Her Lord and Protector (formerly titled On Silent Wings) (32 page)

Katherine took
Carly’s hand as Stephen walked with Alex through the door and to the long table
in the Hall.

Alex remained
aloof and silent all the next day, coming out of his study only to gaze upon
his white-clothed cousin lying in her coffin with her hands crossed over her
chest. He remained apart from Katherine through the night.

Katherine didn’t
seek him out, knowing that Alex’s way of dealing with death was to enclose
himself within his grief. When he was ready, he would come to her.

The next
evening, looking older and exhausted, he joined her in their bed, and she held
his tense body close. She stroked his warm skin and pressed her face to the
soft, springy hair of his chest. She said nothing, knowing her touch was what
he needed.

At length he
responded, turning on his side and pulling her into his arms. “I couldn’t save
her,” he said, his voice muffled on her neck.

“You are not to
blame,” she whispered. “Nothing could be done.”

His arms
tightened around her like bands of steel. “I loved her. I do not think she
knew. I never told her.”

“She knew,”
Katherine said softly, and kissed his mouth. “She loved you, too.”

For a time he
was silent. Then, his hands began to slide roughly over her back and buttocks
and between her thighs.

“I need you.”
His breath was warm against her breasts. He raised his head and engulfed her in
the sad blue of his eyes. “’Tis wrong, I know.”

“No, Alex. Not
wrong.” She curled on her side and kissed him, then boldly ran the tip of her
tongue across his bottom lip. In her hand she took him and slid her fingers
down his length. He quickly grew hard under her coaxing. “Let me comfort you.”

Alex needed no
further persuading, and relished her gasp of pleasure when he rolled her on her
back and slid over top of her. He sealed her lips with his. Raw, rough emotions
coursed through him as he thrust his tongue into her mouth and brusquely ran
his hands over her warm silky skin until he thought he would go wild with
desire. He kissed his way down her breasts and stomach, smelled her sweet,
musky scent, tasted and teased the nub at her center with his lips and tongue until
her thighs quivered in his hands. She was wet and ready for him.

He moved up and
laid claim to her willing mouth while he positioned himself and thrust into
her. He pulled almost all the way out and then drove into her again, and again,
faster and faster.

He thought he
was being too rough. But she arched her back and wrapped her legs around his
hips and clutched his back with her hands. Her soft, sexy whimpers turned into
throaty cries of bliss. In her eyes, he saw her love for him.

Katherine took
in the hot desire in Alex’s eyes. She ran her fingers through his loose, soft
hair and let him ride out his pent up emotions, his raw male power. His weight
on her was a sensual confinement, his tongue and hands and hard-driving penis
the luscious restraints that held her captive.

He filled her,
made her complete. He drove into her and touched a hidden place that built up a
crescendo of sensation, sending her straight to the summit. She clutched him,
dug her fingers into his back as she went over the edge, and he leaned into her
and drove all the harder.

“I love you,” he
whispered savagely, his breath hot against her ear. “Love you.”

Abruptly
Katherine shattered into a million delightful bits and then melted away into paradise.

Alex shuddered
and released himself into her, his breaths hard and fast. He relaxed slowly,
and then kissed her for a time, his lips moist and hot. Gradually he slid off,
and his arms loosened around her. His breathing slowed.

After he was
asleep, Katherine pulled away bit by bit so as not to wake him, and rose to
check on the children.

With a joy that
caught her breath in her throat as she walked down the dark corridor, she
passed her hand over her lower belly. It wasn’t definite, but she had missed
her monthly time. And deep within a primitive part of her, she knew instinctively
that it was true.

She carried
Alex’s child.

****

Alex had only
allowed Agnes in his home to pay her respects to Elizabeth. Now, her eyes wet
and reddened, she stood with Edward beside Elizabeth’s coffin.

“Edward, you
have to stop crying,” she said with a sniffle.

Edward dragged
his eyes from the coffin. He pointed to a bench against the wall. “I sat there
with her. I first kissed her on that bench.”

