Wooing Kate

Chapter Ten

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One lesson that Alain Adhemar had learned well in his formative years was that, in order to get anywhere in life, one had to take chances. He'd grown quite willing over the years to take chances on things that were of importance to him. Lady Jocelyn, for example. It had seemed important to win her for a wife. She was everything his family insisted he have in a wife: beautiful with a large dowry. So, he'd done everything in his power to sway her and dispose of his rival for her affections.

Sometimes the chances one took could backfire and the last chance he'd taken with the lady had backfired most spectacularly on him, resulting in his fall from consideration as a suitor. It happened. He moved on. As irritating as his failure had been, there was no point in keeping after her, as Thatcher had been the victor. Although, it would be entertaining to toy with the two of them now and then.

One must learn from mistakes and step forward to a new venue.

He'd taken many chances in his life, paths sometimes hailed as foolish and distressing by his family, like his decision to remain a soldier after inheriting the title. In his opinion, he did both well and who was going to argue?

Taking chances. He was taking a chance on Kate. Her fiery spirit was admirable really. He hadn't the acquaintance of many women who'd dare to keep defying him as she did. Then again, he must remember that she wasn't like any other women he'd known. What made her so different wasn't something he could simply put a finger on. There was that defiance, yes, and her independence, yet he'd occasionally met other women like that who'd not bewitched him as she.

Bewitch was the proper word for it. He found himself unable to keep from watching her, her slightest movement fascinating. In only a couple days, she'd managed to disrupt his daily life to a great extent. He would stand behind her, perusing her, attempting to reason her out, this unusual peasant woman who obviously wanted him yet held herself back. Why did she hold back? Time and again, he could come to no conclusion but that he had to study her more.

Did she remember anything of their romp amid the sheets? Her expression whenever he brought up the most delightful aspects of those hours indicated she was lacking those memories. Had she truly imbibed so much as to haze her memories? Did she not remember confessing to him her longings to once more feel the delicious sort of passion her husband had inspired? It was becoming clearer as the hours passed that she did indeed recall little of their time together that night.

The best way he could think of to make her remember was to bring about similar circumstances. He wanted her with a fervency that was a constant fire beneath his skin, but he didn't want her unwilling. No. He wanted more of the ardor she'd shown. The plan was to woo her, to slowly tempt and tease until she gave freely of herself. A woman's surrender, given generously, was far more beautiful than lukewarm compliance.

And so, when Kate tilted her head the tiniest fraction, a dreamy expression in her eyes and a flicker of longing on her pretty face, Adhemar took a chance and kissed her.

Her response took him by surprise in a wonderful way. His expectation was that she'd pull away as though burned by his touch, give an outraged gasp and smack her hand roundly upon his cheek. He'd braced himself for the probability.

That, however, was not what occurred.

Her lips parted beneath his, accepting the kiss in such an agreeable manner that he could not help the surge of satisfaction flooding his veins as a warm rush. She opened herself to him, her hands slipping up and into his hair. He could not pull away, held firm to her. Not that he minded in the slightest.

Adhemar hooked his arm beneath her knees, hauling her slight weight onto his lap, as he'd previously mentioned. The effort was not such that he had to pause in the kiss that was turning into a string of wild, abandoned kisses. So heartening was this response from her, that he began figuring in his head just how many steps he'd have to take to carry her across the clearing and through the tent to his bed.

Anticipation curled lovingly about his limbs, his fingers finding the hem of her dress and sliding beneath it, caressing upward along the bare flesh of her leg. He squeezed her knee.

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Kate knew perfectly well that she shouldn't play with fire. So what was she doing? Giving in to the impulse to kiss him back, to see if those hot promises in his eyes were merely promises or if he could back them up with action.

Her fingers buried in his thick hair, she came to the sudden realization that this man was dangerous. Well, she'd known he was dangerous in a rather general sense, but this danger she recognized was a personal danger to herself. As much as Kate would like to deny the attraction she felt for him, it was impossible to keep doing so. She had to get away from him. The sooner the better, starting now.

Her fingers clenched, yanked his head back from hers. Their lips parted with a faint whoosh of breath. "Let go of me!" she gasped, staring into eyes that held a slight dazed and out of focus expression. That expression cleared, replaced by...what? Kate couldn't decipher the look in his eyes now. Impatience, regret and...longing perhaps?

Adhemar removed his hands from her, spread his arms wide. Her dress remained bunched at her knees. "It would appear that you are the one holding on to me."

