The Bride of Windermere by Margo Maguire Page A

welfare.
    â€œIs it your father, Baron Somers? Or the King, as rumor suggests?”
    â€œI’m sorry, my lord, I myself don’t really know. No one has told me of any change in guardianship, though I’ve heard Sir Gerhart say that I’m under King Henry’s protection.”
    â€œHmm.” He stroked his pointed brown beard with the tips of his fingers.
    â€œI’m in need of a wife.”
    She almost choked.
    â€œAs you know, Lady Clarisse expired some months ago...”
    â€œMy lord, you have taken me completely unawares. I had not anticipated—”
    â€œYes, yes, well, 1 appreciate all that but whom do you suppose I should petition? Henry? Your father?”
    By God, he was callous indeed. Poor Clarisse, Kit thought. The woman was barely cold in her grave, and her husband was already trying to replace her. Angry now, Kit stood abruptly and moved a few paces away from him. In view of his indelicacy, she saw no reason to indulge in any form of diplomacy. He had been rude and unfeeling all day, first with the boy from town and later, when some of the townsmen tried to speak to him. His behavior had been embarrassing, but this was the last straw. Kit was fed up with the arrogant earl.
    â€œI don’t think—” Her pointed response was interrupted by a group of men ambling down one of the paths towards the pond, who were talking and laughing loudly. Their last jest was particularly funny, judging by the uproarious laughter that overtook them when they reached the pond. Kit recognized Hugh, Edward and Douglas, all of them Wolf’s men, who tried, amid tearful regressions into laughter, to apologize to the earl for interrupting his peaceful afternoon. Egbert, Ranulf and Claude hung back sheepishly, apologizing and turning to go.
    Their hilarity was infectious, though, and Kit found herself smiling, then nearly laughing out loud at Wolfs men. They posed a ridiculous picture—six great knights, all guffawing and slapping their thighs. The earl, however, did not appear amused at all, and practically dragged Kit away, muttering angrily. She suppressed a chuckle, thinking that the jest this time was on the earl. And she couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.
    Smiling at his irritation, she followed along obediently until they reached the castle entrance, where Wolf stood on the steps, casually tying a leather thong to one of his saddle packs. He barely looked up as they passed, only enough to meet Kit’s eyes for a second. However, with a growing suspicion, she noticed that he put away his work as soon as she passed by with the earl. She also didn’t miss the fact that Sir Wolf wore a vague expression of satisfaction as well, not unlike the one worn by the cat that swallowed the field mouse.
    Blanche Hanchaw greeted the earl anxiously as he entered the great hall with Kit.
    â€œYes, yes, Blanche.” Philip was unmistakably preoccupied. “We’re back.”
    â€œIf I might have a moment...”
    Philip still held Kathryn’s elbow and was about to guide her somewhere when the Hanchaw woman attempted to draw the earl away.
    â€œ...’tis a matter of some importance...er...one of your... guests ...my lord...”
    The housekeeper’s words and manner caused the earl some hesitation. He released the grip he had on Kit’s arm, though he kept her hand and kissed it. There was a disturbing glint in his eye when he looked at her, and Kit repressed a shudder when his cool lips met the warm skin on the back of her hand. “Until we sup, my lady.”
    Thankfully, Kathryn was dismissed, at which point she tore up the staircase in a rather undignified manner in order to get to her chamber. She had worried about Bridget all day and felt guilty about leaving her with only the maids to tend her.
    Kit rounded the corner at full tilt and drew up short, for Wolf was standing in the corridor near his door, his arms folded over his broad chest,