“Ah, Ed,” Agnes
said. “Where is your mouchoir? You need to wipe your nose.”

“I do not want
to soil it,” Edward said. ’Twas a gift from Elizabeth on Twelfth Night.”

Agnes made a
comforting sound and removed a square of white linen from her sleeve. With it
came a tiny vial, which tumbled down her black dress to the floor. The stopper
rolled off and yellow-brown liquid spilled from the vial.

Edward leaned
down to get it.

“Wintergreen,”
said Agnes. “For my headache. I mix it with my ale.”

“Doesn’t look
like wintergreen tincture,” Edward muttered thickly. “But I cannot smell it. My
nose is stopped up.” He corked what was left of the liquid and handed the vial
back to his sister. Then, he turned back to Alex. “I am sorry she is dead. I
loved her. I wanted her to be my wife.”

“Do not blame
yourself.” Alex patted Edward on his shoulder harder than he intended. He
wanted them gone, was sick of hearing Edward’s tearful confessions. The man had
not stopped crying since arriving early this morning. Agnes, thankfully, had
walked away.

“Do you need
more whiskey?” Katherine asked. “I can get some for you.”

Edward pulled a
wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket. “No. I want to be sober when I read my
poem during the burial. I wrote it last week asking her to marry me.”

Alex swallowed
and patted Edward’s shoulder again, this time with more gentleness. Edward was
hurting as much as he. He then turned to Katherine. “I could use some whiskey,”
he said tiredly. “If you are offering.”

“Of course,”
Katherine said. “I need to check on the food anyway.”

She gave him a
poignant smile, squeezed his hand, and left his side.

****

As expected, the
servants were keeping up with the fast-emptying platters of food and jugs of
ale. The new cook Katherine had hired ran the kitchen like a well-tuned
orchestra. Katherine moved on to the note that fresh barrels of ale and whiskey
had just been tapped. Townspeople and neighbors milled about eating and
drinking. She greeted several of them, then headed toward the whiskey to get
Alex his drink.

“You are pale,
Katherine. Are you well?”

Katherine turned
toward the voice. “Why, Agnes?” she asked. “Do you wish me in that coffin
instead of Elizabeth?”

Agnes lips
spread in a warm, weary smile. “Of course not,” she said, holding out a tankard
of ale for Katherine. “I brought this for you, and one for me. Can we talk?”

Katherine kept
her hands at her sides. “No. I have nothing to say to you. After we bury Elizabeth,
I never want to see you again.”

“Katherine, I
have been a horrible person,” said Agnes, lowering her gaze to the floor. “I am
so sorry for what I have done to you.”

“Truly you are.”
Katherine began to walk away.

Agnes’ voice
cracked and rose in pitch. “Please. I am falling apart. Elizabeth was my
friend, and now she is dead. My brother wants to kill himself. My father beat
me after Alexander told him that I sent you to the brothel.” Her lips trembled
and a tear slid down her cheek. “I feel so alone. My own family has forsaken me.”

Katherine tried
to put aside her intense dislike of the woman. Clearly, Agnes needed someone to
talk to. “All right. What did you want to speak to me about?”

Agnes’ gaze
darted around the vast Hall. “Can we go somewhere quiet?”

Katherine
glanced again at the food and drink. The servants were doing fine. “We can go
to the parlor. Or walk the grounds.”

“I do need some
air.” Agnes fanned herself. “Perhaps ’tis cooler outside.”

“One moment. I
need to take a drink to Alex.” Katherine directed a servant to pour whiskey,
then decided to have the servant take the glass to him. The sooner she got this
conversation with Agnes out of the way, the better.

She led the way
through the Hall and outside to the stone bench in the middle of the flower
garden. The sun in a cloudless sky poured over the green lawn. Stephen’s
excited voice reached her as he dashed with the other children through the
tidied boxwood maze.

The child’s
resilience and immediacy of the moment astounded her. Like Alex, Stephen had
grieved in his own fashion.

