Louise Allen - Regency Pleasures and Sins Part 1

Nicholas took a quick stride. ‘Here, let me take your pelisse. Come and sit down at the table. You have brought still more supplies, I see. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for the ones earlier; I hope I present a slightly less unnerving spectacle than I did before.’ He felt he was talking too much, but, until she seemed willing to speak, he could not be silent.

She sat obediently and finally managed a small smile. ‘Yes. I have brought food and drink and clean bed linen.’ She reached out a hand and touched gently the raw marks on his wrists where the shackles had rubbed. ‘And bandages with some of my own salve. Those must chafe horribly where your cuffs touch. If you take off your coat and roll up your sleeves, I will bandage them now.’

His immediate reaction was to refuse. She should not be sitting in a cell, tending to a felon’s wounds. But she had to spend the night here, come what may, and it seemed to be helping her to have something practical to do. He stood up and did as she asked before sitting again and holding out his arms for her attention.

‘Oh …’ she bit her lip at the sight of the sores, but to his surprise it was compassion, not revulsion in her tone ‘… how can they justify such heavy, tight irons? It is cruel.’ She unscrewed the lid of a jar of greasy green ointment and began to smear it on his wrists with light fingertips. The little shock of sensation he had felt when he took her hand in his in the chapel ran through him again. ‘I am sorry, did that hurt?’ He had not realised he had moved. ‘It is mainly wood sage, chickweed and betony, but I have put in thyme as well.’

Her voice seemed stronger discussing the herbs. ‘What does the thyme do? I thought that was a pot herb.’

‘It is, but I like to put it in most things for the scent. It is supposed to be helpful for courage and against nightmares.’

‘That will be useful.’

To his surprise she raised her eyes and looked directly into his. ‘I do not think you are in want of courage, Mr Lydgate. Do you suffer nightmares? It would not be surprising in this place.’ Her eyes dropped again to the bandage she was carefully wrapping around his right wrist.

‘Waking ones only,’ he rejoined, trying to keep his tone light. ‘Having the luxury of sleep in which to have a proper nightmare is rare here.’ Her fingers quivered again as she tied the bandage off and took up his other wrist. He wondered if she could feel his pulse hammering. ‘Will you not call me Nicholas—or Nick? That is what my friends call me.’

‘And where are these friends, Nick?’ Again those intense brown eyes met his.

‘In France.’

‘I see.’ She finished with the bandages and began to tidy away her ointment.

‘And what do your friends call you, Katherine?’

That produced another upward look and a flashing smile that showed even white teeth before she was serious again. ‘Katherine. My brother calls me Katy, but I dislike that.’

Nick reached out his hand and tipped her face up. ‘I shall call you Kat. Has anyone told you that you look like one, with your heart-shaped face and those big eyes?’

‘No.’ He could see from the emotions that flitted rapidly across her face that she was not sure she was flattered, then she decided she was. ‘Very well, you may call me Kat.’

He let his fingers just pinch her chin before releasing her. ‘Husband’s privilege, Kat.’ He could have kicked himself. Instantly the shutters came down and her hands tensed. How to retrieve it? ‘Are you hungry, Kat? I confess I am. Why do you not set out the food you have brought and I will tidy away the other things?’

He had been about to say ‘make the bed', but reference to that would hardly be tactful at the moment.

‘Very well.’ She stood up with her back, fortunately, to the bed and began to open the hamper. Nick threw back the lid of the other basket and pulled out sheets redolent of lavender and pillowcases edged with fine lace. For a moment he stood there, letting the feminine softness and sweetness sweep over him, then he stripped off the harsh blankets and made up the bed.

When he turned back the table was laid and she was watching him, a touch of colour staining her cheeks. But she had stopped trembling. Something within him knotted and he felt his loins tighten. Damn it, have some self-control, he snarled inwardly. She was frightened and adrift, cast there by her selfish brat of a brother; the last thing she needed was to be aware of how much she aroused him.

‘This looks good.’ He held a chair for her, then sat, reaching for the bottle of claret and the corkscrew. ‘Why, you have even brought glasses.’

‘I confess I did not look forward to whatever the prison authorities deem suitable in place of china and crystal.’ Katherine smiled at him. ‘And I asked Jenny to slice the meat; I did not think I would be allowed in here with a carving knife.’ She began to heap meat on his plate—beef, ham and chicken—then spread butter on rolls and passed him two. ‘Go on, eat, and do not even think about the food you have been eating the past days.’

The taste of good, simple food was like an explosion in his mouth. Nick tried not to wolf it down, not to gulp the wine Katherine kept pouring into his glass, but when he finally put down his knife and fork and reluctantly shook his head at her offer of another chicken leg, he feared he had exhibited little grace. She appeared unconcerned, however, sitting toying with a slice of chicken and some bread and butter. He caught her eye as she took a drink of wine and she smiled again. ‘Dutch courage,’ she admitted. ‘Would you like some cheese, or Jenny’s famous plum cake? Both together are good.’

Nick held out his plate wordlessly. After this meal, in this company, he felt if he died in his sleep tonight he would be content. ‘Do you need it?’

Her nose wrinkled in puzzlement. It was a new expression to add to those he was beginning to learn, and emphasised the cat-look even more. ‘Dutch courage,’ he explained.

‘Oh. Yes.’

‘I should not wonder after your first sight of me. It frightened me when I saw myself in a mirror. Am I so frightening now?’ Another woman would have prattled, or retreated into silence or rushed to reassure him. Katherine put her head on one side and contemplated him seriously.

‘How frightening do you think it is for a virgin to find herself alone in a bedroom with a husband she has known for perhaps two hours in all?’ She gestured to show it was a rhetorical question. ‘No, I was not frightened of you then and I am not frightened of you, as a person, now. You made me feel … safe.’

This was not the time to preen himself because she had paid him a compliment. ‘But you are afraid of me as a man? I will not hurt you, I promise you.’

Her answer was a little shake of the head and a rueful smile. ‘Of course. It is just foolish shyness. Now, what more would you like to eat? There is another bottle of wine.’

They finished their meal and packed the hamper together, leaving the new bottle of wine to sip. Nicholas saw Katherine’s eyes keep straying to the bed, then jerking back. He was having increasing difficulty keeping his mind off it himself.

‘Tell me about yourself,’ he asked abruptly. ‘Where are your relatives that you find yourself in this coil?’

‘I have none. None except my brother.’ Her fingers were idly running up and down the stem of the wine glass in an unconsciously erotic glide. Nick crossed his legs and forced himself to concentrate. ‘Our parents died some years ago. We were not well off, but we had enough with careful management.

‘Unfortunately, Philip has a weakness for both drink and gambling and the money just leaks away. We had to let all the servants go but John and Jenny; they only stay with us out of loyalty. Then last year, while I was away, Philip sold the house and the furniture without telling me. I only found out the other day, at the same time that he revealed that he had tricked me into signing the papers for a loan of five thousand pounds.’