Her Knight Protector
‘Then you are rare amongst men,’ Maria muttered and glared at him. ‘Not all Christian knights have your scruples, sir. I vow there are those only too keen to steal it for themselves.’
‘What mean you?’ Alain’s eyes narrowed as he looked from her to Katherine. ‘Has this something to do with the Lord Hubert of Ravenshurst? Was it his men who came here? I recall that you spoke of him when the Lady Celestine joined us.’
‘Yes, I spoke of him,’ Katherine said as she realised that she could no longer hold back such important information. ‘Somehow he learned of my father’s discovery. You must know that my father wrote down the provenance of…his discovery, for without it he could not prove that the treasure is what he believes it to be. There are many holy relics for sale in Palestine, and indeed in Rome itself, but my father’s discovery was made by painstaking research over many months and years.’
‘There are always holy relics wherever you travel,’ Alain agreed, ‘and many of them are false. I dare say that some, which have been made into shrines, have no true provenance, but something of the importance that your sacred trust entails would need proof if it were to be accepted as the true—’ He broke off and looked at her, and she saw a gleam of excitement begin in his eyes. ‘If it is what I think…men have been searching for it from the time of the crucifixion.’
Katherine felt a quiver of alarm. She had known that even the most trustworthy of men might be tempted by her treasure, perhaps not for greed, but for the glory that such a find could bring them.
‘I have not told you what it is, sir,’ she reminded him. ‘It may be that my father was mistaken…’
‘Would you let me read his writings?’ Alain asked. His eyes were steady on her face but held warmth, a concern that made her heart race. For a moment she thought that his feelings towards her were more than mere courtesy. ‘If I gave you my solemn word that I will return them to you when we reach England, would you trust me?’
Katherine hesitated, and then nodded. Instinct told her that if she could not trust this man, then she could trust no one. She crossed the room to where a plant in a great earthenware pot stood in an alcove and lifted it, revealing a flat leather pouch. Hesitating but a moment, she picked up the pouch and handed it to Alain.
‘You will find my father’s writing hard to decipher, sir, for he had a small neat hand, and in places he has used his own code. From these you will not learn the nature of his treasure, only the details of his research. There were fuller descriptions of his work, but they were lost with his baggage. I believe there is enough left to give credence to his discovery, but you may study these and give me your opinion.’
‘I thank you for your trust in me, Katherine,’ Alain said and hesitated, then reached out to touch her cheek. It was the merest graze of his fingers, but it sent tremors running through her, and his smile made her blush. ‘You may be certain that I shall keep the nature of your secret to myself—though I am bound by friendship to tell Bryne that the Lord of Ravenshurst is your enemy.’
‘I dare say Sir Bryne is a man you can trust,’ Katherine replied, for, if he was Alain’s friend, how could he be otherwise? ‘You may tell him as much as I have told you should you think it right.’
Alain inclined his head. ‘In future I believe you should take care in walking alone, Katherine. At least until we are in England.’
‘I am grateful for your kindness, sir, and for the opportunity to confide in you. It is a heavy burden I carry, and I confess that I do not know what to do for the best.’
‘Will you allow me to help you once I have read and thought about your father’s work? If I am convinced that his discovery is truly important, I would count it an honour to see it placed where it might be of benefit to all of our faith.’ His eyes met hers in a gaze that held her fast. ‘The question is—will you trust me, lady?’
Chapter Three
‘I t seems that I already have, sir,’ Katherine replied and her heart skipped a beat as his look seemed to caress her. There was something about the curve of his mouth and the expression in his eyes then that made her feel that she might trust him with more than her secret. When he looked at her in that way she was ready to swoon. She could almost believe that he might feel more than friendship towards her. No, that was mere wishful thinking on her part and foolish. ‘In truth I believe I have no choice.’
Alain reached out to take her hand, holding it for a moment as he gazed into her face. ‘I thank you for that trust, Katherine, and do swear to assist you in your task to find the right home for your father’s treasure.’
‘But where should that be?’ Katherine asked. The question had exercised her mind all too often. ‘In a great church or in the house of some powerful king?’
