blossom.
“What of your own recompense?”

“If you are
speaking of my parents’ murder,” Alex replied with a shrug, “’tis long past.”

“Is it now?”
Charles halted once more and faced Alex, his gaze both kind and forceful.
“Drayton, there is a specific reason we sent the woman to you. A personal reason.”

His next words
turned Alex’s blood to ice.

****

“Herbs, heat,
lozenges.” Millie bustled about the bedroom of the inn with no apparent
purpose, almost chanting the words as Katherine sat cross-legged on her bed
sipping from a cup of foul-tasting broth heavy with chili powder and salt.

She worked to
swallow the vile concoction as she fingered the cloth pouch beside her
containing lozenges made up of angelica root, myrrh, and cinnamon.

The doctor had
wasted no time gathering his prescribed herbs and spices and giving specific
instructions. Tomorrow Katherine and Alex would leave London, and in two days
return to Drayton Castle as husband and wife.

Wouldn’t
Elizabeth be surprised! And Agnes would have quite a shock. Katherine couldn’t
help the glee coursing through her.

“Newly laid
eggs. Cabbage broth with fat an’ honey an’ the finest wheat. An’ garlic. Garlic
with everything.” Millie stopped and turned to Katherine. “But ye must eat
lightly, m’lady. And nothing cold. Only warm white maguey wine for ye.”

The doctor had
written other instructions, and Katherine lifted the paper to read the long
list. Juice of cinquefoil. Flowers of the Mallow plant boiled in oil, mixed
with honey and alum, to be gargled daily. Sage and Rosemary were also listed,
as was mustard seed—which, the doctor had warned her in grave tones, could stir
up bodily lust. He had given her a small bag of each and advised planting more
as soon as they returned home.

Home. Her home.
Drayton Castle would see some changes, the first being the restoration of the
dilapidated gardens. Then, the bedchamber she’d been using would be redecorated
for guests.

Perhaps she
could convince Alex to open the drapes.

Millie
approached and checked Katherine’s right arm where the doctor had bled her with
leeches. “Already healing,” she declared, replacing the bandage.

Katherine was
surprised to feel a deep calm that, she knew, wasn’t a result of the contents
of her drink. She forced a swallow of her broth while Millie turned and
muttered her way around the room once more.

Alex. He’d
astounded her with tears in his eyes at the doctor’s announcement. More than relief,
however, had passed between them, and more than their mutual bodily lust that
needed no help from mustard seed. As he held her hand in his, she’d found a newfound
trust, a warm, deep stirring within her that spoke of security and companionship.
And love.

Yes, by the
heavens, could it be? She loved him. He didn’t feel the same—he’d made that
clear although he certainly loved her with his body—she would speak, for him,
because of him.

He wanted her
voice back as much as she. And her first words after seven months of silence?
I
love you, Alex
.

If only he could
say them, too.

Where was he?

The moon’s pale
light washed the rough planks of the inn floor and guided Katherine as she
paced about on restless feet. He’d not returned since paying his respects to
the king.

Would he have
remained at Whitehall Palace to join the nightly frolics? It didn’t seem like
him—although if he were looking for entertainment, the palace provided an
abundance of activity.

No. A man like
Alex wouldn’t seek to dance and play Court games. Would he? Katherine paused at
the window, pensively nibbling at her tender lower lip.

She really
didn’t know him at all.

But after
kissing her senseless this afternoon before leaving, he’d promised her that he
would return before dark. From the loving warmth in his eyes, she knew he spoke
the truth.

Was he safe?
Katherine resumed her walking, envisioning him lost in London and unaware of
the dangers of the city. She pressed a hand to her trembling mouth. Perhaps
he’d been attacked and even now lay bleeding in a stinking gutter!