She'd turned all of the others away, because most of them were more interested in becoming an earl than they were in her. But Rodney was differentâattentive and charming and altogether persuasive. Kathryn found herself envisioning a life with him as a cherished wife and mother of his children.
If his eye roamed over the kitchen maids now and then, who would censor a bachelor for behaving thus? Once he was happily married to her he would stop such behavior, she was sure.
Married.
To Rodney.
The idea grew of its own accord and the fluttering feeling started once more.
Rodney tugged her closer. “Tell me I may speak with your father.” He kissed her again and he touched her bodice.
She jerked away from him and for a brief moment hard anger showed on his face. But the look was so fleeting she doubted she really saw it.
He drew a deep breath. “I'm sorry, Kathryn, love. Forgive me. I cannot seem to help myself.”
Surely Rodney must care for her to have such strong feelings toward her. And she must love him to feel the way she did, all loose and fluttery and, dare she think it? Warm and soft. Aye, this must indeed be love.
What if he did speak sharply to the servants? And what did it matter that he didn't attend morning mass? One couldn't expect perfection in a prospective spouse. The hand of a gentle woman such as Kathryn would tame his lesser inclinations.
Rodney pulled her close again and kissed her until her knees nearly gave way.
He loves me.
“Talk to Papa, Rodney,” she said breathlessly.
His face lit up with joy. Aye, she was sure it was joy and not triumph. “I'll speak with him yet tonight. Then there will be nothing to keep us from bliss.”
He held her close again and murmured in her ear. “May I come to your chamber after I've received your father's blessing?”
His strong arms enfolded her and her heart pounded at the thought of Rodney's suggestion. Betrothed couples often engaged in intimacy before the actual wedding. The Church taught that she should wait, that though a betrothal was a legal contract, a betrothal could be broken. Marital relations were only sanctioned within the commitment of marriage. But since neither she nor Rodney had cause to break the agreement, what harm could there be?
They were in love. And she longed to know the secrets her body yearned to discover.
She swallowed. “Aye, come to me.”
Rodney kissed her again with what seemed like reverence. “I will hasten to you, love, as soon as your father says yes to our betrothal.” They stood and walked to the keep's entrance where they said good night and parted amidst promises of undying love and devotion.
LATER THAT NIGHT as the rest of the castle slept, Rodney stole into her chamber and to her bedside, stroking her long hair. “My bride,” he whispered. “You will soon be my bride.”
Kathryn shivered with pleasure at his touch, and thrilled at the knowledge that soon she would be a married woman. Papa had said yes! Rodney was a fine choice, and he made her feel so beautiful, so desirable.
And so it was that Kathryn gave herself to the man who would be her husband.
The pleasures of marriage were indeed a prize, and for hours, Rodney cradled her in his arms, delighting her with his tender touch. She had not known what it would be to lay beside a man, to be one with him. She had not known the joy that awaited her. Marriage would be a gift, and Rodney a fine husband . . . Just as she was dozing off, he suddenly moved away, letting cold air beneath their warm covers. Kathryn blinked rapidly, trying to focus. He pulled on his trousers and his shirt, then his boots.
“I will see you in the morning,” he said over his shoulder as he walked away.
Kathryn rose to a sitting position, confused at his brusque manner. She clung to the sheet at her breast. What of the tender words he had spoken earlier? What was this chill that ran across her bare shoulders? Licking her parched lips, she quickly pulled the blanket up farther, feeling suddenly . . . exposed. But that was sillyâhe was her betrothed. They had only done what countless engaged couples had done before them.
“Rodney?”
He turned in the doorway. “Tomorrow. Sleep now.” And with that, he was gone.
She lay back against the down pillows, struggling to reclaim the sweet drowsiness that had almost claimed her. He was merely tired, as she was. And it wouldn't do to have her maid discover them together in the morning, betrothed or not. But the fingers of guilt played with her heart. Papa would certainly be disappointed if he knew what she'd done.
She hadn't expected this; she had expected gratification, fulfillment, completion.
Instead she felt robbed.
