Authors: Midsummer's Knight
Jack nodded. “Aye, I all but ran down his servant in the wood. The boy is half out of his wits with fear of his master. Scantling wants Kat’s estates, and he is past caring how he gets them. He plans a hunting accident, and waits in hiding for you to ride past. Wormsley swears the knave is a good marksman. Hear me, Brandon? How can there be a wedding if there is no bridegroom?”
Brandon released his friend, then he leaned back against the wall. Only an hour before, he had held Katherine next to his heart and dreamed of sharing many happy years with her.
“We must protect the ladies, and all in this household, for the dog is rabid and may strike at anyone.” As Brandon spoke, his anger bubbled over into a scalding fury. “Give word to our men that we will saddle our horses at first light and hound the cur into the earth.”
Jack shook him. “’Tis
you
he seeks. You will ride straight into his snare.”
“Nay, I will be the bait to spring the trap,” Brandon replied sharply.
“You will be a dead man before you hit the ground,” Jack growled. “Be warned, my friend. If I have to tie you to the bedpost until your wedding day, I will do so.”
Brandon knotted his fist. “Make no light threats, Jack, unless you have the strength to carry them out.”
Before Jack could retort, Kat appeared in the doorway to the alcove. “How now, my lords? What’s amiss?”
“Nothing!” Brandon snapped, shooting a warning glance at Stafford. “Save that Jack saw a wild boar near the village. Tomorrow we will hunt him down and serve him with an apple in his mouth at our wedding feast.”
“Come rack and ruin!” Jack muttered.
“My lords, my lady!” Montjoy’s mournful voice echoed in the hall. “There is news!”
Kat threw up her hands. “Has all the world gone giddy before supper? Here, Montjoy.” She stepped into the larger chamber. “What is all the new fuss?”
Gripping Jack’s shoulder, Brandon whispered in his ear. “Your oath that you will say nothing to the ladies.”
Jack returned him a glowering look. “Do as you please, and go to the devil.”
“Good,” Brandon muttered, “I am glad we understand each other.” Then, in a louder voice he asked, “What is this news, Montjoy?”
The old steward looked at each of them in turn, then, staring at a spot above the chimney piece, he intoned, “There is a messenger come from the king. ’Tis for Sir Brandon Cavendish and Lady Katherine Fitzhugh.” Pausing, he lowered his voice. “When you have decided among yourselves who will receive him, let me know. I await in the corridor.”
So saying, Montjoy turned smartly on his heel and stalked out of the hall.
“Saints in heaven!” Kat sent Brandon a stricken look. “The king has changed his mind!”
Chapter Fifteen
B
randon’s face wore an impassive expression. “Let us see what the king has to say.”
His words, spoken in a cool, impersonal voice, drove an icy dagger into Kat’s heart. Brandon was happy for this last-minute reprieve. At least, he was thoughtful enough to mask his pleasure from her.
Three weeks ago, Kat would have welcomed the king’s mercurial change of heart. Now, ’twas her own heart that had changed. She recalled that Sondra had once said something about not appreciating a thing until you had lost it. Looking at Brandon’s stiff posture and compressed lips, she could almost feel him withdrawing from her. Jack sent for the messenger.
Neither of them spoke, nor even glanced at each other. Brandon’s fingers clenched into a tight fist. Kat saw his knuckles stand out white against his skin. She lifted her chin. She was no moonstruck girl, but a mature woman. She had faced adversity before, and she could do so again. At least she could be thankful to Brandon for one thing. He had taught her the meaning of love.
Montjoy escorted a young, mud-stained messenger into the hall just as Miranda descended the stairs. “My lords and my ladies,” the king’s servant began after his bow. “I have a letter from Sir Thomas More.” Pausing, he looked at the four people before him. “Who is the Lady Katherine Fitzhugh?”
Kat glanced over her shoulder at Miranda. Miranda appeared to have gone into a trance as she stared across the hall at Jack. Ignoring the messenger, Jack crossed to her side and took her hand in his.
Kat shook herself. “Give the letter to me. I speak for Lady Katherine.” She held out her hand.
The messenger pulled a small vellum packet from his leather pouch. With another bow, he presented it to Kat.
She managed to return his smile. “You must be tired and near famished from your ride. Montjoy will take you to the kitchen, where you may eat as much as you desire. After that, he will show you where you may rest.”
The messenger touched his forelock. “My thanks, lady.”
