This Ravished Rose Page 7

  One of the maidservants had peered in earlier and seen her presumably asleep in the window seat; she could only hope no further check would be made. At the bottom of one of her satchels was an old outfit of laborer’s clothes which she had worn when she walked on the moors with Antony. Now it took only a moment to slide into them, secure her hair in a knot under the cap, and slip to the hall window. A tall spreading tree with wide branches stood close by. The house was deathly still with only the tread of the guard heard at the front. She caught the branch near her with both hands and stepped out onto the one below it. It was farther down than she had thought and her foot slipped. In panic she clutched harder than ever, holding her breath as she did so. She righted herself in a second, then moved fearfully down, sliding the last few feet to the wall. From there it was the action of a moment to climb down to the street and merge with the shadows along the wall. The guard was lax or she would never have been able to do it. Katherine breathed a silent prayer as she ran hurriedly toward the center of the city.

  York was still pulsating with noises and laughter, the camaraderie of drink, and the anxiety of imminent war. Katherine passed doxies on the arms of fuddled soldiers, men stood in knots discussing the last foray, taverns erupted with battle cries and jokes. She appeared just another lad to those who chanced to see her dart past.

  Soon she approached the tavern. The Duke’s Arms, which stood near the castle where they had been bidden to welcome Gloucester. Her plan, such as it was, relied on James’s importance. She scuttled in, cap low, peering hither and yon, looking closely at some of the drinkers to their annoyance and that of the host, who prided himself on a well-run establishment. Tonight business was good, it needed no pesky laborer thinking to cadge a drink and a meal. He hoisted his weight up, wiped his hands on his mantle and called,

  “Ho, boy, this is no place to beg. Out! Now!”

  Katherine, who had hoped to draw attention to herself by obvious searching, was disconcerted. She hesitated and Master Martin caught her by the arm. Surprised at its slenderness he turned her toward him, seeing a dirty face and great blazing eyes.

  She rushed into speech, her voice that of a young lad whose voice might be just breaking. “Sir, help me, of your kindness. I must deliver a message to this great lord from my master who has just arrived in York. I will be beaten if I do not find him. He is said to drink here but I see none of his description. I am still sore from the last beating.” The wail in her voice was not entirely feigned.

  Master Martin hesitated as he weighed her words. Something was not right but he had several pulls of his own good ale and his brain was pleasantly fogged. The lad sniveled just then, wiped his nose with a dirty sleeve and hawked inexpertly. Those at the nearest table drew back slightly, as well they might for their tankards were at the boy’s elbow. He jerked the intruder back toward the door.

  “What is this great lord’s name? Both of them? He whom you serve and he whom you seek? Come, now, be quick!”

  Katherine’s mind went blank. She could not think but simply cowered before the host who was beginning to feel something of a beast that he could inspire such fear. Then confidence flooded back, “The Lord Moran is my master. You well know his reputation, he is most powerful. I seek Lord Hunsdale. The message must be given.”

  Master Martin rallied even as she had. “Scullions are not sent with great messages. Out, I say.”

  A new voice joined in. “Leave the lad be. Who are we to meddle in the affairs of the great? Boy, lie whom you seek speaks long with Gloucester in the castle. Wait by yon gate and you will see him pass.” The speaker was a large man who pulled thirstily at his ale and cast an incurious eye at this unlikely messenger. “Martin, another of these. I’ve wasted enough time talking.”

  Katherine mumbled a hasty thanks and fled, her relief apparent in every movement of the spare body. She joined the beggars and petitioners of low rank who waited at the indicated gate. They were groggy and sleepy, too weary to ask questions or even notice the newcomer. They shivered in the cool air and waited for night.

  The girl was too nervous to try to rest while she could and real fear made her shake even as she tried to rehearse what she would do when she saw James. Finally she ceased to think and sat numbly on the cold stones, waiting.

