The Raven's Revenge (21 page)

If his other crimes against the lass had not been enough, by taking her maidenhead he had ruined her. And he now had no leverage over her father, since he could no longer return her intact. And, in dishonoring her, he had dishonored the pledge he’d made to his father.

Voices in the hallway abruptly penetrated his thoughts. He heard the low rumble of a man’s voice accompanied by the higher pitch of woman’s laughter. Would they try to enter this room? He tensed, arms tightening around Katherine, aware that discovery would not only expose his identity but compromise her as well. Then a door down the hallway opened and closed and all was quiet again.

Katherine turned in his arms, lips pursed, a frown marring her lovely forehead. “What of Jeremy?”

“Ah, my wanton, now you remember your friend,” Nicholas could not keep himself from teasing, then at the look of utter consternation that swept her brow, he added hastily, “Henry has gone to get him.”

“Montford?”

“I must have left her in the coach. Henry will bring her back.”

“Tis remiss of me to forget them,” Katherine shook her head. “I have paid attention to naught but you.” She looked around the large room, taking in the stately bed at one end, and a roaring fire before them. There were several nice pieces of furniture. “Are we at an inn? It does not look like one. I had not thought to ask.”

“No,” he replied, brushing a thumb over her brow. “’Tis the estate of an acquaintance. Perhaps you can see some of it in the morning,”
when the other guests are all sleeping
. “’Tis safe here, to be sure.”
For you.

He massaged her neck and the back of her shoulders and she dozed off. Time stretched on with only an occasional pop from the fire. It would have been perfect were it not for the troubling thoughts that kept him awake, bubbling up as if from some witch’s cauldron in his mind. Or perhaps it was the embers of a conscience finally sparked into existence.

No doubt Henry would think so.

* * *

Katherine stirred. Montford had joined her sometime during the night and lay on her chest, purring. Katherine hung for a bit in that delicious between-place, not asleep or awake; a languid sensual creature enjoying the comfort of a good feather bed, the warmth of a down coverlet, the lingering smell of a man.

Nicholas
.

The sudden vivid recollection of the night brought a flash of heat surging from the ends of her toes to the very roots of her hair. All at once, she realized she lay naked. And alone.

Flooded with equal parts of relief and dismay, Katherine opened her eyes to take greater stock of her surroundings. Last night she had paid them little mind.

Katherine sat up. Throwing Montford off her chest and hugging the coverlet, she peered through the dimness at the large bedroom. A chest sat along the opposite wall. Dying embers of a fire burned in the large fireplace.

The ruins of her clothing lay discarded on the floor. At some point during the night—she could hardly remember when—Nicholas had divested the remnants of her clothes and helped her onto the lush mattress. She’d sunk into a deep sleep, so deep she had not heard him leave. Nor heard Montford and her satchels arrive.

Katherine slid from the bed. She padded cross the soft wool rug to the draped window. Tugging back a corner of the dark velvet, she peered through the glass. The sun beamed brightly on the outside tableaux. Any vestiges of the night’s rain had burned off.      

A well-groomed garden stretched out in a long vista. Here and there a gardener stooped, a spot of brown against the variegated greens. At the end of a long row of topiary chess pieces, sat a large fountain. Water cascaded in ribbons from what looked like a giant sea creature, maybe a dolphin such as she had read about.

Suddenly aware she was naked, Katherine stepped away from the glass.

She donned her shift. The clothing Nicholas had given her was ruined, so she dug the horrid black dress out of her bag, put it on, and finger-combed her hair. With no pins or cap it hung loose to her waist, undoubtedly making her look like a young girl.
 

The thought brought her up short. Heat flooded through her. She was a woman now. A tenderness between her legs and traces of blood on her thighs testified to her loss of childhood. A smile played upon her lips. Would any part of her be the same? Somehow she doubted that.

Montford started scratching at the floor.

“No puss, not here.”
 

Katherine pulled her shoes on over her stockings. She grabbed up the kitten and walked to the door. Taking a deep breath, not knowing what she would find on the other side of this portal, but knowing she had no choice but to find out, she opened the door.

