Through The Leaded Glass (16 page)

She put a finger to his lips. “You’ll never
say it, but it’s true. Marston was the first. I tried to fool
myself that it could be different, that it could be more with you.
But don’t you see, Nicholas? I must go to the highest bidder.
There’s no other choice. The king and my daughters’ futures demand
it.”

“
Then
I
shall
bid.”

Her smile was sad and she backed away from
him, gathering the blue gown around her. “Goodbye,
Nicholas.”

He reached for her, but she ran to her solar,
stopping to turn in the doorway. “Don’t delude yourself, Nicholas.
We both know that, for this king, you don’t have enough to offer.”
She closed the door behind her.

She was wrong. So wrong. “I have everything to
offer, Issy, if only you’d see it.”

He would prove it.

Chapter Nine

“
You look like hell.” Alex grabbed
Nick’s arm when he stumbled into the hall the next morn, wearing
the same clothes he’d been wearing last evening, though more
disheveled for their trials. He reeked of wine and stale flesh, and
his eyes were redder than his hair.

Alex led him to the chamber beyond. “What
happened last night, Nick?”

Nick’s laugh as he lurched into the room was a
sound to be pitied. “Happened? Not a bloody thing happened. I
merely accompanied Iso—Lady Marston to her home so she wouldn’t
disrupt your evening.”

Alex closed the door behind them. “The fact
that you didn’t return to your rooms here—”

“
Is none of your damn business,
Alex.” Nick slurred as he missed a step and fell onto the table,
his sword clattering against the legs. “God, my head.” He fought
with his scabbard to sink into a chair, then rubbed the offensive
body part.

Sunlight filtered through the tracery window,
the cut glass dancing in slashes and diamonds over the polished
tabletop and Nick’s soiled cloak. Mud caked his boots, a sizeable
portion of the heel scraped off. Marks like lashings peppered his
hose.

Alex let the sounds from the great hall beyond
the door underscore his silence; the growling of the dogs as they
fought for last night’s scraps, the placing of the trestle tables
and benches for the morning meal, the steady progress of men as
they entered to break their fast. Nick would talk when he was
ready.

Finally, with a shuddering sigh, Nick peered
through his matted hair, one blue eye glaring through the dirt and
grime covering his hands.

“
I took a nice long ride throughout
your fair lands and got myself stinking sotted. Happy?”

“
Hardly. I have other things to
worry about. I don’t need a drunken friend mulling
about.”

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. “Far be
it for me to cause further worry. Don’t concern yourself with me,
Alex.”

Alex pulled the chair across from him. “But I
do, Nick. I wonder why you never told me. I was about to do you a
disservice, one to Isobel, to our friendship, and you didn’t say
anyth—”

Nick shoved back from the table, wincing as
the chair grated across the floor. “For the love of God, Alex, let
it go.”

“
When you admit you love
her.”

“
Have your senses left you?” Nick
stared at him. “I don’t love Iso—Lady Marston.” He heaved himself
from the chair and staggered to the door.

“
Then why the drunken ride through
my land?”

“
I don’t love her,” he said again,
pulling at the door. Unfortunately for him, he needed to push
it.

Alex fought to keep the smile from his face.
He remembered when he’d finally admitted his feelings for
Jeanne.

“
Very well, you don’t love her.
Last night was, perhaps, an aberration? The moon urging you to
drink beyond all reason?” Alex walked to the window and pushed open
the pane. The day’s rays warmed his face. Horses trotted below with
their bridles jingling amid the swordplay of his men training in
the yard. He caught a glimpse of Kate as she followed Beatrice to
the well. He’d speak with her about that. Servants drew the water,
not future countesses.

She was sure to have an opinion on
that.

He turned back to Nick. “Then you won’t mind
when I tell you Henry has heard of my betrothal and is making a
move toward Wexham for Isobel.”

Nick rolled against the wall, his chin and
legs sagging. “It can’t be true.”

“
I’m afraid it is,
Nick.”

“
He’ll kill her.”

Love was a double-edged sword as Alex well
knew. “Wexham won’t, Nick. Not this time. Henry needs his money and
Wexham needs the king’s favor. One more death would be too much
scandal for even Wexham to overcome.”

“
If there were some way to prevent
this. Some way…”

“
I thought you didn’t care for
her.”

Nick’s look would have flayed the flesh from
his bones if his drunken state didn’t make the thought laughable.
“Don’t mock me, Alex.”

“
Then don’t lie to me. Had I known
of your feelings, I wouldn’t have considered her. I could have
asked Henry—”

“
I don’t love her, Alex.” Nick
straightened his shoulders and thrust a hand through his hair. “So,
when shall we bring Farley to the king?”

Fine. Nick didn’t want his interference. “I
don’t know that he’s guilty, Nick.”

“
The man threatened you before
witnesses.”

“
True, but he doesn’t have a reason
to harm William.”

“
Revenge is a good enough reason,
Alex.”

God knew, Alex had thought so last night, but
when he’d checked the hidden items and found deeds of greater value
still there, it didn’t make sense. “But what else does he hope to
gain? The land wouldn’t be his, nor the income. Certainly not the
king’s favor. To threaten murder, an offense punishable by hanging,
there would have to be more to it than mere jealousy.”

“
Think about it, Alex. No one
resents you more than Farley and whoever is doing this, is after
you. This is personal.”

Chapter Ten

“
Alex!” Kate ran across the bailey
toward him, of few auburn curls slipping from her cap to fall
beneath the neckline of her goldenrod gown.

Alex’s fingers itched to trace their
path.

Christ
.

