Chapter Six

Servants approached the high table, carrying huge dishes piled high with food. Ralph ordered the servants to take several down to the lower tables, then, when more servants placed a hollowed out round of bread in front of her, he placed a selection of roast meat and stew upon it. The mixed aroma of pork, saffron, and stewed apple made her stomach rumble. She should fix her attention on the food, not the hands serving it. Definitely not imagine those hands upon her body.

Wrenching her attention from Ralph, she took a sip of wine and rolled the combined flavors of cinnamon, honey, and strong burgundy wine around her tongue. The insistent drumbeat filled the hall, urging her feet and fingers to tap out the rhythm.

Ralph leaned across to her, and suddenly her pulse set a far more frenetic beat than the drums. “I hope you’ll grace us with a dance later.” His gaze swept her like a caress, making her shiver.

How long since she had lost herself in music and let the rhythm sweep her into a dance? The last time had probably been—her heart lurched. The last time she had danced like that had been her wedding.

She became aware of Ralph’s gaze upon her, a furrow between his brows. His eyes stripped her to the soul, and a bubble of panic welled up in her chest.

She gave a laugh, hoping it didn’t sound as strained in Ralph’s ears as it did in hers. “You mean you’re not going to lock me in my room the moment the meal’s over?” She winced. The words had sounded light and jokey in her head, but they emerged as an accusation.

His eyes darkened. “Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?” She twisted her hands in her lap.

“You know what I mean. The shrewish retorts. What are you trying to hide?”

“I…I’m sorry. I never mean to be rude. It just comes out that way.” It was the first time anyone had called her out on her rudeness. After Rob had died, she’d dreaded concerned friends and colleagues asking how she was, fearing she’d disgrace herself by dissolving into tears. It had been much easier to deflect them with a joke or flippant comment. Only they often came out far more abrupt and rude than she’d intended. But it worked. People soon gave up and avoided her. Of course, when the engineering company she’d worked for had been forced to make redundancies, it also meant she’d been among those laid off.

She put her hand to her throat, startled yet again when her fingers failed to find the silver coin.

“Have you lost something?” Ralph nodded at her questing fingers.

“Only my br—” She bit back the jokey retort and drew a breath. If she was going to make a new life, this was the first thing she must change. “I had an old silver penny on a chain. When I was thirteen, I found it in the mere at…at my home when I was with Rob.”

“Rob?”

“My husband. We weren’t married then, of course.” Images of that carefree summer with Rob played in her mind: the laughter; the sunny days swimming and rowing on the mere; the nights lying on the jetty, fingertips touching, counting shooting stars. For three years the image she’d had of Rob was his expression of horror when he’d known he was going to fall. Allowing herself to talk about him helped break past that moment, released the happier memories of their time together. “The coin already had a hole through it, and Rob put it on a chain for me. I never took it off until last night, when I…lost it.”

“A reminder of happier times.”

“That and more.” It had become a talisman. A symbol of her love for Rob.

She would have expected Ralph to dismiss the penny as female sentimentality, so she was surprised when he nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. “I’m sorry you lost it. I know how you feel. I…lost a ring recently.” He pointed to the band of flesh on his right index finger that was paler than the surrounding skin. He had long fingers, square-tipped with short, clean nails. Lovely fingers. Her hands tingled with the urge to weave her own fingers through his.

Bloody hell! Where had that come from? Heat flooded her cheeks; she shot Ralph a glance, praying her expression hadn’t revealed her admiration. What had he said? Ah, yes, his ring. “That’s a shame. Was it valuable?”

Ralph nodded. “But I treasured it for its association with my father. It belonged to him. He gave it to me when he left for the crusade. Said he was proud of me and knew he could trust me with his lands.” There was a faraway look in his eyes. Kat doubted he was even aware of the music and laughter surrounding them. “He died of a fever without ever setting eyes on the Holy Land.”

“You must miss him.”

“All the time. The ring was a constant reminder of my need to manage these lands well and live up to the trust he had in me.”

