Wooing Kate

Chapter Eleven

~~~~~~~~~~

Calm descended over Kate, a blessed welcome calm that wrapped her up like a warm blanket. Escape was within her grasp and suddenly she became the goddess of calm. Her mind was clear in a detached sort of way. It won't be long now, she thought. A couple hours at most and then I'll be free of him. Adhemar came from the tent, tossing off an order that it be dismantled as he walked into the woods. In minutes he returned, coming to the fire and taking the bowl Thomas offered him.

Kate took a moment to study him. With luck, this would be the last chance she'd really have to look at him. She took the time to imprint this image into her brain. For some reason she was uncertain of, she needed to remember him right as he was. His hair was combed and he looked to have made an effort at shaving. The sunlight filtering through the treetops played lovingly along his chiseled features. Black clothing adorned his tall, lean frame and he carried his coat. No white shirt today. He did look good in black and she imagined he often wore that color because of his efforts at being a soldier. A soldier would want clothes that would mean no fussing was necessary, in colors and fabrics that could hide such things as grass stains, mud and blood.

His hair curled against his neck and she recalled how soft his hair was against her fingers, the thick curls silky. Her tongue slipped out, wetting her lips, her eyes narrowing. She didn't need to be thinking about that, not now. This, right here and now, was only to put him in memory. She could think all she liked about the silky texture of his hair when she was safely miles from him. Kate turned her thoughts to where she'd woken. His bed was undeniably the most luxurious place she'd rested her weary body in a long while, but why on earth had he moved her from the ground?

It was out of character for what she knew of him, though she had to concede that she really knew little of him save the things she'd heard whispered. Then of course, there were those things she'd learned as he'd gone up against Will for the hand of fairest Jocelyn. Kate had not thought him the sort to bother making a peasant woman comfortable. He had though. He'd lifted her from the bed she'd made for herself on the ground and brought her up onto his bed. Why?

"If you stare at me any harder, Kate, I swear I shall blush from the perusal." Hazel eyes glanced her way, Kate's insides warming alarmingly at the teasing gleam those orbs held. Wonderful. He was in another good mood. She decided to be on her guard quite a bit more vigilantly than she'd anticipated.

"I don't think anything could cause you to blush," she retorted.

He took one bite of the concoction she'd helped Thomas create, chewed, swallowed, then set the bowl aside. "How little you know me, Kate."

"How little I care." She crossed her arms, nodding at the bowl. "You should eat, if your plan is to spend the day traveling with few stops. Like yesterday." It wouldn't do to appear too eager for him to eat. No, that would only serve to make him suspicious and Kate certainly didn't want him delving too closely into what had been put in the porridge to flavor it.

He shook his head with a grimace that rivaled some of Wat's best grimaces. "Tastes burned. Let the men have it all. I'll eat bread."

Panic came quickly, breaking the calm that encased her. He had to eat more than that. He hadn't even taken a big enough bite to do more than make him slightly uncomfortable. Kate picked up the discarded bowl, stirred the contents. "Burned? Mine didn't taste burned. It tasted quite well."

"You eat it then, if your appetite is...vigorous." Adhemar leaned back on his hands, head turned a bit, watching her with an enigmatic turn to his lips.

Dear God, did he suspect something? Had he seen her take the herbs from her bag and guessed? Her heart thudded heavily, her pulse a hard pounding in her temples. The bowl she held trembled in her hand and she set it back down. "No, I've had my fill already. Couldn't eat another bite."

He leaned towards her, staring at her so long that she began to wonder if she'd developed green spots all over her face or something of the sort. Calm, be calm, she thought, desperation beginning to chew at her. He doesn't know anything. He was asleep remember? There is no way this man knows --

Her chin was caught between his forefinger and thumb, face tilted up. "What are you up to, Kate?"

Silence for a moment. The camp had come alive, men's voices filling the air. "Nothing," she whispered, forcing herself to keep meeting his eyes.

Adhemar lifted his free hand, pushed her hair from her face with a gentle touch. "Could your heart possibly be softening towards me?"

No sound would come from her lips, though Kate sputtered to speak. No. No softening at all, thank you very much, she thought. Arrogant man.

"That long, passionate stare, the concern for my welfare if I do not eat. Oh Kate, you should admit it now. My tent is still raised." His free hand indicated that place. "We could indulge ourselves..."

Kate stood. "Not likely. And you can starve for all I care."

Adhemar laughed, a long chuckle at her expense, then also stood and moved to the nearest group of his men. She watched them, waiting for some sign of gastric distress from the men who'd already eaten. The mood of the camp was one of leisure this day, as though there was nothing pressing them at any specific pace. Fine. It'd make it easier to leave if they were all in one place. The man made the rounds of his men, talking to them, laughing with them. That silence she'd observed had been broken and it took her a moment to realize why.

Half of the men were gone. Only the rough and tough remained of what had been a sizeable traveling household. Looking closer, she identified the crests of several houses represented, mulling over what that meant. Adhemar had sent the others...where? Had they gone on ahead or slipped back along the road towards London? Why did these men remain?

He returned to her, tilting his head and raising his brows in mute question. When she said nothing, Adhemar spoke. "Something bothering you, Kate?"

"Why do you care?"

"It's not a matter of caring, woman. Pure curiosity. You seem rather, how shall I put this, confused at the moment. Naturally, I want to dispel any confusion."

She turned all the way around in place, taking in the camp at large. "Where did the rest of them go?"

A smirk, very near an oily grin, pulled at his lips. "Away."

"Away?" He didn't clarify and Kate's heart pounded hard once more in her breast. This was becoming tedious, this constant up and down of her nerves. Was he doing it deliberately? Kate rather thought he was doing it to vex her, the despicable, horrible, arrogant, devious type of man he was. "Back to London?"

"No, no. Not London."

"Well then where?"

That master of the manor expression returned to his face. "Surely you didn't think that with your delectable person firmly in my grasp, that I'd forgotten the disobedient Germaine? Really Kate, be sensible. He must be found and dealt with. I'll not have other men thinking they can just take off on their own like that. It wouldn't do."

