Knight of Desire (14 page)

’Twas unlikely, however, that William would approve of a visit to the abbey any time soon.

She was startled from her thoughts by the crash of the solar door against the wall. Looking up, she was astonished to see
Edmund Forrester filling her doorway.

“There you are!” He said it as though he’d caught her someplace she should not be. “I’ve been looking for you.”

She could smell the strong wine on him from across the room.

“The servants know where I am,” she said with a calmness she did not feel. “Any one of them could have brought a message to
me.”

He did not respond to her subtle reprimand for entering the family’s private living quarters without invitation. Instead,
he stared at her in a way that made her glad for the heavy table between them.

“What is it that you need, sir?”

With the household servants all working at the gatehouse, no one would hear her if she screamed. She chided herself for letting
her imagination get away with her. She’d never felt easy with Edmund, but she had no reason to fear him.

She set down the embroidery frame she was clutching to her chest and posed her question again. “What is it that I may do for
you?”

He turned and shut the door. She jumped at the sound of the bolt sliding home. Before she could gather her wits to look for
something to use as a weapon, he pulled up a stool and sat across the table from her.

“There are any number of things you could do for me,” he said with a broad smile. “But as you are my best friend’s wife, I
will not suggest them.”

She fought the urge to wipe her damp palms on her skirts. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing how frightened
she was.

“I presume I have permission to use your given name?” he asked with false politeness.

She glared at him. “You do not.”

“
Catherine
.” He drilled his fingers on the table, quite aware, she was sure, of the effect on her taut nerves. “You made a fool of William,
claiming you could have an annulment a full week after your wedding night.”

“How dare you speak to me of this?” she said, gripping the sides of her chair. “Leave my rooms at once.”

“Everyone thought William unable to perform his husbandly duty.” Edmund leaned forward and gave her a long, penetrating look.
“But we know better, don’t we, Catherine?”

Catherine folded her arms and fumed in silence, waiting for him to have his say and leave.

“You should have seen the ladies at court!” he said, leaning back and slapping the table. “I swear, the widows gave him no
peace. Poor William developed the skills of a diplomat trying to keep the women with living husbands out of his bed.”

Edmund dropped his smile and tapped his finger on the table. “If an annulment was yet possible, the defect was not William’s.”

Despite herself, her face flushed hot.

“At first, I did not believe it possible he had not taken his rights as a husband,” Edmund said, rubbing his chin. “And yet,
it explained much. He’d been on edge and foul-tempered ever since the wedding.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “How did you convince him not to touch you? Did you claim disease?”

Catherine stood, so angry now she was shaking. Putting her hands on the table for support, she leaned across it to make her
own threat. “I shall tell my husband how you have spoken to me. I suggest you take yourself some distance from the castle
when I do.”

Edmund grabbed her wrist and held it. “Who do you think William will believe?” With his other hand, he slowly ran his finger
up the length of her forearm. “A woman who deceived her first husband and sent him to his death? Or his best friend?”

When her gaze wavered, he said, “You may as well sit, for we are not yet done with our talk.”

“If you leave marks on me,” she said, looking pointedly at where he held her wrist, “William just may believe me.”

When he released his grip, she hugged her arms to herself and sank back into her chair.

“I know he beds you now.”

Her face grew hot again as she imagined the servants whispering each night she sent her maid away. It would be easy for Edmund
to learn of it, if he had a mind to.

“Even William, tolerant as he seems to be of your antics, would not risk having all the Marches laughing at him a second time.”

She tried not to listen, tried to keep from hearing the offensive things he was saying to her. Surely he could not go on much
longer.

“How is it, then,” he said, his tone shifting from mocking amusement to accusation, “that William is even more miserable than
before?”

She was stunned. How could Edmund be asking her the very question that troubled her?

She met his eyes without flinching and pointed to the door. “I will tolerate your insolence no longer. Get out.”

Once again, he acted as though she had not spoken.

“Your husband was happy for an excuse to leave today,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Rumor of a few ragged men crossing
the border was not sufficient cause for William to lead the party himself—unless he wanted badly to be gone.”

The words stung and Edmund saw it.

“I have my suspicions as to the reason for William’s misery,” he said, watching her closely. “I wager you are as cold as stone
in bed.”

Cold?

“God’s beard, that is it!” he said, slapping the table. He shook his head and gave a short laugh. “ ’Tis not enough for William
to have a wife so beautiful that all the men lust after her. Nay, our William must have her warm and willing, too.”

Edmund leaned forward, his humor gone. “You will never make him happy,” he said, his eyes burning into her. “Leave before
it is too late, before he gets you with child. You need a better plan this time. I can help you.”

Catherine was stunned again. Edmund was sincere. In his own way, he was trying to protect his friend. But from what? From
her?

“William wants me to stay,” she stammered. “I promised him I would not leave again.”

“As if a promise matters to you!” he said, pounding the table. “William is not the first fool to trust you. Is destroying
one husband not enough for you?”

