The Lady Katherine
Chronicles 24
Lady Katherine and
The Belligerent Bride
By Sazzy
Posted June 2010
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Codes: uber J/7
Rating: NC-17
Setting: May 1193, Nottinghamshire, England
Thanks:
To
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fan fiction but uses characters
that bear a striking resemblance to those that are copyright of Paramount
Pictures. No infringement on their copyright is intended by the author in
any way, shape or form - this is just a bit of fun. This story includes an all female
relationship, so if you don’t like that then look away now. P.s. no claims on
historic accuracy are made!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first thing to
register in Lady Katherine of Markham’s mind as she stirred from sleep was that
something was tickling gently at her ear. She chuckled to herself as she rolled
over.
“You’re eager this
morning …”
The words died on her
lips as she opened her eyes. Before her was not the expected sight of gorgeous
blue eyes but instead the vision of a bemused squirrel. It tilted its head to
the side and made an indignant clicking noise at having lost its nibbling
object. Katherine screamed and shot up into a sitting position. The squirrel
leapt backwards before disappearing into a nearby bush. It was at this point
Katherine realised she was not even in her bedroom but appeared to have been
sleeping fully clothed in the middle of a field. Now she was sitting she also
noted the rampant headache hammering at her temple. Bringing her hand up to rub
ineffectually at it, the events of the previous evening swam back into her
mind.
For some reason
Beatrice had decided it was a good idea to hold a celebration for all her
female friends the night before her wedding day. Supposedly it was tradition,
but Katherine thought it more likely Beatrice had made it up as an excuse to
get well and truly drunk on her last night of ‘freedom’ as she put it. The
young maid had certainly made a good job of it if that was her aim. The last
Katherine recalled Beatrice had been standing on a table singing a modified
version of ‘The Lonely Wench’. Those modifications mainly involved copious
cursing and sexual innuendo as if the song didn’t contain enough of it already.
Katherine groaned as she had a vague recollection of joining in herself with a
line rhyming ‘knock’ with something that should not be uttered by a respectable
lady of the manor. She supposed she should never have had three of Beatrice’s
special cocktails, not when the special element appeared to be as much alcohol
as possible.
However, how she had
gone from drinking and singing bawdy songs at the party to sleeping in a field
was a mystery to her. It was lucky the weather was fine, since that wasn’t
always the case in the last week of May. She could easily have woken to find
herself lying in a puddle during a torrential downpour rather than having the
sun dappling across the green grass and warming the top of her head. She closed
her eyes for a moment and just luxuriated in the feel of it, letting it push
her headache away. A faint rustling from the nearby bushes drifted to her ears
and Katherine’s eyes shot open. She didn’t fancy becoming squirrel food again.
She clambered to her
feet, ready to ward off the furry interloper when she noticed a flash of
something much larger between the leaves. “Is there someone back there?” she
asked the quivering bush.
“Actually it’s me,
Milady,” came a wary voice that Katherine recognised.
“Beatrice? What are
you doing hiding in a bush?” asked Katherine as she started to make her way
round it.
Beatrice let out a
panicked, “Wait, don’t!”, but it was too late, Katherine had already made it to
the other side.
The answer to
Katherine’s question was now perfectly clear. Beatrice was stark naked, though
hurriedly trying to cover herself up with some well placed greenery. The tiny
leaves were hardly up to the job, though. Katherine was at a loss for words as
was the blushing Beatrice for once.
“I … er … seem to have
lost my clothes,” she finally managed.
“So you have,”
Katherine noted, trying desperately to hold back her sniggers. “Is this part of
the pre-wedding tradition too or are you just trying to scare the wildlife?”
“Are you saying my naked
body is scary?”
“No,” replied
Katherine, “you have very lovely …” she cast around for something appropriate
to say while trying to avoid staring “… berries.”
Beatrice pulled one of
the small red fruits off the bush and flung it at Katherine who dodged the
projectile while laughing.
“It’s all right for
you,” moaned Beatrice, “at least you’re fully clothed.”
“I guess your other
party guests thought it might be a step too far stealing the lady of the
manor’s clothes.”
“In which case you
could lend me some of them,” suggested Beatrice.
Katherine looked down
at her attire. She didn’t exactly have many layers to spare, but supposed they
could work something out. After some swift exchanging of items, they both stood
half-dressed. The breeze picked at the gap in Katherine’s sleeveless vest, the
only item she now had on her top half. Her breasts were dangerously close to
being revealed no matter how she tried to pull it closed. Katherine sincerely
hoped she didn’t bump into anyone dressed as she was. She knew she had a
reputation as a bit of an eccentric, but if anyone caught her wandering the
estate partially clothed they might start to question her sanity.
“Now I think it would
be prudent to find the nearest village and get us some better apparel,” suggested
Katherine. “We can discern where we are then too. Hopefully it’s not too far
from Markham else you’re going to be in quite the rush to make it to the church
on time. We wouldn’t want to keep your expectant groom Thomas waiting.”
“You do realise the
men and special guest have probably gotten up to much worse,” noted Beatrice.
The special guest
Beatrice was referring to was Anne, who had been invited to join Thomas’ party
since it consisted mainly of members of the guard of whom she was one. Katherine
suspected it was another attempt by Thomas to gain Anne’s favour since the
young woman still bore a grudge due to his act of betrayal the year before.
“I’m sure Anne will
have kept him in line,” stated Katherine confidently.
Beatrice raised a
querying eyebrow. “How sure?”
…….
Anne groaned and
brought her hands up to her pounding head. This was why she didn’t normally
drink. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, joining in with the other
guards and matching them drink for drink to show solidarity, but now the pain
behind her eyes suggested otherwise. She held them shut for a few more seconds
before risking a peek at the harsh light of morning. And harsh it certainly
was. So harsh that she quickly realised she was actually outside with the sun beaming
directly down on her. As she went to sit up a clanking rattle alerted her to
something else that wasn’t quite right.
In some consternation
she saw that her left foot appeared to have a manacle on it. That wasn’t the
worst of it, though. The other end of the short chain was secured to a second
manacle around the leg of a resoundingly snoring Thomas. Anne poked him with
her free foot. When all this garnered was a snuffle and a bout of louder
snoring, she gave him solid kick.
“Wake up!”
Thomas grunted and
slowly peeled himself off the ground. His fair hair was disarrayed while his
normally blue eyes were distinctly bloodshot. Anne wasn’t surprised given the
amount of ale he’d consumed the night before. Unfortunately it appeared she’d
also overindulged and allowed the other guards to play a decidedly un-amusing
trick on the pair of them. Thomas dazedly took in their predicament before
focussing his bleary eyes on her.
“Where are we?”
“I have no idea,”
admitted Anne as she cast her eyes around the landscape. There were no
dwellings or landmarks in sight. “It seems your friends thought it would be
hilarious to strand us in the middle of nowhere only hours before your
wedding.”
Thomas groaned and
rubbed at his head. “Beatrice is going to kill me if I’m late.”
Anne considered that
might not be such a bad outcome, but kept the uncharitable thought to herself.
“Then I guess we had best pick a direction and start walking,” she suggested
instead.
“Getting these off as
soon as possible would help too,” noted Thomas as he tried unsuccessfully to
push the manacle off over his foot.
“I could always break
your ankle for you?” offered Anne nonchalantly.
Thomas looked at her
aghast, unsure if she was joking. “If it’s all the same I’d like to be able to
walk up the aisle at my wedding.”
Anne shrugged. “It
would just be the quickest way to remove them.”
“Maybe we could find a
smithy or something instead and keep all our body parts in one piece?”
Anne supposed that was
the next best alternative and clambered to her feet. She made no attempt at
further conversation as they stumbled forwards trailing the chain between them,
merely casting disapproving glances at Thomas whenever he failed to keep to her
walking rhythm. She wondered how the other party had fared the night before.
Hopefully Katherine hadn’t befallen any similar practical jokes. Anne couldn’t
picture it – Katherine may be relaxed for a noble, but she didn’t think the
peasants would risk it. However, Katherine’s sister was also down from
Yorkshire for the festivities and Phillipa appeared to have a mischievous
streak. Just in case that streak extended to some fun at her sister’s expense
Anne had precautions in place. A tug on her ankle brought her back to her own
predicament. Thomas had stumbled over in a rabbit hole, now sitting on his
backside on the grass. Anne simply reached down and yanked him roughly to his
feet.
“Anyone would think
you didn’t want to get back to Markham,” she noted.
“Then anyone would be
wrong,” he replied. “There’s nothing I want more than to get married to
Beatrice.”
Anne made a scoffing
laugh, but didn’t say anything further. Thomas looked like he was about to
argue the point when movement from across the field drew their eyes in that
direction. A garrison of troops sporting what Anne recognised as the Mansfield
colours came into view. Obviously they were further afield than they’d thought.
The troops had also spotted them in return, coming to a halt as a man. Anne
took one look at the dozen or so heavily armed men before swinging Thomas round
in the opposite direction.
“Run!”
She tried to tug him
away, but he seemed reluctant to obey. “Why do we need to run? You’re not an
outlaw any more remember.”
“I know that,” she
replied with an exasperated sigh, “but in case you hadn’t noticed we’re not in
our colours and happen to be chained together like we’re escaped prisoners. We
could probably sort it out eventually, but then you’d have well and truly
missed your wedding.”
Thomas took a quick
look down at their chained ankles. “Good point. Let’s run!”
As soon as they
started staggering off in an awkward hop-skipping run, a cry to stop came from
behind them. Anne risked a quick backwards glance to see the soldiers now
running in their direction through the knee-high grass. Next to her, Thomas
stumbled and crashed into her, Anne just catching him to stop them both going
down.
“We need to run in
time,” she instructed him, “move our joined feet as one. Ready?”
He simply nodded and
concentrated hard on their feet as they set off again. Realising it was the
best way to increase their speed, Anne put her arm across Thomas’ shoulders.
His body jolted repetitively into her as they bounded along. Thomas grinned up
at her.
“See, we can work
together!”
“Watch where you’re
going!” she cried back, but it was too late. Thomas’ foot hit a small earthy
hummock, tripping him up. At the speed they were going there was no rescuing
the situation this time. They tumbled forwards, rolling over and over down the
slope they had been negotiating. Eventually they reached the bottom, with
Thomas landing smack bang on top of Anne in the tangle of limbs. Slowly he
levered himself up and offered a sheepish grin.
“Sorry.”
Anne rolled her eyes
and pondered that it could yet be a very long walk back to Markham.
…….
Friar Tuck strode in
through the front door to Markham Manor. It was only nine in the morning but
already things were not going well. For one he seemed to be missing both the
bride and groom for that afternoon’s wedding. For another the sanctum of his church
had been invaded by people with flowers, and decorations and all sorts of
clutter wanting him to tell them what to do. Inside the house things were
equally chaotic, with people dashing backwards and forwards laden with all
manner of items from plates to parsnips and everything in between. All in all
the wedding preparations appeared to be careening onwards with no one at the
helm to guide them.
That was one of the
reasons he was now at the manor house and looking for the lady of it. However,
he couldn’t see Katherine amongst the bustling bodies before him. The young
squire William came barrelling past carrying some flapping bunting and the
friar quickly latched onto his arm.
“Have you seen your
mistress?” he asked, reasoning that wherever Anne was, Katherine was sure to be
close behind.
“Not since last night
at the guards’ party,” he answered.
His obvious reticence
as he spoke of it was enough to indicate to the friar that wasn’t quite the
whole story. “You saw her leave the party did you?”
“Well, er…”
“I hope you’re not
about to attempt to lie to a man of the cloth?” The friar fixed the young man
with a stare to back up his point.
“It wasn’t my idea!”
pleaded William.
“What wasn’t?”
“It was Benedict and
the others,” he gabbled in response, “they thought it would be funny and I’m
only a squire, I don’t get a say.”
“What did they think
would be funny?” pressed the friar.
