Wooing Kate
Chapter Eighteen



~~~~~~~~~~

It was an errand of mercy Kate decided upon, watching the whipping of Helene from the windows of the master's chambers. She could understand the need for punishment for such a serious offense. Without punishment for crimes, there would be chaos, more and more crimes committed. Leniency had no place here if the master of the household wished to keep control over those who served him.

However, the man wielding the whip was extremely energetic in his duty. One might say he was being gleeful there. Alain was not watching. He had turned his face away and was staring at the storm that was coming towards the manor.

Helene began to scream and Kate turned away, unwilling to watch that lash fall on the woman's back one more time. As much as she disliked Helene, she couldn't let her remain in agony if there was a way to help. Even the most wretched needed care at times and Helene would need someone to tend her back until it healed. It wasn't likely anyone else would step forward for the task.

The woman was universally disliked, mostly for her attitude towards others. The rest of the household, save Isobelle -- who had never mentioned one bad word about Helene -- poked fun at her behind her back. Even Alain had done so on occasion, making comment about moon-eyes females and blinding devotion.

Going into the hall, Kate made her way to Helene's chamber and threw the door open wide. Hurriedly, she turned down the bed sheets and filled a basin with water. Clean linens were fetched and she was setting both basin and linens on a small table near the bed when Christiana peered into the room.

"There you are, Kate," she said, bringing a small pouch and bowl to the table. "You've the same idea as I."

"You should stay with Lady Isobelle. I won't need help here."

Christiana opened the pouch, poured a small amount of herbs into the bowl she'd brought. "I'll assist. I begged some herbs from the physician to make a poultice for the marks. What's his name, by the way?"

Kate watched the woman make the poultice, her hands efficient, as though practiced in such things. "Timothy. His name's Timothy."

"Ahh."

Helene was brought in, limp in the grasp of two men. Alain followed, stopping upon seeing Kate and Christiana there waiting. He stared at them for a long moment, gaze hard and cool.

"What are you doing here, the both of you?"

"Isn't it obvious," Kate said, motioning to the table.

He took note of the things there, shrugged as though unconcerned. "Let someone else do it. You're no nursemaid. "

"There is no one willing." The first linen was placed in the slightly warmed water, then wrung out. Kate glanced at Helene's back. Blood streaked the pale skin. "It won't take long." She began her task, carefully washing the blood from the wounds, wincing at one particularly deep lash mark. "Your man performed his duty admirably, Alain. She'll be scarred well for life. Somehow, I doubt she'll forget her crime."

He came to the bedside. "Helene tried to murder my mother. I'll not let her forget that ever. As soon as she recovers, she'll be sent back to her father. What happens to her after that is not my concern."

Kate glanced up at him. She had yet managed to catch him looking at Helene since he'd ordered her whipped. Was he trying to keep from seeing what had been done? Was he dismissing the woman from his mind? The latter, Kate suspected. With her actions, Helene had become dead to him. She no longer existed for him on a personal level. Now, she was just a body that was bothersome. Will I, one day, be dismissed so quickly?

He went on, and her suspicions were confirmed. "Once you're done, have another take over changing the bandages and the like. Your duties and interests should not lie with this inconsequential female. I'd rather you sit with my mother. She means far more to me." Turning on his heel, he left, the two men following him.

Christiana took the stained cloth from Kate's hand and handed her a fresh one. "Harsh man."

