Chapter Fifteen

K itty sat on the lumpy mattress in her narrow bedchamber, bidding her hands to not shake as she listened to the panicked sounds echoing through the castle beneath her. Rushing footsteps sounded on the stairs, accompanied by the banging of doors and the occasional shouted warning. It took her back to that terrible night when she and Rosalind had hidden in the pantry at Shoreston, listening to Owain tear the house apart in his search for the very same jewels.

These gems must be cursed, to have wreaked such havoc on her life. Especially today, when happiness had briefly seemed within her grasp.

Tears brimmed in her eyes and Kitty dashed them away impatiently. Clarity of vision had never been more vital. At any moment, Thomas may bang on the door and demand her room be searched. She would have no choice but to comply.

She needed but another minute. Her needle flew through the woollen gown she had brought from home. Her sewing was untidy, if anyone looked closely, they would notice the uneven hem and the strange bulges within it. But why should anyone look closely at the dress of a serving maid?

Her fingers trembled with emotion and the needle slipped, plunging directly into her thumb. She winced with pain and a bloom of blood flowered on her skin. Blood as red as the rubies which were secreted into her dress.

If only she had confessed the truth before Guy realised the jewels had been taken. The words had hovered upon her lips, she waited only for the courage to say them aloud. Courage which fled from her when she saw the dark rage which descended upon him. Anger transformed his face, turning him from someone she trusted into a man she feared; the infamous Earl of Rossfarne. Her knees had trembled, and her mouth had clammed tightly shut. Even then, she could have made her confession.

"I am Owain's daughter. The jewels belong to me."

Simple words, which might have made all the difference.

Tears came properly now, streaming down her face with no chance of being checked. Upstairs in the tower room, she had vowed to return the jewels at the first opportunity. Once they were safely back in the saddle bag, she could finally tell Guy the truth about who she really was.

But she hadn't been braced to admit to theft as well as deceit.

Guy's fist had crashed down onto the writing desk, sending his quill and a raft of papers drifting to the floor.

"I will not be made a fool of twice," he roared. "The castle shall be searched. Whoever stole from me will be flogged."

Kitty couldn't remember how she had fled up to her own bare room. All she knew was that her fate was sealed. No relationship could succeed when it had begun in darkness and deception.

Thomas flung open her door, his cruel mouth twisted up into a smile. The man was in his element.

"Stand aside," he ordered. "I have orders to search this room."

Her legs shook like jelly, but Kitty managed to move herself to the back wall. She leaned against the cold stones, needing support. Thomas crossed to her small closet, bringing with him a waft of stale ale. She closed her eyes as he rifled through her meagre possessions, tossing Lizzie's straw hat onto the floor and taking obscene delight in running his gnarled fingers through her stockings.

"What's this then?" he exclaimed, as his eyes alighted on Guy's travelling cloak, which she'd flung onto her bed. He fingered the heavy brocade. "Unless I'm very much mistaken, this belongs to his lordship." The manservant crossed his arms, enjoying his moment. "Do you care to explain how it comes to be in your chamber?"

Kitty met his stare levelly. "As you can see, Thomas, I am in the process of mending it." She indicated her needle and sewing kit.

He narrowed his eyes. "I know of no tear in that cloak. It hasn't been worn since winter."

She shrugged her shoulders, showing how little she cared for his prior knowledge. She was sore inside, from what she and Guy had done just hours earlier. She had felt so close to him then. Safe and protected, maybe even cherished. But now, scarcely hours later, she was being interrogated by his manservant.

She straightened her back, ignoring the burn at the top of her thighs. "You may examine it, if you wish. Even do me the favour of returning it to his lordship. My work on it is finished."

He scoffed at her suggestion. "I am not here to fetch and carry for a chambermaid."

Their eyes clashed in an unspoken battle of wills.

"Then may I help you with something else?"

His gaze flickered over her crumpled woollen dress and she held her breath as he loomed over it.

"More mending, I presume?"

"It is my half-day and the weather is inclement." A splatter of rain hit the shutters, emphasising her words. "I am keeping myself busy as best I can."

He shot her a look of dislike. "Return the cloak at your first opportunity."

He stalked from the room and she sagged against the wall with relief. One hurdle had been passed. Now she must wait until nightfall to put the rest of her plan into action, and leave Rossfarne Castle, forever.

*

"Saints preserve us, Kitty, you're never going outside in this storm?" Cook gasped in horror, as Kitty crossed the kitchen and wrestled with the heavy outer door which had been bolted shut against the storm.