‘That is a weighty question and not one that can be answered immediately,’ he replied. ‘And now, my lady, may I take you to supper? It was for this purpose that I came, fortunately in time to hear Maria’s screams.’
‘Yes, I thank you,’ she replied and laid her hand on the arm he offered. She could see from Maria’s expression that she believed she had spoken too freely to Sir Alain—but what else could she do? She must trust someone, for it seemed that the Lord of Ravenshurst was determined to steal her treasure no matter what.
She had told Sir Alain nothing of her suspicions of Celestine, Katherine realised, as they went into the banqueting hall and discovered that Celestine was already there, sharing a glass of wine with Sir Bryne and a tall, handsome gentleman. Celestine was smiling invitingly up at the newcomer, seeming to enjoy his attention. Observing his manner for a moment, Katherine guessed that he was the owner of the villa.
Marcus Aurelius Calabria had returned to Rome from his travels and was delighted to find he had unexpected guests. Especially one as beautiful as the Lady de Charlemagne.
He turned as Alain approached, greeting him with evident pleasure, his eyes moving over Katherine without registering interest and returning to Celestine almost immediately.
‘It was the most delightful surprise to discover that we had company,’ he murmured. ‘I do trust that you are to remain with me for some time?’
‘For a few days only,’ Sir Bryne replied as Celestine merely fluttered her long lashes at him. ‘The ship we travel on is making repairs and should be ready to sail within the week—but, for myself, I intend to return to Rome often. With the opportunities for trade that have opened to us, I think I may make a home in Venice one day. I would see England and my family, but I think the climate there too dark and dank to hold me forever.’
‘It is often the case with those who have seen other lands,’ Marcus replied with a smile. ‘I have visited your country, Bryne, as you know, and formed friendships with your father and others—but I would not care to live there. It is a dark, gloomy place, too full of mists and frosts for my liking.’
‘Indeed, I wonder if I shall find my home too gloomy,’ Celestine said and fluttered her long lashes at him. ‘Especially after seeing your beautiful home, sir. I had not known such places existed.’
‘I thank you for your compliment,’ he said and inclined his head to her. ‘We live much as our ancestors in ancient Rome, lady, for my family have a long tradition. In the north we have a castle as dark and cavernous as any you might have encountered, for my uncle is Duke of Ferencia and guards his lands as best he may. I have been visiting with him for a time, but here in my summer home I enjoy the simple life. In Rome we have no enemies and may walk freely as we will.’ He saw Alain’s frown and raised his brow. ‘Something troubles you, my friend?’
‘I would have a few private words with you, Marcus,’ Alain replied and drew him away from the Lady Celestine. In a moment Marcus was heard to exclaim and look angry and then he and Alain left the room together, deep in conversation.
‘What has happened?’ Celestine asked, startled by such a change in her host’s behaviour. She was slightly annoyed, for she had felt that she was making a favourable impression upon their host.
‘Sir Alain drove off two men who were searching my room,’ Katherine told her. ‘They had knocked Maria down and might have killed her had he not arrived in time.’
‘God have mercy!’ Celestine had gone pale and crossed herself. ‘Thank goodness you were in the garden with me, otherwise you might have been hurt, Katherine.’
Katherine frowned. The older woman seemed concerned for her and it would be churlish to suspect her of having asked her to walk in the gardens merely to get her away from her room. She noticed that Bryne’s eyes had narrowed, that he was looking very thoughtful. What could have brought that expression to his face?
‘Yes, I was fortunate,’ she said. ‘But my poor Maria might not have been had Sir Alain not chanced to hear her cry.’
‘Maria is a servant—’ Celestine began and then realised her mistake. ‘But of course I know that she is dear to you. Yet I cannot help be thankful that it was she who discovered the villains and not you, Kate.’
Katherine gave her a cold look. ‘Maria is my friend, not a servant. Please remember that—and I would prefer that you call me Katherine. Only my father called me Kate.’
‘Forgive me. I did not mean to offend.’
‘It is merely a preference…’
Katherine was ashamed of the coldness in her voice, but she could not help it. Deep down inside her, there was something telling her that Celestine’s friendship was false and she could not dismiss the warning.
