Knight of Desire (39 page)

She bit her lip, trying to think how to explain it so he would understand. “The worst part with Rayburn was how helpless I
felt. It was different with Edmund. Though I was frightened, I was never powerless. I believed I could get the better of him,
and I was determined to do it.

“I am proud I was strong enough and clever enough to save myself,” she continued. “That will make it easier to get over what
happened and not be afraid.”

She let her head fall against William’s shoulder. Recounting the traumatic events of the day before had tired her. He kissed
the top of her head and held her securely in his arms.

“I’m glad you are my husband, William,” she murmured.

Only after her breathing became soft and regular against his chest did William give his reply.

“And yet, you had to save yourself.”

After a couple days of rest, Catherine resumed her routine tasks. Edmund’s attack would always be a bad memory, but she damn
well was not going to let it rule her. She enjoyed managing the castle household. It was, however, a good deal of work. And
now, every time she turned around, there was William, getting in the way and telling her to rest.

For the first day or two, it was reassuring to see him every time she looked up. But after several days, she was sure he would
drive her mad with his hovering. He was unwilling to let her out of his sight for a moment.

She came upstairs this afternoon to do her sewing just to get away from him for an hour. At the sound of the door, she dropped
her embroidery in her lap. It was William, of course.

“You do not need to keep watch over me from dawn till dusk,” she said, not even trying to keep the edge from her voice. “Go
out hunting or take the boys riding—or something!”

“I am happy to be here with you,” he answered, the soul of patience.

“Well, I am tired of it, husband,” she responded sharply, then sighed in exasperation at hearing herself sound like a shrew.
“I know you mean well, but you act as though I will fall to pieces if you relax your guard for a moment. You will not even
touch me at night.”

There, she’d said it, and she would not be sorry for it.

“I was afraid it would remind you of—” He stopped himself, and she knew he could not bear to think of what that swine Edmund
had done to her.

“I thought it too soon,” he finished lamely.

“Too soon for whom, William?” she demanded. “Is it that you cannot touch me without thinking of Edmund’s hands on me?”

She flung her embroidery on the table and stormed into her bedchamber, slamming the door behind her. He was still standing
there staring at the door when she opened it again.

“It is not good for the babe to upset me like this!” she shouted at him and slammed the door again.

Mother of God, what had he done? William sank down onto the bench, which, thankfully, was just behind him. Propping his elbows
on his knees, he ran his hands through his hair and over his face.

Should he go in to her now or leave her alone? Whichever he did was bound to be wrong.

A soft rapping at the solar door interrupted his thoughts.

“Blast it!” he said under his breath. He jerked the door open, ready to take his frustration out on whoever was there.

“Have you no sense at all?” he said, glaring down at Stephen. “Catherine could be resting!”

His tone would have put the fear of God into anyone else, but not this brother of his. He paused to take a better look at
him. Stephen was fidgeting with his clothing and shifting his feet from side to side.

This was not like Stephen.

“What is it?” he asked.

Stephen fidgeted some more until William thought he might have to shake the answer out of him.

“We have a visitor,” Stephen said at last.

“Catherine is not ready for visitors,” he replied curtly. “Send them away.” He started to shut the door but stopped when Stephen
made no move to leave.

Pinning Stephen with a hard look, he said, “What is the problem, brother?”

“I cannot send her away.”

“And why is that?” William asked through clenched teeth.

“Because the visitor is our mother.”

W
illiam grabbed Stephen’s wrist and pulled him into the solar. “What did you say?”

“Our mother is here in the hall,” Stephen said. “She says she’s come to meet your bride.”

William’s head was pounding with a sudden headache that was so bad it made his eyes hurt. His mother had never troubled herself
to visit him before. But he should have expected her. Aye, she would come now that he was a man of property and in the king’s
favor.

“I kept her waiting as long as I could,” Stephen said, “but you really must come down and see her now.”

Better to strike quickly, William told himself. He marched out the door, ready to do battle.

Because Catherine’s ear was pressed firmly to the door, she learned as soon as William did of Lady Eleanor’s arrival. The
anger and irritation that plagued her since Edmund’s attack were displaced, for the moment, by fervent curiosity. And a spark
of excitement.

Her mother-in-law was an enigma to her. Both William and Stephan painted Lady Eleanor as strong-willed, even manipulative.
But while William professed to dislike and mistrust her, Stephen had strong affection for their mother.

