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Authors: Margo Maguire

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BOOK: The Bride of Windermere
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Blanche screeched when she realized what was happening and tried to make a run for it. Kit tripped her, knocking her face-down onto the muddy floor, and sat on her. Blanche struggled to gain her feet, but Kit held her securely.
“William!”
“Aye, milady?”
“Is Philip—?”
“Out cold!”
“Then come deal with this woman while I see to my husband!”
Wolf lay in the mud on the floor, bruised and sore, still bound tightly and very uncomfortable. “Kit!” His voice was a thin rasp.
“Aye, husband,” Kit replied tearfully, cutting the bindings at his wrists. “I've come for you.” She helped him to sit up, then wrapped her arms around him.
“But how—?”
“Baron Somers saved your life,” she said, looking up at him. “Oh, Wolf—your eye. And this cut—it needs stitching.”
“'Tis nothing,” he said.
“'Tis not,” Kit returned. “You forget I know firsthand of these things.”
“Where is Somers?” Wolf growled as he got to his feet. “I swear by all the saints I'll kick his weasly arse all the way across Cumbria—”
Then Gilbert Juvet was there, along with three or four townsmen—as many as could fit in the small compartment.
“Tom!” Kit cried as Tom Partridge made his way toward her. His nose was a bloody mess but he seemed otherwise unharmed.
“Your Grace,” Tom said to Kit, “I...I ought to apologize—”
“Apologize?”
“For knocking you down out there...”
Kit laughed. “‘Twas your job, was it not?” she asked, taking his arm. “We drew them out, didn't we? Just as we intended.”
“That was you?” Wolf asked. He'd heard some sort of commotion, of course, but it hadn't meant anything to him other than the fact that it had drawn Philip's cronies out of their murky nest, giving him his chance to overpower Philip.
“We couldn't figure any other way to get Lord Philip's men out of here,” Gilbert said.
“So we created a disturbance,” Kit finished.
“Where are Hartford and the other bastards?” Wolf asked.
“We have them all, Your Grace,” Gilbert said. “More than half the town is out there waiting to see Philip dragged from this hovel.”
“Disturbed the lot of them, did we?” Kit asked, laughing now through her tears.
“Aye, ye did, milady,” Daniel Page remarked as he and another man doused Philip Colston with water and yanked him to his feet.
Philip was quick to regain consciousness. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he spat and cursed everyone present, especially Wolf. The townsmen merely laughed at Philip, a comical figure now, covered in mud, foaming and spewing at the mouth. The men weren't gentle with him as they led him away, each man cursing him in return and striking him as it pleased them.
“Take charge here, will you Juvet?” Wolf requested, following the men and their prisoners out of the hovel. “I'd like to get my wife home...”
“Aye, Your Grace,” Juvet replied, clearly pleased at the authority given him by the duke. “By the way, John Carpenter went off in search of Lord Nicholas. If he's found him, I'd imagine he'll be here soon.”
“My thanks, Gilbert,” Wolf said, “for helping my wife save my life...” He put his arm around Kit's shoulders and squeezed. Gilbert shrugged and walked ahead of them out of the little room within the structure of the bridge.
“I don't suppose your
Annalouise
would have done as well?” Kit couldn't resist making the remark, though she'd vowed never to mention the other woman to Wolf.
“Who?”
“I know you were betrothed before Henry ordered you to—”
Wolf laughed out loud. “Annegret? I was never betrothed to Annegret...”
“Annegret,” Kit muttered. “Whoever.”
“And Henry didn't order me to wed you,” Wolf told her. “He ordered me to wed his sister. If I'd known from the first that
you
were his sister, he'd never have had a chance to give the order.”
“Are you certain, Wolf?”
He kissed her soundly. “Annegret represented an alliance to my grandfather. She meant even less to me.”
Kit sighed with relief. The last of her worries was resolved.
“There could be no other wife for me, Sprout,” he said, holding her for a moment before they left the hovel.
So many torches were lit that it seemed more like dawn than the dead of night. Giving truth to Gilbert's words, at least half the town had turned out to see Philip brought low, so unpopular was the former Earl of Windermere. A huge crowd of people waited on the opposite side of the bridge, cackling and jeering at Philip, and throwing overripe fruit and vegetables at him, while Philip screamed back at them. Blanche merely cowered as she was pulled along ahead of her former master, unsure of what her fate was to be.
Wolf and Kit stayed back, savoring a moment alone while the crowd at the other end feasted on Philip's downfall. The emotions of the hour finally overcame her, and Kit was unable to restrain her tears any longer. Wolf held her until her weeping subsided.
“I must get you home and see to these injuries,” Kit said, sniffling.
“Aye,” Wolf smiled. “For the first time, I'll be able to rest easy in our bed at Windermere. And time enough to tell me how—”
“What's going on up there?” Kit asked, looking up at the bridge, wiping the last of her tears away.
There was no longer any commotion. The townspeople were quiet and Philip was raving madly. It was impossible to understand all of his words though Kit and Wolf were able to glimpse a scuffle taking place in the center of the bridge. Then there was a frantic shout and a man flung himself from the highest point, down into the shallow water beneath the bridge. Kit gasped and covered her mouth with her hands.
Philip. It had to be Philip.
Wolf walked down the embankment into the darkness and waded into the knee-deep water. The crowd spread out along the bank of the river to watch silently as the duke pulled his hated cousin out of the water. Not a single person hoped for his survival, nor gave up a silent prayer for his salvation.
Chapter Twenty-three
 