After Montjoy took the boy out, Kat looked down at the letter in her hand. The end to her happy idyll lay under its fat wax seal.
“Open it, sweetheart,” Brandon murmured.
Startled, Kat looked up into his ice blue eyes. She had not heard him move to her side. “My...my hands shake,” she whispered.
“Let me come to your aid.” Brandon took the packet. Slitting open the seal, he scanned the contents. A grin spread over his face, followed by his deep, rolling laughter. “A jest too rich and rare to be believed!”
Kat gritted her teeth. Their betrothal a rich jest? How happy and relieved he looked! The churl! How dare he take her heart, then grind it into the mud! She itched to slap him, just to stop his shameless laughter that grated upon her nerves like a rusted hinge creaking in a wayward wind.
“What is the news?” Jack asked, leading Miranda to the center of the hall.
Brandon managed to stop laughing long enough to answer. “The Lord Chancellor, Sir Thomas More, informs us to expect Robin Hood, Maid Marian and the whole band of Sherwood Forest outlaws at our wedding next Saturday morn! He further states that Robin will expect right royal treatment in every detail. He suggests that Lady Katherine lay in a goodly store of provender to feed the royal company.”
A wave of light-headedness washed over Kat. She clasped the golden brooch on her bodice.
“Hoy-day, look to the lady!” Jack called a warning.
Brandon caught Kat as her knees gave way. “Think you were going to escape being wedded to me that easily, my sweet?” he whispered as he carried her over to the window seat.
Kat clung to him as he settled her in his lap. “Methought, for the briefest of moments, that you...that the king...that you were glad...” She reached for the cup of wine that Miranda handed to her, and drank the contents greedily.
Brandon chuckled near her ear. “Glad to escape wedlock? Nay, my lady. I have grown too fond of...playing hazard with you.”
Kat drew in a deep breath of relief. She reveled in the warmth of his hands around her, and the aroma of mint, leather and musk that accompanied him.
Miranda gasped. “Then you know!”
Brandon groaned in mock surrender. “I fear we have been discovered, sweet Kat.”
“Aye.” She sighed, though, at this blissful moment, she didn’t care who had discovered what. She was still betrothed to Brandon, and no one, not even the king, was going to stop her wedding now.
Miranda glanced from Brandon to Kat. “Have you no shame, sir? You know that she is Lady Katherine, and yet, you still dare to pay court to her, while my Lord Cavendish stands by. Fie upon you, Sir John! How could you encourage him, Kat?”
Brandon raised one eyebrow in amusement. “She’s a pretty little vixen when she’s angry, eh, Jack? ’Tis something you will have to watch out for in the future.”
“Aye,” he replied, gazing at Miranda with a soft, adoring look. “If the lady will have me.”
Miranda merely stared at the grinning trio, tongue-tied. Her eyes grew larger. She opened her mouth, but no sound came forth.
Poor Miranda! This shock may send her back to our chamber for a month!
Kat smiled at Miranda. “‘Tis true, cousin. We have been outfoxed by these grinning rogues. I promise you, I
have
kept my pledge to Sir Brandon, for ’tis he who holds me in his arms.”
Miranda raised her eyes to Jack. “And you are...?”
He kissed her hand, “Sir John Anthony Joseph Stafford of Fenderwick, but my friends call me Jack—and I pray that you will be the foremost of my friends.” He gathered her into an embrace. Miranda swayed.
“Help me, I feel faint,” she murmured.
Brandon rolled his eyes. “It must be something in the air, Jack, that makes our ladies swoon.”
“Aye,” he replied, sitting down next to Brandon, with Miranda in his arms. “Methinks the malady is marriage.”
Kat sat up straighter. “Marriage! Alack, I almost forgot! Who does Sir Thomas mean by Robin Hood coming to our wedding?”
Brandon began laughing again, until Kat rapped him on the back of his hand. “‘Tis none other but the king himself, my sweet,” he told her when he had caught his breath. “’Tis a great trick of his to disguise himself in some outlandish costume, then surprise his unwary subjects.”
“The king is coming to Bodiam in less than a week? God save us!” Kat gasped. How many of his court would attend him? Was she expected to provide sleeping accommodations for them all? What room would be good enough for the king, who she knew liked rich appointments? “Why is he Robin Hood?” she asked.
Brandon shrugged. “Why not? Great Harry has played bold Robin’s part before.”