Sir Alain and Marcus had returned to the company now. They spoke briefly to Bryne, and then Marcus clapped his hands and the servants began to serve supper.
As in ancient times, when the Romans held their great banquets, the company sat on benches or silken cushions piled on the floor and ate with their fingers from low tables. Finger-bowls of silver and gold had been provided for washing the hands, and music was played to entertain them while they ate and talked.
This was not a great banquet, merely a gathering of a few friends, but the food served was rich and there was what seemed to Katherine to be an endless stream of exotic dishes. She ate sparingly, enjoying most the fruits and dates. Occasionally, she dipped her fingers in the scented water and wiped them on a soft cloth to dry them. The wine was heavy and potent. She drank, as sparingly as she ate, from a wine cup, which was fashioned of silver and studded with precious jewels on the foot. Through the open arches that led out to the gardens floated the scent of night-flowering blooms. The sky was dark, but the stars were sprinkled generously across the velvet blackness.
‘It is the stuff of dreams, do you not think so, lady?’ Sir Bryne asked as he leaned towards Katherine. Celestine was laughing with their host and Alain seemed to be lost in thought. ‘Marcus and his family know how to enjoy life, do they not?’
‘It is certainly most pleasant,’ Katherine replied. ‘Do you truly intend to make your home in Venice one day, sir?’
‘It is the greatest trading nation on earth,’ Bryne replied, looking thoughtful. ‘A man of enterprise might become wealthy there beyond his dreams, and powerful—especially when he has good friends. I have certainly considered it, but I must see my home and family once more before I decide.’
‘Have you a large family?’
‘My father was elderly when I left England and may not be still living, but I have elder brothers and they have wives and children. I hope to find some of them alive and well on my return.’
‘You have no wife, sir?’
‘No.’ Bryne frowned. ‘There was a lady once…but she married another, richer man and I put all thoughts of marriage aside and determined to make my fortune. Yet I suppose I may marry one day, if only in the hope of a son to follow me.’
‘And Sir Alain…?’ Katherine asked and then blushed as his brows rose. ‘Forgive me. I ask too many questions.’
‘I believe he has not thought of marriage as yet, lady.’ Sir Bryne smiled at her and Katherine lowered her eyes. She must be more careful of her words or she would give herself away, and that would be embarrassing. ‘Though with such a man it is not always easy to know what is in his mind.’
Sir Alain seemed to have shrugged off his reflective mood and was now laughing and talking to Celestine, apparently enjoying the pleasure of her company. It was clear that he found her attractive, which was natural, for she was very beautiful. Feeling a tiny pang of disappointment, Katherine scolded herself for allowing the green-eyed monster of jealousy into her heart. She could not blame Sir Alain for finding Celestine fascinating. The older woman was both beautiful and charming…even if Katherine did suspect her of being false.
But perhaps she was letting her emotions blind her. She had no right or cause to be jealous. She must put aside these foolish ideas and thoughts that had begun to creep into her mind, plaguing her whenever she was unwary enough to let them.
Sir Alain had turned his head and was looking at her now. Katherine glanced quickly away, for she could not meet his gaze, which was concerned and thoughtful, but not the kind of look he bestowed on the lovely Celestine.
She knew he thought her a mere child, and perhaps she was compared to Celestine. Yet she felt like a woman, and her heart ached for the tenderness she was developing towards this man, foolish as it might be.
‘Our host was telling me of a shrine in his garden,’ Alain said now. ‘This villa was built on the site of others that had been here since the great days of Rome. There was once a temple to the goddess of love here, and a shrine still remains.’
‘How very pagan,’ Celestine said, ‘and rather exciting. I should love to see this shrine—would not you, Katherine?’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ answered Katherine a little uncertainly.
‘The time to see it is at night when the moon shines, for the goddess loved the moon,’ Marcus Aurelius told them. ‘If it pleases you, I shall show you now, for the moon hath come out from the shadows and will light our way. It is said that, if you please the goddess, your heart’s wish will come true.’
‘Oh, we must see this shrine,’ Celestine exclaimed. ‘Do say you want to see it, Katherine!’
