Chapter 8
Katherine.
She was the one who had bandaged his wrist, Siaspar was sure of it.
He’d thought to see her face bent over him, creased with worry, while he was fighting blackness.
He’d thought to hear her voice, crisp in her English accent, asking him to stand up.
He would have laughed if he had been able to.
She wanted him to stand up when he could not even keep his eyes open!
That accursed Lady Malpas had given him wine tainted with a potion to make him sleep.
At least it had not been poison. His mind had been floating in a sea of mist, his muscles unable to respond to his command.
And then while he was at her mercy, she had sliced his wrist open.
The cold blade had cut through his veins, he had felt its sting clearly, as clearly as he had felt his life ebb away from him in hot, pulsing beats but he had been powerless to do anything to stop her.
His entire body had felt as heavy as if it had been encased in lead.
In that moment, he had known his death was inevitable.
He was going to die and he had not been able to do anything other than to close his eyes and accept his fate.
Confusedly, before he could drown in oblivion, he had felt someone fumble with his arm and mutter to herself. A woman. An English woman. Katherine. Had he died already? What was she doing there, in his room?
Then her voice, talking to him this time. A question, spoken in an urgent voice.
Can you hear me?
Then nothing. Blackness. Whether it was due to the potion or the loss of blood, Siaspar wasn’t sure. Either way, he had passed out.
And now he was up. Or rather, awake, and lying in his bed. How had Katherine had the strength to lift him up there? How much time had passed since he had lost consciousness? Was she still there in the room? He wanted to call out to her but his mouth was full of wool.
Before he could do more than shake his head, someone spoke. A Welsh man this time man. Gwyn. His squire.
“Arglwydd Mawr! My lord, you’re awake!”
Siaspar groaned and opened his eyes a fraction. “I’m alive, you mean,” he managed eventually.
“Yes. When I found you lying in a pool of your own blood, I swear I…” Instead of finishing his sentence, the young man crossed himself swiftly.
“I was on the floor?”
“Yes. Passed out with the effort it had taken you to bandage your wrist, I wager.”
So, Katherine had eased him on the floor, not carried him to bed.
She had not wanted to leave him on the chair at the risk of him falling and fracturing his skull while senseless.
It had been her only option, as she would never have been able to hoist him up onto the bed.
Gwyn was a sturdy lad, everything she was not.
All the same, she had saved his life. There was no doubt.
“I will ask that you never talk of what you saw in that room,” he told his squire. He would not have anyone else believing he had tried to take his own life.
“Of course, my lord.”
Siaspar closed his eyes again. Dear God, he felt weak as a kitten, worse than he had ever felt in his life. But it could have been much worse. He could have died this day. In fact, he would have died had it not been for Katherine.
Why had she tried to save him, he couldn’t help but wonder?
As to why Lady Malpas had wanted to dispose of him, the answer was all too obvious.
She wanted to be rid of a husband she had never wanted.
He’d guessed that she would never accept their union.
Still, he had never imagined that she would resort to cold-blooded murder.
He might have been impressed by her doggedness had he not been the intended victim.
As he was her intended victim, he decided to keep his admiration to himself.
With effort, he opened his eyes again. “Gwyn, go find Katherine, the English scullion, and ask her to come to my room.”
“To your room? Now?”
Gwyn’s raised eyebrows spoke of begrudging admiration.
He thought his master lusty enough to want to bed a woman moments after having escaped death.
Siaspar did not know whether to be flattered by the young man’s faith in his virility or laugh at the ludicrousness of the idea.
Because he had no energy to spare, he did neither.
“Have her come immediately. I need to speak to her.”
That his master would want to speak to a scullion seemed to surprise Gwyn even more. Nevertheless, he bowed and left the room.
It was not long before Katherine walked in, diffidence written all over her face. Her eyes darted to the wrist he had purposefully hidden under the covers. So he had been right, she knew about his injury. Not that he’d been in any doubt about what she had done.
“Come closer,” he ordered when she remained by the door frame. “I think you know why I called you here.”
“I’m afraid I’m not sure, my lord.”
