Samantha James (25 page)

She broke off in amazement when he shook his head. "Not ugly!" he said with surprising forcefulness. "You are boo. . . booty. . ." His little brow furrowed as he struggled to find the right word.

"Peter," she said chuckling, "are you trying to say 'beautiful'?"

His eyes lit up. "Aye!" he exclaimed. "You are beautiful! Papa said so!" He grinned from ear to ear, threw his arms around her neck, and laid his cheek against hers.

Kathryn hugged him back, aware of a funny feeling constricting her chest. All at once her heart was thudding. Guy had said she was beautiful? Nay, she thought dazedly, surely not. Yet Peter was so adamant she was sorely tempted to believe him.

They never completed their journey, however. They hadn't gone far when Kathryn spotted the road through the spindly branches of a half-rotted tree. She had barely nosed Esmerelda in that direction when all at once the forest woodland became eerily quiet—insects ceased their hum; the trilling notes of a bird warbled to a close. Kathryn's only thought was that it was like the ominous calm before a storm.

It was then that she heard the thump of hooves, the raucous sound of voices and grating male laughter. Acting on instinct alone, she hurtled from Esmerelda's back and reached for Peter. Clutching him tight, she tugged on Esmerelda's reins and huddled behind a dense thicket, praying it was tall enough to shield the palfrey. Young as he was, Peter sensed that something was wrong. He stared at her with wide, frightened eyes.

"Peter." She spoke in low, hushed tones. "You must listen to me and do exactly as I say. I thought I heard someone but I don't know who, so I must check and see. I want you to stay here with Esmerelda. Go nowhere else and do not say a word, do you understand? Can you be a brave lad and do this for me?"

He nodded. Kathryn pressed a hasty kiss on his forehead and crept away. The men had stopped in a clearing a short distance away. She concealed herself in the waist-high underbrush and peered through the endless tangle of vines. Her heart drummed so loudly in her ears that she could scarcely hear, but she went very still and concentrated on calming herself. No less than six of them clustered in a circle, mean and evil-looking. Their tunics were torn and dirty, but for all their ragtag appearance, they were heavily armed.

'There's a village just up the road a ways," one of them said. His laugh was chilling. "I say we torch it and have done with it."

"Aye," chimed in another. "Let's roust the place now!"

"Are ye daft, man? You'd have the Earl of Sedgewick down on your head before you could lay your first maid!"

"So let him come! I'm a match for any man," boasted another. With an ugly smile he ran his fingers over the handle of his sword.

"I'd rather have the king himself on me arse!" proclaimed the dissenter. "I say we do as we planned— ride through to the north."

Kathryn inhaled sharply. She'd been right to be so leery. These men were raiders, unsavory wretches who preyed on the unwary and the helpless, those weaker than they and unable to defend themselves. An icy knot of dread coiled in her stomach. If they discovered her and Peter, they would likely as not slay them both!

Though she strained to hear, she could not make out their decision. She stayed in her hiding place until they mounted up and rode off—in the direction of Sedgewick! Then she crawled back to Peter and Esmerelda.

Thank heaven Peter had not moved! His lower lip had begun to quiver, though, so Kathryn pulled him close and whispered reassuringly as she placed him on Esmerelda. "Guess what, Peter? We are going to play a game, you and I, and Esmerelda, too! We are going to pretend that we are hiding from all the world, so you must be very, very quiet again and not say a word."

As soon as she was mounted behind him, she urged the palfrey into a gallop, heading in the opposite direction from the one the raiders had taken. Such a course would take them further from Sedgewick, but she dare not take any chances that she would run into them. She would double back to Sedgewick shortly.

She rode Esmerelda hard, deeper into the encroaching forest where the dense crisscross of tree boughs overhead masked the waning of the sun. It wasn't until she stopped Esmerelda for a rest that she realized the lateness of the hour. Shadows leaped and twisted everywhere. Towering trees crowded menacingly all around, seeming to close in on them. With every moment, the veil of gloom settled deeper over the earth. Soon it would be dark.

She stuffed a fist into her mouth to keep from crying out. She was certain she could find her way back to Sedgewick, but not in the dark! With a sinking feeling in her breast, she dismounted. They had no choice but to spend the night here and begin the journey back to Sedgewick in the morning.

She had taken but three steps forward when she spied a tiny hut a short distance away. Outside the hut, she tethered Esmerelda to a tree. Moments later, she and Peter were standing in the doorway. The hut was old and shabbily constructed, scarcely higher than her head and no more than eight feet across, but at least it offered shelter for the night.

Peter tugged at her skirt. "I want to go home," he whispered pitifully.

Looking down into his forlorn little face, Kathryn felt her heart melt. He had been so good, doing all that she asked with nary a peep. "I know you do, love," she said, kneeling before him. "But I'm afraid we must wait till morning and it's light. Esmerelda can't see very well in the dark, you know, and I'm afraid I can't either." She smiled ruefully and smoothed his hair. "Are you hungry?"

He nodded eagerly. Kathryn fished for the hunk of bread she'd thrust in her pocket just before they left. She watched him gnaw it hungrily, grateful that it satisfied him. When he'd finished, she propped her back against the wall and held out her arms. Within minutes he was asleep, his cheek resting against her shoulder, one small hand curled on her breast.

The night's chill crept into the hut; Peter shivered against her. She wrapped her skirt about him as best she could, wishing wistfully for the warmth of a fire. She stroked his back and stared into the darkness, uncomfortably aware of a sliver digging into her spine. She did not move for fear of waking Peter. Amazingly, her lashes soon drooped. Her mind spun adrift, snatches of reflection floating in and out of her consciousness... The raiders— at least some of them—had no wish to confront Guy. Perchance it was true that his was a name to be reckoned with. She prayed they would not loot and plunder the village, but ride on and leave it untouched.