His words were so harsh she felt as if he’d slapped her. It was useless to argue Rayburn deserved neither honesty nor loyalty.

“I’ll not sit by while you bring William down,” he said, shaking a finger at her. “Know I have my eye on you. Be warned, I
will discover your secrets.”

“I have no secrets.”
At least none you will ever find out
.

Edmund barked a laugh and leaned back in his chair, his mood changing once again. “Perhaps another woman will divert him in
time. If William wants a woman who takes pleasure in bed, there are many to oblige him.”

She looked up, unable to hide the question in her eyes.

“Not yet, but he is bound to,” he said with a grim smile. “If he gets another woman with child now that he is wed to you,
he will hate himself. And he’ll not forgive you for driving him to it. William wants no bastards.”

In her mind’s eye, she saw William as he was on that first night, his eyes burning with ferocious intensity.
I want children, and I will have them only with my wife
.

She lifted her chin. “No man hopes for children outside of marriage.”

A look of surprise crossed his face, then shifted to smug satisfaction. He stood and leaned over the table.

“You do not know, do you, Catherine?” he said, a mocking smile on his face.

She glared up at him, refusing to ask what he meant.

“William has not told you who his father is, has he?”

“ ’Tis FitzAlan,” she blurted out, “is it not?”

“If William has not told you who his true father is, then he has told you nothing that matters.” He shook his head. “I feared
lust had blinded his good judgment, but I was wrong. He trusts you not at all.”

Edmund went to the door, then turned to give her his parting words. “ ’Tis an open secret who his father is,” he said. “You
must be the only one in the realm who does not know it.”

Hours later, Catherine was still angry and upset about the encounter with Edmund as she sat in the kitchen garden watching
Jamie. He was following a kitchen maid from plant to plant, asking questions as the girl gathered herbs.

How dare Edmund corner her and speak to her like that! She tried not to think about what he actually said. The hateful man.
But she could not help it. Who was William’s father? If all of England and Scotland knew, why would he keep it secret from
her?

Jamie grew bored with the herbs and hopped around pretending to be a bunny. When he tired of that, he came over and tugged
at her arm.

“Can we go up?” he said, pointing to the top of the wall. “Please?”

He wanted her to take him up to the walkway that ran along the top of the wall. Her spirits lifted at the suggestion. The
weather was glorious, and the view of the Wye River curving through the lush green hills was breathtaking from up there.

“You must promise not to let go of my hand this time,” she told him sternly. “Otherwise, I shall not take you.”

As soon as they were up on the walkway, she felt herself relax. The light breeze and the late afternoon sun felt good on her
skin. She could not remember a lovelier day.

She undid the circlet and net that held her hair and carefully set them on a low square of the crenellated wall. A married
woman was required to keep her hair covered, but there was no one to see her. The men patrolling the wall were on the far
side of the castle, near the gatehouse. William and the other men were not expected before dark.

It had been years since she felt the wind blow her hair. The sense of freedom it gave her made her want to sing with joy.

“Your hair looks pretty,” Jamie said, beaming up at her.

She lifted him up and kissed him soundly.

They walked first along the south wall, facing the river. They took their time, stopping to look at birds and watch the peasants
toiling in the fields. When they reached the west wall, the sun was low on the horizon over the hills. It cast a warm glow
on the stone walls and the fields below.

She lifted Jamie onto a low part of the wall for a better look.

“There they are!” Jamie shouted.

She squinted against the sun and saw the line of men riding toward the castle. She could pick out William, riding at the front.
As she watched, the riders veered from the path and rode across the field toward them.

Jamie waved and several of the men waved back.

What could be drawing them to this spot? As the men pulled their horses up below her, she leaned over the wall as far as she
dared. She brushed away the hair blowing across her face. Then her eyes locked with William’s. The burn of his gaze seared
through her.

Her hair! She jumped back. Without a headdress, she felt exposed, half naked. She grabbed Jamie and ran to the closest set
of steps down the wall. If she hurried, she could be inside the keep before the men rode through the gates.

A quarter hour after William saw her on the wall, Catherine arrived in the hall to greet him. Her color was high, and she
was breathless from running.

The eyes of every man were on her as she swept across the room toward him. William was too spellbound himself to chastise
his men for staring at her. As one, he and his men tried and failed to keep from staring at the rise and fall of her chest
in the close-fitting gown.

The elaborate azure headdress made her eyes look a startling blue and emphasized her long, graceful neck. Though not a lock
of hair showed, the image of her above him on the wall was seared into his mind. With her long tresses blowing about her,
she’d looked like a fairy queen sent to enchant them. He suspected every man with him imagined the pale gold waves falling
over naked shoulders and breasts.

But he was the only man who would see her like that.

“I am glad to see you home safe, husband,” she said, dipping her head in greeting.

A slow smile spread across his face as he lifted her hand to his lips. “And I am glad to be home.”

A
fter sending hot water up to William’s chamber, Catherine went to the kitchen to make certain all was in order. The cook had
everything well in hand, of course, but Catherine needed to keep busy.