dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon Read online

  “Master, uh …”

  “Drake,” he supplied. “Favian Drake.”

  “Ah, yes. Master Drake.” She smiled sheepishly. Even she could hear the lie in her voice.

  “Still walking unattended, I see,” he said, falling into step beside her.

  “I don’t have far to go,” she explained.

  “And no packages, either. I was hoping to offer my services, but it would appear you have no need of them.”

  She glanced at him, flushing when she caught his amused smile. “You are laughing at me,” she said.

  “Well, yes,” he admitted. This time it was his turn to look sheepish. She tried to frown at him, but her sense of humor got the better of her, and she laughed.

  “That is very ungentlemanly of you.”

  “Yes, I confess it is,” he replied, his eyes holding hers as he returned her smile. She pulled her gaze away, quietly drawing in a deep breath to still her racing heart.

  “Do you often spend time at your father’s warehouse?” he asked.

  “How did you —?”

  “I asked some friends about you. I understand that you are quite involved in the family business.”

  “You were asking after me? Why?”

  “You intrigued me. I wanted to know more about you.”

  “Oh. And what did you find out?”

  “I found out that you are involved in your father’s business.”

  “Well, that gives you an unfair advantage. You know something about me, while I know nothing about you.”

  “I’m happy to share all my secrets with you,” he said. “Well,” he amended, “some of my secrets, at least for now. Will you allow me to call on you?”

  “No,” she said, aghast. “I can’t allow that. You already know I am betrothed to another man.”

  “Ah, yes. Geoffrey Beaumont. I’ve been asking about him, too.” He stopped, and she glanced around to see they were already outside her house. “I also found out where you live,” he said in response to her unspoken question. He glanced up at the house, his eyes lingering on the window on the upper floor. Like most houses in town, its frame was of thick oak, now darkened with age, filled with a mixture of wattle and daub. The upper storey overhung the street by a few feet, and it was here that Cathryn had her chambers, with the multi-paned leaded window overlooking the street.

  Favian turned back to Cathryn. “I look forward to our next chance encounter,” he said. “Good day.” He nodded his head and turned on his heel before she had a chance to reply. She watched his retreating figure with a mixture of dismay and amusement.

  “Hannah,” she said later that evening as her lady’s maid carefully brushed out her hair, “do you believe in love at first sight?” She regretted the question as soon as it left her mouth.

  “Love at first sight?” Hannah repeated. “That is not a question I would have expected you to ask, Mistress.”

  “I know,” she groaned. “I don’t know where it came from. Please pay it no mind.”

  “You’ve met someone, haven’t you?”

  “No,” Cathryn said. “No,” she repeated more firmly. “I am betrothed to Geoffrey Beaumont. I do not even believe in love, as well you know. All love does is lead you into misery. And all those romantic notions you hear of in tales and songs …” Cathryn shuddered. “Pure foolishness.”

  “Hmm.” Hannah pulled the brush through Cathryn’s hair a few more times, making it gleam in the candlelight. “So, who is he?”

  “No-one. He is no-one.” Cathryn closed her eyes when she saw Hannah’s raised eyebrows in the mirror. “He’s a man I met on the street. A nobody. But I cannot get him out of my mind.”

  “Handsome, is he?”

  “Yes, but that’s not it. There’s something about him; I cannot even say what it is. But his memory unsettles me and leaves me feeling very …” — it took a moment to find the right word — “… dissatisfied. Perhaps,” she continued, turning to face Hannah, “I should start planning my wedding to Geoffrey. We’ve been betrothed for, how many years has it been?”

  “Three. But rushing your wedding won’t solve anything,” Hannah warned.

  “Nonsense, it will be the perfect distraction. You will help me, of course,” she said, turning back to face the mirror.

  “Perhaps you should discuss this with Master Beaumont before you post the banns,” Hannah suggested as she pulled Cathryn’s hair into a tight braid.

