Chapter 11
The next time she saw Siaspar, Katherine was dressed in Lady Malpas’ blue gown—and feeling as different from her usual self as if she had been forced to don a nun’s habit.
The dress was not just an article of clothing.
It affected the way she moved and even her stance when she was not moving.
The fur was soft on her wrists, the fabric heavy against her thighs, making her feel womanly and beautiful, something she had rarely, if ever, felt, before.
When Siaspar’s gaze landed on her, she felt herself flush. Though she had heard him disparage the dress earlier, she could see that her intuition had been right. There was not the least trace of disproval in his eyes. Lady Malpas, and not the dress itself, was the issue, that much was clear.
“Good afternoon, my lord.”
After checking that no one was around, feeling very bold, Katherine decided to forego the usual curtsy. Siaspar didn’t even seem to notice, which increased her heartbeat another notch. It was as if, for him, it were normal that they should behave so naturally one with the other.
“Why, I would not have known you, Katherine. You look…”
“Like a lady?” she ventured when he stopped, though she knew she would never look as refined as that. Her hands were scratched and red and her manners, say what he might, were that of a blacksmith’s daughter.
But Siaspar smiled and tilted his head. “Indeed. Just like a lady.”
“Coming from a brewer’s grandson, I’m not sure I should put too much score on the compliment. You might well be too easily impressed.”
“Oh, you can safely assume I know what I’m talking about,” he assured her, becoming deadly serious. “I am not so lowly that I was born in a brewery and have seen many a lady in my life. And you look more enchanting than all of them put together.”
Katherine loved this exchange between them. For a heady moment, she could fool herself into believing that she was indeed a great lady talking to a lord who was her equal. They certainly looked the part, her in the fur-trimmed dress and him in his most resplendent tunic.
“So I do not look too English for you?”
He looked at her thoroughly, as if trying to decide whether she did or not.
“Oddly, no,” he said eventually. “Not at all.”
“Until I speak, that is. Then I do not sound remotely Welsh.”
“No. You do not.” He gave a chuckle. “But I do not hold it against you. I cannot, when you sound so delightful.”
Delightful. Enchanting. What next?
She was about to say something—though, what, she wasn’t sure—when a voice was heard behind her.
“My lady, I need to ask for your opinion on—” Lady Helen stopped in her tracks when Katherine turned around and she was faced with someone she did not know instead of Lady Malpas. She let out a strangled croak and directed her next question to Siaspar. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Allow me to explain,” he answered, as composed as usual. “This is…” He turned to Katherine and tilted his head as if to ask her what her name was. She lowered her eyes to the floor to hide her smile.
Catrin.
“Katherine, my lord.”
“Katherine.”
He managed to make it sound as if he had never heard the name before in his life.
She marveled at his ability to dissemble.
Then she remembered how he had done his best to make her talk and betray herself on their second night together.
This man was a master at deception, much more than she or Lady Malpas would ever be.
“Katherine here will take your mistress’ place when the tailors come later today,” he explained to the lady in waiting. “Her ladyship has deemed it below her dignity to wait while measurements for the dresses are made. Fortunately for her, you will agree, my dear Lady Ellen, that—”
“My name is Lady Helen, my lord,” the woman interrupted crisply.
From the way Siaspar’s lips curled, Katherine understood that the mistake had been deliberate. So, he had no more love for the lady than he did for his wife. Interesting.
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“You are saying Lady Ellen. It’s Lady Helen.”
He blinked once, the face of a man bewildered by something he didn’t understand.
“You will agree, Lady Helen,” he said with exaggerated emphasis on the H, “that Katherine here is a perfect replacement for Lady Malpas. Why, you have just mistaken her for your mistress. They are almost identical in every way, as you can tell from the way this gown fits her. I defy anyone to know one from the other. I wager even I could be fooled myself in the right circumstances.”
Katherine bit the inside of her mouth to stop herself from laughing when he gave his most angelic smile. Nothing had ever given her more pleasure than seeing Siaspar at his most mischievous.
Well.
Except for one thing.
Having him make love to her with exquisite skill.
“This girl, whoever she is, is nothing like my mistress,” Lady Helen said haughtily.
Whoever she is.