“They snuck extra
spirits into Anne and Thomas’ drinks and then when they passed out took them
both and dumped them out in the countryside somewhere.”
The friar’s bald brow
creased. “And that’s meant to be funny how?”
The young man had no
answer for that. “I’m sure they’ll be fine,” he attempted instead.
“Luckily for you I’m
sure they will be since Anne has enough sense for both of them, a good job
considering Thomas’ lack of it. I don’t suppose you know anything about the
whereabouts of the bride as well?”
“Now that I really
can’t help you with,” answered William. “Maybe her ladyship’s sister knows? I’m
sure I saw her around here …” He cast his eyes around the hall that seemed to
be becoming more and more crowded “… somewhere.”
The friar sighed. “All
right, you can get on, I’m sure there is a desperate need for more bunting
somewhere.”
The young man nodded
and quickly dashed off, thankful to be excused. The friar worked his way across
the room in search of either Katherine or her sister, though his progress was
slowed by repeated questions about the wedding. For some reason everyone seemed
to think he was the source of all information regarding it. By the time he
reached the far side near the kitchens he felt thoroughly harassed. He leant
against the wall and took a deep breath. No wonder Katherine was lying low and
avoiding all this. Next to him the door to the kitchen banged open and a
stressed looking cook barrelled out, his face even more red than normal.
“Friar! Quick, which
am I meant to be cooking – the quail or the pheasant?”
“How should I know?”
cried the friar. “I’m a friar, not a cook!”
Not waiting for any
response he fled the hall in search of sanctuary at the church. It was going to
be a long day.
…….
Elsewhere, completely
unaware of the runaway wedding preparations, Katherine stealthily crawled up a
grassy hillock. Once at the top she peered over the summit and surveyed the
village beyond it. It appeared reasonably quiet with only a couple of women
visible passing the time of day in front of one of the houses. Katherine
recognised one of them, taking only a couple of seconds to place her and thus
identify the village as East Drayton. At least that meant they were only a
couple of miles from Markham.
By her side Beatrice
shuffled closer across the ground in order to whisper. “We could just go down
there and ask them for some clothes; you are the lady of the manor.”
“Which is exactly why
I don’t want anyone seeing me like this.”
Some grass had become lodged where Katherine’s vest gaped open and she took
a moment to pluck it out from between her breasts, depositing it back on the
ground with a small huff to show her disapproval.
“So you’d rather steal
their clothes?” queried Beatrice. “I think you’ve been hanging out with outlaws
too much.”
“It’s not stealing,”
corrected Katherine. “I’ll reimburse them later, but right now I seem to be
without my purse, along with half my clothes,” she said pointedly as she swept
her eyes over both their garments.
“All right, all
right,” said Beatrice finally realising Katherine wasn’t really in the mood for
a discussion. “We’ll do it your way.”
The pair of them crept
down the grassy bank, alert the whole time for signs of life from the sleepy
village. Fortunately there didn’t seem to be any. Equally fortuitous was the
fact that someone had left some clothes hanging out on a line close to the edge
of the village. The two women proceeded to unhook the garments and when
Katherine thought she had enough items she glanced sideways to Beatrice. The
young woman was attempting to get her foot into a skirt.
“Don’t put that on
now,” hissed Katherine, “let’s just get the clothes and get out of here!”
“Easy for you to say
when you already have a skirt on.”
Since she was halfway
through the action anyway, Beatrice finished hopping into the skirt.
Unfortunately she didn’t notice the chicken that had wandered behind her. As
her foot came down there was a pained clucking noise. Katherine froze with her
ill-gotten gains in her hands as it echoed round the village. There was silence
for a second before a shout rang out in their direction.
“Hey! What are you
doing back there?”
Katherine didn’t even
look, just grabbing Beatrice’s arm. “Quick, run!”
They dashed back the
way they had come, but it appeared their luck had most definitely turned. A
group of the village men were heading towards them from that direction.
Katherine spun on her heel. “Back the other way!”
They ran through the
village, stolen clothes flapping in their arms. However, more people were
gathering there too, having been alerted by the initial alarm raising.
Katherine skidded to a halt at the edge of the village pond. Unfortunately
Beatrice didn’t do likewise, having been looking over her shoulder for
pursuers. Instead her progress was halted when she cannoned right into
Katherine.
Katherine’s arms
whirled futilely in the air for a moment before she succumbed to the inevitable,
falling into the pond with a loud splash. The ducks on it scattered, issuing
indignant quacks to draw just a bit more attention to Katherine as if that was
needed. By the time she sat up in the dull brown water the whole village seemed
to be arrayed before her on the bank. One duck had resolutely remained and let
her know just what he thought of her intrusion by a fresh bout of quacking as
he swum between the discarded clothes floating across the surface.
Katherine slowly
pushed her sodden hair out of her eyes. In turn the eyes of the village woman
Katherine had initially recognised widened. “Milady?”
The other villagers
glanced uncertainly between her and the bedraggled Katherine obviously
wondering if the woman was mad. Katherine couldn’t have looked anything less
like a lady if she’d tried. Water cascaded off her as she rose and squelched
her way to the bank before clambering out. She could see the light of
recognition going on in some of the other villagers’ eyes and supposed it was
too late to do anything else than brazen it out. Having removed some aquatic
plant life from her hair, Katherine held her head up high with as much dignity
as she could muster and addressed the assembled throng in a confident voice.
“Good morning, everyone.”
The villagers didn’t
seem to know quite how to respond and they all stood in silence for a moment
just staring at her.
“It’s a lovely morning
for a walk isn’t it?” Katherine attempted breezily.
“You was nicking our
clothes!” cried a small girl who’d worked her way to the front.
One of the villagers
swiftly grabbed the girl, sticking a hand over her mouth as she continued to
protest. Katherine sighed supposing any attempt at maintaining a vague pretence
of dignity had disappeared about the time she fell in the pond, quite possibly
long before that.
“No it’s all right,”
she said. “She’s correct - we were trying to borrow some of your clothes. As you can see my maid and I had an …
unfortunate incident on the road.” Katherine didn’t elaborate as to what sort
of incident could lead to them being partially dressed, quickly moving on. “We
just needed some additional attire and didn’t want to bother you. I was of
course going to recompense you in return.”
“Of course, Milady,”
replied one of the women. “You should have just asked - we’d be happy to help
wouldn’t we?”
This was met with a
chorus of approving nods and yeses, apart from next to Katherine where
indistinct muttering was emanating from Beatrice. Katherine ignored her and
continued to address the villagers. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble to ask
for some water to wash up too?” she asked, gesturing at her dirtied state.
“No, no, of course
not,” agreed the spokeswoman.
This time Beatrice’s
muttering was just loud enough for Katherine to hear. “Might as well stay and
have bloody dinner while we’re at it.”
Katherine leant in to
reply out of earshot of the villagers. “There’s still a handy pond right next
to us if you fancy cooling off.”
“We’re never going to
get back to Markham in time at this rate, though,” whined Beatrice.
“Now you’re being
melodramatic. There’s still plenty of time – it’s only about an hours walk from
here and I’m not going to make that walk looking like I just stepped out of a
duck pond, even if I have.”
“Well, we better not
get waylaid anymore,” grumbled Beatrice.
She had barely
finished the sentence when a piercing scream shattered the quiet of the
village. Some of the villagers dashed off immediately in the direction it had
come from. Katherine gave Beatrice a quick ‘you were the one who said it’ look
before hurrying after them. A second cry of pain led her to one of the
dwellings where the first arrivals were gathered on the threshold. Katherine
pushed her way to the front just as a third ear-splitting wail came from the
house. Inside she could see a young woman lying on the floor and obviously in
the advanced stages of labour. Her eyes flicked wildly to her audience.
“Don’t just bloody
stand there – someone help me!”
….
Several miles to the
north-west, Anne and Thomas ducked inside a stable, the chains around their
ankles coming to a rattling halt. Anne peered out between the ill-fitting
timbers of the wall, confirming that somehow they’d managed to evade the
Mansfield troops. Quite possibly they’d crossed the border onto Markham land and
the soldiers had decided it wasn’t worth the bother continuing the pursuit.
“We’ve lost them,” she
informed Thomas, “so I suggest we look around for anything to cut these
chains.”
They did so in
silence, Thomas having long since given up attempts at conversation. Sifting
through the tools, Anne’s mind drifted back to another stable she had visited a
couple of days previously, one that sat next to a cottage deep in Sherwood
Forest.
“First we need to place our lockets in the
middle.”
Anne looked to Axia who was sat opposite her
amongst the straw of the stable floor. The other women reverentially drew her
locket out from under her top and off over her head. Anne dug down into her
boot and fished out hers. She refused to wear it round her neck when she already
had a perfectly good pendant there. Axia said something in German to the other
occupant of the room. From what Anne had been able to make out Johannes spoke
no English. The young man placed his locket down next to theirs in the centre
of their circle.
“Now, if we all close our eyes, just let our
minds drift …”
Anne watched for a moment as Axia followed her
own instructions before caving in and doing likewise. She took a few deep
breaths and cleared her mind of conscious thought. She tried to just let
herself feel her surroundings – the faint tickle of the straw under her, the
sound of the trees swaying outside, the occasional gentle drift of cool air
across her skin.
“Anne? Can you hear me?”
Anne jolted back to full awareness, staring at
the young man next to her. It was his voice she had heard, somehow directly in
her mind and in English. Sensing her study, he opened his eyes and smiled back
at her.
“You do speak English?” she queried only to be
met by a confused look.
Instead it was Axia who replied for him. “No,”
she explained, “at least not out here. However, when we are joined there are no
language barriers, just a sharing of thoughts.”
Anne wasn’t sure she wanted anyone poking
around in her mind, especially not after her previous experiences with the dark
witch. “That’s all very lovely,” she said, “but I don’t see how having a nice
chat with one another is going to help us defeat some great evil.”
“This is just the first step,” outlined Axia.
“Once we can join together in this way, then we can move forward to joining our
energies and using them to draw on nature’s power.”
“I can do that already on my own, though,”
pointed out Anne, though in fact she rarely did unless by accident. She’d never
had the time or inclination to develop those abilities, especially when she’d
not had anyone to teach her. Of course that was different now.
“That’s true,” agreed Axia, though Anne sensed
the other woman knew she didn’t have the control she was alluding to. “However,
together we can do so much more, need to do so much more.” She smiled at Anne.
“Shall we try again?”
“Anne?”
Anne started as
Thomas’ voice cut through her recollections. The young guard regarded her
curiously.
“You seemed to be off
somewhere else for a moment there,” he commented, “something that’s actually
been happening a bit recently.”
“What’s that supposed
to mean?” Anne demanded defensively, still perturbed by her recollections. She
thought she’d been discrete with her absences to visit Axia, but obviously some
people had noticed. Curiously Katherine wasn’t one of them, or at least she’d
not mentioned anything to Anne.
“Some of the guys are
starting to talk,” replied Thomas.
“You mean Benedict is
starting to talk.”
Thomas held up his
hands, sensing a brewing storm. “I’m just letting you know what’s going on, I
didn’t say I believed it.”
“And what exactly is
this ‘talk’?”
Thomas hesitated,
weighing up the wisdom of continuing. Eventually Anne’s intense stare drew the
explanation out of him. “That you have other interests outside of your duties
to the estate, contacts with your old life still.”
Anne bristled. How
many times was she going to have to prove herself to these people? Maybe she
would be better off back with the outlaws; at least no one questioned her
motives there.
Thomas continued.
“Some of the guys don’t trust you - they think your loyalties lie elsewhere.”
Anne had heard enough,
going on the offensive. “I can’t believe you of all people are questioning my
loyalty!”
“How many more times
can I say I’m sorry for what happened last year?”
“Not enough,” seethed
Anne. She was more than happy to let her residual anger over that flare up if
it deflected from discussion of her.
