My Lady Imposter by Sara Bennett - My Lady Imposter Page B

charming speech of the other evening?”
    She bowed her head and said nothing, the weariness cloaking her once again.
    “Ralf must go to London; the King is there.”
    “Why?” she said, sharper than she meant.
    “To show his loyalty, Kathryn!” The exclamation mocked her.
    “A false loyalty. Why does he show it if he means to rebel?”
    The blue eyes narrowed. “To test the air, to stave off suspicions. You are too curious, lady. Watch your tongue in any other presence but mine. I would dislike my bride to be a mute.”
    She turned and stared at him with her mouth open. He closed it gently with a finger under her chin.
    “No,” she whispered. “You can’t mean it.”
    The dark brows lifted a fraction with pretended concern. “Why not me? Does the fact displease you? I agree the match is not quite... equal. You are so much the higher than I, a mere knight. But needs must, and when I put the point to Ralf he agreed it was imperative you have a strong man by your side to see your orders carried out.”
    She felt her face blanch.
    “Sir Damien needs a watchdog, and de Brusac needs a master beside its lady. Ralf feels I fit both gloves.”
    “And you would not think to disobey him?” she breathed,
    A swift bow, and he kissed her hand. “I do my duty, my lady, nothing more.”
    She jerked her hand away as if stung, and turning, picked up her skirts and ran back towards the castle. He stood looking after, her until she had vanished, an expression on his face which would have puzzled her, had she been able to observe it. And then he, too, made his way back towards the castle.

Chapter Seven
    “Of course it’s true!” Wenna’s lovely mouth was scornful. “Do you think you would be left here to ruin everything? Richard will rule for Ralf, until the rebellion has been fought and won. You’re to be a mere mannequin.”
    “I see.”
    Wenna’s eyes slid over her, malicious, and Kathryn felt herself go cold. “Did you think it else?” she mocked savagely, “What other reason could Richard have for marrying a peasant? I pity him with all my heart! He might have made a match with the King’s daughter, and been shamed by neither birth nor blood, if his father had not rebelled against Henry Plantagenet... And now he must wed you.”
    There was little to say to that, Kathryn decided, it being nothing but the truth. When Wenna had gone, she sat alone by the window, gazing over the dense woods that surrounded de Brusac, trying to pierce the equal thickness of her future.
    Ralf summoned her at noon. He was flushed with his success and greeted her almost affectionately. “Ah, Kathryn. Richard has told you? The marriage must be made as quickly as may be. Quietly, of course, because of Sir Piers, and the King. The King would insist on being present. But, this way, we can tell him you were married before even you came to de Brusac, hmm? I have made arrangements with the priest. He will do as he is told or we will send him packing.”
    Her throat was dry as she swallowed. “I do not wish to marry him, my lord.”
    He stared at her a moment as if he could not believe what she said, and then his brows came down and he said softly, savagely, “You had best do as you are bid, Kathryn, or I shall have to punish you. A bride need not necessarily be unmarked to wed. I could have you beaten.” A smile, making his golden eyes burn, “Shall I ask Richard to chastise you?”
    “I am used to beatings,” she retorted.
    A silence, and then he laughed. “What, do you pine for your filthy hovel? Do you really?” When she did not look up he caught her chin and jerked her face up to his handsome, ruthless one. He laughed softly. “No, you do not, do you? You have grown used to the ways of noble people. You are afraid of doing without them now. Well, take care, girl, I do not send you back to your sty. Remember, you are still my serf.”
    The priest, it seemed, was as unwilling as Kathryn. But, like her, his livelihood forced him to