Margo Maguire (15 page)

Mayhap Kathryn’s appearance had changed since her night in Edric’s bed, or ’twas her lack of conversation, but when Lora stopped and looked directly at her, the woman’s brow furrowed with concern. “What is it? What is amiss?” she asked quietly, her gaze seeming more penetrating than usual. “Is Bryce—”

“No, no,” Kathryn quickly reassured her. “I did
not see him this morn, so I can only assume his condition is unchanged.”

What she had shared with Edric during the night was not something she could discuss with anyone. She’d wept her tears for what could never be, then made her decision to accept what affection Edric would give her. Yet she could never make her shameful position public.

She’d become his leman.

“Sit down, Kate,” said Lora. “You’ve suddenly become so pale. Have you broken your fast?”

The healer took Aidan from her, and when Kathryn had taken a seat at the table, Lora gave her a mug of water, along with a slice of bread and a portion of cheese.

“I’m not hungry…I think it must just be the shock of seeing those shops burned…”

Lora went to the door and peered out at all the damage done by the Fergusons. “Aye. ’Twas terrible. The men worked all night to quell the flames and make the buildings safe for habitation. If not for you—”

“Where is Drogan?” Kathryn asked. Drogan was the one person who would guess that she and Edric had become lovers. He seemed to sense everything that happened to Edric and Bryce, and he would surely realize that her association with Edric had changed.

Lora returned to the table and sat down across from Kathryn. “He’s gone to finish what’s left of Ferguson’s warriors.”

Kathryn made a face and shuddered.

“No one at Braxton Fell will mourn the end of them. Not after the years of trouble between us. Besides, Drogan will bring back their harvest and all their livestock. Mayhap ’twill be all we need in order to survive the winter.”

A quiet knock sounded at the cottage door. When Lora opened it, they saw Caedmon, one of the grooms, standing outside, out of breath from running. He pulled off his hood when he spoke to Lora. “Greetings, mistress. I’ve been sent to fetch you to the hall.”

Lora gave a quick glance in Elga’s direction, but did not hesitate to get her bag of potions. “She’ll be all right if we leave her. Tell me what’s happened.”

“’Tis Lord Bryce. He’s feverish and talking nonsense.”

E
dric’s mood vacillated between jubilant and discouraged. His night of bliss had ended when he’d awakened alone. Quickly pulling on some clean clothes, he’d gone in search of Kate.

Beautiful Kate. He could barely catch his breath when he thought of her in the throes of passion. There was nothing more appealing than the sight of a woman taking her pleasure while coupling with her man. He should not have become aroused by the mere image of her in his mind, having been sated so often during the night, but his desire for her seemed endless.

He realized he should have shown some restraint with his virgin lover, and hoped she was not too tender this morn. The muscles of his chest contracted when he considered how he would make it up to her.

She was nowhere to be found in the keep. Since no one had seen her, Edric realized she must have left his bed at an early hour, indeed. It occurred to him that she must have wanted to get away from his chamber before anyone saw her.

She was embarrassed.

He frowned at the realization, but decided her unintended discretion was for the best. ’Twould not do for Father Algar to learn of their liaison, or they would have no end of sermons on the evil of fornication and the fires of hell. Nor would Oswin take it well, not after Edric’s disastrous marriage with Cecily and the man’s ill feelings toward every other Norman.

Edric started toward Bryce’s chamber and was met by the man on guard. “My lord, I was just about to come for you.”

“Aye? What is amiss, Desmond?” Edric asked, going into Bryce’s room.

“Your brother became overrestless in his sleep. When he spoke, he made no sense. His speech was garbled, his skin hot, my lord.”

Bryce’s lips were dry. Edric reached for a mug
of water and encouraged his brother to take a sip.

“Find one of the grooms to go for Lora. She’ll know what to do.”

“Aye, my lord. I already took the liberty of doing so.”

The guard stepped outside and Edric was left alone with his brother. He took the blanket off him and looked at the wound. The edges at one end had turned an angry red, the worst possible development after an injury such as Bryce’s.

“Bryce?”

The young man moaned in response, then tried to turn over, wincing with the effort it took. Edric would have helped him move, but he thought it best not to jar him. “Here, take some more water,” he said, unreasonably expecting Kate to turn up. Unreasonably
hoping
she would turn up.

’Twas an eternity before Lora arrived. Worry and concern darkened her eyes when she looked at Bryce.

“Stand aside, Edric. Let me examine him.”

Lora set her canvas satchel upon the bed beside Bryce’s knees and Edric stepped away. He took note of Kate then, holding Aidan as she stood under the lintel of the door. Part of the shadow that had hovered over him since awakening alone disappeared. He would have gathered her into his
arms, but for her distant expression and the formal tone of her words. “Lord Edric…What is amiss?”

There was barely a flicker of acknowledgment of what had transpired between them and he realized she had said naught of her night to Lora.

