“A cunningman? What, like a peddler of remedies?”
“Aye. Kate sent for him. She needed physick for a sore head. What’s wrong with that?”
Kit’s face was as hard as sculpted stone. The brown eyes that normally regarded her with warmth were steely in their intensity. She had never before considered him dangerous—now she knew she must think again.
“Will you not unhand me?” She wriggled in his grasp, but his grip merely tightened. “What are you hiding in your hanging pocket?”
“Nothing. I gave alms at church. There is naught left within.” Surely, he didn’t mean to steal from her? Confusion brought a lump to her throat. He’d seemed so gentle before. Now he was behaving as if he hated her.
“Don’t lie to me, Alys. I saw you pluck something from the road.”
“Oh, that. Just a bead. Nothing of any value.”
“I’ll be the judge of that. Show me.” Why was he bullying her like this? Damn the man.
He could have it if he wanted, though she’d no idea why he might. What a fool she’d been to allow herself to like him!
He let go, but his hands hovered close. With fumbling fingers, she pulled open the drawstrings of her pocket and brought out the bead, dropping it into his callused palm.
He examined it intently, then stared at her, his dark eyes glittering dangerously. “You know what this is?”
“As I said, a bead. I wondered if the cunningman had dropped it—he seemed to be hunting for something on the roadway when I came up. Mayhap ’tis from one of his charms or something. How would I know? I’ve never been to a cunningman or a hedge witch. We usually use the apothecary in Cheyneham.” Her voice was unsteady, tears threatening.
Kit’s expression changed. “Forgive me. I don’t mean to be harsh. For a moment there, I feared, I believed you might be… but no, I’m a fool. A hundred times a fool.”
He reached for her, pulling her against his chest. She was so confused by his abrupt change of behavior she could think no further than that he smelled of newly-cut grass and old leather, and that she rather liked it. His hands came up to cradle her face, and he blessed her cheeks with a few deft kisses. When she looked up, he was smiling.
“You genuinely know nothing of that bead?”
She shook her head.
His grin broadened. “I’ll tell you what it is if you swear not to mention it to a living soul.”
“I swear.”
“It’s a rosary bead. Black Venetian glass.”
She frowned as she scoured her memory. Of course, her grandmother had owned a rosary, back in the days when England was pledged to the Church of Rome. Then the significance of her find struck her.
“Oh, dear. You think the cunningman is a Catholic?”
“I doubt he’s a cunningman at all—that is a disguise. He may be a Catholic priest, or even a Spanish spy. You must have noticed his swarthy looks—they could well mark him out as a foreigner.”
“But what business could he have with Kate?”
“Ah, my darling, innocent Alys! How happy it makes me to hear that question.”
She was still musing on the fact he’d called her darling when his warm breath caressed her face. She blinked up into the brown eyes so disconcertingly close to her own, and her breath caught. Kit’s gaze dropped to her mouth and, with a satisfied grin, he captured it with his own.
There was no time to react or rebuff him. Not that she wanted to rebuff him—his kiss was a taste of Heaven as she gave herself up to it, luxuriating in the sheer abandonment with which Kit moved his heated lips over hers, tasting, pressing, exploring. He held her so tightly she could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her own. Her arms twined about his neck as her hands delved into his thick, silky hair.
No, this was madness! She pulled away. “The rest of the household will be upon us in a moment.”
Kit’s hot breath fanned her ear. “I don’t care.” He claimed her lips again.
The taste of him filled her with a million yearnings, but this was impossible. “They’ll see my horse in the field. They’re bound to stop.”
Kit’s hands slid down her back and nestled against her waist. “Let them.” He lowered his head to continue the sensual onslaught, but the sound of approaching hoofbeats had become too loud to ignore.
Releasing her, he said, “I’m not leaving yet—I’ll be coming back to the house, if only for a short while. I pray—continue on and act as normally as you can. I’ll explain all to you, I promise, my sweeting!” Then he leapt over the gate, kicked his pack into the ditch and immediately followed it down out of sight.
Hannah’s bay mare was now opposite the open gate. She reined in and stared at Alys’ abandoned horse. Terrified the woman would spot Kit if she came any closer, Alys raced through the gate and stood in the road. “All is well! There’s no alarm!”
Hannah glowered down at her. “I didn’t see you fall off your horse, yet you look like you’ve been pulled through a hedge.”
Alys smoothed out her kirtle. “I saw a falcon loose in the meadow here,” she lied, impressed by her own inventiveness. “I wondered if one of ours had escaped, so I came to look.”
“And was it?”
“Was it what?”
“One of ours?”
“Oh, no, I don’t think so. So, all’s well, then.”
Hannah’s eyes bored into hers. “I’m not sure all is well. Your eyes are feverish bright, and I declare, I’ve never seen your cheeks so red.”
A faint snort sounded from the ditch behind her. Alys coughed loudly to cover the sound. “I feel perfectly well, thank you.” Turning her back on Hannah, she climbed the gate and mounted her horse.
Straight-backed, she made a dignified retreat, hoping the ditch in which Kit lay was full of foul, stagnant water. How dare he laugh! When she saw him again, she’d make sure he didn’t
