True Love (32 page)

“You really should knock before you enter a
lady's room,” she said.

“Should I?” One big hand fastened on the
stone beside her head. Braedon's other hand gripped the windowsill
and Catherine was caught, caged within the spread of his arms, with
the solid wall of his chest at her back. His breath stirred a few
tendrils of loose hair that had torn free from her braids to lie
against her neck.

“Have your women left you all alone?” he
asked.

“Aldis is walking on the battlements with
Robert,” she said.

“Robert has too little work to do. I must
think of more chores for him.” Braedon's lips touched the nape of
her neck and Catherine shivered. “Where is Gwendolyn?”

“Ah, now I know the real reason why you are
here,” she said. “You came in hope of seeing Gwendolyn.”

“Promise me she isn’t lurking in the corridor
outside, or on the stairs,” he murmured, his breath warm in her
ear. He caught her earlobe in his teeth and bit gently.

“She ought to be well occupied in the
kitchen.” Catherine uttered a soft gasp when Braedon's tongue
traced a moist path from her ear to the base of her throat.

“Let us hope the charming wench stays in the
kitchen.” His words were slightly muffled against her skin.

“Do you care so much about Gwendolyn?”
Catherine let her head fall back to rest on Braedon's shoulder
while he kissed her throat.

“Gwendolyn is honest, and loyal, and much,
much too clever,” Braedon whispered, continuing to kiss Catherine's
throat and shoulders in the pauses between phrases. “Almost as
clever as her mistress. But not quite. And certainly not as
beautiful.”

“Why are we talking about Gwendolyn?”

“Because if I don't think about someone other
than you, my thoughts will be filled with you. I won't be able to
think of anyone but you. I will forget the reason why I came to
Wortham and within a moment or two, I will lay you on your bed and
we both know what will happen then.”

“Perhaps that is exactly what I want to
happen.” She turned to face him. Braedon was standing so close to
her that her breasts were pressed against his chest. He did not put
his arms around her, but kept his hands firmly fixed on the stone
window frame.

“My desire for you clouds my judgment,” he
said. “Each time I'm with you, it becomes more difficult for me to
leave. I should not be here now. I ought to be with Royce and
Cadwallon, discussing what we are going to do next. But I cannot
stay away from you.”

Catherine lifted her face. Braedon bowed his
head until his mouth was barely a breath away from hers. She was
aware of his hesitation, as if he was fighting what they both
desired. She heard him make a sound deep in his throat.

His arms swept around her at last, lifting
her up, holding her so close that she struggled to breathe, and his
mouth met hers with a fierce hardness. At once her hands were
weaving through his hair, while her lips opened eagerly to his
prodding tongue.

Still holding her against the length of his
body, Braedon started for the bed. They fell upon it together,
still locked in the same long embrace. When the kiss finally ended
they began to undress each other slowly. Braedon caressed every
inch of Catherine's body as it was revealed. She ran her hands
along his shoulders and arms, pausing when she reached the bandages
on each of his upper arms.

“Eustace could have killed you by treachery,”
she said, “but never in a fair fight, Sir l'Inconnu.” She looked
into his eyes, smiling. “I knew during the fight that it was you
meeting him. And I knew why you were pretending to be the unknown
knight. Braedon, I am so proud of you. I think your cousin Linette
would be proud, too.”

“I want to think so.” He drew back a little
to look down at her. “It was your warning cry that saved me when
Eustace would have run me through from behind, like the coward he
is. I owe you my life, Catherine.”

“As I owe mine to you, for you saved me twice
from Achard.” She touched his lips, thinking of the valiant acts
she had seen him perform during the day just ended, and of the
quiet hour beside a woodland stream, when she had observed the man
he was while in the relaxed company of his friends. Her heart was
so full that she could not speak, she could only give herself to
him in unquestioning love.

They came together slowly, tenderly, with
many lingering kisses and soft sighs, and when Braedon had made her
his completely he led her to a climax so intense, so
all-encompassing, that Catherine felt as if their very souls were
joined as one.