Catherine was inclined to think well of the lady. No matter what her failings might be, she bore two fine sons whom Catherine
loved with all her heart.

She could not wait to meet her! As soon as she heard the door close behind William, she called her maid to help her change.
The challenge was to look her best—without looking as though she had taken any special care.

She decided on a new velvet gown of a silvery blue that brought out the color of her eyes. The gown, which had just been made
to accommodate her growing size, fell over her protruding belly in soft folds from a tightly fitting bodice. Silver ribbon
trimmed the neckline, sleeves, and high waist. The headdress was of the same silvery blue, with silver mesh encasing the braids
on either side of her face.

After a last glance in her polished steel mirror, she hurried down the stairs. She paused to listen outside the entrance to
the hall to gauge the tone of the conversation.

“Your visit comes at a most inopportune time.” William’s voice was politely formal but held a hard edge.

“Stephen told me of the recent misfortunes here.” The woman’s voice was rich and low. “I am most sorry to hear of them. How
is your wife?”

Taking her cue, Catherine made her entrance.

“Lady Eleanor,” she began, but stopped before she finished her words of welcome. Putting her hand to her chest, she said instead,
“But… you are so beautiful!”

Catherine had never seen such a breathtaking woman. Lady Eleanor’s rich brown eyes, auburn hair, and creamy skin matched Stephen’s
coloring, but her features were more delicate, more feminine. The lady had to be in her midforties, but she looked ten—even
fifteen—years younger. Her close-fitting gown showed off curves that must turn heads.

Catherine realized she had spoken the words aloud and flushed as she curtsied. “ ’Tis good to meet you at last,” she said,
giving Lady Eleanor a warm smile despite her embarrassment. “I am so glad you’ve come.”

Lady Eleanor laughed and put her hands out to Catherine. “Thank you, my dear,” she said, kissing Catherine’s cheeks. “You
do make me wonder how my sons describe me.” Flicking her eyes toward William, she said, “Odious and overbearing?”

Catherine turned to look at William and Stephen. To her dismay, William stood with his arms folded, fairly seething with hostility.
And Stephen might catch fire, backed up almost into the hearth.

“I wish you congratulations on your marriage,” Lady Eleanor said. After sweeping her gaze over Catherine, she added, “And
on your upcoming blessing! I am pleased to see such a bloom of health in your cheeks. You look lovely, dear.”

“Thank you, I could not feel better.”

“I was just telling Lady Eleanor that this is not a good time for us to receive visitors,” William interrupted.

His rudeness shocked her. “I must disagree,” she said, giving him a look meant to convey her disapproval. “It could not be
a better time, with Advent here.”

“It would be a burden on you to entertain guests when you are yet recovering from your ordeal.” Dropping his gaze to her belly,
he added, “You must take care of your health.”

“Your mother will be no burden at all,” she said with a tight smile. Turning to Eleanor, she said, “Your visit will divert
me from my recent troubles. I shall enjoy having another woman for company.”

William was outmaneuvered. From the look of resignation on his face, he knew it.

If William wanted to see his wife, he could not avoid his mother. Much to his surprise, the two women appeared to enjoy each
other’s company enormously. He had to admit Eleanor’s presence had a soothing effect on Catherine. He often heard them sharing
a laugh as he passed by.

Catherine’s irritation with him, however, continued unabated. Knowing he deserved the sharp edge of her anger, he took it
without complaint. And yet, he could not understand why she became more vexed with him with each passing day. He was doing
everything he could to make her feel safe and protected.

He sent his men to remove Grey from his lands. He had not left the castle since finding Catherine limp on the bed, covered
in blood. That image would never leave him. He lived in fear someone would snatch her away again if he relaxed his vigilance
for a single moment.

Between his mother’s presence and the tension with Catherine, he was in an unrelentingly sour mood. Lack of sleep did not
help. And it was not just guilt and worry that kept him awake at night. Lord in heaven, he wanted his wife!

He wanted her with an aching need, a longing past bearing. But he did bear it. He was afraid touching her would revive her
memories of that night. Although Catherine gave broad hints she was ready to resume marital relations, he could not bring
himself to risk it.

Late one evening, he found her alone in the hall after the rest of the household had gone to bed. He was pleased to catch
her without Eleanor for once.