Page 22 of Katherine the Vixen

Siaspar left the room, feeling more dispirited than ever.

How would he get himself out of this mess? The obvious answer would be to do what he suspected his wife wanted to do, and have their union annulled. But such a procedure could be lengthy, and was not guaranteed to be successful without proof and witnesses. Besides, it was not in his interest to do so, now less than ever. Only the week before, they’d received news that his friend Rhodri ap Rhys had had his estate confiscated.

The previous year, some English barons had attacked the lands of the king’s favorite, Hugh Despenser, in South Wales. The man had abused his position for years and created bitter enemies during his rise to power. Moved by the hatred they felt toward him, various nobles had invaded Glamorgan and seized Despenser’s lands. After crushing the rebellion, King Edward II had increased the military presence all over Wales. And one of his friends had been rewarded for his role in the handling of the barons by being presented with Rhodri’s lands. The man, whose family had owned the castle for generations, now had nothing left to his name, just like Cadell.

Siaspar was hoping that his union to Lady Malpas, unpleasant as it was, would offer some protection against such a fate. Surely the king would think twice about antagonizing a man married to one of his subjects? Could he really risk ridding himself of his wife when the fact that he was married to an Englishwoman was the only thing in his favor in Edward II’s mind?

No, not before he had found an alternative to protect his life’s work.

“What a state of affairs,” Cadell had said when he’d found out about Rhodri. “And think of the cruel irony: you were forced to marry an Englishwoman you can’t stand while I, who have actually found an Englishwoman I love, can never be with her.”

Yes, Siaspar knew about his brother’s feelings for the Lady Johanna, who had married one of the local lords but still spent most of her time in England. It seemed that English women were destined to be the bane of the two men’s lives, whether they had married them or not.

Lost in unpleasant thoughts, he spent an agitated night and woke up in a dark mood.

By contrast, in the morning, Lady Malpas was glowing. Knowing that she would be free of her husband’s advances for a few weeks had done wonders for her complexion. It did not make her more appealing, however, quite the opposite.

Siaspar regarded her warily, as he would a dangerous serpent about to strike. He took a sip of ale and wondered if Katherine would be the one washing the cup later on. How odd to think that he had made love to a woman who was this moment laboring away in the kitchen, out of sight. He had always balked at the idea of taking his pleasure with women who worked at the castle, who would be wary of losing their position if they refused him. He preferred to go to ladies or villagers who were free to decide whether to welcome his advances or keep him at a distance.

So far that had not happened, he reflected wryly. A few had pretended to need persuasion before surrendering, but the light in their eyes had belied their false attack of modesty. They had been playing a game, nothing more. He had indulged them, allowing them to believe that they had been shamelessly seduced.

Katherine had been the only woman who had not come to him of her own accord. The idea grated, even if he knew that on the second night, though it had not been her decision to bed him, she had eventually surrendered to the pleasure he had given her. He still remembered the fierce spasms of her release, a release that had triggered his own.

It struck him that she was the first English woman he had bedded. He had seduced a few Scottish lasses during his visit to his sister in Scotland, and there had been a wild night with a Frenchwoman once, but English women, never.

Another first.

A laugh escaped his throat. What an unlikely choice of a bedmate this Katherine was. An unwilling, unexperienced English scullion he didn’t trust or even know. In other words, the polar opposite of his usual conquests.

So why did he find himself thinking of her multiple times a day?

The best thing for him might be to go away for a few weeks. Yes, he decided, watching his wife push away the plate of cheese with disgust, once the fields were ready, he would go to Castell Esgyrn and see Lord Sheridan, who was almost like a father to him and most especially to his sister, Bethan, who had lived with the Hunter family from a young age. Being English, and married to a Welsh woman, the man might have some insight about how to make such a marriage work.

“I don’t feel too well.”

Mel placed a hand on her forehead and closed her eyes. Katherine frowned. She and the maid had become close friends in the last eight weeks. At just nineteen, she reminded Katherine of her sister, Annette, whom she missed dearly.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m cold,” Mel sighed. “I have a headache and I feel dizzy.”

Katherine placed her hand on her friend’s forehead. It was boiling hot. “I will find Mistress Blodwen and ask her for some willow bark tea. In the meantime, you should go and lie down.”

“Lie down! I don’t have the⁠—”

“I will finish what you have to do, don’t worry. I have a bit of time to spare before dinner,” she lied. In truth, she had a huge pile of pots to wash, as usual, but Mel was her only friend at Castell y Ddraig, and she wanted to repay her kindness.

“Well, I was about to go clean his lordship’s room.”

“There is no rush, surely? He’s been gone for days.” He and his squire, Gwyn, had gone to spend some time at a place nearby called Castell Esgyrn, which Mel had told her meant “Bones Castle.” It had made Katherine wonder why the Welsh liked such ominous names for their castles. “You could go tomorrow, if you feel better.”

Mel shook her head. “I saw Gwyn earlier in the courtyard. He was sent ahead to tell us that the master was due to come back tonight. The rushes need replacing, and the fire will have to be lit or it will be too cold in the room.”

“Oh. I see.”

For all she wanted to help, Katherine would rather not have gone to Siaspar’s room. If he saw her there, he would immediately suspect her of meddling for Lady Malpas’ benefit. Their last encounter had not exactly been pleasant and on the rare occasions they had crossed paths, she had avoided looking at him.

“It will not take long,” Mel argued, sensing she was having second thoughts. “I would really appreciate your help, because…”