Then his eyes snapped back to the present and he looked at Kat. One corner of his mouth twisted in a wry smile. “My apologies. We shouldn’t be dwelling on the past. This is supposed to be a feast.” He beckoned to a servant. “Have some more wine.”

“I—” Kat stopped when brain caught up with what Ralph had just said.

“Your father. Do you mean he went on crusade with King Richard?”

“Yes.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you were one of those maids who thought the flowers bloomed wherever King Richard stepped?”

“In a way, I suppose, although not quite how you mean.” Finding the coin with the head of Richard the Lionheart stamped upon it had spurred Kat to find all she could about the legendary king. From there her love of history had blossomed. “Did you ever meet him?” It made her dizzy to think that the man next to her had been a contemporary of her first historical crush.

“No. He was hardly ever in England, and my father never took me with him when he went to France.”

“What about King John?”

Ralph thumped his cup down, sloshing crimson wine upon the tablecloth. “Oh yes. I’ve met him.”

The bitterness and frustration in his voice were clear. He opened his mouth to say more, but Eleanor leaned across and placed a hand on his arm.

“Let’s not spoil the feast, dear.”

Ralph clenched his jaw, then after a long pause he took a drink from his cup. He replaced it with great care and nodded. “Forgive me.”

Eleanor smiled. “Now tell me about the gray stallion you were thinking of buying.”

Not being interested in Ralph’s opinion of horses, Kat let her attention drift. But every now and again, she glanced at Ralph, wondering what had caused his mood to darken.

****

The lively notes of the fiddle and the succulence of the roast boar soon lightened Ralph’s spirits. And, if he was honest, Katherine’s presence also helped. Despite her sharp tongue, when she was near, the candles glowed brighter, the fire warmed deeper, and food tasted sweeter. Or maybe because of it. No other woman would dare to speak to him in that manner. It was a refreshing change. Christmastide looked set to be much happier than he could ever have imagined, despite Lord Hywel’s absence and the King’s incessant demands for money.

After Twelfth Night he would devote his energies to achieving the marriage. In the meantime, he would enjoy Christmas. And Lady Katherine.

Seeing that she wasn’t eating, he cut a piece of roasted boar and placed it on her trencher.

“Forgive me for my display of temper,” he said, offering her a lopsided smile that had always left the recipient blushing. Annoyingly, she remained unflustered. “I received a message containing bad news earlier, but I shouldn’t have taken my ill mood out on you.” Fool. There’d been no need to go into detail. A simple apology was all that was required. He could almost see his father’s frown. Never explain yourself. Only weak men offer excuses.

“I’ll forgive you if you’ll forgive my…shrewish tongue? Was that how you described it?” Katherine’s eyes sparkled with a mischievous light, and he found his lips curling in an answering smile.

“Agreed. Truce?”

“On one condition. No more questions. They bring out the worst in both of us.”

“Done.” He raised his cup in a toast. “No questions. However, that does mean I’ll be forced to give you commands.”

Her eyes opened a fraction wider. “What do you mean?”

He leaned back in his chair, enjoying the moment. “I’ll give you an example. Later, when the dancing starts, I was going to ask if you’d like to join in. But as questions are forbidden, I must order you to dance instead.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “What makes you think I’d obey?”

“Because I’d like to see you dance. And I always get what I want.”

Even as he said the words, he knew he wanted far more than to see her dance. She was a beautiful woman. Desirable. If he hadn’t been about to negotiate for Lord Hywel’s daughter, he would have been tempted to bed her.

Judging from her blush, she had read his thoughts. “It’s time you learned you can’t always get your own way.” And he knew she didn’t mean the dancing.

A pity. The more he looked at her, the more facets he found to her beauty. The soft candlelight cast a golden glow upon her pale skin, emphasizing the delicate cast of her features. Ralph imagined tracing the lines of her cheekbones and lips with his fingers, chasing the caress with his mouth. He leaned closer, as though he were the needle to her lodestone.

