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her tendency to speak her mind. He
would have good reason now to remove her from his house at once.
    She should
apologize to him for leaving his table. The idea, however, made her stomach
twist into disagreeable knots. No matter what else she’d lost, she must keep
some semblance of pride.
    She glanced
behind her at her closed bedchamber door and then opened the window. Breaking
the silly rule would no doubt cause another flurry of alarm from Elizabeth, but
Katherine didn’t care. The breeze felt good, and it dried her unbidden tears.
    Lord Drayton had
been so quick to discount the king’s suggestion, telling her it meant nothing. She meant nothing.
    If only she knew
what her future held.
    She leaned out
and gazed at the pebbled carriage drive, imagining his big hands grasping his
wife, shoving her out, and watching her body fall.
    A sharp rap came
at her bedchamber door, and, with a shiver, she jerked the window closed.
    Millie curtsied
when Katherine opened the door, and the maid’s round eyes were wide. “M’lady,
Lord Drayton is finished with his meal and wants ye to come to his study.”
    He would rebuke
her now. Or banish her from his house. Perhaps both. Sudden trepidation made
her feet refuse to move. Where would she go?
    “He said at
once, m’lady. I am sorry.” Millie’s eyes lowered.
    Gripping her
slate in her trembling hands, Katherine followed the maid downstairs.

Chapter Five
     
    Lord Drayton’s
fierce expression and harsh tone made Katherine, legs shaking and arms hugging the
slate to her chest, unable to respond to his words with even a simple nod. All
coherent thought now centered on Millie’s words of his fierce quarrels with his
wife.
    He stood in the
middle of his study, arms akimbo and feet wide apart. “The Cookes are in the
parlor, so I shall not keep them waiting. Should you dine at my table again,
you will wait to be excused before leaving. Your abrupt departure, regardless
of the cause, was unpardonable.”
    Was he finished?
Would he punish her?
    He followed her
furtive glance to the thick rod hanging on the wall to his right. To her utter
surprise, the hard set of his lips relaxed into wry amusement.
    “You could never
do anything to warrant that,” he said. “’Tis dusty from disuse.”
    Relieved,
Katherine wetted her dry lips. Nonetheless, she remained stiff and still in
front of his study door until an itch in her throat made her turn and spend the
next moment coughing into her hand.
    “Are you ill?”
he asked when she at last straightened and moved her loose hair back from her
face. “Should I send for a doctor?” His hands, loosely clenched, had dropped to
his sides.
    She lifted her
slate and then studied his reaction.
    “Go ahead. I
understand your frustration. I could not speak for a week after my parents—” He
stopped as if catching himself, and shook his head. “Go on, answer me. Do you
wish for a doctor or not?”
    Although his
voice had once again become firm, his eyes held a searching quality.
    She wrote,
keeping her strokes light to minimize the chalk’s squeak. Doctors are useless . I have coughed since the London fire .
    “Ah. Well.” He
seemed almost disappointed. “I will not send for one, then. Have you tried
lozenges?”
    She nodded. Why
did he care?
    “Edward Cooke
knows his herbs. Perhaps he could suggest something.”
    Perhaps. Katherine
nodded once more, watching the play of candlelight on the bristles of his jaw.
How would they feel against her neck?
    “Very well. I
will ask him.” Lord Drayton once again crossed his arms, took a breath, and
leveled his chin. “And there is one more thing that I wish to make clear, Lady
Katherine. ’Tis only a ruse that the king suggested we marry. If he truly had,
I would have taken you to wife yesterday—out of loyalty to him.” He turned away
and lifted the single candle from his desk. With his back to her he added,
“Forsooth, I saw by your reaction in the dining room that you are as against
the idea