“Who was responsible for the ambush that killed your father and John? Was it ever found out?”
“The Marquess of Kendal, who was my father's closest friend and ally, tried to investigate the attack and the rumors that followed my father's death,” Wolf explained. “But he was put off every time by the king. Henryâyour fatherâwas tremendously insecure at the time, with plots and threats and small revolts going on all around him. It was years before Henry knew whom to trust, and even then, he couldn't be sure.
“Kendal said he felt certain that Clarence and Philip Colston had been behind the attack, but he could prove nothingânot until I showed him the parchment we found outside Agatha's window at Windermere.
“Just about the time Bart Colston and his sons departed England for Germany, an assassination attempt was made on King Henry. The cutthroat who was hired to carry out the deed fumbled it, but managed to escape capture. However, though he escaped, the man accidentally dropped a purse containing a few gold coins and a missive bearing the old Colston seal. The contents of that purse became conclusive evidence in Henry's mind, that the Earl of Windermere was responsible for the attempt on his life. Further incriminating the earl, the Colstons all âfled' England right at that time, presumably in case the assassination attempt failed.
“One of Henry's scribes at Westminster deciphered the document. Kendal had already recognized the seal as that of the Welshman, Owen Glendower, but most of the words were faded and distortedânearly impossible for us to make out.”
“What did it say?”
Wolfs voice was cold. “In the letter, Glendower merely congratulated my Uncle Clarence and his son, Philip, for their ploy to be rid of Henry and gain an earldom in the process. He fully appreciated the twist of fate ensuring that Windermere fell into Clarence's hands as well as placing the blame on Bartholomew for Tommy Tuttle's handiwork.”
“Tommy Tuttle!”
“The man hired to kill King Henry. I never did find Tuttle himself,” Wolf said, “but some of his cronies still hang about London. I gathered that he was a nasty piece of work with Welsh connections, but I couldn't find anyone willing to talk about his activities with Glendower twenty years ago.”
“But you didn't need him to prove your case to Henry?”
“No, though I wanted to present every bit of evidence I could find. I did discover, however, that Tuttle could not read.”
“That shouldn't have been a great surprise, Wolf. There are not so many who canâ”
“No, it wasn't a great surprise. But why would an illiterate felon carry with him a note giving explicit instructions on murdering the king, along with methods of escape and then conveniently drop the purse with the note and the payment inside?”
“Hmm. I suppose Henry also concluded that your father had been falsely implicated?”
“Aye. He did.”
“What about Philip now? And Agatha?” They leaned a little to the left in the saddle to avoid some branches that hung low over the track.
“WellâAgatha,” he said. “We had always assumed she'd been part of it.”
“We?”
“My grandfather and I,” he replied. “He is Rudolph Gerhart, Margrave of Bremen.”
So Bridget had been right, Kit thought. Wolf was the grandson of a prince.
“When Hugh got me to the abbey after the attackâ”
“Hugh?”
“Hugh Dryden. You know him, Kit. He accompanied us from Somerton.”
Yes, of course she remembered Hugh. He was a powerful but wiry man, possibly a few years older than Wolf. He was rather plain-faced with dull brown hair and piercing blue eyes. Kit remembered that Hugh was never far from Wolf, though it occurred to her that she hadn't seen him in weeks.
“It was Hugh who saved my life and got me to the abbey of St. Lucien after we were ambushed. As a youth, he'd been sent to foster with our family, so he happened to be with us when we were attacked and he hasn't left me since. But I digress.
“It was my grandfather who believed that Clarence and Philip were responsible for the deaths of my father and brother.” His voice was thick with emotion, but he went on. “I was too young to understand it then, but when I came of age and started talking about returning to Windermere, he told me his suspicions.”
“And that's why you used your grandfather's name when you returned to England?”
He nodded. “I couldn't very well come back declaring I was Wolf Colston, heir to Windermere, could I?”
Kit agreed.
“My grandfather never really believed I'd ever prove anything against Philip, but since I am not Rudolph's heir, it didn't particularly matter to him when I left Bremen. He never had much use for me. As for Nicholas...” one side of Wolfs mouth twisted up, “...he was never a favored grandson, either. Old Rudy will likely turn up his toes when word reaches Bremen that Nick is now a viscount.”