He stayed with her until dawn, and between
sweet bouts of love play he revealed much about the plan he and her
father had devised to entrap Achard's associates. He even named a
few names.

“I know some of those men,” Catherine said.
“Surely, not all of them are traitors.”

“Some are misguided, some merely ambitious,”
Braedon responded. “King Henry will deal fairly with all of them,
including Achard. Royce and I will have to take our prisoners to
court, to appear before the king.”

The guests began departing the next morning
and the last of them were gone from Wortham shortly after dawn on
Thursday. The only exceptions were Cadwallon, the three prisoners
hidden away in the dungeon – and Lady Edith, of course. Lady Edith
hung on Royce's every word, clung to his arm, rarely left his side,
and generally set Catherine's teeth on edge.

“I have seldom seen such devotion,” Cadwallon
said, teasing Catherine.

“If it is devotion,” she responded. “I find
it difficult to believe that my sensible father could be enamored
of so empty-headed a woman.”

“At the risk of sounding crude,” Cadwallon
said, “it's not what's inside a woman's head that interests most
men; it's the size of her dowry, which in Lady Edith's case is not
very large. But perhaps Royce doesn't care about her dowry, for
there is also the matter of a woman's personal appearance. You must
admit that Lady Edith is pretty. In spite of her silliness, she
seems to be good-natured. And Royce is of an age to find a much
younger woman attractive. I begin to wonder if you ought to
seriously consider the possibility that you may soon gain a
stepmother who is almost of an age with you,” Cadwallon ended,
looking thoughtful.

“I will not believe it until my father tells
me it is so.” Catherine's voice was so crisp that Cadwallon raised
his eyebrows and grinned at her.

Catherine told herself she wasn't jealous of
Lady Edith. She knew beyond any doubt that her father loved
her,
and she knew he had loved her mother. If he could find
happiness in his declining years, she would not stand in his way.
She just wished she could like Lady Edith. Most of all she wished
Braedon were available for her to discuss the situation with. But
Braedon was keeping out of sight for the time being. She would have
to wait until nightfall to talk to him.

During Thursday afternoon, just as quiet
descended on the castle after all the bustle of departing guests
was over, Royce announced that he was going to court. Immediately.
Without delay. In fact, he planned to leave at dawn on Friday.

“Lady Edith will accompany me,” he said,
smiling fondly at the petite woman who looked inordinately pleased
with herself while batting her eyelashes at him. “Catherine, I
leave Wortham in your hands until I return. Sir Cadwallon, will you
go with me, or are you bound for home?”

“I must go home, my lord. If I delay much
longer, my wife will most likely dump vats of boiling oil over me
as I enter the gates of my manor house. I will leave Wortham at the
same time that you do, and ride in the opposite direction.”

Later, in the privacy of the lord's chamber,
Royce explained more of his plans to Catherine, Braedon, and
Cadwallon. Catherine was surprised that she was included, though
she soon discovered why she was there.

“We won't have to ride all the way to
London,” Royce told them. “I can take advantage of King Henry's
announced intention to march into Wales as soon as the Whitsuntide
court at Westminster has ended. He's eager to meet with the Welsh
princes in hope of making peace with them, so he isn't likely to
delay starting the journey.”

“Even so,” Cadwallon interrupted Royce,
“Henry is sure to take Queen Adelicia with him, and that will mean
her ladies will go along, and all of the usual courtiers and
secretaries and the other attendants and hangers-on who follow in
the king's wake. They will surely slow his progress.”

“Just so,” Royce responded. “I am counting on
the royal party moving slowly, and on the confusion that always
accompanies Henry's travels, which will give me the opportunity to
arrange matters as I want. Henry plans to stop at Gloucester Abbey
for a few days before he continues on into Wales. We will meet him
there.”

“I know the place,” Braedon put in. “It's a
wise choice. Prisoners can be housed securely, and it should be
easy to speak in private with the king.”

“Thank you for your approval.” Royce sent a
cold look in Braedon's direction. He was not exerting himself to
display any semblance of amity toward the younger man, though
Braedon was unfailingly polite to him.

