Margo Maguire - The Bride Of Windermere

Even so resolved, Wolfram couldn’t deny that he’d been strongly affected by the woman at the lake. She was every dream he had ever suppressed, every yearning he had ever denied. But Wolf well knew the pain of loving and losing, and he vowed never to fall into that trap again. He’d lost his brother and his father to fate. And while those losses and Wolf’s drive for justice gave him a cold, reserved selfpossession, it was his mother’s apathy that had tormented his soul over the years.

Wolf had survived the fatal attack, but Margrethe Colston hadn’t spoken to him in twenty years. She hadn’t even acknowledged his existence. It didn’t matter that she was beyond response, incapable of speaking to anyone—it was the fact that Wolf’s survival hadn’t given her even a glimmer of hope. Wolf’s life had meant nothing to her.

“Gerhart.”

Though she dozed comfortably as they rode, Kit heard a rough voice as one of the soldiers rode abreast of them. She saw no reason to make them aware that she was awake, which she barely was, anyway. She needed to think about getting away and returning to wait for Rupert somewhere near Somerton. Kit tried to keep track of their progress so she’d be able to find her direction when the time came. However, it was difficult to pay attention because she was so drowsy, her head ached and her eye socket throbbed abominably.

“It will be dark soon,” the man said, speaking to the man she knew as “Wolf.” Kit wondered why the soldier called him “Gerhart.” “The old woman is nearly falling off her mount.” His words were strangely accented, though not unpleasant to Kit’s ear. He was a tall man, quite powerful in the saddle, and he was as blond as Wolf was dark.

Kit repressed the urge to turn and see how Bridget fared. Wolf didn’t respond to the soldier immediately, and Kit wondered if he was trying to decide whether or not to let her old nurse fall by the wayside.

“We’ll stop soon,” Wolf finally said. “Send two men ahead to scout a likely campsite.”

Kit felt a long sigh escape the man. He must be in a terrible hurry to get to London to be so irritated by this slight delay. Didn’t knights need to rest, too? Weren’t they hungry as well? She felt his arms tighten securely around her. In contradiction to her thoughts, Wolf didn’t seem weary at all. She thought he must have the stamina of a workhorse. Kit was weary, though, and while her spirit was tenacious, she knew she couldn’t keep up with this Wolf. At least not now.

It seemed so safe and secure in his arms that Kit snuggled back into him. Maybe later she would think about escaping to get back where Rupert could find her. She dozed off again until some time later when Wolf spoke.

“There was a woman last night at Somerton.”

At first, Kit was astonished, thinking he’d spoken to her. But before she could reply, she realized that the man who had addressed Wolf before was riding next to them again.

“Ja?” the man replied. Kit wanted to get a better look at him. She continued to feign sleep instead.

“After we get the girl to London and I settle with Philip, I’m going back to find her.”

“Who is the woman?”

“I don’t know. But she was...interesting. Intriguing.” Wolf seemed at a loss for words.

The man laughed. “I’ve never seen you quite so...intrigued, Cousin.” He waited for Wolf to explain but got no response. “Ladies have fallen at your feet for years yet you—”

“Not this time,” Wolf interrupted. “It was strange. She was... different.” Kit could hear puzzlement in his voice. She experienced an odd sense of satisfaction as a result of her effect on him. She couldn’t think of any man, other than Rupert, who had ever found her interesting, much less intriguing. On the other hand, the thought of Wolf coming back to Somerton for her was alarming. He was not a gentle or charming man like her Rupert.

“What was her name?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

“That’s promising.” Through her lashes, Kit saw the man’s eyebrow go up. “I’ll assume it wasn’t the charming and seductive Lady Edith.”

“Hmph.” Kit felt the sound he emitted, more than heard it.

“It’s likely to be months before we finish our business, Gerhart,” the man said with amusement. “Do you suppose she’ll be waiting for you?”

“What difference whether she waits or not? She’ll be mine,” replied Wolf with utmost confidence, and Kit’s sense of satisfaction vanished. How dare he assume she would fall at his feet when he arrived?

She gritted her teeth to master her irritation and refrained from speaking out. The conceit of the man was unsurpassed. Why, the man thought that because he’d kissed her once, he could begin to think of owning her. He didn’t even know her! And he wasn’t going to know her, either, she promised herself.

“And you say you don’t know who she is?”

“Nay, Nicholas, she would give me no name.”

“Mayhap if you described the woman, your little Lady Kathryn could name her.”

“Mayhap.”

His Lady Kathryn! How many women was this wolf allowed? Kit reined in an urge to slam her elbow into the man’s gut. But she knew he wore an iron hauberk, and she would only bruise herself.

“I think it best you keep your thoughts on Windermere and not on a prospective wife. Besides, there is Lady Annegret. When you wed her—”

“Wife?” Wolf laughed coldly. “I made no mention of a wife.”

Nicholas chuckled, and Kit was infuriated. When he found out she was the woman at the lake, he’d... Kit resolved never to give him half a bloody chance to discover who she was..

“Ah, Lady Kathryn awakens,” Nicholas announced as Kit moved restlessly. She was so angry, she was unable to pretend to sleep any longer. “Did you rest well, my lady?”

“Tolerably.”

“Your voice—it is difficult to tell much about you under that layer of dirt and those rags you wear—but your voice seems not to be that of a child. We thought we’d been sent to collect a child.” Nicholas looked at her more closely, trying to discern her features beyond the filth and bruises.

“You are correct. I am not a child.” She couldn’t mask an irritable tone as she gazed at the handsome warrior who rode alongside.

“And you expect us to believe you are fully grown?” Wolf asked in laughing disbelief.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” Kit shot back angrily. “Except an unwanted trip to London.”

“Ach, so the journey riles you?” Nicholas laughed.

“How is Bridget? She must be near to collapsing. She is unused to riding.”

“The old woman is weary,” Nicholas replied. “We’ll stop shortly for the night.”

“How do you intend to keep us safe the night through? It is said to be dangerous traveling these roads—”

“Please, my lady,” Wolfs tone mocked her, “nine of my men are here and would be loath to hear you malign their talents so.”

“Nine! You have only nine?”

“Our number will be sufficient. Now cease. Enough of this prattle.”

Kit bristled with the resentment of having this crass brute in charge of her person. He had no right to order her about. And she didn’t care much for the way he scowled at her, either.

A short time later, when they came over a grassy hill, they spotted the two men who had been sent ahead to seek a sheltered spot to camp for the night. They had already scouted out a likely area and a small fire was crackling merrily in the clearing.

It was with great relief that Kit dismounted and went to help Bridget. The old woman was bone weary and though she was not usually particularly quiet about her aches and pains, she was more circumspect than usual tonight. The two women wandered off to the trees to take care of their personal needs and while there, found a stream with cool, fresh water. They stopped to drink their fill.