Dark Destroyer (17 page)

“Please,” she begged, in tears. “I want to go home. I want to go back to St. Milburga’s!”

Gates put his arms around her, taking her in the direction of the keep. “Come along,” he said, forgoing the usually polite protocol between them. The woman was frightened, seeking comfort, and he couldn’t help himself from giving it. “Mayhap I should not have taken you into the hall. It can sometimes be difficult around soldiers who do not know limitations when it comes to women.”

Kathalin gasped, trying to pull away from him. “Do not know
limitations
?” she repeated, horrified. “You would knowingly bring me to such a place? Is that what happens here at Hyssington? Men have no restraint?”

He shook his head, retaining his grip on her. “I did not mean it that way,” he said calmly. “’Tis simply that Hyssington is a fortress without women for the most part. There are serving wenches, and your mother, and that is all. Men become accustomed to men for companionship and when they see a woman, it tests their control. I am very sorry I left you alone. I should not have, but I truly did not think someone would take the opportunity to abscond with you.”

Kathalin wouldn’t let him move her towards the keep; she was still in his grip, that was true, but she was trying to pull away from him, digging her heels in because she didn’t want to go with him. The expression on her face was one of great distress.

“Then this is a terrible place,” she hissed at him. “How could you take me out of the safety of St. Milburga’s and bring me to a place where men would think I am a whore?”

Gates grabbed her by the other arm, now holding her with both hands, and forced her to stop pulling away from him. His gaze was intense.

“Lady,” he said quietly, “you must calm yourself. I realize you were raised in a place where men did not live, but understand that what happened just now is not unique. Hyssington Castle is not unique. There are men all over England, in any given castle or tavern or establishment, who might have done the same thing to you. The soldier who grabbed you has been properly punished and the reasons behind his punishment will serve to show every man here that you are not to be trifled with. It was an unfortunate occurrence but one that will have a greater end. Men will be too fearful of the punishment, and of my wrath in particular, should they so much as look at you. Do you understand what I am telling you? Kathalin, I would never have knowingly placed you in danger. I hope you would have more faith in me than that.”

Kathalin.
He called her by her name, without the courtesy title of “lady” before it, and Kathalin was quite sure she had never heard her name sound so sweet. In fact, it was enough to bring her some pause in her distress and she looked up at him, seeing something of warmth and hope in his features.
Rescuer... great protector…
was it possible he would be all of these things to her in her time of need? Was it possible that this man who had carried her out of St. Milburga’s under duress would turn out to be someone she could always depend on?

Someone she could love?

Love!

The word struck a chord in Kathalin so strongly that she gasped as it reverberated through her body. Dear God, she could not love him!
Would
not love him! He was the only man she had ever known so it would have been natural to feel some kind of attachment towards him… wouldn’t it? He had been kind and gentle at times, firm when she needed it, and humorous when the situation called for it.

What wasn’t there to love about him?”

Frightened by her thoughts, exhausted from the trip, and upset by being grabbed, the tears came and Kathalin lowered her head, struggling not to weep. Gates, still holding on to both of her arms, loosened his grip.

“I am sorry this happened,” he said softly. “Please let me take you to a chamber where you can rest and where you will feel safe. Will you allow me to do that for you?”

“I want to go home,” she wept softly.

He rubbed her arms gently, trying not to appear too comforting or too solicitous. It was dangerous for him, on many levels, and that voice inside his head was beginning to scream at him as he bordered on impropriety.

Don’t touch her, you fool!
It shouted.
Don’t let her get under your skin!

“I know,” he said softly. “But you cannot go home right now. Will you please let me take you to your chamber so you may rest?”

Kathalin simply nodded and he pulled her along, holding her elbow tightly as he guided her into towards keep. They were nearly to the door when a voice came from behind.

“Gates? Where are you going?”