‘Very well, if you wish it.’
Katherine rose reluctantly, but it was clear that Celestine was eager to see the shrine of the goddess of love. She was walking with her hand upon her host’s arm, teasing him with smiles and words as they walked just ahead of the others.
‘Are you offended by the thought of a pagan goddess?’ Alain asked Katherine. She gazed up at him for a moment, her eyes wide and serious, before shaking her head. ‘Then is it the Lady Celestine that offends you?’
‘Neither,’ Katherine replied. ‘I am a Christian by faith, sir, but my father was a great scholar, as I have told you, and we discussed other forms of religion. I dare say there is merit in many of them, but I would not put my faith in anything a pagan goddess might reveal to me.’
‘Would you not?’ Alain gave her a wicked smile, which made her catch her breath. Something inside her made her feel as if she would melt in his warmth. How handsome he was when he smiled like that! And how foolish she was to let it affect her this way. ‘Not even if you might gain knowledge of your heart’s desire?’
‘I have no desires, sir,’ Katherine replied with commendable dignity in the face of his provocation. Her heart was racing like the wind, but she would give him no indication of the confusion his teasing aroused in her. What was this strange feeling inside her—was it what they called desire? If so, she had no right to feel it for a man who had no such feelings towards her. ‘I am not like to find a lover nor yet a husband, for I have no fortune and my face is unremarkable.’
‘You are not a beauty,’ Alain said, looking at her seriously now. ‘But you have something about you, lady, that many would find attractive.’
Katherine laughed merrily. ‘You are kinder than my father, sir, for though he loved me dearly he never thought me other than plain. He told me that I was unlikely to wed without a large dowry and I have no thought of it.’
‘Are men such fools that they must have either a pretty face or a sack of gold?’ His brows rose, but the expression in his eyes puzzled her since she did not know what lay behind it.
‘I do not believe that all men are fools, sir. Indeed, I would not think either you or Sir Bryne a fool—but still I do not believe that I am likely to find many suitors…and perhaps no one I would care to accept. I would prefer to remain unwed rather than make an unhappy marriage.’
‘That is your choice, of course.’ He hesitated, his eyes making her heart thud in her breast as she felt something stir inside her—a feeling so sweet, like warm honey—and was almost breathless. ‘But what of love and the fulfilment of your destiny?’ His brows rose as he teased her and her foolish heart leaped. Why did she feel so light-headed—almost as if she could walk on air?
‘If I found love, that would be another matter,’ Katherine said and her smile lit up her face, though she managed to retain her appearance of cool dignity. ‘But I fear my destiny may be to remain unwed until I die.’
‘That would be a sad destiny for one of your nature,’ Alain said and the soft tone of his voice set her insides churning. She was hot with something that she suddenly knew for desire. This was how a woman felt about the man she loved, and Katherine could no longer deceive herself. She had for her folly fallen in love with Sir Alain de Banewulf!
She glanced aside, for she could not bear that her own expression should give her away. It was surely unmaidenly to have such desires. Besides, he had given no indication that he felt anything of the kind for her. He was kind and concerned for her welfare, but nothing more. To reveal her foolish passion would humiliate and shame her.
Fortunately for Katherine they had reached the shrine and, after some exclamations from Celestine, the small group fell silent. It was a beautiful spot in a small grove. The shrine was just a pile of stones that most would ignore, but it was surrounded by fragrant shrubs and vines that sheltered it from prying eyes, and there was a quietness about the place that touched the soul.
Katherine was very aware that this was a holy place. As a Christian she could not worship the deity that had been consecrated here, but she felt its power and its goodness. There was no evil here, just a benevolent kindness that seemed to reach out and envelop her—the feeling of love so strong that she found herself wishing for something so ridiculous and smiled to herself.
Foolish, foolish Katherine! Sir Alain would never love her as she loved him.
‘What must I do to please the goddess?’ Celestine asked of her companion and broke the feeling of reverence that had held them all until that moment. ‘Shall I give her my silver bangle?’
‘In ancient times women gave her gifts to learn the secrets she knew,’ Marcus Aurelius replied. ‘But I have been told that the gift must come from the heart—and a simple thing will find more favour than a rich jewel.’
