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When she didn't move, Guy lost patience. He snared her about the waist, in the back of his mind marveling at how slight she was. He lifted her full off the floor and started toward the stairs. He had no qualms about carrying her kicking and screaming under his arm like a sack of grain, all the way back to the hall if need be.

But the tiny strangled sound he heard brought his eyes cleaving to hers in a flash.

Her palms opened on the soft wool of his tunic. "I cannot," she said, very low. In some distant part of her mind, she applauded the evenness of her voice. Pride alone kept her chin up.

The moment seemed to stretch into eternity, for inside Guy a violent tug-of-war was being waged. His jaw tense, he stared at her. The screen of her lashes shielded her eyes. If he were to raise her chin, he knew full well she could not hide her stricken entreaty. From the start, Guy knew he had been right about her. She was stubborn and strong-willed and defiant. Her willfulness could not be ignored, and he was just the man to bring her to heel. And yet, the feel of her body against his aroused a flurry of emotions.

She was so close he could feel the ragged tremor of her breath against the hollow of his throat. “Please," she whispered. "Do not make me." It was not her spoken plea, but the quiver of her lip that betrayed her tremulous emotions.

He lowered her to the floor but kept a steely arm tight about her waist. The grim tension had not left his features. If anything, his expression was even more implacable than before.

With his thumb and forefinger, he prodded her chin up. "Hear me, Kathryn," he said brusquely. "Hear me well, for I will say this only once. Do not expect leniency from me. Do not think to twist me round your finger! You have tested me once already and lost. Should you wish to ever have my trust, you will have to earn it."

With that he was gone, as swift and silent as the night. Kathryn fled to the sanctuary of her chamber, her dignity in tatters.

She threw herself across the bed, furious at the helplessness of her position... cursing the man who had brought it about. The earl controlled her every move, as surely as a falcon on a jess.

And she could do naught but endure the fate that awaited her.

Chapter 7

In the fortnight which followed, all that sustained Kathryn was a thin trickle of hope. She prayed nightly that the earl might soon grant her leave to return to Ashbury, but he showed no signs of relenting. He was often gone during the day, seeing to the spring plantings and other duties. During the evenings, he was ever aloof, ever icy, ever distant. Even the servants were wary of her. Gerda, who attended her closely, was stiff but polite, obliging but guarded. Indeed, the girl was almost as suspicious of her as was the earl! Oh, she knew why—because she was Richard's niece. Still, their flagrant distrust hurt, especially Gerda's.

Sedgewick itself was grand—built both as a defensive fortress and as a comfortable home. But Kathryn's soul was empty and lonely. She could not rid herself the nagging restlessness inside her. How she missed Elizabeth. How she missed Ashbury! She missed the mist-shrouded headlands of Cornwall, the keening wail of the incessant wind, the muted roar of the sea.

Her only redemption was Peter. His shyness with her lasted only a day or two. Only with the little boy did Kathryn feel she could be truly herself, for he was the only one here with no preconceived notions about her.

Even the weather was an ominous reflection of her mood. Throughout the day yesterday, dark clouds scuttled across the sky, while wind-driven sheets of rain lashed the ramparts. But this morning, bright golden sunlight bleached the sky. Between the rain and her enforced confinement, Kathryn longed to be free of the castle walls, if only for a while.

When Peter peeked into her chamber a while later, she crooked a finger at him. He ran to her and she scooped him up in her arms. "How would you like to go on an outing today, my little lord?" She whirled toward the window and Peter laughed delightedly.

"Look," she urged. Standing before the window, she pointed to where a strip of lush woodland ran back into the hills. Sunlight glinted off the stream that meandered through the trees. "You see the stream there? We could take a bit of food along with us, and eat there beside the water. And while we walk, we could pretend we're two soldiers marching off to slay a fierce, fire-breathing dragon."

"Dragons!" he cried, clapping his hands in approval. A secret smile tilted Kathryn's lips. The fire- breathing dragon conjured up in her mind had hair as black as midnight and glowing eyes of silver.

Gerda, who had been hovering behind them, said quickly, "I will go too, milady. Shall I ask the cook for some cheese and a loaf of bread?"

Kathryn glanced at her sharply. There was something about her tone. . . She lowered Peter to the floor, her smile rather stiff. "Peter and I will be fine, Gerda. You need not come with us."

A look of anxious distress widened Gerda's eyes.

"If you do not mind, milady, I—I think I shall."

It was on the tip of Kathryn's tongue to snap that she did mind. Still, she suspected Gerda was only doing as she'd been told. No doubt the earl had ordered that she was not to venture outside the castle walls alone.

"Very well," she said curtly. "If you'll fetch some food from the kitchens, Peter and I will meet you in the hall." Gerda fled the room, and Kathryn's lovely mouth turned down. Damn the earl to hell and back! she raged silently. He need not be present, and still the dratted man was able to make her utterly miserable!

But her mood lightened once they left the castle walls behind. The sun spilled down in radiant splendor, bathing her face and warming her limbs. She chuckled as Peter tramped along the narrow pathway, wielding a stick he'd found as if it were a mighty sword. She decided to stop near a spot where massive oaks arched over the shallow creek. Gerda laid out a blanket she'd brought so they could sit, and soon they were ready to eat. Peter sat between them, grinning up at Kathryn between bites of cheese. Once again, Kathryn was struck by the brilliant translucence of his eyes; surrounded by indecently long black lashes, they glowed like sapphires.

When he ran off to play at the bank, she shook her head. "I've never seen such beautiful eyes," she murmured. "Were his mother's so incredibly blue?"

Something flickered across the girl's face. "Lady Elaine," she said quietly. "Aye, milady. The boy has his mother's eyes."

Kathryn had decided that the earl would not ruin this day for her, but she was suddenly intently curious about the woman who had been his wife.

"Gerda." She twitched at a fold in the blanket. "Did you know her, the Lady Elaine? I know you must have been rather young when she was mistress here..." Kathryn broke off, feeling very awkward.

There was a prolonged silence. An odd expression crossed the girl's face. "I knew her," Gerda said finally. She paused for the space of a heartbeat. "I was the last one to see her alive."

Kathryn started. The remembrance glaringly vivid, all at once she recalled the earl's words that night in Richard's chamber. It was only by the mercy of God that my wife's maid escaped, along with my son... You gave orders that no one was to be spared— not women, not children—no one!

The maid who had escaped with Peter had been Gerda, she realized numbly. Gerda had been there during Richard's rampage, while he ravaged and murdered... There was a sharp, stabbing pain in Kathryn's chest. She couldn't tear her eyes from Gerda, who sat very still, her hands folded, her gaze lowered. She longed to reach out to the girl, to ease the torment hidden deep inside—it didn't matter that she was a servant—but she sensed Gerda did not want that from her.

She drew a deep, unsteady breath, unsure of what to say. "Gerda," she murmured, "I—I do not make excuses for myself, but it shames me greatly to know that I am kin to a man such as Richard. I mourn your lady's loss, but I cannot mourn his. Will you tell me about her, Gerda? What she was like? I know it may seem a strange request, but I would truly like to know."