  “I suppose you are right,” she said. “And Hannah, lay out my habit, please. I think I will go for an early morning ride.”

  Chapter 3

  Cathryn sat in the small parlor that led off from the great hall, her back straight in the hard-backed chair, looking at Geoffrey as he sat across from her.

  “I was thinking we should select a date in the winter,” Cathryn was saying. “Spring and summer are far too busy —”

  “Why this sudden urgency?” Geoffrey interjected. “You have never shown any inclination to rush into marriage before. In fact, one of the reasons I was happy to enter into this contract with you is because you are usually so reasonable, unlike many others of your sex.”

  “Why, thank you,” Cathryn said dryly, “but I would hardly call three years a rush.”

  “No, of course not,” Geoffrey responded, “but you have to admit this is all rather sudden. I thought we were quite content to leave our situations unchanged for the present time. Both our businesses have already benefited from this alliance, and formalizing the marriage now won’t alter anything.”

  Presented with this logic, Cathryn found she had no argument. After all, it was the success of the business that had directed every major decision she had ever made before now.

  “Perhaps I just want to be married,” she said, aware that she sounded petulant. Geoffrey stared at her in disbelief, before bursting into a hoot of cynical laughter.

  “Whatever the reason for this nonsense,” he said between laughs, “it is not because you want to settle into the tedium of married life. Before you start arranging this wedding, be sure that you really want to follow this route at the present time.”

  “Fine,” she ground out as Geoffrey continued to laugh at her. She stood up, irritated, and turned to look out the window as the door opened and Father walked into the room.

  “Ah, Cathryn, I’ve been looking for you, but I see you are presently engaged.” He nodded to Geoffrey before returning his attention to his daughter. “Please find me when you have a moment.”

  “Yes, Father. Is it a matter of urgency?”

  “Nothing that cannot wait a few hours. It is regarding our annual tour of suppliers, but we can discuss it later.” Nodding once more in Geoffrey’s direction, he exited the room.

  Cathryn turned to look at Geoffrey. The humor was still evident in his face, but he had a roll of paper in his hand, which he was spreading out on a desk near the window.

  “As entertaining as this discussion has been, my dear, I actually came here to discuss a matter of business. Come look at these figures,” he said, pointing to a column of numbers written with ink on the scroll of thick linen paper. “As you know, demand for our woolens and worsteds is growing, which means that we need to acquire larger quantities of both long-haired and short-haired wool.” Pulling her chair closer, Cathryn bent over the numbers with Geoffrey, the previous conversation giving way to the weightier matters of business.

  The light was already beginning to fade when Cathryn found her father some hours later, bent over a pile of papers, on which she recognized the seal of a fellow-merchant.

  “Come in, Cathryn,” Father said, gesturing her into the room. “Sit down.” Cathryn waited as he finished making some notes before carefully wiping his quill and placing it in a holder on the desk. “I need you to go on the road without me this year.” Cathryn nodded. This was not completely unexpected. “The king wants to raise taxes,” he continued, “and the Company will, of course, be sending a delegation to negotiate some concessions.” As a leading membe
r of the wool merchant’s guild, it was to be expected that Father would join the delegation. “Perhaps we can negotiate a lifting of the current trade embargo, a benefit to us that will also further enrich the royal coffers,” he added wryly. “The delegation plans to leave as soon as possible, and I do not want to delay our tour of estates, since heaven only knows how long these negotiations may drag on for.

  “Of course,” continued Father, “you won’t be traveling alone. Felix will travel with you, and you can take whatever personal staff you feel you will require.”

  Cathryn nodded. She knew that Felix, her father’s trusted bailiff and Hannah’s grandfather, would form part of the retinue. Older than her father by a few years, Felix had served as a trusted employee for as long as Cathryn could remember. He was a man of few words, but he had always had a friendly regard for Cathryn. She knew she would be quite safe traveling the countryside with him, and although most suppliers were familiar with her by now, his presence would also ensure they would treat her with more respect than if she were alone.