‘Then I shall not give her my bangle,’ Celestine said. ‘For it is one of my most precious possessions. I shall think of something else and visit her another day—for I would not have you hear my demands of her.’ She gave him a mocking, inviting look.
Katherine turned away with a little shiver of disgust. It seemed that Celestine used her smiles indiscriminately on all men to get her way with them. She had seemed to entice Sir Alain with her inviting looks, but now she was more interested in their host.
Katherine noticed that Sir Alain was watching and frowning, and she felt her heart contract with pain for him. She was sorry if Celestine had hurt him, for he was a gentle and true knight and she did not want him to suffer a broken heart.
‘I shall take you back to the villa,’ he told her, turning his back on Celestine. ‘Come, lady, I would see you safe and the hour grows late. I shall not see you in the morning— I have some business I must attend before we leave Rome.’
Katherine made no reply, simply turning with him and allowing him to lead her back to her own room. He said good-night to her, made her a courtly bow and waited until she was inside the villa before turning away.
Would he return to the others—or would he prefer his own company? He seemed to spend much time in thought and she wondered what kind of a man he was inside. In truth she hardly knew him. Perhaps it had merely been the moonlight that had played such a trick on her? How could she love a man she did not know?
Smiling at her own impudence, she went to perch on a stool and sat dreaming as Maria came to free her hair of its covering and brush it so that it flowed over her shoulders in soft waves. Now, if she had but known it, with that look upon her face, a gentle smile curving her lips and her hair reflected in the moonlight, she was truly as attractive as Alain had told her. But she had no mirror to see her own reflection, nor would she have believed it had someone shown her. In her own mind she believed herself plain and nothing could change that long-held opinion.
The night was too beautiful to allow for sleep. Katherine was restless and rose from her bed, looking out at the moonlight. The scent of the wisteria that hung on the villa walls was strong and made her somehow wistful. Perhaps it was the full moon that kept her from sleeping—or was it something else?
There had been a sound… There it was again, the soft tinkle of a woman’s laughter. Celestine was in the garden. Now Katherine could hear the deeper laughter of a man. Two figures had come into view. They lingered for a moment in the moonlight, the man drawing the woman into his arms to kiss her.
Katherine watched as Celestine arched her head back, her manner that of surrender to his desire. It was an intimate moment and private. Withdrawing from her window, Katherine felt hot and ashamed of spying on the lovers.
She had not been able to see them clearly enough to know who the man was, but she suspected that it was their host. Celestine had been doing her best to tease him all evening. And now it seemed that they had an understanding of an intimate kind. Perhaps she would stay in Rome with him.
Feeling even more restless than before, Katherine returned to her bed and lay down. Seeing the lovers entwined in that passionate embrace had made her more aware of all that was missing in her life. Would she ever know that kind of intimacy? It was unlikely, for who would want to lie with her? She had thought that she could face a life without love, but that was before she had looked into a pair of blue eyes and seen a smile that made her heart beat faster.
She knew that once she had parted from Sir Alain her life would seem emptier than before—but there was nothing she could do but accept her fate. To sigh for the impossible would only bring her unhappiness.
‘Are you thinking of staying here for a while?’ Katherine asked Celestine as they walked in the villa gardens the next morning. ‘Our host has said that we are welcome and you have expressed doubts about returning to your dower lands.’
And she had seen that kiss in the garden the previous night!
‘It would suit me to live here as the wife of such a wealthy man,’ Celestine admitted. ‘But our host already has a wife. They live apart for much of the time, but there is no chance of another taking her place. I dare say I might be his mistress if I cared for it.’
‘I see…’ Katherine glanced at her curiously. Had that kiss meant nothing to Celestine? ‘Are you attracted to Marcus Aurelius?’
‘As much as I am to most men,’ she admitted and laughed as she saw Katherine’s look of inquiry. ‘Do not be shocked, my sweet Katherine. When you have been married you will understand that all men are much the same and desire only one thing of a woman. Understanding that is the key to getting what you need from them. For as long as you keep them wanting, they will do anything to please you. But their passion soon tires.’