Thomas glared back at
her, rising to the bait. “You know what, I’ve had about enough of your superior
attitude. I’ve tried to make amends, gone out of my way to be nice to you and
you keep chucking it back in my face. Her ladyship has forgiven me, why can’t
you?”
Anne crossed her arms
and peered down her nose at him as if he was something insignificant on the
bottom of her boot. “That’s her prerogative, but then she does like to try and
see the best in people. Me, I guess you could say I’m more of a cynic … or a
realist.”
“Like you’ve never
done anything wrong!” cried Thomas. “You were a bloody outlaw for god’s sake.
The King saw fit to pardon you for that and yet you can’t let this go for me?”
“I may have been an
outlaw, but I still had honour and principles,” said Anne. She leaned towards
him, her stare icy. “I would never betray one of my friends.”
Thomas backed away
slightly, though he couldn’t go far thanks to the chains. “And I’m truly sorry
for that,” he said, “but it will never happen again. I just ended up in a
situation I didn’t know how to get out of.”
“So instead you let
the Ares Syndicate nearly kill both me and Katherine?”
“I never knew it was
going to go that far!”
“Right! You talk about
loyalty, but all you could see was the big fat lump of money being dangled in
your face!”
“That’s not how it
was, I wasn’t doing it for me, I just wanted to make things right for
Beatrice.”
“And I wonder if she
realises she’s marrying a scheming coward?”
Anne saw Thomas’
swinging fist at the last second. She swayed back, but not enough to stop it
from striking a glancing blow across the cheek. She staggered on her feet as
her anger flared hotter. Time for some payback at last!
She drove her fist
into Thomas’ stomach, the young man doubling over. A swift knee to his chin
followed. He tumbled backwards, almost taking Anne with him since they were still
joined at the ankle.
“Come on then, coward,
show me what you’re made of,” goaded Anne.
With a snarl Thomas
launched himself up off the floor at her. He careened bodily into her, driving
the pair of them back up against the wall. The rickety timbers creaked in
protest. Anne wrestled him off, grabbed a handy bucket and clonked it round his
head. The rotten wood splintered, leaving Anne just holding a metal handle.
Thomas in turn had found potential weapons among the discarded items of the
stable. A couple of rusty horseshoes sailed past Anne’s swiftly swerving face
before she clattered into Thomas again. They crashed to the ground, rolling
around in the hay as each tried to get the upper hand. A remorseless knee in
the groin allowed Anne to manoeuvre herself on top.
With tears in his
eyes, Thomas stared defiantly up at her. “Go on then, you know you want to –
this is what you’ve wanted to do since last summer!”
Anne’s fist hovered.
She did want to. It would be so easy
to pummel him into submission, but then what? Would it make anything better? She was the only one still carrying a
grudge around, letting her anger fuel her actions as she had done so many times
before. But things were different now; it didn’t have to be that way.
She clambered up off
him. “Just get up.”
Thomas looked bemused
for a moment, staying where he was in case it was a trick. “What? That’s it?”
“I can hit you again
if you prefer?”
He quickly scrambled
to his feet. “No, that’s fine.”
Anne sighed. “Let’s
just get these chains off and get back to Markham.”
……
Katherine hovered in
the doorway for just a moment before moving over to kneel beside the pregnant
woman. “It’s all right,” she said reassuringly, “we’ll get you through this.”
Beatrice had just
arrived in the door in time to hear the words. “What? Surely there must be
someone else here to help?”
As she glanced round
at the people gathered outside they all suddenly found something very
interesting to look at on their shoes or off in the trees surrounding the
village. Giving up on them, she turned back to the pregnant woman. “Who was
meant to be your midwife?”
“It’s old Joan over in
the next village, but that’s an hour’s round trip from here on one of her good
days. I wasn’t expecting the young’un this soon!” Another gasping cry cut off
the end of her words.
Katherine placed a
comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s all right, let it out.” While the young
woman huffed and puffed, Katherine turned to the crowd outside. “Right, you lot
can make yourselves useful – one of you go to get this midwife, we may still
need her. In the mean time I need water and clean cloths. The rest of you can
bugger off and give young …” She turned to the pregnant woman for her name,
receiving the answer of Matilda. “Then the rest of you can give Matilda here
some privacy.”
They seemed
momentarily stunned by the orders, requiring Katherine to prompt them with a
stern look. That was enough to send them scurrying, leaving just Katherine and
the straining Matilda in the house. Beatrice was still loitering at a distance
in the doorway.
“Are you going to
stand there all day, or get over here and help me?” asked Katherine.
Beatrice’s eyes
flicked to her, an uncharacteristic look of panic in them. Matilda gave another
gasping cry at that moment. Beatrice started. “I can’t do this!” she cried
before dashing out the door.
Katherine watched in
bemusement. “Just hang on a moment,” she told Matilda with a reassuring pat on
the arm, “I’ll be right back.”
Outside Beatrice
hadn’t got far. She was leaning against the wall of the house, taking some deep
breaths.
“What’s wrong?” asked
Katherine gently, though she was aware of the need to get back inside as soon
as possible.
Beatrice’s
terror-filled eyes flicked up to her. “I can’t do this! Marriage, children …”
Katherine recognised
the signs of cold feet, though she would never have expected Beatrice to be one
to succumb to them. “It’s just nerves speaking,” she said in a calming voice,
“you’ll be fine.”
“Fine?” wailed
Beatrice. “Did you see that in there, it looked like bloody agony! I’m not
letting Thomas come anywhere near me again!”
“Now you’re just being
silly,” said Katherine, “childbirth is a perfectly natural thing. Yes, it looks
scary, but I’m sure the result is well worth any temporary discomfort.”
“Like you’re the great
authority!”
Katherine flinched
back like someone had slapped her.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean
that,” Beatrice quickly added, though it was too late to take away the sting of
the words. It was one regret of Katherine’s life that she’d never had children,
but now wasn’t the time to be concerned with her feelings.
“Forget it,” she said
dismissively, “I know you’re anxious about the wedding, but it will all be
fine.”
Beatrice wasn’t for
persuading though. “I’m not so sure,” she said, shaking her head. “I … I … just
can’t!”
Before Katherine could
offer any more kind or encouraging words, the young woman pushed away from the
wall and dashed off through the village. Katherine gave a despairing cry of
“Beatrice!” but the other woman didn’t stop.
“Maybe you should let
her cool off for a bit?”
Katherine whirled
round at the sound of the deep voice. “Tobias?” she exclaimed on seeing the
incongruous sight of the captain of the guard behind her. “What are you doing
here?”
“Coming to your
assistance,” he stated, “since it seems you might need some.”
Overcoming her initial
shock on seeing him, Katherine’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “That didn’t
really answer my question,” she noted. “How comes you just happened to be here?
If I was paranoid I’d say you were following me.”
The fact he had no
answer to that was answer enough.
“Did Anne put you up
to this?” pressed Katherine. “Did she ask you to keep an eye on me?”
“We both agreed that
it would not be prudent to leave you unguarded at the present time,” he said in
an even diplomatic tone.
Katherine rolled her
eyes. “I thought it was a bit suspicious the way she so readily agreed to
attend Thomas’ party.”
“She is only concerned
for your safety, as am I.”
“I’m not some fragile
china doll, Tobias! I can look after myself, as I have for the last 40 years of
my life!”
A cry from the house
disturbed the brewing argument.
“I suggest that we
discuss this at a later time,” said Tobias, “for now someone needs our help.”
“And you know a lot
about delivering babies do you?” asked Katherine.
“No, but I can be calm
and logical,” he stated. A brief glance in the direction Beatrice had
disappeared indicated someone he thought had neither of those qualities.
Katherine sighed.
“Fine, let’s just get on with it.”
…..
Back at Markham
someone else’s day was also going from bad to worse. The friar had tried hiding
at the church, but had been assailed by a procession of people disturbing him
to ask stupid questions ranging from what colour flowers went best together to
how to repair a broken cart wheel. Still there was no sign of the bride or
groom or, for that matter, the lady of the manor. More and more the friar was
thinking they had the right idea with their mysterious disappearance. Maybe he
could follow suit. Surely
Having given up on
finding peace and quiet at the church, he’d come back down to the manor house
to see if there was any news on the missing wedding participants. However, if
anything the house seemed more chaotic than earlier with still no sign of the
happy couple or Katherine. Even the normally reliable Tobias was strangely
absent. Instead it was the sound of children’s voices that drew his attention.
“Who are you to tell
us what we can and can’t eat?” came a boy’s voice.
The bodies parted
enough for the friar to see Katherine’s nephew George faced with a stern
looking Natalie. The young servant girl thrust her hands on her hips as she
stared at him. The friar couldn’t help chuckling to himself at the similarity
to Katherine, something that was no doubt not entirely unintentional.
“I’m the lady of the
manor’s personal assistant,” stated Natalie, puffing her chest out with pride
as she did, “so it’s my duty to ensure the festivities go smoothly. Your eating
of the wedding food before the ceremony is unacceptable.”
Again the friar
couldn’t help a furtive grin crossing his face. The emphasis on the last word
was pure Anne. However, George didn’t seem to share his amusement.
“You were one of our
servants not that long ago! Now get out of the way, I’m hungry.”
“You will comply!”
The friar sensed it
was time to stop watching the fun and intervene. He stepped between the two
children, facing the boy.
“I don’t suppose
you’ve seen your aunt have you?”
“Not today,” replied
George. “Mother is over there.” He pointed helpfully at another auburn head
amongst the crowd. “Maybe she might know?”
“Thank you, George,”
said the friar. “Oh, and by the way – no eating the food until after the
ceremony.”
He gave Natalie a
little wink before shoving his way through the throng in the direction
indicated.
“Phillipa,” he called
as he got close, “have you seen your sister anywhere?” The edge of desperation
in his voice was evident.
A frown creased the
brow above the woman’s blue-grey eyes. They were an obvious indicator of the
familial connection to the person who normally presided over matters in the
hall. “Is she not back yet?” Phillipa cast a look towards the door. “It
shouldn’t have taken her that long.”
“Back from where?
Where is she?”
Realising her mistake,
Phillipa’s eyes shifted round the room, looking for a means of escape. “Oh, I
think I hear someone calling me!”
Before the friar could
question her hearing she darted off between the bodies thronging the hall. He
was contemplating giving chase when a hand grabbed his robes.
“Thank God you’re
back!”
The friar turned to
see the cook, looking even more flustered than earlier. The friar was worried
the pulsing vein on the man’s flushed forehead was about to explode.
“I’m having a sauce
dilemma in the kitchen!” cried the rotund man.
“As I told you before,
I’m a friar not some sort of culinary advisor,” the friar said as he tried to
back away. “Just do what you think is best.”
“But what if it’s not
right, what if it turns out to be a disaster? The wedding will be ruined and it
will be all be my fault!”
“I’m sure one slightly
mis-cooked sauce isn’t going to ruin this wedding, there are plenty of other
things more likely to do that – the absence of a bride and groom for starters!”
“The bride and groom
aren’t here?” cried the cook, his hands going to his head in dismay. “We’re
doomed!”
The friar considered
he probably shouldn’t have mentioned that fact as the cook wound his way back
towards the kitchen mumbling “doomed, we’re doomed” the whole way. He didn’t
have much time to deliberate over his faux pas as a harried maid cornered him.
“Friar, I’ve got all
these red, purple and pink flowers, but I have no idea what to do with them!”
The friar’s first
thought was to give some possibly unhelpful suggestions as to exactly where she
could shove them. “How should I know? I’m a friar, not a florist!” he said in
exasperation instead.
Another voice saved
him from further questions from the panic-stricken servant.
“I believe they should
be lining the balcony, two bunches of red peonies to every one bunch of pink
roses with purple gardenias alternating in between.”
The friar looked to
his saviour, a smiling Lord Andrew. Of all the people in the room he appeared
the least harried, nonchalantly sipping a goblet of wine. “Thank you, Lord
Andrew,” said the friar. “I didn’t know you were such an expert on flower arranging.”