There came a shout from across the camp. "My lord!"

Kate had visions of Germaine being hunted down like wild game, beaten and dragged back to this man for punishment. Just what would he consider just? Would he even think justly? A swell of pity hit her for poor Germaine, but then her mind decided to comment. Poor Germaine? Poor? That herald left you for Adhemar. He up and left you, not bothering to wake you. He deserves to be caught.

Adhemar was instantly alert, his hand snaking out to grasp Kate's arm in a firm grip even as he turned his full attention to the man coming towards him. She noticed Adhemar's free hand rubbing at his stomach. The man coming towards them was pale, as in sickly pale, sweat dampening his brow.

"My lord, the men are coming down ill. It's all of us." He half bent, clutching at his stomach and moaning.

Kate had never seen men become so ill so quickly before. In minutes, those who'd eaten were in agony and she was furiously thinking. This was not what was supposed to happen. The men weren't supposed to be in pain like this. The herb was supposed to cleanse the bowels, not....She winced at the sounds of several men retching in the bushes. She couldn't have been wrong about the herb. No.

Horror caused her to gasp, her mouth opening and eyes widening. Oh no. She had picked the wrong herb. The gasp alerted Adhemar and he whirled her in front of him, taking her face in both his hands. "What do you know of this? You'd better tell me, Kate." His grip was tight, fingers digging into her flesh. "Now. What is wrong with my men?"

Now, she thought. Do it now. Her hands grabbed the knife from his belt, brought the blade up by his face. She didn't intend to slice his face, but he didn't know that. Adhemar released her, stepping back at the glint of metal. The surprise on his features was comical and she could see his gaze already assessing her as an opponent. Not much of one, he'd be thinking. "I just want to leave," she whispered. "They'll be fine soon." That wasn't certain though. She'd no idea how long it took for the herb to be purged from the system.

He lunged for her. Kate whirled, dropping to a crouch and scooping up a rock with her free hand. Turning back, she lobbed it at him, stunned when it actually hit his brow. He staggered, fingers going to the spot, touching the blood that trickled from the cut it had made. "Kate." His voice went guttural, his expression changing once more. This was a man fast losing his temper.

With a yelp, Kate fled the camp, Adhemar directly behind her. She crashed through underbrush, making a path where there was none, moving away from the road. This escape could have gone a bit better, the critical voice inside her drawled. She could barely hear Adhemar screaming her name above the rush of blood pounding in her ears. Twice she fell, scraping one hand on a partially buried branch and nearly losing the knife. Dimly, Kate became aware that she was crying.

She fell into a clearing, literally, her feet going out from under her. Adhemar was close and she could imagine him cool in his rage at her, like she'd seen him at tournament. When she tried to rise, her legs threatened to not hold her weight. No, please no. Get up and move! She stumbled up and forward just as he too came into the clearing. He charged at her, heedless of the knife she swung at him.

The only sound between them were their hoarse breathes and grunts of exertion. Sweat poured down Kate's face and slickened her palms. The knife grip grew slippery with the sweat. Adhemar's hands reached for her arms and she gave a choking gasp as the knife connected with his flesh and slipped from her grasp. He snatched that hand back, glancing at the cut across his forearm. An animalistic growl came from low in his throat. Blood dripped to the ground.

Kate threw herself back from him, finding her back up against a tree and him still advancing. Frantically, she groped along the tree side, her hand closing around a fallen branch. With a yell, she swung it. Adhemar threw an arm up, but the branch still caught him hard. He staggered and Kate swung again. This time, the branch was blocked by his left hand. A pained noise left his lips, the branch ripped from Kate's grasp, leaving a large splinter in her palm.

He dropped to the ground and she yanked the splinter free, pressing her hand to her skirt. She had no time to look at it now. It'd have to be later. Kate took two steps, freedom in sight.

She would have escaped, too, had he not grabbed her ankle just then in a grip so tight she'd have to lop off his hand at the wrist to remove it. Kate gave a scream of frustration, shaking her leg in a futile effort to make him let go. She hopped unsteadily on one foot, frantically trying to think of a way to get free.

Nothing was coming to mind.

She'd exhausted every option. Her tears were sloppy things, streaming down her face and blurring her vision. She desperately wanted to be away from this man, however, she was thwarted at every turn.

He lifted his head, a cold, livid gleam in his eyes. That gleam frightened her. He was done being generous, it seemed to say. His detachment was gone and Kate faced the real Adhemar, passionate and unrestrained in his ire.

"No, no, let go!"

Blood dripped down his face from the still bleeding wound on his brow, his lip curling in a snarl. "Bitch," he growled, his injured left hand shooting forward and, despite the broken finger, grabbing her right ankle. He pulled.

Kate landed hard on her rear and back, the wind knocked from her. She wheezed, struggling to bring in a breath, Adhemar subduing her. This is becoming a regular occurrence, she thought grimly. Blood dripped off him onto her and she kept her defiant gaze firmly on his angry one.

"You, woman, are trouble, more trouble than any woman is worth."

"Let me go," she said slowly and clearly.

"Like hell," he yelled, turning and spitting blood and saliva to the side.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to."

"Why not?" She'd done everything she could to hurt him and escape this day. She'd drugged the camp, thrown a rock at his head, used his own dagger to slice at him, broken one of his fingers and hit him with a thick branch. She'd done all that and still he refused to release her.

For a moment, Kate actually thought he might tell her.

However, that passed, his hands gripping her wrists, dragging her to her feet with him. He staggered and Kate staggered with him. If he fell, there was no way she could keep from falling as well. She gasped in breath, waiting for that moment when he lost his balance and his heavy weight would bear her to the ground.

Adhemar blinked rapidly, transferred both her wrists to one hand, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. The blood from his wound smeared, a red streak on his brow. They returned to camp, Kate trembling and slightly weak from the passing of her burst of energy to escape.

It was over. There was no escape.

