But she nodded and stepped away from him.
“I think I see it.” She pointed in the correct direction. “That one seems to burn a bit brighter than the others, and it could possibly look like the end of a ladle with a bent handle. There.”
“Right.” Nicholas nodded. “Over there is Ursa Major.” He outlined its shape with a finger.
“Big bear,” she translated. “I see that. ’Tis also a ladle. They should have called it Big Ladle. There is clearly no bear.”
“To the Ancients there was. In their mythology the big bear was Callisto, a woman loved by Jupiter. He transformed her into a bear to protect her from his jealous wife.”
“That isn’t a proper story at all,” Katherine declared.
“Why is that?”
“’Tis not right for Jupiter to love a woman besides his wife. And, if he did love her, why did he make her into a bear?”
“Because he wanted to,” Nicholas retorted. How could he impress her with his knowledge if she asked him ridiculous questions like that? He’d never even thought about it. He took a calming breath. “Over there is Cassiopeia.” He pointed at another place in the sky. “See? It looks like a ‘W’.”
“Was she also a friend of Jupiter?” Katherine asked suspiciously.
“No.” Nicholas almost barked. He tried to relax. “She was the Queen of Ethiopia, and once claimed her daughter, Andromeda, to be more beautiful than a sea-goddess.” He looked over at Katherine, her face tilted to the heavens. The moonlight made her skin alabaster. He could not stop himself from reaching a finger to run along her cheekbone. Instead of being hard and cold like marble, it was warm and soft. Like a woman.
She shivered, whether from the cold or his touch, he could not tell. But she did not move away from him.
“This made the sea-goddess very angry, so a sea-monster was sent to terrorize the people of Ethiopia and lay waste to the country. To save the land Cassiopeia had to give her daughter to the monster.” He rested his hand back on Katherine’s shoulder and gazed into her eyes, eyes that appeared dark, mysterious, and liquid.
Katherine swallowed visibly. “But what happened to Andromeda?”
“Cepheus, her father, chained her to a rock. There she was found and saved by Perseus, who killed the monster and obtained her as his wife.”
“That is a much better story,” she said. “Perseus was a gallant hero who saved her from an awful fate. I’m sure she had no objection to marrying him.”
Nicholas dropped his hands. If Katherine was looking for a hero—or a husband—then she need look elsewhere. He was not her champion, and he did not like the direction this conversation was taking. He needed to finish making his point, and then be done with her.
“See how easy it will be to follow the stars?” He turned so the North Star was over his left shoulder and pointed ahead. “We will go that way to London.”
She opened her mouth.
He continued on before she had a chance to speak. “Now I suggest you go in and prepare yourself for sleep. I will join you after I check on Henry. Do not take long.”
Katherine snapped her mouth shut, surprised by his abrupt change of topic. She nodded, and without checking to see if he came with her, she scurried from the courtyard, picking up Montford’s basket on her way.
Inside their room, Katherine panicked. If she did not hurry, Nicholas might enter and find her undressed. Tossing her cloak on a chair, Katherine put down the basket and opened it.
Montford jumped free, leapt onto the black garment, and began to wash.
What had come over her? She had almost let him kiss her! Her fingers remembered the feel of his brocaded waistcoat and linen shirt as she’d grasped them. Katherine’s heart pounded and she felt herself flush. In that moment, she had forgotten how disturbed she was that he’d led them astray. She had wanted to stay angry with him, yet in that moment he had changed her heart. How frustrating!
Katherine pulled off her petticoat and skirt, but no matter how she craned her arms behind her back, she could not manage to loosen the ties to the bodice. Without Nicholas’s deft fingers, she could not get it off. But his help was out of the question. And if she did not ask his aid tonight, she would not need it again in the morning. So, she would just have to sleep in the dress. Vexed by the bodice and vexed by Nicholas, Katherine laid down on the straw mattress sure that sleep would not come easily.
* * *
It must have been several hours later. Katherine had fallen into troubled dreams of being pursued and running, running, running.