Kate scrambled from his lap, losing her balance and falling onto her back on the ground. She looked up at him, her heart pounding. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was supposed to keep calm at all times. She wasn't supposed to find herself flustered and tripping over her own feet, gaping up at him, yet again, from a semi-supine position.

He leaned forward, forearms on his knees, clasping his fingers loosely together. The familiar satisfied smirk appeared.

"I was lost in memories," she blurted out. "You took advantage of that!"

He nodded as if in agreement. "Of course I did. Keep telling yourself that. Eventually you'll believe it."

"It's true." She pushed herself up and to her feet, ignoring the hand he stretched out to aid her. "I think I've had enough chatting. I'm tired." It had been made clear to her that she was to sleep in his tent, her bag placed there along with his things. There was no avoiding it and all Kate wanted right now was time alone. She crossed her arms.

A long stare was directed her way and slowly, he gave a nod. "You may retire I suppose."

She may retire? "I don't need your permission."

"Then why," He stood, coming to her and tilting her chin up with his forefinger, "did you say anything? You could have walked away with a simple 'good night'." His glance turned to the tent doorway and back to her. "Or was that an invitation to join you?"

Kate slapped his hand away. "It most certainly was not an invitation!" His mocking laughter followed her into the tent. Thankfully, Adhemar didn't follow her and Kate set about making a bed for herself on the ground. Men were stationed around the perimeter of the tent, a guard against her escape she was sure.

Hell. Kate let out a soft curse. She was beginning to see Adhemar as a very desireable man and for that very reason, Kate had to find a way to escape him.

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Jocelyn had never in her life been alone as she was now. Always, there'd been someone with her, whether it was family or servant. For years, Christiana had been her constant companion, so she was used to having someone there to share her thoughts and feelings with.

She moved restlessly about the chamber she'd taken at the inn. A great feeling of loneliness was closing over her and had been closing since they'd realized Christiana was gone. Their group was shrinking. Their group. A tiny smile played about the corners of her lips. She'd begun to think of them all as friends, something that would horrify many of her acquaintances back home. That she'd become friends with peasants would be shocking, but really, Jocelyn didn't see any difference between peasants and nobles except titles and money.

They were all people, though she did know of some nobles who considered peasants a sort of animal. It was ridiculous, in her opinion. Men were men. All were created by God and considered equal in God's eyes. It was men who created titles and class distinction.

She sighed, tossing aside the scarf she'd been bunching in her fingers and watching it flutter to the floor. Friends were friends, regardless of if they were noble or not and she was feeling lost without the large group. Kate, Geoffrey, Roland and Christiana were gone. Only she, Wat and Will remained and Wat might as well be gone also for all the time he'd spent with them that day.

Will had been nothing but reassuring that they'd get Kate back safely. He'd asked her to help him pen several letters and she had. They wrote to the noble friends Will had made among the competitors and while it was a good effort, Jocelyn was skeptical that any of those young men would stick their necks out against Count Adhemar over a woman. Perhaps if there was land and money involved as well they'd be more inclined. Out of the bunch, Will was the only one she'd observed as having a proper knightly attitude.

She'd been right about the politics. There was no help for them there in rescuing Kate. Jocelyn had held a tiny hope that Will and Princess Joan could find political recourse, while knowing there was none. In this area she knew more than Will, having grown up in nobility, but he was noble now, by Prince Edward's decree and he had to learn for himself. Jocelyn could not teach him everything, for he'd come eventually to resent her constant correction and their love and affection for each other would wan.

In case Christiana was successful in hiring at Adhemar's home, Jocelyn had asked her father to be ready with a story of dismissing the young woman. He'd not objected, merely asking her reasons. She'd abbreviated the story and made it sound like a friend was in dire need of companionship and Christiana was the only woman capable of giving that companionship. He'd offered to procure another maid for her, but Jocelyn had declined. Christiana would be back someday, she was sure. And so, Christiana would be above suspicion were she to be hired.

Wrapping her cloak about her, Jocelyn left her room and went to Will's door, rapping her knuckles lightly upon the panel. After a moment, Will opened the door. He looked to have been sleeping, his hair tousled and eyes tired, but let her in without a word.

"I'm lonely," she said, removing her cloak and setting it over a chair. "I'd not imagined months ago that I'd enjoy so many friends only to lose them all in the space of a single day."

He came to her, drawing her against him and stroking her hair. "We'll rescue Kate soon. Then everyone will return and it'll be like no one left at all." The words were encouraging, but Jocelyn heard the doubt underneath the tone.

