Marek (The Knights of Stonebridge Book 1) (6 page)

Kitty knew she should resist. She couldn’t breathe. The frantic, almost desperate movement of his mouth on hers seared her. She kissed him back with all the pent up passion and loneliness she’d felt in recent months.

God! He was a good kisser. His lips were full and seemed to devour her. She opened her mouth wider, taking his tongue inside her. Her hands grasped his shoulders. Oh, but she could get used to this.

And her daughter would perish.

CHAPTER FOUR

“Okay, okay, okay,” Kitty said. Sucking in short gasps of air, she pushed away from him and dragged herself over the side of the tub, not an easy feat given the weight of her soaked gown.

She stood next to him, water pooling in the rushes at her feet.
You can do it. Just say no.
The drum of her heartbeat pounded in her ears. He glared up at her with a combination of shock and hatred that sent her defenses soaring. She flipped wet tendrils of her damp hair from her cheeks and glanced away. “I’m going to change.”

Lugging the heavy skirt off the floor, she went to her own room. She pulled another shift from the chest, untied it and shook out the wrinkles. As she struggled to shed the soaked gown, she thought several times of trying to talk to him about what she believed had happened to her. Besides a six-year-old child, he was her only ally. She needed him for more than mere protection.

Would he think she was crazy? Or worse, a witch?

Kitty knew little if anything of this time period. She was an accountant, had never studied more history than was necessary. Even that had been mostly American history. America did not even exit at this time. And that Renaissance Fair was just a modern day reenactment. When
was
the Renaissance, anyway? Was it this early? Surely the fair was as authentic as they could make it, but probably way off the mark.

One thing she did know. This was a dangerous time. Accusations of witchcraft were not taken lightly. She needed to keep Marek on her side.

Dressed only in the shift, she lay back on her bed, so much more luxurious than his. Had he shared this bed with his wife? She caught herself imagining Marek tumbling about, naked, with another woman...no. She would not think about it.

Lord, but she was tired. Like jet lag...

***

She did not wake until the next morning. Marek had gone, having been called to root out a band of thieves. Sarah told her he had taken an entourage. They could be gone for days. Damn! She should have talked to him last night.

She sat at one of the long tables in the hall nibbling a hard apple and cheese from a trencher of stale bread. Kitty was not used to drinking so early in the morning, but there was only ale to wash down her meal. Weakened as it was, Kitty did not get her usual alcohol-induced headache.

Her breakfast finished, Kitty moved away from the table and wandered around the great hall.

Sarah and another woman gathered the rushes on the floor. Most of the straw had been trampled to dust. Even with the tall ceiling the smell of earth and horse manure, having been dragged in from outside by so many feet, had begun to permeate the room.

In one corner, a cleric sat on a stool surrounded by William and three more young boys. Using chalk and one of the slates she’d seen earlier, he taught them the alphabet. Where were the little girls? Why wasn’t Bria sitting there learning to read?

No other people milled about. Wasn’t this room supposed to be the center of activity? Except for these few people, Kitty was alone. Even Bria had not made an appearance.

Until Marek’s return, Kitty vowed to discover the means to time travel. But where to start? She couldn’t just ask people. There was no internet, no library, not even a college professor to talk to like Christopher Reeve in that movie he made with Jane Seymour. What was it called?
Somewhere in Time?
How had
he
traveled? Kitty thought she remembered that he dressed up in clothes from the time he wanted to travel to, then simply
willed
himself to be there.

Kitty had nothing from her time period. Even her clothes were gone, destroyed in the fire. She tried to remember other movies she had seen.
Back to the Future, Kate and Leopold, Peggy Sue Got Married, Timeline.

She shook her head. Those stories were all made up. This was
real
. She needed to find out how she had gotten
here
, then perhaps she could find her way back.

At one end of the hall a long table sat on what appeared to be a stage.
That must be where his lordship sits,
she thought.
Lord of the keep
. He certainly fit that title. She climbed the single step to see what was up there. At least everyone who sat up here had their own chair. No benches as the tables below. Spread out on the table were a few wooden spoons, pewter platters and goblets. Even by medieval standards, Marek Stone didn’t seem to be very well off.

In the center of the table was a wooden model of a castle. She recognized the layout of
this
castle. There was just this one building and the stone wall surrounding it. Well, at least on the model the wall was stone. Kitty knew from her exploration with Bria that parts of it were wood. He must be replacing it.

At one end was the gate through which they had entered. It appeared to be the only way in or out. The gate was flanked on each side by a tall tower she did not remember seeing.

“Milady.”

Kitty jumped. Sarah stood below her amid the rushes. “Yes?” Kitty asked.

“There be a woman from the village outside. She wants to see you.”

Kitty swallowed. A glance around the cavernous room yielded no familiar faces. She looked down at Sarah. “Can you show her in?”

“Nay, mistress. She must remain outside.”

Sarah scampered away without saying more, leaving Kitty to make her own way to where the woman waited.

A few turns down the stairs, and Kitty stepped out onto the landing. The sunshine from the previous day had gone. Once again, drizzle fell from the sky.

At the bottom of the steps stood a filthy woman. Her clothes hung about her in rags. On a pull cart next to her lay a boy. He looked pale, not surprising given the lack of sunshine.

At Kitty’s appearance, the woman stood taller, pulled her shoulders back. “My son be poxed,” the woman said.

Kitty stopped halfway down the steps and frowned at the woman. “He’s what?”

“Poxed, milady. Have ye not wondered that he ain’t been to visit ya these past weeks?”

What could she be prattling on about? “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

The woman stared at her as if she, Kitty, spoke a foreign language. “Do ye deny him?”

A throb pounded behind her right eye. She shook her head. “Deny him what?”

