Mary Reed McCall (22 page)

T
he hearth logs had burned to glowing coals before Catherine made up her mind. ’Twas well past midnight, she guessed. Hours earlier she’d sneaked a message to Heldred in the stables to relieve him of both his worrying and his waiting for her. Then she’d unbound her hair and changed from her boy’s clothing into her long chemise to curl in this chair near the fire. She’d tucked her legs to her chest, absently wiping tears that seemed to seep from her eyes without end.

’Twas high time to stop crying and get on with it.

She’d wronged Gray, of that there was no doubt. But she loved him, too, and as she’d sat stewing in her misery, she realized that in all she’d told him when he’d confronted her earlier this night, she’d never told him how she felt. It was an error she planned to remedy right now.

Grasping one of the tapers from the mantel, Catherine eased open her chamber door and stepped into the corridor. She sucked in her breath as the stinging cold of the stones assaulted her bare feet, moving quickly to keep them from going numb.

She needed to find Gray.

Should she look in the tilting yard? Nay, the lists would be soaked from the rain. Besides ’twas too late for him or anyone else to be engaged in any kind of exercise outside.

Some corner of the great hall, perhaps? She chewed her lip, pausing in her progress until the chill made her pick up her pace again. Nay, not the great hall. He’d avoid company in his current state of mind; there would be too many people to see him there and remark on his presence among them.

His solar.
Aye, his solar was the perfect place for him to be alone, though ’twas possible that by this time of night he might already be asleep. Still, she couldn’t help thinking that if he managed to fall into blissful slumber after all that had happened between them, then she would have her answer and no more need be said.

There was only one way to find out.

She made her way to the stairs, creeping down them in silence, moving even more carefully when she reached the bottom and the entrance to the great hall. She snuffed out her candle, stealing round the edge of the huge chamber to avoid rousing any of the sprawling squires, servants, retainers and knights asleep on the rushes or benches.

The rain had ceased more than an hour before,
and a thick crescent moon hung in the sky, providing enough light through the arrow slits and windows high near the vaulted ceiling to allow her shadowy view of those sleeping below. She saw no sign of Gray anywhere.

After picking her way carefully around the groups of sleepers, none of whom offered more than a snore or cough to mark her passing, she reached the corridor leading to his solar. ’Twas darker in the passageway, especially without the light of her candle. Feeling silly holding an unlit taper, she set it down. Then, straightening, she wiped her palms on her shift, breathed deep, and pushed the solar door open enough to slip inside.

A fire crackled in the grate, banishing the chill of the corridor; it drew her gaze, and a joyful shock went through her. Gray himself leaned back in a chair before the blaze, dressed only in his shirt, boots and breeches. His long legs were stretched out to the heat, and he sipped from a cup as he stared into the flames, unaware, it seemed, of her entrance.

Catherine hesitated, wondering if she wasn’t risking a beheading to startle him without warning, when suddenly he spoke.

“I see that you’ve found me.”

The sound of his voice, deep and smooth, made her jump. But then she wondered if she’d imagined its echo; Gray hadn’t shifted even a hair from his position. He continued to stare into the fire, drinking again, but otherwise moving not at all.

She took another step, and another before he turned his head and directed the full force of his gaze on her…

And then she knew that she hadn’t imagined anything.

His expression was primal in the firelight, dangerous and untamed. Catherine swallowed. Now that she stood closer, she saw that his shirt was unlaced, and as he sat up and twisted to face her, the muscles of his chest and belly rippled. He rested his forearms on his thighs, his cup gripped loosely in both hands; the firelight shone through his open shirt from behind, glowing tawny on his skin and his ebony hair.

“Welcome to my haven, lady, such as it is,” he murmured, his brow arching in time with one corner of his mouth. He lifted his cup to her in salute.

His haven from her.
The dark thought pushed its way into Catherine’s mind, shoving aside the curls of heat invoked by his stare. But she stopped herself from voicing her fears aloud, instead nodding to his hand. “What is that you’re drinking?”