Gates knew the voice before he even turned around. With Kathalin still in his grip, he turned to see Jasper a few feet behind him, his bearded face full of curiosity and confusion. Before Gates could answer, Jasper’s gaze moved to Kathalin, who was wiping tears from her eyes, and his entire expression changed.

“Kathalin?” he murmured incredulously, inspecting her hooded features with the same shock Gates and Alexander had shown upon meeting the woman. Jasper, too, could hardly believe what he was seeing. “Kathalin, is that truly you?”

Gates spoke before Kathalin could. “We looked for you in the hall, my lord,” he said. “But it is full of men and Lady Kathalin has just suffered a distressing experience, so it may be best to allow her to rest first before engaging in any meaningful conversation. May I have permission to take her to her chamber, then?”

Jasper couldn’t take his eyes off his daughter. Ignoring Gates’ question, he moved towards his daughter, reaching out a hand that came near her head. Kathalin visibly flinched, her eyes big at her father, but all Jasper did was peel back the hood of the cloak to get a good look at her. When he did, he sighed.

“God’s Bones,” he said softly, with awe in his voice. “You look just like your mother did as a young woman.”

Kathalin gazed back at her father, reacquainting herself with the man. Truthfully, she didn’t have much memory of him. She had been so young when she had been sent away that all she really remembered of him was dark hair and a booming voice. Essentially, she was looking at a stranger.

“Greetings, my lord,” she said, unsure what more to say.

But Jasper shook his head at her, grasping her by the shoulders and pulling her away from Gates. “My lord, is it?” he said, looking her over in detail. “I am your father. You will kiss me.”

Before Kathalin could protest, Jasper kissed her loudly on both cheeks, insisting she do the same to him. She did, timidly, and he laughed. “It will become easier, with time,” he told her, completely oblivious to her hesitant behavior. “God’s Bones, I cannot get over how beautiful you have become. Isn’t she, Gates?”

Gates was looking at Kathalin with concern, knowing Jasper’s booming voice and loud manner was probably not having a good effect on her. “She is indeed, my lord,” he said quietly.

Jasper simply grinned. “It is good to have you home, Daughter,” he said. “Your mother and I have a grand event planned to celebrate your return. Many houses will be coming to Hyssington to meet you and that means many young men as well. I am sure you will be quite excited by that. All young women love parties, do they not?”

Gates was somewhat chagrinned by what he was hearing. More than that, he was downright opposed to it. A celebration with young men? Men to gaze upon Jasper de Lara’s grown daughter? Damnation, he didn’t like that idea one bit but in the same breath, he knew that such things were beyond his control. What Jasper did wasn’t up to him. He was sworn to the man and therefore sworn to obey any whim or command, including an idiotic party with young men that Kathalin was clearly uncomfortable around. As Gates stood there and held his tongue, Kathalin seemed to have found hers.

“It is kind of you to arrange a celebration, Father,” she said, “but I do not require nor need one. I have come home because you summoned me and I would like to know why I am here. If you would be kind enough to tell me, I would be grateful.”

Jasper, undeterred by her stiff and formal manner with him, waved her off. “There will be plenty of time to discuss such things,” he said, grasping her by the hand and pulling her towards the hall. “Come, Daughter. Allow me to introduce you to Hyssington. Everyone will want to meet you.”

As Jasper pulled, Kathalin turned pleading eyes to Gates, who intervened on her behalf. He found that he had to. He could no longer remain silent.

“My lord,” he said, putting himself in front of Jasper so the man couldn’t move forward. He pointed to Kathalin. “Look at her; she has had an exhausting journey. She endured an attack at St. Milburga’s and snowstorms before arriving here, so it would be my strong recommendation that you allow the woman to rest this night. There will be plenty of time to introduce her to Hyssington in the days to come. At least for tonight, have pity on what she has endured to get here. It has been a very long and trying day.”

Jasper, now in doubt of his plans for his daughter, looked at Kathalin to see that she did, indeed, appear weary. She seemed pale and her eyes were red-rimmed. Disappointed he would not have the chance to sup with her, he sighed greatly. Not normally a selfless man, it was difficult for him to think of another’s needs before his own, but he managed it.