Heaven help him, if he didn’t do something quickly, he was going to kiss her in front of the entire hall. He had to find a distraction before he created a scandal that would destroy any hope of an alliance with Lord Hywel.

Katherine’s right hand drifted up to her throat once again. It gave him an idea.

“Excuse me a moment.” He walked down the hall until he found his armorer at one of the lower tables.

“Your health, my lord.” The armorer rose and bowed his head.

Ralph drew some coins from the leather pouch at his belt. “I have a job for you, once the feasting is done.” He explained what he wanted.

The man grinned. “If only all the work you gave me was as easy.”

“How long will it take?”

“Not long.” The man took the coins and jingled them in his hand. “I’ll do it now, before the wine leaves me too incapable to handle my tools.”

A few places along the bench, another man raised his cup. “And your wife wouldn’t like that!” He stood up, swaying. “To Arnulf! May he never lose control of his tool.”

Benches overturned as others rose to their feet, raising their cups in toasts, each bawdier than the last.

Time to get the people dancing before a fight broke out. On his way back to his seat, Ralph paused by the musicians’ platform. “Start the caroles.”

As the first notes rang out, there was a ripple of movement around the hall as people rose, and servants hurried to move the trestle tables and benches to the sides of the hall. Once the lower end of the hall was cleared, dancers formed a circle at the far end of the room.

Ralph slipped back into his seat and smiled to see Katherine tapping her fingers against her wine cup.

“I’m tempted to issue a command.”

“I’m not in the mood for obedience. Anyway, I don’t know the steps.”

Another puzzle. “It’s simple. Just dance around in a circle.” Who didn’t know how to dance a carole?

“I’d prefer to watch.”

And that seemed to be the truth. She leaned forward, watching the dancers with an intense concentration that reminded him of a monk he had once observed, copying out the scriptures, so intent on his task that he’d been deaf to all around him. Katherine was drinking in the scene as though trying to impress every detail on her memory.

“You act as though you’ve never seen a carole.” It wasn’t a question. He waited to see how she would respond.

“I’ve seen pictures, but it’s not the same.”

He shook his head, trying to form a statement from the myriad questions crowding his mind. “You must come from a strange place.” It was the best he could manage.

She gave a small smile. Secretive. “It feels like another country.”

An odd reply, which provoked more questions. Whether it was the wine, the music, or her beguiling presence he couldn’t tell, but he couldn’t think of a way to frame them as statements. Stealing a glance at her, it hit him how much he was enjoying her company as well as her beauty. She presented a challenge. And he always enjoyed a challenge.

Yet again she was tapping her fingers in time with the music. Acting on impulse, he rose.

“I believe you’ve had enough time to study the steps.” He gestured towards the dancers. “Come with me.”

At first she hesitated, as though contemplating refusal. Ralph was almost looking forward to the battle. However, a slow smile spread across her face, lighting it with a beauty that made him catch his breath. She rose and lifted the hem of her gown. “I hope you won’t regret it when I trip all the dancers into a tangled heap.”

“It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”

He took her arm and steered her to a circle of dancers who wheeled just below the dais. The dancers formed a space for them, and soon they were dancing the simple steps and joining in with the refrain. Every time he glanced Katherine’s way, he saw her laughing and smiling, her skirts swishing around her legs, allowing him an occasional enticing glimpse of shapely ankles. Her leaf green gown, with its decoration of seed pearls around the sleeves, neckline, and girdle, perfectly matched the mistletoe suspended from the rafters above them.

All too soon the music ended. Katherine turned to him, breathless and glowing from the dance. “I don’t want to stop. I was just getting it right!”

As if in response, the musicians started another tune. This one was slower, with a plaintive refrain and a rhythm that stirred the blood.

His mother approached and held out her hand to Katherine. “Stand with me.” Eleanor took her hand and led her to form a ring with the other women. Ralph joined the men inside the women’s circle, facing them.