“Catherine,” Royce said, turning to her,
“this is what I want you to do.”

He gave her his orders in brief, cool
sentences that left Catherine wishing they could return to their
old, affectionate ease with each other. She was beginning to think
it would never happen, for she had learned too much about Royce's
secret activities, and about the way he sometimes used people to
fulfill his schemes. Furthermore, she was absolutely certain there
remained a large portion of her father's plans for his meeting with
the king that he had not revealed to her. Thus, she was not at all
surprised when Royce sent her away so he and Braedon and Cadwallon
could speak together in complete privacy.

What did surprise her was Braedon's absence
from her bed that night. She told herself he was most likely busy
with her father.

Royce and Lady Edith did set out the next day
as he wanted, though not at dawn. There was considerable confusion
over Lady Edith's baggage, her horses, and her maidservants, who
were to travel in a cart with all of the lady's boxes and baskets.
Then there was a minor crisis about the location of her jewel
casket. It was well after midday before the last of their troop
crossed the drawbridge.

“How patient Lord Royce is with that silly
woman,” Aldis said as she and Catherine returned to the great hall
after waving farewell to the travelers. “Left to himself, I am sure
he'd have been gone at first light, for he hates delay. He must
care deeply for her.”

“Perhaps.” Catherine shrugged off the
lingering image of Lady Edith riding beside Royce at the head of
their long procession. She had more important matters on her mind.
“Aldis, I have something to tell you. I am going to court, too, and
you may go with me if you wish.”

“I am not sure you ought to do that,” Aldis
protested. “Your father will be annoyed.”

“He knows,” Catherine told her. “I will be
acting on his orders, and I am to escort the prisoners.” She did
enjoy the look of astonishment on Aldis' face.

“What prisoners?” Aldis cried.

“The ones in the dungeon, where Achard held
me for a few hours until Braedon rescued me,” Catherine said.

“You? Held in the dungeon? Catherine, you are
teasing me.”

“Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you that we are
expecting more guests. Sir Cadwallon will be returning later today
with his friend Sir Desmond, and both of them are going to court
with us. Braedon is already here, lodged in his old room. He and
Robert will travel with us. And Gwendolyn, too.”

“I think you had better tell me everything,
and do it at once,” Aldis said, sinking onto a nearby bench.
“Obviously, I have been blind to a great deal.”

“Well, you have been somewhat preoccupied
with Robert.” Catherine couldn't resist carrying on her teasing
just a bit longer. After she seated herself next to Aldis, she
continued more soberly. “I will tell you as much as I think Father
would allow me to say if he were here. There are large parts of the
scheme that I remain ignorant of, because the men haven't informed
me of every detail. I do expect to learn more when Father and
Braedon reveal the whole story to King Henry. Father wants me there
to bear informal witness to recent events and I would like you to
be present, too.”

Though she did not mention it to Aldis,
Catherine had devised a secret plan of her own. She was going to
ask for a reward for helping her father and Braedon. She deserved
some recompense for having been seized by Achard on two occasions,
almost raped by him, and later locked in a dungeon cell. More than
that, she wanted something good to come out of her hopeless love
for Braedon. She knew her father would never allow her to marry a
landless, baseborn man like Braedon, but Catherine did not think
Royce would object to Aldis marrying Robert. The only obstacle was
that because of his poverty Robert was still a squire and was
likely to remain one unless he received some assistance.

When they were all gathered before the king,
Catherine intended to ask Royce to give Robert the acoutrements he
needed to become a knight, and to take Robert into the household at
Wortham. If Catherine could not have the man she wanted, at least
Aldis could be happy. Braedon could easily find another squire, but
Aldis, at twenty-two years of age, and with no dowry except what
Royce was willing to provide for her, was not likely to find
another love.

Nor did Catherine deny the small voice in her
heart that reminded her of Robert's close friendship with Braedon.
If Robert was at Wortham, Braedon might return to see him, and so
long as Braedon was able to visit Wortham, he and Catherine could
meet occasionally. Perhaps, all was not entirely lost....