He pulled his gaze off her, staring, instead
at the children herding the flock of geese. At the man dripping
water from his buckets across the ground. The cart carrying
firewood to the forge. The metal smith’s hammer as it struck the
anvil. Anywhere but at Kate and the memory of how close he’d been
to having her. And how much he still wanted to.

He’d just spent a disastrous hour with the
messengers his men had sent back. No one had seen Kate’s window.
And his guards could shed no light on who’d had access to his
rooms, nor how. ‘Twas as if both the window and the culprit didn’t
exist, yet he knew that they did. And it frustrated the hell out of
him.

As Kate did with her bouncing breasts and big,
beautiful smile, and that form, God that form that he’d held in his
hands and rutted against.

“
Alex, have you—”

“
No, Kate, I haven’t found your
blasted window.” If he had, he’d be holding it to shield the
evidence of her effect on him.

The corners of her mouth twitched. “Hmmm.
Somebody got up on the wrong side of the bed this
morning.”

No side would be wrong if she were
there when he awoke.

“
Merely a conversation that ended
inconclusively. What do you need?”

“
What do I need? Hmm, let’s think.
How about a burger, a hot shower, and oh, I don’t know, maybe the
means to get all of them?”

“
Is that scorn I hear?” She put her
hand on her hip and blinked at him.

Alex sighed. “All right, Kate, what is it you
sought me out for?”

She took his words for the thinly veiled
apology they were meant to be. “I need your help. Cook is refusing
to try some new food preparation methods and I’d like your
intercession. Apparently, my word is not law in the
kitchen.”

“
Your word’s not law
anywhere.”

“
Fabulous. You enjoy your little
power trip while I muddle through with the peons. I was aiming for
dinner, but that option is long gone. However, if you want supper
tonight, I suggest you order Cook to give my ideas a shot,
otherwise I won’t be responsible for maggot-ridden meat, tasteless
soppy veggies, and non-nutritious bread. ‘Kay?”

Her slender fingers gripped her hips in her
anger, but Alex could only think of how those fingers had felt
gripping his arms yesterday, the feel of her nails in his flesh.
How narrow her hips had been in his hands, how they moved against
him, as her heat had scorched his skin—

“
Hello? Alex?” She waved those
delicate, graceful fingers before his face.

He captured one and restrained the urge to
bury his lips against her palm. “You wear the ring, but your words
have no meaning.”

She snatched her hand back. Alex felt its lack
immediately.

“
I just want to show her a few new
ideas. Some sanitary practices for her kitchen. Is that so
difficult? Because if so, I’m still willing to ride into town to
ask around for the window. Better yet, I’ll head off into the
sunset to find Alicia and her merry men. It’s up to
you.”

“
Kate, I understand that you think
your ways are better, but people aren’t accustomed to them. They’re
distrustful. Cook knows her trade. Leave her to it. You need to
learn our ways to fit in here. For instance, not drawing water from
the well. There are others to do th—”

A woman’s scream shrieked through the bailey.
The wood cart ceased moving, the children turned to stare, and even
the geese were silent as everyone and everything
stopped.

The scream came again, now spurring everyone
to action. Kate grabbed her skirts and looked at him.
“Where?”

“
This way.” Alex ran toward the
postern gate. That cry had come from the river.

Others followed. Those in the fields joined
the growing crowd as they sped down the incline toward the river’s
edge where a woman ran, flailing her arms, shrieking at the rushing
water.

Shouts, calls, pointing fingers—there—bobbing
in the current toward the shallows.

Alex reached the woman just as she fled down
the embankment into the river and reached for—

A child.

Alex’s heart clenched as he ran past the
woman. “Kate, keep her back!” he yelled, hauling the boy from the
reeds, frigid river water streaming from his clothing.

The child, Rory, was turning blue, not
breathing. Flashes of memories of Jeanne… his son… still… on the
bed—

No. Not again. He couldn’t live through that
pain again.

Alex trudged through the reeds to the bank and
laid Rory gently on the ground.

The boy’s hands were bound.

This was no accident.

Anger, white-hot, surged through Alex. “Rory!”
He shook him. By God, he’d not have it!

He shook Rory harder until Jane, the tanner’s
widow, fell upon her son, sobbing, calling his name, her tears
drenching him more than the river had, and Alex had to sit
back.

Nick was right; this was personal, for the
madman would know what a child’s death meant to him.

He closed the boy’s eyes and blinked against
the sting behind his own as Kate barreled through the crowd to
fling herself on her knees beside him.

“
Alex, help me. Get her off him. I
might be able to help.” She yanked his arm. “Alex, come on! Untie
him! Time’s our enemy here. Let me try to save him!”

“
What can you do, Kate? He’s gone.”
But he did as she asked, plucking Jane from her son and giving her
into her sister’s care, then untied the ropes.

Once Rory’s arms were free, Kate rolled him to
his side and pounded on his back. Water trickled out, but not
enough to reverse the effects of the river.

Rory was gone, couldn’t she see that?
“Kate—”

“
Come on, come on!” Kate rolled
Rory onto his back, knelt at his side, and put her hand on his
chest. She pressed. Twice.

Nothing happened.

“
Kate—”

Then she did the oddest thing. She tilted the
child’s head, pinched his nose closed, put her mouth over his, and
blew into it.

Jane went silent at the sight. As did the rest
of his people.

The swift flow of the deadly river was the
only sound as Kate alternated between Rory’s head and his chest,
repeating her actions, over and over. She was breathing into him.
For him.

It just might work. Alex moved beside her.
“Show me what to do.”

A low murmur started among his people as he
worked with her. After a few compressions, he paused for her to
breathe into Rory again. After two breaths, she put her hand on the
child’s neck.