The dance began, the men turning one way, the women the other. As he moved around the room, a blur of candlelight and the swirling skirts of the women filled his vision. Every so often the carolers would stop turning and dance on the spot. When that happened, each man was supposed to look into the eyes of the woman opposite. Each time the circling stopped and he saw a woman who was not Katherine, he felt a growing frustration. No matter how he tried to hold the gaze of the woman before him, he couldn’t resist seeking out Katherine.

Then, as the dance came to a close, he stopped in front of her. Their eyes locked. He couldn’t have moved even had he wanted to. Her face was flushed, and her eyes sparkled, the remains of her animated smile still curving her lips. He had to stop himself from taking her in his arms and tasting those lips for himself.

His desire must be blazing in his eyes, knew by the rapid rise and fall of her chest that she had seen it. She groped for her missing pendant and lowered her eyelids. But not soon enough to mask her own longing.

****

Kat’s heart sped up, competing with the drum-beat. She couldn’t drag her gaze from Ralph. The lamplight sparkled in his eyes, highlighting flecks of amber in their depths. It was getting difficult to drag air into her lungs. It must be the hundreds of candles, burning up all the oxygen in the room. Nothing to do with how Ralph dominated her vision. Invaded her thoughts.

The tempo of the music changed, and the dancers circled again, sweeping her with them. Bloody hell, what were these people on? If she didn’t stop for breath soon, she’d pass out. It didn’t help that every time she looked at Ralph her body became disconnected from her brain, and she couldn’t seem to work out what to do with her arms and legs.

The circling stopped. Yet again she was opposite Ralph; their eyes met with a jolt. She rocked on her toes as though an invisible force pulled her toward him.

Someone crashed into her side. Tearing her gaze from Ralph, she noticed the other dancers performing intricate skipping steps to the left and right. Face burning with mortification, she tried to copy them but went the wrong way and bumped into the woman to her left. “Sorry!” she gasped.

Then the circling resumed, and she was forced to disentangle herself and do a skipping run to keep up. If she didn’t escape soon, there would be carnage. It was all Ralph’s fault. If he didn’t keep distracting her with that smoldering gaze, she wouldn’t be having this problem.

Seeing that the dance had brought her close to the high table, she took her chance and broke free from the circle. She stumbled to her seat, tripping over her hem and bumping against people in her haste. Once there, she picked up her wine cup, her hands trembling so much she had to grasp it with both hands, and took several gulps, the spices burning her throat.

Where was Ralph? He hadn’t followed her. Not that she was disappointed. That stab in her gut was simply to do with swallowing her drink too quickly. It didn’t take long to spot him. He was impossible to miss, the way the light seemed to concentrate in a glow around him. He’d also left the dance and stood at one of the lower tables, talking to the man she had seen him with earlier.

As she watched, Ralph took a small bundle from the man and tucked it into a pouch at his belt. Then he strode around the hall, stopping every now and again to exchange greetings with his people, not only the more richly dressed men and women occupying places close to the dais, but those who were clearly of a lower rank. He certainly seemed popular. Everyone leaned forward eagerly to gain his attention, and Ralph appeared genuinely interested in each person. Everyone also looked well fed and healthy. Not something she’d expected considering the state of medieval health care. Then again, Whitwell had a reliable, clean water supply: the Whitwell spring was renowned for its purity and had made her family’s fortune. The bottling plant set up by her great-grandfather had enabled them to retain their manor when other old families were forced to sell their ancestral homes. If she was going to be stuck in the twelfth century, this was the place she would choose.

But then there was Ralph. She glanced across the hall, picking him out with ease from the group clustered around him. Her insides knotted. The way he made her feel…it was too soon. This wasn’t how she had planned her reintroduction to relationships. With Rob, they had started as friends. It had been years before their relationship had evolved from that of childhood friends to sweethearts. When they had finally made love, the summer before going to university, it had felt like a homecoming. Rob made her feel cherished. Safe.

But this…whatever she felt when Ralph was near…it wasn’t safe. It was wild, a deep, primal urge. She burned with a heat that surely couldn’t last. And when it went out, what then? She’d be lost again. Alone again.