He turned back to Bryce. “His wound has become foul.”

Worry clouded her soft brown eyes, the eyes that had shuddered closed with pleasure uncounted times through the night.

Edric gave himself a mental shake. He could not relive every amorous moment while Bryce lay here so dangerously ill. “Will you come in?” he asked her.

Her delicate throat moved as she swallowed. “No, forgive me. I…I…”

He remembered her unease in the sickroom. “’Tis all right, Kate. Go and take care of my son.”

She seemed torn, and he wanted to touch her, to reassure her. But she soon turned and took her leave, and Edric returned to his brother’s bedside.

“Hold his arms,” Lora said.

Edric did as he was told and Bryce moaned as Lora split the stitches where the wound had putrefied. She took water and a clean cloth, and washed the wound, squeezing out whatever poison had
tainted it. When she was finished with the most delicate part of her task, Edric was aware of her frequent sidelong glances.

“What is it? Can you cure his fever?”

“I’ll do what I can. Tell me about Kate.”

“What about her?”

Lora pressed her lips tightly together as she worked on Bryce’s wound and he groaned. “Keep his hands away.”

“What about Kate?”

“She nearly fainted in my cottage this morn.”

Edric frowned, clenching his jaw muscles. “What happened? Why—”

“I thought it was hunger,” she said, stopping what she was doing to Bryce. “But she said not. Mayhap ’twas just that I’d asked about Bryce and it brought back memories of
this
.”

“So hot,” Bryce moaned. “Take it out. Take it out!”

“The fever has addled his brain,” Lora said. “Help me raise him up.”

Lora fed him a potion that was meant to cool his blood, and they gave him as many draughts of water as he would take, but the delirium continued.

“Will you stay with him?”

Lora nodded. “But will you send one of the servants to check on Elga for me? Her mind seemed
right by the time we returned to the cottage last night, but I’d like to be sure.”

Edric agreed, but before he could leave the chamber, Oswin arrived. He questioned Lora about Bryce’s condition, then turned to Edric “If you can be spared, my lord, I would like a moment with you.”

“Aye. Go,” said Lora, and the two men left Bryce’s chamber and went down to Edric’s study.

Edric sat, but Oswin paced. “My lord, about last eve…’Twas not seemly for the Norman to make herself so important here. When have we ever allowed serving maids to dictate what is done in your hall?”

“It worked out well, did it not?”

“Lord Edric, you are missing the point.”

“I don’t think so. At great personal risk, she raised the alarm and brought the villagers to the keep where they were safe during the course of the battle. ’Twas by her hand that Robert Ferguson met his end.”

“That remains to be seen. I’ve spoken to Gwen—”

Edric stood abruptly. “And what does
that
maid say?”

“My lord, I would only remind you that there are other ways to look at what happened.”

“I don’t think so.”

Oswin clasped his hands behind his back. “She is a comely maid, my lord. After your year of—”

“Of what, Oswin? Celibacy? Do you imply I am thinking only with my cock?”

The steward was visibly taken aback. “My lord, as a friend of your father…I beg you to think of Braxton Fell in your dealings with that giglet.”

Edric took a deep breath and walked away from his desk, wondering if Oswin was right. Had his year of sexual frustration distorted his judgment? “’Twill be a cold day in hell before any Norman holds sway over me ever again.”

Oswin seemed to relax with Edric’s statement. “What news of Drogan?”

Kathryn collected the milk she would need for the day and returned to Lora’s cottage. She did not think Elga should be left alone, not so soon after her upset over the Scots’ attack, and there was no doubt Lora would have to stay with Bryce at least until his condition improved.

So would Edric. He was as devoted to Bryce as Kathryn was to her sister, Isabel. ’Twas one of the things that endeared him to her.

Yet her feelings could never be made known, neither to Edric nor to anyone else at Braxton Fell. Their liaison was forbidden in every respect, not the least of which was her lack of honesty with
him. She’d allowed him to believe she was a serving maid, but if he ever discovered she was the daughter of Baron Henri Louvet, the depth of his contempt would be bottomless.

She might have killed Robert Ferguson, but that did not alter the fact that she was a Norman. The Saxons’ gratitude would soon cool and they would once again remember that she was an outsider.

Elga was out of bed and dressed when Kathryn arrived at the cottage, and she explained where Lora had gone and why. “I’d like to stay a while,” she said, “and mayhap you could teach me to weave.”

She sat with the older woman while she broke her fast, and after putting Aidan on the bed to sleep, the two went into the weaving room. Elga would not allow Kathryn to touch her looms, but started her with a ball of soft woolen thread and two long, wooden sticks. “Can you knit?”

Kathryn shook her head. “No, I never learned.”

“What
can
you do, then?”

“Well, I’m not entirely useless. I can take care of livestock,” said Kathryn proudly, but Elga did not seem impressed. “I can cipher and keep records.”