“This?” He glanced at the cup. “’Tis my usual brew—would you care for some?” Then he looked at her again and understanding dawned; his expression turned almost mocking. “Ah, I see. You were wondering, perhaps, if I’d forsaken my vow of so many years ago in order to indulge in something stronger tonight.”

“Nay. I mean, I didn’t think you would, but—” she stumbled over her words, feeling awkward and stupid. Finally she clamped her lips shut and
looked away. By the Rood, what had possessed her to come here and intrude on him like this? She was a fool. Gray owed her nothing. She was naught but an imposter in his eyes. A cheat. Once her children’s safety was resolved, he would probably send her packing, with good riddance.

“I—I’m sorry to have disturbed you,” she managed to say around the lump in her throat. “I’ll leave now.” Her eyes burned and her stomach felt sick as she turned to go.

“Wait, lady.”

She stiffened but didn’t look back.

“Please, Catherine. Don’t go.”

The sound of her name uttered in his husky plea made her stop. She faced him again. His mocking look had vanished, leaving in its place the fullness of his emotions, raw pain and need, burning clear in the emerald depths of his eyes.

She took two steps toward him, uncertainty assaulting her anew. “Gray, I—”

“Why did you really come here?” he said quietly.

She stared back at him, realizing that she risked everything if she told him, but knowing that if she didn’t, she’d spend the rest of her miserable life alone, wishing she had.

She swallowed hard again, her heart pounding.

“I—I came to find you because there is something else I’ve kept from you. One more truth that you deserve to know.”

“Another truth, lady?” His gaze remained leveled on her, so cautious, so unsure, that her heart wrenched again.

She blinked, his face blurring in the flood of heat that swelled and stung in her eyes. Somehow, she managed to nod, and then the words flowed from her in a torrent. “Gray, I know that our marriage is false because of my deceit, and that it is your honor alone that has compelled you to offer your help in rescuing my children. For that I am forever grateful. But once their safety is achieved, I also know that I will—” her voice wavered under a fresh assault of pain, “I know that I will have to leave you and Ravenslock forever, and—”

Her composure was beginning to slip, but she struggled to stay strong through the rest of what she had to say. Choking back her tears, she finished, “The truth is that I love you. Through all this time, it is what has helped to keep me going, what has kept me strong.” She fisted her hands, willing them to stop trembling. “I love you, Gray, and I couldn’t leave until I’d told you.”

While she spoke, Gray closed his eyes, sitting back as if she’d struck him a mortal blow. He remained still and quiet for a few moments. Then, without opening his eyes, he said raggedly, “Nay, Catherine. I do not accept it.”

The grief that had been balled up inside of her unfurled into agony at his response. She felt it rising, suffocating her. She’d told him how she felt, exposed her innermost feelings to him, and he was rejecting her out of hand. ’Twas no less than she deserved, she knew, and yet she’d been foolish enough to hope…

She turned away from him, holding herself still
and trying to remember to breathe as she squeezed her eyes shut and let the hot flow course unhindered now down her cheeks. She had to go, had to leave this chamber. It hurt too much to look on this man she loved and know that he could never—would never—return what she felt for him.

“I do not accept what you’ve said, Catherine, because if you leave me forever, I think that I will die from the pain of it.”

Gray added this last statement hoarsely, quietly, but Catherine felt the words clear through her soul.

“What did you say?” she whispered, still facing away from him lest he dissolve before her eyes like the traces of a dream.

“I said that if you leave me, I’ll die.”

His voice was very gentle, very close to her now. In the next instant she felt his hands slide around her waist from behind, splaying warm across her stomach as he pulled her against him and rested his cheek against hers. “God, Catherine, don’t ever leave me.”

A great dam seemed to break in her then, flooding her with almost painful sweetness. She closed her eyes and leaned back, releasing a deep, shuddering breath; when his mouth brushed her neck, it sent shivers of longing through her.

“By all that is holy, Gray,” she breathed, “I never want to leave you. But I thought that I’d have to. That you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

At that he turned her around to face him, cupping her face in his palms, and the intensity—the
love—in his eyes seared her to the depths of her being.