A light touch to the hand made her jump. She looked round to see Ralph standing at her shoulder, regarding her with the same intense gaze that seemed to see into her soul. Heat flooded her cheeks. What if he could read her thoughts? See the sensual images his presence provoked?

“I’ve got something for you.” I bet you have.

His hand went to his belt. The belt slung low on lean hips. The belt Kat’s fingers itched to unbuckle.

She tore her gaze away. “Do you always creep up on people like that?” Sodding hell! There she went again—snapping at whoever got too close. Why be embarrassed about her attraction? It was obvious he felt the same way, so he was hardly likely to be offended.

It wasn’t as if she planned to do anything about it.

Ralph’s brows drew together, but he replied in mild tones. “Only when they don’t hear me call their name. Several times.”

“Ah. Sorry. I was in a daydream.” Please don’t ask what it was about.

A speculative gleam lit his eyes, and he drew a breath.

No! She couldn’t do this. She shoved back her chair and rose. “Excuse me. I…need some air.”

Heart hammering, she stumbled from the dais, lowering her head to avoid his gaze. She aimed for the courtyard doors. At least, she thought she did. When she looked up she found she’d ended up in one of the shadowy recesses at the far end of the hall. Great. She’d have to walk back past the dais to reach the doors.

She leaned against a pillar, swallowing to clear the sudden ache in her throat. What on earth had possessed her to throw that damned coin into the mere? At least before she’d been alone in the comfort of her own home. Now she was lost in a strange place, assailed by powerful feelings, with no way to escape.

“Are you ill?” Ralph stepped from behind one of the garlanded columns.

She closed her eyes briefly. Of course he would follow her.

She managed to force her lips into a smile, but she couldn’t summon the energy for any more biting retorts. “I’m fine. I said I needed some air.” In this dark, claustrophobic alcove.

“You left before I could give you this.” He held out his hand, and Kat saw a soft leather bag in his palm, closed with a drawstring.

A gift? For her? She had to press her fingers to her lips, which suddenly trembled. No one had given her anything other than a P45 in nearly two years.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“I know. Open it.”

She took the bag and untied the cord. After a quick glance at Ralph, whose face gave nothing away, she tipped the contents into her hand. There was a flash of silver and a tangle of brown leather. She stared, uncomprehending, long enough for the chain of dancers to perform a complete circle. Finally she picked up the silver disc and held it up to the candlelight. Her heart pounded so hard she could feel the blood beating in her fingertips.

“It’s my penny.” Her lips were so stiff from shock she could hardly form the words. “Where did you find it?” Had he fished it out of the lake after she had thrown it in?

“It’s not the one you lost.” Ralph leaned over her, his breath brushing her cheek. “It’s one I already had. Gave it to my armorer and asked him to punch a hole in it. There wasn’t time to make a chain, so he just threaded a leather thong through it.”

She turned the penny this way and that between her finger and thumb, her hands trembling so much she fumbled, and it slipped from her fingers.

Before she could react, Ralph’s hand shot out and caught it. He pressed it back into her hand, his fingers skimming her palm. She sucked in a breath as jolts of pleasure shot down her spine. The alarm bells that had caused her to flee before were fading. This time she gave in to her impulse and leaned against his shoulder.

She really needed air now. No matter how she struggled to draw breath, nothing eased the sudden tightness in her chest. She dared to raise her eyes to his face. A wave of dizziness washed over her when their eyes met. She clutched his forearm to regain her balance. Not the brightest idea she’d ever had: the feel of steely muscle through his fine woolen sleeve only made her heart beat faster.

“Thank you.” Her voice was strained. Husky. She cleared her throat. “It’s perfect.” Tearing her gaze away, she traced the raised cross on the coin’s reverse. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

How could she? There was no way to explain to him that this was the exact same coin she had thrown into the mere, just one night ago and over eight hundred years in the future. It wasn’t simply that the coin held the same design. The irregular notch to one side of the hole, the dent above the king’s eye and the deep groove through one of the arms of the short cross on the reverse…there was no doubt that this coin and hers were one and the same.