“You never know when
it might come in handy being able to tell a dahlia from a freesia,” he said
with a grin.
“Next you’ll be
telling me you’re an authority on roast pheasant sauces.”
“Well, I have been
known to dabble in the kitchen … ”
“Great! I have someone
who’d love to make your acquaintance!”
The friar wrapped his
arm around the shoulders of the lord and led him in the direction of the
kitchen.
…..
Anne quickened her
pace as she walked across the Nottinghamshire hills, glad to be able to do so
now she was no longer chained to Thomas. Though they had managed to separate
the chain, the tools in the old stable had been insufficient to break the
manacles round their ankles. For that they would need a proper smithy. It was
just one more good reason to get back to Markham.
The trees of Sherwood
Forest flanked them to one side as they progressed homewards and Anne knew
they’d need to find some horses soon to have any hope of making it back to
Markham in time for the wedding. She had half a mind to deliberately avoid
doing so and save Beatrice from her fate. Yet for some reason the maid seemed
to love Thomas, despite everything he’d done. Anne supposed people couldn’t
always chose who they fell in love with – she doubted she herself would have
chosen a noblewoman if she’d had any say in it, but her heart had made that
decision for her and who was she to argue.
“What time do you
think it is?” asked Thomas as he ran to catch up.
The sky above was a
clear blue, the sun now over the trees to the west of them. “Just after
midday,” she deduced.
“We’re never going to
make it back in time walking; we need horses.”
“Yes, but unless you
know something I don’t, which is highly unlikely, the nearest settlement is at
least a half hour’s walk from here. Fortunately for you that should still give
us time to make the ride to Markham.”
Thomas nodded and then
proceeded on for a few steps in silence before he piped up again.
“I will prove to you
that I’ve reformed,” he said, “that I can be trusted and relied upon.”
“You don’t need to
prove anything to me,” she replied. “I don’t care what you do as long as you
don’t hurt Katherine … or Beatrice.”
“I would never hurt
Beatrice,” he stated adamantly.
Anne came to a halt
and regarded him sceptically. Realising he needed to qualify the point he
continued.
“I would never hurt
Beatrice again,” he rephrased. “I thank the lord every day that she gave
me another chance, I’m not going to blow it this time. I love her more than
anything and all I want to do is take care of her.”
The sincerity of his
words was obvious. Even when he’d been selling them out to the Ares Syndicate,
deep down Thomas had believed he’d been doing it to provide for Beatrice. Anne
had met enough truly evil and bad people to know Thomas wasn’t one of them.
Misguided and easily led maybe, but at heart not a bad person. Now it was her
turn to be the good person, the one she strived to be for Katherine. She’d
carried a grudge against her parents around for years, letting it fester and
grow. There wasn’t much point carrying one against Thomas when the two people
more affected had already forgiven him.
She sighed. “Fine, I’m
willing to give you another chance. But make no mistake this will be your last.
Step out of line again and it will be the last step you take.”
Thomas gave a nervous
gulp. “Understood. Anyway I think Beatrice would do the job for you if I dared
do something wrong again.”
Anne laughed at the
accuracy of the statement – there would most likely be nothing left for her to
punish once Beatrice had finished tearing him to bits. “Are you sure you want
to marry her?” she asked jokingly.
“I’ve never been surer
of anything in my life.”
His devotion was
admirable if nothing else. They started walking again, but now the ice was
broken, Thomas’ natural chattiness surfaced.
“So what about you?”
“Me?” queried Anne,
not quite getting the reference.
“Have you ever thought
about marriage?”
Anne wondered if she’d
been too hasty forgiving him. Maybe she should at least have waited until they
got back to Markham. “I can’t say as I have,” she replied.
“What, not even with
Lady Katherine?”
“In case you hadn’t
noticed we are two women. And anyway why would I need someone else’s
blessing to ratify our relationship. I love Katherine, that’s all that
matters.”
Before Thomas could
pursue the point further, movement ahead of them registered in Anne’s
peripheral vision. She looked to see a group of four men busily digging in the
middle of the next field. That wouldn’t have been such an unusual sight apart
from the fact these men looked more like mercenaries than farmers and appeared
to be digging random holes dotted across the landscape rather than furrows for
planting. Anne was reminded of a similar scene from a couple of months
previously near the ransacked village of Eaton. It couldn’t be a coincidence.
“What the hell are
they up to?” asked Thomas having spotted them too.
“No good,” stated
Anne.
She was off and
running as she spoke, hoping to make their element of surprise count. It was
the only advantage they had since neither of them carried any weapons. Even
Anne’s normally trusty boot dagger was missing, obviously having been removed
by Benedict and his cronies. Unfortunately the open landscape provided little
cover and the men spied the advancing pair before they got close. After some
hastily exchanged words the men surprised Anne by turning and running for the
forest. Perhaps they didn’t realise their pursuers weren’t armed, nor that one
of them was well acquainted with that forest and its hiding places. Anne
hurtled on after them with Thomas close in her wake.
The trees were sparse
enough in that part of the forest for Anne to see the men splitting into two
groups ahead of them. The first pair ran north towards a dense section of the
forest. Anne quickly realised the likelihood of being able catch up or follow
them through the tangling branches was slim and made a snap decision to pursue
the second pair, heading south. Her experience came in handy as she vaulted
agilely over the obstacles of the forest, gaining on the two men all the time.
Ahead, the boot of one
of the men became tangled in some brambles, bringing him to a halt. As he
tugged to free it Anne seized her opportunity, closing the remainder of the
distance in quick time and flinging herself at him. They crashed down onto the
forest floor amongst the dead leaves and twigs. Out of the corner of her eye
Anne could see the man’s companion turning back to aid his downed comrade.
Luckily Anne had her own backup, with Thomas jumping past her and launching
himself at the second man. Meanwhile her own opponent was drawing a dagger.
Instinctually she flung herself backwards as he slashed for her, managing to
use the momentum of her backward roll to spring to her feet.
The man was up too and
darting for her again. Anne dodged, able to see that Thomas had been felled and
that the second man was also heading her way. The next time her original
opponent lunged at her she caught his arm and swung him bodily round. The
second on-rushing foe ran directly into his compatriot’s dagger, the blade
pushing right into the man’s gut up to the hilt. Blood spurted over Anne’s
hands where they gripped the first man’s sleeve. While he was still in shock at
having stabbed his friend she delivered an elbow to his face. The man staggered
back. The dagger remained where it was, in the stomach of the body crumpling to
the ground now the life had gone from it. Anne moved to press home her
advantage, only she suddenly found her left foot didn’t seem to want to come with
her. The manacle still wrapped round her ankle had become tangled in some
sinuous ivy. The unexpected impediment was enough to trip her up, Anne getting
a face full of leaves as she hit the ground.
She swung round on the
ground, but it was too late, her opponent had recovered enough to retrieve his
dagger and jump for her. His greater mass pinned her to the ground. The dagger
flashed in the sunlight. Suddenly an arrow thumped into the man’s chest. His
eyes bulged, a gurgling cry escaping from his lips.
“Damn it!” cursed Anne
as he fell lifelessly off her.
“Not the sort of
reaction I normally expect for saving a life.”
Anne shot up into a
sitting position. “
The outlaw chief leant
on his bow, offering her one of his customary affable grins. “Hello, Anne.”
Anne smiled back and
clambered to her feet to envelop him in a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
Standing in the warm
embrace, Anne was reminded of her former outlaw life when
“I don’t know,”
replied Anne, “which was one of the reasons I was hoping to catch at least one
of them alive.”
A groan from close by
reminded Anne they weren’t alone. Thomas was sitting up and rubbing gingerly at
his head. Anne looked to
“I don’t suppose you
have any horses do you?”
……
Back in East Drayton
the ducks on the pond stirred as a fresh bout of pained cries resounded round
the village from one particular home. Inside that abode Katherine mopped at the
brow of the panting Matilda.
“You’re doing great,”
Katherine reassured her.
Matilda gazed wearily
at her. Sweat coated her brow, her bedraggled hair stuck to it in places. “How
much longer?” she asked beseechingly.
“Not long now.” In
reality Katherine thought it could be some time, but the young woman didn’t
need to know that. She just needed to take it one contraction at a time until
they got there.
By her side Tobias
hovered, but Katherine could sense he was uncomfortable with the whole
situation. Whenever Katherine needed to check between Matilda’s legs he would
shy away and look decidedly queasy. She would never have taken him for the
squeamish sort given the number of battles he’d been in during his time as a
knight, but then watching something the size of a large marrow being squeezed
out of a woman’s vagina was slightly different to watching an arm being hacked
off with a sword. Of course Tobias would never admit his unease and he was
trying his best to be helpful and supportive. Katherine decided to put him out
of his misery.
“Why don’t you go and
get us some fresh water,” she suggested to the knight.
He didn’t question the
order, more than happy to leave the two women to it. When Katherine looked back
to the young woman she was shaking her head.
“I still can’t believe
I have the lady of the manor as my midwife,” she said. “John will never believe
it! Trust him to miss this!”
“Someone’s gone to
fetch him,” Katherine said in relation to the young woman’s husband, “but one
of the other men said he’d seen him heading out to the east pasture this
morning, so it might be a while.”
“Bloody typical! Men,
eh? Can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”
Katherine thought it
best not to comment. Luckily Matilda was keen to carry on her gabbling chat,
probably as a means of distraction. “So what was the lady of the manor doing
hanging around East Drayton and not in many clothes at that?”
Katherine glanced down
at herself realising that she’d never got the chance to change what with one
thing and another. “I’m not sure you’d believe me if I told you.”
Another contraction
rocked Matilda before she got the chance to press. A couple of minutes of
groaning and panting later she flopped listlessly back down on her bed.
“I could do with an
interesting story to take my mind off things,” she groaned.
Katherine obliged,
exaggerating somewhat to make the tale of Beatrice’s party and their subsequent
stranding as colourful as possible. It had the desired effect with Matilda
grinning and laughing at various points throughout. At the end Matilda tilted
her head to the corner of her home.
“I have some spare
clothes if you want to borrow something. We’re about the same size, or at least
we would have been when I didn’t have this demon spawn swelling my belly to the
size of a house.” She rubbed at her bulging stomach as she spoke.
“Thank you,” said
Katherine, “that’s very kind of you to offer.”
After a quick search
through the other woman’s garments, Katherine selected a plain top. She paused
for a moment as she began to unbutton her thin vest.
“I won’t look if you
want to change,” Matilda quickly said.
Katherine laughed and
shook her head. “I think we’re beyond any kind of modesty now!”
She undid the rest of
the buttons and pulled the top on before fastening the vest back over the top
of it, feeling far more comfortable now her breasts weren’t virtually on
display. She was back by Matilda’s side just in time to hold her hand as the
next contraction shook her body. Once it had subsided and the feeling had
started to return to Katherine’s crushed fingers, Matilda resumed her
questions.
“Did you and his
lordship never want any children?”
Katherine frowned and
wondered what was keeping Tobias.
“I’m sorry,” Matilda
added having seen the less than enthusiastic reaction. “I’ve overstepped my
bounds, I didn’t mean offence. My mother always said I was too nosey for my own
good.” Her sentence was ended with a fresh groan and she shifted to try and get
in a more comfortable position.
Seeing her discomfort,
Katherine was minded to be magnanimous. “It’s fine,” she said. “We did, but it
just never happened.”
Matilda shifted again,
wincing as she did. “You can have this one if you want, little bugger!”
Katherine smiled. “I’m
sure when he or she is born you’ll hold their tiny body, look into their eyes
and all this pain will quickly be forgotten and replaced by the love you feel.”
“Do you promise?”
“My sister told me
that’s how she felt and I was there when both her children were born.”
“I wondered how you
knew so much,” Matilda noted, “though I’m very grateful you do!”
Another contraction
came, Katherine realising they were getting closer together. A quick check
verified the proper midwife wasn’t going to make it on time.
