Elizabeth Chadwick - The Love Knot

'Jesu God! Catrin uttered again, but this time it was not a whisper but a full-blown howl.

For a moment she went rigid beneath him, and then she shattered, the ripples of her climax engulfing him and bringing him triumphantly to his own.

He surfaced somewhat breathlessly from a well of pleasure whose depth had taken him by surprise. But then lying with Catrin in the old days had often been rewarding. He liked her wild response. It was always better with a woman who cried and screamed. And now that he had taken her, he felt more in control.

Withdrawing, he rolled away and sat up. She was still breathing hard, but the straining hunger no longer filled her expression. Very slowly, as if reluctant to do so, she opened her eyes and looked up at him with heavy lids. Then she flung violently away and burst into tears.

It was not what he had expected and for an instant he was nonplussed. 'Catty? He leaned over her. 'What's wrong?

She shook her head and wept all the more. Louis sighed and pulled her dress down over her buttocks and bare thighs. She was wearing red silk hose like the ones he had given her all those years ago, and the sight sent a small aftershock of lust through him.

'I'll bring some more wine, he murmured, and slipped out of the shed.

When he returned, she had pulled herself over to the wall and sat with her spine against the planks, her knees drawn up to her chin in a defensive posture. She had ceased to weep, but her eyes were swollen and she kept sniffing into a linen kerchief.

'I brought some bread too, else you'll be as drunk as a Bristol sailor, he said, as he set the wooden platter down in front of her.

'Perhaps I want to be as drunk as a Bristol sailor, she answered in a choked voice. 'Perhaps I want to consign what just happened to a drunken haze.

'Not you, Catty, it's not in your nature. You always run to meet difficulties head on.

'What would you know about my nature these days?

'Not enough, although I've made a beginning.

He started to grin, but she wiped it off his face when she said, 'Then I hope you're proud.

'I never gave pride a thought, did you? he retorted with some asperity, and poured wine into one of the cups. 'I wanted you, I still do and, as I far as I'm aware, the feeling is mutual.

He took a drink from the cup and then handed it across to her. 'Is it not?

She rested the cup on her knees and stared into the wine. 'I don't know. If you asked me my name just now, my tongue would stumble. I came to Rochester in search of the man to whom I am betrothed, and instead I find that betrothal null and void because I am no longer a widow but a wife.

Louis tilted his head. 'Tell me about him, he said. 'Tell me about your life since I left it and, in the name of Christ, eat some of this bread before you faint on me. He thrust the platter beneath her nose.

She took one of the flat, golden loaves and bit into it without any enthusiasm. 'I thought about throwing myself into the river and joining you, she said with a twisted smile. 'What a waste that would have been. But I was saved from myself and my grief by a lady named Amice de Cormel, who was in need of a maid for herself and a nurse for her seven-year-old son.

He listened attentively and with developing interest as she told him her tale. Catrin the girl-wife, whose sole concern had been tending the hearth and pleasing his needs, had become Catrin the woman of independent strength and means. But that was only a small part of her appeal. Piquancy was added by the fact that her betrothed was his prisoner. Louis could see the attraction that the tall blond knight might have for Catrin. Oliver Pascal's laconic ways only hinted at the quiescent strength of the man, and the way he bore himself would be equally as appealing to women as a more bold approach. Still, Louis might yet have released Catrin from old vows had she not mentioned that King Stephen was in her debt for tending his wounds at Bristol.

'King Stephen? he repeated, unable to believe his good fortune. 'You know King Stephen?

She made a small movement of her shoulders as if it did not matter. 'They keep him in irons and the irons chafe. I tend his flesh with salve and I have spoken to him often. He knows me by sight and by name.

Louis gazed at her while his imagination took flight. His young wife, whom he had once thought insignificant enough to desert, had the ear and the gratitude of Stephen himself. 'I have heard a rumour that Stephen will soon be exchanged for Robert of Gloucester, he said.

'Then his men will be freed too? She looked at him eagerly.

'That will depend on who holds their ransoms, but I should think so. He rubbed his palm across his upper lip.

