Chapter 12 #2
“You really are unbearable, you know that?” Lady Malpas’ voice was heavy with scorn.
As predicted, her resolve not to rankle him had been forgotten as soon as she had realized that they would indeed go to England, no matter what she did or said.
And now that they were actually on the road, she never missed an opportunity to rankle or contradict her husband.
The nearer to the border they got, the more invincible she seemed to feel.
“Maybe I am unbearable. But in my experience, we tend to see in others what we are ourselves,” was all Siaspar said, before heading toward the men who were seeing to the horses.
Having completed the washing of the dishes, Katherine joined the three ladies sitting by the campfire.
Unlike them, who clearly endured the hardship of the travel as a necessary evil, she loved being outside.
It reminded her of her childhood. The woods around them were surprisingly similar to the forest she considered home.
Had she not known she was in another country, miles away from her village, she might have been fooled into thinking Harry or Annette would appear at any moment.
Night was falling when Siaspar walked toward them with his usual lazy strides. She knew the impression of ease he gave was just that, an impression. He could have broken into a run in the blink of an eye had attackers sprung from behind them or drawn his sword to cut a man’s throat in a heartbeat.
“Ladies, I am in need of assistance. A few stitches have come undone on my gambeson,” he said in his best impersonal voice. “Could one of you see to it?”
The three women exchanged swift glances, loath to take on the task.
“Katherine is far more skilled with a needle than we are, or so we have been led to believe,” Lady Helen eventually offered. “I am sure she can attend to it.”
Siaspar nodded, as if it did not matter to him one way or another who took care of the garment. “It’s over there. Come.”
He turned on his heel before Katherine could agree or disagree. She followed, certain he had planned this all along, relying on the contempt the ladies held him in to ensure a moment in private with her.
“I will do my best, my lord, but I confess that I am rather daunted and hope not to make mistakes. I have never attempted to stitch anything as thick as a gambeson,” she said as soon as they were out of earshot.
He gave a low laugh. “I would be amazed if you had. My squire is really the one who would see to it, even supposing such an undertaking was needed. But I’ll let you in on a little secret: I haven’t even got a gambeson with me at the moment.”
“Why did you come and ask for help to mend it then?”
He stopped to look her in the face. There was a dark light lurking in his eye, a light she knew all too well—and had come to love.
“Because I wanted to see you, but I did not want to ask for you by name. Fortunately, I can rely on Lady Malpas and her ladies’ dislike of me. I knew they would send you to do whatever was required. I trust that you will not give me away?”
“No, I swear it.” Katherine laughed a little breathlessly. Siaspar had made the whole thing up just so that he could see her alone. The notion had lit a small fire inside her. “Indeed, they do not consider you very highly.”
He looked pleased rather than offended. “It is good to see that my efforts at gruffness are not wasted.”
“You know, instead of going out of your way to confirm their low opinion of you, you could try to convince them that you are not a savage,” she pointed out.
It would require a lot less effort. If she, who had been forced to bed him when her whole being rebelled against the notion, could change her mind about him so spectacularly, ladies who held nothing more against him than their mistress’ misguided preconceptions would no doubt prove easier to convince.
“Is that what you think?” Siaspar asked in a low voice. “That I’m not a savage?” She could tell he was fighting a smile.
“It is. How could I think otherwise?”
“Ask Lady Malpas—or Lady Helen. They will tell you.”
“Yes, but they have not… They— You did not…” Katherine could not finish her sentence. Fortunately, it was dark, for she guessed she had gone red to the roots of her hair.
“You mean that they have not been intimate with me,” Siaspar supplied diplomatically.
“Yes.”
“Contrary to you.”
“Yes.”
“And based on what happened in bed between us, you decided that I was not a savage. I am flattered—and touched.”
There was no irony in his tone, only something she did not dare identify as tenderness. She was reminded of the kiss he had given her on their second night together, on the temple. Yes, forbidding and manly as he was, Siaspar could do tenderness.
“Why did you want to see me, if not to mend your non-existent gambeson?”
His answer came as a shock. “I don’t know. I just did. Walk with me a while. Please.”
Please?
Dumbfounded, Katherine started to walk toward the river, leading the way.
By her side, Siaspar was silent. She did not know how to behave when he was not the one leading the conversation.
Never had she met anyone as intense as he was.
Even when he did not say a word, she felt his presence deep in her bones and withstanding his piercing stare was almost impossible without wanting to speak to alleviate the tension.
Siaspar had not lied when he had told Katherine he had no idea what had pushed him to go and find her.
He only knew that the need had been impossible to ignore.
Now that they were nearing the border with England, he found himself getting oddly despondent.
He had only ever left Wales once, to go visit his sister just before his wedding but at the time he had elected to sail, precisely because he had wanted to avoid going into a country where people would have negative preconceptions about him.
The retinue would reach England sometime tomorrow, and Siaspar felt like he was about to walk into a trap.
In his country, he was well known and respected. In England, he would be little more than a savage.
Except in Katherine’s eyes. He knew she would never make him feel inferior, or even different.
“I heard your conversation with Lady Malpas earlier,” she said after a while, as if unable to bear the silence any longer.
“I thought you would, seeing as you were so close.”
“You saw me?”
“Yes.”
He had done more than see her, during their conversation.
He had steered Lady Malpas toward the river purposefully.
Siaspar always seemed to know where Katherine was.
Without looking for her, he somehow always found her.
When walking into a room, his gaze was instantly drawn to her.
Out in the open, some instinct told him where she was.
He had stopped wondering about it; it just felt natural now.
In just a few weeks she had become an integral part of his world, an extension of himself.
Being with her was giving him the satisfaction and companionship that were lacking in his marriage.
“Why are you telling me that you heard us?” he asked her, coming to a halt. They had reached the riverbank. In front of them, the river had been transformed into a rippling, dark pool over which the moon had scattered a thousand shards of light. The effect was spellbinding.
“I don’t know. I suppose I wanted to tell you that I don’t consider myself as one of your victors.”