  It was nearly dawn when a small procession emerged, James and several followers. In the smudging light she saw that he was gray under the bronzing of his skin. Heavy circles lay under his eyes but his whole body was erect, his face stem. Katherine saw only James, the rest of the world faded for her. He was yawning mightily in a release of tension that was almost palpable as she threw herself at his reins with a shriek that made the black horse rear and whinny.

  “James, for the love of God, hold! Lady Dorotea is in deadly peril!”

  He calmed the plunging horse in one easy motion, then looked furiously down at what seemed to be an urchin. Oaths spat from him, then his eye was caught by the green eyes and the urgency of her hands that caught at him and would not let go. His men circled them and one made as if to pull her away.

  “What do you here and in this garb?” He was harsh, the exhaustion more obvious now. “I do not find this amusing.”

  “Nor should you. I must speak with you, now. Alone.” The crisp words halted the coming oath.

  James looked her askance, then waved at his men. “Get you on. I know this person. There is no danger.” He dismounted and drew Katherine into the sheltering corner of wall, away from curious eyes. “What is this all about? How does my lady godmother?”

  She was grateful that he had recognized her and that he was concerned, then emotion rose to half choke her. “You must help us! There is no one else.”

  A cynical grin touched his mouth. “I understand. I dallied with one I thought to be a serving wench. I even thought of making you my mistress for a time. But somehow you worked your way into the household of my godmother and now seek to presume upon my name and rank. Doubtless you knew after our first meeting and planned all this. I assure you, I am impervious to wiles. Many have tried. Women are faithless creatures, be they high or low born.”

  Incredulity edged her voice as she cried, “How dare you think that I would approach you for such! By the Faith, your vanity will be your death!”

  James snapped, “It is done between us, wench. You lied and that is unbearable. Now why have you sought me in this garb?”

  His air of superiority braced Katherine against her hurt. She stood tall, the dusty, baggy clothes belying her pride as the green eyes flashed. The little scar near her mouth shone white.

  “I said in God’s name and for Lady Dorotea. I am no serving wench, James of Hunsdale, my lineage is as good as your own. I am Katherine Hartley, daughter of Antony Hartley. My family served the crown and the cause of York. Adverse fortunes beset us, my father died and Lady Dorotea sheltered me out of her kindness. Now she is in danger because of that kindness.”

  James stared at her, gray eyes shuttered. “Hartley was counted a traitor. I had heard there was a daughter. Why in God’s name did you not take the veil instead of running about the countryside in this unwomanly fashion?”

  “In God’s name, I could not.” Katherine rounded on him and the great tears stood in her eyes. Then her voice leveled and she was able to explain the problem, garbled though it seemed. “I am being forced to marry this Rykos, an evil and ruthless man. He has surrounded the house with his servants; however, Lady Dorotea is weak. He believes us to be alone and helpless, that she is a recluse.”

  “Rykos does indeed have great power, though few know him personally. If he means to have you then he will have you. There is likely no redress, you had best accept your fate. He cannot terrorize my godmother, however. I thought she looked very frail when I saw her. She needs rest and quiet, not this.”

  The morning light was clearer now. Katherine saw the weary lines on his face and the pallor underlying the sun-bronzed skin. Her own eyes felt gritty. She tried to fight against the panic that thr
eatened to overcome her but reason deserted her completely as she cried, “I will kill him first! I will never many Rykos!” Hard fingers bit into her arm. “Control yourself. I detest wailing women. Now listen. I will go with you to see Lady Dorotea and make my commands known. No jumped up merchant trifles with my kin. Doubtless you have hopelessly exaggerated the seriousness of the situation.”

  “At least you know your duty by your godmother,” said Katherine bitterly.

  James looked down at her and Katherine saw the old torment behind his eyes. “You are no fair fainting maiden and I no paragon of chivalry. You think of tales for the bower. I have learned of their treachery.” She watched as he turned from her to speak to two of the men who stood in a discreet clump of trees nearby. There had been such pain in Antony’s face in his unguarded moments when the despair that never wholly left him had intensified. There was an odd mixture of anger, tenderness and arrogance about James Hunsdale that made him as no other man she had ever known. He lured and repelled.