"He has to be." Her regard moved from the wounds on Helen's back to Christiana's face. "He does little without a reason, I've found. Sometimes those reasons are wholly selfish, but whim does not govern him. He followed me for a reason. He is letting me practice my trade for a reason."

"He placed you in those chambers for a reason."

Kate sighed in mild exasperation. Christiana seemed to have decided that Count Adhemar's plans for Kate were greater than making her his mistress. "I doubt I mean any more to him than an entrancing bedmate, Christiana. Please don't read more into what's there."

Helene began to stir, making moans of pain in the back of her throat. Her head lifted on the pillow, turned towards them. Slowly, her eyes opened. Focusing seemed to take an effort and Helene blinked confusedly. "Kate?"

"Shh." She flipped the un-bloodied end of the cloth up and wiped it along Helene's face. "Be still. We've cleaned most of the marks, but they still need --"

"Get from me, witch!" Helene hissed, struggling to slide from Kate's touch.

Witch? There was that word again. Kate blinked, drawing back her hand. "Helene --"

"I'll not tolerate the touch of a witch upon my skin. You've enchanted them all and I'll not number among them."

Within her gaze was something more than a fever and Kate set the cloth upon the table. Without looking at Christiana, she stepped from the bed. "Very well. I was willing to tend you when no one else would, Helene. You can sit here and let your wounds fester for all I care." She left the chamber.

Christiana didn't follow and she assumed the woman had taken over where she left off. Kate began to walk, furious energy adding haste to her steps. Did Helene even know what hysteria the word 'witch' could cause? Probably. She was likely counting on it. By branding Kate a witch, she could find allies in the superstitious. If she gained enough support, Kate could be killed by a mob and Alain could do nothing about it.

Her steps took her to the back of the manor, past the garden and to the bit of land beyond. Kate stopped. A man was there, practicing with the sword and she recognized him as Fawkes. He paused in his labors. "Exciting, eh, Kate?" He came towards her, sheathing the sword as he did so. "Helene always gives some excitement on a dry, boring day."

Thunder rumbled in the dark clouds overhead. "Dry? We'll likely have rain before the day is through."

"Careful in predicting the weather, girl, or Helene's proclamation will seem true." There was a twinkle in his eyes and a smile upon his lips.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm no witch, Fawkes."

He chuckled. "And all know it, Kate. I'd not worry about Helene's notions."

"Has she told everyone she thinks I'm a witch, then?" She crossed her arms against the chill breeze that whipped at her skirts.

"Most." They began walking back towards the manor. "Few listen to her prattle anymore. My lord made a mistake in being gentle with that one. He gave her false ideas and did nothing to dispel them." He glanced askance at her. "Of course, it's not my place to make such a judgment."

"But you'll make it anyway and shout it out at him in practice sessions just to get his back up."

"It's an art form. It takes a delicate balance to rile him, yet not make him so angry as to get yourself disciplined. He knows I mean him no malice." He opened the door, motioned her inside the manor. "But then, you know about keeping him on edge, don't you?"

"Sorry?" Kate paused, staring up at the tall swords master.

"You heard me." Fawkes shrugged. "You play him better than Helene ever did. He knows you're toying with him and enjoys every second of it, like you enjoy his game."

Though she searched his gaze, there was nothing censorious in those green orbs. "I don't..." She trailed off. There still was a game between herself and Alain, one with new rules, so she couldn't honestly deny what Fawkes stated.

He raised a brow at her. "Don't protest too much. It only feeds speculation, my dear girl. I think it's marvelous. My lord has finally met a woman worth something more than a quick toss. Depth of character has been at an exceeding loss in his previous choices." He left her by the door, pondering his words.