~~~~~~~~~~

If she'd not loosed that horrified gasp, Adhemar reflected through a head that felt ten times larger than normal, he'd not have realized she'd anything to do with the illness. The glimpse of panic on her face as he'd swung her before him had brought that knowledge home. She'd drugged his men. Poisoned them somehow. The sheer audacity of that shocked him and very little could shock him any more. Kate had managed what few people ever did in life. She'd caught him by surprise with a deviousness worthy of himself.

He was mad, furious really. And yet, there was a definite grudging admiration for her spirit. Injuries dotted his body from pursuit of her. A cut here. A scratch there. He was going to have a large bump on his brow from that rock and his finger was so painful that it was numbing. But she'd fought for her freedom. This young woman had risked his wrath twice now for what she wanted and he couldn't help but respect her courage. Many men wouldn't do that. She had.

There was a delicious satisfaction in seeing her hands tremble as she cleaned each cut and splintered the broken finger. He kept a tight reign on his expression through it all, gritting his teeth and letting no grimace of pain escape to be seen. Every time Kate looked up at him, her healthy complexion blanched. She'd gulp, as though her throat didn't want to let her swallow and he imagined she was wondering if he'd hit her. Her fear of him was so thick as to nearly be tangible. Good. Let her fear.

Turning his head away from her, he called out, "Fitz!" When that man had arrived, Adhemar looked him up and down, raking his gaze over him. "Were my orders misunderstood?"

"My lord?" Nervous eyes returned his stare. the young man was wary, and with good reason. Count Adhemar's temper was legendary.