  “Very well, Father.” Cathryn nodded. “I will start making the necessary arrangements, and trust that your negotiations with the king will be successful.”

  “I believe we can come to a suitable arrangement with His Royal Highness,” said Father with a slight smile. He looked at her more closely for a moment before continuing. “Is everything all right between you and Geoffrey? You seemed a little out of sorts when I interrupted you this afternoon.”

  “It was nothing, Father,” Cathryn replied with a slight grimace. “It appears we do not share the same sense of humor, nothing more.”

  “Well, a good marriage is not dependent on a shared sense of humor,” said Father, returning his attention to his papers.

  Chapter 4

  It was a lovely day, full with the promise of spring. New leaf buds, their color still a delicate green, were exploding on the trees, while blossoms shyly paraded their soft hues for all the world to see. Cathryn, standing just inside the open front door, took in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the scent of early morning. The air was still fresh and untouched by the heat of day which would later ripen the smells into a more pungent mélange. She patted her waist, assuring herself that the purse which hung from her belt was in place, before setting out through the door. As she walked she reviewed the list of items she sought, numbering them to aid her memory. It was the midweek market day, which brought with it merchants and craftsmen who traveled from farther afield with their wares. The purchase of kitchen fare was left to the household servants, but Cathryn had a few personal items she wanted to purchase: a hairpin to replace the one that had fallen into the fire grate earlier in the week, a new quill with a delicately curling feather, and ribbons to replace those that had been ruined in the mud a few weeks before. Thought of the ruined ribbons immediately brought to mind the man who had rescued her from the mire, but she resolutely pushed the thought away, turning back to her list. She needed more sheets of paper, and leather thongs to bind them with, and she had heard that one of the merchants had obtained bangles crafted with intricately designed silver filigree, from the Emerald Isle.

  It was not far to the town market, and a few minutes later saw Cathryn standing before a table that held a colorful array of ribbons.

  “Need more ribbons already, Mistress?” asked the young woman behind the table with a smile. Cathryn was a familiar face to the townspeople, and as she always brought with her a cheerful greeting, and never begrudged a merchant a fair price, she was treated with more affection than some of the other well-born ladies of the town. Cathryn returned the smile as she fingered the bright hanks, mulling over the selection of reds, oranges and yellows.

  “I’m afraid the last package was ruined in the mud,” she said. She leaned over the table, examining the bright hues.

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” the woman responded. “I’m afraid I don’t have any more green ribbon, but I do have some lovely blue which I will show you.” She scratched around under the table, pulling out a hank of sapphire-blue ribbon.

  “I’ll take it,” Cathryn said immediately.

  It took her a few more minutes to complete her selection and pay the young woman before she moved off in the direction of a merchant displaying a selection of quills. She glanced around as she walked, taking note of the crowds of shoppers, when a tall form caught her attention. He was turned away from her, but the red hair, gleaming in the morning sun, gave him away. Cathryn felt the breath catch in her throat as she looked at the man who had haunted her memories, before quickly turning in the opposite direction in a panic. The man roused within her a yearning she had never before experienced, a desire that threatened all she held to be true. She had covered quite a few hurried yards before she forced her pace to slow down, chagrined at her instinctive response to run. Adopting a far more sedate pace, she crossed the last few yards to where the jewelry merchant displayed his wares. Silver glittered in the sunlight, and she stroked the smooth surfaces, her finger tracing the delicate swirls and curves, before choosing one with a pattern of trailing flowers and slipping it onto her wrist. Holding out her hand, she twisted it this way and that, watching the metal sparkle against her fair skin.

  “This one, I think.”

  A voice, soft and masculine, startled her, as a hand reached around her and lifted another bangle from the dark-colored cloth of the table. Cathryn knew without turning who it was that stood behind her. The voice had pursued her through many dreams, and as his warm breath brushed against her hair, she felt her heart speed up and the blood pound in her ears. For a brief moment she closed her eyes, silently pulling in extra breath, before slowly turning around to face him.