This was not just a comment aimed at being dismissive. It was clear that the lady genuinely didn’t remember her. And why should she? The only time she had truly looked at her had been when she had instructed her to go report to the kitchen over two months ago.
“I was merely pointing out that for dressmaking purposes she will do admirably. She has the same proportions as your mistress’s.
” Siaspar carried on. “But other than that, I agree with you, there’s no comparison between the two.
She has a much more pleasant countenance than Lady Malpas, who doesn’t seem to know how to smile.
” Straightening himself to his full height, he nodded his dismissal.
“Now please, leave us. Go and ask Lady Malpas whatever it was you wanted to ask her. We are busy.”
Lady Helen left with a scowl on her face.
“Finally,” Siaspar said, allowing a smile to bloom on his lips. “I can’t stand the old bat.”
“Oh, my lord!” Katherine exclaimed, falsely scandalized. “What an ungenerous thing to say.”
“Maybe. But true nonetheless. Don’t tell me that she doesn’t put you in mind of the animal?”
Thinking back to the lady’s scowls, Katherine had to admit that he was right. How had she not seen it before? “There may be something of the bat in her attitude,” she conceded slowly. “But I have yet to see her fangs.”
Siaspar laughed. “You are jesting, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Helen had fangs, you know. But, as she doesn’t smile any more than her mistress does, I fear that we will never know.”
“You, on the other hand, remind me of a fox.”
A stupefied silence followed her declaration. Katherine felt her eyes widen in horror. What had possessed her to say something like that out loud? The thought had struck her, which was bad enough, but then the words had left her lips before she could think.
Siaspar ran a hand through his hair and looked at her from under his lashes. “A fox?” he asked slowly.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I don’t know why I said that. I did not mean to be impertinent, my lord.”
“No, I imagine you didn’t, as you don’t seem to have an impertinent bone in your body. But I confess I’m curious. Why a fox? I do not have ginger hair,” he pointed out, ruffling his hair further.
“I know, it’s just… It’s the way you move. Silent, elegant, graceful.” She reddened. Sometimes predatory. But she could not say that. What she had said was embarrassing enough.
“A fox then. Oh well, I suppose that it could be worse.”
The smile he threw her illustrated better than a thousand words why she thought him like the animal. Yes. Predatory. Dangerous.
Entrancing.
“As for you, I would have to settle for a dragonfly. Or a cat.”
Katherine burst out laughing, relieved he had not taken issue with her inappropriate comment. “These are two startlingly different animals, wouldn’t you say?”
“They are. But you have both their vivacity and a placidity many people would envy.”
This struck her as both the oddest and most wonderful compliment she had ever received. The next time she saw a cat—a dragonfly would be more difficult here in the castle—she would think of Siaspar.
“Lady Malpas, of course, is nothing but a churlish mule,” he added. “But I’m sure you had figured this out for yourself.”
Katherine let out another laugh. Just then, two men were introduced into the great hall.
Immediately, she tried to revert to a more seemly attitude, but Siaspar didn’t seem in the least ashamed of being caught bantering with a scullion.
Of course she didn’t look like a servant in this instant, or even a rich villager.
She would, to the men who did not know her, look like a lady. They would see nothing amiss on the fact that the two of them were engaged in conversation.
The men started to speak to him in rapid Welsh. After a moment the eldest of the two turned to her and launched himself into a lengthy declaration.
“This is the tailor. He hopes you will forgive him, but he doesn’t speak English.”
Siaspar’s translation no doubt cut to the heart of the matter. The man had spoken at least a dozen sentences.
“Please. Why should he speak my language? I’m the one who is not at home,” Katherine replied hurriedly. When Siaspar relayed her words back to the men, they stared as if she had just admitted to having sprouted wings earlier that morning. “Did I say something wrong?” she whispered, worried.
“No,” he said slowly. “I think they are surprised to hear an English woman say that she should be the one conforming to their customs. As would I be, if I didn’t know you already.
But I know you aren’t anything like the arrogant invaders who consider themselves at home in our country and better than us. ”
People like Lady Malpas he meant. She nodded. Indeed she didn’t care to be considered like that.
The youngest tailor intervened next.
“They will show you the materials they have brought, if it pleases you,” Siaspar promptly translated.