“Right, Matilda, now
you’re going to need to push,” Katherine said calmly. Seeing a panicked look
from the woman on hearing this, she added. “You can do it, I’m right here with
you.”
“Oh, God! I can’t!”
wailed Matilda.
Katherine reached up
to take the anxious woman’s hand for a moment. She waited for Matilda to look
at her, holding her gaze with a look of quiet confidence. “You can,” she
stated. “Trust me, I’m a lady.”
Matilda took a deep
breath, composing herself for the final stage. “All right, let’s do it.”
Letting go, Katherine
moved back down between the other woman’s legs. Matilda bore down, straining.
There were several minutes of pushing and screaming and a fair bit of cursing,
but finally the baby’s head crowned. All the time Katherine offered quiet words
of encouragement. The sight truly was an amazing one to behold even if she had
seen it a couple of times before. First the head, then the shoulders and finally
the rest of the body were squeezed out. Katherine drew the blood-caked baby to
her, the relieving sound of crying ringing round the small house. Behind her
she heard a thump, swinging round to see Tobias had just come back in and
promptly fainted on the floor.
Thinking he was big
enough to look after himself, she gently wrapped a fresh blanket round the baby
and handed it to Matilda. “It’s a girl,” she said, unable to keep the grin off
her face.
Accepting the small
bundle, Matilda drew her close. Katherine had been right, one look at her new
baby and Matilda was lost, everything that had gone before already a dim
recollection. Katherine thought she ought to leave them alone for a moment and
was just rising when Matilda caught her hand.
“Thank you,” she said
sincerely.
“You’re welcome.”
“I’m going to call her
Katherine, if that’s all right?”
Katherine suddenly
found it hard to speak, merely nodding her approval at first. Finally she
engaged her vocal chords, after she had cleared the huge lump from her throat.
“I think it’s lovely, a very noble name.”
She gave one last
smile before stepping over the downed Tobias to get some fresh air. It was
still a gorgeous day outside, the sun warm on her skin as she found a quite
spot to sit on the grass and close her eyes for a moment. Even if the whole
thing was messy and bloody and visceral there was just something re-affirming
and refreshing about the primal nature of childbirth. There was none of the
falseness of her recent dealings with nobles, trying to get them to sign on to
their trade alliance and find ways to protect her lands from the increased
outlaw activity. All that pandering to inflated egos, offering platitudes with
a plastered on smile was draining after a while. It was good to reconnect with
the every day lives of her people, remind herself what she was doing it all
for.
The sound of movement
led her to open her eyes. A sheepish looking Beatrice was before her.
“Nice of you to rejoin
us,” commented Katherine.
“I’m still not going
through with it.”
“Oh for God’s sake,”
said Katherine, having no time for the other woman’s pre-wedding jitters after
what she’d just been through with Matilda. She got to her feet. “You and I are
going to Markham right now and you are going to walk up that aisle even if I
have to kick your arse up it.”
Beatrice looked rather
taken aback. “Aren’t you meant to be understanding and reassuring and all
that?”
“Not when you’re being
ridiculous. You love Thomas don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve been
wanting to get married to him for what, the last two years or so?”
“About that.”
“And now all of a
sudden you don’t want to because…?”
“Er … well … I … ”
“Exactly,” said
Katherine, cutting her off, “no good reason.”
“I suppose not,”
agreed Beatrice reluctantly. “You must remind me to return the favour of your
sympathetic pre-wedding words when it’s your turn.”
“You might be waiting
a while.”
“You’re not going to
make an honest woman of Anne then?”
“I can’t get married
to Anne, you know that.”
“What because the
church says so?” queried Beatrice. “The same church who says your whole
relationship is a sin?”
“Is this part of your
revenge already?”
“I’m just pointing out
that you should broaden your thinking, who says it needs to be a religious
wedding?”
“I am a Christian,”
pointed out Katherine.
“But Anne’s not,”
Beatrice reminded her. “What do pagans do anyway? Do they even have marriage?”
“You know, I don’t
know. I guess I never thought about it because I knew it couldn’t happen. But
you’re right, maybe there are other ways …”
“Should I start
preparing my bridesmaid’s dress?” Beatrice teased her.
“Funny, but I think we
need to get you in a bride’s one first … once we’ve woken Tobias up.”
….
As Katherine had
surmised it took them roughly an hour to make the walk back to Markham Manor.
Only when she stepped in through the large oak doors she almost wished she
hadn’t made it back. Inside the hall it was mayhem. The hall was often crowded,
but now it was positively heaving. Obviously no-one had had the good sense to
try and organise the wedding in her absence, or if they did they weren’t very
good at it. Before she even got two steps in the door she was buffeted by a
barrage of questions. Fending them off she directed Beatrice to head upstairs
to get changed. Katherine was tempted to follow her to the relative seclusion
of her quarters, but someone needed to take command of the situation and that
was what she was best at after all.
One by one she
addressed each question, directing people to where they should be and what they
should be doing. By the time she got to the back of the hall her earlier
adventures were long forgotten, replaced by a buzzing head full of wedding
paraphernalia. She barely had time to take a breath before the kitchen door
swung open next to her. However, rather than a stressed cook as she was
expecting, the friar and Lord Andrew of all people emerged. The young lord was
casually brushing some flour off his otherwise smart and immaculate clothes
with one hand while holding a goblet of wine in the other. He looked like he
was having far too much fun, whereas the friar looked like he was about at the
end of this tether. His slightly manic eyes settled on Katherine.
“You’re back! Thank
the Lord!”
“I take it things have
not been going well?” she asked.
“Don’t even get me
started!”
Despite the
exasperated exclamation, Katherine thought there was a prompt in the remark,
like the friar actually couldn’t wait to have a good whinge. Knowing she’d be
lucky to get out of there by midnight if she invited him to, Katherine decided
to take him at his word.
“Well, I am back now,
so why don’t you get off to the church and get ready. Beatrice is off changing
so we should still just about be on time.”
“As long as the groom
turns up,” muttered the friar.
Katherine looked to
him in surprise. “Thomas isn’t here?”
“No, neither is Anne.
Apparently the other guards played some sort of trick on them, dumped them out
in the countryside somewhere.”
“I think I need to
have a word to some of my guards about appropriate behaviour,” remarked
Katherine. Though there was no real cause for concern, she couldn’t help
wondering if Anne was all right. Most likely they’d just ended up further away
then Katherine and Beatrice and were still on the way back. “For now we’ll
assume Thomas and Anne will be here on time,” she stated.
The friar nodded and
started to move off, but Katherine caught his arm. “And if you see Beatrice not
a word about Thomas not being back yet.”
“Yes, Milady.”
Once the clergyman had
departed, Katherine turned to Andrew who was lounging against the wall, coolly
sipping his wine.
“It looks like you’ve
been helping out in more ways than one,” she remarked.
“Turning my hand to a
cranberry pheasant sauce makes a nice change to all the hob-nobbing we’ve been
doing recently,” he replied with a grin.
“Tell me about it!”
she agreed. “To tell you the truth all this madness today has been a nice
diversion from having to worry about the latest lord we need to try and
please.”
“In that case I hate
to spoil your day and mention that we’ve been invited to Stratford in three
weeks time – lords from Nottinghamshire, Warwickshire and the rest of the
midlands will be there, so it’ll be a good chance to further our cause.”
Katherine groaned. “I
suppose it’s too good an opportunity to pass up.” The prospect filled her with
mixed emotions. Though Stratford was her childhood home, she’d not been back
since Robert had been deposed as lord the year before. What with the
revelations about both him and her father the place didn’t hold quite the
appeal it once did. It was as if the house itself was somehow tarnished by
their deeds. Still they needed to further their alliance, particular since the
attacks on her land seemed to be on the increase.
As if reading her
mind, Andrew’s next comment was in regards to that. “I agree we should attend;
we need to strengthen our defences. Has your man found out anything about the
attacks in the west of your land yet?”
Katherine shook her
head. “Philip Archer hasn’t been able to uncover anything yet, other than that
it appears to be outlaws”
“You don’t sound
convinced.”
She shook her head.
“My personal guard thinks that’s just a cover and I tend to agree.” She
remembered not to refer to Anne directly by name since doing so would be a far
too familiar a form of expression in front of the other noble. Though she and
Andrew had developed a good friendship in a surprisingly short time, that
didn’t extend to her confiding her secret to him. Enough people knew it
already, better to try and restrict the knowledge as much as she still
could.
Seeing her pensive
look, Andrew offered a comforting hand on the shoulder. “Either way I’m sure
we’ll uncover the truth.”
“This looks very
cosy.”
Katherine almost
jumped at the sound of the voice, whirling round to see Anne regarding the pair
of them suspiciously. Andrew quickly removed his hand.
“You’re back,” said
Katherine, stating the obvious. For some reason she felt guilty even though she
and Andrew had just been talking.
“Just in time it
seems.”
Katherine couldn’t
fail to detect the icy edge to her tone, but chose to ignore it. “Is Thomas
with you too?” she asked glancing round the hall.
“Of course, did you
think he wouldn’t be?”
Katherine’s brow
furrowed at the cool remark. “No, I’m just anxious that we get this wedding
going.”
“He’s over there,”
said Anne, pointing to the near the door.
Following her finger,
Katherine saw the fair-haired young man engaged in conversation with the friar.
What she also couldn’t fail to notice was Thomas sporting the beginnings of a
black eye. She glanced back to Anne, noticing for the first time the slight
scrape down her cheek, partly hidden by her blond hair. Anne’s animosity to
Thomas was well-known and Katherine had to wonder if they’d actually come to
blows. At least they were both back in one piece even if both of them also had
a manacle round their ankle. Katherine deemed it wasn’t the best time to
discuss any of those points, not when Anne appeared to be in one of her
fractious moods and Katherine patience was similarly worn thin.
Instead Anne turned
back to Katherine and Andrew. “So, what were you two talking about?” The reason
for the young woman’s frosty attitude was obvious from the way she flicked a
disdainful glance at Andrew as she asked her question.
“We were just
discussing our supposed outlaw activity,” Katherine stated, deciding honesty
was the best policy to combat Anne’s ridiculous jealousy.
“I see, and what is
Lord Andrew’s learned opinion on this?”
Anne’s sarcastic tone
immediately caused a nervous flutter in Katherine’s stomach. She really didn’t
need this now.
“I’m sure Philip
Archer will investigate thoroughly and determine the culprits,” said Andrew
diplomatically.
Anne merely let out a
scoffing laugh. “Right, because he’s been doing such a great job. What have we
learnt so far? Let me see … that would be nothing. You should let me take a
detachment of troops out there and track these guys down whoever they are.” She
lowered her tone to a more deadly one to make her violent intent obvious. “I’ll
make them tell us what they’re up to.”
Katherine had to
wonder if Anne really believed in what she was suggesting or if she was merely
saying it to take an opposite and controversial stance to Andrew.
To his credit, Andrew
didn’t rise to her combative tone, carrying on in an even, reasonable voice.
“Might that course of action not be dangerous if you don’t know who you’re
dealing with first?” he pointed out.
Anne rounded on him.
“Why don’t you stick to your wine and let those who know what they’re talking
about deal with matters of security.”
“Anne!” cried
Katherine at the blatant insult.
Andrew quickly spoke
up himself. “No, it’s all right,” he allowed, “I’m willing to defer to
experience. I’m sure Anne knows the mindset of these outlaws better than I could
ever hope to.”
Katherine cringed at
his words. She knew he was just trying to be diplomatic, but unfortunately she
could tell Anne wasn’t in the mood for it.
“And what’s that
supposed to mean?” demanded the young woman.
“Nothing, I merely
meant your insight could give us an edge.”
Anne’s face darkened
further. “There is no us,” she said in a slow deadly tone. “Last I
checked this was Markham of which you are not lord.”
Katherine had heard
enough and reached out to take Anne by the arm. “Anne, may I speak with you?”
The way she said it didn’t require an answer. She led the other woman out to
the back corridor, which was thankfully quiet, allowing her to say exactly what
was on her mind.
