Yet something must have alerted him to her, for at that moment he half-turned. His gaze climbed inevitably to the place where she peered out. And for the space of a heartbeat, the mask of icy coldness so familiar to her was back in place.
Back with a vengeance.
Kathryn recoiled as if she'd been struck with a fist. The breath left her lungs in a rush. She stumbled back, feeling oddly shaken. It occurred to her then. She was an outsider here at Sedgewick. She did not belong...
The warm soak in her bath did much to ease the soreness wrought in her aching muscles by the long journey, but it did nothing to boost her flagging spirits. She allowed Gerda to dress her hair, though it was a luxury she hadn't known at Ashbury. Again the girl displayed no sign of friendliness, no sign at all. When Gerda wordlessly began to unpack her chest, Kathryn looked away, biting back a swell of humiliation, unwilling to suffer the sight of the girl's hands on her meager belongings. She didn't see Gerda's smooth forehead crease in puzzlement, or the confused glance she directed at the newcomer. Kathryn ventured downstairs to the great hall for a hasty meal, but the suspicious glares she encountered there soon drove her back to her chamber.
A narrow shelf had been fashioned just below the window overlooking the courtyard. Kathryn discovered it was big enough that she could sit quite comfortably, her legs stretched out before her. She spent the remainder of the day cloistered there.
The evening's first star had just made its appearance when a knock sounded on the door. Thinking it was Gerda with the evening meal, she bade her come in. Feeling low and dispirited, she wrapped her arms around her knees and laid her cheek against her knees and watched a second twinkling star appear. She paid scant attention to the footsteps crossing the room.
By then it was too late. The hair on the back of her neck stood up in warning.
"So meek, Lady Kathryn. So humble. You surprise me, for I had thought you would have my household in a rampage by now."
She gritted her teeth against that velvet-honed voice of steel. "You know nothing of me." She delivered the words curtly, refusing to look at him.
"Indeed," he mocked. "A situation mayhap we should remedy."
"I think not."
"How quickly you forget, Kathryn! My will prevails, does it not?" Before she knew what he was about, a muscled arm shot out. He scooped her from her perch and deposited her before him. He then proceeded to inspect every detail of her appearance, from the glossy black hair concealed beneath her wimple to the much-mended seam in the shoulder of her woolen kirtle.
"You will do," he announced at last. He reached out to grasp her elbow.
She snatched it back. "Do for what?" she cried. "Where are you taking me?"
He merely sighed as if she were an unruly child. "Cease your prattle, Kathryn. I merely mean to feed you."
She spurned his touch when he would have reached for her again. Guy allowed it, though he clenched his fist at his side in order to do so. This was one wench who possessed pride aplenty. And if he were honest with himself, he would admit he found himself both intrigued and irritated by it.
In the hall, servants scurried to and from the kitchens, seizing empty platters and piling food onto trestle tables. Guy led her to the high table and saw her seated. Kathryn stole a quick glimpse in all directions from beneath her lashes, relieved to find that they attracted no more than a passing glance. When her gaze returned to the earl, she found it disconcerting to find herself the sole object of his scrutiny.
The way he arched a single black brow lent him a satanic look. "I trust your chamber is adequate."
It was on the tip of her tongue to blurt out that it was far more than adequate. She swiftly quelled the impulse. "Quite," she said shortly.
Neither spoke as his squire began to serve them. There was a mouth-watering stew, lamb and suckling pig, fruit and tempting cakes sweetened with honey. But Kathryn could scarcely eat more than a few bites. Her stomach felt as if it were tied up in knots. She couldn't relax. Why, she could scarcely think with the earl so close!
The earl paused, his goblet suspended halfway to his mouth as he frowned at her. "Is the food not to your liking, Kathryn?" A hint of scorn laced his voice.
"The food is excellent," she pronounced flatly.
"Eat, then, for I would fatten you up—you and your babe."
Her babe. The words hit her hard, for she'd forgotten he thought her with child.
"I must have a care," she murmured, "else my weight will be too much for my palfrey to carry me home."
His brittle laugh further set her on edge. "You wish to leave us so soon? Milady, you wound me sorely!"
For a moment Kathryn said nothing. A hot ache closed her throat as her mind turned fleetingly back. . .She had oft dreamed of the day she would finally be free of her uncle. But she had never dreamed it would be like this.
"God's blood, I—I wish I'd never come here!" Even if the longing in her eyes hadn't given her away, her fervent tone would have.
"But you are here and so I must insist you grace us with your presence." His taunt struck home. He brought the goblet to his lips. Above the dull beaten silver, his eyes gleamed with satisfaction.
Rage began to simmer along her veins. Oh, he was so smug, so unutterably sure that he was lord and master of all he surveyed! More than anything, Kathryn longed to shove at his chest, topple his chair, and see him sprawled at her feet—ah, if only she dared!
Totally indifferent to her anger, Guy resumed his meal.
Something snapped inside Kathryn. Heedless of anyone who might be watching, she leaped to her feet, spun about, and stalked from the table.
He was right behind her. She could hear the determined echo of his footsteps. Her pace quickened. She silently gauged the distance to the top of the stairs. Her heart clamored like a drum, but she refused to flee like a trapped doe.
Alas, at the threshold of the dark corridor that led to her chamber, he loomed before her—thwarting her, stopping her cold.
"I did not grant you leave to depart, milady." He towered above her, his ominous presence surrounding her like a mantle of darkness. She tried to shake it off and could not.
"Oh, stop!" she cried. "I've no more wish for your company than you have for mine!"
A slow smile rimmed the hardness of his mouth.
"No?" he murmured, hiking a brow. "I'm not so sure, my lady Kathryn. I'm not so sure at all." His eyes boldly traveled the length of her body, lingering on breasts and belly and hips, taking liberties no other man had dared.
Anger brewed within her, like a storm gathering force and building to a tempest. Her teeth clenched anew. "Cease with this pretense, my lord earl! I know why you wanted me under your roof. The better to make me wait in dread while I wonder what you have in store for me—the better to toy with me the same way you would have toyed with Richard had you had the chance!"
'The better to watch you," he snapped. Her anger was vivid in her eyes, but Guy was annoyed she could think he would treat her so cruelly. Hadn't he shown her every care thus far?
"I do not trust you, Kathryn." His expression turned brooding. 'That is all there is to it. No more, no less. But if you behave, who knows? Mayhap we can strike a bargain."
"I'd as lief bargain with the devil."
His gaze flickered over her. With her chin angled haughtily, her shoulders straight, small hands fisted at her sides, she was the picture of defiance. Ever bold, ever sure of herself.. . ever beautiful.
"Mayhap you shall, Kathryn—" His smile was tight. "—and sooner than you think."
The light from the candle set high in the wall spilled down on him, outlining his arrogant profile, and the hardness of his mouth. He went on coolly, "And now I think 'tis time we returned to the hall."
Panic leaped within her. Though she was frustrated and infuriated, until that moment she had scarce given a thought to those who might have witnessed their departure from the hall—how humiliating it would be to return in his wake!