dragon archives 02 - pursued by a dragon Read online

  Leaning closer, he brought his lips close as he whispered in her ear. “Can I call on you sometime?”

  Mutely, she nodded, an incline of the head so slight she wasn’t even sure she had made the movement, but it was enough for him. He pulled back, accepting the response with his own slight nod, before turning around and sliding off the bench. He was gone a moment later, the warmth of his body quickly replaced by a cool breeze that stirred with the opening of the door as he exited.

  Cathryn returned her attention to the storyteller, but her mind was distracted. It was with only half an ear that she heard the tale of the brave knight who had defeated the world’s most wicked monster, piercing his heart with a double-edged sword, and finally avenging the lives of so many maidens who had been ripped to shreds by the terrible beast. But instead of a dragon, her mind was filled with thoughts of Favian. The man seemed determined to torment her, and now she had agreed, while caught up in a moment of insanity, to his request to call upon her. She would have to see him, of course, and use the opportunity to let him know that he was to leave her alone. But faced with the distraction of his presence, she wasn’t sure she would even be able to. And therein lay the problem.

  The tale of the defeated dragon brought the evening to a close, and it was not long after the story was done that people started to drift away, returning to their own homes either by foot or carriage. Father soon appeared at Cathryn’s side, ready to attend her home.

  “Did you enjoy your evening?” Father asked as they strolled along the street together, her arm tucked securely in his. The street was quiet, with not another soul around, and only a very faint glow emitting from the street lamps. The moon that had been shining so brightly earlier was now hidden by a blanket of cloud.

  “I did, Father. And what about you?”

  “Thomas and I were able to discuss our delegation to the king, so from that point it was certainly beneficial. The story was what you would expect from any traveling bard who would rather delve into tales of fairies and dragons instead of imparting knowledge of our glorious history. Still, it was entertaining. I am sure we were all relieved that the knight was victorious over such a monstrous beast.”

  “The knight was certainly very heroic. But I rather wish the dragon had not been quite so vicious.”

  “Oh well, you cannot make a monster be nice.”

  They walked in silence for a few minutes, until a hoot and a sudden flurry of wings broke the quiet. A moment later the owl swooped over them, barely missing their heads, and Cathryn looked around in alarm, feeling the hair at the back of her neck rise.

  “What’s that?” she whispered, gripping her father’s arm in sudden fear. Father glanced around quickly before patting her arm.

  “Nothing.” He paused to clear his throat. “Nothing but your imagination playing tricks on you.”

  Cathryn wasn’t so sure. She glanced around, pressing herself close to her father’s side, but all was dark. The air was still and all was quiet, so quiet she could have heard a mouse scurrying across the road, but nothing stirred. She glanced around again, her body tense, and this time she saw a faint glimmer of gold shining through the darkness. The light seemed to be watching her, and she stared at it until it blinked back into darkness; and when, a moment later, the air in the lane stirred, she felt a rush of heat surround her and then disappear. As though the night had been holding its breath, its sounds suddenly resumed.

  “Come,” Father said, gently tugging her arm, “we should not tarry in these dark lanes.”

  Their house was around the next corner, and in another few minutes Father pushed open the door and Cathryn stepped through the doorway into the brightly-lit room beyond.

  Chapter 7

  Cathryn was out of bed soon after the sun rose the following morning. She had had an unsettled night, pursued by dragons and eyes of burning gold. Quickly donning a riding habit, she slipped out of the house and walked down the road, covering the short distance that led to the town stables where her father kept their horses. A stable hand was asleep on a mound of straw in a corner near the entrance, but he scrambled to his feet at the sound of her approach, rubbing sleep from a pair of bleary eyes. Bits of straw clung to his hair, and Cathryn resisted the urge to pull them out, instead digging into her purse to find a few coins to toss to him in thanks. Despite his rude awakening, he quickly had Morana saddled, and a few minutes later, Cathryn was leaving the streets of the town behind her as she headed into the countryside, making for the large meadow that lay to the east of the town.

  As the sun began to climb in the eastern sky, Cathryn urged the horse into a canter. The wind caught her hair and lifted it up from her neck as she leaned into the rhythm of her mount. There was an enormous oak tree at the far end of the meadow, and she raced towards it, hair whipping around her face. Her mind returned to the previous evening. The music and dancing had been most enjoyable, and the story had been entertaining. There was only one aspect that she tried to avoid thinking about, but thoughts of Favian Drake kept on intruding, just like the man himself. She had to admit, as much as it irked her to do so, that when she was in his presence all sense flew from her mind. Why else would she have agreed to his calling upon her?

  The sun was high in the sky by the time Cathryn returned to the house. She was ascending the stairs when she heard Hannah behind her.

  “Mistress Peggy is awaiting your presence in the parlor.” She took Cathryn by the arm and dragged her up the stairs. “Let’s get you out of that habit and make you presentable.”