“What are you doing?”
she demanded. “Why are you being deliberately antagonistic to Andrew, he’s on
our side.”
“So you say, I’m
keeping an open mind.”
Katherine rolled her
eyes at the young woman’s intransigence. “Andrew is our ally. I would thank you
to be polite to him and also not to bad-mouth my knights in front of him or
anyone else for that matter.”
“Oh, sorry, is that an
order?”
“If it has to be,”
snapped back Katherine. It was as if Anne was deliberately trying to start a
fight. All the time Katherine was aware of time slipping on, time she should be
spending organising a hundred and one things for the wedding. “I know when you
were an outlaw you did pretty much what you wanted, but here there are rules
and standards to follow.”
“Especially when we
have people to impress?” questioned Anne. “Don’t want me making you look bad in
front of your new best friend?”
Katherine’s tether was
fast reaching its end. “Is this what all this is about, your jealousy?”
“No, it’s about me
trying to look out for Markham since you seem too busy schmoozing with nobles to
bother!”
“And you seem too busy
fighting first and asking questions later to make a rational judgement!” said
Katherine angrily. “And while we’re on the subject of poor judgement, you don’t
need to spy on me everywhere I go – sending bloody Tobias to follow me at
Beatrice’s party!”
“Pardon me for being
concerned for your welfare.”
“Your concern is
stifling!”
The silence that
followed Katherine’s outburst was equally stifling. Not having the time or
patience at that moment to save a conversation that seemed past redemption,
Katherine thought it best to draw it to a close.
“Lord Andrew is our
ally so you will be polite to him and Philip Archer will continue his
investigation into the outlaw activity for now.”
“And I think that’s a
mistake,” pressed Anne, not having the good sense to drop it.
“So noted,” said
Katherine, barely moving her lips as the words came out in a low deadly tone,
“but in this matter I am the lady of the manor and you are my guard so my
decision is final.”
Anne gave a small snort
of derision. “Oh, I see that’s what it comes down to is it? I’m just another
one of your underlings to be ordered around? Fine, whatever you say, Milady.”
Without another word,
Anne turned on her heel and marched off down the corridor.
…..
Climbing the stairs to
her quarters, Katherine tried to put the argument with Anne out of her mind. It
wasn’t the first time they’d exchanged heated words and she doubted it would be
the last. The fieriness and passion was part of the appeal of their
relationship. She could just have done with out any fire that particular day.
As she pushed open the door to her room she immediately heard the sniffling
noise of crying. For a moment she contemplated turning on her heel and making a
break for it – let them sort out the wedding themselves while she found a nice
jug of wine to hide in. Not being one to shirk a challenge, Katherine proceeded
on inside. At the sound of her footfalls on the floorboards Beatrice swivelled
round on her seat in front of Katherine’s mirror. She was now in her wedding
dress, a simple but beautiful plain white dress that rested on her shoulders
and flowed about her feet. With Beatrice’s dark hair contrasting it she looked
gorgeous. However, the effect was marred somewhat by the tears tracking freely
down her cheeks.
Katherine was quickly
by her side, managing to find room to sit next to her on the stool. “Shh, it’s
all right,” she said while wrapping a comforting arm around the young woman’s
trembling shoulders. Beatrice continued to cry, pitiful shuddering breaths
coming in between the tears. “Forget what I said earlier about kicking you up
the aisle,” Katherine said, feeling bad about those words now it seemed there
was more to it than simple nerves. “If you really don’t want to go through with
it, you don’t have to. I can go down there and tell everyone to bugger off.”
“No!” cried Beatrice,
suddenly clutching at Katherine to stop her leaving. “I do want to go through
with it.”
Katherine had to
repeat it to make sure she had heard right. “You want to get married?” Beatrice
simply nodded. “Then why are you crying?” asked a confused Katherine.
“I don’t know!”
Katherine just shook
her head. Sometimes women were the strangest creatures to try and understand.
….
By the time Katherine
finally got to the church she couldn’t believe it was only mid-afternoon – the
day seemed to have gone on forever. A few guests were milling around outside in
the churchyard, waiting for the last moment to proceed on inside. It was
probably a wise move – the church would be crowded and that many people jammed
inside the stone building on a warm day could provide quite the fragrant
experience. Considering as much, Katherine decided it would be equally wise for
her to wait too. She spotted a local lord she knew standing in the shade of one
of the large yew trees and crossed to join him while they all waited for the
bride. Beatrice was still back at the house, putting the last touches to her
dress before her father walked her to the short distance to the church.
“It’s nice to see you
here, Egbert,” said Katherine in greeting to the lord.
The short man smiled
in return. “Thank you for inviting me.” His eyes took in Katherine’s dress, a
pale blue summer one, short in the sleeve. “You’re looking as lovely as ever.
You’ll have to be careful not to upstage the bride!”
Katherine chuckled at
the flattery. Egbert was an unashamed flirt, but mostly harmless. “And you look
very handsome too.” It was a slight fudging of the truth. Though his clothes
were fine, the thick rich red cloth was somewhat unsuitable for the season and
his face was flushed despite his hiding in the shade.
Now it was his turn to
laugh. “I look like a bloody stuffed pig!” He dabbed at his sweaty brow with a
handkerchief. “So might we be expecting it to be you strolling down the aisle
next time?”
She gave a
good-natured shake of the head. “I don’t think so,” she said while wondering
while everyone was asking her about marriage today. Was it that shocking a
concept, a woman her age being unwed?
“Well, you never know,”
he continued, “a beautiful woman like you, I’m sure you must have plenty of
offers. It’s about time Markham had another lord.”
As he said it
Katherine sensed movement behind her. Swinging her head round she saw some of
her guards on the grassy path. They were definitely close enough to have heard
the tail-end of the conversation. From within the group one pair of blue eyes
homed in on her. However, as soon as Katherine met the gaze, Anne looked away
without speaking. Before Katherine could even contemplate approaching her, the
young woman marched on into the church with the others. Supposing she ought to
do the same, Katherine excused herself from Egbert and walked on in through the
porch.
The interior was as
packed as Katherine had suspected; both Thomas and Beatrice were well liked
around the estate. Automatically Katherine sought out one head in particular
amongst the crowd, spotting Anne standing to one side of the church with a
couple of other guards. Her eyes were resolutely trained forward, staring at
the altar. They didn’t flick in Katherine’s direction once as she made her way
to her seat in the front row. Though she sat jammed onto a full pew with
chatter echoing round her, the sense of aloneness was profound.
Considering how the
rest of the day had gone Katherine half-expected some disaster to befall the
ceremony itself. She was especially nervous when the time for any objections
came given what had happened the last time she’d attended a wedding in the
church. Luckily this time there were no presumed-dead husband’s making a guest
appearance. All in all everything went surprisingly smoothly and when the friar
finally invited Thomas to kiss his new bride a spontaneous round of applause
rippled round the room. Just along from Katherine, Beatrice’s mother burst into
tears of joy. Katherine had to dab some dampness from her own eyes too.
Once back outside
Katherine noted that the group of guards including Anne had already made their
way back through the village to the manor house. Thomas and Beatrice were still
in the churchyard, though, receiving congratulations from all and sundry.
Feeling glum just didn’t seem right on such a joyous occasion and Katherine
mentally shook herself. This was Thomas and Beatrice’s big day, she should be
happy; she was happy. She just had to forget everything else and embrace that
fact. Thomas was sharing a joke with one
of his family, so Katherine collared Beatrice first. She hugged the young woman
to her. “Glad you went through with it after all?” she whispered as she did.
Pulling back, Beatrice
couldn’t keep the smile from her face. It had been a permanent fixture since
she’d stepped in the door to the church and on up the aisle. “Very, very glad,”
she said. “Thank God you didn’t just leave me in Drayton this morning!”
“I was determined to
get your happy ending for you, even if you weren’t!”
“I’ll have to repay
the favour some time,” Beatrice noted, “especially since you’re almost as
stubborn as I am when it comes to the matters of the heart.”
Thankfully Thomas
joined them at that moment, saving Katherine from another discussion of Anne.
It wasn’t going to help her resolution to be upbeat and cheery if she kept
cropping up in conversation. The guard wrapped his arm around Beatrice’s waist
and gave her a kiss on the cheek. The blue and gold of his uniform was bright
next to the white of the young woman’s dress. They made a striking couple and
Katherine felt their infectious good humour enveloping her too.
“Congratulations,
Thomas,” she said with a grin. “I know you two will be very happy together.”
“Thank you,” he
replied, “and thank you also for making sure my wife made it to the church on
time.” A smile crossed his face as he said the words. “That sounds so good – my
wife. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying it.” He turned to Beatrice
this time as he savoured the repetition. “My wife.”
Beatrice pulled him in
for a kiss, making Katherine suddenly feel like a bit of gooseberry. She
averted her eyes to look at the fascinating leaf formations in the tree next to
them.
Slowly the remainder
of the congregation de-camped from the church and filtered back over to the
manor house for the ensuing celebrations. By the time Katherine stepped into
the hall it seemed quite a few people had made good use of their head start on
her with the drink freely flowing and the discourse loud. She hadn’t even made
it to her seat at the top table before someone had pressed a goblet of wine
into her hand.
The hall was full to
brimming, all the spaces at the long table taken and a number of people having
to hover round the fringes. One of them was Anne who was cradling her own
goblet of wine close as she stood on her own to one side. Her eyes surveyed the
room. Even today, when friends and family surrounded them, she was alert to
danger. However, not once did she look to the head of the hall.
“I think you’re next
to me, Milady,” came a voice interrupting Katherine’s study of the other woman.
It was Beatrice’s
father, who held out her seat expectantly. He was a small greying man
completely dwarfed in both stature and presence by his wife. For once he’d
managed to get a word in since Beatrice’s mother was currently berating one of
the maids for bringing the wrong wine. Her booming voice resounded over even
the loud chatter of the hall. Her husband gave an apologetic yet resigned
shrug, having seen it all before.
“She just wants it all
to be right,” he whispered to Katherine as she sat.
Katherine could
certainly see which side of the family Beatrice took after as the poor maid finally
scuttled back off to the kitchen. With everyone seated a number of speeches
followed, the highlight of which was Beatrice’s mother forsaking tradition and
speaking up rather than her husband. The woman had obviously indulged in a few
goblets of wine since the speech became increasingly ribald as it progressed.
On the other side of Katherine, Beatrice was squirming in her seat as her
mother started on a tale of how the young woman had been caught in a
compromising position in the village milking shed when she was sixteen. For a
moment Katherine thought they were going to get a graphic blow-by-blow account,
but fortunately Beatrice’s father stepped in. There were some loud
protestations at the interruption, but eventually he persuaded his wife that sitting
down and letting him finish was best.
After the speeches
came the dinner, with a procession of maids and servants delivering plates
piled high with sumptuous meats. Katherine had to admit that the cook had
outdone himself with the food. She would have told him as much, but he seemed
more intent on wooing one of the maids. Not that he appeared to be doing
particularly well, with the conversation at the far end of the room ending in a
resounding slap round the face for the obviously drunk cook. Unperturbed by the
rebuke, he turned his attentions to the next nearest maid.
Katherine continued
her survey of the room, trying not to let her eyes fall where she knew they
wanted to. Throughout proceedings she’d been unable to stop herself glancing to
Anne, much to her own consternation. Even more galling was that each time the
young woman’s attention was elsewhere. Not once did meet Katherine’s eye, even
when Katherine held her stare longer than was appropriate. She knew Anne must
have sensed the perusal and was being deliberately stubborn. Katherine decided
she could be stubborn too. She picked up her goblet and downed its contents.
Why shouldn’t she have fun like everyone else?
And everyone else
certainly was intent on doing so. With the meal finished and the tables cleared
to the sides, the minstrels appeared to ply their musical trade. It wasn’t long
before the hall rocked to the sound of dancing feet. Katherine just watched to
begin with, glad to see the hall filled with joy and good cheer. However, she wasn’t
left alone with her thoughts for long as the friar approached.
