As the congregation from the village and the servants and guests from the house rustled and muttered their way through the doors, she gazed around to see if any of the villagers were absent. She’d always taken a great interest in their affairs and ofttimes visited the sick. Kate encouraged these charitable excursions, although Alys suspected her cousin was glad to get her out of the house.
The Selwood servants, although bleary-eyed, were present. Bess from the kitchen, Jacob the head gardener, Lettice and the other kitchen wenches, the serving boys, the cook, the steward—aye, all were present, but with one notable exception. Though she cared nothing for his blighted soul, Alys was shocked by Kit’s absence.
A worm of doubt gnawed through her mind, and she stopped concentrating on the prayers and responses. What if Kit had stayed behind for a tryst with Kate? She could think of no other reason for him not to be here—he’d not been ill, and had no home or family nearby to visit, as far as she knew.
The more she tried to put the thought from her mind, the larger it grew—and when the sermon centered on the sins of the flesh, it was like a sign from God she was correct in her surmise. Anger coursed through her.
She must catch them in the act, force Kate to be rid of the man and entreat her to mend her ways. But by the time the churchgoers returned, there’d be no evidence of the lovers’ guilt. She must catch them now.
“Hannah, I must run back to the house. I set a shift to dry by the fire and forgot clean about it. There’s no one to see to it, and I’d not start a blaze.”
“Hush, I’m sure no harm will come of it. You worry overmuch.”
Alys waited a moment, made sure Hannah was watching, and fumbled with her prayer book until it fell to the floor. Several heads shot up at the sound.
“For goodness’ sake, sit still.” Hannah frowned.
“I cannot. I’m too worried. I’m certain I can smell burning.”
“Probably just one of the villagers’ dinners. But if you’re going to disrupt the sermon for everyone else, better you should go. But don’t come back, or you’ll disturb everyone again.”
Alys made her way up the aisle, shooting an apologetic look at the minister as she went. He nodded briefly and continued with his sermon. Once outside, outrage gave wings to her feet, anger at the two people who could so easily bring the household into disrepute and ruin her chance of escape by making a good marriage. She’d tried so hard to maintain high standards at the manor, doing the job that Kate should have been doing. She’d put in too much effort to see it all cast to the wind.
How could Kate ever hope to remarry if her behavior became more widely known? Only a man with low morals would take such a wanton—and how could Alys bear to live under the hand of such a master?
As she came in sight of the warm red brickwork of the house, her face reddened as she pictured the scene she might discover. Suddenly, she was far more concerned about confronting a naked Kit than her cousin. It took great effort to swallow her fear and restore her heart to its regular beat.
She paused as she reached the passage leading to her cousin’s chamber. Should she first rouse Sir Thomas and beg him to be a witness? He’d put Kate in her place, and dismiss the gardener on the spot, whether Kate agreed or not. Nay, what if she were mistaken? It was best to do this herself. She opened the door at the end of the passageway… and froze.
Kit stood a little ways down, right outside Kate’s chamber door, his dark head almost brushing the decorated ceiling. The rough shirt he wore was open at the neck, the sleeves rolled back above his muscular forearms. Strong, sun-browned hands cradled a bunch of pink roses. Her breath caught.
For a fraction of a moment, when he caught sight of Alys, he seemed rooted to the spot. Then, affecting an air of nonchalance, he gave her a deferential nod. “God give you good day, Mistress Barchard.”
Alys prayed he’d put her flush down to anger. “What do you do here?” She kept her voice low, lest Kate hear their conversation. She’d prefer to deal with her separately.
Frowning, he held up the roses. “I bring these for Mistress Aspinall.”
“Pray keep your voice down. Should you not be at church?”
His face cleared. “I shall go later. Mistress Aspinall asked for these yesterday, but I forgot.”
What nonsense! He’d brought a gift for his lover, that was the truth of it. “What makes you think you can just march through the house and put flowers in her private chamber?”
“I removed my boots first—”
“Insolent dog!” How dare he answer back like that?
The gardener must have realized his mistake, for he hung his head. “I humbly beg your forgiveness, my lady—I meant no harm. My only wish was to please Mistress Aspinall when she returns from church. I’ll willingly cut blooms for your chamber, too, if you wish it. There are some sweetly scented pinks—”
“I do not wish it!” Alys looked at the door, then lowered her voice again. “Are you not aware that the lady is within, sick from a headache?”
A fleeting disquiet crossed his face, but all he said was, “Your pardon, I did not know it.”
Oh, but he was a smooth liar, this fellow. She clenched her fists. “You expect me to believe that when I know you stayed away from church for quite another purpose.”
The gardener looked wary. “Lady, if