An empty hallway greeted her.
 

Katherine exhaled with relief. Giving Montford a pat and cradling her to her chest, Katherine started down the hall toward what appeared to be a staircase landing.
 

All of a sudden, Montford growled, stuck her claws into Katherine’s chest and jumped atop a tall cabinet. At the same time, Katherine heard the riotous sounds of dogs barking. The commotion got louder and then they were there—six spaniels running and jumping. A tall man who looked a bit like Nicholas followed them. She had a quick impression of a dark complexion lightened by sparkling eyes, and plentiful shining black hair that curled into great rings. He looked at her with perhaps as much surprise and stupefaction as she looked at him.
 

And then Montford vaulted over them all and shot down the stairs. Katherine tore after her, with the barking spaniels and the unfortunate man behind.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

NICHOLAS HUNTED a maze of corridors, peering into chamber after chamber, each devoted to some trifling domestic activity. Startled servants made a hasty bow or curtsy as he passed. Finally, he found Katherine in what he guessed, from the drying plants that hung from the ceiling, was the stillroom.

He stood in the doorway, an observer unobserved. Jeremy lay on a pallet stretched before a fire with Katherine beside him, his hand clasped between hers. A hot flair of jealousy ripped through Nicholas but he stayed quiet, unwilling for them to notice him until he had his emotions under control.

Katherine’s face was away from him. He wanted to see her expression, especially her mouth. Would it look soft and well kissed from last night, or would she be nibbling her lower lip in that adorable way of hers?

The conspiratorial hush of their voices disturbed him. What could they be saying to each other?

In the dim light of morning, he’d risen in haste, urgently aware of the need to be on the road before the household awoke. He’d been gone but a few moments to bid Henry prepare their departure and returned to an empty room. His heart had plunged clear to the bottom of his boots, and his first thought had been she’d run off again. But then he’d seen her bundles and been reassured on the one hand. On the other hand, what he’d heard from a servant had not been reassuring.

The man told him of the Puritan and her cat who had been run off by the King and his spaniels.

The vision this conjured in his mind should have been quite comical, yet this morning he could not even smile at it. All he could think was he’d missed detection by a hair’s breadth. Running into the King would be disastrous, putting him in the awkward position of having to beg Charles’s forgiveness and explain his absence now, instead of later in London after he had come up with a good story. Nor did he want to think of Katherine discovering his duplicity.

Nicholas took a deep breath and let it out. Suppose they did get away undetected, and then to London…what was he to do with her? Would she be safe from Finch at this cousin’s home?

And why did he not want to think of sending her off at all?

Nicholas made an impatient shrug. What good would it do to think ahead? Experience had taught him to focus on the present, to seize the opportunity each moment brought. Right now he needed to get Katherine away from Lydney Hall. 

He cleared his throat and stepped into the room. “’Tis a most charming reunion but it must conclude. We must be off, Katherine.”

Katherine and Jeremy looked at him in surprise. A flush ran across Katherine’s face before she turned away. The black dress covered her trim figure, disguising it. Perhaps it was not such a bad garment after all.

Her hair hung straight down. Still tousled from sleep it made her appear very young. But when she turned back, he saw the determination on her brow and the stern brilliance of her eyes. This was the Katherine he knew.

“But Nicholas,” she protested. “Jeremy cannot travel until he is healed.”

“Then he must stay.” Nicholas said. “Henry will bring him along when he is well. You and I must hasten before Finch would find us.”

Katherine bit her lower lip.

He had not meant to frighten the lass, merely set her to moving, so he tempered his next words. “After the events of last night, I think he will look the more.”

This time Katherine blushed, and he realized she had mistaken his meaning. “He will be looking for both of us now.”

Jeremy looked from one to the other. “I am able to travel,” he said, but he grimaced when he attempted to sit up. His left eye was black and blue, and his upper lip puffed out. A length of linen bound his chest, no doubt Katherine’s work. In truth, he looked awful.

“’Tis clear the boy cannot sit.”

“In a coach, with pillows to cushion the ride, he will be all right,” said Katherine.