  “Sir, er, Drummond, was it?” she said. She glanced up into his face, before quickly looking away again.

  “Drake,” he corrected. He looked at her with eyes narrowed. “But you knew that. I saw you rushing across the market in an effort to avoid me. Now why would you do that, I wonder?”

  Cathryn raised startled eyes to meet his. “That is a very arrogant assumption. Why would I want to avoid you?”

  “Why indeed? Is it because your thoughts have bent towards me more than you care to admit?” He held her gaze for a moment, then glanced down at the bangle in his hand. Intricate lines of silver twisted and curled around each other, in a never-ending pattern that looped around the bangle between bands of silver. Pulling her hand into his, he gently tugged the bangle she still wore off her wrist and replaced it with the one he had chosen.

  “There,” he said, “that suits you perfectly. Small and dainty, but with a strong and determined design.” He watched her as she frowned down at the piece of jewelry adorning her wrist, her expression wavering between approval and chagrin. Finally, digging into her purse, she pulled out a few coins and handed them to the merchant before turning away.

  “Aren’t you going to thank me?” he asked, falling into step beside her.

  “Thank you?”

  “Yes. For finding you the perfect piece to complement your graceful wrist.”

  “You are insufferable,” she said, annoyed. Annoyed at him, for making her indebted to him. And even more at herself, for being affected by him.

  “How is your betrothed?” he said. “Shouldn’t he be here, attending to you, showing his affection and showering you with gifts?”

  She took a deep breath before replying. “My marriage to Geoffrey Beaumont has nothing to do with affection,” she said, lifting her chin as she responded. “It is a business partnership, nothing more. Not,” she added, “that it concerns you in the least.”

  “A business partnership,” he mused. “Do you have no feelings for the man?”

  “Of course I do,” she retorted. “I admire his business sense and respect his intelligence.”

  “Ah. A fine foundation for a successful marriage. Is there no-one that you love, then? One with whom you share mutual affection?”

  “No. I have seen love make fools of my friends
, and I choose not to go down that road. Nor have I ever been tempted to.”

  She carried on for a few more steps, glancing at Favian when he didn’t reply. His face wore an expression of deep consideration, but it cleared as he returned her look.

  “Good day, Mistress,” he said with a small bow. “I will leave you to your perusals.”

  Cathryn nodded, staring after him as he turned away and strode through the crowd. Clearly her words had made him leave. What was not clear, however, was why she felt so bereft. She was still pondering this when he glanced back over his shoulder, his gaze catching hers for a moment before he turned back and disappeared between the masses.

  Chapter 5

  Hannah bustled around the room as Cathryn lay in a tub of warm water, the scent of roses rising from the crushed petals that had been strewn into the bath.

  “I’m thinking the green gown, Mistress,” said the young woman, “trimmed in silver.”

  “Perfect,” Cathryn said, lathering soap over her arms as she answered. She was looking forward to an evening spent at the Bradshaws’. Thomas Bradshaw was a fellow merchant and a great friend of her father’s, while his wife, Elise, was a kind, motherly woman. Twice each year the couple held a great feast, where they offered entertainment in the form of traveling troubadours and musicians. This year, Father had informed her, Elise had even managed to find a bard to end the evening’s entertainment with a tale or two.

  A pail of steaming water stood next to the tub, and hefting it Hannah poured the water over Cathryn in a gentle stream. She held out a large linen sheet as Cathryn rose out of the water. Fetching a small bottle of colored glass from the chest of drawers, she rubbed attar of rose over Cathryn’s smooth skin, rubbing in vigorous circles over her shoulders and neck.

  “Will a certain gentleman be there this evening?” Hannah asked.

  “Geoffrey? I don’t believe so,” Cathryn said. “He does not enjoy this kind of entertainment.” She smiled at Hannah’s look of indignation.