Tori Phillips (32 page)

Kat relaxed against the pillows and sighed. “You must go, my heart. I will delay supper.” She kissed the back of his hand. “Your squire’s voice is full of urgency.”

Brandon blew an errant curl out of his eyes. “That whipster of mine has the devil for a timekeeper.” He got off the bed, then pulled on the clean set of hose that Kat had placed on the stool by the tub.

Mark knocked again. “My lord?”

“Anon!” Brandon roared at his unseen squire. “And you’d best pray that the matter is a serious one.” He donned his shirt.

“Aye, my lord,” the youth replied. “Your father brought home Tod Wormsley from the forest. He’s been wounded and near death.”

Kat’s eyes flew open. “Tod! Angels in heaven preserve him!” Clutching her ruined bodice, she got out of the bed.

“Amen to that!” Brandon thrust his feet into his leather boots, then tossed his doublet over one shoulder. He crossed to Kat’s side and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Take this mark as my pledge for a new gown.” His eyes shone with a soft look when he smiled down at her. “You are the balm of my soul, sweetheart,” he murmured. Then he was gone.

Kat fell back among the tumbled bedclothes.
What a shameless wanton that man has made of me! Aye! And I’d do all it again in a heartbeat.

She placed her hand on the spot where he had lain beside her. The coverlet was damp and warm from his heat. She sighed deeply.
Katherine, you are the biggest fool God ever created.

Mark led Brandon downstairs to the small alcove, then the squire withdrew to join the rest of the castle’s inhabitants at a noisy supper in the adjoining hall. Sir Thomas, still attired in his hunting cloak and boots, drank deeply from a tankard. Guy and Jack, their hair damp from their baths, had serious expressions on their faces. They greeted Brandon in subdued tones.

Sir Thomas eyed his older son over his mug. “About time.”

Brandon thrust his arms into his jacket sleeves. “How is the lad?” he asked, his fingers fumbling with his buttons.

“Lives,” his father answered simply. He slammed his tankard onto the small table. “But he has lost a great deal of blood. That healer is with him now. She says tonight will tell his fate.”

Brandon made the sign of the cross. “Pray God for his recovery.”

The others followed suit.

“Amen to that!” Sir Thomas bristled as he looked at each of the younger men in turn. “He’s a brave lad! Said that he swore to tell you, Stafford, that his master has lost his wits. Said that he is coming to the wedding and he hungers for your blood, Brandon.” The eldest Cavendish glared at his son. “Does this drivel make any sense to you?”

Brandon curled back his lip. “Aye. ’Tis Fenton Scantling, Lady Katherine’s nephew.”

Sir Thomas’s eyebrows shot up. “The same who shot Francis?”

Brandon made a fist behind his back. “Aye.”

“Methought he had fled the district,” his father barked. “Truly the man is a lackwit to stay.”

“How the devil did he escape our search?” Jack asked.

The Earl of Thornbury snorted. “I found the boy hanging onto a tree limb. My squire took a look around That poxy tree had a hollow center. William saw an arrow at the bottom of it, and a wealth of blood. ’Twas a miracle the boy could pull himself out of that hellhole!”

Guy whistled through his teeth. “No wonder we never found them!”

Sir Thomas waved the subject away. “’Tis tomorrow that burdens my mind. We must call the wedding off.”

Brandon felt as if he had been slapped in the face. With his body still aglow from Kat’s lovemaking, the last thing he intended to do was to let her go now, especially at his father’s whim. “Nay,” he replied steadily, staring directly at his father.

Sir Thomas’s blue eyes glowered. “Listen to me, boy. We do not speak of the lady, ‘tis your king you must now consider. His chamberlain sent word an hour ago that the royal party lodges at Hever, and will be here by ten o’clock tomorrow morning. we are not to begin the ceremony without the royal Robin Hood!”

“I will marry Kat, father, come hellfire and brimstone!”

Sir Thomas slammed his fist on the tabletop. “You will go to the devil soon enough, I warrant You haven’t heard two words that I’ve said, Brandon! This Scantling means to kill you in your wedding finery, and in full sight of the king. We cannot allow a madman with a crossbow near His Grace. Or you, for that matter.”

Putting sweet Katherine aside, Brandon’s mind considered the problem from a different point of view. “This bloody-mouthed cur will come in a disguise, methinks. One that will not draw attention.”