Nicholas met her fierce protective gaze, and knew it was this quality in Katherine that had saved his life. During his years in the East, he had come to understand the barbaric nature of English medical treatments. Had he been subjected to bleeding, clysters, purging and the like, he easily could have died. He owed his life not only to her conscientious treatment, but to her good sense as well.

Did the boy need her healing magic? Suppose Nicholas took her away, and Jeremy worsened?

A coach
would
speed up the journey. Once on main roads they could even reach London by nightfall.

“Aright, lass. You have convinced me. I will arrange for a driver and have Henry prepare the coach, for it will need a bit of black paint on the doors to hide the crest. Then we will be on our way.” Nicholas approached Katherine and held his hand out to her.

Katherine gave him a brilliant smile, and slid her hand into his. Reassuring warmth banished the last threads of jealousy and irritation, and Nicholas smiled back. He tightened his grasp and helped her rise, not relinquishing her hand once she was up.

“There is a pretty garden I saw from a window,” she said. “I would very much like to see it before we leave. And Montford requires a visit out of doors as well.”

As much as he wished it, he could not forbid her to go. It was unlikely she would run into anyone but gardeners outside at this hour. Still, one could never be sure. “Do not speak to strangers,” Nicholas admonished giving her fingers a last squeeze before letting go. “I will join you there in a moment.”

Katherine nodded and watched him leave. After her encounter with Finch, she appreciated Nicholas’s protective attitude more than she had before. She plucked Montford off Jeremy’s lap, bid her friend rest until it was time to leave, and exited through a side door.

As she explored the gardens, the crisp morning air caressed her skin, banishing the heat of the stillroom. Sunlight played upon the dew, turning the droplets to diamonds scattered on a field of grass.

Montford stalked a butterfly.

A gardener, trimming an already neatly manicured hedge, tipped his hat to her as she walked by.

Thoughts of danger seemed out of place in such well-tended surroundings. However unlikely it was that Finch would jump out at her from behind a perfectly pruned tree, it was nerve-wracking to think he could be nearby. Prickles ran along the back of her neck as she sensed someone watching her. Katherine glanced about. A flicker of something moved inside a second story window. A mild rush of alarm ran through her.

What had become of Finch and Jakes? Had they managed to get a ride from a passing carriage? Had they found shelter and clothing nearby, or were they now running naked about the countryside, hiding from every rider and coach that passed them? A giggle rose in her throat.

She arrived at the magnificent fountain. The sound of falling water helped soothe her mind and ease her anxiety. Small orange fish flitted through the water. And there, reflected on the surface of the pool, was a Katherine she’d not seen before. The undulating ripples of water lent her a fluid, dreamy look. She appeared softer, even pretty. Katherine smiled at her likeness and it smiled back.

Montford rubbed against her ankles.

Katherine picked up the kitten and placed her on the rim of the pool where she hunched down and watched the fish, her tail switching back and forth. Finally, as a fish swam too close to the surface, Montford plunged a paw into the water and jumped back shaking it off. Clearly mortified, she commenced cleaning.

Katherine laughed.

A hand clutched her shoulder from behind.

She screamed and whirled around, arms raised to ward off her attacker.

And all at once, she fell into Nicholas’s strong embrace.

“Whoa, Katherine,” he said, his low resonant voice easing her panic and coming to rest inside her heart.

She threw her arms around his neck and held him tight, her head nuzzling his chest.

He rubbed her back in a comforting manner, but then his hand drifted lower and he pulled her to him. The fright that had coursed through her turned to excitement. Her breath caught as she turned her head up to meet lips that she knew by instinct would be searching for hers.

Their mouths met in a slow sensual joining, a dance of meeting and parting, then tongues together. Katherine lost awareness of all but Nicholas, his fire, his strength. He smelled of exotic spices and tasted like coffee. She melted into him, the ache of pleasure starting at her core.

As Nicholas pulled his lips away, Katherine moaned.

His hand eased from behind her head, moving across her cheek. His forefinger traced her lips in a reverent, tender, and utterly sensual caress.