the local magistrate and his parish constable. The magistrate had a bandage round his head and was in a towering rage. It seems he had just been held up at gunpoint on the Moor by Black Jack Standon, scourge of those parts, and had been hit on the head and lightened of his watch, card case and rings. The man had become such a menace over the past few months that the dragoons had been stationed in the vicinity to catch him and the magistrate put them hot on his heels.’
‘But why did they think you were he?’ Katherine demanded. ‘A perfectly respectable traveller …’
‘A man bearing a close resemblance to a tall, dark, black-eyed highwayman. And a man, apparently drunk on rum, slumped on a bed in a shady inn known to be one of Black Jack’s haunts. My clothes and all my possessions had gone and I was dressed in the clothes you saw me in today. My horse had vanished and in its place was a distinctive black gelding with one white foot and a white blaze. Black Jack’s horse. The barmaid put on a particularly good act, throwing herself on my chest and sobbing that I was not Black Jack. Naturally that looked as suspicious as hell.’
‘But you told them who you were? Surely your friends …’ Once again the light went out of his eyes, just as it had when she had asked him about his dependents. Katherine watched the strong line of his jaw tense before he answered.
‘There is no one. Everything I had to prove my identity had gone. The trial was a foregone conclusion and so was the verdict.’
‘So Black Jack escaped the dragoons. And all he has to do is lie low for another week or so …’
‘Five days to be precise, as of noon tomorrow.’
‘Why are you not angry?’ Katherine demanded. Fury was building in her on his behalf. ‘The coward might just as well have shot you in the back!’
Nick shrugged. ‘Anger will not do me any good. He was caught like a rat in a trap and got out of it with some quick thinking. It was just his good fortune that I have no way of proving who I am. Most people would have been shown to be innocent within days; as it is, the hunt will be off—he could not have predicted it.’ He looked keenly at her. ‘Now, Kat, don’t cry. Why are you crying?’
‘Because I am angry,’ she said, rubbing furiously at her eyes with her handkerchief and glaring at him, defying him to read any other emotion into her sudden spurt of tears. He looked back, an amused smile tugging the corners of what she was increasingly aware was a very sensual mouth. His eyes were dark and steady on her and she swallowed. He was a very attractive man. A very big, very masculine man and any minute he was going to …
‘I think we should go to bed, Kat.’
She had been expecting it all evening, knew it was inevitable; still she could not suppress the little gasp of alarm.
‘Kat, I said we should go to bed, not anything else. We can talk if you like or we can go to sleep, but that is all, I promise.’
‘You don’t want to—’ Her voice failed her.
‘Make love to you? Yes, of course I want to,’ he said matter of factly. ‘I am a man, you are a very attractive young lady who just happens to be my wife. But I have no intention of forcing an unwilling woman.’
‘You would not be—I mean, I would not be.’ Katherine swallowed. This was very difficult. ‘We had a bargain. I am resolved to honour my side of it. How else can I repay you?’
‘With a daily supply of plum cake for a week?’
‘Do not laugh at me!’
‘I am not, I respect your courage and your sense of honour. I should not have said what I did about the marriage being consummated. Of course it does not have to be: all that is needed is for us to be seen to have spent the night together.’
‘But we are married, we are here and you said you wanted to.’ Inwardly she flinched. Did she sound as though she was begging him to make love to her? Of course she was not, it could not be that making her feel confused and disappointed and hot inside.
‘I have been doing some thinking.’ Nick got to his feet and began to shrug off his coat. ‘What if you were with child as a result? You will have a hard enough time of it as it is without carrying a highwayman’s child.’
Katherine’s internal turmoil took a new frightening swoop. ‘I never thought of that.’
‘Yes, well, it happens. Now please, Katherine, get into bed. I have been dreaming of a good night’s sleep in a decent bed for weeks.’
‘You have the bed then, I will sit up.’ She felt as panicky as if he had begun to make love to her.
‘Do you want me to undress you and put you to bed?’ That glint was back in his eyes, the sensual drawl back in his voice. Katherine was in no doubt he would enjoy the tussle.
‘There is no need,’ she said with a dignity she was far from feeling. ‘If you would just turn your back, I will get into bed.’
He did so, spinning his chair around and sitting at the table. Katherine scrambled out of her clothes and into the nightgown she had brought. She had chosen the flimsiest, prettiest one she had while she was still buoyed up with her determination to prove willing and to please him; now it seemed scandalous.
She pulled the pins from her hair until it tumbled down her back and slipped into bed. The sheets came up to her chin. ‘I am in bed.’
‘Good. Now close your eyes in approved maidenly fashion and I will join you.’ He was laughing, the wretch. Katherine screwed up her eyes and reflected that if Nick Lydgate was getting some amusement from the evening it was no more than she owed him.
There was the sound of boots hitting the floor, the softer sound of clothes falling on a chair, then the covers moved, the bed dipped and he was beside her. Katherine felt his warmth, the touch of linen against her skin. Thank goodness he had retained his shirt. He smelt good; there was the familiar soap she bought for Philip, but under it a faint scent that could only be himself, clean, warm and relaxed.
‘That is a devilishly pretty nightgown, Kat.’ The straw mattress moved as he shifted to settle himself beside her. She opened her eyes just a fraction and saw he had snuffed all but two of the candles. ‘You should not be looking. Oh!’
He caught her in his arms and rolled her against his chest, his face buried in her hair. ‘My God, you smell good.’
‘No! You promised.’ Katherine wriggled.
‘I am not going to do anything but hold you and enjoy the scent of you. Now stop wriggling, it is extremely provocative and I will either break my promise or fall out of bed if you persist. That is a very charming noise you are making—you sound like a cross kitten.’
Katherine subsided. Infuriating man … but he did appear to be as good as his word, he was simply holding her. She could feel his breath stirring her hair, but his arms were strong and unmoving around her and his hands did not stroke or caress.
This was a very strange sensation, being held by a man. She tried to sort it out. The bed was surprisingly comfortable and she had drunk a whole glass and a half of wine, so her head felt a little muzzy. Nick’s arms around her, though unfamiliar, made her feel protected and safe. But his body—that was quite another thing. That made her feel anything but safe, yet she was not in the slightest bit frightened. Just shy and confused. He was hot and long and felt very hard and strong. She shivered, not from fear, but from a restless need to explore, touch …
‘Try and relax and go to sleep.’
‘I am relaxed.’
‘No, you are not, you are quivering.’
‘Oh. I am sorry.’ She must stop thinking about how this felt, think of something else. It did not take much effort to find a topic. The story Nick had just told her came back in all its horrifying detail. It was as effective as cold water splashed in her face. This man who was holding her so gently was going to be executed in just a few days for a crime he did not commit.