"Nay, not like an animal. Were that the case, I'd have homed in for the kill hours ago." He smiled at the confusion he read in her expression. 'You did not realize that I followed close behind, eh? You could have been back within my grasp well before the sun reached its zenith—indeed, before you left my tent last night."
She regarded him numbly. "What are you saying? That you let me escape? That you were but a step behind me the entire day?"
His smile widened in silent assent.
Kathryn's eyes rounded. God in heaven... ! Had he been at the stream while she stripped and bathed? At the realization that he had seen her almost naked, her face began to flame.
'You tricked me!" she accused. "Why? Why would you do such a thing?"
"Why?" He arched a heavy black brow. "I should think the answer is obvious. You acted like a child who would test the limits of discipline, and so I thought to teach you a lesson, a lesson that you go nowhere lest I say so. 'Tis my will which will triumph over yours, Kathryn."
"Never," she vowed.
"Always."
He moved before she realized his intention. His hand locked around her wrist. He brought her against him with a force that ripped the breath from her lungs.
"You escaped me once, milady. Do not think to do so again, for I vow I'll not be so lenient the next time."
She shrank back instinctively, unable to stop herself. Until that moment she did not realize how truly angry he was. Now, his eyes seemed to burn with all the fires of hell.
His laughter was a terrible sound. "Afraid, Kathryn? Ah, lass, you should be, for you try my patience as no other before you. You have put me to much trouble—much trouble indeed. And I begin to wonder that you are worth it."
Somehow she managed to raise her chin and match his stare bravely, but her knees were shaking. Never had a man been more threatening by simple virtue of his sex. He towered over her, tall and powerful. His jaw was set tight. His silver eyes pierced through her like a lance. She read in his eyes the desire to punish her. She resented him for his power over her, even as she despaired her own weakness.
Courage come to her then—a reckless semblance of it, at least.
"Go ahead!" She taunted him unthinkingly. Let them meet as the enemies they were. "It won't be the first time I've felt the bite of the lash or the cuff of a man's hand. Or mayhap now that you've killed Richard, you've a mind to murder me as well!"
"I will only say this once," he growled. "I did not murder your uncle, though nothing would have given me greater pleasure. Yes, I sought vengeance! But someone cheated me of my revenge."
"And I am to believe you? This from a man whose code of honor includes trickery?" Her lip curled in disdain. She tried to wrench from his hold. He wouldn't let her.
His arms came around her, tight and unyielding, trapping her hands between them. His mouth enveloped hers, merciless and untamed, the pressure of his lips against hers so demanding she felt the gnashing of his teeth against her own. His tongue dove deep within her mouth, deep and plundering. Unaware that she did so, she gave a tiny whimper of distress, and suddenly, the tenor of his kiss began to change.
The world about her seemed to spin and swirl. The fusion of his mouth on hers was no longer hard and brutal, but hungry and seeking. She fought against an insidious pleasure. In some far distant corner of her mind, she was appalled that she could feel such a thing with this man. Yet she was helpless to prevent her fingers from slowly uncurling against the breadth of his chest.
Guy nearly groaned aloud. She was so slight, his outspread hand at her back nearly spanned the width of her waist. Her bones were fine and fragile. She felt as if she would break in half, yet there was a lithe firmness about her that drove him to the brink of madness.
He'd only meant to remind her that her will was subject to his, or so he'd told himself. But now his blood pounded thick and heavy along his veins. His hands strayed below her waist, discovering the lushness of her buttocks. With a guttural moan, he lifted her into the cradle of his thighs, fitting into the vastly male triangle of his thighs, molding her full and tight against him.
Kathryn stiffened in shock. Something strange and alien stirred against the softness of her belly. Hardening. Growing...
A growl erupted deep in his throat. He wrenched his mouth from hers. "Damn you." He nearly flung her from him. "Damn you for tempting me!"
"Me!" Her cry was one of outraged indignation. "Why, 'twas you who kissed me! Why do you blame me instead of yourself?"
The tension spun out endlessly. He hated this unreasoning desire he harbored for her. He longed to banish the taste of her from his lips, while another part of him longed to snatch her back and let things lead where they would, consequences be damned.
His gaze fairly stabbed into hers. "You, my lovely Kathryn, are a whore. No lady of virtue would do what you have done!"
"And what, pray, have I done that you find so despicable?"
His voice was as cutting as his eyes. "You sought the pleasures of the flesh with Roderick without benefit of marriage—and now you pay the price!" Kathryn flushed as his gaze raked down to her belly and back again. "And need I remind you that only four nights past, you offered those very same pleasures to me. You played the whore for Roderick, but by God, you'll not do the same with me!"
Stung, Kathryn shrank back as if she'd been struck. A fervent denial trembled on her lips. Why, her embrace with Roderick wasn't at all what it seemed! And that night at Ashbury, she offered herself to him out of desperation, nothing more. But the distaste on his countenance shocked and shamed her. How could she tell him that she couldn't possibly be with child? He would brand her liar as well as slut.
But it seemed there was no need for explanations after all. He stalked to his destrier and grabbed something from behind his saddle. A moment later he flung a blanket at her feet.
"Go to sleep," he said harshly. "We leave at dawn."
Sir Hugh raised a hand and rapped on the oaken portal that guarded Elizabeth's chamber. There was no ensuing response, so he knocked again, this time more firmly. At last he heard a faint stirring from within. "Who is it?" called a faint voice.
" 'Tis I—Sir Hugh. I must speak with you, Lady Elizabeth."
All was silent for so long he was certain she intended to refuse. Then at last the door slid open. "Sir Hugh," she murmured. "You wished to speak with me?" Her eyes were lowered. She stood there, hands folded before her, her manner subdued and submissive.
"Aye, that I did." He stepped forward. "I was worried about you, Elizabeth. I thought to check on you and make certain you were not sick."
Her gaze avoided his. "I—I am well," she whispered, and turned her head.
Hugh caught his breath. Her skin was pale and colorless, her lashes spiked and damp. The fragile skin below her eyes looked almost bruised. "You've been crying," he said quietly. "Why, Elizabeth? Tell me why."
The deep shuddering breath she took made his heart wrench. Placing finger beneath her chin, he raised her face to his. She flinched at his touch, but didn't withdraw as he half-expected her to. He longed to pull her tight to his heart, but didn't think he dared. Instead he wrapped both her hands in his, and drew her across the chamber to the bench below the window.
'Tell me what troubles you," he implored. "I will seek to right it, I promise you."
Elizabeth bemoaned her foolish, foolish heart. No doubt Sir Hugh would think her weak and spineless, as Uncle had. "If only you could,” she said dully.
Her sweet gentleness held him captivated. Hugh longed for nothing more than the privilege of protecting her from any and everything that might do her harm. But he hated the air of sadness which clung to her.