Page 60 of Katherine the Vixen

It was telling her in the only way it could that what she felt for this man was more than admiration and gratitude. She was not in awe of him, she was not grateful for what he had done for her. Or rather, she was all those things and more, and seeing him so at ease in her familiar environment made her realize that she had fallen in love with him.

Now that she knew the truth about her feelings, everything about him fascinated her anew. His profile, in particular. The unruly hair, the straight nose, the sensual mouth, the strong neck, everything was perfect. Had she not known how generous he was, she would still have been drawn to his beauty. Had she been blind, she would still have been entranced by his manners. As she was both able to see him and aware of his engaging personality, she had no chance.

From the start, she had been destined to fall in love with this man who, as well as being the most intriguing she had ever met, had also made love to her twice.

When she finally managed to tear her gaze away from him, her father was standing by the side of the cottage, watching her. From the way he was cocking his head, Katherine guessed that her feelings for Siaspar must have shown on her face. Her father, who knew her better than most people, would understand that she had fallen in love with her master, a man so above herself nothing could ever happen.

She reddened and lowered her head to the floor.

Her father cleared his throat and walked forward.

“My lord, you are right welcome,” he said, showing more aplomb than his wife. He seemed to think that a man who had won his daughter’s heart had to be a worthy individual who would not mind any faux pas he might commit when he addressed him. “How may we assist you?”

“I came to thank you for sending your daughter to work in Lady Malpas’ household. I believe it was your idea that she did so.”

“Yes. But it is us who should be thanking you for providing her with such a prestigious position. We understand that you asked her to become a lady in waiting of sorts.”

Siaspar waved the words away. “No, I should be the one thanking you because I doubt your daughter told you as much but she saved my life a few weeks ago.”

Katherine knew she had gone crimson. That was why he had wanted to come here, to tell her family about the rescue? He was right. She had not breathed a word of that terrible day to her family and she had never imagined that Siaspar himself would reveal what had happened.

“She saved your life!” her mother cried. “How so, my lord?”

“I got badly cut during a sword fight and she bandaged my wrist before I could lose too much blood. The rest of the assembly simply stared when I fell and I would have bled to death had your daughter not shown a presence of mind I believe you taught her.” Katherine was grateful that he had made it look like it had been an accident rather than an attempted murder she had only witnessed because she had been alone in his bedchamber. This simpler version of the incident was less likely to cause trouble for her. “Didn’t she tell you?”

“No, she did not,” her father said pensively, making Katherine go redder. He seemed to read a lot in this unusual silence.

“It was nothing,” she mumbled. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“Perhaps, but they did not. You were the one who reacted in time and stopped the blood.” Siaspar pointed out. “And I am grateful. Had you not been there, I would be buried right now.”

At this, all the blood left Katherine’s face. From crimson she felt herself go deathly pale.

“Do not distress yourself so,” her father said quietly. “As his lordship pointed out, he did not die.”

By now, even her mother had noticed her unusual reaction. She glanced at her husband, who nodded imperceptibly.

“Katherine, could you come inside a moment? I need your help with the baby.”

Though this was an obvious ploy to speak to her alone and ask some difficult questions, Katherine had no choice but to follow her and leave the two men together.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked her mother, anxious not to be away for too long. What else would Siaspar tell her father? She wasn’t sure she was ready to find out.

“Never mind that! Oh, my poor, sweet daughter, you are in love with that man!”

The statement was so blunt—and so true—that Katherine could deny it. She fell onto the stool by the hearth. “I…I⁠—”

“You cannot think of him like this! He is your master, a nobleman, and he is married for goodness’ sake!” Her mother was wringing her hands in despair. “Nothing good can come out of it.”

“I know. But… I can’t help it. I love him.” Saying the words out loud was a liberation and felt like a condemnation at the same time. Her mother was right; the odds were stacked against them. The scullion and the lord. The English villager and the Welsh warrior. The maid—supposedly—and the married man. They were doomed three times over. “I cannot help but love him. If you knew him, you would⁠—”

“Dear God in Heaven! Do not tell me he has taken you to bed?” Her mother was aghast but thankfully she did her best to keep her voice down. It would not do for their conversation to be overheard.

“He… It’s not what you think, I swear.”

“So he has. Oh, Katherine!” This was no more than an appalled whisper. “You are ruined.”

“Please, it is not what you think,” Katherine repeated, standing up. She could not let her mother imagine Siaspar as a mighty nobleman sating his lust with all the servants he could find. There was so much more to their story than this. “Siaspar is not⁠—”