“Don’t you know, Catherine? I want you with every breath I take.
You.
I don’t care if your name is Elise, Margery, Ann, or Jane. It matters not, because ’tis
you
that I love. Only you.”

“But I thought—”

“Hush,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over her lips. “I was angry when I learned that you’d deceived me, I’ll not deny it. And it hurt to know that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me about Montford’s plotting.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, gazing at him, aching again for the pain she’d caused him. “I wanted to tell you, but I feared Eduard’s spies, and—”

He shook his head. “I only felt so because I wanted to help you fight him, not because I thought you were going to do his bidding. I understand. You did what you believed you had to in order to protect your children from an animal who would have harmed them if he learned that you’d acted against him.”

She nodded, closing her eyes and laying her cheek against his chest. “Aye, it felt like I was living a nightmare. A horrible, terrible nightmare, from which I’d never awaken.”

“But it’s over now, or it will be, as soon as I bring the twins to safety and deliver Montford to the justice he so richly deserves,” Gray promised, holding her to him. “I swear to you, Catherine, you will never be alone again.”

“I love you so much,” she said, clinging to him just as tightly. “God in heaven, can you ever forgive me?”

“’Tis already done.”

She pulled back to meet his gaze, and he smiled, sending another rush of love coursing through her. He brushed away the wetness near her eyes. “I just needed to know that you felt the same that I did. To know that what happened between us these last months was the truth. That it was as real as I’d believed it to be.”

She smiled through her tears as he stroked his fingers across her brow and down her cheek. He slipped his hand gently behind her neck, his touch sacred to her. When he pulled her to him for a kiss, she responded with passion, reveling in the warm, salty taste of him, in the sensation of his arms around her, his heart beating firm and steady against her breast.

“Make love to me, Catherine,” he whispered, “with no more secrets, no more lies between us.”

She glided her hands up his chest and over his shoulders to tangle in his hair. “’Tis what I want, too, more than anything.”

Gray felt a surge of joy at her answer. Kissing her again, he swept her into his arms. He moved to carry her to their bed, then paused, frowning as he looked around them. “I fear that my solar isn’t well equipped for what we intend.”

The beautiful sound of her laughter, low and sweet, sent a tingle of pleasure up his neck. He looked down at her, a smile tugging his lips as well.

“We needed no bed when you brought me out into the woods,” she said.

“Aye, the leaves were better than a bed, if I recall correctly.”

“Your memory has ever astounded me,” she nodded with mock seriousness, dragging her nails lightly down his chest.

He grinned with her, then, a sensuous shudder rippling through him at her touch, driving him past the point of waiting. He wanted to have her for his own, now. To touch her, to taste her…to love her.

With a little growl, he carried her to the hearth and the thick, furred skin that lay in front of it, kneeling there to let her stretch out full before him.

Her hair spread like a fan of chestnut silk on the dark fur, tempting him to bury his hands in its fragrant abundance. Golden firelight wavered over her, swirling across her skin to create tantalizing shadows and hollows he ached to explore anew.

Leaning over, he kissed her, unlacing the top of her chemise to slip his hand inside and stroke the soft fullness of her breast. Her nipple hardened at his touch, and she moaned his name when he tugged it between his thumb and finger.

Pushing the fabric aside, he kissed her neck and across the delicate hollow near her collarbone before trailing his lips down to her breast. He paused over her delicate, pink nipple for a moment, not touching her, just letting the moist warmth of his breath tease her until she whimpered with longing and raised herself to his mouth. Then, with a low
growl, he bent his head to suckle her; she gasped with pleasure, her fingers tangling in his hair as he breathed in the sweet scent of her skin and laved his tongue over her.

“God, I love you,” he murmured against her softness, kissing her breasts again before moving back up the silken column of her neck. “So much, Catherine.”

“No more than I love you,” she whispered, arching under him. “Ah, Gray, I never want to be without you.” She stroked her hand across his bare chest as he kissed the tender spot behind her ear, smoothing her fingers over his ribs and up to his shoulders before finally guiding his lips to hers for another kiss.