  Under Hannah’s ministrations, Cathryn was soon descending the stairs suitably attired. She crossed the hall and entered the parlor, watching Peggy in amusement as she jumped to her feet.

  “Cathryn! Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for an eternity. I was just about to leave you a note and return another time.”

  “I was out riding,” Cathryn said. “What are you doing up so early?”

  “It was crucial that I see you. I think you’ve been hiding something regarding your relationship with Favian Drake.”

  “Hiding something? Relationship?” exclaimed Cathryn. “Whatever do you mean? As I said before, I have absolutely no interest in the man. Moreover, he spent the evening with you, not me.”

  “He may have spent the evening with me, but he could not stop asking me about you! He wanted to know how long I have known you. And how long you have known Geoffrey. Whether you had set a date for the exchange of vows. How old you were when your mother died.” Peggy flung her hands into the air with each question, her tone growing more accusatory with each one.

  “Stop!” Cathryn held up one hand as she placed the other over her forehead. “Whatever his reason for asking these questions, there is nothing between us. I barely even know the man. And furthermore, as you know, I am promised to Geoffrey.”

  “What does that have to do with it?” Peggy said in surprise. “We all know that is a business arrangement. Follow your heart, Cathryn, but just be discreet.”

  “No! I would never do that!”

  “Why not? Geoffrey does,” Peggy said with a shrug. Cathryn dropped her hand and stared at her friend. The news didn’t really surprise her, but hearing it said aloud was still somewhat distressing. For a brief moment she wondered how it was Peggy knew this about Geoffrey, but she shook off the thought. She wasn’t sure she really wanted to know the answer. And what Geoffrey did was no concern of hers, she reminded herself, as long as it didn’t interfere with their business arrangement.

  “I would not do it,” she answered slowly, “because I believe in the sanctity of the marriage vow. And furthermore, it would not be fair to either myself or the other person to allow ourselves to be involved in something that could never be permanent.”

  “Perhaps the other person does not want anything permanent,” Peggy suggested.

  “Then he would just be using me,” Cathryn said, “and I would not want to be entangled with someone like that.” She stood up and walked around the
room, before facing her friend once more. “This is a pointless discussion, since I am not in the slightest bit interested in Favian Drake.”

  “Really?” said Peggy.

  “Really. I just wish he would leave me alone! And even if I did have feelings for him,” she added, “I still wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him, since I have seen how following your heart only leads you into a morass of misery.”

  “What a cynic you are,” said Peggy with a laugh. “I won’t say any more, but I do think you are deluding yourself. I think that you are far more interested than you will admit. But enough of that,” she said as Cathryn opened her mouth to protest, “Did you hear the news about Mary Walsh?”

  Chapter 8

  The weeks following the Bradshaw party were mild and warm, giving Cathryn hope that she could soon start her tour of the wool estates. She spent the days reviewing contracts with suppliers, analyzing wool prices, and examining the latest trends in cloth sales. She also spent time with Felix plotting the route she would take with her entourage, and oversaw the planning of the supplies that would be necessary for six weeks on the road. In addition to Felix, she would also be accompanied by Hannah and a dozen wagoners and wagons.

  The days slipped by, and Favian did not come to call. Cathryn pushed away the disappointment she felt, trying to convince herself that she was relieved. After all, what man asked if he could call and then did not come?

  But when Hannah knocked on her door one morning and informed her that a gentleman was awaiting her in the parlor, she could not help smiling. She smoothed down her gown, pushed her hairpin more securely in place, and made her way down the stairs. She paused at the threshold, taking in the sight of Favian as he slowly turned to face her.

  “Mistress Cathryn,” he said with a bow. Cathryn stepped into the room, inclining her head in acknowledgement.

  “Master Drake,” she responded.

  “My apologies for not calling on you sooner,” he said, “but something came up that needed my attention.”

  Cathryn sank down into a chair and gestured for him to take a seat on the other side of the room.

  “No need to concern yourself, Master Drake,” she said. “I had quite forgotten that you had intended to call.” She dropped her eyes to her lap as she spoke. Favian eyed her narrowly for a moment before nodding.

  “In that case I won’t trouble you any further, Mistress,” he said. “Please forgive the intrusion.” Cathryn bit her lip as he stood up, determined not to delay his leaving. This was, after all, what she wanted. But as he got to the door, he turned back to her once more.

  “Tell me, Cathryn,” he said, “ten years hence, when you are staring at a husband for whom you feel nothing but contempt, will you still feel that passing up the chance of love was the right choice?”

  Cathryn rose to her feet, stung. “How dare you?” she demanded. “What makes you think I will feel contempt for my husband?”

  “You will,” he said.

  “What are you suggesting? That I will find love with you?”

  “You will never know now, will you?”

  “You are quite out of line,” she said. “This is no way for a gentleman to act.”

  “I never said I was a gentleman, Cathryn. But whatever I am, we both know that you have feelings for me.”