'I don't even know if Oliver's alive. She gave a sniff and wiped her sleeve across her face. 'That's what I was coming to find out… and then this happened. She looked at him, searching his face. 'What am I going to do?

Louis considered her. He knew that he had to play this very carefully now; hold the balance, manipulate it in his favour. 'He is alive, you need not fear on that score, he said. 'I saw him and spoke to him earlier this morning.

Several emotions flashed across her face. Relief and joy, swiftly followed by the bitten lip and tear-filled eyes of guilt and grief. 'He is well?

'Chafing at the confinement, but otherwise whole. I was one of the party who captured him and the Earl of Gloucester on the Winchester road, and part of my duty has been to guard them. I am promised a portion of the ransom price but, in the light of what he is to you, I dare say I could be generous enough to waive it.

'You dare say? Catrin looked at him through swollen, narrowed eyes. 'You could be generous? She flung the words and then, with a rapid fumbling at her waist, she hurled a leather pouch in his face, making him duck. 'Take it, she spat. 'Take it all. Go and count it in a corner and rub your hands!

He looked down at the pouch where it had fallen into his lap. Silver coins spilled from its open throat. He scooped them back, laced the drawstring and placed it gently at her side. It was not as generous a gesture as it appeared. By the laws of matrimony, whatever was Catrin's was his. He would have the silver from her at a time of his own choosing.

'I confess that I am jealous, he said, with the travesty of a smile. 'I would like to run him through with my sword, but how can I when, to all intents and purposes, you were a widow and, as far as both of you were aware, the road was clear? I am sorry if I cannot be as gracious about it as you wish, or as I indeed would wish it myself. He paused and shrugged. 'But then, I realise that I have you and he has nothing. I will free him this very day.

She made a choking sound and, turning to one side, retched up the wine she had drunk. He watched her and said nothing, his eyes brightly observing her response as he had observed it in the act of love. He was surprised to find that he really did feel jealous — although he had no intention of running Pascal through on his sword. There were other, subtler means of torture.

'Is that a condition of his release, you having me? she demanded as she sat up. Her voice hovered on the verge of loathing.

Louis kept his own voice level, a little apologetic. 'I suppose you could take it that way, Catty my love, but I was hoping that you would cleave to me without such threats. You cannot marry him while I still live. You cannot give him legitimate heirs of his body or stand in church with him. Taking her hands in his, he leaned towards her. 'I promise on my honour to be a better husband than I was before. I still love you and desire you. I always have.

'But you don't love me enough to set me free, she said flatly.

'Is that what you want?

She jutted her jaw at him, and the old, stubborn look was back on her face. The one presented to him when he strolled home from the alehouse three hours later than promised with blond hairs on his tunic. 'I want to see Oliver.

Louis eyed her thoughtfully, considering his options. He could run the risk of 'setting her free' and hope that she chose him, or he could hold her to ransom with Oliver's release as the price. The first was the more dangerous but ultimately the more satisfying if things went his way. The second would ensure him her body, her obedience and access to King Stephen, but not the devotion he craved from her.

He inclined his head. 'If that is your desire. There was a doubtful note in his voice. 'But I am not sure it is for the best.

'I want to see him, she repeated, her voice trembling.

Rising, Louis beat crumbs of soil and bark from his elegant tunic. Then he helped her to her feet, his expression one of tender anxiety. 'It is your decision. He brushed gently at the creases and rumples in her gown.

'I know. Trembling, she stiffened her spine.

Louis cupped her face with his palm and brushed away her tears with a gentle thumb. 'Then, Holy Christ, I pray you make the right one, he said softly, and anticipation quivered through him at the size of the gamble he had just taken.

Oliver was seated over a merels board with Geoffrey, halfheartedly considering his move, when their prison door opened and Louis de Grosmont returned.

Oliver eyed him with surprise. He had not thought to see de Grosmont again until his next turn of duty, especially after viewing him with the woman in the bailey. The satisfied glow on the man's face and the sated droop of his eyelids suggested that the encounter had been profitable. 'Now what does he want? Oliver muttered out of the side of his mouth.