Guy
.. . His name whispered through her mind, again and again, like a silent litany. Had he really said she was beautiful?

That was her last thought before slipping into the arms of Morpheus.

A mighty crash sent the door careening wildly from side to wide. Kathryn's eyes popped open. She flung up an arm to shield against the glaring sunlight pouring through the opening. It was then that she spotted the imposing male form looming in the doorway. Had the raiders found them? With the sun at his back, his face in shadow, the form appeared dark and featureless and wholly menacing.

The scream that crowded her throat never made it to fruition. Before she could draw breath, Peter was snatched from her arms and handed to someone behind him. Kathryn found herself plucked from the floor like a hen from its nest. It was a rude awakening, in the truest sense...

Pale silver eyes impaled her with their fierceness. "You," she gasped. "I did not know you were back."

"Obviously I came too soon for you to make good your escape." There was no mistaking the anger that fed his accusations. "God's blood, woman, you have the gall of no other! Did you really think you could do it—did you think I'd let you fly like a thief in the night. . . and take my son with you?"

His eyes tore into her, like the slash of a sword point. She gaped at him, stunned. "What— what are you saying? Surely you cannot think that I—"

He seized her arm in a bruising grip. "Say no more, lady! By God, I'll not vouch for my temper right now!" He hauled her outside where a small party of his men awaited, then proceeded to set her on Esmerelda's back so jarringly her teeth came together with a snap.

It took more than an hour and a half to reach Sedgewick. Kathryn rode with her head held regally high, her spine so rigid she felt it might crack.

Not one word was said to her the entire time.

A small cluster of servants waited in the bailey, Gerda among them. The earl handed Peter into her waiting arms. Kathryn could not bear to look at her, certain she would be as silently condemning as the earl. She slid down from Esmerelda unassisted. The next instant a hand touched her shoulder. She started as she saw that it was Gerda, her eyes wide with concern. "Are you all right, milady?"

"I'm fine," she choked out. She could say no more, for suddenly her throat was clogged tight. She pressed the reins into the hands of a waiting groom, whirled around, and rushed for the stairs.

A voice like a whip halted her dead in her tracks. "Where do you think you are going, milady?"

A feeling of sick dread knotted her stomach. She wasn't ready for this, she thought numbly. She was exhausted and cold and hungry. Instinct urged her to run like a hunted animal. Oh, but the better side of reason dictated otherwise. She awaited his approach, still as a statue, not daring to look around. With nary a pause in his stride, he hooked steely fingers into her elbow and pulled her forward.

Kathryn wrenched her arm from his grasp. 'I’m certainly capable of walking on my own," she hissed.

He glared at her but freed her arm. Nonetheless, his pace was so rapid she had a hard time keeping up with him. By the time he slammed the door of the counting room, there was a painful stitch in her side. She stopped in front of the long wide table, while he crossed to the other side.

He drummed his fingers on the tabletop, never relieving her of that unnerving silvery stare. "Well, madam," he said harshly, "what have you to say for yourself?"

Kathryn pressed her lips together. He seemed to have all the answers. Let him supply it!

"What! Does your memory escape you so soon? Or do you need more time to concoct your story?"

Kathryn gritted her teeth. Her stinging resentment increased by leaps and bounds. Always he mocked her. Always he judged her. What point was there in trying to explain?

"Well, milady, what was your plan?"

If he sought to prick her defenses, he succeeded well. She found she could not back down from the challenge inherent in that diamond-hard gaze.

'There was no plan," she said curtly. "Peter and I were at the stream. We decided to ride to the nearest hilltop but we did not get that far. We nearly ran into some men, a band of raiders—"

"Raiders!" A lazy smile of amusement curled his lips. "My lands are safeguarded well, Kathryn. I pride myself upon that. If there were raiders near here, my men would have seen to their demise."

His arrogance never ceased to amaze her. "You think you know so much but you know nothing! I rode deeper into the forest so they wouldn't discover us. But darkness fell and I realized I couldn't find my way back to Sedgewick at night. We found the hut and so I thought it best to spend the night there and return to Sedgewick this morning." When he said nothing, she smothered a cry of indignant outrage. "I heard them, I tell you! There were six of them. They were divided as to whether or not to raid the village here or ride north!"

"As you saw, Kathryn, the village is unharmed and secure."

"Then clearly they decided to head north instead!"

The smile continued to dally about his lips.

Tears rose in her eyes but she clenched her fists and blinked them back. "You—you wrong me grievously," she said, her voice low and intense. "Peter is just a child. To think that I would hurt him—"

His smile withered. The ice in his gaze chilled her to the bone. "I do not believe you would intentionally do him harm," he said coldly. "But he is my son, and I believe you would do anything you could to seek retribution against me."

"Including running off with Peter? Think, my lord! You've been gone a fortnight. If that was my intention, I'd have done it the moment I discovered you gone!"

He made no reply. Kathryn found his silence brutal. She did not know that, unbidden, the memory of their last encounter had soared aloft in his mind. Guy damned himself for tormenting himself these past days—for wondering if she were all right—for fleeing like a coward, loath to face her after what he had done. A hundred times he'd heard her stricken cry as he tore through her maidenhead. And now, seeing her in the flesh once again... Despite her militant stance, he was reminded how fragile and delicate she had felt in his arms, how small and tight was her woman's sheath as he drove inside her—