  “You are so … so arrogant,” she fumed. “And I most certainly do not have feelings for you.” She turned around, presenting her back to him. He stepped up behind her, and she could feel the warmth of his presence.

  “Do you not, Cathryn?” he said softly. “Because I most certainly have feelings for you.”

  She shivered slightly at his words, determined not to look around at him, but when he took her by the shoulders and turned her around, she was unable to resist. Bending down, he caught her lips with his, and she opened her mouth in response as his warm breath swept over her. All rational thought flew from her mind as she felt her body respond to his touch. His hands slipped around to her back, pulling her closer, and she leaned into him, lifting her hands to touch him. The lapse was momentary, and she pulled away, aghast at her reaction. Placing her hands on his chest she pushed him away, but before she removed them, he caught them in his own and held them captured.

  “Let me go,” she whispered.

  “Not until you admit you have feelings for me,” he said.

  “No! No!” Cathryn twisted herself loose and turned away, dropping her head into her hands. She drew in a deep breath before lifting her face to stare out the window.

  “No,” she repeated. “It doesn’t matter whether or not I have feelings for you. I am betrothed to another of my own free will, and I will not dishonor that commitment.”

  “Ah, yes, that business arrangement,” said Favian dryly. “Tell me, Cathryn, will that business arrangement keep you warm at night when your husband is out whoring with other women? Will it bring you comfort when he spends the night over drinks with friends instead of with you? Will it bring you contentment in your old age when you sit at a fire alone, with only dry numbers to keep you company? Because that is what your future holds.”

  Cathryn winced as Favian flung out each question. She turned around slowly, desperately trying to find an adequate reply, but she was alone in the room, the door already swinging closed. Dropping down to her knees, she sunk onto the floor, allowing the tears she had been holding back to fall onto the cold stone floor.

  Chapter 9

  The only thing still preventing Cathryn from starting her tour was the unsettled spring weather. Traveling with a convoy of wagons and other equipage over rough country lanes was hazardous even when the weather was fine, so traveling when the lanes were still mired down in mud was a foolish risk. And faced with the certainty that there would be times they would have to camp under the stars, Cathryn was prepared to wait for more clement weather. But the wait was trying, and even Father could see that she was growing short-tempered.

  “I think we are nearing the end of the wet weather,” Father assured her one clear morning. “I’m sure things will have settled in the next week or two.” Cathryn clamped her teeth together in frustration, glancing out the window as she did so. Through the open shutters she could hear the sounds of the market — a riotous racket where it seemed like all manner of life were competing against each other to make themselves heard — roosters, geese, lambs and pigs lamenting their sorry plights as merchants and sellers yelled out the natures of their wares. Making a quick decision, she gave her father a smile before slipping out the door of his study. Pausing only to fetch her purse and swing a cloak around her shoulders, she made her way out onto the street, following the din to the market.

  Once there, Cathryn meandered through the tightly packed stalls of merchandise, twisting adroitly to avoid being knocked over by carefree children and determined shoppers. She paused at a merchant who had a table of polished stones. There was one that caught her eye — a clear, translucent disc of dark orange.

  “That would be amber, Mistress,” said the merchant, observing her interest. “Brought from far distant lands, traversing hundreds of miles. It can be yours for ten silver coins.”

  “Ten silver coins? That’s too dear for me,” Cathryn said.

  “Ah, but for you Mistress, I will sell it for only eight silver coins. That is a bargain you will not see again.”

  “You are too kind, Master,” she said. “But I’m afraid I must decline.” She laid the stone down on the table, smiling to herself when the man spoke again.

  “Did I say eight coins, Mistress? I meant seven, yours for only seven.”

  “Hmm, only seven?” She lifted the amber once more, prepared to examine it more closely, when a voice sounded softly in her ear behind her.

  “Cathryn?”

  For just an instant, Cathryn felt the sun stand still in its travels through the heavens as her heart started to pound. Carefully replacing the disc on the cloth, she turned around to face the man who would not give her peace.

&nb
sp; “Master Drake,” she said, with a very slight nod. “We meet again.”

  “Yes.” He stared down at her for a moment, his eyes searching her face, before turning his shoulder and gesturing to a woman standing behind him. She was tall, only a few inches shorter than Favian, and Cathryn guessed her to be in her early forties. And although her coloring was dark, she had the same sapphire-blue eyes as Favian.

  “Mistress Cathryn, I would like to introduce my mother, Margaret Drake.”

  “Madame Drake,” Cathryn said, quickly adjusting her mental musings on the woman’s age as she dropped a shallow curtsey.

  The woman smiled, reaching out to take Cathryn’s hand in her own.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Please, call me Margaret. And may I call you Cathryn?” She glanced over at her son. “It is how Favian refers to you, so I have become quite used to it in my mind.”

  “Yes, of course,” Cathryn said. She also glanced at Favian, wondering what he had said about her, but his expression was closed.