~~~~~~~~~~

With her wounds cleaned and tended, Helene was left alone. A moment of clarity descended upon her and she thought on her own actions with a faint disgust. When had she become so desperate as to poison the one woman who'd been kind to her from the beginning? Lady Isobelle had never done one thing to wrong her, and yet she'd somehow reasoned killing her as a valid way to gain Alain's affections back from Kate.

Kate. She made a noise of frustration. She'd gone about it all wrong. Her plan of action had been flawed from the start. What she should have done was to befriend the woman, assure her no ill will, and then begin the campaign to be rid of her. There was no going back now.

Helene could finally admit she'd been beaten. Literally. The stripes on her back were proof that Alain's affections would never be hers again. Her only consolation was that Kate, while well liked, was not completely liked in the household. Alain's actions in both placing the woman in the best room and in granting her the blacksmith position -- plus a myriad other decisions on a daily basis -- had not endeared Kate to all. A harsh task master, Alain had seemed most lax in his discipline of Kate, and that rubbed quite a few wrong.

It was a small comfort, but one she'd have to enjoy.

She'd be leaving the household soon. Alain was sure to send her home now, instead of finding a match for her as he'd proposed. Helene didn't treasure any thoughts of home. Her father had been hopeful of gaining Adhemar influence and money to support his slackening business and since Helene had been unsuccessful in keeping Alain as her own, he was going to be rather put out with her.

Most unfortunate.

She'd have to catch another nobleman.

Helene's mind dismissed Alain Adhemar, filed Kate as unfinished business and turned to thoughts of planning her next conquest.

~~~~~~~~~~

The lady Isobelle did not recover quickly.

For over a month, she languished in her bed, the physician standing over her and Kate sitting at her bedside. In moments of waking fever, she often called Kate 'dear daughter' and gripped her hand so hard that Kate was unable to grasp her tools to work in the mornings. In the evenings, Alain would come into the chamber and sit on the floor, his back against Kate's legs as he read aloud. He refused to acknowledge that his mother might still depart for death's domain, claiming that she looked better by the day.

With Alain refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation, letters were written by the household steward at Kate's urging and sent to the Adhemar family. The family descended upon the manor en masse. Word of the family matriarch's distress spread quickly and soon the house was filled with guests. Taking the role Helene had much coveted, Kate worked with the steward to house them all.

Alain was unmoved by the appearance of his siblings and cousins, still shutting them all out of Isobelle's chamber in evenings, only Kate sitting there with him.

Noticeably absent, according to all, was the youngest, Elizabeth. No return letter had arrived and the messenger did not return.

~~~~~~~~~~

Kit's brother gave the men a merry chase. The initial confrontation had not occurred as either Will or Kit expected. The mistake, Will later realized, was in assuming that none of Kit's men were as ambitious as Kit's brother. At first, the plan had gone well. The army settled on a hilltop for the night, sheltered by trees, and a few scouts had ridden ahead to check the position of the enemy army. Their return was not a joyful one filled with tales of small numbers. No, they returned with grave countenances, describing the number of men with discouraged tones. Kit's brother had over twice their numbers.

That night, several men defected to enemy ranks.

By morning, the adversary had gone, quick marching back the way they'd come. They did not try to meet up with Kit's men and soon, the forces spent their time in a cat and mouse game that benefited neither in time or energies.

Will stepped from the tent that had been erected and strode to where Kit stood beside a table. The man was staring at a map, his expression angry.

"He's heading for home. We're going the long way about, but we're definitely going that direction. I'm certain he plans to harm Bess. Those men will have informed him of my motivations by now. Hurt Bess and he can be assured I'll act rashly, whether I plan on it or not. Seeing her broken body would set me off, Will." He swallowed hard. "I hadn't thought he would garner so much support among Adhemar's own troops."

There was little Will could say in comfort. He'd been gone from Jocelyn for weeks now and it had been five months since Kate had fled from Adhemar, time marching on quickly. He feared very much that they'd be engaged in this fight many months. "We should press on then, try to circle around them and cut them off."

"He'd only return back this way." Kit rolled the map in jerks. "I know my brother well. He'd have no qualms about engaging half his forces against us and bringing the other half back this way. We've not enough men to split in two."

Will thought for a long moment, turning his gaze to where Wat was wrestling under cheers with another man. Wat was the victor after long moments. His victory came only because his opponent lost his balance. The other man was of heavier and stockier build than Wat's own wiry form. Will crossed his arms, the glimmer of an idea forming in the back of his mind. It was building and he tried not to force it to come to fruition. Better to let the idea surface on its own. Gradually, a plan formed.

Kit was still lamenting the greater tactician that was his older brother, his tones becoming more strident as he went on, settling into over-dramatic speculations for the future.

"You say he is, without a doubt, returning home?"

"What? Yes. Home."