She woke up with a pounding heart, gasping for air. Her first realization, that she was not in her bedroom at Ashfield, was replaced almost immediately with the awareness of where she was when she saw Nicholas’s large form stretched out before a fire burnt to embers. Then, the noise that must have wakened her repeated—a frightening sound.
Katherine could only remember hearing the like when she’d tended a woman in the throes of childbirth. Groans accompanied a rhythmic pounding that shook the wall behind her.
She must help.
Katherine jumped from the bed. Grabbing the satchel that contained her medical journals and carefully wrapped packets of herbs, she hurried to the door. The sounds grew louder, more insistent.
As she stepped into the hallway, a hand clamped onto her wrist.
CHAPTER NINE
NICHOLAS STOOD in the open doorway, his stance faintly menacing. His hair hung loose, his shirt open. Katherine could not see his eyes.
“There is a lady taken ill.” She wiggled her wrist but he did not let go. A heart-wrenching groan emanated from the next room increasing Katherine’s sense of urgency. “I must help her.”
“The lady, if she is one, is not ill, Katherine.” Nicholas’s voice was rough with sleep and touched by a vein of impatience. “She would not welcome your interference now, believe me.”
He pulled her back into the room and shut the door.
The wall shook in rhythm with the groans and pounding from the next room. As the noises grew louder and the woman’s cries more urgent, Nicholas’s eyes held hers.
Katherine tried, but she could not look away from his strong gaze. A blush rose across her cheeks, as excitement ran through her. Her breath came in gasps as the sounds reached a stunning crescendo, wrenching a small cry from her. Then everything ceased. Katherine shuddered. She stood in the heavy silence, still unable to take her eyes from Nicholas.
He pulled her to him. His chest grazed the front of her bodice. Her breasts tingled. His hand came to rest on the small of her back.
The satchel dropped with a clunk. Her hand rose, but instead of holding him off, it lay on his chest. Through the linen of his shirt, she felt the heat of him, the hairs on his chest, the rigid nub of a nipple, the steady beat of his heart.
Her head fell back, and she could see his eyes reflect the embers in the grate.
“They were mating, Katherine.” His voice carried a thickness and urgency she’d not heard before.
She slowly shook her head.
“The most pleasant thing a man and woman can do together.”
He released her wrist, and she drew back a step. “’Twas not the agony of pain you heard, but the agony of pleasure.” He broke their gaze, and went to the fire. Katherine watched the sinewy movement of his well-muscled legs as he squatted down to tend it.
Mating.
A country girl, she had seen animals mate—rabbits, dogs, even horses; the male behind the female, growling and grunting in an almost violent display of lust. Once passing the stables, she had seen a hobbled mare screaming as a big stallion mounted her.
The most pleasant thing a man and a woman can do together.
With a shuddering breath, she shook her head. What he said was wrong. Men took their pleasure at the expense of women.
She narrowed her eyes and watched Nicholas as he added kindling to the fire, seeing him as the stallion. The image brought a sudden heat to her, and she looked away.
Yet, that did explain why her body had ached when he’d kissed her behind the copse. And why she felt taut as a bowstring remembering it.
Over the crackling of the newly kindled fire, she could hear the gentle tinkle of feminine laughter interspersed with the low rumbling of a man’s voice, coming from the next room. The woman
did
sound happy.
Nicholas rose and turned in one smooth movement. Her breath caught. He pinned her with his eyes and advanced in her direction.
Katherine swallowed, feeling as helpless as the mare held by ropes. “It cannot be true,” she whispered. “What happens between men and women is for making babes, which women bring forth in great pain. ’Tis no pleasure in it.”
“What you say of birthing is true, but mating does not always make a babe.” He gave her a knowing look. “Not if one is careful.”
She looked at him, surprised.
“And if it is done right, it can bring great pleasure to a woman.” He stepped closer and before she knew what was happening, he had loosed the strings of her cap, pulled it from her head, and tossed it into the flame.
Her hair slowly unfurled and descended in an avalanche. The weight of it hit her shoulders. A tender ache ran across her scalp. She put a hand to where her cap had been, and watched in disbelief as the fire consumed her headpiece.
