The Raven's Revenge (9 page)

“Oh, do be careful,” she cried.

“’Twill be just a moment longer,” he called back.

They all watched as the branches dipped and swayed, signaling Nicholas’s descent. Katherine was surprised to see him hop down from the last branches with both hands free.

Katherine heard a muffled meow. “But where is my kitten?”

Nicholas laughed and held his coat open on one side. Montford’s head peeked out from the inside pocket.

“Here is your puss—safe.” Nicholas’s voice sounded husky in the cool afternoon air. He handed Montford off to Jeremy. “You take this mischief-maker and do not let go.”

Katherine swallowed. Nicholas’s part of the bargain was fulfilled. Would he kiss her now? Surely not with Jeremy and Henry present! 

“If you will excuse us?” Nicholas nodded dismissal at the two men.

Jeremy scowled as Henry took his free arm and drew the boy toward the horses. Katherine saw him turn his head twice to send her an inquiring look. Both times, she shook her head slightly. She would not go back on her word.

Nicholas’s sense of triumph faded as he wrapped an arm around Katherine’s trembling shoulders and led her to a fallen tree branch behind a copse. For a moment, he was sorry that a small dalliance such as this could cause her so much consternation.

But he had to go through with it. It was the only way he could think of to rid himself of the fantasy Katherine.

He looked her over. She could not be more different from the Katherine of his vision. Alarm filled her eyes. Her lips were drawn into a hard line and her cheeks, instead of being rosy, were wan. Her breath came out in little puffs. He hoped she wouldn’t swoon.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“Yes.” Her voice was almost a whisper. “Can we get it over with?” Her words echoed his thoughts, yet the pleading he saw in her eyes just before she clamped them shut, did not.

“No, lass.” He put a hand to each cheek. “Open your eyes. Look at me now.”

Katherine cracked them open. 

He searched their depths for that other Katherine, but saw naught reflected back. Her cheeks felt like fine porcelain under his hands. As his mouth hovered over hers, she let out a whimper.

Should he stop? But that would not vanquish the dream Katherine. No, he must prove to his errant body she did not exist. Then she would cease to haunt his waking hours, and allow him a peaceful rest this night. It was just a kiss after all. No great matter.

He gently rubbed his thumbs across her cheekbones until she relaxed, just a bit. Again, his mouth began the descent toward hers. This time she did not whimper. Nor did he stop.

Her lips were cold. Nicholas plied them gently, yet they did not yield sweetness.

The frustration of the ride today and the night before welled up in him like a rising tide. Nicholas redoubled his efforts. His hands slid behind her head to hold it against the onslaught of his mouth, but instead of the silken masses of hair he’d imagined, he felt only the fine fabric of her cap. He yanked the strings of her bonnet free where it fastened beneath her chin and cast it away, smothering her surprised gasp with his mouth. One by one, he plucked the pins from her hair and tossed them into the copse.

Her hair fell over his hands like a mantle. The scent of lavender wafted about him. And then he felt a tiny, almost imperceptible, spark of response.

With renewed vigor, he tugged her bottom lip, then the top one with his teeth. Running a hand through her luxuriant mass of hair, he suckled each lip in turn. He coaxed her mouth open and ran his tongue over the silken interior.

Katherine melted into his arms. She touched his face, running a finger along his cheek to his eyebrow and into his hair. Shivers coursed through him. Her velvety tongue probed his mouth in a tentative response that sent his blood pounding. Nicholas groaned.

Wrenching his lips from hers, he gazed deep into her eyes…

The eyes of that
other
Katherine.

CHAPTER SIX

JUST PAST NIGHTFALL, the four travelers dragged into the stable yard of the
Crown and Crowe
in Salisbury. A hostler came forward to claim their mounts.

Katherine slid wearily off the horse into Nicholas’s waiting arms. He held her for a long moment in the soft moonlight, his expression unreadable, then put her from him. Neither broke the awkward silence that had stayed between them since the kiss.

More than anything, Katherine wanted to be alone, without Nicholas’s compelling presence, without his arms around her, his scent enveloping her. A bath to ease the stiffness in her muscles would be nice, she thought, hobbling toward the welcoming shafts of light that beamed through the windows.