“’e been warmin’ yer bed since winter. ‘e be but a boy, knows no other woman, but you, ‘e does. Now ‘e be poxed an’ you be the only one what’s give it to ‘im.”

Kitty’s jaw dropped. She peered down at him. “He can’t be more than fourteen or fifteen,” she said, shocked. Had Marek’s wife really slept with this boy?

“The boy seen fifteen summers, ‘e has. ‘Tis doubtful ‘e sees another. How’m I to survive wi’ no man to look after me? Me husband be dead these past four years, now ye be takin’ my boy.”

Kitty did not know what to say. Was this boy really all the woman had? If she had a fifteen-year-old son, she couldn’t be that old, yet she looked like she was seventy. She said the first thing that came to mind.

“Perhaps he can be saved.” Surely Marek had a doctor of some sort. Was there a cure for the – pox? What
was
the pox, anyway?

The woman looked at her through slanted eyes. “I be leavin’ ‘im to ye, then.” She turned abruptly and walked away.

“Wait!” The woman ignored her, kept walking. Kitty raced down the steps. The woman was through the gate quickly for one so frail.

She looked down at the boy, disgust roiling in her stomach. That woman had had sex with this child, and now he would most likely die from it. Marek’s wife had been no better than Jake. She pressed the backs of her fingers against his cheek. He burned with fever.

What was she to do with him? She couldn’t take him inside, but neither could she leave him exposed out here in the open. She lifted the long handles of the cart and pulled with as much strength as she could muster. The cart barely budged. She was going to need help. She looked around the courtyard. Some of the men working to demolish the old wooden keep had stopped to watch as Kitty conversed with the woman. By now they had returned to their task.

“Excuse me,” she called. She could actually see some of them rolling their eyes as they turned in response to her call. “Can I get some help over here?”

One of the men looked at two of his workers and jerked his head in her direction. The two men dropped the wood planks they were hauling and crossed the bailey to where Kitty stood with the cart.

They stood there, hands clasped before them, awaiting her instructions. “I need him moved. Somewhere no one else will be exposed to him.”

One of the men scratched his head. “There be a empty lean-to on the back wall. “Twas bein’ used for the pig ‘til we slaughtered it.”

“Fine.”

It only took one of the men to pull the cart. Had that old woman dragged it here from the village by herself? When they reached the lean-to, Kitty covered her mouth and nose. It smelled like the pig was still in there.

“Fetch some clean straw.” The man who had pulled the cart sent the other back the way they’d come. Within minutes he returned, his arms full of straw. In his absence, the first man had shoveled out the left over waste from the pig, though it did nothing to relieve the stench. When they had transferred the boy to the clean straw, they turned back to her.

“Can you send someone with a bucket of water and some clean rags?”

With a nod the two men left her. She stood alone looking down at the doomed boy. How could this have happened? What kind of woman would seduce a boy? He was so young, his innocence stolen along with his very life.

Sarah arrived with the bucket and rags.

Kitty took them from her and moved next to the boy. “Is there anything to be done about the smell in here?”

Sarah looked around. “I s’pose we could scatter more straw around to soak up the muck. But ‘twill do little for the smell, milady.”

Kitty squatted down and began to wipe his face with the wet cloth. “What a horrible place to die.” She pulled his shirt open, revealed large festered sores.

Sarah sucked in a sharp breath behind her. “’e be a goner fer sure, mum.”

Kitty felt tears sting her eyes. “It’s not right.” No wonder Marek hated his wife. He hated her so much, he wanted her dead.

Had he hated her enough to kill her?

***

“Harboring your lovers inside the castle walls, now?”

Kitty started at the voice behind her, knocking over the bucket and nearly landing on her backside in the muck. She recognized Jake’s voice immediately. Gaining her footing, she turned on Father Jacob. His resemblance to her husband was remarkable. And frightening.

“Leave,” he barked to Sarah.

When they were alone, he moved closer. Kitty resisted the urge to take a step back. He reached out and stroked the side of her breast with his knuckles.

Kitty twisted out of his reach with a gasp.

Father Jacob smiled. “What? Playing the innocent now?” He looked around. “We are alone, Katherine.”

Her shock at the priest’s audacity was momentarily stunned at his mention of her name. Katherine? Was that also her name
now
? Kitty glared at him. Instinct took over as years of martial arts training kicked her brain into self-defense mode. She mentally identified his soft targets, ready to fight him if necessary, balling her hands into fists and preparing to defend herself.

“Wo ho,” he laughed. “What is this game you play? We have a bargain, you and I.”

“Bargain?”

He lifted one brow. “The fool, as well?” Clasping his hands behind him, he began to pace before her.

Kitty looked around, searching for some means of assistance. But no one lurked about. Were the workers too far away to hear her if she screamed? Surely this priest would not harm the lord’s wife.

“Very well,” he said. “I shall play your game. As long as you spread your legs for me, I will not expose you for the witch you are.”

Kitty nearly sputtered at his words. “You are a priest.”

“And tired I am of the filthy whores in yon village.” He nodded towards the gate at the far end of the bailey. His demeanor softened, he stopped pacing and moved close to her again. He leaned his face next to hers, burying his face in her hair, and drew in a deep breath. “Your scent is most pleasing, even here amongst the pig dung.”

Kitty recoiled.
His
scent was of soured beer. Most
unpleasant
. She stepped away from him. “What of this bargain? Yesterday you appeared on the doorstep with a mob.”

Father Jacob brushed away her accusation. “I knew your fool husband would not let them take you. Despise you though he may, he will not let harm come to any in his precious family.”

Kitty’s heart melted a little at those words.

He studied her. “Your countenance has changed, Katherine. Ever have I seen to your needs, as you have to mine. Come behind the shed.” He leered at her. "Let me make you squeal with delight as I
have
done.”