Looking up, she saw a challenge in Nicholas’s eyes. He took her shoulders in his strong hands, and slowly drew her to him.
She thought to push him away, but instead her fingers grasped his shirt.
His mouth swooped down, and his lips captured hers. As his arms wrapped around her, she melted into him.
A fierce heat rose up in her. Her hand moved up his chest and over his collarbone to his corded neck where she could feel the strong beat of his pulse.
His tongue teased her lips for entry. She felt a momentary quaver, a sense of alarm, at the knowledge that in his arms she lost all control. Then her mouth opened. As the kiss deepened, her pulse echoed in rhythm with his. A throbbing began in her women’s place, and she heard herself whimper. With fear? Or pleasure?
For she felt both. His kiss consumed her, like brushwood in a fire.
His hand came to rest on her bodice. His fingers teased her nipple until her breast felt swollen and aching. Shock gave way to pleasure. She inhaled the warm familiar smell of him, of man and horse and coffee as his hand continued its exploration. Cradling her head with one hand, he pursued the kiss with more fervor. His other hand moved downward over her buttocks, kneading and pushing as he held her against the hardness at his groin. A shiver of alarm ran through her as she remembered the stallion and the screaming mare.
Katherine stiffened.
Nicholas groaned and set her from him.
With a shaking hand, she brushed a lock of hair from her face. She gulped and touched lips still tingling. Her words came low and labored. “I think I understand.”
He looked at her, the planes of his face made harsh by the firelight. A mocking smile touched the corners of his mouth.
“No, you do not.” He shook his head. “’Twas just the beginning of it.”
* * *
Katherine slept no more that night. She lay awake listening to Nicholas breathe as he slumbered before the fire. Her body contained a restless energy. Her mind churned.
Again and again, the memory of his kiss and of his hands on her body returned, washed through her, enveloping her in a hot throbbing surge of sensation that left her shaking and on edge.
How could a kiss be so powerful? Leave her lost and aching and afraid?
Every time she closed her eyes, Nicholas’s face would come to her: a pair of mocking blue eyes, a cleft chin, and a white streak lightening a head of black hair.
Tomorrow they would spend most of a day on the same horse. Katherine wondered how she could endure it.
Mating
…
the most pleasant thing a man and a woman can do together
…
Her heart lurched, and she felt a strange emptiness in her belly. She remembered the challenge she’d seen in his eyes just before he kissed her. Was it a warning that soon, very soon, he would evoke wails and groans from her? That he would give her the pleasure a man could give a woman? A rush of heat ran through her, and she kicked off the covers.
The fire popped, and she heard him resettle before the hearth.
How could he sleep when she could not?
Katherine tossed irritably, then stilled, not wishing to wake him. Her breasts ached. Her woman’s place throbbed. Tension built in her until she wanted to shriek.
How could she continue in his company?
Did he provide safety? Or danger?
Jeremy had offered his protection and he was no threat at all. He would follow her direction. Using the stars as their guide, now that she knew what to look for, they could make their way to London without further mishap. She could be free from Nicholas’s overpowering presence and the temptation to discover things best left unknown.
Katherine took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She really had no choice.
Taking care to be quiet, she moved from the bed, aware of every creak of the ropes that supported the mattress. Standing very still, almost afraid to breathe, she surveyed the room. The satchel containing her medical supplies lay on the floor where she had dropped it; the other satchel was near the door. Skirt, petticoat, shoes and stockings were on the floor near the bed where she had left them. Her cloak lay on the chair where she’d tossed it.
Pity Nicholas slept so close to it.
Watching him sleep, alert for signs he was waking, Katherine slipped into her petticoat and skirt.
Montford lay with him, her back along Nicholas’s front. Could she wake the cat without waking the man? As if in answer, Montford stretched out a paw, yawned, and nestled closer to Nicholas.
Montford had made her choice. Katherine closed her eyes and swallowed back a sob, then let out an even breath. Though it might break her heart, it would be easier to travel without her kitty. In any case, Katherine could not stay just because her cat would not come with her.
What of her cloak? She must have it or risk freezing.