The Bride Of Windermere

“Sir Gerhart is in the stables,” the woman informed her curtly. Her manner clearly indicated that if it had been her place, she would have advised the powerful knight to leave the ragged girl somewhere.

Kit paid no attention to the slight. She just wanted to talk to Wolf as soon as possible.

Wolf pulled Janus’ cinch tight and dropped the stirrup back over his steed’s side. When he looked up, he saw Lady Kathryn approaching. At least he thought it must be Kathryn, though he couldn’t be sure for her face was clean.

Except for an ugly bruise around her eye and a scab in the middle of her lower lip, it was an amazing face. Not a dainty or beautiful face by any means, but a fascinating face. A strong and willful face. Framed by rich, thick lashes, her bold green eyes, one blackened and more than a bit bloodshot, met his gaze with a directness that was unusual in a woman. Pale, shapely eyebrows arched gracefully over them. High cheekbones gave way to a well-formed nose and full lips. The slightest hint of a cleft dented her chin. When he realized he was staring, he turned back to Janus and let his breath out slowly. Where in hell was the ragged little urchin he’d left asleep at the inn?

Why couldn’t she have been the child he had expected to find, or more like the ladies he’d known at court? Either one would have been easier to deal with than this headstrong, disturbing girl they’d found at Somerton. She was too impulsive and unpredictable by half. He was never sure what to expect from her, and now with her face washed—

“Gerhart.” Her commanding voice was direct, as well as her gaze.

She was disturbing, all right, and annoying.

He wondered where the meek girl was who’d been beaten by her stepfather only two days before. He walked around Janus and picked up each of his hoofs to examine them in turn, trying to ignore her presence.

“We cannot go on today.” Her speech was direct and imperious, as usual.

“Oh?” He controlled his reaction, refusing to be riled by her. God knew she managed to have some effect on him every time she spoke. He had resolved to be immune to her as they approached Windermere Castle. He wouldn’t let her aggravate him, nor was he going to be taken in by any feminine wiles she may possess, scant though they may be.

“Bridget is ill. She cannot travel.”

“We leave in half an hour.” His voice was firm. “Several of my men have ridden on ahead. If you have not yet broken your fast, then I suggest you do so now, because you will not have another opportunity.”

The dolt obviously hadn’t heard her! “But Bridget is sick! She cannot go on in the rain!”

“She can and she will,” Wolf replied with controlled calm. “She will ride with Nicholas, as she did yesterday. The alternative is that she remain here at the Crooked Ax.”

“You do not understand! I am responsible for her. I—”

“You? I thought it was the reverse. I thought your nurse came along to see to you.”

“Of course not! Bridget hasn’t been able to do anything for me these last few years other than patch up my—”

Wolf’s fierce look stopped her.

“—well, that is to say, Bridget is getting old now and cannot possibly work like she used to. She has been with me since I was a baby and as my mother’s distant cou—”

Gerhart held up one hand to stop her. “Enough!”

“—cousin, I will not allow her to—”

“Halt!”

“—travel in her con—”

“According to the innkeeper, Windermere is a mere two hours’ ride from here.” His annoyance was clear in his voice. “I will see the woman myself and judge whether she is fit to travel.” He started to walk away, but hesitated long enough to chide her. Turning and raising one finger to punctuate his statement, he said, “You would do well to consider curbing your argumentative nature. It would make life a lot simpler.”

His remark was enough to make Kit want to give him a good kick as he walked past, but then the man did the unthinkable. He patted the top of her head as he would a dog and further remarked, “You ought to wash your face more often, too, Sprout. It isn’t such a bad one.”

“Why, you overbearing, black-hearted, thick-skulled—”

He didn’t stay to acknowledge her indignation at being so treated.

Wolf found Bridget in the room she’d shared with Lady Kathryn. The old nurse had a steaming bowl of porridge before her and Wolf paced the room, asking questions regarding the woman’s health. She did look pale and had a terrible, rattling cough. For a moment, Wolf considered giving in to the girl’s wishes. He did not want to cause the woman undue discomfort, nor did he wish to be responsible for the worsening of her condition. However, the old woman insisted she was fit enough to travel. That is, if she could ride with one of the soldiers.

Since it was to be a short ride, Wolf deemed her capable of making the distance. But he cursed the fate that made him responsible for two women. What did he know of the silly creatures? He was a man of war, not a nursemaid.

“Sir Gerhart,” Bridget said tentatively as the knight started for the door.

He stopped and turned, giving her the opportunity to continue whatever she wanted to say. He hoped she’d be quick about it so they could be on their way. Windermere was only hours away.

“About my Kit—she’s a good lass. Never meant to trouble nobody.”

“No,” Wolf replied, turning to leave. He found the old woman’s statement somewhat at odds with his experience.

“Ye don’t understand,” Bridget said. “She’s had to be strong. Independent. She’s, had no one to look after her and there’ve been times...”

“Somers?”

The old nurse nodded. “He’s come close to killin’ her twice. Only things stoppin’ him were the fact that he couldn’t run the estate without her. And the baron never knew when one of them knights would come from King Henry to check on her.”

“Knights?”

Bridget nodded.

“From Henry?”

“Baron Somers never could figure the reasons for those visits. Seemed to be just social calls but the baron was always suspectin’ they came to see Kit for some reason. Never failed to ask about her...”

“When was the last time Somerton was visited by one of these...knights?”

“Well, it’s been some years now. I don’t believe our new King Henry has sent anyone himself, though.”

“And what about the estates? You say Lady Kathryn helps Baron Somers run his estate?”

“No. She doesn’t help him,” Bridget replied.

Of course not. He had just misheard the old woman before. Wolf turned to leave, but stopped dead at Bridget’s next words.

“She does it all herself. She’s used to takin’ charge, like.”

There couldn’t be any doubt that Lady Kathryn was concerned about her nurse. During the entire two-hour journey; she looked back every few minutes to see how the woman was managing, and Wolf sensed her impatience with the time. Not once, however, did he anticipate the hellion who deftly slipped out of his grasp and off Janus the instant they reached the inner bailey of Windermere Castle. She went immediately to Nicholas, who was still mounted and supporting Bridget.

“Come, come now! I’ll need help with her. Just slide her down...” Kit took charge immediately. Nicholas glanced over at his cousin, who watched with puzzled amusement. The older woman came down, and Kit supported her. “Easy now...” She looked up at Nicholas, then at Gerhart. “Well?” she asked impatiently. “I don’t suppose one of you could lend a hand?”

Nicholas dismounted at once and helped Kit to support Bridget who was now wheezing audibly.

“All will be well now, old mother. Have no worry,” Kathryn cooed to her nurse, reversing their appointed roles. Bridget was quite obviously ill and needed warmth and rest. Kit was also of a mind to find the local healer or herbalist, but before she was able to inquire, two of the men sent ahead by Gerhart approached them. Hugh Dryden and Chester Morburn came from the yard, having waited for Gerhart and the others to arrive.