Siaspar clenched his jaw, but then he thought twice of his first, instinctive reaction.
After all, it could be true. If Gwyn had thought it possible that he should want to bed her, why should she not think the same thing?
It would not be the first time or even the second time that he had done so and he was already lying in bed, for all intents and purposes, ready for a tumble.
Or her wariness could be due to the fact that she thought he was about to bark at her.
Given the manner of their last two encounters, he could not blame her for thinking thus.
She might be expecting another scolding.
No wonder she was looking nervous.
But Siaspar did not intend to put her under accusation today. He knew he owed her his life. Whatever her motives, he would be dead had she not intervened when she had and knowing he should have died made him grateful to the person who had saved his life.
“I called you here because I wanted to thank you,” he said bluntly.
“Thank me?”
“Yes. We both know why.” He took his bandaged wrist from under the covers.
She inhaled but did not betray any surprise.
So, he’d been right. She knew about the injury.
“I believe you know what this is?” She lowered her gaze, unable to deny it.
“What I don’t understand is why you did it, going expressly against your mistress’ wishes. ”
Katherine paled at the question. He understood there and then that, if Lady Malpas had wished him dead, the little scullion had nothing to do with it.
“She doesn’t know I helped you, she isn’t aware I saw her…do what she did,” she finished in a small voice.
She brought her hand to her temple like someone who could not bear to remember the dreadful scene.
“Sit down,” Siaspar ordered. “You’re about to faint.” All color had drained from her face, and he did not want her to pass out now.
“Thank you.” With those words, she made to go to the chair.
“No, sit here on the bed, next to me. I cannot talk to you if you have your back turned.” He saw her hesitate. “Come, I think you and I are past all this. I bedded you, you saved my life. I think, in the circumstances, we can forego convention. Sit, before you fall down.”
Her paleness was truly alarming. She looked just as drained as he felt.
Still, she made no move to come closer. Any other time, he would have marched her to the bed, but right now he did not trust himself to stand up.
Not only had the effect of the potion not quite worn off, but the loss of blood had left him weaker than he had ever been.
Eventually she complied.
“Now, I know what you did, but I don’t know why. Or even how. You said you saw Lady Malpas cut me but my wife and I were alone at the time.”
Siaspar frowned because it was possible that he was mistaken. His back had been to the door during their discussion about Cadell. Had Katherine slipped into the room at that point, he would not have noticed her.
But then surely Lady Malpas would have objected to her interruption?
“I saw everything because I was hiding behind the curtains in the bed.”
Hiding? That was a surprise.
Siaspar lifted an eyebrow in a silent encouragement to continue.
“I had come to light the fire and replace the rushes in preparation for your return. Mel, the girl who usually does it, was taken ill that afternoon. She has been kind to me and I offered to help. When I heard your voice at the bottom of the stairs, I panicked and hid in the only place I could. It was a stupid thing to do, but I knew you would never believe me if I said I had not been sent to spy on you.”
Siaspar thought hard. Perhaps he should have questioned this explanation, but there was something about the artlessness with which Katherine spoke that rang true.
Besides, it would be easy to check if that girl, Mel, had really been ill.
He knew the one she meant, one of the rare people at Castell y Ddraig who could speak English.
It wouldn’t be surprising if the two of them had become friends.
“Very well,” he said quietly, deciding to accept her word. The floor had indeed been strewn with fresh rushes and it made sense that she should be wary of being found somewhere she had no business being, considering the suspicion he held her in.
The day she had come to him to tell him she was not with child, he had mocked her, but perhaps Katherine was a fundamentally honest person. Such people existed, he knew. Cadell, his sister—hell, himself. They sometimes made mistakes, but they were not of the same ilk as Lady Malpas.
“You believe me, then? You are not angry?” Katherine opened huge eyes.
This very na?ve question convinced him he had been right to give her the benefit of the doubt and even raised a smile out of him. No, whatever she might have done, this woman was not a devious schemer.
“It is difficult to be angry when your intervention is the only reason I’m still alive,” he said roundly. “Which brings me to my second question. Why did you save me? You could have left me to bleed to death.”
“Never!”