"I gave express orders that this woman was to be guarded at all times when I am not with her. What part of that order was unclear?" Jerking his arm from Kate's grasp, he stood, advancing on the increasingly nervous man. "Your answer, if you please, Fitz. You know I dislike being kept waiting."

"Thomas was watching her, my lord. She was sitting near him as he cooked."

Adhemar nodded. "I see." He turned his regard to Kate. She still crouched by where he'd been sitting, her arms crossed. "And did you see this woman do anything suspicious?"

"Um...she returned to your tent and came back with some herbs, which she sprinkled into the porridge. Then she and Thomas added some meat..."

He put a hand on the man's shoulder, still nodding. "Did it not occur to you that she shouldn't be helping with the cooking, Fitz?"

Panic and dismay slipped onto those features. "Women cook, my lord. I thought she was giving Thomas help. He's not very good at that sort of thing."

"A poor argument for shirking duties, don't you think? You saw her and...what? Finish the sentence for me, Fitz. What should you have done?"

Adhemar could practically see the wheels frantically spinning in the man's head. "I should have alerted all to not touch the porridge and come to you about it?"

"Very good, Fitz. Very good." He gave him a small smile, patting Fitz' cheek for a few seconds before drawing that hand back and snapping a punch forward. Fitz fell back, clutching at his face and moaning slightly. "Remember that lesson."

"Yes, my lord," he mumbled.

"Dismissed." Adhemar returned to his seat, twitched his shirtsleeve back up and presented his arm to Kate. She was staring at Fitz as he retreated. A twinge of annoyance rolled along Adhemar's shoulders and he cleared his throat. Slowly, she looked at him, then at his arm. Her hands still trembled as she followed the surgeon's directions and Adhemar made quick mental plans.

No more leisured travel. Home.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kate was hauled up behind him on the horse, her arms placed about Adhemar's waist. The two men who'd lifted her up there gave her decidedly unfriendly glares, not that she could blame them. They both still had a slight greenish tinge to their skin. Kate gulped, turning her face into Adhemar's broad back and unresisting when he placed her hands together just above his belt.

He'd said nothing to her since ordering her to tend those wounds she'd given him. She'd conceded as gracefully as she could under the circumstances, following the directions the surgeon hissed at her. Unfortunately, that one had been hit the hardest by the herb and he'd let out a string of mumbled curses that rivaled anything Wat had ever put together. He'd not be forgiving her any time soon, that was certain.

They began to ride, leaving the camp behind. The two of them would ride hard to reach his lands and the rest of his men would come at a much slower pace. Had she erred in her actions? Kate wasn't so certain now that she'd done the right thing. The idea had seemed quite good when she was anticipating being away from camp before the sickness really began, but she'd not had the chance to slip away so easily. She'd had to watch as men who'd been courteous to her grew ill and poor Thomas connected that it was she who'd made them sick. He'd assumed he'd bear the brunt of Adhemar's anger, but it was not he who'd been punished. No, Adhemar had punished the lead guard for that watch. It was a mystery to her why he'd not punished them both. Why just Fitz?

She was numb now, sorry she'd given it to the entire camp. I should have just given it to Adhemar, that voice in her mind remarked. Kate turned her head, resting her other cheek against his back. It was done and she couldn't take it back, so she needed to deal with being most firmly caught by this man. She wasn't going to escape him and that seemed depressingly final.

By nightfall, Kate was ready to stop, but they pressed on until it seemed to her that they'd been riding for days. He barely allowed time to rest and eat, the only words he spoke to her curt and cutting. Finally, he stopped, lifting her down and steadying her when her legs threatened to give way.

"My home is five miles east. There will be no mention of how I came to be injured, is that clear?" When she only stared up at him, he stepped close, pressing her back until she was sandwiched between the horse and him and had to crane her neck back to look up at him. "Answer me. I know you've a tongue in your head. You've loosed it often enough."

She blinked, licked her lips in a deliberately slow manner. "I understand."

"You will be courteous to my mother and give her the respect her station demands. No impertinence. She's been ill quite a bit lately and I'll not have you upsetting her. Am I being clear enough for you, Kate? Are you understanding what I'm saying?"

"Am I a simpleton, Count?"

He rolled his eyes, stared down at her with a tilted head. "Are you?" He looked her over with an insultingly appraising stare. "You do act it on occasion."

Anger at the remark simmered in her, but Kate could not say the words she longed to. Instead, she answered his first question. "Perfectly clear."

"Good. And one last thing. Don't appeal to any for help. There is none here for you."

And then they were on their way once more and Kate tried to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.