She turned her face up to his, shaking her head sadly. "That's a dream, Will and we both know it. We may succeed in rescuing Kate, yes, but I doubt she'll be the same woman who left here. Christiana and Roland will never reconcile. She was too angry with him and..."

His fingers on her lips stopped her. Will closed his eyes for a brief moment, then took a long slow breath. Jocelyn waited, for it was clear he was gathering his thoughts and needed an uninterrupted second. "I have faith that Kate is healthy and well at this second. We'll try Adhemar first, but Jocelyn, we don't know he's found her. Not for certain. We're all assuming he has, but it's quite possible Kate has managed to slip away from him as she intended." He pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. "We cannot go off fearing the worst, or the worst will likely happen."

Jocelyn nodded, but her fear and loneliness stayed with her well into the night.

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I am forever waking up to nasty shocks, Kate thought, gingerly picking up Adhemar's wrist and flinging it away from her breast. He woke with a snort, lifting his head and staring at her crossly. She stared right back. The longer she spent in his company, the more apparent it was that he wouldn't actually physically hurt her. Intimidate, yes. Hurt, no. He might manhandle her, but his fist wouldn't strike her flesh in anger.

Sometime in the night, he'd moved her from her place on the floor and she now laid on the sumptuous bed. It was heaven beneath her back and the sheets were blissfully soft. The only thing marring her pleasure was him. He had no right to move her.

"What's your problem?" he grumbled, sitting. The covers slid from him, pooling in his lap, revealing his nicely muscled chest. One hand scratched absently at his collarbone.

"You moved me."

He blinked at her accusatory tone. "Your point?"

"I was perfectly comfortable on the floor."

Adhemar snorted, then laid back down, yanking her against him. "I wasn't."

He wasn't what? Kate pondered his answer for a few seconds, trying to ignore the feel of him molding her against his lean body. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He groaned, sighed and shoved her hair from her ear, speaking against her neck. "It means, Kate, that I wasn't comfortable sleeping on the ground when this nice, soft bed was available. Besides, you refused to relinquish enough blanket for me to be warm. Discussion over. Go back to sleep."

He'd curled up on the floor with her?

Adhemar's breath slowed again, his body relaxing and he began to snore. Not harsh sounds, but rather a gentle snorting every other breath. Why would he do that? Why would he lay beside her on the ground to begin with? It didn't make sense. Kate remained still, listening to the sounds of the camp beginning to stir, pondering that action. There was no reason for him to sleep on the ground with her to begin with. Why had he tried?

With a sigh, she eased out from under the heavy weight of his arm and left the tent. Outside, there was one man awake that she could see, cooking over the fire. Kate strode to him, glanced at the pot. They were having porridge for the morning meal and it was already scorched, she could see black specks in cereal. Smothering a grimace, Kate accepted the small portion the young man ladled into a bowl. After a single bite, Kate set her bowl aside and watched the man attempt to fix the taste. Finally, she stood and went to him. "You're Thomas, yes?"

He nodded distractedly. "Mm-hmm."

"You don't cook usually do you?" As Kate watched, she realized this was the perfect time to add the herbs she'd gathered to the food. All the men ate in the morning, so it would be guaranteed to reach every one.

A pause in his task, dark eyes meeting hers before he shook his head. "No. My first attempt."

Kate favored a crooked smile upon him. "I could help, you know. I've done a bit of cooking in my life."

He glanced about the camp. It was still early and few were stirring. He was likely weighing the chances of anyone finding out she'd helped him and the sort of kidding he'd possibly receive. "Can this be fixed?"

Kate took the spoon from him, stirred the large pot and pretended to think. "With some herbs the scorched taste could be masked."

"Herbs?"

"Mm-hmm. I think I still have some dried cooking herbs in my bag. Let me look." Kate, her heart pounding hard in her chest, hurried to remove the herbs from her bag before Adhemar woke and saw her. She was successful.

Thomas was not suspicious. In fact, he readily helped her stir the herb into the porridge, along with other seasonings. However, he didn't like the taste. "Perhaps if we added bits of meat?" He suggested.

The man warmed to the concoction, adding the meat that he'd roasted on the fire until the porridge was more like a stew than porridge. The meat did the trick. He ate a bowl, praising Kate's quick thinking. "You are wondrous. Thank you. My lord will be pleased with this."

Kate smiled sweetly and tried not to think how beautiful escaping Adhemar was going to be. She didn't want to jinx her chances.