A Knight in Shining Armour (60 page)

But as the days progressed, Lady Margaret refused to see just how attached Nicholas was becoming to her. When at last Lady Margaret had really looked at her household, what she saw did not please her. Her youngest son loved the woman to the point of obsession. Her eldest son spoke of giving the girl great riches, and Kit’s future wife talked of little else except what Dougless said or did.

As did the rest of the household. “Dougless says children should not be swaddled.” “Dougless says the wound must be washed.” “Dougless says my husband had no right to beat me.” “Dougless says a woman should have control of her own money.” Dougless says, Dougless says, Lady Margaret thought. Who ran the Stafford household? Did the Staffords or this girl who lied about her relatives?

And now she stood before Lady Margaret weeping, weeping as she had done for days. Lady Margaret clenched her teeth when she thought of how the tears of this one woman were affecting everyone.

But worse, she knew that these tears would affect Nicholas. Nicholas who said he loved her, Nicholas who talked of breaking a betrothal because of this woman who had nothing, who was nothing. Yet this woman, to whom Lady Margaret had given so much, now threatened everything in her family. Were Nicholas to disavow his contract with the Culpin family . . . No, she did not like to think what could happen.

The red-haired woman
must
go.

Lady Margaret’s mouth set into a firm, hard line. “The runner has come from Lanconia. You are no princess. You are related to no one in the royal house. Who are you?”

“J-just a woman. No one special,” Dougless said, sniffing.

“We have given you all that our house has to offer, yet you have lied to us.”

“Yes, I have.” Dougless kept her head down, agreeing with everything. There was nothing anyone could say to her to make her feel worse. The marriage was to take place this morning. Today Nicholas would marry his beautiful Lettice.

Lady Margaret took a breath. “On the morrow you will leave us. You will take what clothes you came in, no more, and you will be sent forever from the Stafford house.”

It took a moment for Dougless to understand. She looked at Lady Margaret, blinking at her through tear-filled eyes. “Leave? But Nicholas wishes me to stay, to be here when he returns.”

“Do you think his wife will wish to see you? My foolish son has grown too attached to you. You do him harm.”

“I would
never
harm Nicholas. I came here to save him, not to hurt him.”

Lady Margaret glared at her. “From whence do you come? Where did you live before you came here?”

Dougless clamped her mouth shut. She could say nothing, absolutely nothing. If she told Lady Margaret the truth, Dougless’s life would be worth nothing, and there would never be a chance of her seeing Nicholas again. “I . . . I will provide entertainments,” Dougless said, her voice desperate. “I know more songs, more games. And I can tell you many more stories about America. I could tell you about airplanes and automobiles and—”

Lady Margaret put up her hand. “I weary of your amusements. I cannot feed and clothe you. Who are you? A peasant’s daughter?”

“My father teaches, and I teach too. Lady Margaret, you can’t throw me out. I have nowhere to go, and Nicholas needs me. I have to protect him as I protected Kit. I saved Kit’s life, remember? He offered me a house then. I’ll take it now.”

“You asked for your reward and received it. Due to you, my son works as a tradesman.”

“But—” Dougless put out her hands, pleading.

“You will go. We harbor no liars here.”

“I’ll wash dishes,” Dougless said, pleading. “I’ll be the family physician. I can’t do worse than the leeches. I’ll—”

“You will
leave!”
Lady Margaret half shouted, her eyes glistening like precious stones. “I will have you no longer in my house. My son asked to be released from his betrothal for you.”

“He did?” Dougless almost smiled. “He never told me.”

“You disarray my household. You bewitch my son till he does not know his duty. Be you glad I do not have a whip taken to you.”

“This is better? Sending me out there, into those . . . those people? Sending me away from Nicholas?”

Lady Margaret stood up, then turned her back on Dougless. “I will not argue with you. Say your farewells this day, and on the morrow you will be sent from my house. Now go. I do not wish to see you again.”

Numbly, Dougless turned and left the room. Not seeing anything, she made her way back to Honoria’s room. Honoria took one look at her face and guessed what was wrong.

“Lady Margaret has sent you away?” Honoria whispered.

Dougless nodded.

“Do you have a place to go? One who will take care of you?”

Dougless shook her head. “I will be leaving Nicholas to that evil woman.”

“Lady Lettice?” Honoria asked, puzzled. “The woman is cool perhaps, but I do not believe she is evil.”

“You don’t know her.”

“You do?”

“I know a great deal about her. I know what she’s going to do.”

Honoria had learned to ignore these odd remarks of Dougless’s. She thought perhaps that she didn’t want to know all there was to know about Dougless. “Where will you go?”

“I have no idea.”

“Do you have relatives?”

Dougless gave a weak smile. “Probably. I imagine there are some sixteenth-century Montgomerys about somewhere.”

“But you do not know them?”

“I only know Nicholas.” Nicholas who was by now, no doubt, married. She had thought she had choices, that she could choose to stay or go, but now it looked as though her fate had been decided for her. “I know Nicholas, and I know what will happen,” she said tiredly.

“You shall go to my family,” Honoria said firmly. “They will love your games and songs. They will care for you.”

Dougless managed a bit of a smile. “That’s very kind of you, but if I can’t stay with Nicholas, I don’t want to stay here at all.”

