He glanced between the two of them and smiled. "I must confess, I would hate to say which of you is the younger—or the most beauteous."
Kathryn smiled. "I am older than Elizabeth by a year." There was a small pause. "I trust we did not keep you waiting," she murmured.
"Not at all." Hugh led them toward the wooden dais at the far end of the hall. Unbidden, Kathryn's gaze swept the hall for any sign of a tall black-haired man. But the earl was nowhere in sight. Kathryn discovered herself torn between a deep-seated relief and a feeling of helpless frustration. Richard's decree could not be carried out if the earl was not here.
"Lord de Marche does not join us?" She posed the question as Sir Hugh seated her and Elizabeth.
He shook his head. "Nay. He rode out with the bailiff to speak with some of the tenants. He has not yet returned."
Kathryn was barely able to stop her lip from curling in disdain. The conquering hero had gone out to survey his domain and judge its worth. An acrid resentment simmered within her as the servants placed trenchers of bread before then.
There was fresh herring spiced with ginger, an array of breads laced with honey and nuts. Kathryn had little appetite though the evening was less of an ordeal than she expected. Sir Hugh was charming and witty. Elizabeth was nervous as always with so many men milling about. She was quiet and spoke little, yet she smiled several times at something Sir
Hugh said. Indeed, at any other time Kathryn might have relaxed and actually enjoyed herself. . . but thoughts of the night to come hung over her like a death shroud. At every lull in the conversation, Richard's voice spun through her mind.
Even now my knights seek a way for me to escape.
If only Richard were wrong. If only she could be sure he would not escape before the earl pronounced sentence upon him. Then this horrible charade need not be played out at all.
If Helga gives her favors to the right guard, a lock or two might be accidentally left open. Or she might lay her hands on the key herself.
She had to think of Elizabeth. She had to protect her sister, for there was no one else to do so.
The time passed more quickly than she wished. Before she knew it, it was time to retire. Sir Hugh rose and insisted on seeing them to their chambers. Halfway across the hall, another knight waylaid him. He promised he would be only a moment, so Kathryn and Elizabeth moved off to await him near the stairway.
A small group of men had just entered the hall. They had to skirt them in order to get by, and as they passed, one of them fixed greedy eyes on Elizabeth and Kathryn. "Now there's a way to warm a man's behind the night through," he said to his companions. "One on each side! What say you, lads? Shall we roll the dice? We've yet to see the spoils of victory."
Elizabeth went deathly pale. Kathryn whirled on the knave, a scathing denunciation ready to spring from her lips.
"There will be no plunder. There will no booty taken from this keep. Did I not make myself plain, gentlemen?"
Kathryn knew, even before her head whipped around, who stood behind her. That chillingly cold voice was one she'd not soon forget. She thought dimly that the Earl of Sedgewick possessed an uncanny power. He had no need to resort to violence; he could punish and whip with only the sound of his voice... the touch of his eyes.
One by one the men fell back beneath his blistering stare.
Something seemed to freeze inside Kathryn. How kind. How noble. Ashbury would not be looted or robbed. The earl was no better than their uncle. He would steal what was theirs, hers and Elizabeth's, and claim it all for himself. Yet such was the nature of life. Such were the ways of men, she thought angrily, hopelessly.
"My lord." Kathryn tipped her chin up and regarded Guy de Marche coolly. She neither curtsied nor offered him her hand. By God, she'd not humble herself before him.
His gaze had settled upon Elizabeth, who was still visibly shaken. She was also clearly anxious to escape the hall—or perhaps the earl's presence. Kathryn fancied it was the latter and slid a protective arm round her sister's shoulders. "You have not yet met my sister, Elizabeth. Elizabeth, Lord de Marche, Earl of Sedgewick."
"Lady Elizabeth. The pleasure is mine, I assure you." He bowed slightly and gave a smile that was almost warm.
Kathryn was suddenly overwhelmed with angry frustration. Why did he bother? Why had Sir Hugh bothered? They played at pretense, both of them, when in truth they were the triumphant heroes and she and Elizabeth naught but the vanquished. Yet a tiny inner voice whispered that their circumstances could have been dire indeed. He could have enslaved them. Worse, they could have been fair game for his men.
Not for the first time that day, Kathryn wondered what plans the earl had for them. Yet what did it matter, for he would soon be dead...
Guy watched her, silently weighing and measuring. He saw many things flit across her lovely features in that moment. Anger, though he knew not why. Defiance. Even the unexpected—a hint of defeat. But haughty pride quickly followed, an expression he was beginning to grow rather familiar with. He curbed his irritation and stripped off his gloves, tucking them under his arm.
It was then that Kathryn spied Roderick past his shoulder. Roderick and several more of her uncle's knights. Mother of Christ! Was it true then? Did her uncle's men even now hatch the plot that would set him free?
Too late she saw that Guy's gaze paralleled hers. She wet her lips, suddenly nervous. "Is it not dangerous to let Uncle's knights wander the halls?"
"Your lov—" There was a small pause where he glanced at Elizabeth. "Your betrothed and a few others," he finished, "have sworn fealty to me as their new lord."
Kathryn glared at him. She sensed his scorn, and his mocking half-smile told the tale only too well. If Elizabeth had not been present his words would have been far different.
"You are a trusting man," she told him stiffly, "to free them so quickly."
He fixed those strange crystalline eyes upon her face. "There can be no honor without trust," he murmured. "And Sir Roderick, as your uncle's chief retainer, has some influence over the other knights. You may rest assured these men are being watched, despite my show of good faith. But do not count on seeing the rest of your uncle's knights up and about so quickly. In time, they will be given the choice to accept me as their lord as these others have done."
"And if they do not?" Dimly Kathryn wondered what madness possessed her that she challenged him so.
He shrugged. "They will regret it," he said simply.
A smile that was almost lazy lurked about his lips, but Kathryn was not fooled. There was no mercy She could detect no hint of mercy in his carved features. Did the man have no heart? she raged silently. No compassion? Was he as merciless and cruel as their uncle?
He has spared Roderick, a voice in her mind reminded her. And he has spared both you and Elizabeth.
Beside her, Elizabeth edged closer. "Kathryn, I grow tired," she whispered. "Let us retire."
Sir Hugh chose that moment to finally join them. He clapped a hand on the earl's back. "Guy, you missed a most entertaining evening," he proclaimed.
Guy glanced between the two sisters. Kathryn was smiling, as if in total agreement with Hugh. But Elizabeth's face was downcast.
The two were nothing alike, he found himself musing. One was as dark as the other was fair; Kathryn was wind and fire, while her sister was soft summer rain.
"I was just about to escort these two ladies to their chambers," Hugh said. "Then I thought I'd return here for a spot of ale. Mayhap you will join me."
Guy shook his head, suddenly conscious of how bone-weary he was. "I think not. I intend to sup in my chamber and then retire for the night."
Hugh nodded. Guy turned to the two women and bowed slightly. "Ladies, I bid you good night."
Moments later, Hugh did the same, raising each of their hands to his Lips before murmuring his good night. Kathryn was startled to discover Elizabeth's eyes fixed upon him as his footsteps carried him down the long hall.