Page 44 of Katherine the Vixen

“They will show you the materials they have brought, if it pleases you,” Siaspar promptly translated.

“Yes, of course. But… I don’t think I should be the one choosing. I think they have mistaken me for your lady wife because of the dress I’m wearing,” she told Siaspar when the two men retreated to a corner of the room to prepare their wares.

And little wonder, considering the fact that she and Siaspar had been laughing together when they had arrived, that she was evidently English and dressed in sumptuous clothes. She looked not only like a lady, but like the lady of the castle, at ease with her husband.

“They certainly have,” he confirmed.

“Well, you should tell them I am not.”

“I disagree. The matter would take too long to explain, would make no sense to them and, as flattered as they are to dress my wife, they might not take it too well to be told they are dealing with a servant instead.”

Katherine could not think of anything to reply to that. Instead she asked, “You don’t really dislike Lady Malpas’ dresses, do you? You only used the making of a new wardrobe as an excuse to get me out of the kitchen.”

“I have absolutely no interest in how Lady Malpas dresses or in anything she does,” he confirmed harshly. “She could wear a sack of cloth or the most precious silk. All I would see when I look at her is her dark soul.”

Whereas when I look at you, all I see is your sunny disposition.

The words were left unspoken but she heard them all the same. Gaze locked with Siaspar, Katherine allowed the warmth of his approval wash over her.

A voice spoke from behind her, shaking her out of the moment. The tailors. She had almost forgotten about them.

“They are waiting for you,” Siaspar immediately translated.

He gave a little bow before taking his leave. Katherine flushed.

“Please, do not bow to me,” she murmured before he could walk away. “It feels…wrong.” He didn’t like her curtseying, but this was even worse.

“Very well. I have no wish to embarrass you. Besides, it does look odd. I would never bow to my own wife, even if I harbored feelings other than contempt for her.”

“Would you not?”

“No. I would kiss her like so.”

Before Katherine could utter a single sound, he brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across the tips of her fingers. The warmth of his touch traveled all the way up her arm to reach a place deep inside of her. It would look like a respectful kiss to observers, yet to her it felt full of sensual promise because she had seen the storm gathering in the brown eyes fixed on her.

“Please, my lord. You shouldn’t do this. If your…” She stopped, feeling no more inclined than he was to call Lady Malpas his wife.

“She can think what she likes,” he told her with the same harshness he displayed every time Lady Malpas was mentioned.

But it was easy for him to say as, contrary to her, he did not have to fear retribution from her against his family. He must have understood what she had not said for he suddenly let go of her hand.

“Forgive me, you have every reason to be wary of her reaction. She is a dangerous woman who already imprisoned your father and blackmailed you into selling your body. And, of course…” One glance at his wrist made his meaning clear. She had almost killed him. Katherine felt herself grow pale at the thought. “I should not place you or your family in danger just to please myself.”

Please himself? It pleased him to kiss her hand? She blinked but did not dare ask any more questions.

Siaspar walked to the door, leaving her in the hands of the two tailors.

The fitting lasted an eternity, or so it seemed, but Katherine did not mind. She had nothing better to do and it gave her time to organize her thoughts and make sense of Siaspar’s unsettling attitude. But even after what felt like whole day of modeling for dresses she would never wear, she had not reached any acceptable conclusion.

Around her, the two tailors were busying themselves, pinning fabric in place, trying out different hues against the color of her skin, all the while uttering a never-ending flow of Welsh. The mutterings she did not understand made it easy for her to ignore them. As they knew she would not be able to converse with them, they didn’t ask any questions.

The men had thrown themselves with relish into the task of dressing the supposed lady of Castell y Ddraig. Katherine imagined their dismay at being told that the woman they were lavishing their attention and expertise on had been that very morning scrubbing pans in the kitchen until her fingers ached. They had seemed intrigued by her less than polished fingernails, admittedly, but, if they’d commented on the state of them, she had not understood.

Finally, they declared themselves satisfied. At least, that was what it looked like from their expression of rapture. They were eyeing her expectantly and she realized that they must have asked her something. She made a gesture of helplessness.

“I imagine that you will want to speak to my lord.” They evidently did not understand her any more than she understood them for they just blinked. “Siaspar ap Morgan?” she said, feeling very bold for using his name in such a way but knowing that they would not understand her otherwise.

They nodded. They probably wanted to discuss payment. Her first movement was to go and get him herself, then she checked the impulse, remembering who she was supposed to be. As the lady of the castle, she should ask for someone to do her bidding, but she could not call anyone, for they would understandably have raised questions as to who she was and on whose authority she was ordering them around.