PAPA WASN'T FEELING WELL the next morning and sent a servant to ask Kathryn to come to him after mass. Though the guilt continued to nag as she walked to the chapel for mass, she pushed it aside. They were in love, Papa had obviously given Rodney his blessing, and God would surely forgive her. When such thoughts did little to pacify her conscience, she vowed to resist Rodney's temptation again until they were properly wed.
To her surprise, Rodney attended the service and sat next to her. She smiled in satisfaction. Already their impending marriage was working good in his heart. He whisked her out of the chapel as soon as the last prayer was finished. “Rodney!” she said with a giggle, “what is this rush?”
With a nervous smile he said, “Come. I've talked Cook into packing us a picnic.” He took hold of her elbow and propelled her toward the stable.
She wrested her arm from him and stopped walking. “I must speak with my father, Rodney.”
He scowled but quickly recovered with a charming smile. “Your father will understand if he is no longer first in your affections, love. And I am most anxious to get you alone again.”
Rodney swung her into his arms and around a secluded corner, kissing her so passionately that she forgot about Papa, forgot about her decision to hold Rodney off until they were married. This pursuit, the thrill of desireâit was a difficult thing to say no to. No wonder the betrothed often gave up on their intentions to wait! She smiled in flirtatious, silent agreement and Rodney beamed his pleasure.
Hand in hand they ran to the stable and were about to saddle a horse when Cook's son, Fergus, came into the barn.
“Yer father wants to see ye, Lady Kathryn.”
Rodney stepped between them. “The lady and I are going on a picnic. Tell her father she will see him when we return.”
Fergus looked at Kathryn with uncertainty and said, “My lady?”
Before she could respond, Rodney grasped her elbow with more force than was necessary and she nearly yelped at the pain of his grip. She attempted to pull free but he didn't let go. “Rodney, you're hurting me.”
Fergus stepped closer. “My lady, are ye all right?”
She nodded to Fergus but one look at Rodney's furious expression and she wondered for the first time if she was, indeed, all right.
Rodney said, “Be gone, boy. The lady will attend her father when we return.”
Fergus stepped closer yet and stared meaningfully at Rodney's hand where it still clamped fast to her elbow. Boldly he glared at Rodney. “I'll not leave until ye release Kathryn's arm and allow her to talk with her father. I don't take my orders from ye. I take them from the earl.”
Kathryn and Fergus had been friends all through their growing up and sometimes she and Fergus forgot that he was a servant. But Rodney wasn't likely to forget the distinction and Kathryn knew she must defray the tension between the two men.
“I'm all right, Fergus.” She turned to Rodney and said, “I will only be a few minutes with Papa. Then we can go on our picnic.” She smiled brightly, but Rodney continued to glower. His grip loosened but his resolve did not. “You'll obey
me
now, Kathryn.”
Shocked at his tone of voice, she stared at him. Fergus unwisely pushed at Rodney's arm. “The devil she will. Who are ye to order Lady Kathryn about?”
Shrugging off Fergus's hand, Rodney declared, “I am the man who will be her husband.”
“Ye forget I was tending to the earl when ye spoke to him last evening. He didn't seem too keen on a wedding.”
Kathryn gasped. She fought for air, for understanding. “Is that true, Rodney? Papa did not give us his blessing?”
Rodney dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. “Your father only wants you to tell him it's what you want before he'll sign the betrothal agreement.”
“Then there's no harm in my going to him before we depart.”
Looking rather pleased with himself, Rodney said, “I'm sure your father will see things differently this morning.”
“What have ye done, Kat?” Fergus stared at her and she could feel her face turn crimson.
“The lady does not answer to you,” Rodney said.
“I have done nothing wrong,” she lied.
Fergus stared hard at her. “I hope not, for all our sakes. Don't go with him, today, Kat. He's using ye to get Homelea.”