“Maid Marian will be Lady Anne Boleyn, no doubt,” Jack added. “Who the others will portray is anyone’s guess.”
Brandon kissed away the furrow between Kat’s brows. “Fret not, sweet. The letter says that the company will reside at Lady Anne’s home in Hever, not here. Furthermore, the king is a generous man. He knows that his court creates havoc upon a household, especially when he surprises the hosts. He will bring provisions, and a good cask of his favorite wine, methinks.”
Jack nodded. “Aye, I remember a time when old Wolsey was still in power. My lord cardinal had a great feast at the palace of Hampton Court, which he once owned, you know. Just as the sugar subtleties were being served, there was a knock at the door. Who should it be but a dozen hooded men of dangerous mien, who said they had heard of the cardinal’s feast and had come to be entertained.”
Kat blinked. “Did Cardinal Wolsey call his guard?”
Brandon took up the tale. “Nay, for he knew ‘twas the king and some of his henchmen. He invited us in, then set out another feast, which had already been prepared in the kitchen. ’Twas even more lavish than the first. Afterward the ‘guests’ asked permission to dance with the ladies present. Of course, the cardinal granted it. At midnight, the king took off his disguise, and everyone pretended to be amazed.”
Kat’s lips twitched. “You sound as if you were there.”
Brandon gave her a mock leer. “Aye, Jack and I were two of the wickedest cutthroats you would ever meet. As I recall, the ladies were quite taken to dance with such dangerous rogues.”
“Aye?” Kat inquired.
“How
well taken, my lord?”
Brandon colored slightly. “In honest amusement, Kat.”
“And you, my lord?” Miranda asked, having recaptured her composure. “How did you take the ladies?”
Jack cleared his throat. “I cannot remember any lady save yourself, sweet Miranda. All others are but shadows to me.”
“Jack always had a silver tongue,” Brandon whispered in Kat’s ear.
She giggled, then she remembered the message. “The king! Here! I must see to the pantry and buttery at once. Philippe will be in a frenzy over this! ’Twill make his day a red-letter one, or else he will jump into the moat. I am not sure which.”
Brandon grimaced. “Pray, for the sake of our dinner, that your good cook will not choose the moat.”
Giving Brandon a quick kiss, Kat rose. “Come, Miranda, we have much work to do. The king arrives in six days. Montjoy!” she called. “I have news that will make you weep whole onions!”
Miranda slowly drew herself away from Jack’s embrace. “Till supper time, my lord?” she asked shyly.
“’Twill be a century till then.” Jack kissed her fervently.
Standing at the doorway, Kat observed the tender scene with amusement. Miranda looked like she was in a dream world. No doubt she would keep Kat up all night with her chatter, if Kat did not share a bed elsewhere. She hugged herself at the delicious thought. Best to bring her cousin back to earth before Jack led her away to a convenient trysting place. “Miranda!” she called. “I have much need of you in the kitchen! Now!”
Jack released her with another kiss. “Go with Lady Kat, my love. We will talk anon. I have much to say to you.”
“And I will drink up your every word,” Miranda replied.
“By our larkin, Miranda! You’d think you had just met Jack Stafford!”
Brandon watched Kat seize her cousin by the hand and drag her down the stairs. Once the women were out of sight, the lightness of his heart dropped away. “Wipe that ridiculous grin off your face, Jack,” he snapped. “You look like the court jester’s monkey.”
Jack arched an eyebrow. “How now? What’s amiss? What crab apple has stuck in your craw? Are you not pleased that we can shed our borrowed clothes and be ourselves again?”
Brandon nodded. “Aye, but think with your head, and not with your heart, my friend. The king comes in a few days. Meanwhile, Scantling roams the home park with murder his intent. We must find him quickly.”
Jack put his hand on Brandon’s shoulder. “Aye, I had forgotten for a moment. You are right.”
“Let us gather our men in the stables, and plan our search for the morrow. Ask some of Kat’s guard to join us, since they know the countryside, but we must swear everyone to the greatest secrecy. I do not want the ladies to know what we are about, until after we have done it. ’Twill only distress them more.”
Jack’s face clouded. “There is another that will distress your bride, if she accompanies the king. Have you given thought to that?”
Brandon flared his nostrils. “You speak of my Lady Bardolph? Aye, she crossed my mind at Sir Thomas’s news. If she comes, what of it? What passed between us was over ten years ago.”
“To spoil your happy day, she would tell Kat.”