Kit smiled, though she didn't really understand why Wolf's grandfather would be chagrined to find that his grandsons had done well.
“My plan was to serve Henry and win his trust, then go to Windermere and find a way to expose Philip. I'd never had any idea that Agatha would turn up the evidence I needed. There were rumors that she died years ago, but you saw her. And you didn't believe she was a ghost?”
“No. She was flesh and blood.”
“Well, whether or not she was involved in the conspiracy with Clarence and Philip, she apparently recognized me when we were at Windermereâ”
“I couldn't tell you at the time, but she called you âthe wolf.”'
“Ah?”
“Or
âmy
wolf,' actually. I think she may have told me you were the rightful earl, but she spoke in riddles and rhymes. I think she's mad.”
“Well, for some reason, she wanted to see Philip fall from grace,” he said. “I can't think of any other reason why she would have given you my father's seal.”
Kit shrugged.
“1 don't doubt she and Philip have been on tenuous terms since Clarence's death. In fact, John Beauchamp thinks Agatha may have been a virtual prisoner in that tower room for years.”
“I wonder if anyone else knows of the secret door.”
“I doubt it,” Wolf said. “I spent the first nine years of my life there, exploring every corner of the castle and
I
was surprised when you told me of it.”
“I wonder what happened to her.”
“Frankly, I'm more interested in what happened to Philip.”
“And Hugh,” Kit asked. “Where has he been these last few weeks, anyway?”
“At Windermere,” Wolf said. “Keeping track of my cousin, Philip.”
Chapter Sixteen
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T
hey had ridden several hours when Wolf finally led Janus off to the side of the beaten track near a broken-down, uninhabited stone hut. He swung off the beast's back and reached up to help Kit slide down.
They walked west through a heavily wooded area with rugged hills and huge granite outcroppings scattered among the trees. Wolf took Kit's hand, and they made their own path through the thick underbrush of the woods. It was a bit like a fairy place, Kit thought, with beads of moisture still on the thickly growing ferns. The sunlight filtered in through the tall shafts of the trees and reflected on the sparkling water droplets. It was misty in the higher ground and craggy hills jutted up out of the haze like gnarled old fingers of a long-forgotten troll.
Wolf cleared the way as they climbed one such wet, rocky hill, and Kit heard the sounds of flowing, splashing water as they moved higher.
“Where are we?” she asked as they made their way to a wide ledge carved out of the hillside. Kit wondered if they were going to climb to the top.
“Windermere land,” Wolf replied as he led her around to the far side of the rock. “There's a place I want you to see.”
Kit picked up her pace and followed more closely, warmed by the thought of Wolf bringing her to a special place. He'd said nothing of his feelings on the marriage, yet she sensed acceptance in him. In fact, if his pleasure during their encounters the previous night and in the morning came near to matching hers, she was certain he couldn't help but have some tender feelings for her. The thought brought hope that the marriage would yet prove satisfactory .
They finally came to a broad, flat clearing carved into the hill. It was bordered on her left by a sheer rock face where a thin sheet of water slid down the wall and flowed into a gentle brook, high above the surface of the forest.
“Where does it go?” Kit asked, enthralled. It was a beautiful place; a world apart.
“Come and see.”
They walked on, and a bit farther, Kit could see where the burn traced a downward course until it too, became a waterfall. “It's beautiful,” she breathed. It was bright and sunny in the high clearing where they stood, with rich green moss and clumps of pink sundew growing in tufts of soil that seemed to have been left accidentally in the clefts of the rocks.
They were high enough to be able to see beyond the trees. Wolf stood behind Kit, put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face north.
“Windermere Castle,” he said.
In the distance, Kit could trace the narrow track they'd traveled as it turned into a more reputable thoroughfare, moving through the valley closer to the town and the castle. Surrounded by fertile, well-tilled fields, the pretty town huddled below the castle walls. The dark gray fortress itself stood on elevated ground with a tall, thick stone wall surrounding it. Three towers were visible in the distance, and a flag flew from a staff on the highest of the three towers.