 
Windermere Castle
October, 1421
 
A
fire blazed in the huge hearth of the great hall where a beautiful new banner hung from the high wooden beams over the duke's table. Clean, herb-scented rushes were spread about the floor. In daylight hours, the sky was clearly visible through clean windows. All traces of soot and ash were gone, and the dust was kept at bay by a throng of well-directed, faithful servants. Dried flowers in pitchers adorned each table, and a huge wreath of them hung over the mantel of the largest fireplace.
The tunnels beneath Windermere castle were still being filled in. It was a huge task, filling the barrows with earth and carting them down the dark passageways. But Wolf was determined to wipe out any trace of Philip and his depravity. He would keep no reminders of Philip's hideous reign over Windermere.
. Luckily, Maggie, the dark-haired maid who was so devoted to Kit, had only suffered a lump on the head the night Christine Wellesley had sought to trap Kit with Baron Somers. She was discovered the following morning locked in a garderobe near the duke's chambers, suffering with a miserable headache and worried to death over Kit's fate. She became Kit's personal maid and companion as soon as her head mended.
Lady Christine Wellesley left Windermere in disgrace.
Baron Somers was returned to Somerton for burial.
Blanche Hanchaw and the men known to have been Philip's cohorts were taken to London to stand trial on several different charges. All were found guilty and hanged except for Blanche. The Hanchaw woman was bound and sentenced by the court to spend the rest of her wretched days in a dungeon in Wessex, under a moldy old castle never used anymore by its lord, the Duke of Carlisle.
Hugh Dryden's wounds began to heal with time and great care, though it would still be some time before he'd be able to claim his own estate.
Kit stifled a yawn. It was late and though she was tremendously hungry, she could easily have returned to bed. In fact, Kit even considered asking Maggie to bring a tray to her chamber. Wolf had vetoed that notion, though. He wanted his duchess at the evening meal, for they were having guests and he said he had a few announcements to make.
Maggie came to help her dress for dinner. Kit had just had a nap and couldn't understand her continued fatigue. “I brought you a little snack,” Maggie said. “I've, er...noticed as how you've been especially hungry lately...”
“'Tis strange, isn't it?” Kit asked. “I don't remember ever having such an appetite before.”
“I don't suppose...”
“What?” Kit covered another yawn with her hand.
“Well, I only wondered if...”
A gentle tapping at the door interrupted their conversation. Maggie answered it and let in Emma Juvet.
“Sleeping again, are you?” Emma asked, embracing Kit. Gilbert was now the reeve of Windermere, and his position brought the Juvets into frequent contact with Kit and Wolfram Colston.
“I just don't understand it,” Kit said as Maggie fastened up her gown. “I've already rested once this afternoon, and I'm ready to sleep even more.”
Emma laughed. “You'd figure it out if you gave it the least little bit o' thought.”
“I'd figure...?”
“Have you considered the possibility of a babe?”
“For heaven's sake, I...I've...”
Emma and Maggie stood there smiling foolishly, waiting for Kit to draw her own conclusion.
“I'm with child?” Kit asked, a bit bewildered by the prospect. She had never kept track of her menses, though she knew that their lack usually indicated pregnancy. It's just that she and Wolf hadn't ever discussed children. And with all the activity these last months since their coming to Windermere, she hadn't given much thought to having babies. Though now, the idea was very appealing.
They would have a child. She and Wolf had made a child together.
The two other women nodded. “Of course that's it,” Emma said.
“But I'm never sick,” Kit protested, worried that it might not be true, “and I remember quite distinctly hearing that—”
“I was never sick with Alfie,” Emma interrupted. “Not a once.”
“So you mean it's possible?” Kit asked, her eyes gleaming. “Truly?”
Emma nodded. Kit wondered what Wolf would say when she told him about the babe. She would plan the telling for a quiet, romantic time...perhaps first thing in the morning when the sun was bright and she would be able to see her husband's face. He was usually in an amorous mood upon awakening...
Kit was the last to arrive in the hall. Wolf was just about to leave his guests to go fetch her himself, but then she arrived, looking sleepy...and a little bit bewildered.
“Kathryn,” Wolf said as she greeted him with a kiss. “Are you well?”
“Of course I am well. What could be amiss?” Kit replied with a smile. She turned and nodded to Wolfs companions. They were dressed in their finest tunics. “Nicholas, Edward, how festive you look...”
“Come. All is ready,” Wolf said, leading Kit to their table. The others followed and took their places as well. Musicians came into the hall and began entertaining as the servants brought in the first courses of the meal. Kit ate ravenously, happily aware that she was providing sustenance not only for herself, but her babe, too.
When Wolf finished his meal, he stood and garnered everyone's attention. His announcements began with awards of land to those of his men who would go. They were Kenneth, Egbert and Chester, all men who intended to marry and establish homes of their own.
“I would not wish for these three to leave me now, but their estates are nearby and we will see them often,” Wolf said. “I can also say that I now understand the attractions of home and wife. Lady Kathryn and I wish you well.” He raised his glass and everyone toasted the knights who intended to leave Windermere.
“Next, we must bid my cousin, Nicholas, Viscount of Thornton, farewell,” Wolf said. There were calls of protest from the lower tables, but Wolf went on. “It is time for him to claim his title and take his estates in hand. I have selfishly relied on him long enough.” Wolf picked up a parchment from the table where he'd sat for the meal. “Besides, I recently received this missive from our grandfather in Bremen. It warns that if the bastard grandson does not soon claim what is his, King Henry will surely come to his senses and revoke what was given. He urges you, Nicholas, to get to Thornton in all haste.” A great deal of laughter accompanied Rudolph Gerhart's warning, and Wolf noticed the look of shock in Kit's eyes.
“Did I ever mention that my uncle never wed Nicholas' mother?” Wolf asked Kit.
She shook her head, still stunned.
“Nick's worth is greater than all the legitimate cousins I've ever had, and I love him well,” Wolf remarked. His voice was loud enough for Nicholas and everyone at the duke's table to hear. “We have been as brothers these twenty years and will continue another forty.”
“Hear, hear!”
“Lastly,” Wolf began, “I invite all of you to return in the month of May for the christening of our firstborn child.”
At this, a cheer went up, and Kit looked at Wolf with her jaw agape. He knew! He winked at her, grinning.
“Of course, I cannot give you an exact date, but the birth will occur in the spring.”
 
