The Bride of Windermere by Margo Maguire

life of her, she couldn’t remember the color of Rupert’s eyes.

Chapter Five
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    T he earl proudly showed off the town as though he were personally responsible for making it so fine. He gloated so much over every little stand of bricks, every little nook and bridge, that Kit was very quickly weary of his company.
    Not to say that she’d been particularly fond of the earl since meeting him the night before. Besides the man’s obvious arrogance, Kit sensed a coldness to him that nearly made her shiver when he was near. It would have pleased her no end to be able to leave Windermere straightaway, but there was Bridget to consider, and she needed rest in order to become well again. And there was Wolf, too. Kit didn’t think she’d be able to sway him into leaving until he was ready.
    Alfie followed her about the fair all day, carrying everything faithfully and maintaining a respectful and contrite bearing. She tried to reassure him many times and smooth over his little blunders. But Philip reacted to Alfie with a meanness that stopped just short of cruelty, and it chilled Kit to think how the earl would behave if left alone with the boy.
    Wolf kept himself occupied at the fair. Kit caught herself looking around frequently to see if she could catch sight of the baffling man, and often found him talking with the merchants, yeoman and other townsmen. There was an ease with which he got along with the people he met, and Kit could see that they liked and respected him.
    Much to her dismay, Kit noticed several ladies in the earl’s party who tried to catch Wolf’s eye. When they succeeded, his rewarding smiles were devastating, even to Kit, who was never the recipient. Kit was all too aware that he didn’t have any smiles for her. Only frowns and scowls. And puzzled looks. She knew she was merely an annoying curiosity to him.
    It irritated her unreasonably when the knight gave his unwavering attention to Lady Christine Wellesley, the daughter of a neighboring baron. Christine was a red-haired beauty, with deep blue eyes, and dimples in her cheeks. Her elegant gown was close-fitted and fashionable. The lady’s hair was exposed, with only the sheerest of silk veils partially covering it. And when Wolf smiled at her, Kit wanted to murder the woman.
    But why? She was the first to admit she had no claim on Sir Gerhart, and she knew she couldn’t possibly compare to the lovely Lady Christine. But it riled her inexplicably. Kit turned away from them and reasserted to herself that she belonged to Rupert Aires. And she was anxious to reach him in London before he went searching for her in Northumberland.
    When they returned to the castle, Philip wouldn’t allow Kit to go inside. He took her arm as she reluctantly moved along the paths with him through the gardens, some distance away from the castle. More than anything, she wanted to go up to Bridget. But no matter how she pleaded with the earl, he wouldn’t allow her to part company just yet.
    â€œYou’re so quiet, Kathryn,” Philip said as they reached a pretty garden pond. It was a lovely setting, with a carved wooden bench nearby and several twisted paths leading out in different directions.
    Philip guided her to the bench and had her sit, then stood looking down at her, placing one booted foot on the seat next to her. He leaned an arm across one knee.
    â€œI’m quiet because I’m a bit fatigued, my lord. It’s been a long day,” Kit finally answered. She hoped he would take the hint and let her go. “Besides, my cousin is ill and I—”
    â€œThere is a matter at hand about which I’d like to speak...though I’m not quite sure whom to address,” he said, frowning. “Just who is your guardian, Kathryn?”
    He was talking in circles, and Kit didn’t know what he was getting at. It was irritating that he had no appreciation for her worry over Bridget’s