It was a breathtaking view of Windermere.
“My mother called this place âthe earl's nook',” Wolf said.
Kit leaned back into him, and he slid his arms around her. There was a wistful tone to his voice, and she knew he was remembering his last days with his family.
“My brothers and I...sometimes we came here with my father...” His voice was quiet, and they listened to the gentle sound of the water meandering past at their feet. “The last time I was here...well, this is the route we took when we left for Bremen that last time. My father and John ard I climbed here for a last look at Windermere before we left. This is the first time I've been back since I was a child.”
She felt the steady thud of his heart through her back.
“Kathryn.” His breath was warm at the top of her head. “My cousin Philip...as long as he's at large, I'll worry. You must have a care. Always keep an escort with you.”
Kit was pleased to think he'd worry about her, but didn't want to be a burden to him. “Do you really think he'd cause me any harm?”
“There's no question,” he said, turning her in his arms. She looked up and saw fierce determination in his eyes. “Philip isn't to be trusted. Do you understand? I'll not risk your safety.”
“But Wolf, I've managed so far to take care of myselfâ”
“You don't understand, Kit. You don't know him as I do.”
She saw that he meant to have his way in this. “All right, then,” Kit said. “Tell me what you want me to do.”
He was relieved. He knew that John Beauchamp had been right when he'd said Philip was
twisted.
Wolf remembered enough incidents as a child when Philip had proven it.
Wolf led Kit to a cool ledge cut into the rock wall and sat down with her. He picked up one of her hands and kissed her knuckle. “First of all, don't ever underestimate Philip. He's dangerous and he's vicious, no matter what he seemed to you when you met him.”
“He seemed cold and unfeeling to me,” Kit said.
“That's the least of it.” He braced his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, turning to look at her. “I don't know where he's hiding, though perhaps Hugh has found him by now. If not, I want you to be on your guard. One of the men will go with you whenever you leave the castle. Don't go riding alone, or into Windermere town by yourself. Let someone know where you'll be if you're going to an unlikely place in theâ”
“But Wolf,” she protested a bit hesitantly, panicked at the thought that he would leave her at Windermere and go on to some other place without her, “where will
you
be?”
“Me?” He smiled and her heart nearly melted.
“Yes,” she said, a little breathlessly. “I have no wish to remain at Windermere if you are not...that is, if youâ”
“Kathryn,” he took her hand again and looked into her worried eyes, “do you think I could ever leave you again?”
“Again?”
“I left you once in London...”
“Yes, you did,” she whispered, remembering her desolation at Westminster, wishing he would come back, realizing that Rupert was not the man she wanted. Knowing the man who was...
Wolf wrapped one of her curls around his forefinger, then pulled it down gently, straightening it. She was so unpredictable, so impertinent: so different from everything he'd always thought he wanted and needed. He dropped an arm to her waist and pulled her close. He kissed her forehead and breathed in the fresh, flowery scent of her hair.
“Your hair... you never left it uncovered before we came to London.”
“I was afraid,” she said simply. His chin rested on the top of her head. “I thought you'd recognize me from that night at Somerton Lake. And at Kendal...well, at Kendal, when it was just
me,
you made it quite clear you didnâtâ”
“Kitâit was only that I couldn't claim you for my own,” Wolf said.
“But I thoughtâ”
“It wasn't true,” he said, “whatever you thought...it was... well, it was not easy for me to turn you over to Rupert Aires in London. I thought it best to make you angry. To stay away from you...to keep some perspectiveâ” Kit stood abruptly and folded her arms around herself. Her mind cautioned her to be wary, yet her heart yearned for what he said to be true. She wanted to believe he'd put distance between them only because he knew it would prove difficult giving her up to Rupert.
But what about
Annamarie?
She wondered if Wolf's past hesitancy was due to some tender feelings or loyalty towards his former betrothed.
Kit watched the water as it dropped from the cliff's edge to blend with the shining waters of the brook, and wondered whether to tell him of her despair at Westminster; despair that she would never see him again, that her life would be forever empty without him.
“I missed you terribly,” she finally said in a small voice. She felt him standing right behind her; his warm body close by, his breath near her ear.