As she stepped into the common room, the warmth from a large fireplace rushed up to greet her. The crowd seemed congenial, not too boisterous. The luscious aroma of cooking food beckoned her hungry stomach.

“Welcome, welcome,” the innkeeper cried as he hastened to them.

“A private room for the night,” said Nicholas without ado. “My wife tires,” he squeezed Katherine’s forearm. Though smiling, his eyes forbade contradiction. “We require a meal sent up, and I would pay well for the speedy delivery of a hot bath.”

“Of course,” the innkeeper responded. “Cassie!” A round, merry-looking woman bustled up.

Wife?
Katherine did not wish to spend this night with him. As much as she wanted a bath, she would not bathe in his presence, or suffer his bathing in hers. It was not right. As soon as the woman left, she’d tell him so.

Cassie led them up a flight of stairs, down a short hallway to a small, but comfortable room. She tilted her candle flame to the wick of a lamp. The growing light cheered the room, as did the fire the woman kindled in the hearth. Montford jumped out of Katherine’s arms and bounced off to search the corners and under the quilted bed.

“The bath will be up soon. Ye look tired,” she looked kindly at Katherine. “I’ll send a sack-posset up w’yer meal. ’Twill help ye sleep well this night.” Then she left, closing the door behind her. Katherine was alone with Nicholas.

“Wife?” she said sharply.

He pulled off his hat and walked toward her, managing to look apologetic and predatory at the same time. “It was the only way.”

Katherine took a step back. “I thought I was your sister, or your cousin.” She was unable to control the trembling in her voice. “I’ll not stay here with you. ’Tis not right.”

“We have no choice, lass. You cannot stay in a room by yourself. ’Tis too dangerous. You haven’t a maidservant to attend you. If ’tis thought we are married you will come to no harm.”

“I have entrusted my safety to you, Nicholas. Not my reason.” She raised a finger to her lips. She did not trust him—or his kisses. Katherine frowned as a new thought came to her. “Do you have a wife?”

He looked at her as if puzzled by the question. “No.”

“Good.” Katherine nodded. She knew so little about him. This lack of knowledge hadn’t prevented her from asking his help. But now, it bothered her.

“If you had a wife how would you treat her? Would you demand her obedience?”

“I would expect her to comply with my wishes,” Nicholas frowned. He shook his head. “I do not see—“

“Would you beat her if she did not do as you say?”

“Katherine, I have not thought to have a wife. I have no use for one. I have no wish for one.”

Katherine sighed. “I have always thought to have a husband, whether I wished one or no.” She looked directly at him. “And it seems this is no different. But you are not my husband, Nicholas. You will spend this night on the floor.”

“I look forward to it,” Nicholas answered dryly.

“And you will leave while I bathe.”

“’Twas always my intention.” He nodded and put on his hat. “I ordered the bath for you. I shall wash with Henry.”

“Oh,” she said feeling foolish for having thought otherwise.

Turning to the fire, he added a bit more kindling, and prodded it with the poker. Finally, a rap on the door announced the arrival of the bath. Ushering the servants in, he supervised the placement of the tub, and followed them out.

Katherine experienced a wave of relief as she shut the door and latched it behind him. She took off her dusty cloak, shoes, and stockings. Letting out a long sigh, she wriggled her bare toes on the cold wood floor.

Montford jumped out from under the bed and attacked. Rolling onto her back, the kitten bit and kicked Katherine’s foot while she jiggled it.

“Ouch!” She pulled her foot away when a sharp tooth bit into her ankle. “That’s enough, puss.”

Divesting herself of her clothing, even the Chinese coin on its green ribbon, Katherine walked naked to the tub and eased herself into the hot steamy water. The innkeeper’s wife had provided a new bar of Castile soap. Wistfully, Katherine thought of the lavender soap back at Ashfield, made just this autumn, each bar wrapped and stored away.

She splashed her face with hot water. There was no going back, so there would be no looking back.
 

Submerging to her chin, Katherine closed her eyes. The hot water soothed her aching muscles and lulled the tension from her mind. She drifted on the visions she’d seen earlier that day of the countryside: farmers working in the fields, sheep grazing, the small thatched cottages they had passed. But then the image of Nicholas’s face appeared before her, his eyes searching hers and his lips moving closer, closer…

Katherine opened her eyes and sat up sending a wave of water sloshing onto the floor. She took a guilty look around the room, but there was no one to see her discomfiture, no one to be aware of her thoughts. She was still alone but for Montford, who now slept on the center of the bed.