Will continued on. "Then I say we make him lose his balance. You and I will ride ahead for that home, circling around and taking no unnecessary time to rest. We reach there before he does. We speak to your Bess, inform her of what will occur and wait for him to come inside. While we are there, a trusted man here will lead the others into battle. Your brother will not know that you and I have gone ahead."

The desperation and despair faded from Kit's eyes and he stared at Will, a smile growing on his lips. "My friend, you have a deviousness to you that is greatly appreciated. We'll set out at once."

The course was set. And so time continues on, Will thought. God help him if they were both wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~

Roland had found, as the weeks went on, that Christiana was correct. Lady Elizabeth was a sweet woman and very lonely. She spent much time with Germaine during the day and seemed to have adopted him as her personal guard. It wasn't lost on Roland that Germaine was taken with her. He wondered just how long the herald had nursed feelings for the young noblewoman. Unfortunately, those feelings could never be revealed. First of all, she was married and secondly, if Adhemar were to find Germaine here there would be hell to pay.

He swung the axe, careful to keep his balance as he chopped firewood. Lady Elizabeth had given him the softest of tasks she could dream up, nothing that was too strenuous and he was much improved in health. She'd been interested in his skill with a needle, asking that he make some samples of his needlework for her to study. Roland did so without question. It was much on his mind that he owed the lady a great debt. She hadn't had to take him into her home and have him cared for. It would have been just as easy for her to leave him there in the road.

She'd graciously cared for them all.

Roland wondered how Christiana was faring. There had been no letter from her. The lady said to be patient and give Christiana time, but Roland was impatient. He loved Christiana with all of his heart, so how could he be patient when her welfare was at stake?

The sound of riders in the distance caught his attention and he paused in his labors, glancing about. Of the guards behind him at the entrance, only one was giving the sound any interest. Winter wind sent chills along his back and he tightened his coat, still gazing at the road. Soon, the sound grew louder and three riders appeared. They seemed to be riding as though the devil was at their backs. Urgency was in their manner. Roland began to limp towards the gate, curious to see what was going on. Lady Elizabeth had been concerned for her mother for quite some time, mentioning that the lady had been very ill. Perhaps these riders meant that very thing had happened. He was nearly to the gate, when first one, then another of the riders stopped. The third continued on through the gate.

A familiar voice called out to him. "Roland? Is that you?"

He looked up. His astonishment at seeing two friends could not have been greater. "Will? Wat? What are you two doing here?"

They dismounted, stepping to him.

Will grasped his arms with a grin. "It's good to see you again, Roland. I've worried...." He sobered, endeavoring to answer the question placed. "It's a long story and has much to do with the Lady Bess."

"Elizabeth," Roland corrected, returning the hug of greeting that Wat gave him. "Her name is Elizabeth."

"Why are you here, Roland?"

"An equally long story. Suffice it to say that I met up with Germaine and Christiana and now Christiana's gone to Adhemar's after Kate while I'm here at his sister's." Both men went quiet. "What?"

"Lady Bess is Lady Elizabeth, Adhemar's sister?" Will exchanged a glance with Wat. "We'd better catch up with Kit," he said. "I think he's left a few things out of his story."

