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his cloak all night prevented him from sleeping much. What was it the old woman had called her? “Kitty?” It suited her. He could almost hear her purr in comfort as she tangled herself up on his lap. No, he hadn’t slept much at all.
    It started raining around noon and Wolf’s mood, which was already foul, didn’t improve any. Wolf paced the troop so the old woman could easily keep up, but he saw that she was having difficulty nonetheless. “Nicholas.”
    Wolfs cousin was drawn out of his own sodden thoughts and looked up.
    â€œSee to her.” Wolfram gave a nod of his head indicating the rear of the train.
    Kit moved so she could peer around Wolfs back and saw Nicholas take Bridget up with him on his mount. He settled her in front and pulled his cloak over them both, so she could ride as comfortably as possible. Kit would have thanked Wolf for his kindness toward Bridget except for the fierce look in his deep gray eyes. The man certainly was moody, and she didn’t want to set him off. As it was, she was grateful to be securely situated in front of him with his thick cloak covering them and enough heat generated from his body to warm them both. The all-pervading smell of wet horse, wet wool and wet leather was strangely quieting.
    The light drizzle turned to rain and still they went on through the hills towards Cumbria. Kit had difficulty understanding why they were veering west since she knew the direction to London was to the south and a bit east.
    â€œYou realize you’ve been taking us in the wrong direction for hours, Gerhart?” She used the name all the men called him and not “Wolf.”
    His reply was merely a rude grunt
    â€œI thought you were taking me to London,” she said. “Had my stepfather known of this detour, I doubt he would have permitted me to come traipsing around the entire countryside with you and your soldiers.”
    â€œHe’s a good one for seeing to your welfare, isn’t he?” The sarcasm wasn’t lost on Kit. However, she had her pride and refused to allow him to think that she had been raised as anything less than a lady.
    â€œHe promised my mother he would care for me like his own daughter. He has provided well for me—”
    â€œHe beats his own offspring as well, then?”
    Kit refused to allow him to humiliate her, so she shrugged and did not answer.
    â€œHow old are you?”
    Kit hesitated before replying. She was somewhat advanced in age to be unmarried, and it was embarrassing. She wanted to lie but couldn’t bring herself to sin outright.
    â€œTwenty,” she finally admitted.
    â€œWhy aren’t you wed? Or at least betrothed?” He had no doubt that Baron Somers would have difficulty finding anyone willing to take on this unkempt urchin who probably had no feminine skills at all. Nonetheless, he couldn’t see the sense in keeping her around Somerton manor when she obviously irritated the baron to the point of violence.
    â€œI am betrothed! Well, nearly so, I mean.”
    â€œWhat, some local swain has begged for your hand?” The incredulous sound to his voice angered her. He acted as if she were completely unmarriageable! What did the big oaf know of it?
    â€œIt just so happens that he is one of King Henry’s guard!” she snapped angrily.
    â€œWho?” Wolf demanded. He knew all of them.
    â€œRupert Aires.”
    Wolf laughed out loud. Rupert Aires was a young, handsome knight in Henry’s service, well known for his amorous adventures with the ladies of the court. He was always embroiled in one escapade or another. Surely Kathryn was mistaken about a future betrothal to him. His loyalty to Henry was unquestioned, but otherwise the fellow was a scoundrel. An unprincipled skirt chaser.
    â€œI don’t suppose you know him?”
    â€œOf course I know him.” His voice was irritable again.
    â€œWell...?”
    â€œHe is a competent