“Very well,” he said reluctantly. “Her mother has ordered the big chamber on the second floor prepared for her use. Take her there and make sure she has all that she needs, Gates, and when you are finished, I will see you in the hall. I want to hear what happened on this journey to St. Milburga’s that has you both so weary that you cannot stand to sup with me.”

Gates didn’t want to get into a verbal confrontation with a man who was clearly being rather petulant about the situation. Therefore, he simply nodded and took Kathalin away from Jasper, quickly leading her towards the box-shaped keep. The structure had a big iron grate as an entry door, a grate that was always kept locked, so he called to the majordomo inside, the Tender of the Keep, who happened to be a woman. The old servant appeared from her room near the entry door and unlocked it.

The sound of the iron grate locking behind them made it sound as if they were in a prison. Hollow sounds of iron reverberated off the stone walls. That uneasiness was evident in Kathalin’s expression as Gates took her up the narrow spiral stairs to the floor above where there was one large chamber and two smaller chambers. Servants slept in the smaller chambers but the larger one was used for guests, and it was into this spacious bower that Gates took her.

The chamber door was a very heavy oak panel, reinforced with iron, and made creaking sounds as it was opened. Kathalin stepped into the chamber and was immediately hit by the smell of fresh rushes, no doubt cut from the tree that very day. But as the smell filled her nostrils, she was caught off-guard by what she saw; an enormous bed was in the center of the chamber, facing the hearth, and there were furs and pillows and resplendent luxury all around it on a colossal scale.

Shocked, Kathalin looked further into the room. There was a lounge of some kind beneath a lancet window, something cushioned and long and without arms on it, and there was also a separate area with a small, painted table and two matching chairs, all made from pale wood, that was evidently an eating or refreshment area of some kind. A long, slender table nearby held a precious glass carafe half-filled with deep red wine and two small glasses. It was clear that someone had gone through a great deal of trouble to make this room very luxurious and comfortable.

Gates didn’t seem to notice any of the decadence as Kathalin stood there and gaped. He moved into the chamber as if it all meant absolutely nothing to him, which it didn’t, and went to the hearth, pulling forth peat and wood in order to begin a fire. Kathalin managed to close her mouth and wander into the chamber after him. Her initial surprise was turning to awe at the finery she was witnessing. From the austere halls of St. Milburga’s to the wealth of the de Lara’s, it was as if she had opened the door and stepped foot into heaven.

The first example of wealth was the floor - since stepping into the room, she hadn’t walked on the floor once – there were cow’s hides and sheep’s skins covering most of it. The next example was the bed - she was almost afraid to touch it. It had a silk coverlet that was finely embroidered with hummingbirds and flowers, and there were several pillows on the bed that had also been exquisitely embroidered. In fact, the entire bed was the most beautiful thing Kathalin had ever seen and she inspected it with great care.

“I have never, in all of my life, seen such a bed,” she said, timidly putting her hand on it to feel the softness. “It looks as if angels sleep here.”

Down on one knee in front of the hearth, Gates had the peat and wood neatly stacked and was in the process of striking the flint. In spite of the fact that he had declared to Kathalin back at the farmer’s hut that he did not start fires, he did indeed start them and he could do it very well.

“Your mother is responsible for the finery,” he said. “She sews things of such beauty, you cannot even imagine.”

Kathalin looked at him. “Truly?” she said, wonder in her voice. “I can sew very well but I never learned to embroider such as this. Mother Benedicta considered it a foolish waste of time.”

“Why?”

“Because embroidery serves no purpose other than to flatter vain women.”

The peat was beginning to catch fire and Gates blew on it to spark it up. “It seems to me that Mother Benedicta had very strong views of the world and those in it,” he said. “She convinced you that anything other than brown woolen clothing was vain and sinful, yet you are wearing fine clothing this night and I do not think it is sinful in the least.”