The woman’s eyes widened at this, and Kathryn realized her mistake. No villein on any estate would have these skills. She shrugged as though it meant naught. “I learned at the abbey…I—I
lived there for years before coming to England.”

Elga seemed placated by Kathryn’s explanation, so the first lesson began.

“Go,” said Lora. “Get some food in your belly. You’ve left this chamber only once all day and your pacing does not help.”

Edric’s stomach growled again and he realized she was right. He needed to eat, and he had a few other matters to attend to. Bryce was in good hands.

He took his leave and went to the nursery again, and saw that it had been tidied and the floor washed. No signs of the attack remained. Still, he did not want his son to stay in that room ever again.

The solar where he’d given Kate her first lesson in defense was close to his own bedchamber and spacious enough to accommodate a large bed—one he planned to visit frequently—as well as having room for Aidan’s cradle. There was also plenty of space for the settee and two chairs to remain.

Returning to the great hall, he took note of the changes Kate had wrought and saw that it was more like the home he remembered, the place where he and Bryce had been born and raised. She’d found another of his father’s banners, and had had it hung from the rafters above the dais. A
quick glance at the stair reminded him of all she’d said the night before as she’d stood a step above his people—a foreigner, addressing the mob that had gathered there for protection.

Her actions were more like those of a highborn lady than a Norman peasant, and he knew there was much that she concealed from him.

Thoroughly satisfied with their situation as it was, he would not press her for information. If she did not want to return to Rushton, ’twas her own affair. But he was not going to allow her to leave for the nunnery at Evesham Bridge. ’Twould be a terrible waste.

Drogan had taken most of Braxton’s fyrd with him to Dunfergus, and so there were few guards left to watch over the keep. But young Caedmon stood at the door, ready to act in defense of all within if necessary. Edric asked him to find Kate.

“My lord, she went back to the village. She stays with Elga in Lora’s absence.”

Edric did not acknowledge his disappointment, but returned to Bryce’s room and stood by while one of the servants assisted Lora in bathing Bryce’s arms and body with cool water. “The potion helped somewhat,” Lora said. “But he’s still too warm, still delirious.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Edric asked.

“I’ve expelled the poisons from the wound and
put a poultice on it. He’s taken the willow bark potion for his fever, and we’re bathing him to cool him. I know of nothing more to do.”

“Then why don’t
you
go down to the kitchen for a meal. I’ll stay here with Bryce.”

“Aye, I’ll do that. Did you send someone to see about Elga?”

“Kate is with her,” Edric said.

Lora smiled. “She knew Elga had a difficult night. ’Tis very kind of her to keep her company in my absence.”

Edric frowned. He had not thought of Kate’s visit to Elga as a deliberate favor to Lora, yet it must have been.

Lora left the room and Edric sat down on the mattress next to Bryce. His brother’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes dull. “Edric.”

Edric took his brother’s hot, dry hand. “Aye. I’m here.”

“Ferguson…He’s sneaking in through the—”

“No, Bryce. Léod and Robert are both dead.”

“But your son—Aidan…”

Edric calmed his brother with reassurances that all was well. He placed a cool, wet cloth upon Bryce’s forehead and implored him to sleep.

“Guard your eyes when you look at her, Edric.”

“My eyes?” Edric was unsure what new delusion clouded Bryce’s mind.

“They tell what you feel for her.”

“What I—?” Kate. He was speaking of Kate. “You’re imagining things, Bryce. Try to rest.”

He meant what he’d told Oswin. What he felt for the Norman was no more than what he would feel for any comely maid who deigned to share his bed. The only Norman who would ever hold sway over him again was King William. Now that they’d gotten rid of Ferguson, Edric might even travel south to meet with the Norman king and address the requirements of his enfeoffment. Somehow, the reputedly astute William had misapprehended the resources at Braxton Fell. ’Twas time that mistake was corrected.

“Deceive yourself if you will…” Bryce muttered and then drifted off to sleep.

When Kathryn left Elga’s cottage, ’twas nearly dusk. For hours, she’d had to force herself to stay away from the keep and to stop wondering whether Edric would have spent the day with her had Bryce not become ill.

’Twas a foolish notion. She was not his chatelaine. She had no part in the affairs of his estate or matters of housekeeping, unless they involved Aidan. She was Edric’s leman and nothing more. Soon every servant in the keep would know it, and the whole village, as well.

Kathryn tamped down her embarrassment at that thought and held Aidan against her breast. She’d wanted the affection of a husband, a chance for that small seed of sentiment to develop into something more. She’d taken a lover instead.

She hurried past the church with bowed head, aware that she should go inside and confess her sin. But fear fluttered in her chest when she thought of facing the malevolent little priest. He would surely curse her for her transgression.

And Kathryn could not blame him, for she did not repent, nor would she refuse Edric access to her bed…to her body, or her heart. He owned them all.