In deference to Roland's limp, the three walked slowly towards the manor.

~~~~~~~~~~

Elizabeth was not happy to see Kit come through her door. It was bad enough to know that they could never be more than brother and sister by marriage without him bursting in whenever he pleased. Her heart could not take it and, given Vachel's often prolonged absences, she thought it best not to tempt fate with Kit's presence. She did not want to yield and find her husband beating her over carrying his brother's child. Best that Kit stayed away and the opportunity to stray from her vows did not ever occur.

It had become obvious, directly after her marriage to Vachel, that Kit adored her. She'd not once outwardly encouraged Kit. It wasn't the proper thing to do and her family had instilled within her a sense of what was proper, even if she sometimes ignored it.

Elizabeth met him in the center of the great hall, trying to disregard the thrill of pleasure she felt upon seeing him again. "Kit. What a surprise. We weren't expecting you."

He made a furious motion at the three men coming through the hall door. One was Roland she saw and the other two were unfamiliar. "Come on, Will! Wat! We've no time to waste!"

"No time?" Elizabeth raised her brows. Kit had lathered himself thoroughly in whatever situation was at hand, practically dancing as he watched the men come towards them. Introductions were given, Elizabeth giving a tiny smile at the name of 'Thatcher'. "You're not by chance the infamous William Thatcher," she asked sweetly.

"I should hope I'm not infamous," he replied, giving her a courtly bow.

"I can see why my brother hated you." Her attention returned to Kit. "What's this about? I take it you're not here on a casual visit."

Her hands were clasped in his. "Vachel is going after your brother. He plans to kill him and take over the manor."

She cast a confused glance at Sir Will and Wat. "If he's going there, then why are you here?"

His blue gaze held hers, a bit of sadness in those depths. "We're found out, Bess. Vachel knows I want you."

She snatched her hands away, taking a step back. Her heart was a painful thudding. "How? Surely you didn't --"

"Tell him? Do I look mad? I'd never tell Vachel I wanted anything. He always finds some way to destroy it. It was bad enough that he suspected I was pleased by the idea of you when Alain inquired of our family."

"We came here to head him off," Sir Will offered in explanation of her original question. "He was moving towards Count Adhemar's home, but shifted direction this way. We had several men defect to his army."

Elizabeth sat in the nearest chair, rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. Her hair fell as a curtain about her face. "He'll beat me half to death or worse. If he plans to kill Alain, then he won't hesitate to dispose of me."

"What of your other brothers," Roland asked. "Won't they make a fuss?"

She shook her head. "Alain always cared more for me than any of them, though I do love them all."

From the shadows came Germaine's voice. "You're wrong, my lady. You were most treasured by each of them."

Sitting up, she gave him a nod of thanks, then an apologetic smile. "Treasure fades when put away for a long time, Germaine, and they put me away with Vachel for far too long. All he would have to do is proclaim adultery on my count and I'd be struck from the family list."

Elizabeth turned her face to the fire and listened to the men speak around her without saying another word.

~~~~~~~~~~

Lady Bess....Elizabeth, Will corrected to himself with pursed lips, was not what he had been expecting. She was most certainly an Adhemar; her looks bore that out. She shared the same eyes and the same turn of the mouth as her brother. Will found their situation even funnier with this turn. How amusing that the woman Kit wanted to free from his abusive brother was Adhemar's sister!

If the situation wasn't quite so serious, he'd laugh about it. Will had given his word that he'd protect Lady Bess from danger, so if he managed to, Adhemar would be indebted to him for it. Of course, Wat hadn't found it quite as humorous as he did, grumbling to Roland that Adhemar would gut them all if they managed to get his sister killed. And, that was truth also. Adhemar would seek revenge for any weakness that touched a family member of his. He was a proud man and demanding in his standards. 'Twas one reason Will thought he'd been so angry at finding Will was not nobility. Pride. His pride demanded propriety in certain areas, anything having to do with nobility being one of them.

If that was so though, then why had he pursued Kate? Wouldn't his pride get in the way of anything more than a few tosses in the night?

Germaine had told Will and Wat his tale and of his conversations with Kate. He'd made much over his regret that he'd not been able to wake Kate in time to take her with him. Wat had gotten in a punch at that, but when the herald hadn't defended himself, seeming to think the hit was his due, Wat had stopped himself, giving the man a look of disgust.

Will went to the window and looked out towards the road. Vachel's army could not be far behind them and if everything went as planned, then they'd be making haste along the way so as to not be caught in battle. Vachel would walk in, planning to barricade himself in the home and pick off Kit's forces by using the defensive walls. As he watched, there came a light, then another and another, until torches had been lit all along the road leading to the manor.

He was right. The enemy was close at hand.

Taking up his sword, Will headed for the great hall.