“Katherine, would you
care for a dance?” he asked. From his exuberance and slight slur to his words
she could tell he too had celebrating whole-heartedly
Not that she was sober
by any means herself. She gave a small curtsey as she stood. “Why, thank you,
Edward, that would be lovely.”
Her assessment of his
condition proved accurate as he stomped on her feet a number of times as they
spun round the room. She didn’t have the heart to mention it today, though.
“I never thought we’d
get here,” he remarked over the music.
“What, me and you
dancing round the hall?”
“Don’t tease a poor
tipsy friar! You know full well what I mean – despite your best efforts to get
lost in the countryside and drown yourself in a duck pond we got them up the
aisle.”
“You heard about that
then?” asked Katherine supposing she shouldn’t really be surprised given the
friar’s penchant for gossip.
“Oh yes, so I have
plenty of ammunition to tease you back if you try any more of that cheeky stuff!”
Katherine just laughed
at the friendly banter. Not many commoners would risk speaking to a noble in
the way the friar did, but then they’d known each other for years and Katherine
wasn’t the sort to chuck someone in the dungeon just for speaking out of turn.
Before she could retort their dancing progress round the room was halted as
another couple stumbled into them. The cook and his partner bounced backwards,
staggered and then tumbled to the floor in a drunken heap. The rotund man just
lay there giggling to himself as the latest maid to garner his attention
attempted to disentangle herself.
“I don’t think anyone
will be getting breakfast tomorrow,” noted the friar to Katherine.
“I don’t think much of
anything will be getting done tomorrow,” said Katherine.
“True,” agreed the
friar, “but then it is traditional to get well and truly smashed at a wedding.”
“It seems some other
wedding traditions are being upheld in fine style too,” said Katherine as they
continued on round the room. “Embarrassing relatives,” she noted as the twirled
past Beatrice’s mother, “bad dancing,” she commented as the friar stubbed her
toe once more, “strange couplings,” she added as they narrowly avoided tripping
over the cook and maid who had given up on getting up and were busy kissing
instead while sitting on the floor.
“And of course we mustn’t forget people
arguing and not speaking to one another,” said the friar. This time his eyes
went from Katherine to a dark corner of the hall. Katherine didn’t need to
follow the gaze, she’d already identified that was where Anne was loitering a
good ten minutes previously.
The friar was too
drunk to notice his comment had received a cool and silent reception. Finally
there was a break in the music and the friar stepped back to give a bow, though
Katherine was worried he was going to topple over as he did. “Thank you,
Milady.”
If Katherine thought
her feet were going to get a break, she was disappointed. No sooner had the
friar swayed off in search of more refreshment then another figure came
stumbling in her direction.
“It must be my turn
for a dance!”
Andrew’s arm wrapped
around her shoulders. He was quite obviously drunk, as much evident by the way
he was practically using her to stay upright. Fortunately Katherine was saved
from her burden as someone else came in to support the swaying lord from the
other side.
“Apologies, Milady, I
think my lord may have had a little too much celebratory drink.”
Managing to disengage
herself, Katherine saw that it was a guard addressing her. He wore the green
and yellow colours of Andrew’s estate at Bingham. Katherine hadn’t spotted him
before during the party, which she supposed was the sign of a good guard, being
inconspicuous until he was actually needed. He was fairly young, around the
same age as Andrew himself. Like Andrew he was clean-shaven and what would be
considered good-looking if you were into handsome young men. He flashed
Katherine a quick smile.
“I should probably get
him back to his room.”
That proved easier
said than done as the young guard tried to guide his master away. Andrew
dangled off the other man, barely able to stand. At one point he managed to
drag himself up and whisper something to the guard. The young man blushed and
quickened his pace across the room.
“What did you do to
that poor young man?”
Katherine swung to see
her sister watching her with suggestively raised eyebrows.
“Nothing!” declared
Katherine.
“Maybe that was the
problem,” noted Phillipa. “I saw him watching you dancing with the friar with
those hungry young eyes of his.”
Katherine simply
rolled her eyes.
“Oh yes, I forgot,
your tastes don’t swing that way anymore do they?” said Phillipa. “Mind if I
have a go instead, he is rather delicious.”
“Phillipa! You’re married!”
“Yes, but it’s a
wedding people expect these things to happen.”
Katherine could only
gape at her.
“I’m joking!” cried
Phillipa. “You always were too easy to tease.”
In a further reminder
of her childhood Katherine was unable to resist poking her tongue out. She
blamed the drink.
“Talking of the past,”
said Phillipa, “Has Godric from Stratford been in contact with you.”
“We’ve got an invite
to visit in a few weeks time, but other than that no.”
“Maybe he was going to
mention it to you then,” said Phillipa thoughtfully.
“Mention what?”
“Apparently since
Robert’s demise there have been a few people crawling out of the woodwork
making claims on the Stratford estate.”
“What sort of claims
exactly?” asked Katherine.
“I don’t know the full
details, but you know the sort of thing.”
Katherine did know.
Whenever an estate was in upheaval like Stratford currently was, often people
claiming some sort of familial connection that deserved an inheritance or at
least a pay off crawled out of the woodwork. Robert had never mentioned any
family, but then he hadn’t proved to be the most trustworthy of people. Quite
possibly he’d had some dalliances that were just now coming to light.
“I guess I’ll have to
speak to Godric when I see him, see if he needs any help dealing with the
parasites.” Though she had no duty to do so, Katherine still felt responsible
for Stratford. It was the estate she might have governed in another lifetime.
“Anyway, enough of
that serious business,” said Phillipa, “it must be time for a song!”
Katherine groaned,
fearing she would be asked to participate.
“Come on,” said
Phillipa as she hooked Katherine’s arm, “you need to have a word with your
minstrels.”
The dancers in the
centre of the hall were harried out of the way by Phillipa who was intent on
her course. Katherine could only allow herself to be dragged along in her wake.
The minstrels were reluctant to relinquish their position initially, but the
promise of free food and drink quickly persuaded them otherwise. However, with
them all gone it was down to Katherine to provide backing to Phillipa’s star
turn. At least Phillipa was content for Katherine to play the lute rather than
forcing her to sing. Even with everyone pretty much drunk by this stage,
Katherine didn’t want to inflict that pain on them.
At least from her new
vantage point up on the stage, Katherine had a better view of the whole room.
Anne leant against the wall right at the back, looking like she was still
nursing the same drink as earlier. As Phillipa started her song the young woman
listened with everyone else, though her attention was focussed just off to the
side of the stage rather than on the people on it. Eventually Katherine
strummed the last few notes and applause rang round the room. Anne simply
turned and ducked out the rear door.
Phillipa leant close
to Katherine. “Looks like I’m not going to get a song out of her this time.”
Obviously she had noticed the young woman’s departure too.
“It appears not,” said
Katherine as she handed the lute back to one of the minstrels and stepped off
the stage. Phillipa wasn’t letting her get away that easily, though. She
followed Katherine off to the side of the room as the dancing started up once
more.
“So who started it?”
asked Phillipa.
“Sorry?”
“The argument you two
have obviously had, what was it about?”
Katherine shook her
head. “It was just a silly disagreement.”
“In that case why are
you still in here while she’s out there?”
“Because she started
it!” cried Katherine. Again she blamed the drink for making her spout stupid
childish things.
Phillipa took an
equally dim view of the petulant words. “I could have sworn your turned forty
this year rather than four.”
“And don’t you just
love reminding me of that fact!”
“Forget about that –
just get out there and talk to her.”
Katherine’s mouth
opened and closed a couple of times in an attempt to object, but she quickly
realised what Phillipa was ordering her to do was what she wanted to do
anyway.
….
Anne leant back
against the wall of the house and turned her eyes up to sky. The sun had
finally disappeared over the horizon, bringing to a close what had proved to be
a long and trying day. She let out a slow sigh. She knew she had mainly herself
to blame for feeling left out of the celebrations. After the tiring long slog
back with Thomas she’d let the green-eyed monster overtake her when she’d seen
Katherine and Andrew talking. Afterwards at the church and during the party
she’d wanted to say something, but it didn’t seem like the right time, not when
everyone, including Katherine, seemed to be enjoying themselves so much. So
instead she’d distanced herself, withdrawing to the margins. Big crowds and
parties had never been her thing anyway. The quiet of the dusky countryside
beyond the high manor walls looked appealing at that moment. She could find
some peace, lose herself to nature. Before she could seriously contemplate
making a break for it, she felt a presence next to her. She didn’t really need
to look. Only one person would have followed her from the celebrations. Anne
glanced to her side, the blue-grey eyes studying her confirming her assumption.
“Come to order me back
inside?” Anne could have kicked herself for the sharp words. When would she
ever learn?
“No, but I can
go back inside if that’s how you’re going to be.”
Katherine started to
move back towards the door. Anne’s hand shot out, clasping the other woman’s
arm to stall her. “No, stay … please.”
The addition of the
final word seemed to be a decisive factor and Katherine turned back to fully
face her. Realising she was still holding on to Katherine’s bare arm, Anne let
her hand drop, not sure how welcome the contact was at the moment.
“It’s been a long
day,” said Katherine, the bland statement not giving Anne any more clues to the
other woman’s disposition.
“Yes, it has,” replied
Anne with equal evenness. No other words were immediately forthcoming and, but
for the sounds of the party filtering out into the evening air, they would have
been standing in pained silence. Anne supposed it was up to her to break the
quiet. “About earlier, with Andrew … “ she began hesitantly, not able to meet
Katherine’s eye. She took a deep breath and went for honesty. “I’m sorry. You
were right - I did let my jealousy get the better of me, amongst other things.”
“I shouldn’t have to
keep reminding you that you have no reason to be jealous,” said Katherine.
Anne rubbed at her
forehead, trying to find the words to express what she felt. “I know, I just
find it hard sometimes to quell my fear.”
“Fear?”
Anne’s eyes slowly
rose to meet the other woman’s. “Of losing you.”
The vulnerability in
Anne’s voice was plain to hear and Katherine’s face softened. Without saying
anything she stepped forward and wrapped Anne up in a hug. Anne sunk into the
embrace, leaning her head against Katherine’s auburn hair and closing her eyes.
She would happily have stayed there all night simply drawing in the essence of
the other woman, but eventually she pulled back, feeling there was more to be
said.
“That’s also why I
asked Tobias to follow you,” Anne explained. “After what happened at the fair
…”
The reminder of how
close Katherine had come to being killed made it hard to continue.
“It’s all right,” said
Katherine, saving from having to do so, “I know you’re just trying to protect me,
but not everything is a threat.”
Anne sighed. “I guess
I’m still having some trouble adjusting to life here after living in the forest
for so long. And sometimes I forget that I can’t always do and say what I
want,” she added in reference to her ill-judged remarks in front of Andrew.
“And I think I forget
sometimes the adjustment you’ve had to make and expect too much of you.”
Katherine reached out to take Anne’s hand. “I’ve lived this way my whole life,
so I’m used to sometimes having to curb your first thoughts and behave in a
certain way if you want to get things done.” She rubbed her thumb over Anne’s
skin for a moment, watching their entwined hands before finally looking back
up, eyes searching Anne’s face. “You are happy here though aren’t you? I would
hate to think I was forcing you into anything.”
“I thought you would
know by now that it’s pretty hard to force me to do anything I don’t want to.”
Katherine laughed,
Anne heartened to hear the sound. She didn’t really like arguing even if it did
happen quite often.
Anne continued. “But,
no, of course I’m happy that I can be here with you and don’t tell Tobias but I
actually enjoy the life of a guard and helping to protect Markham and its
people even if half of them don’t trust me! It’s just sometimes…I don’t
know…it’s like our roles takes over, that we don’t have the time or chance to
just be ourselves.”
“I know how you feel,”
agreed Katherine. “Do you think I like all that preening and pampering of
nobles’ egos?”
