Page 27 of Katherine the Vixen

Before he could do more than shake his head, someone spoke. A Welsh man this time man. Gwyn. His squire.

“Arglwydd Mawr! My lord, you’re awake!”

Siaspar groaned and opened his eyes a fraction. “I’m alive, you mean,” he managed eventually.

“Yes. When I found you lying in a pool of your own blood, I swear I…” Instead of finishing his sentence, the young man crossed himself swiftly.

“I was on the floor?”

“Yes. Passed out with the effort it had taken you to bandage your wrist, I wager.”

So, Katherine had eased him on the floor, not carried him to bed. She had not wanted to leave him on the chair at the risk of him falling and fracturing his skull while senseless. It had been her only option, as she would never have been able to hoist him up onto the bed. Gwyn was a sturdy lad, everything she was not.

All the same, she had saved his life. There was no doubt.

“I will ask that you never talk of what you saw in that room,” he told his squire. He would not have anyone else believing he had tried to take his own life.

“Of course, my lord.”

Siaspar closed his eyes again. Dear God, he felt weak as a kitten, worse than he had ever felt in his life. But it could have been much worse. He could have died this day. In fact, he would have died had it not been for Katherine.

Why had she tried to save him, he couldn’t help but wonder?

As to why Lady Malpas had wanted to dispose of him, the answer was all too obvious. She wanted to be rid of a husband she had never wanted. He’d guessed that she would never accept their union. Still, he had never imagined that she would resort to cold-blooded murder. He might have been impressed by her doggedness had he not been the intended victim. As he was her intended victim, he decided to keep his admiration to himself.

With effort, he opened his eyes again. “Gwyn, go find Katherine, the English scullion, and ask her to come to my room.”

“To your room? Now?”

Gwyn’s raised eyebrows spoke of begrudging admiration. He thought his master lusty enough to want to bed a woman moments after having escaped death. Siaspar did not know whether to be flattered by the young man’s faith in his virility or laugh at the ludicrousness of the idea. Because he had no energy to spare, he did neither.

“Have her come immediately. I need to speak to her.”

That his master would want to speak to a scullion seemed to surprise Gwyn even more. Nevertheless, he bowed and left the room.

It was not long before Katherine walked in, diffidence written all over her face. Her eyes darted to the wrist he had purposefully hidden under the covers. So he had been right, she knew about his injury. Not that he’d been in any doubt about what she had done.

“Come closer,” he ordered when she remained by the door frame. “I think you know why I called you here.”

“I’m afraid I’m not sure, my lord.”

Siaspar clenched his jaw, but then he thought twice of his first, instinctive reaction. After all, it could be true. If Gwyn had thought it possible that he should want to bed her, why should she not think the same thing? It would not be the first time or even the second time that he had done so and he was already lying in bed, for all intents and purposes, ready for a tumble. Or her wariness could be due to the fact that she thought he was about to bark at her. Given the manner of their last two encounters, he could not blame her for thinking thus. She might be expecting another scolding.

No wonder she was looking nervous.

But Siaspar did not intend to put her under accusation today. He knew he owed her his life. Whatever her motives, he would be dead had she not intervened when she had and knowing he should have died made him grateful to the person who had saved his life.

“I called you here because I wanted to thank you,” he said bluntly.

“Thank me?”

“Yes. We both know why.” He took his bandaged wrist from under the covers. She inhaled but did not betray any surprise. So, he’d been right. She knew about the injury. “I believe you know what this is?” She lowered her gaze, unable to deny it. “What I don’t understand is why you did it, going expressly against your mistress’ wishes.”

Katherine paled at the question. He understood there and then that, if Lady Malpas had wished him dead, the little scullion had nothing to do with it.

“She doesn’t know I helped you, she isn’t aware I saw her…do what she did,” she finished in a small voice.

She brought her hand to her temple like someone who could not bear to remember the dreadful scene.