"I want only a breath of air," Kitty reassured her, hating her lie. Wind whistled around the castle and rain fell against the granite walls like arrows from an invading army.

"It will be the death of you," Cook protested, half rising from the rocking chair she'd pulled away from the window.

Kitty rammed her straw hat onto her head, aware of the futility of the gesture even as she did so. Her mind raced for a reason why she might want to go outside at such a moment, when the skies had darkened and the rain fell in torrents, but only a madwoman would do so.

Or a woman driven mad by love and her own lies.

"It has been a trying day. Especially coming after the heat. I am suffocating inside these walls."

"True enough." Cook settled back down in her chair. "That Thomas took great pleasure in turning my store cupboard upside down. I'd have minded less if he cleared up afterwards." She held a warning hand out to Kitty. "You don't be long though, mind, or I'll send a search party after you. And stay away from the ramparts. The waves come right over on a night like this." The old woman sat up straighter as if suddenly remembering something. "And the gatehouse, of course. It was struck by lightning not many months since."

Kitty nodded to reassure her, her gaze swinging past the darkened window. It was not yet nightfall, but clouds had blackened the sky since late afternoon. They had lost all sense of time; the search for the stolen jewels taking precedence over the daily rituals of castle life. Guy had not been seen at all. He'd sent orders to cancel his meals. Any chance Kitty may have had for one last exchange, however veiled, had vanished.

Part of her was glad of it. How could she have looked him in the eye after this?

Cook, though, was a different matter. "Thank you for your kindness to me," Kitty declared boldly. She couldn't say a proper goodbye, but she could at least express her gratitude before she left.

Cook looked up in surprise. "Well now, that's nice to hear. You're welcome, pet. I say we all have to look after one another, being so apart from the mainland."

Kitty swallowed a lump in her throat as she finally managed to wrestle open the door. More lies. More deceit. To someone else who didn't deserve it.

Walking outside was like stepping into a different world. The storm was fully upon them and in the swirling winds, Kitty struggled to orient herself. Within seconds, the driving rain had soaked through her woollen dress. Lizzie's hat flew from her head, evaded her grasping fingers and bowled off in the direction of the choppy sea. Strands of her long hair broke free from her hasty plait and whipped her face, but she had no choice but to continue. Once she reached the causeway, she would run. In less than an hour she'd be back on the mainland, perhaps able to spy the chimneys of Shoreston peeping above the trees.

Arming herself with thoughts of home, Kitty ploughed on, her feet sliding on the wet cobbles. The storm was like a personal attack; all her inner turmoil had been manifested into this force of wind and rain which now set itself against her. Thunder rolled overhead with an elemental rumble. She put her hands to her beating heart and squeezed her eyes shut until the fearful sound faded away.

She must get to the causeway. Kitty put one foot in front of the other, tears now streaming down her face to mix freely with the rain. Only a thief or a fool would be out on a night like this. She was both.

As she turned the corner to the cove, lightning forked through the dark skies and illuminated the crashing waves. Yes, the causeway was clear, but it was far from safe to cross. She had never seen the sea as high as this. The storm drove a relentless succession of white-tipped, angry waves towards the mainland, drenching the causeway even though the tide was still out. If she attempted to cross, she'd be washed out to sea within seconds.

Kitty's wobbling legs came to a halt. Her plans had come to naught. Hot tears stung her eyes. It was no more than she deserved.

She couldn't return to the castle, not when leaving had been so hard, but neither could she stay outside.

The stables. She could shelter there until morning and leave at first light.

Kitty caught at her wind-lashed hair with one hand and lifted her dripping skirts with the other. Progress towards the outbuildings was against the wind and even harder than before. She leaned for a moment against the crumbling walls of the gatehouse, before remembering how lightning had torn through this building in a previous storm. Sobbing with fear, she plunged back into the rain. By the time she reached the safety of the stables, she was weak with exhaustion.

Rain beat down on the roof, but inside all was calm. Horses looked up from munching their hay to examine the curious, bedraggled creature who disturbed their evening routine. Kitty staggered forwards, relieved to be out of the disorienting winds. Her skirts dragged against the floor, heavy with rain as well as the jewels sewn into the hem. Her heart pounded beneath her bodice, but here was safety.

She tried to speak, to reassure the watchful horses, but no sound came out of her mouth. She inched forwards and a great trembling came over her body. She was chilled to the bone, with no means of getting warm.

Maybe there was a blanket somewhere that she could use? Kitty pushed a strand of wet hair away from her face. It all seemed very difficult. The pathway through the stables, to where she was sure the stableboys kept their store, suddenly morphed into an upwards slope. She staggered forwards, blinking to refocus her eyes.