“I had no idea...” How he'd hated having to abandon her. All those weeks she'd spent in London, alone, with only the shrews at court for company. “I thought you and Rupertâ”
“Rupert was my mistake,” Kit said, turning to look at Wolf. “I quickly realized he was...he was not quite what my imagination had made him out to be over the years we were apart.”
“Kit, what are you saying? ...You don't regret giving Rupert up?”
She shook her head. “And I told him as much,” Kit said with a wistful smile, “though I think I rather insulted him.”
She walked over to the stream and crouched down to draw some water up in her hand, letting it spill back into the burn. “I daresay I was somewhat distraught that morning when I told him. I'd met the Earl of Langston the night before, and found out about my mother, my birth...and I happened to run across Rupert in the garden. I couldn't bear to tell him about Meghan and Henry...so I told him about my betrothal to youâor rather, the Duke of Carlisle.”
The sunlight was fading, and Kit looked out at Windermere Castle as her shadow lengthened out beside her. She had no idea what her revelation meant to Wolfâthat her tears that morning hadn't been because she was fated to wed him.
“I told him I'd always thought he and I would marry,” Kit said. “Of course, he was quite appalled by the thought, until I told him he would make a very poor husband.”
“That's true enough,” Wolf said, putting a hand under her elbow to raise her up, away from the water. “But what about me?” His voice was soft, seductive. “What kind of husband do you suppose I'll make you?”
Kit searched his eyes and wished for an easy answer. She didn't know how a powerful knight like Wolf would react if she spoke the truth, that she found him warm and tender, gentle and considerate with a new and uncertain wife, a wife who knew she was not his first choice.
She reached for the small leather pouch in her belt which she'd worn all the way from Westminster. She'd kept it close, intending to bring it out when the moment was right.
“I had this made for you in London,” she said, handing it to him, hoping he would understand her answer to his question.
Wolf took the soft brown pouch and loosened the drawstring, then drew out a small wooden casket. He looked inside and took out the gold ring that Kit hoped would become the signet of the Duke of Carlisle. Framed together within the circle of the signet were the head of a wolf and a rose, neatly engraved on its chest. A modest-sized ruby was on each side of the band, below the circle. When he finally looked up at Kit, comprehension was clear in Wolf's eyes.
“Kit...”
She leaned up and touched his lips with her own, silencing him with a searing kiss, opening her mouth, inviting him, inciting him to respond with a fierceness that made her breathless. His arms encircled her and pulled her tight against him, and there was no mistaking his desire, his need.
Â
Before they started their descent from the earl's nook, Wolf caught a glimpse of men in the distance on horseback, riding south from Windermere. There seemed to be six or so, and they rode with an urgency that raised clouds of dust on the trail behind them.
“Who do you think it is?” Kit asked, following his gaze into the dale below.
Wolf's eyes narrowed as he shook his head. “Can't be certain from this distance, though it looks like Nicholas in the lead.”
Kit believed he was right. She thought she could identify his head of light blond hair and the white horseâNicholas' usual mount. But the situation being what it was at Windermere, Wolf was right to be cautious.
“What do you think is amiss?” she asked worriedly. “Their hasteâ”
“Perhaps they've found Philip and are merely anxious to inform me,” Wolf replied. “Then all our apprehensions would be resolved.”
Kit doubted it, but appreciated Wolf's attempt to reassure her. They climbed down the trail in the hill and made their way back through the thick woods to get to the place where Wolf had tethered Janus.
“Come. We'll move up here so I can get a better look at them,” he said, moving the big horse back up into the woods to conceal him. Kit walked alongside Wolf, until they reached the higher ground and a good vantage point within the trees.
“Our escort will meet whoever approachesâ”
“Escort?”
He smiled down at her and nodded. “We've a dozen good men guarding our backs. They'll meet the riders if we don't intercept them first.”
Twelve men? Following them? Kit blushed, remembering their leisurely ride to the earl's nook, with her husband nuzzling her and pleasantly tantalizing her with gentle fingers. She was mortified to think that twelve men had been close byâperhaps even within sight of themâwhen they were on the cliff near the dual waterfalls.