“That's enough!” Rodney shouted. He shoved Fergus out of the way and grabbed Kathryn's arm so tightly she cried out from the pain. Fergus dived at Rodney's legs and they went down in a tumble, Kathryn spared from a fall at the last second when Rodney let go of her arm. She stumbled backward and watched in horror as Rodney grabbed a riding crop and slapped Fergus across the face with it. The lash caught Fergus across his left eye, baring the brow bone and marking the lid.
Fergus fell away, stunned. Kathryn placed herself in front of Fergus to spare him another blow. When Rodney paused, wiping his upper lip of sweat, she turned to Fergus and nearly fainted at the sight of his blood pouring from the split skin. The eye was already swelling and she feared he would lose his sight.
Rodney stood and stared at Fergus with contempt. “Maybe now you will mind your betters.”
“And is this how you intend to enforce
my
obedience, my laird?” she demanded, gesturing toward the crop still in his hand.
“Don't be ridiculous, Kathryn. There are better ways to inspire a wife to be compliant.” The lecherous look he gave her had little to do with the gentleman he'd pretended to be these past weeks of his courtship.
Had she been played for a fool? It wasn't possible . . . was it? She loved him, though! And he loved her! But if that was so, what had made him lash out at Fergus, to speak to her with such contempt? Where was the kind suitor who'd sworn his undying love just hours ago in her chamber?
She looked at him now, at his smug air of superiority, so sure that she would bow to his will as everyone always seemed to do. Handsome Rodney, so sure the world would give him what he wanted simply because of his comeliness and charm. Disgust roiled through her at Rodney's behavior and was soon joined by guilt at her own complicity in what now became clear. Rodney's seduction had been aimed, not at her heart, but at her inheritance. Confused and unwilling to confront Rodney and the truth, she turned her attention to her friend; she ripped a strip of material from her chemise and held it to Fergus's wound, then helped him to sit up and lean against the stall.
Fergus put his hand on the makeshift bandage and said, “Send him away, Kathryn. He means ye no good.”
“I should take you to Annaâ”
“I'm all right for the moment.”
She'd been so sure of herself last night that she'd given her heart and her body to Rodney. In light of what had taken place here in the stable her certainty crumbled. Rodney's temper had been both unprovoked and uncalled for under the circumstances.
She took a deep breath and straightened to face Rodney. “Did you speak to my father?”
“Of course I did.”
“And did he or did he not give us his blessing?”
“We
will
marry, Kathryn,” Rodney said.
“You haven't answered my question.”
“He will say yes when you tell him you agree.”
Rodney had lied.
Dear God, forgive me. What have I done?
He'd come to her as a husband and let her think that her father had said yes to his suit for marriage.
She'd committed an offense against her father and against God.
She looked at Rodney now and he seemed unaffected by her distress. She had given herself to a man who had no honor. He was smiling and she realized that his seduction had been planned all along. To ensure that she would have to marry him. Did he even love her? She doubted it. The thought of it, the breath-stealing ache of knowledge, threatened to take her to her knees. Her virtue, gone. Forever. And to a man who didn't truly love her!
But Kathryn knew that she must accept some responsibility for what she done. Rodney was not solely to blame. And she wanted no more bloodshed or violence.
“It isn't me you want, is it?” she asked, sure that her heart couldn't hurt worse. She fought to keep her chin up, her eyes steady. She had to face this.
“Marrying you will be no hardship, Kathryn. And it will bring me a title and wealth. The fees from the river crossing alone will make us very wealthy.”
The river crossing. Papa and Rodney discussed the issue more than once and Papa was quite opposed to the idea. No wonder he hadn't given Rodney an answer until he was certain how Kathryn felt. Papa would not stand in the way of her happiness, she knew. But she seriously doubted that Rodney would make her happy. Not if he could harm someone the way he'd just lashed out at Fergus. Not if he could lie to her with his words and with his body in order to claim what he wanted. And she'd fallen for his lies, fallen as far as a women could fall.
But did she have the courage to turn Rodney away after last night? No other man would claim her, a used woman! But what was the alternative? Life with a man she could not trust?
Calling on God for the strength to see this through, she said with a shaking voice, “Leave Homelea, Rodney. I will not agree to marry a man who has so little honor.”