Later, after the candles were out, a cozy fire had been banked in their room, and they were snuggled together in their big bed. “When did you realize I was carrying our babe?”
He smiled. “I think it was the morning when you finished your own porridge, and then started on mine.”
She poked his ribs.
“Or was it that day a couple of weeks ago when you slept till noon, had a nap and then retired just after dark?”
“Rascal!”
“Oh, Kit, how I love you.” He laughed and gathered her into his arms. “I know that your monthly courses ceased soon after we arrived at Windermere. That means you'll bear our child late in April. It would please me if she were born on the anniversary of the day I took you from Somerton.”
“She?”
“Of course,” Wolf said. “I want a daughter exactly like you. She will have a father who loves her and dotes upon her.”
“And what of sons?”
“You may have as many as you like,” he said, grinning, “as long as you give me my daughter first.”
Then he turned and unfastened the ties of her gown. He kissed her mouth, then her throat and shoulders. Kit shuddered, overcome by feelings of warmth, security and love.
“I love you, Wolf.”
“I know,” he said.
“My life would have been nothing if Philip had—”
“Hush, love,” he said, easing her down onto the bed. “You rescued me, and all is well.”
“Better than I'd ever hoped...”
“Feel free to rescue me any time,” he murmured and showed his wife that she was well and truly loved.
 
 
BOOK: The Bride of Windermere
4.76Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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