All she needed was something to rest against, just for a moment. But the gates of the stalls were too far away. She was going to fall. The nearest horse looked at her with surprise as she teetered towards it. Footsteps sounded on the cobbles. Footsteps from someone with a long, swift stride. As if from a great distance, she heard her name being called. Strong arms gripped her shoulders and pulled her up towards a broad, muscular chest she could lean upon. Gentle hands cupped her cheeks.

"Kitty, what are you doing in here?"

She rested her head against Guy's broad shoulders, conscious only of the warmth and solidity he represented.

"You're soaked through. Come, let me find a rug to dry you."

He walked her up the rearing slope. Kitty's flesh burned and her legs trembled. All the strength had left her limbs, leaving her with no choice but to submit to his care.

"Why are you outside of the castle, on a night like this?"

How could she answer? Only with the truth. She parted her lips to say the words but all that came out was a wail of sorrow.

He shushed her with a warm kiss on the top of her head. "Don't speak. Just sit."

They had entered the grooms' store. Guy guided her towards a short three-legged stool, and she sank onto it gratefully. In another moment, he covered her in a rough woollen blanket, rubbing at her arms to bring feeling back to them.

"It's no good," he said. "Not with your dress clinging to your skin so."

There was nothing for it but to let him unbutton her bodice and peel the sodden material from her chilled body. She put up many a weak hand to help him, but her fingers were chilled and useless, and Guy's movements brisk and efficient. There was none of the fiery chemistry from earlier, only her need to be warm and Guy's instinct to take care of her.

When she was clad only in her chemise. Guy once again wrapped the coarse blanket around her shoulders and this time she took comfort in the weight of it. She reached up to hold the folds together and for the first time, vocalised her thanks.

"When you've had a chance to recover, I will demand an explanation for how you came to put yourself in such jeopardy." He smiled down at her. "It's a wonder I was here to find you."

He had found a rough cloth from somewhere and was now tenderly drying her hair. She closed her eyes as a tingling warmth gradually stole over her body.

"How come you are here yourself?" she asked at last.

"To check on my horse. He's full of nerves, even without the storm. I didn't want him to do himself an injury. The stablemaster is unused to horses bred for battle."

She couldn't allow anyone else to see her like this. Kitty's eyes flew open. "Where is he? The stablemaster, I mean."

"I dismissed him and the stableboys for the night." Guy shrugged. His handsome face, creased with concern, loomed in and out of focus. "To tell you the truth, I wanted to be alone."

"I'm sorry," she cried out. A phrase to cover more than he knew.

His hand settled on her shoulder. How she longed to grasp hold of it. "Drink this," he said, handing her a silver hip flask.

The burning liquid scalded her throat. She coughed and her eyes watered, but it brought a welcome warmth to the insides of her stomach.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

He walked over to the half open doorway at the other side of the stables, just as forked lightning tore through the sky. The thunderclap was so loud that Kitty closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers around the edges of the stool, holding on until the fearful rumbling finally ceased. When she opened her eyes, it was to see Guy's tall, muscular figure shining golden in the lamplight.

"The storm shows no sign of abating," he said, turning to face her with a furrowed brow. "I think we must stay here for now, else we'll risk another soaking."

She had no wish to go back out in the storm, but the stool was wobbling beneath her tired limbs.

Guy picked up a pitchfork and dug it into a stack of hay. The fresh, grassy fragrance washed over her as he spread the hay evenly over the stone cobbles.

"Here," he said, when he had built up a thick layer. "You can lay down and rest."

Unease must have shown in her face, for he laughed lightly. "Kitty, after all that has passed between us, you must know that you are safe with me."

She had no hope of expressing her true emotions. Instead, she bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. "The stableboys," she said at last. "They can't find me here."

"They will not." He reassured her. "I will wake you at first light. But for now, you must rest."

He helped her onto the thick, sweet-smelling hay and covered her tenderly with the rug.

"Rest," he repeated, dropping a chaste kiss onto her forehead. "And I will make sure you are not disturbed."

"Guy." She reached up to catch hold of his fingers. "Thank you."

There were so many things she needed to say, but weariness overwhelmed her and her eyes were closing of their own accord. She stretched out beneath the blanket and permitted her frenzied thoughts to settle.

She would explain it all in the morning. She would find the right words; words that would make everything okay again.

As she drifted off to sleep, she heard Guy whispering against her ear.

"Thank you, Kitty," he said, "for showing me that there are still some people in this world who can be trusted."