“How lovely,”
Agnes said as she took a seat. “I didn’t know those pink roses grew over there.
They must have been covered by weeds for years.” She handed Katherine her
tankard of ale.

“Thank you.”
Katherine took a drink and noted an off-taste. Had the ale been improperly
brewed?

Agnes chatted on
about flowers and herbs for a few minutes, telling Katherine of the variety
that Edward dried in his herbarium. Just when Katherine began to grow
impatient, Agnes said, “You need to be strong for Alexander. I have never seen
him so sad. Even when Mary died...but that was a relief, I think. Near the end,
he had to tie her wrists to her bedposts to keep her from hurting herself.”

“I know.”
Katherine sipped at her ale, now barely noting the faint bitterness over the image
of an out-of-control woman bound to the bed she herself had occupied. She
shivered, then shut out the thought, determined to get on with the conversation.

“Poor
Elizabeth,” Agnes said with a shake of her head.

Katherine
scoffed. “You truly mourn for her? You used her shamelessly to get to Alex.”

“I am over
Alexander,” Agnes said with a dismissive flick of her wrist. “Do you know that
the Earl of Rochester will court me?”

Katherine
started. “
Ellis
?”

“Yes. Mother
said she made sure of that after he—well—”

“What did he
do?” Surely he hadn’t ruined Agnes in the seconds it took Katherine to speak to
Sarah. She took a last sip, then set the tankard on the bench. She would have
to direct the servants to change the ale barrel when she returned to the Hall.

“Nothing,
really.” Agnes blushed. “Just kissed me.” She raised her tankard to her lips.

“Do not drink
that, Agnes. There’s something wrong with it.”

“Oh, no. ’Tis
fine.”

“The earl has
questionable intentions, Agnes. He is only after money. I know this because—”

Agnes’ lips, wet
with drink, curled into an ugly sneer that took Katherine aback. “You
dare
to ruin my life even more than you have? You took Alexander away from me right
at the time when he could end his mourning for his worthless wife. Now you are
trying to talk me out of a rich earl’s attentions.”

“No, I am not.”
Katherine touched her forehead in an attempt to quell the sudden dizziness
sweeping through her. “Ellis Potts wants wealth. You...do not have it. He
just...wants to....” What was she saying?

“Ellis wants
me
.
He didn’t want a hatchet-faced slattern like you.”

Katherine
flicked her gaze back and forth and tried to figure out where she was. In the
garden. Talking to...Agnes.

“Katherine, are
you all right?”

“Don’t
know...feel faint.” The blue flowers near her feet blurred into a gently
rocking sea.

“You are just
tired. Drink.”

Katherine tried
to lift the tankard. “Heavy.”

“Here, let me
help.” Agnes raised it to Katherine’s lips.

Katherine
swallowed with effort. “I will...go inside.”

“In a moment. I
am not finished talking to you.” The movement of Agnes’s arm left a trail of
shimmering black as she tossed the remains of Katherine’s ale onto a shrub.

Katherine tried
mightily to keep her eyes open. The children’s voices in the boxwood maze
echoed in a trill of fading waves. “Get Alex,” she whispered.

“No.”

“Please.”

“You should have
married the baron,” Agnes said, her voice raspy with hatred. “Then Edward would
have Elizabeth.” She gripped Katherine’s shoulders with clawed fingers. “You killed
Elizabeth by being here. And you’ve ruined everything I planned. Alexander was
meant for me, me!”

“I...what have
you done...I am with child.”

Agnes’ voice
pounded in echoing waves. “Mary always drank down all the laudanum I gave her
in her brandy. That and the mercury made her miscarry. The clodpoll believed me
when I told her it was Alex who poisoned her.” She laughed, a tinkling sound
like tiny dancing bells. “I’ve no time to make you go mad, and you are too
strong to let me push you out of a window. What I gave you will work much
faster, although most of it got spilled because of my poor brother’s sniveling.”
Her hands released Katherine’s shoulders.