“I don’t know,” said
Anne with an edge of humour to her tone, “I think you like it a bit, especially
if it’s yours getting pampered.”
Katherine couldn’t
help smiling. “All right, I guess I can admit that I like a compliment as much
as the next person.”
Anne moved closer, her
hand moving to stroke down Katherine’s arm. “Then I suppose I should pay you
some more to stop you needing as many elsewhere.”
As Anne’s fingers
reached the end of their downward course Katherine caught them and brought
their hands up between them, cupping them tight. “I don’t need anything
elsewhere as long as I have you.” Anne never tired of hearing as much, the warm
familiar glow in the pit of her stomach evidence to that fact. “But I think
you’re right,” Katherine added, “we need to try and devote a bit more time to
ourselves rather than just our duty – we need to have more fun!”
The warm glow started
to build as Anne contemplated some of the ways they might have fun. Most of
them involved very few clothes.
“I’ve got a trip to
Stratford in a couple of weeks,” carried on Katherine, oblivious to Anne’s
stirring desires, “how about we leave early, just the two of us, and take a
leisurely trip, some time away from the manor on our own?”
Anne’s mind was on a
runaway course now, planning all the places they could stop and make love on
the way to Stratford. She knew of a particularly lovely waterfall near
Kegworth.
“Anne?”
Anne started at her
name and managed to push her rebellious thoughts away enough to focus on
Katherine. “Sounds like a good idea to me, though I’m not sure how enamoured of
it Tobias will be – just the two of us without any guards.” Tobias provided a
convenient excuse to express her own concerns.
Katherine saw through
the thin veil. “We can bring some other guards if you want.”
Anne was torn. On the
one hand she would love to spend some time alone with Katherine without any of
the normal manor demands to distract them, but on the other she was aware of
her duty as Katherine’s personal guard. It was ironic to think she had been the
one bemoaning them getting stuck in their roles when here Katherine was
offering them some escape and she was the one dithering, tethered to her
responsibility. Once she wouldn’t have cared and would have just followed her
heart, but she couldn’t shake off the nagging fear that it wouldn’t be wise to
travel alone.
“Maybe we can come to
some compromise,” Anne said eventually.
Katherine appeared to
be in a forgiving mood. “Whatever makes you happy,” she said with a gentle
brush of the fingers across Anne’s cheek.
“Believe me I’d like
nothing more than to run round the countryside, just the two of us, but what
happened earlier just re-enforced how that might not be safe at the moment.”
“Oh?” queried
Katherine.
“Thomas and I came
across a group of men digging on the estate,” outlined Anne. “When we tried to
accost them, they made a run for it and there was a bit of a fight.”
Katherine wasn’t
letting her get away with the evasion. “A bit of a fight?”
“It was nothing,” Anne
insisted, “but unfortunately both of the other men were killed, so we didn’t
get to question them.”
“Why didn’t you say
something earlier?”
Anne quirked an
eyebrow. “You hardly gave me the chance, going all ‘lady of the manor’ on me.”
She slipped into a tone that mimicked Katherine’s “‘My decision is final!’”
Katherine laughed. “Is
that what I sound like?”
“Sort of,” said Anne
with a lop-sided smile, “only hotter.”
“Pardon?”
Anne’s smile widened.
“I have to admit it’s kind of sexy when you get all dominant like that.”
Katherine grinned. “In
that case – get up to my room, now!”
“What about the
party?”
“I really don’t think
anyone’s going to notice whether I’m there or not,” said Katherine. “Now, I
believe I gave you an order.”
Anne didn’t know why
she was objecting anyway. “Yes, Milady.”
They took the back
stairs hoping to avoid anyone, but the party had spilled out to all parts of
the house by that point. The cook was sprawled at the foot of the steps with
his arm draped over another different maid. It seemed his menu had certainly
impressed. Fortunately the pair of them were completely drunk and oblivious to
the two women having to clamber over them just to get by.
Once upstairs,
Katherine continued in her dominant manner, barely waiting for the door to
close before she stepped close and pressed her mouth hungrily to Anne’s. The
taste of wine was strong on Katherine’s lips, lingering on Anne’s own as the
other woman pulled back.
“Now, take your
clothes off.”
The words sent a
shiver of arousal through Anne. Katherine folded her arms and stared intensely
at her. Even if Anne had wanted to resist she couldn’t have. Slowly she peeled
her uniform off, able to feel Katherine’s heated gaze upon her the whole time.
Only when Anne was completely naked did Katherine move. She came right up to
Anne, almost so close that she was touching her, but not quite.
“Get on the bed,”
Katherine said her voice so low and throaty that it rumbled through Anne’s
already fluttering insides.
Anne backed up, unable
to tear her eyes away from the predatory gaze that held her in its thrall. When
she felt the press of the bedclothes against the back of her thighs she lowered
herself down on her back. Katherine followed her with aching slowness, crawling
onto the bed and up over Anne.
The heat pounding
through Anne was maddening and she reached up to touch Katherine. The other
woman pulled back and caught Anne’s hands. “Oh no, you do what I say, when I
say.” She pushed Anne’s hands back down onto the bed. “And for now you’re not
allowed to touch.”
Anne made a small
frustrated groan at the back of her throat. Katherine bent lower, the material
of her dress brushing across Anne’s already stiff nipples. Katherine’s mouth
was now right by her ear. “I hope I’m not making you feel like too much of an
underling,” she whispered.
The building tension
was too much to bear any longer with the reminder of her earlier words serving
as an outlet. Anne couldn’t help herself; she laughed. Katherine withdrew
enough to turn her eyes to Anne.
Anne grinned. “Believe
me, I’m more than happy to be under you.”
Katherine gave her
favourite seductive half-smile. “Oh, I think you will be more than
happy.”
Leaning down once
more, Katherine’s tongue flicked out across the sensitive skin at Anne’s neck
before moving lower. The teasing trail down her body paused when Katherine
reached her breasts. The other woman took great delight in tormenting Anne,
teasing each nipple between her teeth in turn. Anne groaned, arching up into
the arousing contact. She desperately wanted to reach up and tangle her hands
in Katherine’s hair, but she had been ordered not to. Instead her frustrated
hands gripped onto the bedclothes. She needed something to cling onto as her
desire built.
Eventually Katherine
sank lower, her hair tickling against Anne’s inner thigh. Anne was wet with
arousal now and instinctually she parted her legs further, inviting Katherine
in, submitting completely to the other woman’s touch. Katherine didn’t
hesitate. Her tongue found the heat between Anne’s legs, pushing up inside.
Anne let out a lustful moan. This was what she wanted, what she needed.
Anne felt a finger
joining with the probing tongue, her body bucking on the bed as she cried out
once more. Still Katherine pushed forwards, cupping Anne’s bottom with her free
hand so she could hold Anne close. The overwhelming sensations firing through
her were becoming too much and Anne was unable to hold back her ardent pants
and groans.
They just seemed to
galvanise Katherine further, her tongue and finger now darting in and out with
increasing rapidity. Anne felt fresh waves of moisture pooling between her
legs, dampening the blankets. Still she needed more, craved more. Her hips
tilted up, her legs parting as wide as she could manage. Suddenly Katherine’s
tongue moved up a fraction, just a fraction but enough to flick across Anne’s
clitoris. Anne cried out, her body going rigid for a moment. Then her orgasm
crashed through her, leaving her in a panting heap on the bed. It took some
time for her senses to return and see Katherine propped on an elbow next to
her.
“You were right,” said
Anne, “definitely more than happy.”
Katherine laughed, a
warm affirming sound.
“But I don’t think
you’re happy enough yet,” noted Anne.
“I don’t know, I’m
pretty happy,” said Katherine, licking her lips to remove some of the remnants
of their love-making, “but if you think I can be happier, then I better order
you to show me how.”
Anne grinned. “No
orders necessary, Milady, the pleasure will be all mine.”
…..
Saskia was not happy.
When she’d first allied herself to Lord Edgar she’d thought it would be easy
enough bending the up and coming lord to her will. Her particular brand of
seduction had never failed on men before. Yet with Edgar it seemed to be doing
just that. It was as if there was something else greater driving him on other
than the normal male lust for power that allowed him to resist her charms.
Worse was that he kept her at arm’s length when it came to his plans. The whole
situation was unsatisfactory, but that didn’t mean she was going to stop
trying.
She knew Edgar had
been shut away in his chambers for a couple of hours plotting his schemes. He
would be tired and ready for some rest and possibly other distractions.
Carrying with her a flagon of wine and two goblets, Saskia knocked for admittance
to the lord’s quarters. When the call granting her entrance came she allowed
herself a small smile.
“Good evening,
Milord,” she said sweetly on entering.
Edgar grunted a reply,
not looking up from his papers. Not to be deterred, Saskia placed the goblets
on the table and poured the wine into them.
“You’ve been working
too long,” she said in her best seductive purr, “why don’t you take some
refreshment.”
She was now right by
his side and he finally looked up at her. His grey eyes unnerved her with their
penetrating stare as they often did. Sometimes she wondered if she should just
cut her losses and find someone more malleable and less unsettling to latch
onto.
He pushed his chair
back slightly. “I suppose it is late.”
Saskia smiled and
offered him the wine. He took a hearty swig while Saskia just sipped at hers.
She wanted to remain in control. She sat perched on the edge of desk,
maintaining a position over the still-seated lord.
“So how are your plans
going?” she asked in an off-hand manner, flicking at some of the papers on the
desk.
Edgar caught her hand.
“I’m not your fool of a husband. A few doe-eyed looks won’t have me eating out
of your hand.”
“Then what will?”
asked Saskia. She put her wine down, leant forwards and placed her hand between
his legs. His eyes locked with hers. She could feel the heat radiating between
them. She could also feel a stirring beneath her hand.
A bang came from the
door. Saskia slowly withdrew her hand to look over her shoulder. The witch
woman, Eleanor, shambled towards them in her stooped manner. Edgar regarded her
sternly.
“Did anyone tell you
your timing is appalling?” he noted.
“It looks more like it
was spot on to save you from another distraction,” said the witch with a
disapproving look at Saskia. Saskia was more than happy to return it in kind.
“This quest for revenge is drawing you from our true goal,” added Eleanor.
Saskia wondered at the
witch’s wording. Though she didn’t know everything he was doing, Edgar’s
efforts at the moment seemed to be focussed on making things as difficult as
possible for the estate at Markham. Therefore, Saskia presumed the witch was
referring to Katherine. Why he would want revenge on her was another matter. To
the best of Saskia’s knowledge they’d never met until a couple of months ago.
His defeat at the hands of Katherine’s annoying peasant friend at the Markham
Spring Fair had been embarrassing, but not worth holding a full-blown grudge
over surely?
“I have to do
something with my time while I wait for you to find those blasted bones!”
countered Edgar. “Anyway, it’s in my interests to weaken Markham, it will make
gaining ownership of the convergence point easier.”
Now Saskia was lost,
but she listened and made mental notes anyway. One never knew when the smallest
bit of information may prove useful; information was power. That was one of the
reasons she hadn’t yet told Edgar what she knew of Katherine and the peasant
woman. By keeping that to herself it gave her an edge over him, something she
could turn to her advantage. Unfortunately now Charles was back she had to be
careful he didn’t blow it for her since he also knew of the real nature of the
relationship between the two women. She supposed she could speak to him, but he
wasn’t the same as before. He was unpredictable and, though she didn’t like to
admit it, he scared her. Meanwhile, it seemed Eleanor was not convinced by
Edgar’s argument.
“There are other
easier ways of gaining ownership…”
“Silence!” cried
Edgar, surprising both women with the outburst. “We proceed as before. I will
go to Stratford in two weeks time as planned in order to put paid to these
ridiculous attempts by Katherine to gain allies. In the mean time you will
find the bones. And then eventually I will have Markham and so much more.”
COMING SOON – Lady Katherine
and The Mysterious Murders