Chapter Three #3
With the questions and concerns out of the way, they began to walk back in the direction Katiana had come, a long stretch of road that would take them to Ludgate, and after that, it would be another significant walk to Coleman Street.
Katiana wasn’t entirely sure she could walk that distance in the delicate slippers she was wearing, but she wasn’t going to say anything.
She was rather looking forward to this.
Titus had both horses plodding along behind him rather calmly. She turned to look at her palfrey, who was understandably exhausted.
“Look at him,” she said. “A few minutes ago, I thought he would never stop. Now he looks as if he is going to fall over dead.”
Titus turned to look at the horse, noticing a few remaining ribbons and tassels on the reins. “I would wager to say that the décor on his bridle spooked him,” he said. “Horses do not like flashy dress where they can see it.”
Katiana paused, picking all of the ribbons and tassels off the horse. “Then I will keep these safe,” she said as they resumed walking. “I did not put them on. The grooms did.”
“They were trying to make him look lovely to match his rider.”
She smiled at more of his flattery. “Titus, you are going to give me a swelled head if you keep saying things like that,” she said. “Then I shall become unbearable, and you will be to blame.”
He laughed softly. “If anyone deserves to have a swollen head, it is you,” he said. “I seem to remember your brother being quite arrogant, and for no good reason.”
Her smile faded. “He and my father share that trait,” she said. “That is why they cannot live in the same home.”
“Understandable,” Titus said. “Since I’ve not seen you in twenty years, what happened when he returned home? And why did your father send for you shortly thereafter?”
Katiana picked up her skirts a little so they wouldn’t become overly dirty. She was wearing her new clothing and didn’t wish to soil it on her very first outing.
“That was a bit of an odyssey,” she said.
“I do not know what was said or what happened when Ansel was initially sent home, but my father sent for me because he had been horribly insulted by the House of de Wolfe and did not want me to spend another moment in their custody. That is why I left. I am sorry I did not have the opportunity to bid you farewell.”
Titus glanced at her. “I woke up one morning and was told you had gone home,” he said. “I hesitate to say this because I do not wish to bring up painful memories, but I hope your father was not cruel to you when you went home, since you were the catalyst that sent Ansel away.”
Katiana shook her head. “I did not go home,” she said.
“I was taken directly to Warwick Castle, where I remained until just a few years ago. Ansel was sent to Beeston Castle. I heard rumor that my father tried to send him to Kenilworth, where all the great knights train, but your grandfather must have informed the master knights of Kenilworth of Ansel’s behavior. They would not take him.”
Warwick Castle. That set off a warning bell in Titus’ mind, but he didn’t comment on it.
After the conversation he’d had with Morgen earlier that day, he thought it quite a coincidence to meet an old friend who had fostered there.
Of course, questions began to flood his mind—was it possible that Katiana shared Warwick’s stance against the king?
He wondered. But the fact that she fostered there was of interest to him.
He would keep the knowledge tucked in his memory in case he needed it.
He continued to focus on her brother’s trajectory as a knight.
“God’s Bones,” he said with some irony. “I cannot imagine rejection by Kenilworth pleased your father much.”
“I do not know,” Katiana said honestly. “My father and I rarely speak. And I’ve not seen my brother in years, which is perfectly to my liking. I do not mind saying that he was a terrible brother. I’m sure he’s grown into a terrible man.”
Titus shrugged. “Some men grow up,” he said. “They are not always terrible.”
“Ansel was born terrible.”
Titus couldn’t argue with that, remembering the boy that the knights at Roxburgh used to call a bad seed. “Then you spend your time with your aunt these days,” he said. “What do you do for entertainment?”
Katiana shrugged. “We play card games, I suppose,” she said. “I read aloud because my aunt has terrible eyesight. I also play the harpsichord and sing.”
“You do?” He looked at her, pleased and surprised. “I should like to hear you sometime. Will you play for me?”
“If you wish, of course.”