Sir Thomas threw up his hands. “God’s teeth! More masques! First, we have Robin Hood and Maid Marian, and Lord knows who else. Now we have a murderer dressed up as...what?”

Jack snapped his fingers. “As one of the villagers or farmers. Lady Kat wants to be married in the little church on the other side of the meadow, so that all her people can witness it. The chapel here is too small.”

“But the chapel inside the castle is safer,” Guy mused. “’Twould be better to move the ceremony there.”

Sir Thomas looked pointedly at Brandon. “’Twould be better to dispense with it altogether. You know my thoughts on this matter.”

Brandon gritted his teeth. “All too well, Father, but my mind is made up.” He leaned across the table. “And I am much like you, sir. I have a very stubborn streak.”

“Bah!” Sir Thomas strode out of the alcove.

Guy sank onto the bench. “One day you will try his patience too far, big brother.”

“Aye, but that day has not yet come.” Brandon straddled the stool and regarded his sibling. “Mark me, my friends! I have just been gifted with a most marvelous plan.”

“I knew it!” Jack crowed. “When did you not have one or two plots up your sleeve, Brandon? What is our little game this time?”

“’Twill involve more disguising,” he replied with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

Guy groaned. “As long as I do not have to dress up as a woman, I am ready for anything!”

Brandon chuckled. ’Twas one of his best ideas yet, if only Kat and the hapless squires would agree.

“Tonight, after the household is abed...”

A hand closed over Kat’s mouth, startling her into wakefulness. Fenton! she thought, as she struggled to free herself from the bedclothes.

“Kat!” Brandon whispered in her ear. “’Tis I, sweetheart. You must be still.”

Kat blinked as the last vestiges of sleep cleared from her eyes. Brandon smiled down at her, then kissed her nose. Was it morning already? It had taken Kat hours to fall asleep. And what was Brandon doing in her chamber? ’Twas very unlucky for the bridegroom to see his bride before the ceremony.

“Brandon! You should not be here!” she whispered.

He chuckled. “Aye, but events outpace us. We must be up and about early.”

Beside her, Miranda jumped. Glancing at her bedmate, Kat saw Jack leaning over her. By the glow of the firelight, she made out the figure of Guy at the foot of the bed. All three men had the most devilish grins on their faces.

Kat pulled herself to a sitting position, then crossed her arms over her breasts. “What’s amiss? Is this some sort of mischievous trick to play upon a bride before her wedding day? Truly, gentlemen, I am a bit too old for such games.”

Brandon sat down on the bed beside her. “You are as youthful as eternal springtime, sweetheart, but there is more to this midnight visit than jests and tricks.”

“’Tis midnight?” Miranda gasped, rubbing sleep from her eyes. “Crickets!”

“Shush, my love.” Jack stopped her mouth with a kiss.

“’Tis the first hour of Midsummer’s Day,” Brandon crooned, running his hands along Kat’s arms. “The dawn comes earliest this mom, so we must be about our business quickly.”

Kat shivered under his touch but refused to give in to its suggestion. “So? Good morrow and goodbye, until we meet at the church door.”

“My very words,” Brandon continued in his soft, seductive voice. “I wish I could spend an hour or two discoursing with you, fair Katherme—you look passing sweet at this moment—”

Guy snapped his fingers several times. “Get on with it, Brandon! The cock will crow too soon.”

“Then to the heart of the matter. You know that your nephew has taken a hearty dislike to me?”

Kat nodded. Brandon stroked her cheek, making it very difficult to concentrate on anything but his tempting presence.

“Wormsley has told us that Scantling means to kill me at the church door.”

“Nay!” Kat put her hand to her mouth. “’Tis too wicked!”

“He must have lost his wits,” Miranda gasped.

“My thoughts exactly, ladies.” Brandon grew more serious. “I promise you, this will not happen. I will not put you into any kind of danger, sweet Katherine.”

The devil take him! Brandon and his craven friends were going to run away, leaving her at the church door. “Was this your idea or your father’s?” she asked coldly.

Brandon knotted his brows together. “My father has nothing to do with this, Kat. He wishes to call the wedding off.”

“And isn’t that what you are doing this minute—slipping out of a marriage you do not want? At least, you have the decency to say goodbye before you sneak out of here like a thief in the night.”

Leaning over, Brandon whispered in her ear. “If we were alone, and not in such a hurry, I would prove to you how much I want to slip
into
this marriage, my sweet.”