  James turned back to her and said, “Walk apart from me as though you were my servant when we draw near the house. Heaven knows what my reputation for treatment of servants will be after they see you, but this will get us by the guards Rykos has posted. Once in they will not easily dislodge me. The matter will soon be set to rights and I will see that Lady Dorotea is tended by the best physicians in the realm.” He began to walk swiftly down the street, the swirls of his cloak making black pools about his body. His men walked idly along but Katherine saw their watchful eyes.

  Katherine caught up to him. “Will you make it clear to Rykos that I serve Lady Dorotea and am not for him? He will surely heed you and she is fond of me.” James did not alter the rhythm of his movements as the words pelted her. “I will not push Rykos; he is close to the king and Edward is uneasy these days. Accept your fate with grace. You women are fools; you must wed or take the veil—What does it matter whom you wed so long as you have the furbelows and fripperies your senses demand? Rykos is wealthy and not the first old fool to become enamored of a young face.” He smiled down at her suddenly and Katherine felt her senses reel. “But I do advise you to wash it soon.”

  “You will do nothing to help me? Nothing? When it would only take a word?” Katherine felt the helpless fury rise in her. “You are a shame to the knighthood you bear.”

  His lips tightened. “I suspect that you are fully capable of dealing with whatever faces you. In fact, I rather pity Rykos for his passion. You will remember what I have said when you wallow in furs and jewels, Katherine Hartley. You should realize that Rykos is your safety since he undoubtedly knows about your father and can protect you if there is need. Have done with this!”

  He strode out rapidly and Katherine saw that all pleas would be useless before that iron resolve. To him, she was as nothing, a useless toy to be ignored. Another servant would be obtained for Lady Randle, Rykos would be appeased and in these times friends at court were very useful. She gritted her teeth angrily. Very well, he would not help her and she alone could save herself. So be it. After the horror of Rykos’ eyes and the sure knowledge of his evil, the possibility of becoming a nun was not so disturbing. With learning and manipulative skills one might rise high in her chosen order. Katherine thought of the peace of the convent she had left and suddenly longed for it.

  The morning light flooded the street with brilliance and outlined the stern face of James. Katherine steeled herself to resignation even as her pulses leaped at her nearness to the man who would not lift a finger to help her. She would see that all was well with Lady Dorotea and then she would go to the cathedral, there to claim sanctuary. The power of Rykos was as nothing beside that of the church. The burden lifted a little with decision. Katherine Hartley depended on no man!

  Chapter 9

  Darkness and Light

  “The Lady Randle has given instructions that none may enter. She is ill and her ward is recovering from the fever. When she wakens she will be told that you called.”

  The nervous guard had passed them into the antechamber of the house where an unctuous friar whom Katherine had never seen before attempted to dissuade James from his avowed intention. He cowered now as James approached.

  “I’ll not bandy words, Sir Friar. I have little respect for such as you. You are fortunate if I will not raise my sword to you. I will see her before going into battle with the Duke. None shall stop me, the boy comes as well, for I go nowhere alone.” He placed his hand on his sword hilt and fixed hard eyes on the friar. “Stand aside.”

  The friar did not so much step aside as scuttle, leaving the stairway clear. James mounted up three and four at a time with Katherine at his heels. He knocked at the heavy door but there was no reply. The girl pulled off the old cap for she did not wish to startle the lady by suddenly appearing in too strange a garb.

  A soft push at the door gave way to the room and James gasped at the sight of Lady Dorotea lying still and white on the pillows. Her breath came in shallow gasps. The skin of her face was mottled brown. Katherine knelt by the bed, whispering her name softly. The thin old lids flickered as a pale hand reached out. “Dear child, are you all right?”

  “Yes, yes. Look who has come.”