“Are you good at it?”
She gave him a wry twist of the lips. “Now you ask?” she said. “I have just agreed to play for you. If I tell you I am terrible, will you tell me you do not wish to hear at all?”
He fought off a grin. “Absolutely,” he said, pretending to be quite serious. “I will not sit through a dreadful song. I’d rather hear cats fighting.”
“I think you would sit through it, no matter how appalling, and still tell me that you liked it.”
“I would not. I would demand you stop.”
She looked at him, a gleam to her eye. “We shall see.”
A dark eyebrow lifted. “Does that mean you are going to put me to the test?”
“You will never know until it is too late.”
He couldn’t help it; he started chuckling with that bright laughter that Katiana remembered from so long ago.
The Titus she remembered was well liked, a congenial lad with a ready smile.
She was glad to see that hadn’t changed, and somehow, it did her heart good.
Not everything was the dull existence she had been leading all these years, without family she loved or friends to keep her company.
There were days, long ago, when she knew a lad like Titus de Wolfe who could light up an entire room with his congeniality, and she did so long for that kind of joy again.
“I will take my chances,” he said, breaking into her train of thought. “But you are clearly accomplished.”
“All noble-bred young women must be.”
He nodded, but it was clear he wanted to say something more.
He was looking at the street up ahead, at the few people around them, going one way or the other, but his mind seemed to be working.
Katiana kept glancing at him as they continued along the road because the lull in the conversation seemed odd.
“Are we finished speaking on me?” she finally said. “If we are, I am glad. I would like to know about your life since we last saw one another. Surely you have had some fantastic adventures. Have you traveled many places?”
He turned to look at her, which, with his height, made it seem like he was looking down at the top of her head. But he was looking at her seriously, an expression that didn’t seem natural to his face.
“I am not done speaking on you yet,” he said. “May I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“You will not be offended?”
“I cannot answer that until I hear your honesty.”
She had a point. Titus took a deep breath before speaking.
“It is the madness I spoke of,” he said.
She looked at him curiously. “What madness?”
“That you are not yet married.”
Realizing they were back on that uncomfortable subject, she shrugged her shoulders as she looked at the ground passing beneath her feet.
“It is no great mystery,” she said. “The truth is that men are looking for younger women of wealth, and the reality is that I am not young and I have no wealth. My father has not given me a dowry and never will.”
Titus scowled. “Why in the hell not?”
“Do you always use strong language when addressing a lady?”
He was properly contrite. “My apologies,” he said. “But why not? That makes no sense.”
She shook her head. “You would have to ask him,” she said.
“I am not married, nor am I betrothed, but that does not mean there has not been any interest. There has been, in fact—a baron’s son last year, and before that, I had three in one year, all of them approaching my father with the intention of courting me, but my father told them that there was no money.
I would have nothing more than my clothing and what jewels were left to me by my mother. ”
Titus was appalled. “I’ve never heard anything so shocking in my life,” he said. “I’ve never heard of a father not providing his daughter with a dowry.”
“Now you have.”
“But who bought you that dress?”
Katiana fingered the beautiful garment. “My aunt,” she said.
“She has a clothing allowance and some wealth of her own, left to her by her mother, my grandmother. But the rest of the de Edington wealth belongs to my father. And before you ask, my aunt does not have enough money to give me a dowry. Not if she wants to live comfortably until she dies.”
Titus shook his head in disbelief. “Absolutely incredible,” he said. “So she dresses you well in the hopes that a man will overlook your lack of fortune and take you on your beauty and accomplishments alone?”
“That sums it up as well as anything.”
Titus didn’t know what to say to that. He found himself shaking his head at a father who would not provide for his own daughter, especially one as magnificent as Katiana.
“Astonishing,” he muttered. “Positively astonishing.”
Katiana looked at him. “Why?” she said. “Would you marry a woman without a dowry? Of course not. What sane man would?”
“And you are so calm about this?”