Resolving to set her mind on other things, she picked up the bar of soap, dunked it in the water, and worked up a lather with her hands. But soon, massaging the soap through her hair made her think of
his
hands running through her hair, soaping her arms brought to mind
his
hand on her arm as he’d steered her up the stairs. Everywhere she washed, she could feel his hands upon her, a strange, unsettling, yet pleasant sensation. She watched her nipples grow into firm pebbles, saw the soap trail down the valley between her breasts—breasts that had become sensitive when he’d kissed her.

A surge of heat ran through her. Never had she imagined a kiss to be that way. She’d melted like winter snow in the spring sun. If he hadn’t stopped, she was sure she’d have become a puddle at his feet.

Disconcerted, Katherine dunked under the water, rinsing the lather from her arms and breasts with brusque, almost harsh, motions.

Leaning back against the side of the tub, she sighed. This bath was not bringing the calm she needed. She lifted a leg out of the water, ran the soap from her toes to the top of her thigh, and then repeated on the other side. That left the place where her legs joined. Her woman’s place. Another rush of warmth coursed through her. That place had felt his kiss as well. He had made her ache, as if she were coming down with the ague.

That must be it, she thought, lowering herself back into the water. Nicholas gave her a fever. Maybe she needed a dose of comfrey and willow bark tea.

Or to kiss him again.

Katherine immersed her face in the water and scrubbed her skin, getting just enough soap into her eyes to burn, as if to punish herself for such wayward thoughts.

She rinsed her hair and shivered. The water had cooled. She must be well done with her bath and dressed when Nicholas returned, and have her thoughts under control as well.

Katherine rose from the tub and dried herself, not minding at all when the coarse towel abraded her tender skin. Taking a wrinkled but clean gown from a satchel, she dressed without her stays and petticoats, knowing she would sleep in what she wore.

After a brief search through her other bag, Katherine found her comb. Pulling a stool before the fire, determined to cast her mind from Nicholas, she tried to remember her Latin verbs and combed her hair until all the knots were gone.

* * *

Downstairs in the common room, Nicholas sat across from Jeremy at a rough wooden table not far from the fire. The atmosphere between them bristled with tension. Impatient to be done with a necessary ploy, Nicholas spoke overloud. “Now, lad, which road d’ye think will be the best to take us to Portsmouth?” He gave the boy a broad wink.

“Portsmouth?” Jeremy looked up, startled. “But I tho—ow!!” He shot an angry look at Nicholas and reached down to rub his shin. “Ye did not have to kick me!”

“Shhh,” Nicholas hissed. “We want them to think ’tis where we’re going in case we’re asked about.”

“Oh,” Jeremy looked down, a hot red tinge flushing his ears. “I shoulda thought o’ that.”

Nicholas said louder, “It seems we should go by Alderbury. Or d’ye think the Bodenham road would be better?”

Jeremy cleared his throat and spoke, eyes looking daggers at Nicholas. “I reckon ‘twould be best to take the Bodenham road.”

“No ‘twon’t,” a gruff voice from the next table cut in. “The Bodenham road runs a mite longer, by tak’n ye through Downton and Bramshaw.” The man took a long draught on his ale, letting a dribble run down his chin. “Take the Alderbury road, ’twill get ye there sooner.”

“True enough, Tom, unless it rains tonight,” said another voice from the same table. “Me bunions are telling me ’twill rain something fierce. When that happens the Alderbury road washes out and ye canna take it. Then ye’d have to go by Bodenham instead.”

Nicholas looked over the rough-clad workers and nodded. “My thanks for the information.”

Turning back to his table, he flashed Jeremy an apologetic glance. He hoped he’d not done serious damage to the young man’s leg. He should have given him an idea of what he was doing, but he’d not been thinking properly since kissing Katherine. It was the curse of a woman to muddle a man’s mind, but who would have ever thought this plain Puritan would ignite such a passion in his loins? Nicholas scowled, adjusting himself on the bench. It was becoming very clear that he would need to be rid of her soon. He should be ransoming her back to her father instead of kissing her in the woods.