Kat’s skin tingled all over.

“About it, man!” Jack snorted impatiently. “The long and the short of it is this, Kat. Your elderly priest stands waiting now in your chapel to bind you and my silver-tongued friend here in holy matrimony.”

She must be dreaming, Kat thought

Brandon chuckled. “Ah, Jack of Hearts, you have such a way with women. But he speaks the truth, Kat. ’Tis Midsummer’s Day, and by royal command—and by my heart—I will wed you in holy mother church.”

“But what of later this morning?” Kat glanced at Jack and Guy. She wasn’t dreaming. “What of the king?”

“My first thought is to make you well and truly my wife,” Brandon continued, his gaze speaking volumes in blue. “Later?” He chuckled under his breath. “The king is not the only one to play a part. We have devised a mummery that will catch out the villain. Afterward, if you want to be married again, we can do that, too.”

Kat tried to read past his laughing expression but couldn’t. “You are marrying me to defy your father?”

Guy groaned. “Was there ever such a cautious woman? You offer her honorable marriage, and she questions you like a judge! Let’s do this the old-fashioned way. Just pick her up, Brandon, throw her over your shoulder, and carry her to the chapel as is! Jack can bring the maid of honor.”

“Coz! They have gone stark, staring mad—or else drunk too much wine!” Miranda tried to pull the sheet up to her chin, but Jack refused to let her.

“Nay, my love,” Jack whispered. “We are stone sober, and in serious earnest.” He pulled back the covers from both women.

Brandon stood, then held out his hand to Kat. “Will you marry me, sweet Katherine?”

He means it! Now! And I still do not know what is in his heart. I will not go into yet another marriage without love. I’d rather die!

She pulled her hand out of his. “Nay, I cannot,” she whispered, blinking back her tears.

Chapter Twenty-Two

B
randon looked as if he had been struck. “’Tis my father. What bribe did he offer to you to reject me?”

Kat stuck out her chin. “None. ’Tis my own choice.”

Brandon drew himself up to his full height. The light from the fire made him look even taller. The only sound heard in the chamber was the pop and hiss of the logs in the grate.

“Very well, Lady Katherine.” He drew out his words slowly. “I thank you very much for your...haspitality, and I wish you a pleasant good-night. But, before I leave Bodiam, will you please tell me what it is about me that so revolts you?”

Kat gasped. She could sense, rather than see, the barely controlled power that was coiled in his body. She wanted to touch him, but he had moved out of range.
One wrong word, and you will lose him forever. Is this what you truly want?

She leveled her gaze at him. “I cannot marry a man who does not love me.”

“Doesn’t love...?” Brandon seemed to collapse within himself. “Of course, I love you, you little idiot!” he roared when he recovered the full command of his voice. He plucked her out of the bed and shook her. “What makes you think I don’t? Haven’t I shown you my love time and again? What of this afternoon before supper? What about the moat?”

Kat gaped at him. “The moat?” she echoed.

“Aye, that foul, stinking, puking, green-slimed moat! Do you think I’d ever consider cleaning it out if I didn’t love you?”

Kat gazed at him, hardly daring to believe her ears. “You love me?” she asked softly. “For me alone? Not my lands? Not my estate? Not for childbearing? Not to spite your father? Just me?”

He crushed her against his chest. Under his doublet, she felt the rapid beating of his heart, as if he had been running very hard. Then he set her on her feet on the cold floor. He went down on one knee before her.

“Before God, and before these grinning witnesses, I, Brandon Thomas Cavendish, do swear upon my sword that I love you, Lady Katherine Fitzhugh, with all my heart and soul until my dying breath. Furthermore, I will cherish you, protect you and be faithful to you alone all my life. Will you please marry me now, before the priest in the chapel falls asleep?”

Kat could not keep her tears from spilling down her cheeks. “Aye, Brandon, I will.” She looked around for her robe, but it had disappeared among the bedclothes. “Give us a few moments. Miranda and I must dress first.”

With a growl, Brandon grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. “Why bother? ’Twill take only a few minutes, then I’ll have you back between the sheets in no time.”

Guy opened the door. “That’s the spirit! I like to see the old customs kept up.”

Kat thumped Brandon on the back as he carried her down the corridor. “Put me down!” she whispered just as they passed the senior Cavendish’s door.