  James bent to his godmother and looked long at her. He had seen death in many guises and knew it was not far away. “Lady mine, let me summon the physician, get medicines, the best—you cannot lie here and fade from us while those ruffians downstairs seek to keep you from those who love you. Rest now. I am here. All will be well.”

  Katherine’s heart was wrung with pity and love. Love for Lady Dorotea who had sheltered and understood her, who had given great kindness to an orphan without expecting reward. Pity for James whose eyes were wet with unashamed tears. Suddenly he too sank to his knees and took Lady Dorotea’s hands in his, resting his face on them. Katherine looked at the wide shoulders which shook faintly, the tendrils of wheaten hair over his collar, the powerful brown fingers, and longed to comfort him.

  James was oblivious to her. He knew only that he was about to lose the one person who was close to him even though they had been separated for years. Incongruous things came back to him then. A merry voice chanting a bawdy song as his mother came toward them, excursions over the moor in the purple light, a matter-of-fact woman forcing him to turn back to life, the sheer delight when she saw him, and his own faith that while Dorotea Randle lived there was one person who truly loved him as he was.

  A movement from the bed startled them. Lady Dorotea had drawn herself up on the pillows in a fierce effort. Her voice was as strong and stem as it had been in her youth.

  “James, you know of our difficulties here. Katherine will have told you.”

  “Yes, but you are my concern. I must see to your well-being. Do not worry about the girl, she will not suffer from such a union. Rykos can be cozened as any other man. You say she has no prospects, what else can there be?”

  Katherine’s involuntary cry of hurt caused Lady Dorotea to start abruptly. The tired eyes went from her to James and back again, then she gathered her fading strength as the darkness swung before them all.

  “James?”

  “I am here, dearest.”

  “I have much to ask of you. I will command you if need be. As your godmother I have that right and responsibility.”

  James kissed the cold fingers with a tender gesture. “Your wish is my will.”

  Lady Dorotea smiled, “I hope so. Katherine, I have loved you dearly and I think it is returned.”

  Sobs strangled in Katherine’s throat and tears streaked her face. She pushed the damp hair back and whispered, “You know it is.”

  “Then I will ask of you both that you leave me in peace. I do not care for the pressures of the world, but only for my soul. Send a priest to me that I may make ready for departure. Do not protest. I will have no bumbling physicians nor evil tasting medications. My time is done.”

  The fierce old eyes held theirs. Silently they nodded in mutual assent.
Then James said,

  “As you have said, so will it be done.”

  “I have a command for you both.” She was breathing harder now and her lips were blue with effort.

  Katherine was driven to protest. “Please, you cannot so disturb yourself. You must rest.”

  “Silence!” The word came hard and flat. Katherine sank back on her heels and stared in amazement. “My command is this. Both of you will on this instant plight troth to each other in marriage, the vows to be rendered in no less than three days time whether I am living or dead.”

  Utter silence reigned in the close little room for a moment, then only sound was that of the dying woman’s rasping breath. Then James leaped up and caught Katherine by the shoulder, wrenching it as he turned her to face him.

  “Slut! This is your doing. You have played upon the affections of a sick woman for your own beastly ends. The merchant’s riches would not be enough for you! No! You must have a title. Mistress, I will see you in the pits of hell first. Bitch spawn!”

  He was pale with anger, the gray eyes blazing, his hands twitching with the urge to murder. His body was taut and his shoulders set.

  Katherine was as white as he, the red-brown hair seemed to burn against her skin and she seemed smaller in the ill-fitting clothes. But the anger that boiled forth was as strong as that of James.

  “Spare yourself, my lord. I would not have you for husband. You are all that is overweening pride and cruelty. Nay, you hold yourself too high. I, too, have pride and would not stoop to save myself.”

  Proud words, yet under the anger and humiliation of James’s repudiating words Katherine felt great relief. Surely there must be some alternative; Lady Dorotea but did this to test them. She was not to be forgotten.

  James began to laugh and the mocking sound filled the room.