Honoria’s face whitened. “Suicide is against God.”

“God,” Dougless whispered and tears came to her eyes. “God did this to me, and now it’s all going wrong.” She closed her eyes. “Please,” she whispered, eyes closed. “Please, Nicholas, don’t marry her. I beg you, please.”

Concerned, Honoria went to Dougless and felt her forehead. “You are warm. This day you must remain in bed. You are ill.”

“I am past ill,” Dougless said as she allowed Honoria to push her down on the bed. She barely felt Honoria’s hands unfastening the front of her dress as she closed her eyes.

Hours later she opened her eyes to see a darkened room. She was in Honoria’s bed wearing only her linen gown, her hair down. Her pillow was wet, so she knew she had been crying while she slept.

“Nicholas,” she whispered. Married now. Married to the woman who would kill him, who would eventually kill all the Staffords. Dougless closed her eyes again. When she awoke next it was night outside and the room was very dark. Honoria was asleep beside her.

Something is wrong, Dougless thought. Very wrong. She remembered Lady Margaret telling her that she must leave the Stafford family, but there was something else.

“Nicholas,” she whispered. “Nicholas needs me.”

She got out of bed and went into the hall. All was quiet. Barefoot, she went down the stairs, her feet moving about under the dried river rushes on the floor. She went out the back toward the garden, following where instinct and some indefinable pull led her.

She went across the brick terrace, down the stairs, along the raised walk, then turned into the knot garden. There was only a quarter moon, so it was very dark, but she didn’t need to see, for she had an inner sight.

As she approached the garden, she heard the fountain splashing, the fountain where she had showered each morning until Nicholas left. She had not been outside since Nicholas rode away.

There, standing in the fountain, his body nude, covered in soap lather, was Nicholas.

Dougless didn’t think, and certainly used no reason. One minute she was outside the fountain, and the next she was in Nicholas’s wet arms, holding him, kissing him with all the desperation and fear that she felt.

Everything happened too suddenly for her to stop and think. She was in his arms; they were on the ground; she was nude. They came together with a clash of pent-up desire that made Dougless cry out. Nicholas, not gently, no, not gentle at all, bent her body backward over a stone bench and rammed into her with blinding force. Dougless held on to his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, put her legs about his waist, and held on.

Fast, furious, frantic, they tore at each other. Their bodies, covered with sweat, stuck together as they rose and fell together, again, again, again.

When at last they finished, Nicholas put his strong hands under her and lifted her to meet his final deep, deep thrust. Dougless cried out as the world darkened and her body stiffened as she found release.

It was a while before she recovered herself and could see again, think again. Nicholas was grinning at her, his teeth white. Even in the darkness she could see his happiness.

But Dougless was beginning to think. “What have we done?” she whispered.

Nicholas unwrapped her legs from his body and pulled her to stand before him. “We have just begun.”

She was blinking at him, trying to make her mind work, because her body was trembling at the touch of him. The tips of her breasts were touching his chest and they were tingling. “Why are you here? Oh, God, Nicholas, what have we done?” She started to sit on the bench, but he pulled her into his arms.

“Later there will be time for words,” he said. “Now I will do what I have much wanted to do.”

“No,” she said as she pushed away from him. She was fumbling about for the remnants of her gown. “We have to talk now. There will be no time later. Nicholas!” Her voice was rising. “We will have
no more time!”

He pulled her back into his arms. “You do still insist you will disappear? Here, look you, we have tasted—merely tasted—of one another, yet you do remain.”

How could she tell him? She collapsed on the bench, her head down. “I knew you were here. I felt you. And just as I knew you needed me, I know that this is our last night together.”

Nicholas didn’t speak, but after a moment he sat down on the bench beside her, very close, but their nude bodies were not touching. “I have always felt you,” he said softly. “This night you heard my call, but it has always been so with me. After I left I . . .” He paused. “I felt your tears. I could hear nothing but your weeping. I could not see Lettice for seeing you in your tears.”

Putting out his hand, he took hers. “I left the woman. I said naught, not even to Kit. I took my horse and rode. When I should have been saying vows, I was riding to you. It took until now to reach you.”

This is what she had wanted, but now that it was here, the enormity of what he’d done scared her. She looked at him. “What will happen now?”

“There will be . . . anger,” he said, “anger on both sides. Kit . . . My mother will . . .” He looked away.

Dougless could see how torn he was between duty and love. But now she wouldn’t be here to help him. She squeezed his hand. “You will not marry her even after I’m gone?”

He turned blazing eyes toward her. “You would leave me now?”

Tears came again to her eyes as she flung herself against him. “I would
never
leave you if I had a choice, but I don’t. Not now. Now there is no choice. I will go soon, I know it. I can feel it.”

He kissed her, then smoothed her hair back. “How much time?” he whispered.

“Dawn. No more. Nicholas, I—”

He silenced her with a kiss. “I would rather hours with you than a lifetime with another. Now, no more talk. Come, we will love away these hours.”

He stood up, then pulled her up beside him and led her into the still-running fountain, where he began to lather her with the last of her soft soap. “You left this behind,” he said, smiling at her.

Forget that this is the end, Dougless thought. Forget it. Time
must
stand still for this one night. “How did you kn-know I showered here?” she asked, her voice stumbling.